- ESTATE OF CAROLINE E- LE CQMTF XC-^t A 03 PLUTARCH'S LIVES, TRANSLATED PROM THE ORIGINAL GREEK: WITH NOTES, CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL AHD A LIFE OF PLUTARCH. BY JOHN LANGHORNE, D.D. AND WILLIAM LANGHORNE, A.M. STEREOTYPE EDITION, CAREFULLY REVISED AND CORRECTED. CINCINNATI: APPLEGATE AND CO, PUBLISHERS, NO. 43 MAIN STREET. 1860. p-71,3 CONTENTS PAGE. Preface v Life of Plutarch ix I Theseus 21 II. Romulus 31 Romulus and Theseus com- pared 44 I IT. Lycurgus 46 IV Numa 59 Nurna and Lycurgus compar- ed 70 V. Solon 72 VI, Publicola. ..." 84 Solon and Publicola compar- ed 92 VII. Themistocles 93 VIII Camillus 105 IX. Pericles 120 X Fabius Ivlaximus 134 , Pericles and Fabius Maximus compared 144 XI. Alcibiades 145 XII. Caius Marcius Coriolanus 160 Alcibiades and C. M. Coriolanus compared 172 XIII. Timoleon 174 XIV. Paulus ^Emilius 185 Timoleon and Paulus ^Emilius compared 199 XV. Pelopidas 200 XVI. Marcellus 211 Pelopidas and Marcellus com- pared 223 XVII. Aristides 224 XVIII. Cato the Censor 236 Aristides and Cato the Censor compared 246 XIX. Philopojmen 248 XX. Titus Quinctius Flaminius 255 Philopcemen and T. Q. Flarninius compared 263 XXI. Pyrrhus 264 XXII. Caius Marius 278 XXIII. Lysander 233 XXIV. Sylla 304 Lysander and Svlla compar- ed . . 318 PAGK XXV. Cimon .~r. 330 XXVI. Lucullus 327 Cimon and Lucuilus com- pared 344 XXVII. Nicias 346 XXVIII. Marcus Crassus 358 Nicias and Marcus Crassus compared ,,... 372 XXIX. Sertorius 374 XXX. Eumenes 383 Sertorius and Eumenes com- pared 39C XXXI. Agesilaus 391 XXXII. Pompey 405 Agesilaus and Pompey com- pared 432 XXXIII. Alexander 434 XXXIV. Julius Csesar 461 XXXV. Phocion 482 XXXVI. Catothe younger 494 XXXVII. Agis 514 XXXVIII. Cleomenes 520 XXXIX. Tiberius Gracchus 531 XL. Caius Gracchus 537 Agis, Cleomenes, and Tibe- rius and Caius Gracchus compared 543 XLI. Demosthenes 544 XLII. Cicero 554 Demosthenes and Cicero compared 569 XLIII. Demetrius 570 XXLIV. Antony 586 Demetrius and Antony com- pared 608 XLV. Dion 609 XLVI. Brutus 623 Dion and Brutus compared .. 636 XLVII Artaxerxes 637 XLVIII. Aratus 647 XLIX. Galba 662 L. Otho 670 Table of coins, weights, mea- sures, &c., 677 Chronological Table 678 Index . ,. 682 PREFACE, IP the merit of a Work may be estimated from the universality of its reception, Plutarch's Lives have a claim to the first honors of Literature. No book has been more generally sought after, or read with greater avidity. It was one of the first that were brought out of the retreats of the learned, and translated into the modern languages. Amiot, Abbe of Bellozane, published a French translation of it in the reign of Henry the Second; and from that work it was translated into English, in the time of Queen Elizabeth. It is said by those who are not willing to allow Shakspeare much learning, that he availed himself of the last-mentioned translation; but they seem to forget that, in order to support their arguments of this kind, it is necessary for them to prove that Plato too was translated into English at the same time ; for the celebrated soli- loquy, " To be, or not to be," is taken almost verbatim, from that philosopher; yet we have never found that Plato was translated in those times. Amiot was a man of great industry and considerable learning. He sought dil- igently in the libraries of Rome and Venice for those Lives of Plutarch which are lost ; and though his search was unsuccessful, it had this good effect, that, by meeting with a variety of manuscripts, and comparing them with the printed copies, he was enabled in many places to rectify the text. This was a very essential circumstance ; for few ancient writers had suffered more than Plutarch from the carelessness of printers and transcribers ; and, with all his merit, it was his fate, for a long time, to find no able restorer. The Schoolmen despised his Greek, because it, had not the purity o Xenophon, nor the attic terseness of Aristophanes ; and, on that account, very unreasonably bestowed their labors on those that wanted them less. Amiot's translation was published in the year 1558; but no reputable edition of the Greek text of Plutarch appeared until that of Paris in 1624. The above-mentioned trans- lation, however, though drawn from an imperfect text, passed through many editions, and was still read, until Dacier, under better auspices, and in better times, attempted a new one ; which he executed with great elegance, and tolerable accuracy. The text he followed was not so correct as might have been wished ; for the London edition of Plutarch was not then published. However, the French language being at that time in great perfection, and the fashionable language of almost every court in Europe, Dacier's translation came not only into the libraries but into the hands of men. Plu- tarch was universally read, and no book in those times had a more extensive sale, or went through a greater number of impressions. The translator had, indeed, acquitted himself, in one respect, with great happiness. His book was not found to be French Greek. He had carefully followed that rule, which no translator ought ever to lose sight of, the great rule of humoring the genius, and maintaining the structure of his own language. For this purpose he frequently broke the long and embarrassed peri- ods of the Greek ; and by dividing and shortening them in his translation, he gave them greater perspicuity and more easy movement. Yet still he was faithful to his original ; and where he did not mistake him, which indeed he selddtn did, conveyed his ideas with clearness, though not without verbosity. His translation had another dis- tinguished advantage. He enriched it with a variety of explanatory notes. There are so many readers who have no competent acquaintance with the customs of antiquity, the laws of the ancient states, the ceremonies of their religion, arid the remoter and minuter parts of their history and genealogy, that to have an account of these matters ever before the eye, and to travel with a guide who is ready to describe to us every object we are unacquainted with, is a privilege equally convenient and agreeable. But here the annotator ought to have stopped. Satisfied with removing the difficulties usually arising in the circumstances above mentioned, he should not have swelled his pages with idle declamations on trite morals and obvious sentiments. Amiot's margins, (v) v j PREFACE. indeed, are everywhere crowded with such. In those times they followed the method )f the old Divines, which was to make practical improvements of every matter; but it is somewhat strange that Dacier, who wrote in a more enlightened age, should fall into that beaten track of insipid moralizing, and be at pains to say what every one must know. Perhaps, as the commentator of Plutarch, he considered himself as a kind of traveling companion to the reader; and agreeably to the manners of his country, he meant to show his politeness by never holding his peace. The apology he makes for deducing and detailing these flat precepts, is the view of instructing youngei minds. He had not philosophy enough to consider, that to anticipate the conclusions of such minds, in their pursuit of history and characters, is to prevent their proper effect. When examples are placed before them, they will not fail to make right infer- ences ; but if those are made for them, the didactic air of information destroys their influence. After the old English translation of Plutarch, which was professedly taken from Amiot's French, no other appeared until the time of Dryden. That great man, who is never to be mentioned without pity and admiration, was prevailed upon, by his necessities, to head a company of translators ; and to lend the sanction of his glorious name to a translation of Plutarch, written, as he himself acknowledges, by almost as many hands as there were lives. That this motley work was full of errors, inequali- ties, and inconsistencies, is not in the least to be wondered at. Of such a variety of translators, it would have been very singular if some had not failed in learning, and some in language. The truth is, that the greatest part of them were deficient in both. Indeed, their task was not easy. To translate Plutarch under any circum- stances could require no ordinary skill in the language and antiquities of Greece : but to attempt it while the text was in a depraved state ; unsettled and unrectified ; abounding with errors, misnomers, and transpositions ; this required much greater abilities than fell to the lot of that body of translators in general. It appears, how- ever, from the execution of their undertaking, that they gave themselves no great con- cern about the difficulties that attended it. Some few blundered at the Greek ; some drew from the Scholiast's Latin; and others, more humble, trod scrupulously in the paces of Amiot. Thus copying the idioms of different languages, they proceeded like the workmen at Babel, and fell into a confusion of tongues, while they attempted to speak the same. But the diversities of style were not the greatest fault of this strange translation. It was full of the grossest errors. Ignorance on the one hand, and hastiness or negligence on the other, had filled it with absurdities in every life, and in- accuracies in almost every page. The language, in general, was insupportably tame, tedious, and embarrassed. The periods had no harmony ; the phraseology had no ele- gance, no spirit, no precision. Yet this is the last translation of Plutarch's Lives that has appeared in the English language, and the only one that is now read. It must be owned, that when Dacier's translation came abroad, the proprietor of Dry- den's copy endeavored to repair it. But how was this done ? Not by the applica- tion of learned men, who might have rectified the errors by consulting the original, but by a mean recourse to the labors of Dacier. Where the French translator had Differed from the English, the opinions of the latter were religiously given up ; and sometimes a period, and sometimes a page, were translated anew from Dacier ; while in due compliment to him, the idiom of his language, and every tour d? expression were most scrupulously preserved. Nay, the editors of that edition, which was published in 1727, did more. They not only paid Dacier the compliment of mixing his French with their English, but while they borrowed his notes, they adopted even the most frivolous and superfluous comments that escaped his pen. Thus the English Plutarch's Lives, at first so heterogeneous and absurd, received but little benefit from this whimsical reparation. Dacier's best notes were, indeed, of some value ; but the patchwork alterations the editors had drawn from his translation, made their book appear still like Otway's Old Woman, whose gown of many colors spoke variety of wretchedness. This translation continued in the same form upward of thirty years. But in the year 1758 the proprietor engaged a gentleman of abilities, very different from those who had formerly been employed, to give it a second purgation. He succeeded as well as it was possible for any man of the best judgment and learning to succeed, in PREFACE vii an attempt of that nature. That is to say, he rectified a multitude of errors, and in many places endeavored to mend the miserable language. Two of the Lives ho translated anew ; and this he executed in such a manner, that, had he done the whole, the present translators would never have thought of the undertaking. But two Lives out of fifty made a very small part of this great work ; and though he rectified many er- rors in the old translation, yet, where almost everything was error, it is no wonder if many escaped him. This was, indeed, the case. In the course of our Notes we had remark- ed a great number; but, apprehensive that such a continual attention to the faults of a former translation might appear invidious, we expunged a greater part of the re- marks, and suffered such only to remain as might testify the propriety of our present undertaking. Beside, though the ingenious reviser of the edition of 1758 might repair the language where it was most palpably deficient, it was impossible for him to alter the cast and complexion of the whole. It would still retain its inequalities, its tameness, and heavy march ; its mixture of idioms, and the irksome train of far- con- nected periods. These it still retains ; and, after all the operations it has gone through, remains Like some patch'd doghole eked with ends of wall ! In this view of things, the necessity of a new translation is obvious ; and the hazard does not appear to be great. With such competitors for the public favor, the con- test has neither glory nor danger attending it. But the labor and attention neces- sary, as well to secure as to obtain that favor, neither are, nor ought to be, less : And with whatever success the present translators may be thought to have executed their undertaking, they will always at least have the merit of a diligent desire to discharge this public duty faithfully. Where the text of Plutarch appeared to them erroneous, they have spared no pains, and neglected no means in their power to rectify it. Sensible that the great art of a translator is to prevent the peculiarities of his Author's language from stealing into his own, they have been particularly attentive to this point, and have generally endeavored to keep their English unmixed with Grreek. At the same time it must be observed, that there is frequently a great simi- larity in the structure of the two languages ; yet that resemblance, in some instances, makes it the more necessary to guard against it on the whole. This care is of the greater consequence, because Plutarch's Lives generally pass through the hands of young people, who ought to read their own language in its native purity, unmixed and untainted with the idioms of different tongues. For their sakes too, as well as for the sake of readers of a different class, we have omitted some passages in the text, and have only signified the omission by asterisms. Some, perhaps, may censure us for taking too great a liberty with our Author in this circumstance : However, we must beg leave in that instance to abide by our own opinion ; and sure we are, that we should have censured no translator for the same. Could everything of that kind have been omitted, we should have been still less dissatisfied; but sometimes the chain of the narrative would not admit of it, and the disagreeable parts were to be got over with as much decency as possible. In the descriptions of battles, camps and sieges, it is more than probable that we may sometimes be mistaken in the military terms. We have endeavored, however, to be as accurate in this respect as possible, and to acquaint ourselves with this kind of knowledge as well as our situations would permit ; but we will not promise the reader that we have always succeeded. Where something seemed to have fallen out of the text, or where the ellipsis was too violent for the forms of our language, we have not scrupled to maintain the tenor of the narrative, or the chain of reason, by such little insertions as appeared to be necessary for the purpose. These short insertions were at first put between hooks; but as that deformed the page, without answering any material purpose, we soon rejected it. Such are the liberties we have taken with Plutarch ; and the learned, we natter ourselves, will not think them too great. Yet there is one more, which, if we could have presumed upon it, would have made his book infinitely more uniform and agree- able. We often wished to throw out of the text into the notes those tedious and digressive comments that spoil the beauty and order of his narrative, mortify the ex- pectation, frequently, when it is most essentially interested, and destroy the natural jitf PREFACE. influence of his story, by turning the attention into a different channel. What, for instance, can be more irksome and impertinent than a long dissertation on a point of natural philosophy starting up at the very crisis of some important action ? Every reader of Plutarch must have felt the pain of these unseasonable digressions ; but we could not, upon our own pleasure or authority, remove them. In the Notes we have prosecuted these several intentions. We have endeavored to bring the English reader acquainted with the Greek and Roman Antiquities ; where Plutarch had omitted anything remarkable in the Lives, to supply it from other au- thors, and to make his book in some measure a general history of the periods under his pen. In the notes too we have assigned reasons for it, where we have differed from the former translators. This part of our work is neither wholly borrowed, nor altogether original. Where Dacier or other a'nnotators ofered us anything to the purpose, we have not scrupled to make use of it ; and, to avoid the endless trouble of citations , we make this acknow- ledgment once for all, The number of original notes the learned reader will find to be very considerable : But there are not so many notes of any kind in the latter part of the work ; because the manners and customs, the religious ceremonies, laws, state- offices, and forms of government, among the ancients, being explained in the first Lives, much did not remain for the business of information. Four of Plutarch's Parallels are supposed to be lost : Those of Themistocles and Camillus; Pyrrhus and Marius; Phocion and Cato; Alexander and Caesar. These Dacier supplies by others of his own composition; but so different from those of Plu- tarch, that they have little right to be incorporated with his Works. The necessary Chronological Tables, together with the Tables of Money, Weights and Measures, and a copious Index, have been provided for this translation ; of which we may truly say, that it wants no other advantages than such as the Translators had not power to give. THE LIFE OF PLUTARCH. AS, in the progress of life, we first pass through scenes of innocence, peace, and fancy, and after- ward encounter the vices and disorders of society ; so we shall here amuse ourselves awhile in the peaceful solitude of the philosopher, before we proceed to those more animated, but less pleasing objects he describes. Nor will the view of a philosopher's life be less instructive than his labors. If the latter teach us how great vices, accompanied with great abilities, may tend to the ruin of a state , if they inform us how Ambition attended with magnanimity, how Avarice directed by political sagacity, how Envy and Revenge, armed with personal valor and popular support, will destroy the most sacred establish- ments, and* break through every barrier of human repose and safety ; the former will convince uo that equanimity is more desirable than the highest privileges of mind, and that the most distinguished situations in life, are less to be envied than those quiet allotments, where science is the support of Virtue. Pindar and Epaminondas had, long before Plutarch's time, redeemed, in some measure, the credit of BoRotia, and rescued the inhabitants of that country from the proverbial imputation of stupidity. When Plutarch appeared, he confirmed the reputation it had recovered. He showed that genius is not the growth of any particular soil ; and that its cultivation requires no peculiar qualities of climate. Cha3ronea, a town in Bceotia, between Phocis and Attica, had the honor to give him birth This place was remarkable for nothing but the tameness and servility of its inhabitants, whom Antony's soldiers made beasts of burthen, and obliged to carry their corn upon their shoulders to the coast As it lay between two seas, and was partly shut up by mountains, the air, of course, was heavy, and truly Boeotian. But situations as little favored by nature as Chseronea have given birth to the great- est men ; of which the celebrated Locke and many others are instances. Plutarch himself acknowledges the stupidity of the Boeotians in general ; but he imputes it rather to their diet than to their air : for, in his treatise on Animal Food, he intimates, that a gross indul- gence in that article, which was usual with his countrymen, contributes greatly to obscure the intel- lectual faculties. It is not easy to ascertain in what year he was born. Ruauld places it about the middle of the reign of Claudius ; others, toward the end of it. The following circumstance is the only foundation they have for their conjectures. Plutarch says, that he studied philosophy under Ammonius, at Delphi, when Nero made his pro- gress into Greece. This, we know, was in the twelfth year of that Emperor's reign, in the consul- ship of Paulinus Suetonius and Pontius Telesinus, the second year of the Olympiad 211, and the sixty-sixth of the Christian Era. Dacier observes that Plutarch must have been seventeen or eighteen at least, when he was engaged in the abstruse studies of philosophy; and he, therefore, fixes his birth about five or six years before the death of Claudius. This, however, is bare supposition ; and that, in our opinion, not of the most probable kind. The youth of Greece studied under the philosophers very early ; for their works, with those of the poets and rhetoricians, formed their chief course of discipline. But to determine whether he was born under the reign of Claudius, or in the early part of Nero's reign, Cwhich we the rather believe, as he says himself, that he was very young when Nero entered Greece ): to make it clearly understood, whether he studied at Delphi at ten, or at eighteen years of age, is of much less consequence, than it is to know by what means, and under what auspices, he acquired that humane and rational philosophy which is distinguished in his works. Ammonius was his preceptor; but of him we know little more than what his scholar has accident- ally let full concerning him. He mentions a singular instance of his manner of correcting his pupils. " Our master (says he) having one day observed that we had indulged ourselves too luxuriously at dinner, at his afternoon lecture, ordered his freedman to give his own son the discipline of the whip, In our presence ; signifying, at the same time, that he suffered this punishment, because he could not eat his victuals without sauce. The philosopher all the while had his eye upon us, and we knew well for whom this example of punishment was intended." This circumstance shows, at least, that Ammonius was not of the school of Epicurus. The severity of his discipline, indeed, seems rather of the Stoic cast ; but it is most probable, that he belonged to the Academicians ; for their schools, at that time, had the greatest reputation in Greece. It was a happy circumstance in the discipline of those schools, that the parent only had the power of corporal punishment ; the rod and the ferula were snatched from the hand of the petty tyrant : his office alone was to inform the mind : he had no authority to dastardize the spirit : he had no power to extinguish the generous flame of freedom, or to break down the noble independency of soul, by the slavish, debasing, and degrading application of the rod. This mode of punishment in our public schools, is one of the worst remains of barbarism that prevails among us. Sensible minds, however volatile and inattentive in early years, may be drawn to their duty by many means, which shame, and fears of a more liberal nature than those of corporal punishment, will supply. Where there is but little sensibility, the effect which that mode of punishment produces is not more happy. It destroys that little : though it should be the first care and labor of the preceptor to x LIFE OF PLUTARCH. increase it. To beat the body is to debase the mind. Nothing so soon, or so totally abolishes tho sense of shame ; and yet that sense is at once the best preservative of virtue, and the greatest incen- tive to every species of excellence. Another principal advantage, which the ancient mode of the Greek education gave its pupils, was their early access to every branch of philosophical learning. They did not, like us, employ their youth in the acquisition of words : they were engaged in pursuits of a higher nature ; in acquiring the knowledge of things. They did not, like us, spend seven or ten years of scholastic labor in making a general acquaintance with two dead languages. Those years were employed in the study of nature, and in gaining the elements of philosophical nowledge from her original economy and laws. Hence all that Dacier has observed concerning the probability of Plutarch's being seventeen or eighteen years of age when he studied under Arnmonius, is without the least weight. The way to mathematical and philosophical knowledge was, indeed, much more easy among the ancient Greeks, than it can ever be with us. Those, and every other science, are bound up in terms, which we can never understand precisely, until we become acquainted with the languages from which they are derived. Plutarch, when he learned the Roman language, which was not until he was somewhat advanced in life, observed that he got the knowledge of words from his knowledge of things. But we lie under the necessity of reversing his method ; and before we can arrive at the knowledge of things, we must first labor to obtain the knowledge of words. However, though the Greeks had access to science without the acquisition of other languages, they were, nevertheless, sufficiently attentive to the cultivation of their own. Philology, after the mathematics and philosophy, was one of their principal studies ; and they applied themselves con- siderably to critical investigation. A proof of this we find in that Dissertation which Plutarch hath given us on the word tt, engraved on the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. In this tract he introduces the scholastic disputes, wherein he makes a principal figure. After giving us the various significations which others assigned to this word, he adds his own idea of it ; and that is of some consequence to us, because it shows us that he was not a polytheist. "E says he, Thou art! as if it were n w y Thou art one. I mean not in the aggregate sense, as we say, one army or one body of men composed of many individuals ; but that which exists distinctly must necessarily be one ; and the very idea of being implies individual- ity. One is that which is a simple Being, free from mixture and composition. To be one, there- fore, in this sense, is consistent only with a nature entire in its first principle, and incapable of altera- tion or decay." So far we are perfectly satisfied with Plutarch's creed, but not with his criticism. To suppose that the word a should signify the existence of one God only, is to hazard too much upon conjec- ture ; and the whole tenor of the heathen theology makes against it. Nor can we be better pleased with the other interpretations of this celebrated word. We can never suppose, that it barely signified if; intimating thereby, that the business of those who visite<? the temple was inquiry, and that they came to ask the Deity if such events should come to pasa This construction is too much forced; and it would do as well, or even better, were the it interpreted, if you make large presents to the God, if you pay the priest. Were not this inscription an object of attention among the learned, we should not at this distant period of time, have thought it worth mentioning, otherwise, than as it gives us an idea of one branch of Plutarch's education. But as a single word, inscribed on the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, cannot but be matter of curiosity with those who carry their inquiries into remote antiquity, we shall not scruple to add one more to the other conjectures concerning it. We will suppose then, that the was here used, in the Ionic dialect, for nQs, I wish. This perfectly expressed the state of mind of all that entered the temple on the business of consultation; and it might be no less ernphatical in the Greek than Virgil's Quanquam O! was in the Latin. If we carry this conjecture farther, and think it probable, that this word might, as the initial word of a celebrated line in the third book of the Odyssey, stand there to signify the whole line, we shall reach a degree of probability almost bordering on certainty. The verse we allude to is this ; "O that the Gods would empower me to obtain my wishes!" What prayer more proper on entering the temple of the Gods, particularly with the view of consulting them on the events of life. If it should be thought that the initial word is insufficient to represent a whole verse, we have to answer, that it was agreeable to the custom of the ancients. They not only conveyed the sense of particular verses by their initial words, but frequently of large passages by the quotation of a single line, or even of half a line; some instances of which occur in the following Lives. The reason of this is obvious. The works of their best poets were almost universally committed to memory ; and the smallest quotation was sufficient to convey the sense of a whole passage. These observations are matters of mere curiosity, indeed ; but they have had their use : for they have naturally pointed out to us another instance of the excellence of that education which formed our young philosopher. This was the improvement of memory, by means of exercise. Mr. Locke has justly, though obviously enough, observed, that nothing so much strengthens this faculty as the employment of it. The Greek mode of education must have had a wonderful effect in this case. The continual exercise of the memory, in laying up the treasures of their poets, the precepts of their philosophers, the problems of their mathematicians, must have given it that mechanical power of retention, which nothing could easily escape. Thus Pliny* tells of a Greek called Charmidas, who could repeat from memory the contents of the largest library. Hist. Nat. lib. vii. cap. 24. LIVE OF PLUTARCH. x j ne advantages Plutarch derived from this exercise appear in every part of his works. As the writings of poets lived in his memory, they were ready for use and application on every apposite occasion. They were always at hand, either to confirm the sentiments and justify the, principles of his heroes, to support his own, or to illustrate both. By the aid of a cultivated memory too, he was enabled to write a number of cotemporary Lives, and to assign to each such a portion of business in the general transactions of the times, as might be sufficient to delineate the character, without repeated details of the same actions and negotiations This made a very difficult part of his work ; and he acquitted himself here with great management and address. Sometimes, indeed, he has repeated the same circumstances in cotemporary lives ; but it was hardly avoidable. The great wonder is, that he has done it so seldom. But though an improved memory might, in this respect, be of service to him, as undoubtedly it was, there were others in which it was rather a disadvantage. By trusting too much to it, he has fallen into inaccuracies and inconsistencies, where he was professedly drawing from preceding writers ; and we have often been obliged to rectify his mistakes, by consulting those authors, because lie would not be at the pains to consult them himself. If Plutarch might properly be said to belong to any sect of philosophers, his education, the ration- ality of his principles, and the modesty of his doctrines, would incline us to place him. with the latter academy. At least, when he left his master Ammonius, and came into society, it is more than pro- bable, that he ranked particularly with that sect. His writings, however, furnish us with many reasons for thinking, that he afterward became a citizen of the philosophical world. He appears to have examined every sect with a calm and unpre- judiced attention; to have selected what he found of use for the purposes of virtue and happiness; and to have left the rest for the portion of those whose narrowness of mind could think either science or felicity confined to any denomination of men. From the Academicians he took their modesty of opinion, and left them their original skepticism : he borrowed their rational theology, and gave up to them, in a great measure, their metaphysical refinements, together with their vain, though seductive, enthusiasm. With the Peripatetics, he walked in search of natural science, and of logic; but, satisfied with what- ever practical kowledge might be acquired, he left them to dream over the hypothetical part of the former, and to chase the shadows of reason through the mazes of the latter. To the Stoics, he was indebted for the belief of a particular Providence; but he could not enter into their idea of future rewards and punishments. He knew not how to reconcile the present agency of the Supreme Being with his judicial character hereafter; though Theodoret tells us, that he had heard of the Christian religion, and inserted several of its mysteries in his works.* From the Stoics too, he borrowed the doctrine of fortitude : but he rejected the unnatural foundation on which they erected that virtue. He went back to Socrates for principles whereon to rest it. With the Epicureans he does not seem to have had much intercourse, though the accommodating philosophy of Aristippus entered frequently into his politics, and sometimes into the general econo- my of his life. In the little states of Greece, that philosophy had not much to do ; but had it been adopted in the more violent measures of the Roman Administration, our celebrated Biographer would not have had such scenes of blood and ruin to describe; for emulation, prejudice, and opposition, upon whatever principles they might plead their apology, first struck out the fire that laid the com- monwealth in ashes. If Plutarch borrowed anything more from Epicurus, it was his rational idea of enjoyment. That such was his idea, is more than probable ; for it is impossible to believe the tales that the Heathen bigots have told of him, or to suppose that the cultivated mind of a philosopher should pursue its happiness out of the temperate order of nature. His irreligious opinions he left to him, as he had left to the other sects their vanities and absurdities. But when we bring him to the school of Pythagoras, what idea shall we entertain of him? Shall we consider him any longer as an Academician, or as a citizen of the philosophical world? Naturally benevolent and humane, he finds a system of divinity and philosophy perfectly adapted to his natural sentiments. The whole animal creation he had originally looked upon with an instinctive tenderness; but when the amiable Pythagoras, the priest of Nature, in defense of the common privi- leges of her creatures, had called religion into their cause; when he sought to soften the cruelty that man had exercised against them, by the honest art of insinuating the doctrine of transmigration, how could the humane and benevolent Plutarch refuse to serve under this priest of Nature? It was impossible. He adopted the doctrine of the Metempsychosis. He entered into the merciful scheme of Pythagoras, and, like him, diverted the cruelty of the human species, by appealing to the selfish qualities of their nature, by subduing their pride, and exciting their sympathy, while he showed them that their future existence might be the condition of a reptile. This spirit and disposition break strongly from him in his observations on the elder Cato. And as nothing can exhibit a more lively picture of him than these paintings of his own, we shall not scruple to introduce them here: "For my part, I can not but charge his using his servants like so many beasts of burden, and turning them off, or selling them when they grew old, to the account of a mean and ungenerous spirit which thinks that the sole tie between man and man is interest or necessity. But goodness moves in a larger sphere than justice. 'The obligat. jns of law and sanity reach only to mankind, but kindness and beneficence should be extended to creatures of every spe- cies ; and these still flow from the breast of a well-natured man, as streams that issue from the living fountain. A good man will take care of his horses and dogs, not only while they are young, but when old and past service. Thus the people of Athens, when they had finished the Temple called Hecatompedon, set at liberty the beasts of burden that had been chiefly employed in the work, suffering them to pasture at large, free from any other service. It is said, that one of these after- ward came of its own accord to work, and, putting itself at the head of the laboring cattle, marched before them to the citadel. This pleased the people, and they made a decree, that it should be kept at the public charge so long as it lived. The graves of Cimon's mares, with which he thrice con- Nothing of Plutarch's is now extant, from which we can infer, that he was acquainted with the Christian religion. x LIFE OF PLUTARCH. quered at the Olympic games, are still to be seen near his own tomb. Many have shown particular marks of regard, in burying the dogs which they had cherished and been fond of; and among the rest Xantippus of old, whose dog swam by the side of his galley to Salamis, when the Athenians were forced to abandon their city, and was afterward buried by him upon a promontory, which to this day is called the Dog's Grave. We certainly ought not to treat living creatures like shoes or household goods, which, when worn out with use, we throw away ; and were it only to learn bene- volence to humankind, we should be merciful to other creatures. For my own part, I would not sell even an old ox that iiad labored for me ; much less would I remove, for the sake of a little money, a man grown old in rny service, from his usual lodgings and diet ; for to him, poor man ! it would be as bad as banishment, since he could be of no more use to the buyer than he was to the seller. But Cato, as if tie took a pride in these things, tells us, that when consul, he left his war- horse in Spain, to save the public the charge of his conveyance. Whether such things as these are instances of greatness or littleness of soul, let the reader judge for himself." What an amiable idea of our benevolent philosopher 1 Plow worthy the instructions of the priest of Nature! How honorable to that great master of truth and universal science, whose sentiments were decisive in every doubtful matter, and whose maxims were received with silent conviction 1* Wherefore should we wonder to find Plutarch more particularly attached to the opinions of this great man ? Whether we consider the immensity of iiis erudition, or the benevolence of his system, the motives for that attachment were equally powerful. Pythagoras had collected all the stores of human learning, and had reduced them into one rational and useful body of science. Like our glorious Bacon, he led Philosophy forth from the jargon of schools, and the fopperies of sects. He made her what she was originally designed to be. the handmaid of Nature ! friendly to her creatures, and faithful to her laws. Whatever knowledge could bo gained by human industry, by the most extensive inquiry and observation, he had every means and opportunity to obtain. The priests of Egypt unfolded tc him their mysteries and their learning ; they led him through the records of the remotest antiquity, and opened all those stores of science that had been amassing through a multi- tude of ages. The Magi of Persia co-operated with the priests of Egypt in the instruction of this wonderful philosopher. They taught him those higher parts of science, by which they were them- selves so much distinguished, astronomy and the system of the universe. The laws of moral life, and the institutions of civil societies, with their several excellencies and defects, he learned from the various states and establishments of Greece. Thus accomplished, when he came to dispute in the Olympic contests, he was considered as a prodigy of wisdom and learning : but when the choice of his title was left to him, he modestly declined the appellation of a wise man, and was contented only to be called a lover of wisdom.-^ Shall not Plutarch, then, meet with all imaginable indulgence, if, in his veneration for this great man, he not only adopted the nobler parts of his philosophy, but (what he had avoided with regard to the other sects) followed him too in his errors? Such, in particular, was his doctrine of dreams I to which our biographer, we must confess, has paid too much attention. Yet, absolutely to condemn him for this, would, perhaps, be hazarding as much as totally to defend him. We must acknowl- edge, with the elder Pliny, Si exemplis agatur, profecto paria jiant ;$ or, in the language of honest Sir Robert de Coverly, "Much may be said on both sides." However, if Pliny, whose complaisance for the credit of the marvelous in particular was very great, could be doubtful about this matter, we of little faith may be allowed to be more so. Yet Plutarch, in his Treatise on Oracles, has maintained his doctrine by such powerful testimonies, that if any regard is to be paid to his vera- city, some attention should be given to his opinion. We shall therefore leave the point, where Mr. Addison thought proper to leave a more improbable doctrine, in suspense. When Zeno consulted the oracle in what manner he should live, the answer was, that he should inquire of the dead. Assiduous and indefatigable application to reading made a considerable part of the Greek education ; and in this our biographer seems to have exerted the greatest industry. The number of books he has quoted, to which he has referred, and from which he has written, seems almost incredible, when it is considered that the art of printing was not known in his time, and that the purchase of manuscripts was difficult and dear. His family, indeed, was not without wealth. In his Symposiacs, he tells us, that it was ancient in Chseronea ; and that his ancestors had been invested with the most considerable offices in the magis- tracy. He mentions in particular his great-grandfather Nicarchus, whom he had the happiness of knowing ; and relates, from his authority, the misfortunes of his fellow-citizens, under the severe discipline of Antony's soldiers. His grandfather Lamprias, he tells us, was a man of great eloquence, and of a brilliant imagina- tion. He was distinguished by his merit as a convivial companion ; and was one of those happy mortals, who, when they sacrifice to Bacchus, are favored by Mercury. His good-humor and pleasantry increased with his cups ; and he used to say, that wine had the same effect upon him, that fire has on incense, which causes the finest and richest essences to evaporate. Plutarch has mentioned his father likewise ; but has not given us his name in any of those writ- ings that are come down to us. However, he has borne honorable testimony to his memory ; for he tells us, that he was a learned and a virtuous man, well acquainted with the philosophy and theo- logy of his time, and conversant with the works of the poets. Plutarch, in his Political Precepts, mentions an instance of his father's discretion, which does him great honor. "I remember," saya he, "that I was sent, when a very young man, along with another citizen of Chajronea, on an em- bassy to the proconsul. My colleague being, by some accident, obliged to stop in the way, I pro- ceeded without him, and executed our commission. Upon my return to Clueronea, when I was to give an account in public of my negotiation, my father took me aside, and said, my son, take care that in the account you are about to give, you do not mention yourself distinctly, but jointly with your colleague. Say not, / went, I spake, I executed ; but we went, we spake, we executed. Thus, though your colleague was incapable of attending you, he will share in the honor of your success, Val. Max. lib. viii. cap. 15. . f Val.Max. b. viii. cap. 7. t Hist. Nat. lib. x. cap. 75. LIFE OF PLUTARCH. xiij s well as in that of your appointment ; and you will avoid that envy which necessarily follows all arrogated merit." Plutarch had two brothers, whose names were Timon and Lamprias. These were his associates in study and amusement ; and he always speaks of them with pleasure and affection. Of Timon in particular he says, "Though Fortune has, on many occasions, been favorable to me, yet I have no obligations to her so great as the enjoyment of my brother Timon's invariable friendship and kindness." Lamprias too he mentions as inheriting the lively disposition and gooa-humor of his grandfather; who bore the same name. Some writers have asserted that Plutarch passed into Egypt. Others allege, that there is no authority for that assertion ; and it is true, that we have no written record concerning it. Neverthe- less, we incline to believe that he did travel into that country ; and we found our opinion on the following grounds. In the first place, this tour was a part of liberal education among the Greeks; and Plutarch, being descended from a family of distinction, was therefore likely to enjoy such a privilege. In the next place, his treatise of Isis and Osiris shows that he had a more than common knowledge of the religious mysteries of the Egyptians; and it is therefore highly probable, that he obtained this knowledge by being conversant among them. To have written a treatise on so abstruse a subject, without some more eminent advantages than other writers might afford him, could not have been agreeable to the genius, or consistent with the modesty of Plutarch. However, supposing it doubtful whether he passed into Egypt, there is no doubt at all that he traveled into Italy. Upon what occasion he visited that country, it is not quite so certain ; but he probably went to Rome in a public capacity, on the business of the Chaeroneans. For, in the life of Demosthenes, he tells us, that he had no leisure in his journey to Italy to learn the Latin lan- guage, on the account of public business. As the passage here referred to affords us further matter of speculation for the life of Plutarch, we shall give it as we find it. "An author who would write a history of events which happened in a foreign country, and cannot be come at in his own, as he has his materials to collect from a variety of books, dispersed in different libraries, his first care should be to take up his residence in some populous town which has an ambition for literature. There he will meet with many curious and valuable books; and the particulars that are wanting in writers, he may, upon inquiry, be supplied with, by those who have laid them up in the faithful repository of memory. This will prevent his work from being defective in any material point. As to myself, I live in a little town; and I choose to live there, lest it should become still less. When I was in Rome, and other parts of Italy, I had not leisure to study the Latin tongue, on account of the public commissions with which I was charged, and the number of people who came to be instructed by me in philosophy. It was not, therefore, until a late period in life that I began to read the Roman authors." From this short account, we may collect, with tolerable certainty, the following circumstances: In the first place, Plutarch tells us, that while he was resident in Rome, public business and lec- tures in philosophy left him no time for learning the Latin language; and yet, a little before, h% had observed that those who write a history of foreign characters and events, ought to be conversant with the historians of that country where the character existed, and the scene is laid; but he acknow- ledges, that he did not learn the Latin language until he was late in life, because, when at Rome, he had not time for that purpose. We may, therefore, conclude, that he wrote his Morals at Rome, and his Lives at Chseronea. For the composition of the former, the knowledge of the Roman language was not necessary: the Greek tongue was then generally understood in Rome : and he had no necessity for making use of any other, when he delivered his lectures of philosophy to the people. Those lectures, it is more than probable, made up tliat collection of Morals which is come down to us. Though he could not avail himself of the Roman historians, in the great purpose of writing his Lives, for want of a competent acquaintance with the language in which they wrote ; yet, by con- versing with the principal citizens in the Greek tongue, he must have collected many essential cir- cumstances, and anecdotes of characters and events, that promoted his design, aitd enriched the plan of his work. The treasures he acquired of this kind he secured by means of a common-place book, which he constantly carried about with him: and as it appears that he was at Rome, and in other Darts of Italy, from the beginning of Vespasian's reign to the end of Trajan's, he must have had sufficient time and opportunity to procure materials of every kind; for this was a period of almost forty years. We shall the more readily enter into the belief that Plutarch collected his materials chiefly frorn conversation, when we consider in what manner, and on what subjects, the ancients used to converse. The discourse of people of education and distinction in those days was somewhat different from that of ours. It was not on the powers or pedigree of a horse: it was not a match of traveling between geese and turkeys; it was not on a race of maggots, started against each other on the table, when they first came to daylight from the shell of a filbert : it was not by what part you may suspend a spaniel the longest without making him whine: it was not on the exquisite finesse, and the highest maneuvers of play. The old Romans had no ambition for attainments of this nature. They had no such masters in science as Heber and Hoyle. The taste of their day did not run so high. The powers of poetry and philosophy, the economy of human life and manners, the cultivation of the intellectual faculties, the enlargement of the mind, historical and political discussions on the events of their country; these, and such subjects as these, made the principal part of their conversation. Of this Plutarch has given us at once a proof and a specimen, in what he calls his Symposiacs, or, as our Selden calls it, his Table-Talk. From such conversations as these, then, we cannot wonder that he was able to collect such treasures as were necessary for the maintenance of his biographical undertaking. In the sequel of the last quoted passage, we find another argument which confirms us in the opinion that Plutarch's knowledge of the Roman history was chiefly of colloquial acquisition. "My method of learning the Roman language," says he, "may seem strange: and yet it is very true. I did not so much gain the knowledge of things by the words, as words by the knowledge x ' lv LIFE OF PLUTARCH I had of things." This phinly implies, that he was previously acquainted with the events described in the language he was learning. It must be owned that the Roman History had been already written in Greek, by Polybius; and that, indeed, somewhat invalidates the last-mentioned argument. Nevertheless, it has still sufficient evidence for its support. There are a thousand circumstances in Plutarch's Lives, which could not be collected from Polybius ; and it is clear to us, that he did not make much use of his Latin reading. He acknowledges that he did not apply himself to the acquisition of that language until he was far advanced in life: possibly it might be about the latter part of the reign of Trajan, whose kind disposition toward his country, rendered the weight of public and political business easy to him. But whenever he might begin to learn the language of Rome, it is certain that he made no great progress in it. This appears as well from the little comments he has occasionally given us on cer- tain Latin words, as from some passages in his Lives, where he has professedly followed the Latin historians, and yet followed them in an uncertain and erroneous manner. That he wrote the Lives of Demosthenes and Cicero at Chesronea, it is clear from his own ac- count; and it is more than probable too, that the rest of his Lives were written in that retirement; for if while he was at Rome, he could scarcely find time to learn the language, it is hardly to be supposed that he could do more than lay up materials for composition. A circumstance arises here, which confirms to us an opinion we have long entertained, that the Book of Apopthegms, which is said to have been written by Plutarch, is really not his work. This book is dedicated to Trajan ; and the dedicator assuming the name and character of Plutarch, says, he had, before this, written the Lives of illustrious Men : but Plutarch wrote those Lives at Chseronea ; and he did not retire to Chseronea until after the death of Trajan. There are other proofs, if others were necessary, to show that this work was supposititious. For, in this dedication to Trajan, not the least mention is made of Plutarch's having been his preceptor, of his being raised by him to the consular dignity, or of his being appointed governor of Illyria. Dacier, observing this, has drawn a wrong conclusion from it, and, contrary to the assertion of Sui- das, will have it, that Plutarch was neither preceptor to Trajan, nor honored with any appointments under him. Had it occurred to him that the Book of Apopthegms could not be Plutarch's book, but that it was merely an extract made from his real works, by some industrious grammarian, he would not have been under the necessity of hazarding so much against the received opinion of his con- nections with Trajan ; nor would he have found it necessary to allow him so little credit to his letter addressed to that emperor, which we have upon record. The letter is as follows: PLUTARCH TO TRAJAN. "I AM sensible that you sought not the empire. Your natural modesty would not suffer you tc apply^for a distinction to which you were always entitled by the excellency of your manners. That modesty, however, makes you still more worthy of those honors you had no ambition to soli- cit. Should your future government prove in any degree answerable to your former merit. I shall have reason to congratulate both your virtue and my own good fortune on this great event. But if otherwise, you have exposed yourself to danger, and me to obloquy ; for Rome will never endure an emperor unworthy of her; and the faults of the scholar will be imputed to the master. Seneca is reproached, and his fame stiU suffers, for the vices of Nero; the reputation of Quintilian is hurt by the ill conduct of his scholars; and even Socrates is accused of negligence in the education of Alcibiades. Of you, however, I have better hopes, and flatter myself that your administration will do honor to your virtues. Only continue to be what you are. Let your government commence in your breast ; and lay the foundation of it in the command of your passions. If you make virtue the rule of your conduct, and the end of your actions, everything will proceed in harmony and order. I have explained to you the spirit of those laws and constitutions that were established by your predecessors; and you have nothing to do but to carry them into execution. If this should bo the case, I shall have the glory of having formed an emperor to virtue ; but if otherwise, let this letter remain a testimony with succeeding ages, that you did not ruin the Roman empire under pre- tense of the counsels or the authority of Plutarch." Why Dacier should think that this letter is neither worthy of the pen, nor written in the manner of Plutarch, it is not easy to conceive : for it has all the spirit, the manly freedom, and the sentimen* tal turn of that philosopher. % We shall find it no very difficult matter to account for his connections with Trajan, if we attend to the manner in which he lived, and to the reception he met with in Rome. During his residence in that city, his house was the resort of the principal citizens. All that were distinguished by their rank, taste, learning, or politeness, sought his conversation, and attended his lectures. The study of the Greek language and philosophy were, at that time, the greatest pursuits of the Roman nobility and even the emperors honored the most celebrated professors with their presence and support! Plutarch, in his Treatise on Curiosity, has introduced a circumstance, which places the attention that was paid to his lectures 'u a very strong light. "It once happened," says he, "that when I was speaking in public at Rome, Arulenus Rusticus, the same whom Domitian, through envy of his growing reputation, afterward put to death, was one of rny hearers. When I was in the middle of my discourse, a soldier came in, and brought him a lelter from the emperor. Upon this, there was a general silence through the audience, and I stopped to give him time to peruse this letter : but he would not suffer it, nor did he open the letter until I had finished my lecture and the audience was dispersed. To understand the importance of this compliment, it will be necessary to consider the qualir/and character of the person who paid it. Arulenus was one of the greatest men in Rome; distin- guished as well by the luster of his family, as by an honorable ambition and thirst of glory. He was tribune of the people when Nero caused Pcetus and Soranus to be capitally condemned by a de- cree of the senate. When Soranus was deliberating with his friends, whether he should attempt or LIFE OF PLUTARCH. XT give up his defense, Arulenus had the spirit to propose an opposition to the decree of the senate, in his capacity of tribune; and he would have carried it into execution, had he not been overruled by Paetus, who remonstrated, that by such a measure he would destroy himself, without the satisfaction of serving his friend. He was afterward praetor after Vitellius, whose interests he followed with the greatest fidelity. But his spirit and magnanimity do him the greatest honor, in that eulogy which he wrote on Paetus and Helvidius Priscus. His whole conduct was regulated by the precepts of philosophy ; and the respect he showed to Plutarch on this occasion was a proof of his attachment to it. such was the man who postponed the letter of a prince to the lecture of a philosopher. But Plutarch was not only treated with general marks of distinction by the superior people in Rome ; he had particular and very respectable friendships. Sossius Senecio, who was four times consul, once under Nerva, and thrice under Trajan, was his most intimate friend. To him he ad- dresses his Lives, except that of Aratus, which is inscribed to Polycrates of Sycion, the grandson of Aratus. With Senecio he not only lived in the strictest friendship while he was in Rome, but corresponded with him after he retired to Greece. And is it not easy to believe, that through the interest of this zealous and powerful friend, Plutarch might not only be appointed tutor to Trajan, hut be advanced likewise to the consular dignity ? When we consider Plutarch's eminence in Rome as a teacher of philosophy, nothing can be more probable than the former : w-lien we remember the consular interest of Senecio under Trajan, and his distinguished regard for Plutarch, nothing can be more likely than the latter. The honor of being preceptor to such a virtuous prince as Trajan, is so important a point in the life of Plutarch, that it must not hastily be given up. Suidas has asserted it. The letter above quoted, if it be, as we have no doubt of its being, the genuine composition of Plutarch, has con- firmed it. Petrarch has maintained it. Dacier only has doubted, or rather denied it. But upon what evidence has he grounded his opinion ? Plutarch, he says, was but three or four years older than Trajan, and therefore was unfit to be his preceptor in philosophy. Now let us inquire into the force of this argument. Trajan spent the early part of his life in arms: Plutarch in the study of the sciences. When that prince applied himself to literary pursuits, he was somewhat advanced in life. Plutarch must have been more so. And why a man of science should be an unfit pre- ceptor in philosophy to a military man, though no more than four years older, the reason, we ap- prehend, will be somewhat difficult to discover. Dacier, moreover, is reduced to a petitio principii, when he says that Plutarch was only four years older than Trajan; for we have seen that it is impossible to ascertain the time of Plutarch's birth; and the date which Dacier assigns it is purely conjectural: we will therefore conclude, with those learned men who have formerly allowed Plutarch the honor of being preceptor to Trajan, that he certainly was so. There is little doubt that they grounded their assertions upon proper authority; and, indeed, the internal evidence arising from the nature and effects of that education, which did honor to the scholar and to the master, comes in aid of the argument. Some chronologers have taken upon them to ascertain the time when Plutarch's reputation was established in Rome. Peter of Alexandria fixes it in the thirteenth year of the reign of Nero, in the Consulate of Capito and Rufus: "Lucian," says he, "was, at this time, in great reputation among the Romans; and Musonius and Plutarch were well known." Eusebius brings it one year lower, and tells us, that, in the fourteenth year of Nero's reign, Musonius and Plutarch were in great reputation. Both these writers are palpably mistaken. We have seen, that in the twelfth year of Nero, Plutarch was yet at school under Ammonias; and it is not very probable that a school-boy should be celebrated as a philosopher in Rome, within a year or two after. Indeed, Eusebius contradicts himself; for, on another occasion, he places him in the reign of Adrian, the third year of the Olympiad 224, of the Christian era 120: "In this year," says he, "the philosophers Plutarch of Chaeronea, Sextus, and Agathobulus, flourished." Thus he carries him as much too low, as he had before placed him too high. It is certain, that he first grew into reputation under the reign of Vespasian, and that his philosophical fame was established in the time of Trajan. It seems that the Greek and Latin writers of those times were either little acquainted with each other's works, or that there were some literary jealousies and animosities between them. When Plutarch flourished, there were several cotemporary writers of distinguished abilities; Perseus, Lucan, Silius Italicus, Valerius Flaccus, the younger Pliny, Solinus, Martial, Quintilian, and many more. Yet none of those have made the least mention of him. WHS this envy? or was it Roman pride? Possibly they could not bear that a Greek sophist, a native of such a contemptible town as Chaeronea, should enjoy the palm of literary praise in Rome. It must be observed, at the same time, that the principal' Roman writers had conceived a jealousy of the Greek philosophers, which was very prevailing in that age. Of this we find a strong testimony in the elder Pliny, where, speaking of Cato the Censor's disapproving and dismissing the Grecian orators, and of the younger Cato's bringing in triumph a sophist from Greece, he exclaims in terms that signified contempt, quanta morum commutatio ! However, to be undistinguished by the encomiums of cotemporary writers, was by no means a thing peculiar to Plutarch. It has been, and still is, the fate of superior genius, to be beheld either with silent or abusive envy. It makes its way like the sun, which we look upon with pain, unlesf something passes over him that obscures his glory. We then view with eagerness the shadow, tha eloud or the spot, and are pleased with what eclipses the brightness we otherwise cannot bear. Yet, if Plutarch, like other great men, found "Envy never conquered but by death," his manes have been appeased by the amplest atonements. Among the many that have done honor to his memory, the following eulogiurns deserve to be recorded. Aui.us GELLIUS compliments him with the highest distinction in science.* TAURUS, quoted by Gellius, calls him a man of the most consummate learning and wisdom.f EJSEBIUS places him at the head of the Greek philosophers.^ A, Gelliui, lib. iv, cap. 7. t Cell. lib. i, cap. 26. J Euseb. Priep. lib. iu, utit. xvi LIFE OF PLUTARCH. SARDIANUS, in his Preface to the Lives of the Philosophers, calls him the most divine Plutarch, the beauty and harmony of philosophy. PETRARCH, in his moral writings, frequently distinguishes him by the title of the great Plutarch. Honor has been done to him likewise by Origen, Himerias the Sophist, Cyrillus, Theodoret, Suidas, Photius, Xiphilinus, Joannes Salisberiensis, Victorius, Lipsius, and Agathias in the epigram which is thus translated by Dryden: er eroes wrten, an er ves compare But thou thyself couldst never write thy own; Their lives have parallels, but thine has none. But this is perfectly extravagant. We are much better pleased with the Greek verses of the honest Metropolitan under Constantino Monomachus. They deserve to be translated. Lord of that light, that living power to save Which her lost sons no Heathen Science gave; If aught of these thy mercy means to spare, Yield Plato, Lord, yield Plutarch to my prayer. Led by no grace, no new conversion wrought, They felt thy own divinity of thought. That grace exerted, spare the partial rod: The last, best witness, that thou art their God! Theodore Gaza, who was a man of considerable learning, and a great reviver of letters, had a particular attachment to our biographer. When he was asked, in case of a general destruction of books, what author he would wish to save from the ruin, he answered Plutarch. He considered his historical and philosophical writings as the most beneficial to society, and of course, the best substi- tute for all other books. Were it necessary to produce further suffrages for the merit of Plutarch, it would be sufficient to say, that he has been praised by Montaigne, St. Evremont and Montesquieu, the best critics and the ablest writers of their time. After receiving the most distinguished honors that a philosopher could enjoy; after the god-like office of teaching wisdom and goodness to the metropolis of the world; after having formed an emperor to virtue; and after beholding the effects of his precepts in the happiness of humankind: Plutarch retired to his native country. The death of his illustrious prince and pupil, to a man of his sensibility, must have rendered Rome even painful: for whatever influence philosophy may have on the cultivation of the mind, we find that it has very little power over the interests of the heart. It must have been in the decline of life that Plutarch retired to Chseronea. But though he with- drew from the busier scenes of the world, he fled not to an unprofitable or inactive solitude. In that retirement he formed the great work for which he had so long been preparing materials, his Lives of Illustrious men; a work which, as Scaliger says, non solum fuit in manibus hominum, at etiam humani generis memoriam occupavit. To recommend by encomiums what has been received with universal approbation, would be superfluous. But to observe where the biographer has excelled, and in what he has failed; to make a due estimate as well of the defects as of the merits of his work; may have its use. Lipsius has observed, that he does not write history, but scraps of history; non historian, sed particulas historic. This is said of his Lives, and, in one sense, it is true. No single life that he has written will afford a sufficient history of its proper period; neither was it possible that it should do so. As his plan comprised a number of cotemporary lives, most of which were in public charac- ters, the business of their period was to be divided among them. The general history of the time was to be thrown into separate portions; and those portions were to be allotted to such characters as had the principal interest in the several events. This was, in some measure, done by Plutarch; but it was not done with great art or accuracy. At the same time, as we have already observed, it is not to be wondered, if there were some repe- titions, when the part which the several characters bore in the principal events, was necessary to be pointed out. Yet these scraps of history, thus divided and dispersed, when seen in a collective form, make no very imperfect narrative of the times within their view. Their biographer's attention to the mi- nuter circumstances of character, his disquisitions of principles and manners, and his political and philosophical discussions, lead us, in an easy and intelligent manner, to the events he describes. It is not to be denied, that his narratives are sometimes disorderly, and too often encumbered with impertinent digressions. By pursuing with too much indulgence the train of ideas, he has fre- quently destroyed the order of facts, brought together events that lay at a distance from each other, called forward those circumstances to which he should have made a regular progress, and made no other apology for these idle excursions, but by telling us that he is out of the order of time. Notes, in the time of Plutarch, were not in use. Had he known the convenience of marginal writing, he would certainly have thrown the greatest part of his digressions into that form. They are, undoubtedly, tedious and disgustful; and all we can do to reconcile ourselves to them, is to remember,'that, in the first place, marginal writing was a thing unknown; and that the benevolent desire of conveying instruction, was the greatest motive with the biographer for introducing them. This appears, at least, from the nature of them; for they are chiefly disquisitions in natural history and philosophy. In painting the manners of men, Plutarch is truly excellent. Nothing can be more clear than his moral distinctions; nothing finer than his delineations of the mind. The spirit of philosophical observation and inquiry, which, when properly directed, is the great ornament and excellence of historical composition, Plutarch possessed in an eminent degree. His LIFE OF PLUTARCH. biographical writings teach philosophy at once by precept and by example. His morals and hi characters mutually explain and give force to each other. His sentiments of the duty of a biographer were peculiarly just and delicate. This will appear from his strictures on those historians who wrote of Philistus. "It is plain," says he, "that Timaeus takes every occasion; from Philistus's known adherence to arbitrary power, to load him with the heaviest reproaches. Those whom he injured are in some degree excusable, if, in their resentment, they treated him with indignities after death. But wherefore should, bis biographers, whom he never injured, and who have had the benefit of his works; wherefore should they exhibit him with all the exaggerations of scurrility, in those scenes of distress to which fortune sometimes reduces the best of men? On the other hand, Ephorus is no less extravagant in his encomiums on Philistus. He knows well how to throw into shade the foibles of the human character, and to give an air of plausibility to the most indefensible conduct: but with all his elegance, with all his art, he cannot rescue Philistus from the imputation of being the most strenuous supporter of arbitrary power, of being the fondest follower and admirer of the luxury, the magnificence, the alliance of tyrants. Upon the whole, he who neither defends the principles of Philistus, nor exults over his misfortunes, will best discharge the duties of the historian." There is such a thing as constitutional religion. There is a certain temper and frame of mind naturally productive of devotion. There are men who are born with the original principles of piety; and in this class we need not hesitate to place Plutarch. If this disposition has sometimes made him too indulgent to superstition, and too attentive to the less rational circumstances of the heathen theology, it is not to be wondered. But, upon the whole, he had consistent and honorable notions of the Supreme Being. That lie believed the unity of the Divine Nature, we have already seen, in his observations on the word u, engraved on Apollo's temple. The same opinion, too, is found in his Treatise on the Cessation of Oracles; where, in the character of a Platonist, he argues against the Stoics, who denied the plurality of worlds. "If there are many worlds," said the Stoics, "why then there is only one Fate, and one Providence to guide them; for the Platouists allow that there is but one. Why should not many Jupiters, or Gods, be necessary for the government of many worlds?" To this Plutareh answers, "Where is the necessity of supposing many Jupiters for this plurality of worlds? Is not one excellent Being, endued with reason and intelligence, such as He is whom we acknowledge to be the Father and Lord of all things, sufficient to direct and rule these worlds? If there were more supreme agents, their decrees would be vain, and contradictory to each other." But though Plutarch acknowledged the individuality of the Supreme Being, he believed, never- theless, in the existence of intermediate beings of an inferior order, between the divine and the human nature. These beings he calls genii, or demons. It is impossible, he thinks, from the general order and principles of creation, that there should be no mean betwixt the two extremes of a mortal and immortal being; that there cannot be in nature so great a vacuum, without some intermediate wpecies of life, which might in some measure partake of both. And as we find the connection between soul and body to be made by means of the animal spirits, so these demons are intelligences between divinity and humanity. Their nature, however, is believed to be progressive. At first they are supposed to have been virtuous men, whose souls being refined from the gross parts of their former existence, are admitted into the higher order of genii, and are from thence either raised to a more exalted mode of etherial being, or degraded to mortal forms, according to their merit or their degeneracy. One order of these genii, he supposes, presides over oracles; others adminstered, under the Supreme Being, the affairs and the fortunes of men, supporting the virtuous, punishing the bad, and some- times even communicating with the best and purest natures. Thus the genius of Socrates still warned him of approaching danger, and taught him to avoid it. It is this order of beings which the late Mr. Thompson, who in enthusiasm was a Platonist, anci in benevolence a Pythagorean, has so beautifully described in his Seasons; and, as if the good bard had believed the doctrine, he pathetically invokes a favorite spirit which had lately forsaken ita former mansion: And art thon, Stanley, of that sacred band ? Alas! for us too soon! * Such were Plutarch's religious principles; and as a proof that he thought them of consequence, he entered, after his retirement, into a sacred character, and was consecrated priest of Apollo. This was not his sole appointment, when he returned to Choeronea. He united the sacerdotal with the magisterial character, and devoted himself at once to the service of the gods, and to the duties of society. He did not think that philosophy, or the pursuit of letters, ought to exempt any man from personal service in the community to which he belonged; and though his literary labors were of the greatest importance to the world, he sought no excuse in those from discharging offices of public trust in his little city of Chaeronea. It appears that he passed through several of these offices, and that he was at last appointed archon, or chief magistrate of the city. Whether he retained his superintendency of Illyria after the death of Trajan, we do not certainly know: but, in this humble sphere, it will be worth our while to inquire in what manner a philosopher would administer justice. With regard to the inferior offices that he bore, he looked upon them in the same light as the great Epaminondas had done, who, when he was appointed to a commission beneath his rank, ob- served, "that no office could givd dignity to him that held it; but that he who held it might give dignity to any office." It is not unentertaining to hear our philosopher apologize for his employ- ment, when he discharges the office of commissioner of sewers and public buildings. "I make no doubt," says he, "that the citizens of Chaeronea often smile, when they see me employed in such offices as these. On such occasions, I generally call to mind what is said of Antisthenes: When he was bringing home, in his own hands, a dirty fish from the market, some, who observed it, ex- pressed their surprise; 'It is for myself,' said Anthisthenes, 'that I carry this fish.' On the con- trary, for my own part, when I am rallied for measuring tiles, or for calculating a quantity of xvi ii LIFE OF PLUTARCH. stones or mortar, I answer, that it is not for myself I do these things, but for my country. For, in all things of this nature, the public utility takes off the disgrace; and the meaner the office you sustain may be, the greater is the compliment that you pay to the public." Plutarch, in the capacity of a public magistrate, was indefatigable in recommending unanimity to the citizens. To carry this point more effectually, he lays it down as a iirst principle, that a magistrate should be affable and easy of access; that his house should always be open as a place of refuge for those who sought for justice; and that he should not satisfy himself merely with allotting certain hours of the day to sit for the dispatch of business, but that he should employ a part of his time iu private negotiations, in making up domestic quarrels, and reconciling divided friends. This employment he regarded as one of the principal parts of his office; and, indeed, he might properly consider it in a political light, for it too frequently happens, that the most dangerous public factions are at first kindled by private misunderstanding*. Thus, in one part of his works, he falls into the same sentiment: "As public conflagrations," says he, "do not always begin in public edifices, but are caused more frequently by some lamp neglected in a private house; so in the administration of states, it does not always happen that the flame of sedition arises from political differences, but from private dissensions, which, running through a long chain of connections, at length affect the whole body of the people. For this reason, it is one of the principal duties of a minister of state or magistrate, to heal these private animosities, and to prevent them from growing into public divi- sions." After these observations, he mentions several states and cities which had owed their ruin to the same little causes; and then adds, that we ought not by any means to be inattentive to the mis- understandings of private men, but apply to them the most timely remedies; for, by proper care, as Cato observes, what is great becomes little, and what is little is reduced to nothing. Of the truth of these observations, the annals of our own country, we wish we had no reason to say our own times, have presented us with many melancholy instances. As Plutarch observed that it was a fashionable fault among men of fortune to refuse a proper respect to magistrates of inferior rank, he endeavored to remove this impolitic evil as well by precept as by example. 'To learn obedience and deference to the magistrate," says he, "is one of the first and best prin- ciples of discipline; nor ought these by any means to be dispensed with, though that magistrate should be inferior to us in figure or in fortune. For how absurd is it, if, in theatrical exhibitions, the meanest actor, that wears a momentary diadem, shall receive his due respect from superior players; and yet, in civil life, men of greater power or wealth shall withhold the deference that is due to the magistrate! In this case, however, they should remember, that while they consult their own impor- tance, they detract from the honor of the state. Private dignity ought always to give place to public authority; as, in Sparta, it was usual lor the kings to rise in compliment to the ephori." With regard to Plutarch's political principles, it is clear that he was, even while at Rome, a Republican in heart, and a friend to liberty: but this does him no peculiar honor. Such privileges are the birthright of mankind; and they are never parted with but through fear or favor. At Rome, he acted like a philosopher of the world. Quando noi siamo in Roma, noi faciamo come Eglino fanno in Roma. He found a constitution which he had not power to alter; yet, though he could not make mankind free, he made them comparatively happy, by teaching clemency to their temporary ruler." At Chaeronea we find him more openly avowing the principles of liberty. During his residence at Rome, he had remarked an essential rror in the police. In all complaints and processes, however trifling, the people had recourse to the first officers of state. By this means they supposed that their interest would be promoted; but it had a certain tendency to enslave them still more, and to render them the tools and dependents of court power. Of these measures the archon of Chreronea thus expresses his disapprobation: "At the same time," says he, "that we endeavor to render a city obedient to its magistrates, we must beware of reducing it to a servile or too humiliating a con- dition. Those who carry every trifle to the cognizance of the supreme magistrate, are contributing all they can to the servitude of their country." And it is undoubtedly true, that the habitual and universal exertion of authority has a natural tendency to arbitrary dominion. We have now considered Plutarch in the light of a philosopher, a biographer, and a magistrate; we have entered into his moral, religious and political character, as well as the information we could obtain would enable us. It only remains that we view him in the domestic sphere of life that little, but trying sphere, where we act wholly from ourselves, and assume no character but that which nature and education have given us. Dacier, on falling into this part of Plutarch's history, has made a whimsical observation. "There are two cardinal points," says he, "in a man's life, which determine his happiness or his misery. These are his birth and his marriage. It is iu vain for a man to be born fortunate, if he be unfortunate in his marriage." How Dacier could reconcile the astrologers to this new doctrine, it is not easy to say: for, upon this principle, a man must at least have two good stars, one for his birth day, the other for his wedding day; as it seems that the influence of the natal star could not extend beyond the bridal morn, but that a man then falls under a different dominion. At what time Plutarch entered into this state, we are not quite certain; but as it is not probable that a man of his wisdom would marry at an advanced time of life, and as his wife was a native of Chceronea, we may conclude that he married before he went to Rome. However that might be, it appears that he was fortunate in his choice; for his wife was not only well-born and well-bred, but a woman of distinguished sense and virtue. Her name was Timoxena Plutarch appears to have had at least five children by her, four sons, and a daughter, whom, out of regard for her mother, he called Timoxena. He has given us a proof that he had all the tender- ness of an affectionate father for these children, by recording a little instance of his daughter's natural benevolence. "When she was very young," says he, "she would frequently beg of her nurse to give the breast not only to the other children, but to her babies and dolls, which she con- sidered as her dependents, and under her protection." Who does not see, in this simple circum- stance, at once the fondness of the parent, and the benevolent disposition of the man? But the philosopher soon lost his little blossom of humanity. His Timoxena died in her infancy; LIFE OF PLUTARCH. xix and if we may judge from the consolatory letter he wrote to her mother on the occasion, be bare the loss as became a philosopher. "Consider," said he, "that death has deprived your Timoxena only of small enjoyments. The things she knew were but of little consequence, and she could be delighted only with trifles." In this letter we find a portrait of his wife which does her the greatest honor. From the testimony given by her husband, it appears that she was far above the general weakness and affectation of her sex. She had no passion for the expensiveness of dress, or the parade of public appearances. She thought every kind of extravagance blarnable, and her ambition went not beyond the decencies and proprieties of life. Plutarch had before this buried two of his sons, his eldest son, and a younger named Charon, and it appears from the above mentioned letter, that the conduct of Timoxena, on these events, was worthy the wife of a philosopher. She did not disfigure herself by change of apparel, or give way to the extravagance of grief, as women in general do on such occasions, but supported the dispensations of Providence with a solemn and rational submission, even when they seemed to be most severe She had taken unwear>d pains, and undergone the greatest sufferings, to nurse her son Charon.at her own breast, at a time when an abscess formed near the part had obliged her to undergo an incision. Yet, when the child, reared witn c much tender pain and difficulty, died, those who went to visit her on the melancholy occasion, found her house in no more disorder than if nothing distressing had happened. She received her friends as Admetus entertained Hercules, who, the same day that he buried Alceste, betrayed not the least confusion before his heroic guest. With a woman of so much dignity of mind and excellence of disposition, a man of Plutarch's wisdom and humanity must have been infinitely happy: and, indeed, it appears from those precepts of conjugal happiness and affection which he has left us, that he has drawn his observations from experience, and that the rules he recommended had been previously exemplified in his own family. It is said that Plutarch had some misunderstanding with his wife's relations: upon which Timoxena, fearing that it might affect their union, had duty and religion enough to go as far as Mount Helicon and sacrifice to Love, who had a celebrated temple there. He left two sons, Plutarch and Lamprias. The latter appears to have been a philosopher, and it is to hirn we are indebted for a catalogue of his father's writings; which, however, one cannot look upon, as Mr. Dryden says, without the same emotions that a merchant must feel in perusing a bill of freight after he has lost his vessel. The writings no longer extant are these: Hercules, Hesiod. Pindar,' Crates and Daiphantus, with a Parallel, Leonidas, Aristomenes, The Lives of . Scipio Africanus, Junior, and Metellus, Augustus, Tiberius, Claudius, Nero, Caligula, Vitellius, Epaminondas and the Elder Scipio, with a Parallel. Four Books of Commentaries on Homer. Four Books of Commentaries on Hesiod. Five Books to Empedocles, on the Quintessence. Five Books of Essays. Three Books of Fables. Three Books of Rhetoric. Three Books on the Introduction of the Soul. Two Books of Extracts from the Philosophers. Three Books on Sense. Three Books on the great Actions of Cities. Two Books on Politics. An Essay on Opportunity, to Theophrastus. Four Books on the Obsolete Parts of History. Two Books of Proverbs. Eight Books on the Topics of Aristotle. Three Books on Justice, to Chrysippus. An Essay on Poetry. A Dissertation on the Difference between the Pyrrhonians and the Academicians. A Treatise to prove that there was but one Academy of Plato. Aulus Gellius has taken a long story from Taurus, about Plutarch's method of correcting a slave, ,n which there is nothing more than this, that he punished him like a philosopher, and gave him his discipline without being out of temper. Plutarch had a nephew named Sextus, who bore a considerable reputation in the world of letters, and taught the Greek language and learning to Marcus Antoninus. The character which that phi- losopher lias given him, in his First Book of Reflections, may, with great propriety, be applied to his uncle. "Sextus, by his example, taught me mildness and humanity to govern my house like a good father of a family; to fall into an easy and unaffected gravity of manners; to live agreeably to nature; to find out the art of discovering and preventing the wants of my friends; to connive at the noisy follies of the ignorant and impertinent; and to comply with the understandings and the humors of men." One of the rewards of philosophy is long life; and it is clear that Plutarch enjoyed this; but of th time, or the circumstances of his death, we have no satisfactory account. PLUTARCH'S LIVES. THESEUS. AS geographers thrust into the extremities of their maps those countries that are unknown to them, remarking at the same time, that all beyond is hills of sand and haunts of wild beasts, frozen seas, marshes, and mountains that are inaccessible to human courage or industry; so, in comparing the lives of illustrious men, when I have passed through those periods of time which may be de- scribed with probability, and where history may find firm footing in facts, I may say, my Senecio,* of the remoter ages, that all beyond is full of pro- digy and fiction, the regions of poets and fabulists, wrapped in clouds, and unworthy of belief.t Yet since I had given an account of Lycurgus and Numa, I thought I might without impropriety as? cend to Romulus, as I had approached his times. But considering Who, for the palm, in contest high shall join? Or who in equal ranks shall stand? (as JEschylus expresses it) it appeared to me, that he who peopled the beautiful and famed city of Athens, might be best contrasted and compared with the father of the magnificent and invincible Rome. Permit us then to take from Fable her ex- travagance, and make her yield to, and accept the form of, History: but where she obstinately de- Bpises probability, and refuses to mix with what is credible, we m ust implore the candor of our readers, and their kind allowance for the tales of Anti- quity. THESEUS, then, appeared to answer to Romulus in many particulars. Both were of uncertain par- entage, born out of wedlock; and both had the repute of being sprung from the gods. Both stood in the first rank of warriors; for both had great powers of mind, with great strength of body. One was the founder of Rome, and one peopled Athens, the most illustrious cities in the world. Both car- ried off women by violence. Both were involved in domestic miseries, and exposed to family resent- ment:i and both, toward the end of their lives, are sam to have offended their respective citizens, if ve may believe what seems to be delivered with the least mixture of poetical fiction. The lineage of Theseus, by his father's side, tretches to Erectheus and the first inhabitants * Sossins Senecio, a man of consular dignity, who flour- ished under Nerva and Trajan, and to who'm Pliny ad- dressed some of his Epistles; not the Senecio put to death by Domitian. t The wild fictions of the fabulous ages may partly be accounted for from the genius of the writers, who (as Plu- tarch observes) were chiefly poets; and partly from an af- fectation of something extraordinary or preternatural in antiquity, which has generally prevailed, both in nations and families. t fcJsTjjsc? ft tfi/? Tvyfta. jrtfi TO. oix.ii*. &au vtfjiwv ryytx.v of this country;* by his mother's side to Pelops,t who was the most powerful of all the Peloponne- sian kings, not only on account of his great opu- lence, but the number of his children: for ha married his daughters to persons of the first dig- nity, and found means to place his sons at the head of the chief states. One of them, named Pittheus, grandfather to Theseus, founded the small city of Trcezene, and was esteemed the most learned and the wisest man of his age. The es- sence of the wisdom of those days consisted in such moral sentences as Hesiodi is celebrated for in his Book of Works. One of these is ascribed to Pittheus : Blast not the hope which friendship has conceived, But fill its measure high. This is confirmed by Aristotle: and Euripides, in saying that Hippolytus was taught by " the sage and venerable Pittheus," gives him a very honorable testimony. jEgeus wanting to have children, is said to have received, from the Oracle at Delphi, that cele- brated answer which commanded him not to ap- proach any woman before he returned to Athens. But as the Oracle seemed not to give him clear in- struction, he came to Troezene, and communi- cated it to Pittheus in the following terms: The mystic vessel shall nntouch'd remain, Till in thy native realm It is uncertain what Pittheus saw in this Ora- cle. However, either by persuasion or deceit, he drew JEgeus into conversation with his daughter ^Ethra. ^Egeus afterward coming to know that she whom he had lain with was Pittheus's daugh- ter, and suspecting her to be with child, hid a sword and a pair of sandals under a large stone, * Theseus was the sixth in descent from Erectheus, of Ericthonius, said to be the son of Vulcan and Minerva, or Cranae, grand-daughter of Cranaus, the second king of Athens; so that Plutarch very justly says, that Theseus was descended from the Autocthones, or first inhabitants of Attica, who were so called because they pretended to b born in that very country. It is generally allowed, how- ever, that this kingdom was founded by Cecrops, an Egyp-. tian, who brought hither a colony of Saites, about the yea/ of the world 2448, before Christ "1556. The inhabitants of Attica were indeed a more ancient people than those of many other districts of Greece, which being of a more fer- tile soil, often changed their masters, while few were am- bitious of settling in a barren country. t Pelops was the son of Tantalus, and of Phrygian ex- traction. He carried with him immense riches into Pelo- ponnesus, which he had dug out of the mines of Mount Sypilus. By means of this wealth, he got the government of the most considerable towns for his sons, and married his daughters to princes. i Hesiod flourished about five hundred years after Pit- theus. Solomon wrote his Moral Sentences two or tbrea hundred years after Fitthetu. (21) PLUTARCH'S LIVES. which had a cavity for the purpose. Before his departure, he told the secret to the princess only, and left orders, that if she brought forth a sou, who, when he came to a man's estate, should be able to remove the stone, and take away the things left under it, she should send him with these tokens to him with all imaginable privacy; for he was very much afraid that some plot would be formed against him by the Pallantidae, who de- spised him for his want of children. These were fifty brothers, the sons of Pallas.* ^Ethra was delivered of a son; and some say he was immediately named Theseus, f because of the laying up of the tokens; others, that he re- ceived his name afterward at Athens, when ^Egeus acknowledged him for his son. He was brought up by Pittheus, and had a tutor named Connidas, to whom the Athenians, even in iur times, sacri- fice a ram on the day preceding the Thesean Feasts, giving this honor to his memory upon a much juster account than that which they pay to Silanion and Parrhasius, who only made statues and pictures of Theseus. As it was then the custom for such as had ar- rived at man's estate, to go to Delphi to offer the first-fruits of their hair to Apollo, Theseus went thither, and the place where this ceremony is per- formed, from him, is said to be yet called Thesea. He shaved, however, only the fore part of his head, as Homer tells us the Abantes did;J and this kind of tonsure, on his account, was called Theseis. The Abantes first cut their hair in this manner, not in imitation of the Arabians, as some imagine, nor yet of the Mysians, but be- cause they were a warlike people, who loved close fighting, and were more expert in it than any other nation. Thus Archilochus; These twang not bows, nor sling the- hissing stone, When Mars exults, and fields with armies groan: Far nobler skill Euboea's sons display, And with the thundering sword decide the fray. That they might not, therefore, give advantage to their enemies by their hair, they took care to cut it off. And we are informed that Alexander of Macedon, having made the same observation, or- dered his Macedonian troops to cut off their beards, these being a ready handle in battle. For some time, JEthra. declared not the real father of Theseus, but the report propagated by Pittheus was, that he was the sou of Neptune: for the Troazenians principally worship that god; he is the patron of their city; to him they offer their first-fruits; and their money bears the im- pression of a trident. Theseus, in his youth, discovering not only great strength of body, but firmness and solidity of mind, together with a large share of understanding and prudence, JEihra. led him to the stone, and having told him the * Pallas was brother to ^Egeus, and as J3geus was sup- posed to have no children, the Pallantidae considered the kingdom of Athens as their undoubted inheritance. It was natural, therefore, for YEgeus to conclude, that, if they came to know he had a son, they would attempt to assas- 8ina.(e either him or his .son. tThe Greeks, as well as the Hebrews, gave names both to persons and things from some event or circumstance at- tending that which they were to name. The Greek word T/ifSis signifies laying up, and thestkai irian, to acknair- Icdifc, or rather to adapt, a .-:on. /Egens did b<^h; the cere- mony of adoption being necessary to enable Theseus, who was not a legitimate son, to inherit the crown. JThe Abantes were the inhabitants of Eubrea, but origin- ally of Aba;, a town in Thrace. 5 Archilochus was a Greek poet, who lived about the time of Romulus. Homer had given the same account of the Abantes above three hundred years before. For, in the second book of the Iliad, he tells us, the Abantes pierced the breastplate;) of their enemies with extended spears or pikes; that is to say, they fought hand to hand. truth concerning his origin, ordered him to take up his father's tokens, and sail to Athens. He easily removed the stone, but refused to go by sea, though he might have done it with great safety, and though he was pressed to it by the entreaties of his grandfather and his mother; while it was hazardous, at that time, to go by land to Athens, because no part was free from the danger of ruf- fians and robbers. Those times, indeed, produced men of strong and indefatigable powers of body, of extraordinary swiftness and agility; but they applied those powers to nothing just or useful. On the contrary, their genius, their disposition, their pleasures, tended only to insolence, to vio- lence, and to rapine. As for modesty, justice, equity, and humanity, they looked upon them a* qualities in which those who had it in their power to add to their possessions, had no manner of concern; virtues praised only by such as were afraid of being injured, and who abstained from njuring others out of the same principle of fear. Some of these ruffians were cut off by Hercules in his peregrinations, while others escaped to their lurking holes, and were spared by the hero in contempt of their cowardice. But when Hercules had unfortunately killed Iphitus, he retired to Ly- dia, where, for a long time, he was a slave to Om- phale,* a punishment which he imposed upon himself for the murder. The Lydians then en- joyed great quiet and security; but in Greece the same kind of enormities broke out anew, there being no one to restrain or quell them. It was therefore extremely dangerous to travel by land from Peloponnesus to Athens; and Pittheus, ac- quainting Theseus with the number of these ruf- fians, and with their cruel treatment of strangers, advised him to go by sea. But he had long been secretly fired with the glory of Hercules, whom he held in the highest esteem, listening with great attention to such as related his achievements, particularly to those that had seen him, conversed with him, and had been witnesses to his prowess. He was affected in the same manner as Themis- tocles afterward was, when he declared that the trophies of Miltiades would not suffer him to sleep. The virtues of Hercules were his dream by night, and by day emulation led him out and spurred him on to perform some exploits like his. Beside, they were nearly related, being born of cousin-germans; for ^Ethra was the daughter of Pittheus and Alcmena, of Lysidice, and Pittheus" and Lysidice were brother and sister by Pelops and Hippouamia. He considered it, therefore, as an insupportable dishonor, that Hercules should traverse both sea and land to clear them of these villains, while he himself declined such adven- tures as occurred to him; disgracing his reputed father, if he took his voyage, or rather flight, by sea; and carrying to his real father a pair of san- dals, and a sword unstained with blood, instead of the ornament of great and good actions, to assert and add luster to his noble birth. With such thoughts and resolutions as these he set forward, determined to injure no one, but to take ven- geance of such as should offer him any violence. He was first attacked by Periphetes, in Epidau- ria, whose weapon was a club, and who, on that account was called Corynetes, or the- Club- bearer. He engaged with him, and slew him. Delighted with the cluh, he took it for his weapon, and used it as Hercules did the lion's skin. The skia was a proof of the vast size of the wild beast which * Those who had been guilty of mnrder became volun- tary exiles, and imposed on themselves a certain penance, which they continued until they thought thea crime piatenl . THESEUS. 28 that hero had slain; and Theseus carried about with him this club, whose stroke he had been able to parry, but which, in his hand, was irresistible. In the Isthmus he slew Sinnis the Pine-bender,* in the same manner as he had destroyed many others: and this he did, not as having learned or practiced the bending of those trees, but to show that natural strength is above all art. Sinnis had a daughter remarkable for her beauty and stature, named Perigune, who had concealed herself when her father was killed. Theseus made diligent search for her, and found, at last, that she had re- tired into a place overgrown with shrubs, and rushes, and wild asparagus. In her childish sim- plicity she addressed her prayers and vows to these plants and bushes, as if they could have a sense of her misfortune, promising, if they would save and hide her, that she would never burn or destroy them. But when Theseus pledged his honor for treating her politely, she came to him, and in due time brought him a son named Mela- nippus. Afterward by Theseus's permission, she married Deioneus, the son of Eurytus the CEcha- lian. Melanippus had a son named loxus, who joined with Ornytus in planting a colony in Ca- ria; whence the loxides, with whom it is an in- violable rule, not to burn either rushes or wild asparagus, but to honor and worship them. About this time Crommyon was infested by a wild sow named Phsea,,a fierce and formidable crea- ture. This savage he attacked and killed,t going out of his way to engage her, and thereby show- ing an act of voluntary valor: for he believed it equally became a brave man to stand upon his de- fense against abandoned ruffians, and to seek out, and begin the combat with strong and savage ani- mals. But some say, that Phseil was an abandon- ed female robber, who dwelt in Crommyon, that she had the name of Sow from her life and man- ners; and was afterward slain by Theseus. Ou the borders of Megara he destroyed Sciron, a robber, by casting him headlong from a preci- pice, as the story generally goes: and it is added, that, in wanton villany, this Sciron used to make strangers wash his feet, and to take those oppor- tunities to push them into the sea. But the writers of Megara in contradiction to this report, and, as Simonides expresses it, fighting with all antiquity, assert, that Sciron was neither a robber nor a ruf- fian, but, on the contrary, a destroyer of robbers, and a man whose heart and house were ever open to the good and the honest. For jEacus, say they, was looked upon as the justest man in Greece, Cychreus of Salamis had divine honors paid him at Athens, and the virtue of Peleus and Telernon too was universally known. Now Sciron was son-in-law to Cychreus, father-in-law to JEacus, and grandfather to Peleus and Tele- mon, who were both of them sons of Endeis, the daughter of Sciron and Chariclo: therefore it was not probable that the best of men should make such alliances with one of so vile a character, giving and receiving the greatest and dearest pledges. Beside, they tell us, that Theseus did not slay Sciron in his first journey to Athens, but afterward, when he took Eleusis from the Mega- rensians, having expelled Diocles, its chief magis- trate, by a stratagem. In such contradictions are these things involved. * Sinnis was so called from his bending the heads of two pines, and tying passengers between the opposite branches, which, by their sudden return, tore them to pieces. t In this instance our hero deviated from the principle he set out upon, which was never to be the aggressor in any engagement. The wild sow was certainly no less respect- able an animal than the pine-bender. At Eleusis he engaged in wrestling with Cer- cyon the Arcadian, and killed him on the spot. Proceeding to Hermione,* he put a period to the cruelties of Damastes, surnamed Procrustes, mak- ing his body fit the size of his own beds, as he had served strangers. These things he did in imi- tation of Hercules, who always returned upon the aggressors the same sort of treatment which they intended for him; for that hero sacrificed Busiris, killed Anta3us in wrestling, Cygnus in single combat, and broke the skull of Termerus; whence this is called the Termerian mischief; for Termerus, it seems, destroyed the passengers he met, by dashing his head against theirs. Thus Theseus pursued his travels to punish abandoned wretches, who suffered the same kind of death from him that they inflicted on others, and were requited with vengeance suitable to their crimes. In his progress, he came to Cephisus, where he was first saluted by some of the Phytalidoe.f Upon his desire to have the customary purifica- tions, they gave him them in due form, and hav- ing offered propitiatory sacrifices, invited him to their houses. This was the first hospitable treat- ment he met with on the road He is said to have arrived at Athens on the eighth day of the month Cronius, which now they call Hecatom- bo3on [July]. There he found the state full of troubles and distraction, and the family of .^Egeus in great disorder: for Medea, who had fled from Corinth, promised by her art to enable ^Egeus to have children, and was admitted to his bed. She first discovering Theseus, whom as yet JEgeus did not know, persuaded him, now in years, and full of jealousies and suspicions, on account of the faction that prevailed in the city, to prepare an entertainment for him as a stranger, and take him off by poison. Theseus, coming to the ban- quet, did not intend to declare himself at first, but, willing to give his father occasion to find him out, when the meat was served up, he drew hia sword,J as if he designed to carve with it, and took care it should attract his notice. JEgeua quickly perceiving it, dashed down the cup of poison, and after some questions, embraced him as his son: then assembling the people, he ac- knowledged him also before them, who received him with great satisfaction on account of his va- lor. The cup is said to have fallen, and the poi- son to have been spilled, where the inclosure now is, and the place called Delphinium; for there it was that J&gens dwelt; and the Mercury which stands on the east side of the temple, is yet called the Mercury of ^Egeus's gate. The Pallantidse, who hoped to recover the kingdom if JEgeus died childless, lost all patience when Theseus was declared his successor. Ex- asperated at the thought that ^Egeus, who was not in the least allied to the Erecthidse, but only * This seems to be a mistake; for we know of no place called Harmione, or Hermione, between Eleusis and Athens. Pausanias calls it Erione; and the authors of the Universal History, after Philochorus, call it Ter- mione. t These were the descendants of Phytalus, with whom Ceres intrusted tlie superintendence of her holy mysteries, in recompense for the hospitality with which she had been treated al his hoiv-c. Theseus thought himself unfit to be admitted to those mysteries without expiation, because he had dipped his hands in blood,though it was only that of thieves ::nd robbers. tSome needless learning has been adduced to show, that in the heroic times they carved with a cutlass or large knife, and not with a sword; and that consequently Plu- tarch here must certainly be mistaken; but as u.*%*tpat signifies either a cutlass or a sword, how do we know that it was a sword, and not a cutlass, which ^Egeus hid under a stone? 24 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. adopted by Pandion,* should first gain the crown, and afterward Theseus, who was an emigrant and a stranger, they prepared for war; and, dividing their forces, one party inarched openly, with their father, from Sphettus to the city; and the other, concealing themselves in Gargettus, lay in am- bush, with a design to attack the enemy from two several quarters. They had with them an herald named Leos, of the tribe of Agnus. This man carried to Theseus an account of all the designs of the Pallantidse; and he immediately fell upon those that lay in ambush, and destroyed them. Pallas and his company being informed of this, thought fit to disperse. Hence it is said to be, that the tribe of Pallene never intermarry with the Agnusians, nor suffer any proclamation to begin with these words, Akouete Leos (Hear, O ye people!), for they hate the very name of Leos, on account of the treachery of that herald. Theseus, desirous to keep himself in action, and at the same time courting the favor of the people, went against the Marathonian bull, which did no small mischief to the inhabitants of Tetra- polis. When he had taken him, he brought him alive in triumph through the city, and afterward sacrificed him to the Delphinian Apollo. Hecale also, and the story of her receiving and entertain- ing Theseus, does not appear destitute of all foundation; for the people in that neighborhood assemble to perform the Hecalesian rites to Jupi- ter Hecalus: they honor Hecale too, calling her by the diminutive Hecalene, because when she enter- tained Theseus, while he was but a youth, she ca- ressed him as persons in years used to do children, and called him by such tender diminutive names. She vowed, moreover, when he went to battle, to offer sacrifices to Jupiter, if he returned safe; but as she died before the end of the expedition, The- seus performed those holy rites in testimony of the grateful sense he had of her hospitality. So Phi- lochorus relates the story.f . Not long after, there came the third time, from Crete, the collectors of the tribute, exacted on the following occasion. AndrogeusJ being treacher- ously slain in Attica, a very fatal war was carried on against that country by Minos, and divine vengeance laid it waste; for it was visited by fa- mine and pestilence, and want of water increased their misery. The remedy that Apollo proposed was, that they should appease Minos, and be re- conciled to him; whereupon the wrath of heaven would cease, and their calamities come to a period. In consequence of this, they sent ambassadors with their submission; and, as most writers agree, engaged themselves by treaty, to send every ninth year a tribute of seven young men and as many virgins. When these were brought into Crete, the fabulous account informs us, that they were de- stroyed by the Minotaur in the Labyrinth, or that, lost in its mazes, and unable to find the way out, they perished there. The Minotaur was, as Euripides tells us, * It had been actually reported, that iEgeus was not the on of Pandion, but of Scyrias. tPhilochorus was an Athenian historian, who flourished in the reign of Ptolemy Philopater, about two hundred years before the birth of our Saviour. He wrote many valuable pieces, of which nothing remains, but some frag- ments preserved by other writers. t Some say JEgens caused him to be murdered, because he was in the interest of the Pallantidse; others, that he was killed by the Marathonian bull. 5 Feigned by the poets to have been begot by a bull opon Pasiphae, Minos's queen, who was inspired, it seems, with this horrid passion by Neptune, in revenge for Minos's refusing him a beautiful bull, which he expected as an offering. A mingled form, prodigious to behold, Half bull, half man! But Philochorus says the Cretans deny this, and will not allow the labyrinth to have been anything but a prison, which had no other inconvenience than this, that those who were confined (here could not escape. And Minos having instituted games in honor of Androgeus, the prize for the victors was those youths, who had been kept until that time in the labyrinth. He that first won the prizes in those games, was a person of great au- thority in the court of Minos, and general of hiii armies, named, Taurus, who, being unmerciful and savage in his nature, had treated the Atheni- an youths with great insolence and cruelty. And it is plain that Aristotle himself, in his account of the Bottiojan Government, does not suppose that the young men were put to death by Minos, but that they lived, some of them lo old age, in servile employments in Crete. He adds, that the Cretans, in pursuance of an ancient vow, once sent a number of their first-born to Delphi, among whom were some of the descendants of these Athenian slaves, who, not being able to support themselves there, first passed from thence into Italy, where they settled about Japygia; and from thence they removed again into Thrace, and were called Bottioeans. Wherefore the Botlioeun vir- gins, in some solemnities of religion, sing, "To Athens let us go." And, indeed, it seems danger- ous to be at enmity with a city which is the seat of eloquence and learning: for Minos was always satirized on the Athenian stage; nor was his fame sufficiently rescued by Hesiod's calling him "Su- preme of Kings," or Homer's saying that he "conversed with Jove;" for the writers of trage- dy prevailing, represented him as a man of vicious character,* violent, and implacable; yet, incon- sistently enough, they say that Minos was a king and a lawgiver, and that Rhadamanthus was an upright judge, and guardian of the laws which Minos had made. When the time of the third tribute came, and those parents who had sons not arrived at full ma- turity, were obliged to resign them to the lot, complaints against ^Egeus sprung up again among the people, who expressed their grief and resent- ment, that he, who was the cause of all their misfortunes, bore no part of the punishment, and while he was adopting and raising to the succes- sion, a stranger of spurious birth, took no thought for them who lost their legitimate children. Those things were matter of great concern to Theseus, who, to express his regard for justice, and take his share in the. common fortune, volun- tarily offered himself as one of the seven, without lot. The citizens were charmed with this proof of his magnanimity and public spirit; and ^Egeus hiinself, when he saw that no entreaties or per- suasions availed to turn him from it, gave out the lots for the rest of the young men. But Hellani- cus says, that the youths and virgins whic.li the city furnished were not chosen by lot, but that Minos came in person and selected them, and Theseus before the rest, upon these conditions: That the Athenians should furnish a vessel, and the young men embark and sail along with him, but carry no arms; and that if they could kill tha Minotaur, there should be an end of the tribute. There appearing no hopes of safety for the youths in the two former tributes, they sent out a ship * This is a mistake, into which Plutarch and several other writers have fallen. There were two of the name of Minos. One was the son of Jupiter and Europa, and a just and excellent prince; the other, his grandson, and son of Lycaster, wus a tyrant. THESEUS. 25 with a black sail, as carrying them to certain ruiri. But when Theseus encouraged his father by his confidence of success against the Minotaur he gave another sail, a white one, to the pilot, ordering him, if he brought Theseus safe back, to hoist the white; but if not to sail with the black one in token of his misfortune. Simonides, j however, tells us, that it was not a white sail ! which ./Egeus gave, but a scarlet one, dyed with the juice of the flower of a very flourishing holm- oak,* and that this was to be the signal that all was well. He adds, that Phereclus the son of Amar- syas, was pilot of the ship: but Philochorus says, that Theseus had a pilot sent him by Sciras, from Salamis, named Nausitheus, and one Phreax to be at the prow, because as yet the Athenians had not applied themselves to navigation;! and that Sciras did this, because one of the young men, named Menesthes, was his daughter's son. This is con- firmed by the monuments of Nausitheus and Phseax, built by Theseus, at Phalerum, near the Temple of Sciron; and the feast called Cyberne- sia, or the Pilot's Feast, is said to be kept in honor of them. When the lots were cast, Theseus taking with him, out of the Prytaneum, those upon whom they fell, went to the Delphinian temple and made an offering to Apollo for them. This offering was a branch of consecrated olive, bound about with white wool. Having paid his devotions he embarked on the sixth of April; at which time they still send the virgins to Delphinium to pro- pitiate the god. It is reported that the oracle at Delphi commanded him to take Venus for his guide, and entreat her to be his companion in the voyage ; and while he sacrified to her a she-goat on the sea shore, its sex was immediately changed; hence the goddess had the name of Epitragia. When he arrived in Crete, according to most historians and poets, Ariadne, falling in love with him, gave him a clue of thread, and instructed him how to pass with it through the intricacies of the labyrinth. Thus assisted, he killed the Minotaur, and then set sail, carrying off Ariadne, together with the young men. Pherecydes says, that Theseus broke up the keels of the Cretan ships, to prevent their pursuit. But, as Demon has it, he killed Taurus, Minos's commander, who engaged him in the harbor, just as he was ready to sail out. Again, according to Philocho- rus, when Minos celebrated the games in honor of his son, it was believed that Taurus would bear away the prizes in them as formerly, and every one grudged him that honor ; for his excessive power and haughty behavior were intolerable; and beside, he was accused of too great a familiarity with Fasiphae : therefore, when Theseus desired the combat, Minos permitted it. In Crete it was the custom for the women as well as the men to see the games; and Ariadne, being present, was struck with the person of Theseus, and with his superior vigor and address in the wrestling-ring. ; Minos too was greatly delighted, especially when' he saw Taurus vanquished and disgraced ; and this induced him to give up the young men to Theseus, and to remit the tribute. Clidernus be- j ginning higher, gives a prolix account of these matters, according to his manner. There was, it see'ms, a decree throughout all Greece, that no * It is not >,he flower, but the fruit of the Ilex, full of little worms, which the Arabians call kerrnes, from which | a scarlet dye is procured. t The Athenians, according to Homer, sent fifty ships to ' Troy ; but those were only transport ships. Thucydides assures us, that they did not begin to make any figure at j sea until ten or twelve years after the battle of Marathon, i ear seven hundred years after the siege of Troy. vessel should sail with more than five hands, ex- cept the Argo, commanded by Jason, who was appointed to clear the sea of pirates. But when Daadalus escaped by sea to Athens, Minos pursu- ing him with his men of war, contrary to ths decree, was driven by a storm to Sicily, and there ended his life. And when Deucalion his succes- sor, pursuing his father's quarrels with the Athe- nians, demanded that they should deliver up Daedalus, and threatened, if they did not, to make away with the hostages that Minos had received, Theseus gave him a mild answer, alleging that Daedalus, was his relation, nearly allied in blood, being son to Merope the daughter of Erectheus. But privately he prepared a fleet, part of it among the Thymoatadffi, at a distance from any public road, and part under the direction of Pittheus, at Trrezene. When it was ready, he set sail, taking Duedalus and the rest of the fugitives from Crete for his guide. The Cretans receiving no informa- tion of the matter, and, when they saw his fleet, taking them for friends he easily gained the har- bor, and making a descent, proceeded immedi- ately to Gnossus. There he engaged with Deu- calion and his guards, before the gates of the labyrinth, and slew them. The government, by this means, falling to Ariadne, he entered into an agreement with her, by which he received the young captives, and made a perpetual league be- tween the Athenians and the Cretans, both sides swearing to proceed to hostilities no more. There are many other reports about these things, and as many concerning Ariadne, but none of any certainty. For some say, that being deserted by Theseus, she hanged herself; others, that she was carried by the mariners to Naxos, and there married Onarus the priest of Bacchus, Theseus having left her for another mistress: For JEgle's charms had pierced the hero's heart. Whereas the Megarensian tells us, that Pisistratus struck the line out of Hesiod; as on the contrary, to gratify the Athenians, he added this other to Homer's description of the state of the dead: The godlike Theseus and the great Pirithous. Some say Ariadne had two sons by Theseus, (Enopian and Staphylus. With these agrees Ion of Chios, who says of his native city, that it was built by CEnopion the son of Theseus. But the most striking passages of the poets, relative to these things, are in every body's mouth. Something more particular is delivered by Peeon the Amathusian. He relates, that Theseus, being driven by a storm to Cyprus, and having with him Ariadne, who was big with child, and ex- tremely discomposed with the agitation of the sea, he set her on shore, and left her alone, while he returned to take care of the ship; but by a violent wind was forced out again to sea; that the women of the country received Ariadne kindly, consoled her under her loss, and brought her feigned letters as from Theseus : that they attended and assisted her, when she fell in labor; and, as she died in childbed, paid her the funeral honors: that Theseus, on his return, greatly afflicted at the news, left money with the inhabit- ants, ordering them to pay divine honors to Ariadne; and that he caused two little statues of her to be made, one of silver, and the other of brass : that they celebrate her festival on the second of September, when a young man lies down, and imitates the cries and gesture of a woman in travail; and that the Amathusians call the grove in which they show her tomb, the Grove of Venus Ariadne. 26 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Some of the Naxian writers relate, that there were two Minos, and two Ariadnes ; one of whom was married to Bacchus in Naxos, and had a son named Staphylus; the other, of a later age, being carried off by Theseus, and afterward de- serted, came to Naxos, with her nurse Corcyne, whose tomb is still shown. That this Ariadne died there, and had different honors paid her from the former; for the feasts of one were celebrated with mirth and revels, while the sacrifices of the other were mixed with sorrow and mourn- ing.* Theseus, in his return from Crete, put in at Delos;t and having sacrificed to Apollo, and dedicated a statue of Venus, which he received from Ariadne, he joined with the young men in a dance, which the Delians are said to practice at this day. It consists in an imitation of the mazes and outlets of the labyrinth, and, with various involutions and evolutions, is performed in regu- lar time. This kind of dance, as Dicaearchus in- forms us, is called by the Delians the Crane.J He danced it round the altar Keraton, which was built entirely of the left-side horns of beasts. He is also said to have instituted games in Delos, where he began the custom of giving a palm to the vic- tors. When they drew near to Attica, both Theseus and the pilot were so transported with joy, that they forgot to hoist the sail which was to be the signal to ./Egeus of their safety, who, therefore, in despair, threw himself from the rock, and was dashed to pieces. Theseus disembarked, and per- formed those sacrifices to the gods, which he had vowed at Phalerum, when he set sail, and sent a herald to the city, with an account of his safe return. The messenger met with numbers la- menting the fate of the king, and others rejoicing, as it was natural to expect, at the return of The- seus, welcoming him with the greatest kindness, and ready to crown him with flowers for his good news. He received the chaplets, and twined them round his herald's staff. Returning to the seashore, and finding that Theseus had not yet finished his libations, he stopped without, not choosing to disturb the sacrifice. When the liba- tions were over, he announced the death of JEgeus. Upon this, they hastened, with sorrow, and tumultuous lamentations, to the city. Hence, they tell us, it is, that, in the Oschophoria, or Feast of Boughs, to this day the herald is not crowned, but his staff; and those that are present at the libations cry out, Elelu! Jou,jou! The former is the exclamation of haste and triumph, and the latter of trouble and confusion. Theseus, having buried his father, paid his vows to Apollo on the seventh of October; for on that day they arrived safe at Athens. The boiling of all sorts of pulse at that time is said to take its rise from their mixing the remains of their provisions, when they found themselves safe ashore, boiling them in one pot, and feasting upon them all together. In that feast they also carry a branch bound about with wool, such as they then made use of in their supplications, which they call Eiresione, laden with all sorts of fruits; and to signify the ceasing of scarcity at that time, they sing this strain: The Feasts of Ariadne, the wife of Bacchus, were cele- ttated with joy, to denote that she was become a divinity Uiose of die other Ariadne signify that she fell like a mere' mortal. t Hence came the custom of sending annually a deputa tion from Athens to Delos, to sacrifice to Apollo. t This dance, Callimachus tell ns, was a particular one and probably it was called the Crane, because cranes com monly fly in the figure of a circle. } Klaleu denotes the joy and precipitation with which The golden ear, tli' ambrosial hnr In fair Eiresione thrive. See the juicy figs appear! Olives crown the wealthy year! See the cluster-bending vine! See, and drink, and drop supine! Some pretend that this ceremony is retained in memory of the Heraclidse,* who were entertained n that manner by the Athenians; but the greater part relate it as above delivered. The vessel in which Theseus sailed, and return- d safe, with those young men, went with thirty oars. It was preserved by the Athenians to the times of Demetrius Plialereus;f being so pieced and new framed with strong plank, that it afford- ed an example to the philosophers, in their dispu- tations concerning the identity of things that are hanged by growth; some contending that it was the same, and others that it was not. The feast called Oschophoria,+ which the Athe- nians still celebrate, was then first instituted by Theseus. For he did not take with him all the virgins upon whom the lot had fallen, but select- ed two young men of his acquaintance who had feminine and florid aspects, but were not wanting in spirit and presence of mind. These by warm bathing, and keeping them out of the sun, by providing unguents for their hair and complexions, and everything necessary for their dress, by forming their voice, their manner, and their step, he so effectually altered, that they passed among the virgins designed for Crete, and no one could dis- cern the difference. At his return he walked in procession with the same young men, dressed in the manner of those who now carry the branches. These are carried in honor of Bacchus and Ariadne, on account of the story before related; or rather because they returned at the time of gathering ripe fruits. The Deipnophorse, women who carry the provisions, bear a part in the solemnity, and have a share in the sacrifice, to represent the mothers of those upon whom the lots fell, who brought their chil- dren provisions for the voyage. Fables and tales are the chief discourse, because the women then told their children stories to comfort them and keep up their spirits. These particulars are taken from the History of Demon. There was a place consecrated, and a temple erected to Theseus: and those families which would have been liable to the tribute, in case it had continued, were obliged to pay a tax to the temple for sacrifices. These were committed to the care of the Phytalidse. Theseus doing them that honor in recompense of their hospitality. Theseus marched toward Athens; and Jou, jov, his sorrow for the death of his father. * The descendants of Hercules, being driven out of Pelo- ponnesus and all Greece, applied to the Athenians for their protection, which was granted: and as they went as suppli- cants, they went with branches in their hands. This sub ject is treated by Euripides in his Heraclidee. t That is, near 1000 years. For Theseus returned from Crete about the year before Christ 1235, and Callimachus, who was cotemporary with Demetrius, and who tells ns the Athenians continued to send this ship to Delos in his time, flourished about the year before Christ 280. t This ceremony was performed in the following manner: They made choice of a certain number of youths of the most noble families in each tribe, whose fathers and mothers both were living. They bore vine branches in their hands, with grapes upon them, and ran from the temple of Bacchus to that of Minerva gciradia, which svas near the Phalerian gate. He thai arrived there first drank off a cup of wine, mingled with honey, cheese, meal, and oil. They were fol- lowed by a chorus conducted by two young men, "dressed in women's apparel, the chorus singing a song in praise of those young men. Certain women, with baskets on their heads, attended them, and were chosen for that office from among the most wealthy of the citizens. The whole pro- cession was headed by a herald, bearing a staff encircled with boughs. TH ESEUS. After the death of ^Egeus, he undertook and effected a prodigious work. He settled all the inhabitants of Attica in Athens, and made them 0ne people in one city, who before were scattered up and down, and could with difficulty be as- sembled on any pressing occasion for the public pood. Nay, often such differences had happened between them, as ended in bloodshed. The me- thod he took was to apply to them, in particular by their tribes and families. Private persons and the poor easily listened to his summons. To the rich and great he represented the advantage of a government without a king, where the chief power should be in the people, while he himself only desired to command in war, and to be the guardian of the laws; in all the rest, every one would be upon an equal footing. Part of them hearkened to his persuasions; and others fearing his power, which was already very great, as well as his enterprising spirit, chose rather to be per- suaded, than to be forced to submit. Dissolving, therefore, the corporations, the councils, and courts in each particular town, he built one common Prytaneum and court-hall, where it stands to this day. The citadel, with its dependencies, and the city, or the old and new town, he united under the common name of Athens, and instituted the Panathenaea as a common sacrifice.* He appoint- ed also the Metrecia, or Feast of Migration,-}- an fixed it to the sixteenth of July, and so it still continues. Giving up the kingly power, as he had promised, he settled the commonwealth under the auspices of the gods; for he consulted the Oracle at Delphi concerning his new govern- ment, and received this answer: From Royal stems thy honor, Theseus, springs; By Jove beloved, the sire supreme of kings. See rising towns, see wide extended states, On thee dependent, ask their future fates! Hence, hence with fear! Thy favor'd bark shall ride Safe o'er the surges of the foamy tide.t With this agrees the Sibyl's prophesy, which, are are told, she delivered long after, concerning \thens: The bladder may be dipp'd, bnt never drown'd. Desiring yet farther to enlarge the city, he in- rited all strangers to equal privileges in it: and the words still in use, "Come hither, all ye peo- ple," are said to be the beginning of a proclama- tion, which Theseus ordered to be made when he composed the commonwealth, as it were, of all nations. Yet he left it not in the confusion and disorder likely to ensue from the confluence and * The Athencea were celebrated before, in honor of the goddess Minerva, but as that was a feast peculiar to the city of Athens, Theseus enlarged it, and made it common to all the inhabitants of Attica; and therefore it was called Pana- thena>a. There were the greater and the less Panathena:a. The less were kept annually and the greater every fifth year. In the latter they carried in procession the mysterious pe- plum or vail of Minerva, on which were embroidered the victory of the gods over the giants, and the most remarkable achievements of their heroes. t In memory of their quitting the boroughs, and uniting it in one city. On this occasion he likewise instituted, or at least re- stored, the famous Isthmian games, in honor of Neptune. All these were chiefly deigned to draw a concourse of strangers; and as a farther encouragement for them to come and settle in Athens, he gave them the privileges of natives. t In the original it is, 4i Safe, like a bladder, &c." When Sylla hail taken Athens, and exercised all manner of cruel- ties there, some Athenians went to Delphi, to inquire of the oracle, whether the last hour of their city was come? and the piieste->s, according to Pausanias, made answer, T* c TGV oix^cv t^cvra., Thatichich belongs to the bladder now has in end; plainly referring to the old prophesy here de.ivered strange mixture of people; but distinguished them into noblemen, husbandmen, and mechanics. The nobility were to have the care of religion, to sup- ply the city with magistrates, to explain the laws, and to interpret whatever related to the worship of the gods. As to the rest, he balanced the citi- zens against each other as nearly as possible; the nobles excelling in dignity, the husbandmen in usefulness, and the artificers in number. It ap- pears from Aristotle, that Theseus was the first who inclined to a democracy, and gave up the regal power; and Homer also seems to bear wit- ness to the same in his catalogue of ships, where he gives the name of People to the Athenians only. To his money he gave the impression of an ox, either on account of the Marathonian bull, or because of Minos's general Taurus, or because he would encourage the citizens in agriculture. Hence came the expression of a thing being worth ten or an hundred oxen. Having also made a secure acquisition of the country about Megara to the territory of Athens, he set up the famed pillar in the Isthmus,* and inscribed it with two verses to distinguish the boundaries. That on the east side ran thus: This is not Peloponnesus, but Ionia: and that on the west, was This is Peloponnesus, not Ionia. He likewise instituted games in imitation of Hercules, being ambitious, that as the Greeks, in pursuance of that hero's appointment, celebrated the Olympic games in honor of Jupiter, so they should celebrate the Isthmian in honor of Nep- tune: for the rites performed there before, in memory of Melicertes, were observed in the night, and had more the air of mysteries, than of a pub- lic spectacle and assembly. But some say the Isthmian games were dedicated to Sciron, Theseus inclining to expiate his untimely fate, by reason of their being so nearly related; for Sciron was the son of Canethus and Henioche, the daughter of Pittheus. Others will have it, that Sinnis was their son, and that to him, and not to Sciron, the games were dedicated. He made an agreement too with the Corinthians, that they should give the place of honor to the Athenians who came to the Isthmian games, as far as the ground could be covered with the sail of the public ship that brought them, when stretched to its full extent. This particular we learn from Hellanicus and Andron of Halicarnassus. Philochorus and some others relate, that he sailed in company with Hercules, into the Euxine sea, to carry on war with the Amazons, f and that he received Antiope * as the reward of his valor: but the greater number, among whom are Phe- recydes, Hellanicus, and Herodorus, tell us, that Theseus made that voyage, with his own fleet only, sometime after Hercules, and took that Amazon captive, which is indeed the more pro- bable account; for we do not read that any othei * This pillar was erected by the common consent of the lonians and Peloponnesians, to put an end to the disputes about their boundaries; and it continued to the reign of Codrns, during which it was demolished by the Heraclids, who had made themselves masters of the territory of Me- gara, which thereby passed from the lonians' to the Do- rians. Strabo, lib. ix. t Nothing can be more fabulous than the whole history of the Amazons. Strabo observes, that the most credible ot Alexander's historians have not so much as mentione*. them; and indeed, if they were a Scythian nation, how came they all to have Greek names? J Justin says, Hercules gave Hippolyte to Thesens, and kept Antiope for himself. PLUTARCH'S LIVES. of his fellow warriors made any Amazon prisoner. But Bion says, he took and carried her off by a stratagem. The Amazons, being naturally lovers of men, were so far from avoiding Theseus, when he touched upon their coasts, that they sent him presents. Theseus invited Antiope, who brought them into his ship, and as soon as she was aboard, set sail. But the account of one Menecrates, who published a history of Nice, in Bithynia, is, that Theseus, having Antiope aboard his vessel, re- mained in those parts sometime; and that he was attended in that expedition by three young men of Athens, who were brothers, Euneos, Thoas, and Soloon. The last of these, unknown to the rest, fell in love with Antiope, and communicated his passion to one of his companions, who applied to Autiope about the affair. She firmly rejected his pretensions, but treated him with civility, and prudently concealed the matter from Theseus. But Soloon, in despair, leaped into a river and drowned himself: Theseus, then sensible of the cause, and the young man's passion, lamented his fate, and, in his sorrow, recollected an oracle which he had formerly received at Delphi. The priestess had ordered, that when, in some foreign country, he should labor under the greatest afflic- tion, he should build a city there, and leave some of his followers to govern it. Hence he called the city which he built Pythopolis, after the Pythian God, and the neighboring river Soloon, in honor of the young man. He left the two surviving brothers to govern it, and give it laws; and along with them Hermus, who was of one of the best families in Athens. From him the inhabitants of Pythopolis call a certain place in their city Hermes's House, [Herman oikia}, and by misplacing an accent, transfer the honor from the hero to the God Mercury. Hence the war with the Amazons took its rise. A'nd it appears to have been no slight womanish enterprise; for they could not have encamped in the town, or joined battle on the ground about the Pnyx* and the Museum,f or fallen in so in- trepid a manner upon the city of Athens, unless they had first reduced the country about it. It is difficult, indeed, to believe (though Hellanicus has related it) that they crossed the Cimmerian Bos- phorus upon the ice; but that they encamped al- most in the heart of the city is confirmed by the names of places, and by the tombs of those that fell. There was a long pause and delay before either army would begin the attack. At last, Theseus, by the direction of some oracle, offered a sacrifice to Fear,$ and after that immediately engaged. The battle was fought in the month Boedromion [September], the day on which the Athenians still celebrate the feast called Boedromia. Clide- mus, who is willing to be very particular, writes, that the left wing of the Amazons moved toward what is now called the Amazonium; and that the right extended as far as the Pnyx, near Chrysa: that the Athenians first engaged with the left wing of the Amazons, falling upon them from the Museum; and that the tombs of those that fell in the battle are in the street which leads to the gate called Piraica, which is by the monument erected * The Pnyx was a place (near the citadel) where the peo- ple of Athens used to assemhle, and where the orators spoke to them about public affairs. fThe Museum was upon a little hill over against the citadel, and probably so called from a temple of the Muses there. t The heathens considered not only the passions, but ven distempers, storms, and tempests, as divinities, and worshiped them, that they might do them no harm. in honor of Chalcodon, where the Athenians were routed by the Amazons, and fled as far as the temple of the Furies: but that the left wing of the Athenians, which charged from the Palladi- um, Ardettus, and Lyceum, drove the right wing of the enemy to their camp, and slew many of them: that after four months a peace was con- cluded by means of Hippolyte; for so this author calls the Amazon that attended with Theseus, not Antiope. But some say this heroine fell fighting by Theseus's side, being pierced with a dart by Molpadia, and that a pillar, by the Tem- ple of the Olympian earth,* was set up over her grave. Nor is it to be wondered, that in the ac- count of things so very ancient, history should be thus uncertain, since they tell us that some Amazons, wounded by Antiope, were privately sent to Chalcis to be cured, and that some were buried there, at a place now called Amazonium. But that the war was ended by a league, we may assuredly gather from a place called Horcomosium, near the temple of Theseus, where it was sworn to, as well as from an ancient sacrifice, which is offered to the Amazons the day before the feast of Theseus. The people of Megara too show a place, in the figure of a lozenge, where some Amazons were buried as you go from the market- place to the place called Rhus. Others also are said to have died by Chseronea, and to have been buried by the rivulet, which, it seems, was formerly called Thermodon, but now Ha- mon; of which I have given a further account in the life of Demosthenes. It appears, likewise, that the Amazons traversed Thessaly, not without opposition; for their sepulchers are shown to thia day, between Scotussrea and Cynoscephalse. This is all that is memorable in the story of the Amazons; for as to what the author of the The- seis relates of the Amazons rising to take ven- geance for Antiope, when Theseus quitted her, and married Phaedra, and of their being slain by Hercules, it has plainly the air of fable. Indeed he married Phaadra after the death of Autiope, having had by the Amazon a son named Hippo- lytus,t or according to Pindar, Demophoon. As to the calamities which befell Phaedra and Hippo- lytus, since the historians do not differ from what the writers of tragedy have said of them, we may look upon them as matters of fact. Some other marriages of Theseus are spoken of, but have not been represented on the stage, which had neither an honorable beginning, nor a happy conclusion. He is also said to have forcibly * By this is meant the moon, so called (as Plutarch sup- poses in his Treatise on the Cessation of Oracles) because like the Genii or Demons, she is neither so perfect as the gods, nor so imperfect as humankind. But as some of the philosophers, we mean the Pythagoreans, had astronomy enough afterward to conclude that the sun is the center of this system, we presume it might occur to thinking men in the more early ages, that the moon was an opake, and, therefore, probably a terrene body. t Theseus had a son, by the Amazonian queen, named Hippolytns, having soon after married Phaulra, the sister of Deucalion, the son and successor of Minos, by whom he had two sons; he sent Hippolytus to be brought up by his own mother ^Ethra, queen of Trrezene: but he coming afterward to be present at some Athenian games, Pheedra fell in love with him, and having solicited him in vain to a compliance, in a fit of resentment, accused him to Theseus of having made an attempt upon her chastity. The fable says, that Theseus prayed to Neptune to punish him by some violent death; and all solemn execrations, ac- cording to the Yiotions of the heathens, certainly taking ef- fect, as Hippolytus was riding along the sea-shore, Neptune sent two sea calves, who frightened the horses, overturned the chariot, and tore him to pieces. The poets add, that the lustful queen hanged herself for grief; but as for Hip- polytus, Diana being taken with his chastity, and pitying the sad fate it brought upon him, prevailed upon ^sculapiui to restore him to liie. to be a companion of her diversion*. THESEUS. 29 i*nrried off Anaxo of Trcezene, and having slain Sinnis and Cercyon, to have committed rapes apon their daughters; to have married Peribrea, the mother of Ajax, too, and Pheroboaa, and lope the daughter of Iphicles. Beside, they charge him witii being enamored of ^Egle, the daughter of Panopeus (as above related), and for her, leav- ing Ariadue, contrary to the rules of both justice and honor; but above all, with the rape of Helen, which involved Attica in war, and ended in his banishment and death, of which we shall speak more at large by-aud-by. Though there were many expeditions under- taken by the heroes of those times, Herodorus thinks that Theseus was not concerned in any of them, except in assisting the Lapithae against the Centaurs. Others write, that he attended Jason to Colchos, and Meleager in killing the boar; and that hence came the proverb, " Nothing without Theseus." It is allowed, however, that Theseus, without any assistance, did himself perform many great exploits; and that the extraordinary in- stances of his valor gave occasion to the saying, , " This man is another Hercules." Theseus was likewise assisting to Adrastus in recovering the - bodies of those that fell before Thebes, not by de- feating the Thebans in battle, as Euripides has it in his tragedy, but by persuading them to a truce; for so most writers agree: and Philochorus is of opinion, that this was the first truce ever known for burying the dead. But Hercules was, indeed, the first who gave up their dead to the enemy, as we have shown in his life. The burying-place of the common soldiers is to be seen at Eleutherae, and of the officers at Eleusis; in which particular Theseus gratified Adrastus. ^Eschylus, in whose tragedy of the Eleusinians, Theseus is introduced relating the matter as above, contradicts what Eu- ripides has delivered in his Suppliants. The friendship between Theseus and Pirithous is said to have commenced on this occasion. Theseus being much celebrated for his strength and valor, Pirithous was desirous to prove it, and therefore drove away his oxen from Marathon. When he heard that Theseus pursued him in arms, he did not fly, but turned back to meet him. But, as soon as they beheld one another, each was so struck with admiration of the other's person and courage, that they laid aside all thoughts of fighting; and Pirithous first giving Theseus his hand, bade him be judge in this cause himself, and he would willingly abide by his sen- tence. Theseus, in his turn, left the cause to him, and desired him to bo his friend and fellow warrior. They then confirmed their friendship with an oath. Pirithous afterward marrying Dei- damia,* -entreated Theseus to visit his country, and to become acquainted with the Lapithae.t He had also invited the Centaurs to the entertain- ment. These, in their cups behaving with inso- lence and indecency, and not even refraining from the women, the Lapithae rose up in their de- fense, killed some of the Centaurs upon the spot, and soon after beating them in a set battle, drove them out of the country with the assistance of Theseus. Herodorus relates the matter diffe- rently. He says that, hostilities being already begun, Theseus came in aid to the Lapithra, and then had the first sight of Hercules, having made * All other writers call her Hippodamia, except Proper- tins, who calls her Ischomacha. She was the daughter of Adrastus. t Homer calls the Lapith heroes. The Centaurs are feigned to have been half man half horse, either from their brutality, or because (if not the inventors of horse- manship, vet) they generally appeared on horseback. it his business to find him out at Trachin, where he reposed himself after all his wanderings and labors; and that this interview passed in markt of great respect, civility, and mutual compli- ments. But we are rather to follow those histo- rians who write, that they had very frequent interviews; and that by means of Theseus, Her- cules was initiated into the mysteries of Ceres, having first obtained lustration, as he desired, on account of several involuntary pollutions. Theseus was now fifty years old, according to Hellanicus, when he was concerned in the rape of Helen,* who had not yet arrived at years of maturity. Some writers thinking this one of the heaviest charges against him, endeavored to cor- rect it, by saying it was not Theseus that carried off Helen, but Idas and Lynceus, who committed her to his care, and that therefore he refused to give her up, when demanded by Castor and Pol- lux; or rather that she was delivered to him by Tyndarus himself, to keep her from Enarsphorus, the son of Hippocoon, who endeavored to possess himself by violence of Helen, who was yet but a child. But what authors generally agree in as most probable is as follows: The two friends went together to Sparta, and having seen the girl danc- ing in the temple of Diana Orthia, carried her off, and fled. The pursuers that were sent after them following no farther than Tegea, they thought themselves secure, and having traversed Pelopon- nesus, they entered into an agreement, that he who should gain Helen by lot should have her to wife, but be obliged to assist in procuring a wife for the other. In consequence of these terms, the lots being cast, she fell to Theseus, who re- ceived the virgin, and conveyed her, as she was not yet marriageable, to Aphidnae. Here he placed his mother with her, and committed them to the care of his friend Aphidnus, charging him to keep them in the utmost secrecy and safety; while, to pay his debt of service to Pirithous, he himself traveled with him into Epirus, with a view to the daughter of Aidoneus, king of the Molossians. This prince named his wife Proser- pine, f his daughter Core, and his dog Cerberus: with this dog he commanded all his daughters' suitors to fight, promising her to him that should overcome him. But understanding that Pirithous came not with an intention to court his daughter, but to carry her off by force, he seized both him and his friend, destroyed Pirithous im- mediately by means of his dog, and shut up The- seus in close prison. Meantime Menestheus,the son of Peteus, grand- son of Orneus, and great grandson of Erectheus, is said to be the first of mankind that undertook to be a demagogue, and by his eloquence to in- gratiate himself with the people. He endeavored also to exasperate and inspire the nobility with sedition, who had but ill borne with Theseus for some time; reflecting that he had deprived every person of family of his government and command, and shut them up together in one city, where he used them as his subjects and slaves. Among the common people he sowed disturbance by telling *This princess was the reputed daughter of Jupiter, by Leda, the wife of Tyndarus, king of (Ebalia, in Pelopon- nesus; and though then hut nine years old, was reckoned the greatest beauty in the world. t Proserpine and Core was the same person, daughter to Aidoneus, whose wife was named Ceres. Plutarch him- self tells us so in his Morals, where he adds, that by Pro- serpine is meant the Moon, whom Pluto, or the God of Darkness sometimes carries off. Indeed, Core signifiet nothing more, than young woman or daughter; and they might iay a daughter of Epirus, as we say a daughter qf France, or of Spain. 30 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. them, that though they pleased themselves with the dream of liberty, in fact they were robbed of their country and religion; and instead of many good and native kings, were lorded over by one man, who was a new comer and a stranger. While he was thus busily employed, the war declared by theTyndaridte greatly helped forward the sedition. Some say plainly, they were invited by Menes- thetis to" invade "the country. At first they pro- ceeded not in a hostile manner, only demanding their sister: but the Athenians answering, that they neither had her among them, nor knew where she was left, they began their warlike oper- ations. Academus, however, finding it out by some means or other, told them she was concealed at Aphidnce. Hence, not only the Tyndaridse treated him honorably in his lifetime, but the Lacedaemonians, who, in after times, often made inroads into Attica, ad laid waste all the country beside, spared the Academy for his sake. But Dicoiarchus says, that Echedemus and Marathus, two Arcadians, being allies to the TyndaridaB in that war, the place which now goes by the name of the Academy, was first called Echedemia, from one of them; and that from tiie other the district of Marathon had its name, because he freely offer- ed himself, in pursuance of some oracle, to be sacrificed at the head of the army. To Aphidna? then they came, where they beat the enemy in a set battle, and theii took the city, and razed it to the ground. There, they tell us, Alycus, the son of Sciron, was slain, fighting for Castor and Pol- lux; and that a certain place, within the territo- ries of Megara, is called Alycus, from his being buried there: and Hereas writes, that Alycus re- ceived his death from Theseus's own hand. These verses also are alleged as a proof in point: For bright-hair'd Helen he was slain By Theseus, on Aphidna's plain. But it is not probable that Aphidnae would have been taken and his mother made prisoner, had Theseus been present. Aphidnre, however, was taken, and Athens in danger. Menestheus took this opportunity to per- suade the people to admit the Tyndarida? into the city, and to treat them hospitably, since they only levied war against Theseus, who began with vio- lence first, but that they were benefactors and deliverers to the rest of the Athenians. Their be- havior also confirmed what was said ; for, though conquerors, they desired nothing but to be admit- ted to the mysteries, to which they had no less claim than Hercules,* since they were equally allied to the city. This request was easily granted them, and they were adopted by Aphidnus, as Hercules was by Pylius. They had also divine honors paid them, with the title of Anakes, which was given them, either on account of the truce [anoche] which they made, or because of their great care that no one should be injured, though there were so many troops in the city; for the phrase anakos echein signifies to keep or take care of anything; and for this reason, perhaps, kings are called Anaktes. Some again say, they were called Anakes, because of the appearance of their stars; for the Athenians use the words anekas and anekathen, instead of ano and anothen, that is, above, or on high. We are told that ^Ethra, the mother of Theseus, who was now a prisoner, was carried to Lacedce- For Castor and Pollux, like him, were sons of Jupiter, from whom the Athenians too pretended to derive their origin. It was necessary, however, that they should be naturalized before they were admitted to the mysteries, and accordingly they were naturalized by adoption. mon, and from thence, with Helen, to Troy; and that Homer confirms it when, speaking cf those that waited upon Helen, he mentions -The beauteous Clymene, And ^Ethra born of Pittheus. Others reject this verse as none of Homer's, aa they do also the story of Munychus, who is said to have been the fruit of a secret commerce be- tween Demophoon and Laodice, and brought up by ^Ethra at Troy. But Ister, in the thirteenth book of his history of Attica, gives an account of ^Ethra different from all the rest. He was inform- ed, it seems, that after the battle in which Alex- ander or Paris was routed by Achilles and Patro- clus, in Thessaly, near the river Sperchius, Hector took and plundered the city of TnEzene, and car- ried off yEthra, who had been left there. But this is highly improbable. It happened that Hercules, in passing through the country of the Molossians, was entertained by Aidoneus the king, who accidentally made men- tion of the bold attempts of Theseus and Piri- ihous, and of the manner in which he had pun- ished them when discovered. Hercules was much disturbed to hear of the inglorious death of the one, and the danger of the other. As to Pirithous, he thought it in vain to expostulate about him; but he begged to have Theseus released, and Aido- ueus granted it. Theseus, thus set at liberty, re- turned to Athens, where his party was not yet entirely suppressed: and whatever temples and groves the city had assigned him, he consecrated them all, but four, to Hercules, and called them, (as Philochorus relates) instead of Thesea, Hera- clea. But desiring to preside in the commonwealth, and direct it as before, he found himself encom- passed with faction and sedition; for those that were his enemies before his departure, had now added to their hatred a contempt of his authority; and he beheld the people so generally corrupted, that they wanted to be flattered into their duty, instead of silently executing his commands. When he attempted to reduce them by force, he was overpowered by the prevalence of faction; and, in the end, finding his affairs desperate, he pri- vately sent his children into Euboea, to Elephenor, the son of Chalcodon; and himself, having utter- ed solemn execrations against the Athenians at Gargettus, where there is still a place thence called Araterion, sailed to Scyros.* He imagined that there he should find hospitable treatment, as he had a paternal estate in that island. Lycomedes was then king of the Scyrians. To him, there- fore, he applied, and desired to be put in possession of his lands, as intending to settle there. Some say, he asked assistance of him against the Athe- nians. But Lycomedes, either jealous of the glory of Theseus, or willing to oblige Menestheus, hay- ing led him to the highest cliffs of the country, on pretense of showing him from thence his lands, threw him down headlong from the rocks, and killed him. Others say he fell off himself, missing his step, when he took a walk according to his custom, after supper. At that time his death was disregarded, and Menestheus quietly possessed the kingdom of Athens, while the sons of Theseus attended Elephenor, as private persons, to the Tro- jan war. But Menestheus dying in the same expedition, they returned and recovered the king- dom. In succeeding ages the Athenians honored * The ungrateful Athenians were in process of time made so sensible of the effects of his curse, that to appease his ghost, they appointed solemn sac: itiees and divine honors to be paid to him. ROMULUS. 31 Theseus as a demi-god, induced to it as well by other reasons, as because, when they were fight- ing the Medes at Marathon, a considerable part of the army thought they saw the apparition of Theseus completely armed and bearing down be- fore them upon the barbarians. After the Median war, when Pha?don was ar- chon,* the Athenians consulting the Oracle of Apollo were ordered by the priestess to take u-p the bones of Theseus, and lay them in an honor- able place at Athens, where they were to be kept with the greatest care. But it was difficult to take them up, or even to find out the grave, on account of the savage* and inhospitable disposi- tion of the barbarians who dwelt in Scyros. Nev- ertheless, Cimon having taken the island (as is related in his Life), and being very desirous to find out the place where Theseus was buried, by chance saw an eagle, on a certain eminence, breaking the ground (as they tell us) and scratching it up with her talons. This he considered as a divine direc- tion, and, digging there, found the coffin of a man of extraordinary size, with a lance of brass and a sword lying by it. When these remains were brought to Athens in Cimon's galley, the Atheni- ans received them with splendid processions and sacrifices, and were as much transported as if Theseus himself had returned to the city. He lies interred in the middle of the town, near the Gymnasium: and his oratory is a place of refuge for servants and all persons of mean condition, who fly from men in power, as Theseus, while he lived, was a humane and benevolent patron, who graciously received the petitions of the poor. The chief sacrifice is offered to him on the eighth of October, the day on which he returned with the young men from Crete. They sacrifice to him likewise on each eighth day of the other months, either because he first arrived from Troo- zene on the eighth of July, as Diodorus the geog- rapher relates; or else thinking this number, above all others, to be most proper to him, be- cause he was said to be the son of Neptune; the solemn feasts of Neptune being observed on the eighth day of every month. For the number eight, as the first cube of an even number, and the double of the first square, properly represents the firmness and immovable power of this god, who thence has the names of Asphalius andGaie- ochus. ROMULUS. FROM whom, and for what cause, the city of Rome obtained that name, whose glory has dif- fused itself over the world, historians are not agreed.f Some say the Pelasgi, after they had overrun great part of the globe, and conquered many nations, settled there, and gave their city the name of Rome,} on account of their strength in war. Others tell us, that when Troy was taken, some of the Trojans having escaped and gained their ships, put to sea, and being driven by the winds upon the coast of Tuscany, came to an * Codrus, the seventeenth king of Athens, cotemporary a-ith Saul, devoted himself to death for the sake of his country, in the year before Christ 1068; having learned that the Oracle had promised its enemies, the Dorians and the Herarlidie, victory, if they did not kill the king of the Athe- nians. His subjects, on this account, conceived such vene- ration for him, tnat they esteemed none worthy to bear the royal title after him, and therefore committed the manage- ment of the state to elective magistrates, to whom they gave the title of archons, and c:ho->e Medon, the eldest son of Codriij, to this new dignity. Thus ended the legal suc- cession and title of king of Athens, after it had continued without any interruption 487 years, from Cecrops to Codrus. The archon acted vvit.li sovereign authority, but was ac- countable to the people whenever it was required. There were thirteen perpetual archons in the space of 325 years. After fiie death of Alcmceon, who was the last of them, this charge was continued to the person elected for ten years Only; hut always in the same family, until the death of Eryxias, or, according to others, ol'Tlesias, the seventh and last decennial nrchon. For the family of Codrns or of the Medontidas, ending in him, the Athenians created annual archons, and, instead of one, they appointed nine every year. !?ee a farther account of the archons in the Notes oc the Life of Solon. tSuch is the uncertainty of the origin of imperial Rome, and indeed of most cities ami n;ition;>, that are ol any con- siderable antiquity. That of Rome might be the more un- certain, because its first inhabitants, being a collection of mean persons, fugitives, and outlaws, from other nations, lould not be suppo-ed to leave histories behind them. Livy, however, and most of the Latin Historians, agree that Rome was built by Romulus, and both the city and people named after him; while the vanity of the Greek writers wants to ascribe almost everything, and Rome among the rest, to a Brecon original. i, Rome, signifies strength. anchor in the river Tiber: that here their wives being much fatigued, and no longer able to bear the hardships of the sea, one of them, superior to the rest in birth and prudence, named Roma, pro- posed that they should burn the fleet: that this being effected, the men at first were much exas- perated, but afterward, through necessity, fixed their seat on the Palatine hill, and in a short time things succeeded beyond their expectation: for the country was good,* and the people hospitable: that therefore, beside other honors paid to Roma, they called their city, as she was the cause of its being built, after her name. Hence too, we are informed, the custom arose for the women to salute their relations and husbands with a kiss, because those women, when they had burned the ships, used such kind of endearments to appease the resentment of their husbands. Among the various accounts of historians, it is said that Roma was the daughter of Italus and Leucaria; or else the daughter of Telephus the sou of Hercules, and married to jEneas; or that she was the daughter of Ascanius,f the son of ^Eneas; and gave name to the city; or that Ro- manus, the sou of Ulysses and Circe, built it; or Rom us, the son of ^Einathion, whom Diomedes sent from Troy; or else Romus, kino; of the La- tins, after he had expelled the Tuscans, who pass- ed originally from Thessaly into Lydia, and from Lydia into Italy. Even they, who with the greatest probability, declare that the city had its name, from Romulus, do not agree about his ex* traction: for some say he was son of ;Eneas and * Whatever desirable things Nature has scattered frugally in other countries were formerly found in Italy, as in their original seminary. But there has been so little encourage- ment given to the cultivation of the soil in the time of th* pontiffs, that it is now comparatively barren. The former English translation, and the French, in tn place are erroneous. 32 PLUTARCH'S LIVES Dexithea, the daughter of Phorbus, and was brought an infant into Italy witli his brother Re- mus, that all the other vessels were lost by the violence of the flood, except that in which the children were, which driving gently ashore where the bank was level, they were saved beyond ex- pectation, and the place from them was called Rome. Some will have it, that Roma, daughter of that Trojan woman who was married to La- tinus, the son of Telemachus, was mother to Ro- mulus. Others say that ^Emilia the daughter of ./Eneas and Lavinia, had him by Mars: and others again give an account of his birth, which is en- tirely fabulous. There appeared, it seems, to Tarchetius, king of the Albans, who was the most wicked and most cruel of men, a superna- tural vision in his own house, the figure of Pria- pus rising out of the chimney-hearth, and staying there many days. The goddess Tethys had an oracle in Tuscany,* which being consulted, gave this answer to Tarchetius, That it was necessary some virgin should accept of the embraces of the phantom, the fruit whereof would be a son, emi- nent for valor, good fortune, and strength of body. Hereupon Tarchetius acquainted one of his daughters with the prediction, and ordered her to entertain the apparition; but she declining it, sent her maid. When Tarchetius came to know it, he was highly offended, and confined them both, intending to put them to death. But Vesta appeared to him in a drearn, and forbade him to kill them; but ordered that the young women should weave a certain web in their fetters, and when that was done, be given in marriage. They weaved, therefore, in the day time; but others, by Tarchetius's order, unraveled it in the night. The woman having twins by this commerce, Tarchetius delivered them to one Teratius, with orders to destroy them. But, instead of that, he exposed them by a river side, where a she-wolf carne and gave them suck, and various sorts of birds brought food and fed the infants, until at last a herdsman, who beheld these wonderful things, ventured to approach and take up the children. Thus secured from danger, they grew up, and then attacked Tarchetius, and overcame him. This is the account Promathion gives in his history of Italy. But the principal parts of that account, which deserve the most credit, and have the most vouchers, were first published among the Greeks by Diocles the Peparethian, whom Fabius Pictor commonly follows; and though there are different relations of the matter, yet to dispatch it in a few words, the story is this. The kings of Albaf de- scending lineally from ^Eneas, the succession fell to two brothers, Numitor and Amulius. The latter divided the whole inheritance into two parts, setting the treasures brought from Troy against the kingdom; and Numitor made choice of the kingdom. Amulius then having the treasures, and consequently being more powerful than Numi- tor, easily possessed himself of the kingdom too; and fearing the daughter of Numitor might have children, he appointed her priestess of Vesta, in * There was no oracle of Tethys, but of Themis there was. Themis was the same with Carmenta, the mother of Evander, which last name she had, hecause she delivered her oracles, in carmine, in verses. t From ^Eneas down to Numitor and Amulius, there were thirteen kings of the same race, but we scarce know any- thing of them, except their names, and the years of their respective reigns. Amulius, the last of them, who surpass- ed his brother in courage and understanding, drove him from the throne, and, to secure it for himself, murdered ^Egestus Numitor's only son, and consecrated his daughter, Rhea Sylvia, to the worship of Vesta. which capacity she was always to live unmarried, and a virgin. Some say her name was Ilia, some Rhea, and others Sylvia. But she was soon dis- covered to be with child, contrary to the law of the vestals. Antho, the king's daughter, by much entreaty, prevailed with her father that she should not be capitally punished. Sho was confined, however, and excluded from society, lest she should be delivered without Amulius's know- ledge. When her time was completed, she was delivered of two sons of uncommon size and beauty; whereunon Amulius, still more alarmed, ordered one of his servants to destroy them. Some say the name of this servant was Faustulus; others, that that was the name of a person that took them up. Pursuant to his orders, he put the children into a small trough or cradle, and went down toward the river, with a design to cast them in; but seeing it very rough, and running with a strong current, he was afraid to approach it. He therefore laid them down near the bank, and de- parted. The flood increasing continually, set the trough afloat, and carried it gently down to a pleasant place now called German um, but former- ly (as it should seem) Germanum, denoting that the brothers arrived there. Near this place was a wild fig-tree, which they called Ruminalis, either on account of Romulus, as is generally supposed, or because the cattle there ruminated, or chewed the cud, during the noontide, in the shade; or rather because of the suckling of the children there; for the ancient Latins called the breast ruma, and the goddess who presides over the nursery Rumilia,* whose rites they celebrate without wine, and only with libations of milk. The infants, as the story goes, lying there, were suckled by a she-wolf, and fed and taken care of by a woodpecker. These ani- mals are sacred to Mars; and the woodpecker is held in great honor and veneration by the Latins Such wonderful events contributed not a little to gain credit to the mother's report, that she had the children by Mars; though in this they tell us she was herself deceived, having suffered violence from Amulius, who came to her, and lay with her in armor. Some say, the ambiguity of the nurse's name gave occasion to the fable; for the Latins call not only she-wolves but prostitutes lup<e; and such was Acca Larentia, the wife of Faustulus, the foster-father of the children. To her also the Romans offer sacrifice, and the priest of Mars honors her with libations in the month of April when they celebrate her feast Larentialia. They worship also another Larentia on the fol- lowing account. The keeper of the temple of Hercules, having, it seems, little else to do, pro- posed to play a game at dice with the god, on condition that, if he won he should have some- thing valuable of that deity; but if he lost, he should provide a noble entertainment for him, and a beautiful woman to lie with him. Then throw- ing the dice, first for the god, and next for himself, it appeared that he had lost. Willing, however, to stand to his bargain, and to perform the condi- tions agreed upon, he prepared a supper, and engaging for the purpose one Larentia, who was very handsome, but as yet little known, he treated her in the temple, where he had provided a bed; and after supper, left her for the enjoyment of the god. It is said, that the deity had some conversa- tion with her, and ordered her to go early in the morning to the market place, salute the first man she should meet, and make him her friend. The * The Romans called that goddess, not Rumilia, but Rumina. ROMULUS. 33 6r*t that met her was one far advanced in years, and in opulent circumstances, Tarrutias by name, who had no children, and never had been married. This man took Larentia to his bed, and loved her so well, that at his death he left her heir to his whole estate, which was very considerable; and she afterward bequeathed the greatest part of it by will to the people. It is said, that at the time when she was in high reputation, and considered as the favorite of a god, she suddenly disappeared about the place where the former Larentia was laid. It is now called Velabrum, because the river often overflowing, they passed it at this place, in ferry-boats, to go to the Forum. This kind of passage they call velatura. Others derive the name from velum, a sail, because they who have the exhibiting of the public shows, beginning at Velabrum, overshade all the way that leads from the Forum to the Hippodrome with canvas, for a sail in Latin is velum. On these accounts is the second Larentia so much honored among the Romans. In the meantime, Faustulus, Amulius's herds- man^ brought up the children entirely undiscover- ed; or ratlier, as others with greater probability assert, Numitor knew it from the first,* and pri- vately supplied the necessaries for their main- tenance. It is also said that they were sent to Gabii, and there instructed in letters, and other branches of education suitable to their birth; and history informs us that they had the names of Romulus and Remus, from the teat of the wild animal which they were, seen to suck. The beauty and dignity of their persons, even in their child- hood, promised a generous disposition; and as they grew up, they both discovered great courage and bravery, with an inclination to hazardous at- tempts, and a spirit which nothing; could subdue. But Romulus seemed more to cultivate the powers of reason, and to excel in political knowledge; while, by his deportment among his neighbors in the employment of pasturage, and hunting, he convinced them that he was born to command rather than to obey. To their equals and infe- riors they behaved very courteously; but they despised the king's bailiffs and chief herdsmen, as not superior to themselves in courage, though they were iu authority, disregarding at once their threats and their anger. They applied themselves io generoi'u exercises and pursuits, looking upon Idleness a<id inactivity as illiberal things, but on hunting, running, banishing or apprehending rob- bers, and delivering such as were oppressed by violence, rs the employments of honor and virtue. By these things they gained great renown. A dispute arising between the herdsmen of Numito* and Amulius, and the former having driven nway some cattle belonging to the latter RomuJ' s and Remus fell upon then), put them to flight, and recovered the greatest part of the booty At this conduct Numitor was highly offended; but they little regarded his resentment. Thft first steps they took on this occasion were to collect, and receive into their company, persons of desperate fortunes, and a great number of laves; a measure which gave alarming proofs of their bold and seditious inclinations. It happen- ed, that when Romulus was employed in sacri- ficing (for to that and divination he was much inclined,) Numitor's herdsmen met with Rernus, * Namitor mi^ht build upon this the hopes of his re- *t;il)li.shment; but his knowing the place where the chil- dren were brought up, and supplying them with necessaries, u quite inconsistent with the manner of their discovery when grown up, which is the most agreeable part of the ,., as he was walking with a small retinue, and i'ell upon him. After some blows exchanged, and wounds given and receiveJ, Numitor's people pre- vailed and took Remus prisoner. He was carried before Numitor, and had several things laid to his charge, but Numitor did not choose to punish him himself, for fear of his brother's resentment. To him, therefore, ho applied for justice, which he had all the reason in the world to expect; since, though brother to the reigning prince, he had been injured by his servants, who presumed upon his authority. The people of Alba, moreover, ex- pressing their uneasiness, and thinking that Nu- mitor suffered great indignities, Arnuliu? moved with their complaints, delivered Remus tu hun to be treated as he should think proper. When the youth was conducted to his house, Numitor was greatly struck with his appearance, as he was very remarkable for size and strength; he ob-. served, too, his presence of mind, and the steadi- ness of his looks, which had nothing servile in them, not were altered with the sense of his pre- sent danger: and he was informed that his actions and whole behavior were suitable to what he saw. But above all, some divine influence, as it seems, directing the beginnings of the great events that were to follow, Numitor, by his sagacity, or by a fortunate conjecture, suspecting the truth, ques- tioned him concerning the circumstances of his birth; speaking mildly at the same time, and re- garding him with a gracious eye. He boldly answered, "I will hide nothing :irom you; for you behave in a more princely manner than Amulius, since you hear and examine before you punish: but he has delivered us up without inquir- ing into the matter. I have a twin-brother, and heretofore we believed ourselves the sons of Faus- tulus and Larentia, servants to the king. But, since we were accused before you, and so pursued by slander as to be in danger of our lives, we hear nobler things concerning our birth. Whether they are true, the present crisis will show.* Our birth is said to have been secret; our support in our infancy miraculous. We were exposed to birds and wild beasts, and by them nourished; suckled by a she-wolf, and fed by the attentions of a woodpecker as we lay in a trough by the great river. The trough is still preserved, bound about with brass bands, and inscribed with letters partly faded; which may prove, perhaps, hereafter very useful tokens to our parents, when we are ; destroyed." Numitor hearing this, and compar- ing the time with the young man's looks, was confirmed in the pleasing hope he had conceived, and he considered how he might consult his daughter about this affair; for she was still kept in close custody Meanwhile Faustulus, having heard that Re- mus was taken and delivered up to punishment, desired Romulus to assist his brother, informing him then clearly of the particulars of his birth; for before he had only given dark hints about it, and signified just so much as might take off the attention of his wards from everything that was mean. He himself took the trough, and in all the tumult of concern and fear carried it to Numitor. His disorder raised some suspicion in the king's guards at the gate, and that disorder increasing wi.ile th.^y looked earnestly upon him, and per- plexed him with their questions, he was discover- ed to have a trough under his cloak. There hap- pened to be among them one of those who had it in * For if they were true, the god who miraculously pro- tected them in their infancy, would deliver Remos-ftom bit present danger. , PLUTARCH'S LIVES. charge to throw the children into the river, and who was concerned in the exposing of them. This man, seeing the trough, and knowing it by its make and inscription, rightly guessed the business; and thinking it an affair not to be 1 neglected, immediately acquainted the king with it, and put him upon inquiring into it. In these great and pressing difficulties, Faustulus did not preserve entirely his presence of mind, nor yet fully discover the matter. He acknowledgsd that the children were saved, indeed, but said that they kept cattle at a gre-at distance from Alba; and that he was carrying the trough to Ilia, who had often desired to see it, that she might entertain the better hopes that her children were alive. Whatever persons perplexed and actuated with fear or anger used to suffer, Amulius then suffer- ed; for in his hurry, he sent au honest man, a friend of Numitor's to inquire of him whether he had any account that the children were alive. When the man was come, and saw Remus almost in the embraces of Numitor, he endeavored to confirm him iu the persuasion that the youth was really his grandson ; begging him at the same time, immediately to take the best measures that could be thought of, and offering his best assist- ance to support their party. The occasion admit- ted of no delay, if they had been inclined to it; for Romulus was now at hand, and a good number of the citizens were now gathered about him, either out of hatred or fear of Amulius. He brought also a considerable force with him, di- vided into companies of a hundred men each, headed by an officer who bore a handful of grass and shrubs upon a pole. These the Latins called Manipuli; and hence it is, that, to this day, sol- diers of the same company are called Manipu- lares. Remus, then, having gained those within, and Romulus assaulting the palace without, the tyrant knew not what to do, or whom he should consult, but amidst his doubts and perplexity, was taken and slain. These particulars, though mostly related by Fabius, and Diocles the Peparethian, who seem to have been the first that wrote about the founding of Rome, are yet suspected by some as fabulous and groundless. Perhaps, however, we should not be so incredulous, when we see what extraordinary events Fortune produces: nor, when we consider what night of greatness Rome attained to, can we think it could ever have been effected without some supernatural assistance at first, and an origin more than human. Amulius being dead, and the troubles com- posed, the two brothers were not willing to live in Alba, without governing there; nor yet to take the government upon them during their grand- father's life. Having, therefore, invested him with it, and paid due honors to their mother, they determined to dwell in a city of their own, and for that purpose, to build one in the place where they had their first nourishment. This seems, at least, to be the most plausible reason of their quitting Alba; and perhaps, too, it was necessary, as a great number of slaves and fugitives was collected about them, either to see their affairs entirely ruined, if these should disperse, or with them to seek another habitation ; for that the people of Alba refused to permit the fugitives to mix with them, or to receive them as citizens, sufficiently appears from the rape of the women, which was not undertaken out of a licentious .humor, but deliberately, and through necessity, from the want of wives; since, after they seized them, they treated them very honorably. As soon as the foundation of the city was laid, ithey opened a place of refuge for fugitives, which they called the Temple of the Asylaean God.* Here they received all that came, and would neither deliver up the slave to his master, the debtor to his creditor, nor the murderer to the magistrate; declaring that they were directed by the oracle of Apollo to preserve the asylum from ill violation. Thus the city was soon peopled ;r for it is said, that the houses at first did not ex ceed a thousand. But of that hereafter. While they were intent upon building, a dis- pute soon arose about the place. Romulus having built a square, which he called Rome, would have the city there; but Remus marked out a more secure situation on Mount Aventine, which, from him, was called Remonium,t but now has the name of Rignarium. The dispute was referred to the decision of augury; and for this purpose they sat down in the open air, when Remus, as they tell us, saw six vultures, and Romulus twice as many. Some say, Remus's account of the number he had seen was true, and that of Romu- lus not so; but when Remus came up to him, he did really see twelve. Hence the Romans, in their divination by the flight of birds, chiefly regard the vulture: though Herodorus of Pontus relates, that Hercules used to rejoice when a vul- ture appeared to him when he was going upon any great action. This was, probably, because it is a creature the least mischievous of any, per- nicious neither to corn, plants, nor cattle. It only feeds upon dead carcasses; but neither kills nor preys upon anything that has life. As for birds, it does not touch them, even when dead, be- cause they are of its own nature; while eagles, owls, and hawks tear and kill their own kind; and, as JEschylus has it, What bird is clean, that fellow birds devours? Beside, other birds are frequently seen, and may be found at any time; but a vulture is an uncom- mon sight, and we have seldom met with any of their young; so that the rarity of them has oc- casioned an absurd opinion in some, that they come to us from other countries; and soothsayers judge every unusual appearance to be preternatu- ral, and the effect of a divine power. When Remus knew that he was imposed upon, he was highly incensed, and as Romulus was opening a ditch round the place where the walls were to be built, he ridiculed some parts of the work, and obstructed others. At last, as he pre- sumed to leap over it, some say he fell by the hand of Romulus; others by that of Celer, ono * It is not certain, who this God of Refuge was. Diony- sius of Halicarnassus tells us, that in his time, the place where the asylum had been, was consecrated to Jupiter. Romulus did not at first receive the fugitives and outlaws within the walls, but allowed them the hill Saturnius, after- ward called Capitolinus, for their habitation. t Most of the Trojans, of whom there still remained fifty families in Augustus's time, chose to follow the fortune of Romulus and Remus, as did also the inhabitants of Pallan tium and Saturnia, two small towns. t We find no mention either of Remonium or Rignarinm in any other, writer. An anonymous MS. reads Remoria: and Festus tells us (De Ling. Latin, lib. ii), the summit of Mount Aventine was called Remuria, from the time Remus resolved to build the city there. But Dionysius of Halicar nassus speaks of Mount Aventine and Remuria -as two different places; and Stephanus will have Remuria to have been a city in the neighborhood of Rome. The two brothers first differed about the place where their new cily was to be built, and referring the matter to their grandfather, he advised them to have it decided by augury. In this augury Romulus imposed upon Remus; and when the former prevailed that the city should be built upon Mount Palatine, the builders, being divided into two companies were no better than two factions. At last, Remus, in contempt, leaped over the work, and said, "Just \o will the enemy leap over it!" whereupon Celer gave him v deadly blow, and answered, " In this manner will our ROMULUS. 35 of his companions. Faustulus also fell in the scuffle; and Plistmus, who, being brother to Fau- stulus, is said to have assisted in bringing Romu- lus up. Celer fled into Tuscany; and from him euch as are swift of foot, or expeditious in busi- ness, are by the Romans called celeres. Thus, when Quintus Metellus, within a few days after his father's death, provided a show of gladiators, the people admiring his quick dispatch, gave him the name of Celer. Romulus buried his brother Remus, together with his foster-fathers, in Remonia, and then built his city, having sent for persons from He- truria,* who (as is usual in sacred mysteries), according to stated ceremonies and written rules, were to order and direct how everything was to 01 itornuius's birth, malting I be done. First, a circular ditch was dug about j the known events of his life, as problems in geo- very little analogy between the Roman and the Grecian months; yet the day on which Romulus founded the city, is strongly affirmed to be the thirteenth of the month. On that day, too, we are informed, there was a conjunction of the sun and moon, attended with an eclipse, the same that was observed by Antimachus, the Teian poet, in the third year of the sixth Olympiad. Varro the philosopher, who of all the Romans was most skilled in history, had an acquaintance named Tarutius, who, beside his knowledge in philosophy and the mathematics, to indulge his speculative turn, had applied himself to astrology, and was thought to be a perfect master of it. To him Varro proposed to find out the day and hour of Rornulus's birth, making his calculation from what is now called the Comitium, or Hall of Jus tice, and the first fruits of everything that is reckoned either good by use, or necessary by nature, were cast into it; and then each bringing a small quantity of the earth of the country from whence he came, threw it in promiscuously.! This ditch had the name of Mundus, the same with that of the universe. In the next place, they marked out the city, like a circle, round this cen- ter; and the founder having fitted to a plow, a brazen plowshare, and yoked a bull and cow, himself drew a deep furrow around the boundaries. The business of those that followed was to turn all the clods raised by the plow inward to the city, and not to suffer any to remain outward. This line described the compass of the city; and between it and the walls is a space called, by contraction, Pornerium, as lying behind or be- yond the wall. Where they designed to have a gate, they took the plowshare out of the ground, and lifted up the plow, making a break for it. Hence they look upon the whole wall as sacred, except the gate-ways. If they considered the gates in the same light as the rest, it would be deemed unlawful either to receive the necessaries of life by them, or to carry out through them what is unclean. The day on which they began to build the city is universally allowed to be the twenty-first of April; and is celebrated annually by the Romans as the birth-day of Rome. At first, we are told, they sacrificed nothing that had life, per- suaded that they ought to keep the solemnity sa- cred to the birth of their country pure, and with- out bloodshed. Nevertheless, before the city was built, on that same day, they had kept a pastoral feast called Palilia.J At present, indeed, there is tizens repulse the enemy." afflicted at the death oV his Some say, that Rornnlus was brother, that he would have laid violent hands upon himself, if he had not been pre- vented. * The Hetrurians, or Tuscans, had, as Festns informs us, a sort'of ritual, wherein were contained the ceremonies thut were to be observed in building cities, temples, altars, walls, and gates. They were instructed in augury and re- ligious rites by Tages, who is said to have been taught by leicury. t Ovid does not say it was a handful of the earth each had brought out of his own country, but of the earth he had taken from his neighbors; which was done to signify hat Rome would soon subdue the neighboring nations. But Isidorus (lib. xxv. cap. ii), is of opinion, that by throw- ing the first fruits and a handful of earth into the trench, they admonish the heads of the colony, that it ought to be their chief study to procure for their fellow citizens all the conveniences of life to maintain peace and union amongst a people come together from different parts of the world, and by this to form themselves into a body never to be dis- solved. t The Palilia, or feast of Pales, is sometimes called Pa- rilia, from the Latin word parerc, to bring forth, because prayers were then made for the frnitfulness of the sheep. According to Ovid (Fast. lib. iv ), the shepherds then made a great feast at night, and concluded the whole with danc- metry are solved by the analytic method; for it belongs to the same science, when a man's na- tivity is given, to predict his life, and when his life is given, to find out his nativity. Tarutiua complied with the request; and when he had con- sidered the disposition and actions of Romulus, how long he lived, and in what manner he died, and had put all these things together, he affirmed, without doubt or hesitation, that his conception was in the first year of the second Olympiad, on the twenty-third day of the month which the Egyptians call Choeac [December], at the third hour, when the sun was totally eclipsed;* and that his birth was on the twenty-third day of the month Thoth [September], about sunrise; and that lie founded Rome on the ninth of the month Pharmuthi [April], between the second and third hour;f for it is supposed that the fortunes of cities, as well as men, have their proper periods determined by the position of the stars at the time of their nativity. These, and the like relations, may, perhaps, rather please the reader, because they are curious, than disgust him, because they are fabulous. When the city was built, Romulus divided the younger part of the inhabitants into battalions. Each corps consisted of three thousand foot, and three hundred horse,i and was called a legion, be- cause the most warlike persons were selected. The rest of the multitude he called The People. A hundred of the most considerable citizens he took for his council, with the title of Patricians, ing over the fires they had made in the fields with heaps of straw. * There was no total eclipse of the son in the first year of the second Olympiad, but in the second year of that Olympiad there was. If Romulus was conceived in the year iast named, it will agree with the common opinion, that he was eighteen years old when he founded Rome, and that Rome was founded in the first year of the seventh Olympiad. t There is great disagreement among historians and chro- nologers, as to the year of the foundation of Rome. Varro places it in the third year of the sixth Olympiad, 752 years before the Christian era; and Fabius Pictor, who is the most ancient of all the Roman writers, and followed by the learned Usher, places it at the end of the seventh Olym- piad, which, according to that prelate, was in the year of the world 3356, and 748 before Christ. But Dionysius Hali- carnassus, ^olinus, and Eusebius, place it in the first year of the seventh Olympiad. t Instead of this, Dionysius of Halicarnassus tells us (lib. ii, p. 7(i N the whole colony consisted of but 3300 men. These Itoriuilns divided into three equal parts, which he called trilit-s or thirds, each of which was to be commanded by its prelect or tribune. The tribes are divided into ten curiae, and these subdivided into ten decuriae. The number of house.,, or rather huts, wjiich was but a thousand, bear witness to the truth of Dionysius's assertion. But it is pro- bably the mean rabble, who took the protection of the asy- lum, and who might be very numerous, were not reckoned among the 3300 rust colonists, though they were afterward admitted to the privileges of citizens. The choice of these hundred persons was not made by the king himself: each tribe chose three senators, and eaa 36 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and the whole body was called the Senate, which signifies an Assembly of Old Men. Its members were styled Patricians; because, as some say, they were fathers of freeborn children; or rather, ac- cording to others, because they themselves had fathers to show, which was not the case with many of the rabble that first flocked to the city. Others derive the title from Patrocinium, or Pa- tronage, attributing the origin of the term to one Patron, who came over with Evander, and was remarkable for his humanity and care of the dis- tressed. But we shall be nearer the truth, if we conclude that Romulus styled them Patricians, as expecting these respectable persons would watch over those in humble stations with a parental care and regard; and teaching the common- alty in their turn not to fear or envy the power of their superiors, but to behave to them with love and respect, both looking upon them as fathers, and honoring them with tiiat name. For at this very time, foreign nations call the Senators Lords, but the Romans themselves call them Con- script Fathers, a style of greater dignity and honor, and withal much less invidious. At first, indeed, they were called Fathers only; but, after- ward, when more were enrolled in their body, Conscript Fathers. With this venerable title, then, he distinguished the senate from the people. He likewise made another distinction between the nobility and the commons, calling the former Pa- trons,* and the latter clients; which was the source of mutual kindness and many good offices between them. For the Patrons were to those they had taken under their protection, counselors aud advocates in their suits at law, and advisers and assistants on all occasions. On the other hand, the Clients failed not in their attentions, whether they were to be shown in deference and respect, or in providing their daughters portions, or iii satisfying their creditors, if their circum- stances happened to be narrow. No law or ma- gistrate obliged the Patron to be evidence against his Client, or the Client against his Patron. But in aftertimes, though the other claims continued in full force, it was looked upon as ungenerous for persons of condition to take money of those be- low them. In the fourth month after the building of the city,f as Fabius informs us, the rape of the Sa- bine women was put in execution. Some say, Romulus himself, who was naturally warlike and persuaded by certain oracles that the Fates had decreed Rome to obtain her greatness by military achievements, began hostilities against the Sa- bines, and seized only thirty virgins, being more desirous of war than of wives for his people. But this is not likely. For, as he saw his city soon filled with inhabitants, very few of whom were married; the greatest part consisted of a mixed of the thirty curia the like number, which made in all the number of ninety-nine; so that Romulus named only the hnndredth, who was the head, or prince of the senate, and the chief governor of the city, when the king was in the field. * This patronage was as effectual as any consanguinity or alliance, and had a wonderful effect toward maintaining union among the people for the space of six hundred and twenty years, during which time we find no dissensions or jealousies between the patrons and their clients, even in the time of the republic, when the populace frequently mu- tinied against those who were most powerful in the city. At last, the great sedition raised by Caius Gracchus broke in upon that harmony. Indeed, a client who was wanting in his duty to his patron, was deemed a traitor and an ou law, and liable to be put to death by any person whatever. It may be proper to observe, that not only plebeians chose their patrons, but in time cities and states put themselves snder the like protection. t Gellius says, it was in the fourth year. rabble, of mean and obscure persons, to whom no regard was paid, and who were not expecting to settle in any place whatever, the enterprise natu- rally took that turn; and he hoped that from this attempt, though not a just one, some alliance and union with the Sabines would be obtained, when it appeared that they treated the women kindly. In order to this, he first gave out that he had found the altar of some god, which had been co- vered with earth. This deity they called Census, meaning either the God of Counsel (for with them the word consilium has that signification, and their chief magistrates afterward were Consuls, persons who were to consult the public good}, or else the Equestrian Neptune; for the altar in the Circus Maximus* is not visible at other times, but during the Circensian games it is uncovered. Some say it was proper that the altar of that god should be under ground, because counsel should be as pri- vate and secret as possible. Upon this discovery, Romulu?, by proclamation, appointed a day for a splendid sacrifice, with public games and shows. Multitudes assembled at the time, and he himself presided, sitting among his nobles, clothed in pur- ple. As a signal for the assault, he was to rise, gather up his robe, and fold it about him. Many of his people wore swords that day, and kept theii eyes upon him, watching for tiie signal, which was no sooner given than they drew them, and rushing on with a shout, seized the daughters of the Sabines, but quietly suffered the men to es- cape. Some say only thirty were carried off, who each gave name to a tribe; but Valerius Antias makes their number five hundred and twenty- seven; and according to Juba,t there were six hundred and eighty-three, all virgins. This was the best apology for Romulus; for they had taken but one married woman, named Hersilia, who was afterward chiefly concerned in recon- ciling them; and her they took by mistake, as they were not incited to this violence by lust or injustice, but by their desire to conciliate and unite the two nations in the strongest ties. Some tell us, Hersilia was married to Hostilius, one of the most eminent men among the Romans; others, that Romulus himself married her, and had two children by her, a daughter named Prima, on ac- count of her being first born, and an only son, whom he called Aollius, because of the great con- course of people to him, but after ages, Abillius. This account we have from Zenodotus of Troe- zene, but he is contradicted in it by many other historians. Among those that committed this rape, we are told, some of the meaner sort happened to be car- rying off a virgin of uncommon beauty and sta- ture; and when some of superior rank that met them attempted to take her from them, they cried out, they were conducting her to Talasius, a young man of excellent character. When they heard this, they applauded their design; and some even turned back and accompanied them with the utmost satisfaction, all the way exclaiming Tala- sius. Hence this became a term in the nuptial songs of the Romans, as Hymenseus is in those of the Greeks; for Talasius is said to have been very happy in marriage. But Sexlius Sylla, the Carthaginian, a man beloved both by the Muses and Graces, told me, that this was the word which * That is to say, in the place where Ancus Martius after ward built the great Circus for horse and chariot races. t This was the son of Juba, king of Mauritania, who, being brought very young a captive to Rome, was instructed in the Roman and Grecian literature, and became an excel* lent historian. Dionysius of Halicarnassns has followed bis account. ROMULUS. 37 Romulus gave as a signal for the rape. All of them, therefore, as they were carrying off* the virgins, cried out Talasius; and thence it still continues the custom at marriages. Most writers, however, and Juba in particular, are of opinion that it is only an incitement to good housewifery and spinning, which the word Talasia signifies; Italian terms being at that time thus mixed with Greek.* If this be right, and the Romans did then use the word Talasia in the same sense with the Greeks, another and more probable reason of the custom may be assigned. For when the Sa- bines, after the war with the Romans, were re- conciled, conditions were obtained for the women, that they should not be obliged by their husbands to do any other work beside spinning. It was customary therefore, ever after, that they who gave the bride, or conducted her home, or were present on the occasion, should cry out, amid the mirth of the wedding, Talasius; intimating that she was not to be employed in any other labor but that of spinning. And it is a custom still ob- served, for the bride not to go over the threshold of her husband's house herself, but to be carried over, because the Sabine virgins did not go in vo- luntarily, but were carried in by violence. Some add, that the bride's hair is parted with the point of a spear, in memory of the first marriages being brought about in a warlike manner, of which we have spoken more fully in the book of Questions. This rape was committed on the eighteenth day * The original which runs thus: Oi <f TrKtlsot voju.ix<riv , a>v ndu o ]G$XC> x-'-H, 'JftTV\vtv WJLI u; yihtpy-txv, x.*t TxhsipiAV) xrra> TCT* vot; 'E^Kfiymoi; ovoju.at.yt TIM iTstX/- xav tTrtnt^u/nevuv, is manifestly corrupted: and all the former translations, following coirupt reading, assert what is utterly false, namely, "that no Greek terms were then mixed with the language of Italy." The contrary appears from Plutarch's Life of Numa, where Greek terms are men- tioned as frequently used by the Romans; TU>I 'EAAMyjxaiy cvo {AZTovv Ton ^MXAMV vuv roic AATIVOK But not to have recourse to facts, let us inquire into the several former translations. The Latin runs thus: Plerique (inter quos est Juba) ad hortationem. et incitationem ad laborij sedulitatem et lanijicium, quod Orccci T*X*CW dicunt, censcnt nondum id temporis Ttalicis verbis cum Grai- cis confusis. The English thus: "But most are of opi- nion, and Juba, in particular, that this word Talasius was used to new married women, by way of incitement to good housewifery, for the Greek word Talasia signifies spinning, and the language of Italy was not yet mixed with the Greek." The trench of Dacier thus: " Cependant la plu- part des auteurs croient, et Juba est meme de cette opinion, qne ce mot n'etoit qu'une exhortation qu'on faisoit aux mariees d'aimer le travail, qui consiste a filer de la laine qne les Grecs appellent Talasia; car en ce terns la langne Grpcque n'avoit pas encore ete corrompue par les mots La- tins." Thus they declare with one consent, that the lan- guage of Italy was not yet mixed with the Greek; though it appears from what was said immediately before, that Talasia, a Greek term, was made use of in that language. Instead, therefore, of ZTTO, no t yet, we should most cer- tainly read TO, thus: TO TOTS rot; 'E^KHvacon; tvofjt*<ri Tcev lT*Kiituv tTruuxvptvw, "the language of Italy being at that time thus mixed with Greek terms; for instance, Talasia.'" By this emendation, which consists only of the small allerntion of the ?r into T, the sense is easy, the context clenr, Plutarch is reconciled to himself, and 'freed from the charge of contradicting in one breath what he had asserted in another. If this wanted any further support, we might allege a passage from Plutarch's Marcellus, which, as well as that in the life of Numa, is express and decisive. Speaking there of the derivation of the word Fcrftrius, an appella- tion which Jupiter probably first had in the time of Romu- lus, on occasion of his consecrating to him the spolia opi- ma; one account he gives of the matter is, that Feretrius might be derived from qtptTpoy, the vehicle on which the of the month then called Sextilis, now August, at which time the feast of the Consualia is kept. The Sabines were a numerous and warlike peo- ple, but they dwelt in unwalled towns, thinking it became them, who were a colony of the Lace- demonians, to be bold and fearless. But as they saw themselves bound by such pledges, and were very solicitous for their daughters, they sent am- bassadors to Romulus with moderate and equita- ble demands: That he should return them the young women, and disavow the violence, and then the two nations should proceed to establish a cor- respondence, and contract alliances in a friendly and legal way. Romulus, however, refused to part with the young women, and entreated the Sabines to give their sanction to what had been done, whereupon some of them lost time in con- sulting and making preparations. But Acron, king of the Ceninensians, a man of spirit, and an able general, suspected the tendency of Romu- lus's first enterprises; and, when he had behaved so boldly in the rape, looked upon him as one that would grow formidable, and indeed insuffer- able to his neighbors, except he were chastised. Acron, therefore, went to seek the enemy, and Romulus prepared to receive him. When they came in sight, and had well viewed each other, a challenge for single combat was mutually given, their forces standing under arms in silence. Ro- mulus on this occasion made a vow, that if he conquered his enemy, he would himself dedicate his adversary's arms to Jupiter: in consequence of which, he both overcame Acron, and, after but- tle was joined, routed his army, and took his city. But he did no injury to its inhabitants, unless it were such to order them to demolish their houses, and follow him to Rome, as citizens entitled to equal privileges with the rest. Indeed, there was nothing that contributed more to the greatness of Rome, than that she was always uniting and incorporating with herself those whom she con- quered. Romulus having considered how he should perform his vow in the most acceptable manner to Jupiter, and withal make the proces- sion most agreeable to his people, cut down a great oak tliat grew in the carnp, and hewed it into the figure of a trophy; to this he fastened Acron's whole suit of armor, disposed in its pro- per form. Then he put on his own robes, and wearing a crown of laurel on his head, his hair gracefully flowing, he took the trophy erect upon his right shoulder, and so marched on, singing the song of victory before his troops, which followed completely armed, while the citizens received him with joy and admiration. This procession was the origin and model of future triumphs. The trophy was dedicated to Jupiter Feretrius so called from the Latin word, ferire,* to smite; for Romulus had pruyed that he might have power to smite his adversary and kill him. Varro says, this sort of spoils is termed opimarf from opes, which signifies riches. But more probably they are so styled from opus, the meaning of which ia action. For when the general of an army kills the enemy's general with his own hand, then only is he allowed to consecrate the spoils called npiina, as the sole performer of that action.* This * Or from the \vordfrrrc, to carry, because Romulus had himself carried to the Temple of Jupiter the armor of the king he had killed; or, more probably, from the Greek word pheretron, which Livy calls in the Latin fervulum, and which properly signifies a trophy. ;us derives the word opima from ops, which signifies S-CXXKV TOTS rujUptfAS.uiyu.tvnv <T* AO.TIVW, "for at that i according to that writer, signify rich spoils. lime the Greek language was much mixed with the Latin." j t This is Livy's account of the matter; but Varro, ai PLUTARCH'S LIVES. honor has been conferred only on three Roman chiefs; first on Romulus, when ho slew Acron the Ceninensian; next on Cornelius Cossus, for killing Tolumnius the Tuscan; and lastly, on Claudius Marcellus, when Viridomarus, king of the Gauls, fell by his hand. Cossus and Marcellus bore, indeed, the trophies themselves, but drove into Rome in triumphal chariots. But Diony- sius is mistaken in saying that Romulus made use of a chariot; for some historians assert that Tarquinius, the son of Demaratus, was the first of the kings that advanced triumphs to this pomp and grandeur: Others say, Publicola was the first that led up this triumph in a chariot. However, there are statues of Romulus bearing these tro- phies yet to be seen in Rome, which are all on foot. After the defeat of the Ceninenses, while the rest of the Sabines were busied in preparations, the people of FideuaB, Crustumenium, and An- temno3, united against the Romans. A battle en- sued, in which they were likewise defeated, and surrendered to Romulus, their cities to be spoiled, their lands to be divided, and themselves to be transplanted to Rome. All the lands thus ac- quired, he distributed among the citizens, except what belonged to the parents of the stolen vir- gins; for those he left in the possession of their former owners. The rest of the Sabines, enraged at this, appointed Tatius their general, and car- ried war to the gates of Rome. The city was difficult of access, having a strong garrison on the hill where the Capitol now stands, commanded by Tarpeius, not by the virgin Tarpeia, as some say, who in this represent Romulus as a very weak man. However, this Tarpeia, the gover- nor's daughter, charmed with the golden bracelets of the Sabines, betrayed the fort into their hands; and asked, in return for her treason, what they wore on their left arms. Tatius agreeing to the condition, she opened one of the gates by night, and let in the Sabines. It seems, it was not the sentiment of Antigonus alone, who said, He loved men while they were betraying, but hated them when they had betrayed ; nor of Csesar, who said, in the case of Rhyrnitacles the Thracian, " He loved the treason, but hated the traitor:" But men are commonly affected toward villains, whom they have occasion for, just as they are toward venomous creatures, which they have need of for their poison and their gall. While they are of use they love them, but abhor theiji when their pur- pose is effected. Such were the sentiments of Tatius with regard to Tarpeia when he ordered the Sabines to remember their promise, and to grudge her nothing which they had on their left arms. He was the first to take off his bracelet, and throw it to her, and with that his shield*. As every one did the same, she was overpowered by the gold and shields thrown upon her, and sinking under the weight, expired. Tarpeius too, was taken, and condemned by Rornulus for trea- son, as Juba writes after Sulpitius Galba. As for "the account given of Tarpeia by other writers, quoted by Festus, tells us, a Roman might be entitled to the spolia opima though but a private soldier, miles manipula- ris, provided he killed and despoiled the enemy's general Accordingly Corneljus Cossus had them, for kiHing b Tolum- nius, king of the Tuscans, though Cossus was but a tri- bune, who fought under the command of ^Emilius. Cossus, therefore, in all probability, did not enter Rome in a tri- umphal chariot, but followed that of his general, with the trophy on his shoulder. * Piso and other historians say, that Tatius treated her in this manner, because she acted a double part, and en- deavored to betray the Sabines to Romulus, while she was pretending to betray the Romans to them. among whom Antigonus is one, it is absurd and incredible: They say, that she was daughter to Tatius the Sabine general, and being compelled to live with Romulus, she acted and suffered thus ;>y her father's contrivance. But the poet Simu- us makes a most egregious blunder when he says, Tarpeia betrayed the Capitol, not to the Subines, sut to the Gauls, having fallen in love with their ting. Thus he writes: From her high dome, Tarpeia, wretched maid, To the fell Gauls the Capitol betray'd; The hapless victim of unchaste desires, She lost the fortress of her scepter'd sires. And a little after, concerning her death, No amorous Celt, no fierce Bavarian, bore The fair Tarpeia to his stormy shore; Press'd by those shields, whose splendor she admir'd, She sunk, and in the shining death expired. From the place where Tarpeia was buried, the hill had the name of the Tarpeian, until Tarquin consecrated the place to Jupiter, at which time her bones were removed, and so it lost her name; except that part of the Capitol from which male- factors are thrown down, which is still called the Tarpeian rock. The Sabines thus possessed of the fort, Romulus in great fury offered them bat- tle, which Tatius did not decline, as he saw he had a place of strength to retreat to, in caw he was worsted. And, indeed, the spot on wir'cb he was to engage, being surrounded with hills, seemed to promise on both sides a sharp f.ud bloody contest, because it was so confined and the outlets were so narrow, that it was not easy either to fly or pursue. It happened too, that, a few days before, the river had overflowed, and left a deep mud on the plain, where the Forum now stands; which, as it was covered with a crust, was not easily discoverable by the eye, but at the same time was soft underneath and impracticable. The Sabines, ignorant of t'.ns, were pushing forward into it, but by good fo'tune were prevented: For Curtius, a man of higl 1 distinction and spirit, be- ing mounted on a goon horse, advanced a conside- rable way before the rest.* Presently his horse plunged into the slouch, and for a while he endea- vored to disengage him, encouraging him with his voice, and urging hir/i with blows; but finding all ineffectual, he quitted him, and saved himself From him the place, to this very time, is called the Curtian Lake. The Sabines, having escaped this danger, began the fiftlit with great bravery. The victory inclined to neither side, though many were slain, and among the rest Hostilius; who they say, was husband to Hersilia, and grandfather to that Hostilius who reigned after Nurna. It ia probable there were many other battles in a short time; but the most memorable was the last; in which Romulus having received a blow upon the head with a stone, was almost beaten down to the ground, and no longer able to oppose the enemy; * Livy and Dionysius of Halicarnassus relate the matter otherwise. They tell us, that Curtius at first repulsed the Romans; but being in his turn overpowered by Romulus, and endeavoring to make good his retreat, he happened to fall into the lake, which from that time bore his name: For it was called Lacus Curtius, even when it was dried up, and almost in the center of the Roman Forum. Procilius says, that the earth having opened, the Aruspiees declared it necessary for the safety of the republic, that the bravest man of the city should throw himself into the gulf, where- upon one Curtius, mounting on horseback, leaped armed into it, and the gulf immediately closed. Before the build- ing of the common sewers, this pool was a sort of sink, which received all the filth of the city. Some writers think, that it received its name from Curtius the Consul, colleague to M. Genucius, because he caused it to be walleii in by the advice of the Aruspices, after it had been stiucfc with lightning. Varro de Ling. Lat. 1, iv. ROMULUS. 39 Ae i the Romans gave way, and were driven from the plain as far as the Palatine lull. By this time Romulus, recovering from the shock, endeavored by force to stop his men in their flight, and loudly called upon them to stand and renew the engage- ment. But when he saw the rout was general, and that no one had courage to face about, he lifted up his hands toward heaven, and prayed to Jupiter to stop the army, and to re-establish and maintain the Roman cause, which was now in extreme danger. When the prayer was ended, many of the fugitives were struck with reverence for their king, and their fear was changed into cou- rage. They first stopped where now stands the temple of Jupiter Stator, so called from his put- ting a stop to their flight. There they engaged again, and repulsed the Sabines as far as the pa- lace now called Regia, and the temple of Vesta. When they were preparing here to renew the combat with the same animosity as at first, their ardor was repressed by an astonishing spectacle, which the powers of language are unable to de- scribe. The daughters of the Sabines, that had been forcibly carried ofF, appeared rushing this way and that with loudcries and lamentations, like persons distracted, amid the drawn swords, and over the dead bodies, to come at their hus- bands and fathers; some carrying their infants in their arms, some darting forward with disheveled hair, but all calling by turns both upon the Sa- bines and the Romans, by the tenderest names. Both parties were extremely moved, and room was made for them between the two armies. Their lamentations pierced to the utmost ranks, and all were deeply affected; particularly when their upbraiding and complaints ended in supplication and entreaty. "What great injury have we done you (said they), that we have suffered, and do still suffer so many miseries? We were carried off, by those who now have us, violently and ille- gally: After this violence we were so neglected by our brothers, our fathers, and relations, that we were necessitated to units in the strongest ties with those that were the objects of our hatred; and we are now brought to tremble for the men that had injured us so much, when we see them in danger, and to lament them when they fall. For you came not to deliver us from violence, while virgins, or to avenge our cause, but now you tear the wives from their husbands, and the mothers from their children; an assistance more grievous to us than all your neglect and disregard. Such love we experienced from them, and such compassion from you. Were the war undertaken in some other cause, yet surely you would stop its ravages for us, who have made you fathers-in law and grandfathers, or otherwise placed you in Bonie near affinity to those whom you seek to destroy. But if the war be for us, take us, will your sons-in-law and their children, and restore us to our parents and kindred ; but do not, we beseech you, rob us of our children and husbands lest we become captives again." Hersilia having said a great deal to this purpose, and others join- ing in the same request, a truce was agreed upon and the generals proceeded to a conference. In the meantime the women presented their hus- bands and children to their fathers and brothers brought refreshments to those that wanted them and carried the wounded home to be cured. Here they showed them, that they had the ordering of their own houses, what attentions their husbands paid them, and with what respect and indulgence they were treated. Upon this a peace was con- cluded, the conditions of which were, that such if the vr V as chose to remain with their hus- >ands, should be exempt from all labor and rudgery, except spinning, as we have mentioned above; that the city should be inhabited by the lomans and Sabines in common, with the name >f Rome, from Romulus; but that all the citizens, 'rom Cures, the capital of the Sabines, and the jountry of Tatius, should be called Quirites;* and that the regal power, and the command of he army, should be equally shared between them. The place where these articles were ratified, is still called Comitium,f from the Latin word coire, vhich signifies to assemble. The city having doubled the number of its in- labitants, an hundred additional senators were elected from among the Sabines, and the legions were to consist of six thousand foot and six hun- dred horse.J The people, too, were divided into three tribes, called Rhamnenses, from Romulus; Tatienses, from Tatius; and Luoerenses, from the Litcus or Grove, where the Asylum stood, whither many had fled and were admitted citizens. That they were precisely three, appears from the very name of Tribes, and that of their chief officers, who were called Tribunes. Each tribe contained ten Curia or Wards, which some say were called after the Sabine women. But this seems to be false; for many of them have their names from the several quarters of the city which, were assigned to them. Many honorable privileges, however, were con- ferred upon the women ; some of which were these: That the men should give them the way, wherever they met them ; that they should not mention an obscene word, or appear naked, be- fore them; that, in case of their killing any per- son, they should not be tried before the ordinary judges; and that their children should wear an ornament about their necks, called Bulla, from its likeness to a bubble, and a garment bordered with purple. The two kings did not presently quit their councils; each meeting, for some time, their hundred Senators apart; but afterward they all assembled together. Tatius dwelt where the temple of Moneta now stands, and Romulus by the steps of the Fair Shore, as they are called, at the descent from the Palatine Hill to the Great * The word Quiris, in the Sabine language, signified both. a dart, and a warlike deity armed with a dart. It is uncer- tain whether the god gave name to the dart, or the dart to the god; but however that be, this god Uuiris or CJuirinus was either Mars, or some other god of war, and was wor- shiped in Rome until Romnlus, who after his death was honored with the name duirinus, took his place. t The Comitium was at the foot of the hill Palatinns, over against the Capitol. Not far froin thence the two kings bnilt the temple of Vulcan, where they usually met to consult the senate about the most important affairs. t Ruauld, in his animadversions upon Plutarch, has disco- vered two considerable errors in this place. The first is, that Plutarch affirms there were GOO horse put by Romulus in every legion, whereas, there never were at any time, so many in any of the legions. For there were at first 200 horse in each legion; after that they rose to ?00, and at last to 400, but never came up to (500. In the second place he tells us, that Romulus made the legion to consist of 6000 foot; whereas in his time it was never more than 3000. It is said by some, that Marias was the first who raised the legion to 60CO; but Livy informs us, that that augmentation was made by Scipio Africanus, long before Marius. After the expulsion of the kings, it was augmented from three to four thousand, and some time after to five, and at last, by Scipio (as %ve have said) to six. But this was never done, but upon pressing occasions. The stated force of a legion was 4000 foot, and 200 horse. The young men, when they took upon them the Toga virilis, or man's robe, quitted the Bnlla, which is supposed to have been a little hollow ball of gold, and made an offer- ing of it to the Dii Lare.?, or household gods. As to the PrcEtexta, or robe edged with purple, it was worn by girls until their marriage, and by boys until they were seventeen. But what in the time of Romulus was a mark of distinction for the children of the Sabine women, becair.e afterward very common; for even the children of the Libcrti, or freed men, wore it. 40 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Cirrus. There, we are told, grew the sacred Cornel-tree ; the fabulous account of which is, that Romulus once, to try his strength, threw a npear, whose shaft was of cornel-wood, from Mount Aventine to that place; the head of which stuck so deep in the ground, that no one could pull it out, though many tried; and the soil being rich, so nourished the wood, that it shot forth branches, and became a trunk of cornel of con- siderable bigness. This posterity preserved with a religious care, as a thing eminently sacred, and therefore built a wall about it: and when any one that approached it saw it not very flourishing and green, but inclining to fade ami wither, he pre- sently proclaimed it to all he met, who, as if they were to assist in case of fire, cried out for water, and ran from all quarters with full vessels to the place. But when Caius Caesar ordered the steps to be repaired, and the workmen were (Jigging near it, it is said they inadvertently injured the roots in such a manner, that the tree withered away. The Sabines received the Roman months. All that is of importance on this subject is mentioned hi the life of Numa. Romulus on the other hand, came into the use of their shields, making an alteration in his own armor, and that of the Ro- mans, who, before, wore bucklers in the manner of the Greeks. They mutually celebrated each other's feasts and sacrifices, not abolishing those of either nation, but over and above appointing some new ones; one of which is the Matronalia,* instituted in honor of the women, for Iheir put- ting an end to the war; and another the Carmen- talia.f Carmenta is by some supposed to be one of the Destinies, who presides over human nativi- ties : therefore she is particularly worshiped by mothers. Others say, she was wife to Evander the Arcadian, and a woman addicted to divination, who received inspirations from Apollo, and de- livered oracles in verse; thence called Carmenta, for cnrmina signifies verse; but her proper name, as is agreed on all hands, was Nicostrata. Others, again, with greater pobability assert that the former name was given her because she was dis- tracted with enthusiastic fury; for carere. mertte signifies to be insane. Of the feast of Palilia, we have already given an account. As for the Lu- percalia,t by the time, it should seem to be a feast of lustration; for it was celebrated on one of the inauspicious days of the month of February, which name denotes it to be the month of Puri- fying; and the day was formerly called Februata. But the true meaning of Lupercalia is the Feast of Wolves; and it seems, for that reason, to be very ancient, as received from the Arcadians, who came over with Evander. This is the general opinion. But the term may be derived from Lupa, a she wolf; for we see the Luperci begin During this feasl, such of the Roman women as were married, served their slaves at. table, and received presents from their husbands, as the husbands did from their wives in the time of th Saturnalia. As the festival of the Ma- tronalia was not only observed in honor of the Sabine wo- men, but consecnted to Mars, and, as some will have it, to Juno Lucina, sacrifices were offered to both these deities' This feast was the subject of Horace's Ode; Martiis cinl'dis Quid again calrndi.*, $-c., arid Ovid describes it at lar^e in the third Book of Fasti. Dacier says, by mistake," that this feast was kept on the first of April, instead of the first of March, and the former English annotator has followed him. f This is a very solemn feast kept on the llth of January, under the Capitol, near the Cnrmental gate. They begged of this goddess to render their women fruitful, and to 'give them happy deliveries. t This festival was celebrated on the llth of February, in Lonor of the God Pau. their course from the place where they say Romu- lus was exposed. However, if we consider the ceremonies, the reason of the name seems hard to guess: For first, goats are killed; then two no- blemen's sons are introduced, and some are to stain their foreheads with a bloody knife, others to wipe off the stain directly, with wool steeped in milk, which they bring for that purpose. When it is wi:>ed off, the young men are to laugh. After this they cut the goats' skins in pieces, and run about all naked, except their middle, and lash with those thongs all they meet. The young women avoid not the stroke, as they think it assists conception and childbirth. Another thing proper to this feast is, for the Luperci to sacrifice a dog. Butas, who in his Elegies has given a fabulous account of the origin of the Roman in- stitutions, writes, that when Romulus had over- come Amulius, iu the transports of victory he' ran with great speed to the place where the wolf suckled him and his brother, when infants; and that this feast is celebrated, and the young noble- men run, in imitation of that action, striking all that are in their way: As the famed twins of Rome, Amnlins slain, From Alba pour'd, and with iheir reeking swords Saluted all they met. -- And the touching of the forehead with a bloody knife, is a symbol of that slaughter and danger, as the wiping off the blood with milk is in memory of their first nourishment. But Caius Acilius re- lates, that before the building of Rome, Romulus and Remus having lost their cattle, first prayed to Faunus for success in the search of them, and then ran out naked to seek them, that they might not be incommoded with sweat; therefore the Lu- perci run about naked. As to the dog, if this be a feast of lustration, we may suppose it is sacri- ficed, in order to be used in purifying; for the Greeks in their purifications make use of dogs, and perform the ceremonies which they call peris. kulakismoL But if these rites are observed in gratitude to the wolf that nourished and pre- served Romulus, it is with propriety they kill a dog, because it is an enemy to wolves: yet per- haps, nothing more was meant by it than to punish that creature for disturbing the Luperci in their running. Romulus is likewise said to have introduced the Sacred Fire, and to have appointed the holy virgins, called Vestals.* Others attribute this to Nutna, but allow that Romulus was remarkably strict in observing other religious rites, and skill- ed in divination, for which purpose he tore the Lituus. This is a crooked staff, with which those that sit to observe the flight of birds f describe the several quarters of the heavens. It was kept in the Capitol, but lost when Rome was taken by the Gauls; afterward when the barbarians had quitted it, jt was found buried deep in ashes, un- touched by the fire, while everything about it was destroyed and consumed. Romulus also en- acted some laws; among the rest that severe onej which forbids the wife in any case to leave her husband,^: but gives the husband power to divorce * Plutarch means that Romulus was the first who intro- duced the Sacred Fire at Rome. That there were Vesta virgins, however, before this, at Alba, we are certain, be- cause the mother of Romulus was one of them. The sacreu and perpetual fire was not onlv kept up in Italy, but in Egypt, in Persia, in Greece, and almost in all nations. t The Augurs. t Yet this privilege, which Plutarch thinks a hardship upon the women, was indulged the men by Moses in gieatei latitude. The women, however, among the Romans, came at length to divorce their husbands, as appears from Juvenal ROMULUS. 41 his wife, in case of her poisoning his children, or counterfeiting his keys, or being guilty of adul- tery. Bui if on any other occasion he put her away, she was to have one moiety of his goods, and the other was to be consecrated to Ceres; and whoever put away his wife was to make an atone- ment to the gods of the earth. It is something particular, that Romulus appointed no punishment for actual parricides, but called all murder parri- cide, looking upon this as abominable, and the other as impossible. For many ages, indeed, he seemed to have judged rightly; no one was guilty of that crime in Rome for almost six hundred years; and Lucius Ostius, after the wars of Han- nibal, is recorded to have been the first that mur- dered his father. In the fifth year of the reign of Tatius, some of his friends and kinsmen meeting certain ambassa- dors who were going from Laurentum to Rome,* attempted to rob them on the road, and, as they would not suffer it, but stood in their own de- fense, killed them. As this was an atrocious crime, Romulus required that those who com- mitted it should immediately be punished, but Tatius hesitated and put it off. This was the first occasion of any open variance between them; for until now they had behaved themselves as if directed by one soul, and the administration had been carried on with all possible unanimity. The relations of those that were murdered, finding they could have no legal redress from Tatius, fell upon him and slew him at Lavinium, as he was offering sacrifice with Romulus ;f but they conducted Romulus back with applause, as a prince who paid all proper regard to justice. To the body of Ta- tius he gave an honorable interment at Armilus- trium,} on Mount Aventine; but he took no care to revenge his death on the persons that killed him. Some historians write, that the Laurentians iu great terror gave up the murderers of Tatius; but Romulus let them go, saying, "Blood with blood should be repaid." This occasioned a report, and indeed a strong suspicion, that he was not sorry to get rid of his partner in the government. None of these things, however, occasioned any dislur- bance or sedition among the Sabines; but, partly out of regard for Romulus, partly out of fear of his power, or because they reverenced him as a god, they all continued well affected to him. This veneration for him extended to many other nations. The ancient Latins sent ambassadors, and entered into league and alliance with him. Fidence, a city in the neighborhood of Rome, he took, as some say, by sending a body of horse before, with orders to break the hinges of the gates, and then appearing unexpectedly in person. Others will have it, that the Fidenates first attack- ed and ravaged the Roman territories, and were (Sal. 9) and Martial (1. x, ep. 41). At the same time it must be observed, to the honor of Roman virtue, that no divorce was known at Rome for five hunt) red and twenty years. One P. Fervilins, orCarvilius Spnrius, was the first of the Romans that ever put away his wife. * Dionysius of Halicarnassus says, they were ambassa- dors from Lavinium, who liad been at Rome to complain of the incursions made by some of Tatius's friends upon their territories; and that as they were returning, the Sa- bines lay in wait for them on the road, stripped them and killed several of them. Lavinium and Laurentum were neighboring towns in Latium. t Probably this was a sacrifice to the Dii Indigenes of Latium, in which Rome was included. But Licinius writes, that, Tatius went not thither with Romulus, nor on account of the sacrifice, but that he went alone, to persuade the inhabitants to pardon the murderers. t The place was so called, because of a ceremony of the same name, celebrated every year on the 19th of October, when the troops were musteied, and purified by sacrifices. carrying off considerable booty, when Romulus lay in ambush for them, cut many of them off', and took their city. He did not, however, demo- lish it, but made it a Roman colony, and sent into it two thousand five hundred inhabitants on the thirteenth of April. After this a plague broke out, so fatal, that peo- ple died of it without any previous sickness; while the scarcity of fruits, and barrenness of the cattle, added to the calamity. It rained blood, too, in the city; so that their unavoidable sufferings were increased with the terrors of superstition : and when the destruction spread itself to Laurentum, then all agreed, it was for neglecting to uo justice on the murderers of the ambassadors and of Ta- tius, that the divine vengeance pursued both cities. Indeed, when those murderers were given up and punished by both parties, their calamities visibly abated; and Romulus purified the city with lustra- tions, which, they tell us, are yet celebrated at the Ferentine gate. Before the pestilence ceased, the people of Cameria* attacked the Romans, and overran the country, thinking them incapable of resistance by reason of the sickness. But Romu- lus soon met them in the field, gave them battle, in which he killed six thousand of them, took their city, and transplanted half its remaining in- habitants to Rome; adding, on the first of August, to those he left in Cameria, double their number from Rome. So many people had he to spare in about sixteen years' time from the building of the city. Among other spoils he carried from Came- ria a chariot of brass, which he consecrated in the temple of Vulcan, placing upon it his own statue crowned by victory. His affairs thus flourishing, the weaker part of his neighbors submitted, satisfied if they could but live in peace; but the more powerful, dread- ing or envying Romulus, thought they should not by any means let hirn go unnoticed, but oppose and put a stop to his growing greatness. The Veientes, who had a strong city and extensive country,! were the first of the Tuscans who be- gan the war, demanding FideiMB as their pro- perty. But it was not only unjust, but ridiculous, that they who had given the people of Fiden no assistance in the greatest extremities, but had suf- fered them to perish, should challenge their houses and lands now iu the possession of other masters. Romulus, therefore, gave them a contemptuous answer; upon which they divided their forces into two bodies; one attacked the garrison of Fidenae, and the other went to meet Romulus. That which went against Fidenae defeated the Romans, and killed two thousand of them; but the other was beaten by Romulus, with the loss of more than eight thousand men. They gave battle, however, once more, at Fidence, where all allow the victory was chiefly owing to Romulus himself, whose skill and courage were then remarkably displayed, and whose strength and swiftness appeared more than human. But what some report is entirely fabulous, and utterly incredible, that there fell that day fourteen thousand men, above half of whom Romulus slew with his own hand. For even the Messenians seem to have been extravagant in their boasts, when they tell us Aristomenes offered a hecatomb three several times, for having as often killed a hundred Lacedosmonians.J After the * This was a town which Romulus had taken before. Its old inhabitants took this opportunity to rise in arms, and kill the Roman garrison. t Veii, the capital of Tuscany, was situated on a craggy rock, about one hundred furlongs from Rome; and is com- pared by Dionysius of Halicarnassus to Athens, for extent and riches. t Pausanias confirms this account, mentioning both th 42 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Veientes were thus ruined, Romulus suffered the scattered remains to escape, and marched directly to their city. The inhabitants could not bear up after so dreadful a blow, hut humbly suing for a peace, obtained a truce for a hundred years, by giving up a considerable part of their territory called Septempagium, which signifies a district of seven towns, together with the salt-pits by the river; beside which, they delivered into his hands fifty of their nobility as hostages. He triumphed for this on the fifteenth of October, leading up, among many other captives, the general of the Veientes, a man in years, who seemed on this occasion not to have behaved with the prudence which might have been expected from his age. Hence it is, that, to this day, when they offer a sacrifice for victory, they lead an old man through the Forum to tiie Capitol, in a boy's robe, edged with purple, with a bulla about his neck; and the herald cries " Sardians to be sold;"* for the Tus- cans are said to he a colony of the Sardians, and Veii is a city of Tuscany. This was the last of the wars of Romulus. After this he behaved as almost all men do, who rise by some great and unexpected good fortune to dignity and power; for, exalted with his ex- ploits, and loftier in his sentiments, he dropped his popular affability, and assumed the monarch to an odious degree. He gave the first offense by his dress; his habit being a purple vest, over which he wore a robe bordered with purple. He gave audience in a chair of state He had always about him a number of young men called Celeres,f from their dispatch in doing business; and before him went men with staves to keep off the populace, who also wore thongs of leather at their girdles, ready to bind directly any person he should order to be bound. This binding the Latins formerly call- ed Ligare,\ now alligare: whence those Serjeants are called Lictores, and their rods fasces; for the sticks they used on that occasion were small. Though, perhaps, at first they were called Litores, and afterward, by putting in a c, Lictores ; for they are the same that the Greeks called Leitour- goi (officers for the people); and leitos, in Greek, still signifies the people, but laos, the populace. When his grandfather Numitor died in Alba, though the crown undoubtedly belonged to him, yet, to please the people, he left the administra- tion in their own hands; and over the Sabines (in Rome) he appointed yearly a particular ma- gistrate: thus teaching the great men of Rome to seek a free commonwealth without a king, and by turns to rule and to obey. For now the pa- tricians had no share in the government, but only an honorable title and appearance, assembling in the Senate- house more for form than business. There, with silent attention, they heard the king give his orders, and differed only from the rest of the people in this, that they went home with the time and place of these achievements, as well as the heca- tombs offered on account of them to Jupiter Ithomates. Those wars between the Messenians and Spartans were about the time of Tullus Hostilius. The Veientes, with the other Hetrurians, were a colony of Lydians, whose metropolis was the city of Sarrlis. Other writers date this custom from the time of the con- quest of Sardinia by Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus, when such a number of slaves was brought from that island, that none were to be seen in the market but Sardinians. t Romulus ordered the Curiae to choose him a guard of three hundred men, ten out of each CnriiE; and these he called Celeres, for the reason which Plutarch has as- tigned. J. Plutarch had no critical skill in the Latin language. Xylander and H. Stephanus are rationally enough of opinion, that instead of Sabines we should read Albans; and so the Latin translator readers it. first knowledge of what was determined. This treatment they digested as well as they could; but when of his own authority, he divided the con- quered lands among the soldiers, and restored the Veientes their hostages without the consent or approbation of the senate, they considered it 33 an intolerable insult. Hence arose strong suspi- cions against them, and Romulus soon after un- accountably disappeared. This happened on the 7th of July (as it is now called), then Quintilis: and we have no certainty of anything about it but the time; various ceremonies being still per- formed on that day with reference to the event. Nor need we wonder at this uncertainty, since, when Scipio Africanus was found dead in his house after supper,* there was no clear proof of the manner of his death: for some say, that being naturally infirm, he died suddenly; some, that he took poison; and others, that his enemies broke into his house by night, and strangled him. Be- side, all were admitted to see Scipio's dead body, and every one, from the sight of it, had his own suspicion or opinion of the cause. But as Romu- lus disappeared on a sudden, and no part of his body or even his garments could be found, some conjectured, that the senators, who were convened in the temple of Vulcan, fell upon him and killed him; after which each carried a part away under his gown. Others say, that his exit did not happen in the temple of Vulcan, nor in the presence of the senators only, but while he was holding an assembly of the people without the city, at a place called the Goafs-Marsh. The air on that occasion was suddenly convulsed and altered in a wonder- ful manner; for the light of the sun failed,t and they were involved in an astonishing darkness, attended on every side with dreadful thunderings, and tempestuous winds. The multitude then dis- persed and fled, but the nobility gathered into one body. When the tempest was over, and the light appeared again, the people returned to the same place, and a very anxious inquiry was made for the king; but the patricians would not suffer them to look closely into the matter. They commanded them to honor and worship Romulus, who was caught up to heaven, and who, as he had been a gracious king, would be to the Romans a propi- tious deity. Upon this, the multitude went away with great satisfaction, and worshiped him, in hopes of his favor and protection. Some, how- ever, searching more minutely into the affair, gave the patricians no small uneasiness; they even ac- cused them of imposing upon the people a ridicu- lous tale, when they had murdered the king with their own hands. While things were in this disorder, a senator we are told, of great distinction, and famed for sanctity of manners, Julius Proculus by name,$ who came from Alba with Romulus, and had been his faithful friend, went into the Forum, and de- clared upon the most solemn oaths, before all the people, that as he was traveling on the road, * This was Scipio, the son of Paulus ^Emilius, adopted by Scipio Africanus. As he constantly opposed the designs of the Gracchi, it was supposed that his wife Semphrouia, who was sister to those seditious men, took him off by poi- son. According to Valerius Maximns, no judicial inquiry was made into the cause of his death; and Victor tells us, the corpse was carried out, with the face covered with a linen cloth, that the blackness of it might not appear. t Cicero mentions this remarkable darknes's in a fragment of his sixth book De Repub. And it appears from the a* tronomical tables, that there was a great eclipse of the sun in the first year of the sixteenth Olympiad, supposed to be the year that Romulus died, on the 26th of May, which, con- sidering the little exactness there was then in the Roman calendar, might very well coincide wifli the month of Julf, t A descendant of lulus or Ascauius. ROMULUS. 43 : Romulus met him, In a form more noble and august than ever, and clad in bright and dazzling armor. Astonished at the sight, he said to him, "For what misbehavior of ours, king, or by what accident, have you so untimely left us, to labor under the heaviest calumnies, and the whole City to sink under inexpressible sorrow?" To which he answered, " It pleased the gods, my good Proculus, that we should dwell with men for a time; and after having founded a city which will be the most powerful arid glorious in the world, return to heaven, from whence we came. Fare- well then, and go, tell the Romans, that, by the exercise of temperance and fortitude, they shall attain the highest pitch of human greatness; and I, the god Quirinus, will ever be propitious to you." This, by the character and oath of the relator, gained credit with the Romans, who were caught with the enthusiasm, as if they had been actually inspired; and, far from contradicting what they had heard, bade adieu to all their sus- picions of the nobility, united in the deifying of Quirinus, and addressed their devotions to him. This is very like the Grecian fables concerning Aristeas the Proconnesian, and Cleomedes the Astypalesian. For Aristeas, as they tell us, ex- pired in a fuller's shop; and when his friends came to take away the body, it could not be found. Soon after some persons coming in from a jour- ney, said, they met Aristeas traveling toward Croton. As for Cleomedes, their account of him is, that he was a man of gigantic size and strength; bat behaving in a foolish and frantic manner, he was guilty of many acts of violence. At last he went into a school, where he struck the pillar that supported the roof with his fist, and broke it asunder, so that the roof fell in and destroyed the children. Pursued for this, he took refuge in a great chest, and having shut the lid upon him, he held it down so fast, that many men together could not force it open: when they had cut the chest in pieces, they could not find him either dead or alive. Struck with this strange affair, they sent to consult the oracle at Delphi, and had from the priestess this answer, T lie race of heroes ends in Cleomedes. It Ls likewise said that the body of Alcmena as lost, as they were carrying it to the grave, and a stone was seen lying on the bier in its stead. Many such improbable tales are told by writers who wanted to deify beings naturally mortal. It is indeed impious and illiberal to leave nothing of divinity to virtue: but, at the same time to unite heaven and earth in the same sub- ject, is absurd. We should, therefore, reject fa- bles, when we are possessed of undeniable truth; for, according to Pindar, The body yields to death's all powerful summons, While the bright image of eternity Survives This alone is from the gods: from heaven it comes, and to heaven it returns; not indeed with the body; but when il is entirely set free and separate from the body, when it becomes disengaged from tverything sensual and unholy. For in the lan- guage of Heraclitus, the pure soul is of superior excellence,* darting from the body like a flash of * This is a very difficult pa ssage. The former translator, with an unjustifiable liberty, has turned >T yctp 4^ fyfn af, jl virtuous soul is vure and unmixed light; which, however excellent the sentiment, as borrowed from the Scripture, where he had found that God is light, is by no means the sense of the original. Dacier has translated it literally I'amesecfte, and remarks Uie propriety of the expression, with respect to that position lightning from a cloud; but the soul that is carnal and immersed in sense,* like a heavy and dark vapor, with difficulty is kindled and aspires. There s, therefore, no occasion, against nature to send the bodies of good men to heaven; but we are to conclude, that virtuous souls, by nature and the divine justice, rise from men to heroes, from heroes to genii; and at last, if, as in the mysteries, they be perfectly cleansed and purified, shaking off all remains of mortality, and all the power of the passions, then they finally attain the most glori- ous and perfect happiness, and ascend from genii to gods, not by the vote of the people, but by the just and established order of nalure.f The surname that Romulus had of Quirinus, some think was given him, as (another) Mars; others, because they call the Roman citizens Qui- rites; others, again, because the ancients gave the name of Quirks to the point of a spear, or to the spear itself: and that of Juno Quiritis to the statues of Juno, when she was represented lean- ing on a spear. Moreover, they styled a certain spear, which was consecrated in the palace, Mars; and those that distinguished themselves in war were rewarded with a spear. Romulus, then, as a martial or warrior god, was named Quirinus; and the hill on which his temple stands has the name of Quirinalis on his account. The day on which he disappeared, is called the flight of the people, and Nonce Caprotince, because th-en they go out of the city to offer sacrifice at the Goat's-Marsh. On this occasion they pronounce aloud some of their proper names, Marcus and Caius for instance, re- presenting the flight that then happened, and their calling upon one another, amidst the terror and confusion. Others, however, are of opinion that this is not a representation of flight, but of haste and eagerness, deriving the ceremony from this source: When the Gauls, after the taking of Rome, were driven out by Camillus, and the city thus weakened did not easily recover itself, many of the Latins, under the conduct of Livius Posthu- mius, marched against it. This army sitting down before Rome, a herald was sent to signify, that the Latins were desirous to renew their old alliance and affinity, which was now declining, by new intermarriages. If, therefore, they would send a good number of their virgins and widows, peace and friendship should be established between them, as it was before with the Sabines on the like occa- sion. When the Romans heard this, though they were afraid of war, yet they looked upon the giv- of Heraclitus, that fire is the first princirle of all things. The French critic went upon the supposed analogy between fire and dryness; but there is a much more natural and more obvious analogy, which may help us to the interpretation of this passage", that is, the near relation which dryness has to purity or cleanliness; and indeed we find the word />{ used metaphorically in the latter sense '"pu TpoTrot. * Milton, in his Comus, uses the same comparison, for which, however, he is indebted rather to Plato than to Plu- tarch: The lavish act of sin Lets in defilement to the inward parts. The soul grows clotted by contagion, Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose The divine property of her first being. Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp Oft seen in charnel vaults and sepulchers, Lingering and sitting by a new-made grave, As loath to leave the body that it loved. And links itself by charnel sensuality To a degenerate and degraded state. tHesiod was the first who distinguished those four na- tures, men, heroes, genii, and gods. He saw room, it seems, for perpetual progression and improvement in a state of immortality. And when the heathens tell us that be- fore the last degree, that of divinity, is reached, those be- ings are liable to be replunged into their primitive state of darkness, one would imagine they had heard something of the fallen angel*. 44 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ing up their women as not at all more eligible than captivity. While they were in this suspense, a servant maid, named Philotes, or, according to others, Tutola, advised them to do neither, but by a stratagem (which she had thought of) to avoid both the war and the giving of hostages. The stratagem was to dress Philotes herself, and other handsome female slaves, in good attire, and send them, instead of freeborn virgins, to the enemy. Then, in the night, Philotes was to light up a torch, as a signal for the Romans to attack the enemy, and dispatch them in their sleep. The Latins were satisfied, and the scheme put in prac- tice. For accordingly Philotesdid set up a torch on a wild fig-tree, screening it behind with cur- tains and coverlets from the sight of the enemy, while it was visible to the Romans. As soon as they beheld it, they set out in great haste, often calling upon each other at the gates to be expedi- tious. They fell upon the Latins, who expected nothing less, and cut them in pieces. Hence this feast, in memory of the victory. The day was called Nones Caprotin<, on account of the wild jig- tree, in the Roman tongue, caprificus. The women are entertained in the fields, in booths made of the branches of the fig-tree: and the servant- maids in companies run aboutand play; afterward they come to blows, and throw stones at one an- other, in remembrance of their then assisting and standing by the Romans in the battle. These par- ticulars are admitted but by few historians. In- deed, their calling upon each other's names in the day time, and their walking in procession to the Goat's- Marsh,* like persons that were going to a sacrifice, seems rather to be placed to the former account: though possibly both these events might happen, in distant periods, on the same day Romulus is said to have been fifty-four years of age, and in the thirty-eighth of his reign ,f when he was taken from the world. ROMULUS AND THESEUS COMPARED. THIS is all that I have met with that deserves to be related concerning Romulus and Theseus. And to come to the comparison, + first it appears, that Theseus was inclined to great enterprises, by his own proper choice, and compelled by no necessity, since he might have reigned in peace at Tnszene, over a kingdom by no means con- temptible, which would have fallen to him by succession: Whereas Romulus, in order to avoid present slavery and impending punishment, be- came valiant (as Plato expresses it) through fear, and was driven by the terror of extreme suffer- ings to arduous attempts. Beside, the greatest action of Romulus was the killing of one tyrant in Alba: But the first exploits of Theseus, per- formed occasionally, and by way of prelude only, were those of destroying Sciron, Sinnis, Procrustes, and the Club bearer; by whose pun- ishment and death he delivered Greece from se- veral cruel tyrants, before they, for whose preser- vation he was laboring, knew him. Moreover, he might have gone safely to Athens by sea, without any danger from robbers ; but Romulus could have no security while Amulius lived. This difference is evident. Theseus, when unmolested himself, went forlli to rescue others from their oppressors. On the other hand, Romulus and his brother, while they were uninjured by the tyrant themselves, quietly suffered him to exer- * Instead of a>? tm S*XstTT*v, the reading in Bryan's text, which has no tolerable sense, an anonymous copy gives us ctrn-tp AXAKX^W. And that to sacrifice, or rather to offer vp prayers at a sacrifice, is in one sense of a.X*K*^W, ap- pears from the scholiast on Sophocles's TrachinicB, where he explains ct\<*.K*.y7M by T*/? tvi ruv &vri(w tv%-tt/;. This signification, we suppose, it gained from the loud ac- cent in which those prayers are said or sung. t Dionysins of Halicarnassus (and indeed Plutarch him- self, in the beginning of the lite of Numa) says, that Ro- mulus left the world in the thirty-seventh year after the foundation of Rome. But perha'ps those two historians may be reconciled as to the age he died at. For Plutarch says, he was then full fifiy-four years of age, and Dioriysius that he was in his fifty-fifth year. t Nothing can be more excellent than these parallels of Plutarch. He weighs the virtues and vices of men in so just a balance, and puts so true an estimate on their good and bad qualities, that the reader cannot attend to them without infinite advantage. cise his cruelties. And, if it was a great thing for Romulus to be wounded in the battle with the Sabines, to kill Acron, and to conquer many other enemies, we may set against these distinc- tions the battle with the Centaurs, and the war with the Amazons. But as to Theseus's enterprise with respect to the Cretan tribute, when he voluntarily offered to go among the young men and virgins, whether he was to expect to be food for some wild beast, or to be sacrificed at Androgeus's tomb, or, which is the lightest of all the evils said to be prepared for him, to submit to a vile and dishonorable slavery, it is not easy to express his courage and magna- nimity, his regard for justice and the public good, and his love of glory and of virtue. On this occasion, it appears to me, that the philosophers have not ill defined love to be a remedy prowled by the gods for the safety and preservation of youth.* For Ariadne's love seems to have been the work of some god, who designed by that means to pre- serve this great man. Nor should we blame her for her passion, but rather wonder that all were not alike affected toward him. And if she alone was sensible of that tenderness, I may justly pro- nounce her worthy the love of a god,f as she showed so great a regard for virtue and excellence in her attachment to so worthy a man. Both Theseus and Romulus were born with political talents ; yet neither of them preserved the proper character of a king, but deviated from the due medium, the one erring on the side of de- mocracy, the other on that of absolute power, ac- cording to their different tempers. For a prince's first concern is to preserve the government itself : and this is effected, no less by avoiding whatever is improper, than by cultivating what is suitable to his dignity. He who gives up, or extends his authority, continues not a prince or a king, but de- * Vide Plat. Conviv. t Plutarch here enters into the notion of Socrates, who teaches, that it is the love of virtue and real excellence which alone can unite us to the Supreme Being. But though this maxim is good, it is not applicable to Ariadne. For where is the virtue of that princess who feli in love with a stranger at first sight, and hastened to the com- pletion of her wishes through the ruin of her kindred and of her country? ROMULUS AND THESEUS COMPARED. 45 generates into a. republican or a tyrant, and thus incurs cither the hatred or contempt of his sub- jects. The former seems to be the error of a mild and humane disposition} the latter of self- love and severity. If, then, the calamities of mankind are not to be entirely attributed to fortune, but we are to seek the cause in their different manners and passions, here we shall find, that unreasonable anger, with quick and unadvised resentment, is to be imputed both to Romulus, in the case of his brother, and to Theseus in that of his son. But, if we consi- der whence their anger took its rise, the latter seems the more excusable, from the greater cause he had for resentment, as yielding to the heavier blow. For, as the dispute began when Romulus was in cool consultation for the com- mon good,* one would think he could not pre- sently have given way to such a passion: Where- as Theseus was urged against his son by emotions which few men have been able to withstand, pro- ceeding from love, jealousy, and the false sug- gestions of his wife. What is more, the anger of Romulus discharged itself in an action of most unfortunate consequence; but that of Theseus proceeded no further than words, reproaches, and imprecations, the usual revenge of old men. The rest of the young man's misery seems to have been owing to fortune. Thus far, Theseus seems to deserve the preference. But Romulus has, in the first place, this great advantage, that he rose to distinction from very small beginnings. For the two brothers were re- puted slaves and sons of herdsmen ; and yet, before they attained to liberty themselves, they bestowed it on almost all the Latins; gaining at once the most glorious titles, as destroyers of their enemies, deliverers of kindred, kings of nations, and founders of cities, not transplanters, as Theseus was, who filled indeed one city with people, but it was by ruining many others, which bore the names of ancient kings and heroes. And Romulus afterward effected the same, when he compelled his enemies to demolish their habita- tions, and incorporate with their conquerors. He had not, however, a city ready built, to enlarge, or to transplant inhabitants to from other towns, but he created one, gaining to himself lands, a country > a kingdom, children, wives, alliances; and this* without destroying or ruining any one. On the contrary, ho was a great benefactor to persons who, having neither house nor habita- tion, willingly became his citizens and people. He did not, indeed, like Theseus, destroy robbers and ruffians, but he subdued nations, took cities, and triumphed over kings and generals. As for the fate of Remus, it is doubtful by what hand he fell ; most writers ascribing it to others, and not to Romulus. But, in the face of all the world, he saved his mother from destruc- tion, aiid placed his grandfather, who lived in mean and dishonorable subjection, upon the throne of ^Eneas. Moreover, he voluntarily did him many kind offices, but never injured him, not even inadvertently. On the other hand, I think Theseus, in forgetting or neglecting the command about the sail, ca:i scarcely, by any excuses, or before the mildest judges, avoid the imputation of parricide. Sensible how difficult the defense of * Plutarch does not seem to have had a just idea of the contest between Romulus and Remns. The two brothers were not so solicitous about the situation of their new city, as which of them should have the command in it when it was built. this affair would be to those who should attempt it, a certain Athenian writer feigns, that when the ship approached, ^Egeus ran in great haste to the citadel for the better view of it, and missing his step, fell down; as if he were destitute of servants, or went, in whatever hurry, unattended to the sea. Moreover, Theseus's rapes and offenses, with respect to women, admit of no plausible excuse; because, in the first place, they were committed often ; for he carried off Ariadne, Antiope, and Anaxo the Troezenian ; after the rest, Helen; though she was a girl not yet come to maturity, and he so far advanced in years, that it was tima for him to think no more even of lawful marriage The next aggravation is the cause; for the daugh ters of the TnEzenians, the Lacedaemonians, arm the Amazons, were not more fit to bring children, than those of the Athenians sprung from E/ecthe- us and Cecrops. These things, therefore, are liable to the suspicion of a wanton and licentious appetite. On the other hand. Romulus, having carried off at once almost eight hundred women, did not take them all, but only Hersilia, as it is said, for himself, and distributed the rest among the most respectable citizens. And afterward, by the honorable and affectionate treatment he pro- cured them, he turned that injury and violence into a glorious exploit, performed with a political view to the good of society. Thus he united and cemented the two nations together, and opened a source of future kindness and of additional power. Time bears witness to the conjugal mo- desty, tenderness and fidelity which he established; for during two hundred and thirty years, no man attempted to leave his wife, nor any woman her husband.* And, as the very curious among the Greeks can tell you who was the first person that killed his father and mother, so all the Romans know that Spurius Carvilius was the first that divorced his wife, alleging her barrenness. f The immediate effects, as well as length of time, attest what I have said. For the two kings shared the kingdom, and the two nations came under the same government, by means of these alliances. But the marriages of Theseus procured the Athe- nians no friendship with any other state; on the contrary, enmity, wars, the destruction of their citizens, and at last the loss of Aphidnae; which, only through the compassion of the enemy, whom the inhabitants supplicated and honored like gods, escaped the fate that befell Troy by means of Paris. However, the mother of Theseus, deserted and given up by her son, was not only in danger of, but really did suffer, the misfortunes of Hecuba if her captivity be not a fiction, as a great deal beside may very well be. As to the stories we have concerning both, of a supernatural kind, the difference is great. For Romulus was preserved by the signal favor of Heaven: but as the oracle, which commanded ^Egeus not to approach any woman in a foreign country, was not observed, the birth of Theseus appears to have been unac- ceptable to the gods. These numbers are wrong in Plutarch; for Dionysius of Halicarnassus marks the time with great exactness, ac- quainting us that it was five hundred and twenty years aftei the building of Rome, in the consulate of M. Pompouius Matho and C. Papirius Masso. t Carvil'ius made oath before the censors, that he had the best regard for his wife, and that it was sd.ely in compli- ance wilh the sacred engagements of marriage", the design of which was to have children, that he divorced her. Bu. this did not hinder his character from being ever after odious to the people, who thought he had set a very pernicious ex- ample. 46 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. LYCURGUS.* OF Lycurgus the lawgiver we have nothing to relate that is certain and uncontroverted. For there are different accounts of his birth, his tra- vels, his death, and especially of the laws and form of government which he established. But least of all are the times agreed upon in which this great man lived. For some say he flourished at the same time with Iphitus,f and joined with him in settling the cessation of arms during the Olympic games. Among these is Aristotle the philosopher, who alleges for proof an Olympic quoit, on which was preserved the inscription of Ly.urgus's name. But others who, with Eratos- thenes and Apollodorus, compute the time by the succession of the Spartan kings, J place him much earlier than the first Olympiad. TimaBus, how- ever, supposes, that, as there were two Lycurguses in Sparta at different times, the actions of both are ascribed to one, on account of his particular renown; and that the more ancient of them lived not long after Homer: Nay, some say he had seen .him. Xenophon too confirms the opinion of his antiquity, when he makes him cotempomry with the Heraclidae. . It is true, the latest of the Lace- daemonian kings were of the lineage of the Hera- clidre; but Xenophon there seems to spc.-tk of the first and more immediate descendants of Hercules.^ As the history of those times is thus involved, in relating the circumstances of Lycurgus's life, we shall endeavor to select such as are least contro- verted, and follow authors of the greatest credit. Simonides the poet, tells us, that Prytanis, not The life of Lycurgus was the first which Plutarch pub- lished, as he himself observes in the life of Theseus. He seems to have had a strong attachment to the Spartans and their customs, as Xeuophon likewise had. For, beside this life, and those of several other Spartan chiefs, we have a treatise of his on the laws and customs of the Lacedaemo- nians, and another of Laconic Apophthegms. He makes Lycurgus in all things a perfect hero, and alleges his beha- vior as a proof, that the wise man, so often described by the philosophers, was not a mere ideal character unattainable by human nature. It is certain, however, that the encomi- ums bestowed upon him and his laws by the Delphic oracle, were merely a contrivance between the Pythoness and him- self; and some of his laws, for instance that concerning the women, were exceptionable. t Iphitus, king of Elis, is said to have instituted, or rather restored the Olympic games, one hundred and eight years before what is commonly reckoned the first Olympiad, vhich commenced in the year before Christ 77b', or, as some -vul have it, 774, and bore the name of Corojbus, as the fol- owing Olympiads did those of other victors. Iphitus, began with offering a sacrifice to Hercules, whom the Eleans believed to have been upon some account exas- perated against them. He next ordered the Olympic gams, the discontinuance of which was said to have caused a pestilence, to be proclaimed all over Greece, with a pro- mise of tree admission to allcomers, and fixed the time for the celebration of them. He likewise took upon himself to be sole president and judge of those games, a privilege which the PUeans had often disputed with his predecessors, and which continued to his descendants as long as the re^al dignity subsisted. After this, the people appointed two presidents, which in time increased to ten, and at length to twelve. t Strabo says, that Lycnrgus, the lawgiver, certainly lived in the fifth generation after Althemenes, who led a colony Into Crete. This Althemenes was the son of Cissus, who founded Argos, at the same time that Patrocles, Lycurgus's ancestor in the fifth degree, laid the foundation of Sparta. So that Lycurgus flourished some short time after Solomon, about nine hundred years before the Christian Era. This passage is in Xenophon's excellent treatise con- cerning tiie republic of Sparta, from which Plutarch has taken the best part of this life. Eunomus, was father to Lycurgus. But most writers give us the genealogy of Lycurgus and Eunomus in a different manner; for, according to them, Sous was the son of Patrocles, and grandson of Aristodemus, Eurytion the son of Sous, Pry- tanis of Eurytion, and Eunomus ot Prytanis; to this Eunomus was born Polydectes, by a former, wife, and by a second, named Djanassa, Lycurgus. Eutychidas, however, says Lycurgus was the sixth from Patrocles, and the eleventh from Hercules The most distinguished of his ancestors was Sous under whom the Lacedemonians made the Helotet their slaves,* and gained an extensive tract of land from the Arcadians. Of this Sous it is re- lated, that, being besieged by the Clitorians in a difficult post where there was no water, he agreed to give up all his conquests, provided lliat himselt and all his army should #rink of the neighboring spring. When these conditions were sworn to, he assembled his forces, and offered his kingdom to the man that would forbear drinking; not one of them, however, would deny himself, but they drank. Then Sous went down to the spring himself, and having only sprinkled his face in sight of the enemy, he marched off, and still held the country, because all had not drank. Yet, though he was highly honored for this, the family had not their name from him, but from his son, were called Eurytionidce;^ and this, because Eurytion seems to be the first who relaxed the strictness of kingly government, inclining to the interest of the people, and ingratiating himself with them. Upon this relaxation, their encroachments increased, and the succeeding kings, either becoming odious, treating them with greater rigor, or else giving way through weakness or in hopes of favor, for a long time anarchy and confusion prevailed in Sparta; by which one of its kings, the father of Lycurgus, lost his life. For while he was endea- voring to part some persons who were concerned in a fray, he received a wound by a kitchen knife, of which he died, leaving the kingdom to 1m eldest son Polydectes. But he too dying soon after, the general voice g;ive it for Lycurgus to ascend the throne; and he actually did so, until it appeared that his brother's * The Helotes, or Ilotes, were inhabitants of Helos, a maritime town of Laconia. The Lacedaemonians having conquered and made slaves of them, called not only them, but all the other slaves they happened to have, by the name of Helotes. It is certain, however, that the descendants of the original Helotes, though they were extremely ill treated and some of them assassinated, subsisted many ages in Laconia. t It may be proper here to give the reader a short view of the regal government of Laceda?mon, undei- the Herculean line. The Heraclidre, having driven out Tisamenes, the son of Orestes, Eurysthenes and Procles, the 'ons of Aris- todemus, reigned in that kingdom. Under Usm the go- vernment took a new form, and instead of one sove reign, became subject to two. These two brothers did not divide the kingdom between them, neither did they agree to reign alternately, but they resolved to govern jointly, and with equal power and authority. What is surprising is, that notwithstanding this mutual jealousy, this diarchy did not end with these two brothers, but continued under a succes- sion of thirty princes of the line of Eurystbenes, and twenty-seven of that of Procles. Eurysthenes was suc- ceeded by his son Agis, from whom all the descendants of that line were surnarned AgidiiE, as the other line took the name of Eurytioiiido;, from Eurytion, the grandson of Pro* cles, Patrocles, or Protocles. Pausan., fitrab. et al. LYCURGUS. 47 widow was pregnant. As soon as he perceived this, he declared that the kingdom belonged to her !ssv, provided it were male, and he kept the administration in his hands only as his guardian. This he did with the title of Prodicos, which the Lacedemonians give to the guardians of infant kings. Soon after, the queen made him a private overture, that she would destroy her child, upon condition that he would marry her when king of Sparta. Though he detested her wickedness, he said nothing against the proposal, but pretend- ing to approve it, charged her not to take any drugs to procure an abortion, lest she should en- danger her own health or life; for he would take care that the child, as soon as born, should be de- stroyed. Thus lie artfully drew on the woman to her full time, and, when he heard she was in labor, he sent persons to attend and watch her delivery, with orders, if it were a girl, to give il to the wo- men, but if a boy, to bring it to him, in whatever business he might be engaged. It happened that he was at supper with the magistrates when she was delivered of a boy, and his servants, who were present, carried the child to him. When he re- ceived it, he is reported to have said to the com- pany, Spartans, see here your new-born king. He then laid him down upon the chair of state, and named him Charilaus, because of the joy arid ad- miration of his magnanimity and justice testified by all present. Thus the reign of Lycurgus last- ed only eight months. But the citizens had a great veneration for him on other accounts, and there were more that paid him their attentions, and were ready to execute his commands, out of re- gard to his virtues, than those that obeyed him as a guardian to the king, and director of the ad- ministration. There were not, however, wanting those that envied him, and opposed his advance- ment, as too high for so young a man; particular- ly the relations and friends of the queen-mother, who seemed to have been treated with contempt. Her brother Leonidas, one day boldly attacked him with virulent language, and scrupled not to tell him, that he was well assured he would soon be king; thus preparing suspicions, and matter of accusation against Lycurgus, in case any acci- dent should befall the king. Insinuations of the same kind were likewise spread by the queen- mother. Moved with this ill treatment, and fear- ing some dark design, he determined to get clear of all suspicion, by traveling into other countries, until his nephew should be grown up, and have a son to succeed him in the kingdom. He set sail, therefore, and landed in Crete. There having observed the forms of government, and conversed with the most illustrious person- ages, he was struck with admiration of some of their laws,* and resolved at his return to make use of them in Sparta. Some others he rejected. Among the friends he gained in Crete, was Tha- les,f with whom he had interest enough to per- ' The most ancient writers, as Ephorus, Callisthenes, Aristotle, and Plato, are of opinion, that Lycurgus adopted many things in the Cretan polity. But, Polybius will have it that they are all mistaken. "At Sparta," says he, in his sixth book, " the lands are equally divided among all the citizens; wealth is hanished; the crown is hereditary; whereas in Crete the contrary obtains." But this does not prove that Lycurgus might not take some good laws and usages from Crete, and leave what he thought, defec- tive. There is, indeed, so great a conformity between the laws of Lycurgus and those of Minos, that we must be- lieve with'Strabo, that these were the foundation of the. other. t This Thales, who was a poet and musician, must be distinguished from Thales the Milesian, who was one of the seven wise men of Greece. The poet lived two hun- iked and fifty years U'bre the philosopher. suade him to go and settle at Sparta. Thales was famed for his wisdom and political abilities; he was withal a lyric poet, who under color of ex- ercising his art, performed as great things as the most excellent lawgivers. For his odes were so many persuasives to obedience and unanimity, as by means of melody and numbers they had great grace and power, they softened insensibly the manners of the audience, drew them off from the animosities which then prevailed, and united them in zeal for excellence and virtue. So that, in some measure, he prepared the way for Lycurgus toward the instruction of the Spartans. From Crete Lycurgus passed to Asia, desirous, _as is said, to compare the Ionian* expense and luxury with the Cretan frugality and hard diet, so as to judge what effect each had on their several man- ners and governments; just as physicians compare bodies that are weak and sickly with the healthy and robust. There also, probably, he met with Homer's poems, which were preserved by the pos- teritv of Cleophylus. Observing that many moral sentences, and much political knowledge were in- termixed with his stories, which had an irresistible charm, he collected them into one body, and tran- scribed them with pleasure, in order to take them home with him. For his glorious poetry was not yet fully known in Greece; only some particular pieces were in a few hands, as they happened to be dispersed. Lycurgus was the first that made them generally known. The Egyptians likewise suppose that he visited them; and as of all their institutions he was most pleased with their dis- tinguishing the military men from the rest of the people, f he took the same method at Sparta, and, by separating from these the mechanics and arti- ficers, he rendered the constitution more noble and more of apiece. This assertion of the Egyp- tians is confirmed by some of the Greek writers. But we know of no one, except Aristocrates, son of Hipparchus, and a Spartan, who has affirmed that he went to Libya and Spain, and in his In- dian excursions conversed with the Gymnosophists.t The Lacedaemonians found the want of Lycur gus when absent, and sent many embassies to en- treat him to return. For they perceived that their kings had barely the title and outward appendages of royalty, but in nothing else differed from the multitude; whereas Lycurgus had abilities from nature to guide the measures of government, and powers of persuasion, that drew the hearts of men to him. The kings, however, were consulted about his return, and they hoped that in his pres- ence they should experience less insolence amongst the people. Returning then to a city thus disposed, * The lonians sent a colony from Attica into Asia Minor, about one thousand and fifty years before the Christan Era, and one hundred and fifty before Lycurgus. And though they might not be greatly degenerated in so short a time, yet our lawgiver could judge of the effect which the cli- mate and Asiatic plenty bad upon them. t The ancient Egyptians kept not only the priests and military men, who consisted chiefly of the nobility, dis- tinct from the rest of the people; but the other employ- ments, viz: those of herdsmen, shepherds, merchants, inter- preters, and seamen, descended in particular tribes from fa- ther to son. t Indian priests and philosophers who went almost naked, and lived in woods. The Brachmans were one of their sects. They had a great aversion to idleness. Apuleius tells us, every pupil of theirs was obliged to give account every day of some good he had done, either by meditation or notion, before he was admitted to sit down "to dinner. So thoroughly were they persuaded of the transmigration of the soul, and a happy one for themselves, that they used to commit themseU-es "to the flames, when they had lived to satiety, or were apprehensive of any misfortune. But we are afraid it was vanity that induced one of them to bum himself before Alexander th Great, and another to do th same before Augustus Uassai. 48 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. he immediately applied himself to alter the whole frame of the constitution; sensible that a partial change, and the introducing of some new laws, would be of no sort of advantage; but, as in the case of a body diseased and full of bad humors, whose temperament is to be corrected and new formed by medicines, it was necessary to begin a new regimen. Witli these sentiments he went to Delphi, and when he had offered and consulted the god,* he returned with that celebrated oracle, in which the priestess called him, Beloved of the gods, and rather a god than aman. As to his request that he might enact good laws, she told him, Apollo had heard his request, and promised that the constitution he should establish would be the most excellent in the world. Thus encouraged, lie applied to the no- bility, and desired them to put their hands to the work; addressing himself privately at first to his friends, and afterward, by degrees, trying the dis- position of others, and preparing them to concur in the business. When matters were ripe, he or- dered thirty of the principal citizens to appear armed in the market place by break of day, to strike terror into such as might desire to oppose him. Hermippus has given us the names of twenty of the most eminent of them; but he that had the greatest share in the whole enterprise, and gave Lycurgus the best assistance in the establishing of his laws, was called Arithrniades. Upon the first alarm, king Charilaus, apprehending it to be a design against his person, took refuge in the Chal- cioicos.f But he was soon satisfied, and accepted of their oath. Nay, so far from being obstinate, he joined in the undertaking. Indeed, he was so remarkable for the gentleness of his disposition, that Archelaus, his partner in the throne, is re- ported to have said to some that were praising the young king, Yes, Charilaus is a good man to be sure, who cannot Jind in his heart to punish the bad. Among the many new institutions of Lycurgus, the first and most important was that of a senate; which sharing, as Plato says,J in the power of the * As Minos had persuaded the Cretans that his laws were delivered to him from Jupiter, so, Lycurgus, his imitator, was willing to make the Spartans believe that he did every- thing by the direction of Apollo. Other legislators have found it very convenient to propagate an opinion, that their institutions were from the gods. For that self-love in hu- man nature, which would but ill have borne with the supe- riority of genius that must have been acknowledged in an unassisted lawgiver, found an ease and satisfaction in ad- mitting his new regulations, when they were said to come from heaven. t That is, the brazen temple. It was standing in the time of Pausanias, who lived in the reign of Marcus Anto- nius. t The passage to which Plutarch refers, is in Plato's third book of laws, where he is examining into the causes of the downfall of states. An Athenian is introduced thus speak- ing to a Lacedaemonian: ' Some god, I believe, in his care for your state, and in his foresight of what would happen, has given you two kings of the same family, in order that reigning jointly, they might govern with the more modera- tion and Sparta experience the greater tranquillity. After this, when the regul authority was grown again too abso- lute and imperious, a divine spirit residing in a human na- ture (t. e. Lycurgus) reduced it within the bounds of equity and moderation, by the wise provision of a senate, whose authority was to be equal to that of the kings." Aristotle finds fault with this circumstance in the institution of the senate, that the senator* were to continue for life; for, as the mind grows old with the body, he thought it unreasona- ble to put the fortunes of the citizens into the power of men who, through age, might become incapable of judging. He likewise thought it very unreasonable that they were not made accountable for their actions. But for the latter inconvenience sufficient provision seems to have been made afterward, by the institmion of the Ephori, who had it chiefly in charge to defend the rights of the people; and therefore Plato adds, "A third blessing to Sparta was the prince, who finding the power of the senate and the kings too arbitrary and uncontrolled, contrived the authority of the Ephori as a restraint upon it," &c. kings, too imperious and unrestrained before, and having equal authority witli them, was the means of keeping them within the bounds of moderation, and highly contributed to the preservation of the state. For before it had been veering and unset- tled, sometimes inclining to arbitrary power, and sometimes toward a pure democracy; but this es- tablishment of a senate, an intermediate body, like ballast, kept it in a just equilibrium, and put it in a safe posture: the twenty-eight senators adhering to the kings, whenever they saw the people too encroach- ing, and, on the other hand, supporting the people t when the kings attempted to make themselves abso- lute. This, according to Aristotle, was the number of Senators fixed upon, because two of the thirty associates of Lycurgus deserted the business through fear. But Sphaerus tells us there were only twenty-eight at first intrusted with the de- sign. Something, perhaps, there is in its being a perfect number, formed of seven multiplied by four, and withal the first number, after six, that is equal to all its parts. But I rather think, just sc many senators were created, that together with the two kings, the whole body might consist of thirty members. He had this institution so much at heart, that he obtained from Delphi an oracle in its behalf, called rhetra, or the decree. This was couched in very ancient and uncommon terms, which, inter- preted, ran thus: When you have built a temple to the Syllanian Jupiter, and the Syllanian Minerva,* divided the people into tribes and classes, and estab- lished a senate of thirty persons, including the two kings, you shall occasionally summon the people to an assembly between Babyce and Cnacion, and they shall have the determining voice. Babyce and Cnacion are now called Oenus. But Aristotle thinks, by Cnacion is meant the river, and by Babyce the bridge. Between these they held their assemblies, having neither halls nor any kind of building for that purpose. These things he thought of no advantage to their councils, hut rather a dis-service; as they distracted the attention, and turned it upon trifles, on observing the statues and pictures, the splendid roofs, and every other theat- rical ornament. The people thus assembled had no right to propose any subject of debate, and were only authorized to ratify or reject what might be proposed to them by the senate and the kings. But because, in process of time, the peo- ple, by additions or retrenchments, changed the terms, and perverted the sense of the decrees, the kings Polydorus and Theopompus inserted in the rhetra this clause. If the people attempt to corrupt any law, the senate and chiefs shall retire: that is, they shall dissolve the assembly, and annul the alterations. And they found means to persuade the Spartans that this too was ordered by Apollo as we learn from these verses of Tyrtaeus: Ye sons of Sparta, who at Phcebus's shrine Your humble vows prefer, attentive hear The god's decision. O'er your beauteous lands Two guardian kings, a senate, and the voice Of the concurring people, lasting laws Shall with joint power establish. Though Ihe government was thus tempered bj Lycurgus, yet soon after it degenerated into an oligarchy, whose power was exercised with such wantonness and violence, that it wanted indeed a bridle, as Plato expresses it. This curb they found LYCURGUS. 49 In the authority of the Ephori,* about a hundred and thirty years after Lycurgus. Elatug was the first invested with this dignity, in the reign of Theo- pompus; who, when his wife upbraided him, that he would leave the regal power to his children less than he received it, replied, Nay, but greater, because more lasting. And, in fact, the preroga- tive, so stripped of all extravagant pretensions, no longer occasioned either envy or danger to its possessors. By these means they escaped the miseries which befell the Messenian and Argive kings, who would not in the least relax the sever- ity of their power in favor of the people. Indeed, from nothing more does the wisdom and foresight Of Lycurgus appear, than from the disorderly governments, and the bad understanding that sub- sisted between the kings and people of Messena and Argos, neighboring states, and related in blood to Sparta. For, as at first they were in all re- spects equal to her, and possessed of a better country, and yet preserved no lasting happiness, but through the insolence of the kings and disobe- dience of the people, were harassed with perpetual troubles, they made it very evident, that it was really a felicity more than human, a blessing from heaven to the Spartans, to have a legislator who knew so well how to frame and temper their go- vernment.f But this was an event of a later date. A second and bolder political enterprise of Ly- curgus, was a new division of the lands. For lie found a prodigious inequality, the city overcharged with many indigent persons, who had no land, and the wealth centered in the hands of a few. Determined, therefore, to root out the evils of insolence, envy, avarice, and luxury, and those distempers of a state still more inveterate and fatal, I mean poverty and riches, he persuaded them to cancel all former divisions of land, and to make new ones, in snch a manner that they might be perfectly equal in their possessions and way of * Herodotus (1. i, c. 65) and Xenophon (De Rcpub, Lac.) tell us, the Kphori were appointed by Lycurgus himself. But the account which Plutarch gives us from Aristotle (Polit. }. v), and others, of their being instituted long af- ter, seems more agreeable to reason. For it is not likely, that Lycurgus, who in all things endeavored to support the aristocracy, and left the people only the right of assenting or dissenting to what was proposed to them, would appoint a kind of tribunes of the people, to be masters as it were both of the kings and the senate. Some, indeed, suppose the Ephori, to have been at first the king's friends, to whom they delegated their authority, when they were obliged to be in the field. But it is very clear that they were elected by the people out of their o\vn body, and sometimes out of the very dregs of it; for the boldest citizen, whoever he was, was most likely to be chosen to this office, which was intended a* a check on the senate and the kings. They were five in number, like the Quinqiicviri in the republic of Carthnge. They were annually elected, and, in order to effect anything, the unanimous voice of the college was re- quisite. Their authority, though well designed at first, came to be in a manner boundless. They presided in popu- Tar assemblies, collected their suffrages, declared war, made peace, treated with foreign princes, determined the number of forces to be raised, appointed the funds to main- tain them, and distributed rewards and punishments in the name of the state. They likewise held a court of justice, inquired into the conduct of all magistrates, inspected into the behavior and education of youth, had a particular jurisdic- tion over the Relates, and in short, by degrees, drew the whole administration into their hands. They even went so far as to put king Agis to death under a form of justice, Mid were themselves at last killed by Cleomenes. t Whatever Plutarch might mean by TAUT* fttv *v tfftfcv, it is certain that kingly power was abolished in the itates of Messene and Argos long before the time of Ly- eurgus, the lawgiver, and a democracy had taken place in those cities. Indeed those states experienced great inter- al troubles, not only while under the government of kings, but when in the form of commonwealths, and never after the time of Lycurgus, made any figure equal to Lace- living. Hence, if they were ambitious of distinction they might seek it in virtue, as no other difference was left between them but that which arises from the dishonor of base actions and the praise of good ones. His proposal was put in practice. He made nine thousand lots for the territory of Sparta which he distributed among so many citizens, and thirty thousand for the inhabitants of the rest of Laconia. But some say he made only six thou- sand shares for the city, and that Polydorus added three thousand afterward; others, that Polydorus doubled the number appointed by Lycurgus, which were only four thousand five hundred. Each lot was capable of producing (one year with another) seventy bushels of grain for each man,* and twelve for each woman, beside a quantity of wine and oil in proportion. Such a provision they thought sufficient for health and a good habit of body, and they wanted nothing more. A story goes of our legislator, that some time after returning from a journey through the fields just reaped, and seeing the shocks standing parallel and equal, he smiled and said to some that were by, How like is Laco- nia to an estate newly divided among many brothers! After this he attempted to divide also the mov- ables, in order to take away all appearance of ine- quality; but he soon perceived that they could not bear to have their goods directly taken from them, and therefore took another method, counter- work- ing their avarice by a stratagern.f First he stopped the currency of the gold and silver coin, and ordered that they should make use of iron money only: then to a great quantity and weight of this he assigned but a small value; so that to lay up ten mines,* a whole room was required, and to re- move it, nothing less than a yoke of oxen. When this became current, many kinds of injustice ceased in Lacedasmon. Who would steal or take a bribe, who would defraud or rob, when he could not con- ceal the booty; when he could neither be dignified by the possession of it, nor if cut in pieces be served by its use? For we are told that when hot, they quenched it in vinegar, to make it brittle and unmalleable, and consequently unfit for any other service. In the next place he excluded unprofita- ble and superfluous arts: indeed, if he had not done this, most of them would have fallen of them- selves, when the new money took place, as the manufactures could not be disposed of. Their iron coin would not pass in the rest of Greece, but waa ridiculed and despised; so that the Spartans had no means of purchasing any foreign or curious wares; nor did any merchant-ship unlade in their harbors. There were not even to be found in all their country either sophists, wandering fortune- tellers, keepers of infamous houses, or dealers La gold and silver trinkets, because there was no money. Thus luxury, losing by degrees the means that cherished and supported it, died away * By a man is meant a master of a family, whose house- hold was to subsist upon these seventy bushels. t For a long time after Lycurgus, the Spartans gloriously opposed the growth of avarice; insomuch, that a young man, who had bought an estate at a great advantage, was called to account for it, and a fine set upon him. For, be- side the injustice he was guilty of in buying a thing for less than it was worth, they judged that he was too desi- rous of gain, since his mind was employed in getting, at an age when others think of nothing but spending. But when the Spartans, no longer satisfied wiih their own territories (as Lycurgus had enjoined them to be), came to be engaged in foreign wars, their money not being passable in other countries, they found themselves obliged to apply to the Persians, whose gold anil silver dazzled tiieir eyes. And their covetousmiss grew at length so infamous, that it occasioned the provetb mentioned by Plato, One man *' great deal of money carried into Laccdunauni, but one sees any of it brought vu.t aga^n. *3lJt'. 5*. MW. sUrliaf . PLUTARCH'S LIVES. f itself: even they who had great possessions, had no advantage from them, s nee they could not be displayed in public, but must lie useless, in un- regarded repositories. Hence it was, that excellent workmanship was shown in their useful and ne- cessary furniture, as beds, chairs, and tables; and the Lacedaemonian cup called cothon, as Critias informs us, was highly valued, particularly in cam- paigns; for the. water which must then of necessity be drank, though it would often otherwise offend the sigiit, had iis muduiness concealed by the color of the cup, and the thick part stopping at the shelving brim, it came clearer to the lips. Of the.se improvements the lawgiver was the cause; for the workmen having no more employment in matters of mere curiosity, shewed the excellence of their art in necessary things. Desirous to complete the conquest of luxury, and exterminate the love of riches, he introduced a third institution, which was wisely enough and ingeniously contrived. This was the use of public tables,* where all were to eat in common of the same meat, and such kinds of it as were appointed by law. At the same time they were forbidden to eat at home, upon expensive couches and tables, to call in the assistance of butchers and cooks, or to fatten like voracious animals in private. For so not only their manners would be corrupted, but their bodies disordered; abandonee! to all manner of sensuality and dissoluteness, they would require long sleep, warm baths, and the same indulgence as in perpetual sickness. To effect this was cer- tainly very great; but it was greater still, to secure riches Jrom rapine and from envy, as Theophras- tus expresses it, or rather by their eating in com- mon, and by the frugality of their table, to take from riches their very being. For what use or enjoyment of them, what peculiar display of mag- nificence could there be, where the poor man went te the same refreshment with the rich? Hence the observation, that it was only at Sparta where Plutus (according to the proverb) was kept blind, and, like an image, destitute of life or motion. It must further be observed, that they had not the privilege to eat at home, and so to come without appetite to the public repast: they made a point of it to observe any one that did not eat and drink with them, and to reproach him as an intemperate and effeminate person that was sick of the com- mon diet. The rich, therefore, (we are told) were more offended with this regulation than with any other, and, rising in a body, they loudly expressed their indignation : nay, they proceeded so far as to as- sault Lycurgus with stones, so that he was forced to fly from the assembly and take refuge in a temple. Unhappily, however, before he reached it, a young man named Alcander, hasty in his re- sentments, though not otherwise ill-tempered, * Xenophon seems to have penetrated farther into the reason of this institution than any other author, as indeed he had hetter opportunity to do: the rest only say, that this wa* intended to repress luxury; but he very wisely remarks, that it was also intended to serve for a kind of school or academy, where the young were instructed by the old, the former relating the great things that had been performed within their memory, and thereby exciting the growing generation to distinguish themselves by performances equally great. But as it was found impracticable for all the citizens to eat in common, when the number of them came to exceed the number of bhe lots of land, Dacier thinks it might have been better if the lawgiver had ordained that those public tables should be maintained at the expense of the public, as it was done in Crete. But it must be considered, that while the discipline of Lycurgus was kept up in its purity, they provided against any inconvenience from the increase of citizens, by sending out colonies, and Lacedaemon was not burdened with poor until the declension of that state. I came up with him, and, upon his turning round, 'struck out one of his eyes with a stick. Lycu t> - gus then stopped short, and, without giving way to passion, showed the people his eye beat out, and his lace streaming with blood. They were so struck with shame and sorrow at the sight, that they surrendered Alcander to him, and conducted him home with the utmost expressions of regret. Lycurgus thanked them for their care of his per- son, and dismissed them all except Alcandor. He took him into Ins hou.se but showed him no ilJ I treatment either by word or action; only ordering him to wait upon him, instead of hi.s usual ser- vants and attendants. The youth, who was of ai ingenuous disposition, without murmuring, did a? he was commanded. Living in tSiis manner will Lycurgus, and having an opportunity to observe the mildness and goodness of his heart, his stric temperance and indefatigable industry, he told 1m friends that Lycurgus was not that proud am severe man he might have been taken for, but. above all others, gentle and engaging in his beha vior. This, then, was the chastisement, and this punishment he suffered, of a wild and headstrong young man to become a very modest and prudent citizen. In memory of his misfortune, Lycurgua built a temple to Minerva Optiietis, so called by him from a term which the Dorians use for the eye. Yet Dioscorides, who wrote a treatise con- cerning the Lacedaemonian government, and others, relate, that his eye was hurt, but not put out, and that he built the temple in gratitude to the goddess for his cure. However, the Spartans never carried staves to their assemblies afterward. The public repasts were called by the Cretans Andria; but the Lacedaemonians styled them Phi- ditia, either from their tendency to friendship and mutual benevolence, phiditia being used instead of philitia; or else from their teaching frugality and parsimony, which the word pheido signifies. But it is not at all impossible, that the first letter might by some means or other be added, and so phiditia take place of editia, which barely signifies eating. There were fifteen persons to a table, or a few more or less. Each of them was obliged to bring in monthly a bushel of meal, eight gallons of wine, five pounds of cheese, two pounds and a half of figs, and a little money to buy flesh and fish. If any of them happened to offer a sacrifice of first fruits, or to kill venison, he sent a part of it to the public table; for after a sacrifice or hunting, lie was at liberty to sup at home: but the rest were to appear at the usual place. For a long time this eating in common was observed with great exact- ness: so that when king Agis returned from a successful expedition against the Athenians, and from a desire to sup with his wife, requested to hsve his portion at home,* the Polemarchs refused to send it:f nay, when through resentment, he neglected, the day following, to offer the sacrifice usual on occasion of victory, they set a fine upon him. Children also were introduced at these pub- lic tables, as so many schools of sobriety. There they heard discourses concerning government, and were instructed in the most liberal breeding. There they were allowed to jest without scur- rility, and were not to take it ill when the raillery was returned. For it was reckoned worthy of a * The kings of Sparta had always double commons al lowed them; not that they were permitted to indulge theii appetites more than others", but that they might have an op- portunity of sharing their portion with some brave ma whom they chose to distinguish with that honor. t The i'olcmarchs were those who had commanded thi army under the kings. The principal men in the state Al- ways divided the commons. LYCURGUS. 51 Lacedamonian to beer a jest: but if any one's pa- uence failed, he had only to desire them to be quiet, and they left off immediately. When they first entered, the oldest man present pointed to the door, and said, Not a word spoken in this company goes out there. The admitting of any man to a particular table was under the following regula- tion. Each member of that small society took a little ball of soft bread in his hand. This he was to drop, without saying a word, into a vessel called caddos, which the waiter carried upon his head. In case he approved of the candidate, he did it without altering the figure, if not, he first pressed it flat in his hand; for a flatted ball was considered as a negative. And if but one such was found, the person was not admitted, as they thought it proper that the whole company should be satisfied witii each other. He who was thus rejected, was said to have no luck in the caddos. The dish that was in the highest esteem among them was the black broth. The old men were so fond of it that they ranged themselves on one side and eat it, leaving the meat to the young people. It is re- lated of a king of Pontus,* that he purchased a Lacedaemonian cook, for the sake of this broth. But when he came to taste it, he strongly express- ed his dislike; and the cook made answer, Sir, to m/ike this broth relish, it is necessary first to bathe in the Eurotas. After they had drank moderately, they went home without lights. Indeed, they were forbidden to walk with a light either on this or any other occasion, that they might accustom them- selves to march in the darkest night boldly and resolutely. Such was the order of their public repasts. Lycurgus left none of his laws in writing; it was ordered in one of the Rhetra that none should be written. For what he thought most condu- cive to the virtue and happiness of a city, was prin- ciples interwoven with the manners and breeding of the people. These would remain immovable, as founded in inclination, and be the strongest and most lasting tie; and the habits which education produced in the youth, would answer in each the purpose of a lawgiver. As for smaller matters, contracts about property, and whatever occasion- ally varied, it was better not to reduce these to a written form and unalterable method, but to suffer them to change with the times, and to admit of additions or retrenchments at the pleasure of per- sons so well educated. For he resolved the whole business of legislation into the bringing up of youth. And this, as we have observed, was the reason why one of his ordinances forbad them to have any written laws. Another ordinance leveled against magnificence and expense, directed that the ceilings of houses should be wrought with no tool but the ax. and 'he doors with nothing but the saw. For, as Epaminondas is reported to have said afterward, of liis table, Treason lurks not under such a dinner, so Lycurgus perceived before him, that such a house admits of no luxury and needless splendor. Indeed, no man could be so absurd, as to bring into a dwelling so homely and simple, bedsteads with silver feet, purple coverlets, golden cups, and a train of expense that follows these, but all would necessarily have the bed suitable to the room, the coverlet of the bed and the rest of their utensils and furniture to that. From this plain sort of dwellings, proceeded the question of Leotychidas the elder to his host, when he supped at Corinth, * This story is elsewhere told by Plutarch of Dionysius he tyraat of Sicily: and Cicero confirms it, that he was the and saw the ceiling of the room very splendid and curiously wrought, Whether trees grew square in his country.* A third ordinance of Lycurgus was, that they should not often make war against the same enemy, lest, by being frequently put upon defending themselves, they too should become abl warriors in their turn. And this they most blam- ed king Agesilaus for afterward, that by frequent and continued incursions into Bceotia,f he taught the Thebans to make head against the Lacedeerno- nians. This made Antalcidas say, when he saw him wounded, The Thebans pay you well for nut- king them good soldiers who neither were willing nor able to fight you btfore. These ordinances he called Rhetrce, as if they had been oracles and decrees of the Deity himself. As for the education of youth, which he looked upon as the greatest and most glorious work of a lawgiver, he began with it at the very source, ta- king into consideration their conception and birth, by regulating the marriages. For he did not (as Aristotle says) desist from his attempt to bring the women under sober rules. They had, indeed, assumed great liberty and power on account of the frequent expeditions of their husbands, during which they were left sole mistresses at home, and so gained an undue deference and im- proper titles; but notwithstanding this he took all possible care of them. He ordered the virgins to exercise themselves in running, wrestling, and throwing quoits and darts; that their bodies being strong and vigorous, the children afterward produced from them might be the same, and that, thus fortified by exercise, they might the better support the pangs of child-birth, and be delivered with safety. In order to take away the excessive tenderness and delicacy of the sex, the conse- quence of a recluse life, he accustomed the virgins occasionally to be seen naked as well as the young men, and to dance and sing in their presence on certain festivals. There they sometimes indulged in a little raillery upon those that had misbehaved themselves, and sometimes they sung encomiums on such as deserved them, thus exciting in the young men a useful emulation and love of glory. For he who was praised for his bravery and cele- brated among the virgins, went away perfectly happy: while their satirical glances, thrown out in sport, were no less cutting than serious admoni- tions; especially as the kings and senate went with the other citizens to see all that passed. As for the virgins appearing naked, there was nothing dis- graceful in it, because everything was conducted with modesty, and without one indecent word or action. Nay it caused a simplicity of manners and an emulation for the best habit of body; their ideas too were naturally enlarged, while they were not excluded from their share of bravery and hon- or. Hence they were furnished with sentiments and language, such as Gorgo the wife of LeOnidas is said to have made use of. When a woman of another country said to her, You of Lacedamon are the only women in the world that rule the men: she answered, We are the only women that bring forth men. These public dances and other exercises of the young maidens naked, in sight of the young men, were, moreover, incentives to marriage: and, to * This is rendered by the former English translator, as if Leotychidas's question proceeded from ignorance, whereaj it was really an arch sneer upon the sumptuous and expen- sive buildings of Corinth. t This appeared plainly at the battle of Leuctra, where the Lacedaemonians were overthrown by Epaminondas, and lost their king Cleombrotus, together with the Sower of their army. 52 FLU T A RCH'S LIVES. use Plato'? expression, drew them almost as neces- sarily by ttie attractions of lovo, as a geometrical conclusion follows from the premises. To encour- ige it still more, some marks of infamy were set upon those that continued bachelors.* For they were not permitted to see these exercises of Hie naked virgins; and the magistrates commanded ty-bearing soil, he might produce excellent chil- dren, the congenial offspring of excellent parents. For, in the first place, Lycurgus considered chil- dren, not so much the property of their parents, as of the state; and therefore he would not have them begot by ordinary persons, but by the best men in it. lu the next place, he observed the vanity and absurdity of other na. ons, where peo- ple study to have their horses anr dogs of the finest breed they can procure either by interest or mon- ey; and yet keep their wives shut up, that they may have children by none but themselves, though they may happen to be doting, decrijpid, or infirm. As if children, when sprung from a bad stock, and consequently good for nothing, were no detriment to those whom they belong to, and who have the trouble of bringing them up, nor any ad- vantage, when well descended and of a generous disposition. These regulations tending to secure a healthy offspring, and consequently beneficial to the state, were so far from encouraging that licentiousness of the women which prevailed after- ward, that adultery was not known among them. A saying, upon this subject, of Geradas, an an- cient Spartan, is thus related. A stranger had asked him, What punishment their law appointed for adulterers? He answered, My friend, there are no adulterers in our country. The replied, them to march naked round the market-place in the winter, and to sing a song composed against themselves, which expressed how justly they were punished for their disobedience to the laws. They were also deprived of thathonorand respect which the younger people paid to the old; so that nobody found fault with what was said to Dercyliidas, though an eminent commander. It seems, when he came one day into company, a young man, instead of rising upand giving place, told him, You have no child to yive place to me, when I am old. In their marriages, the bridegroom carried off the bride by violence; and she was never chosen in a tender age, but when she had arrived at full maturity. Then the woman that had the direction of the wedding, cut the bride's hair close to the skin, dressed her in man's clothes, laid her upon a mattress, and left her in the dark. The bridegroom, neither oppressed with wine nor enervated with luxury, but perfectly sober, as having always sup- ped at the common table, went in privately, untied her girdle, and carried her to another bed. Having staid there a short time, he modestly retired to his usual apartment, to sleep with the other young men; and observed the same conduct afterward, spending the day with his companions, and repos- ing himself with them in the night, noreven visiting his bride but with great caution and apprehensions of being discovered by the rest of the family; the bride at the same time exerted all her art to con- trive convenient opportunities for their private meetings. And this they did not. for a short time only, but some of them even had children before they had an interview with their wives in the day time. This kind of commerce not only exercised their temperance and chastity, but kept their bod- ies fruitful, and the first ardor of their love fresh and unabated; for as they were not satiated like those that are always with their wives, there still was place for unextinguished desire. When he had thus established a proper regard to modesty and decorum with respect to marriage, he was equal- ly studious to drive from that state the vain and womanish passion of jealousy; by making it quite as reputable to have children in common with persons of merit, as to avoid all offensive freedom in their own behavior to their wives. He laugh- ed at those who revenge with wars and bloodshed the communication of a married woman's favors; and allowed, that if a man in years should have a young wife, he might introduce to her some hand- some and honest young man, whom he most ap- proved of, and when she had a child of this gene- rous race, bring it up as his own. On the other hand he allowed, that if a man of character should I ly crying. Hence people of other countries pur- entertain a passion for a married woman on ac- 1 chased Lacedemonian nurses for their children; count of her modesty and the beauty of her chil-l and Alcibiades the Athenian is said to have been dren, he might treat with her husband for admis- Bitt what if there should be one? Why then, says Geradas, he must forfeit abuUso large that he might drink of the Eurotasfrom the top of Mount Taygetus. When the stranger expressed his surprise at this, and said, How can such a bull be found? Geradas answered with a smile, How can an adulterer be found in Sparta! This is the account we have of their marriages. It was not left to the father to rear what chil- dren he pleased, but he was obliged to carry the child to a place called Lesche, to be examined by the most ancient men of the tribe, who were as- sembled there. If it was strong and well propor- tioned, they gave orders for its education, and assigned it one of the nine thousand shares of land; but if it was weakly and deformed, they ordered it to be thrown into the place called Apotheta, which is a deep cavern near the mountain Tayge- tus; concluding that its life could be no advantage either to itself or to the public, since nature had not given it at first any strength or goodness of constitution.* For the same reason the women did not wash their new-born infants with water t but with wine, thus making some trial of their habit of body; imagining that sickly and epileptic children sink and die under the experiment, while healthy became more vigorous and hardy. Great care and art was also exerted by the nurses; for, as they never swathed the infants, their limbs had a freer turn, and their countenances a more liberal air; beside, they used them to any sort of meat, to have no terrors in the dark, nor to be afraid of being alone, and to leave all ill humor and unman- sion to her company,! that so planting in a beau- * The time of marriage wa* fixed; and if a man did not marry when he was of full age, he was liable to a prosecu- tion; a& were such also who married above or below them- selves. Such as had three children had great immunities; and those that had four were free from all taxes. Virgins were married without portions, because neither want should hinder a man, nor riches induce him, to marry contrary to his inclinations. t In this case the kings were excepted. for they were not t liberty to lead their wiri. nursed by Amicla, a Spartan. But if he was for- tunate in a nurse, he was not so in a preceptor: for Zopyrus, appointed to that office by Pericles, * The general expediency of this law may well be dis- puted, though it suited the martial constitution of^Sparta; since many persons of weak constitutions make up in inge- nuity what they want in strength, and so become more val- uable members of the community than the most robust. It seems however, to have had one good effect, viz., mak- ing women very carernl, during their pregnancy, of either eating, drinking or exercising to excess, it made them alM excellent nurses, as is observed iusi below. LYCURGUS. 53 was, as Plato tells us, no better qualified than a common slave. The Spartan children were not in that manner, under tutors purchased or hired with money, nor were the parents at liberty to ed- ucate them as they pleased: but as soon as they Were seven years old, Lycurgus ordered them to be enrolled in companies, where they were all kept under the same order and discipline, and had their exercises and recreations in common. He who showed the most conduct and courage among them, was made captain of the company. The rest kept their eyes upon him, obeyed his orders, and bore with patience the punishment he inflict- ed: so that their whole education was an exercise of obedience. The old men were present at their diversions, and often suggested some occasion of dispute or quarrel, that they might observe with exactness the spirit of each, and their firmness in battle. As for learning,* they had just what was abso- lutely necessary. All the rest of their education was calculated to make them subject to command, to endure labor, to fight and conquer. They ad- ded, therefore, to their discipline, as they advanced in age; cutting their hair very close, making them C barefoot, and play, for the most part, quite na- d. At twelve years of age, their under garment was taken away, and but one upper one a year allowed them. Hence they were necessarily dirty in their persons, and not indulged the great favor of baths, and oils, except on some particular days of the year. They slept in companies, on beds made of the tops of reeds, which they gathered with their own hands, without knives, and brought from the banks of the Eu rotas. In winter they were per- mitted to add a little thistle-down, as that seemed to have some warmth in it. At this age, the most distinguished among them became the favorite companions of the el- der;t and the old men attended more constantly their places of exercise, observing their trials of strength and wit, not slightly and in a cursory manner, but as their fathers, guardians, and go- vernors: so that there was neither time nor place, where persons were wanting to instruct and chas- tise them. One of the best and ablest men of the city was, moreover, appointed inspector of the youth: and he gave the command of each company to the discreetest and most spirited of those called * The plainness of their manners, and Iheir being so very much addicted to war, made the Laceditmonians less fond of the sciences than the rest of the Greeks. If they wrote to he read, and spoke to he understood, it was all they sought. For this the Athenians, who were excessively vain of their learning, held them in great contempt; inso"- much that Thucydides himself, in drawing the character of Brasidas, says, He spoke well enough for a Lacedaemonian. On this occasion, it is proper to mention the answer of a Spartan to a learned Athenian, who upbraided him with the ignorance of his country; ML you say may be true, and yet it amounts to no more, ilian that we only among tlie Greeks hai^e learned no evil customs from you. The Spartans, how- ever, had a force and poignancy of expression, which cut down all the flowers of studied elegance. This was the consequence of their concise way of speaking, and their encouraging, on all occasions, decent repartee. Arts were in no greater credit with them than sciences. Theatri- cal diversions found no countenance; temperance and ex- ercise made the physician unnecessary; their justice left no room for the practice of the lawyer; and all the trades that minister to luxury were unknown. As for agriculture, and such mechanic business as was absolutely necessary, it was left to the slaves. T" Though the youth of the male sex were much cherished and beloved as those that were to build up the future glory of the state, yet in Sparta it was a virtuous and modest affection, untinged with that sensuality which was so scan- dalous at Athens and other places. Xenophon says, these lovers lived with tho^e they were attached to, as" a father does with his children, or a brother with his brethren. The good effects of this part of Lycurgus's institutions were een in the union, that reigned among the citizens. Irens. An Iren was one that had been two years out of the class of boys: a Mettiren one of the old- est lads. This Iren, then, a youth twenty years old, gives orders to those under his command, in their little battles, and has them to serve him at his house. He sends the oldest of them to fetch wood, and the younger to gather pot-herbs: these they steal where they can find them,* either slily getting into gardens, or else craftily and warily creeping to the common tables. But if any one be caught, he is severely flogged for negligence or want of dexterity. They steal too, whatever victuals they possibly can, ingeniously contriving to do it when persons are asleep, or keep but indifferent watch. If they are discovered, they are punished not only with whipping, but with hunger. Indeed, their sup- per is but slender at all times, that, to fence against want, they may be forced to exercise their courage and address. This is the first intention of their spare diet: a subordinate one is, to make them grow tall. For when the animal spirits are not too much op- pressed by a great quantity of food, which stretches itself out in breadth and thickness, they mount upward by their natural lightness, and the body easily and freely shoots up in hight. This also contributes to make them handsome; for thin and slender habits yield more freely to nature, which then gives a fine proportion to the limbs; whilo the heavy and gross resist her by their weight. So women that take physic during their pregnan- cy, have slighter children indeed, but of a finer and more delicate turn, because the suppleness of the matter more readily obeys the plastic power. However, these are speculations which we shaiU leave to others. The boys steal with so much caution, that one of them having conveyed a young fox under his garment, suffered the creature to tear out his bowels with his teeth and claws, choosing rather to die than to be detected. Nor does this appear incredible, if we consider what their young men can endure to this day; for we have seen many of them expire under the lash at the altar of Diana OrthiaJ The Iren, reposing himself after supper, used to order one of the boys to sing a song; to another he put some question which required a judicious answer: for example, Who was the best man in the city? or, What lif. thought of such an action? This ac- customed them from their childhood to judge of the virtues, to enter into the affairs of their country- men. For if one of them was asked, Who is a good citizen, or who an infamous one, and hesita- ted in his answer, he was considered a boy of slow parts, and of a soul that would not aspire to honor. The answer was likewise to have a reason assigned * Not that the Spartans authorized thefts and robberies, for as all was in common in their republic, those vices could have no place there. But the design was to accustom children who were destined for war, to surprise the vigi- lance of those who watched over them, and to expose them.^lves courageously to the severest punishments, in case they failed of that dexterity which was exacted of them, a dexterity that would have been attended with fatal effects to the morals of any youth but the Spartan, edu- cated as that was, to contemn riches and superfluities, and guarded in all other respects by the severest virtue. t This is supposed to be the Diana Taurico, whose sta- tue Orestes is said to have brought to Lacedaemon, and t whom human victims were offered. It is pretended that Lyoargai abolished these sacrifices, and substituted in their room the flagellation of young men, with whose blood the altar was, at least, to be'sprinkled. But, in truth, a desire of overcoming the weaknesses of human nature, and thereby rendering his Spartans not only superior to their neighbors, but to their species, runs through many of the institutions of Lycurgus; which principle, it well a'ttended to, thoroughly explains them, and without attending to which it is impossible to give any account at all of some of them. 54 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. for it and proof conceived in few words. He whose account of the matter was wrong, by way of pun- ishment, had his thumb bit by the Iren. The old men and magistrates often attended these little trials, to see whether the Iren exercised his autho- rity in a rational and proper manner. He was permitted, indeed, to'inflict the penalties; but when the boys were gone, he was to be chastised himself, if he had punished them either with too much se- verity or remissness. The adopters of favorites also shared both in the honor and disgrace of their boys: and one of them is said to have been mulcted by the magistrates, because the boy whom he had taken into his af- fections let some ungenerous word or cry escape him as he was fighting. This love was so honora- ble, and in so much esteem, that the virgins too had their lovers among the most virtuous matrons. A competition of affection caused no misunder- standing, but rather a mutual friendship between those that had fixed their regards upon the same youth, and an united endeavor to make him as accomplished as possible. The boys were also taught to use sharp repar- tee, seasoned with humor, and whatever they said was to be concise and pithy. For Lycurgus, as we have observed, fixed but a small value on a considerable quantity of his iron money; but on the contrary, the worth of speech was to consist in its being comprised in a few plain words, preg- nant with a greatdeal of sense: and he contrived that by long silence they might learn to be senten- tious and acute in their replies. As debauchery often causes weakness and sterility in the body, so the intemperance of the tongue makes conver- sation empty and insipid. King Agis, therefore, when a certain Athenian laughed at the Lacede- monian short swords, and said, The jugglers would swallow them with ease upon the stage, answered in his laconic way, And yet we can reach our enemies' hearts with them. Indeed, to nie there seems to be something in this concise manner of speaking which immediately reaches the object aimed at, and forcibly strikes the mind of the hearer. Ly- curgus himself was short and sententious in his discourse, if we may judge by some of his answers which are recorded; that, for instance, concerning the constitution. When one advised him to estab- lish a popular government in Lacedaemon, Go, said he, and first make a trial of it in thy own fami- ly- That again, concerning sacrifices to the Deity, when he was asked why he appointed them so tri- fling and of so little val ue, That we might never be in want, said he, of something to offer him. Once more, when they inquired of him, what sort of martial exercises he allowed of, he answered, All, except those in which you stretch* out your hands. Several such like replies of his are said to be taken from the letters which he wrote to his countrymen: as to their question, "How shall we best guard against the invasion of an enemy?" By continu- ing poor, and not desiring in your possessions to be one above another. And to the question, whether they should enclose Sparta with walls? That city is well fortified, which has a wall of men instead of brick. Whether these and some other letters as- cribed to him are genuine or not, is no easy matter to determine. However, that they hated long speeches, the following apophthegms are a farther proof. King Leonicias said to one who discoursed at an improper time about affairs of some con- cern, My friend, you should not talk so much to the purpose, of what it is not to the purpose to talk of. Charilaus, the nephew of Lycurgus, being asked * This was the form of demanding quarter in battle. why his uncle had made so few laws, answered To men of few words, few laws are sufficient. Some people finding fault with Hecataeus the sophist, because, when admitted to one of the public repasts, he said nothing all the time, Archidamidas replied, He that knows how to speak, knows also when to speak. The manner of their repartees, which, as I said, were seasoned with humor, may fo gathered from these instances. When a troublesome fellow wag pestering Demaratus with impertinent questions, and this in particular several times repeated, "Who is the best man in Sparta?" He answered, He that is least like you. To some who were com- mending the Eleans for managing the Olympic games with so much justice and propriety, Agis said, What great matter is it, if the Eleans do jus- tice once in five years? When a stranger was pro- fessing his regard for Theopompus, and saying that his own countrymen called him Philolacon (a lover of the Lacedaemonians), the king answered him, My good friend, it were much better if they called you Philopolites (a lover of your own coun- trymen). Plistonax, the son of Pausanias, replied to an orator of Athens, who said the Lacedtemo- nians had no learning, True, for we are the only people of Greece that have learned no ill of you. To one who asked what number of men there were in Sparta, Archidamidas said, Enough to keep bad men at a distance. Even when they indulged a vein of pleasantry, one might perceive, that they would not use one unnecessary word, nor let an expression escape them that had not some sense worth attending to. For one being asked to go and hear a person who imitated the nightingale to perfection, answered, / have heard the nightingale herself. Another said upon reading this epitaph, Victims of Mars, at Selinus they fell, Who quenched the rage of tyranny. "And they deserved to fall, for, instead of quench- ing it, they should have let it burn o." A young man answered one that promised him some game- cocks that would stand their death, Give me those that will be the death of others. Another seeing some people carried into the country in litters said, May I never sit in any place where I cannot rise before the aged! This was the manner of their apophthegms: so that it has been justly enough observed that the term lakonizein (to act the Lace- daemonian) is to be referred rather to the exer- cises of the mind, than those of the body. Nor were poetry and music less cultivated among them, than a concise dignity of expression. Their songs had a spirit, which could rouse the soul, and impel it in an enthusiastic manner to action. The language was plain and manly, the subject, serious and moral. For they consisted chiefly of the praises of heroes that had died for Sparta, or else of expressions of detestation for such wretches as had declined the glorious oppor- tunity, and rather chose to drag on life in misery and contempt. Nor did they forget to express an ambition for glory suitable to their respective ages. Of this it may not be amiss to give an instance. There were three choirs on their festivals, corres- ponding with the three ages of man. The old men began, Once in battle bold we shone; the young men answered, Try ns; our vigor is not gone, and the boys concluded, The palm remains for us alone. Indeed, if we consider with some attention such of the Lacedemonian poems as are still extant, LYCURGUS. 55 rind jri'l. info those airs which were played upon | the flut" when they marched to battle, we must ayrec that Terpunder* and Pindar have very fitly joined valor and music together. The former thus speaks of Lacedaemon, There gleams the youth's bright falchion: there the mine lafts her sweet voice; there awful Justice opes Her wnle pavilion. And Pindar sings, There in grave council sits the sage: There burns the youth's resistless rage To hurl the quiv'ring lance; The .Muse with glory crowns their arms, And Melody exerts her '.'harms, And pleasure leads the dance. Thus we are informed, not only of their warlike turn, but their skill in music. For as the Spartan poet says, To swell the bold notes of the lyre, Be.iomes the warrior's lofty fire'. And the king always offered sacrifice to the musesf before a battle, putting his troops in mind, I suppose, of their early education and of the judg- ment that would he passed upon them; as well as that those divinities might teach them to despise danger while they performed some exploit fit for them to celebrate. On these occasions} they relaxed the severity of their discipline, permitting their men to be curi- ous in dressing their hair, and elegant in their arms and apparel, while they expressed their alac- rity, like horses full of fire and neighing for the race. They let their hair, therefore, grow from their youth, but took more particular care, when tiiey expected an action, to have it well combed and shining; remembering a saying of Lycurgus that a large head oj hair made the handsome more graceful and the ugly more terrible. The exer- cises too, of the young men during the cam- paigns, were more moderate, their diet not so hard, and their whole treatment more indulgent: so that they were the only people in the world, with whom military discipline wore in time of war, a gentler face than usual. When the army was drawn up, and the enemy near, the king sa- crificed a goat, and commanded them, all to set garlands upon their heads, and the musicians to play Castro's march, while himself began the p&an, which was the signal to advance. It was at once a solemn and dreadful sight to see them measuring their steps to the sound of music, and without the least disorder in their ranks or tumult of spirits, moving forward cheerfully and cornpo- uedly, with harmony to battle. Neither fear nor rashness was likely to approve men so disposed, possessed as they were of a firm presence of mind, Terpander was a poet and musician too (as indeed they of those times were in general), who added three strings to the harp, which until then had but four. He flourished about a hundred and twenty years afier Homer. tXenophon say's the king who commanded the army sa- crificed to Jupiter and Minerva on the frontier of his king- dom. Probably the muses were joined with Minerva, the patroness of science. J The true reason of this was, in all probability, that war might be less burthensome to them; for to render them bold and warlike was the reigning passion of trteir legislator. Under this article, we may add, that they were forbidden to remain long encamped in the same place, as well to hinder their being surprUed, as that they mignt be more trouble- some to their enemies, by wasting every corner of their country. They were also forbidden to fight the same enemy often. They slept all night in their armor; but their out- guards ware not allowed their shields, that, being unpro- vided of defense, they might not dare to sleep. In all ex- peditions they were careful in the performance of religious rites; and after their evening meal was over, the soldiers sang together hymns to their gods. with courage and confidence of success, as under the conduct of heaven. When the king advanced against the enemy, he had always with him some one that had been crowned in the public games of Greece. And they tell us, that a Lacedaemonian, when large sums were offered him on condition that he would not enter the (tlympic lists, refused them: having with much difficulty thrown his antagonist, one pntthis question to him, "Spartan what will you get by this victory?" He answered with a smile, / shall have the honor to Ji (/ht foremost in Ihe ranks before my prince. When they had routed the enemy, they continued the pursuit un- til they were assured of the victory: after that they immediately desisted; deeming it neither generous nor worthy of a Grecian to destroy those who made no farther resistance. This was not only a proof of magnanimity, but of great service to their cause. For when their adversaries found that they killed such as stood it out, but spared the fugitives, they concluded it was better to fly than to meet their fate upon the spot. Hippias the sophist tells us, that Lycurgus him- self was a man of great personal valor, and an experienced commander.* Philostephanus also ascribes to him the first division of cavalry into troops of fifty, who were drawn up in a square body. But Demetrius the Phalcrean says, that he never had any military employment, and that there was the profoundest peace imaginable when he established the constitution of Sparta. His providing for a cessation of arms during the Olympic games is likewise a mark of the humane and peaceable man. Some, however, acquaint us, and among the rest Hermippus, that Lycurgus at first had no communication with Iphitus; but corning that way, and happening to be a specta- tor, he heard behind him a human voice (as he thought) which expressed some wonder and dis- pleasure that he did not put his countrymen upon resorting to so great an assembly. He turned round immediately, to discover whence the voice came, and as there was no man to be seen, con- cluded it was from heaven. He joined Iphitus, therefore; and ordering, along with him, the cere- monies of the festival, rendered it more magnifi- cent and lasting. The discipline of the Lacedemonians continued after they were arrived at years of maturity. For no man was at liberty to live as he pleased; the city being like one great camp, where all had their stated allowance, and knew their public charge, each man concluding that he. was born, not for himself , but for his country. Hence if they had no particular orders, they employed themselves in inspecting the boys, and teaching them something useful, or in learning of those that were older than themselves. One of the greatest privileges that Lycurgus procured for his countrymen, was the enjoyment of leisure, the conseque'nce of his forbidding them to exercise any mechanic trade. It was not worth their while to take great pains to raise a fortune, since riches there were of no account: and the Helotes, who tilled the ground, were an- swerable for the produce above mentioned. To this purpose we have a story of a Lacedaemonian who, happening to be at Athens where thecourt sat, was informed of a man who was fined for idleness; and when the poor fellow was returning home in great dejection, attended by his condoling friends, he desired the company to show him the person * Xenophon, in his treatise of the Spartan common- wealth, says, Lycurgus brought military discipline to great perfection, and gives us a detail of his regulations and im- provement in the art of war; some of whic.h I have men- tioned in the foregoing note. 56 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. that wae condemned for keeping up his dignity. So much beneath them they reckoned all attention to mechanic arts, and all desire of riches! Lawsuits were banished from Lacedasmon with money. The Spartans knew neither riches nor poverty, but possessed an equal competency, and had a cheap and easy 1 way of supplying their few wants. Hence, when they were not engaged in war, their time was taken up with dancing, feast- ing, hunting, or meeting to exercise, or con- verse. They went not to market under thirty years of age,* all their necessary concerns being managed by their relations and adopters. Nor was it reckoned a credit to the old to be seen sauntering in the market-place; it was deemed more suitable for them to pass great part of the day in the schools of exercise, or places of con- versation. Their discourse seldom turned upon money, or business, or trade, but upon the praise of the excellent, or the contempt of the worthless; and the lust \ f an expressed with that pleasantry and humor, wh. ; ch conveyed instruction and cor- rection without seaming to intend it. Nor was Lycurgus himself immoderately severe in his man- ner; but, as Sosibius tells us, he dedicated a little statue to the god of laughter in each hall, fie considered facet iunsneis as a seasoning of the hard exercise and >iiet, and therefore ordered it to take place on all proper occasions, in their common entertainments and parties of p!e.\s,ue. Upon the whole, he taught his citizens to tlidik nothing more disagreeable than to live by (or for) themselves. Like bees, they acted with one im- pulse for the public good, and always assernoled about their prince. They were possessed with a thirst of honor and enthusiasm bordenng upon insanity, and had not a wish but for thevr country. These sentiments are confirmed by some of their aphorisms. When PajJaretuslost his election for one of the three hundred, he went away tluit there were three hundred better men himself found in the city.j, Pisistratidas with some others, ambassador to the king of Pe sia's lieutenants, was asked whether they caixio with a public commission, or on their own ac- eount, to which he answered, If successful for iht public; if unsuccessful, for ourselves. Agrileoim, the mother of Brasidas, J asking some Arnphipo- litans that waited upon her at her house, whether Brasidas died honorably and as became a Spartan? they greatly extolled his merit, and said there was not such a man left in Sparta; whereupon she replied, Say not so, my friends; for Brasidas was indeed a man of honor, but Lacedamon can boast of many better jnen than he. The senate, as I suid before, consisted at first of those that were assistants to Lycurgus in his great enterprise. Afterward, to fill up any vacancy that might happen, he orderej the most worthy men to be selected, of those that were full threescore years old. This was the most respectable dis- pute in the world, and the contest was truly glo- rious : for it was not who should be the swiftest among the swift, or strongest of the strong, but who * This also is said to have been the age when they be-ran to serve in the army. But as they were obliged to forty years' service before the law exempted them from going into the field, 1 incline to the opinion of those writers who think that the military age is not well ascertained. t Xenophon says, it was the custom for the cphori to ap- point three officers, each of whom was to select a hundred men, the best he could find; and it svas a point of great emulation to be one of these three hundred. t Brasidas, the Lacedaemonian general, defeated the Athenians in a battle fought near Amphipolis, a town of Macedonia, on the banks of the Strymon, but kit his life in the action. TAucydid. lib. v. was the wisest and best among the good and wise He who had the preference wus to bear this mark of superior excellence through life, this great au- thority, which put into his hands the lives and honor of the citizens, and every other important affair. The manner of the election was this; When the people were assembled, some persona appointed for the purpose were shut up in a roem near the place; where they could neither see nor be seen, and only hear the shouts of the constitu- ents:* for by them they decided this and most other affairs. Each candidate walked silently through the assembly, one after another, according to lot Those that were shut up had writing tables, in which they set down in different columns the number and loudness of the shouts, without know- ing who they were for; only they marked them as first, second, third, and so on, according to the number of the competitors. He that had the most and loudest acclamations, was declared duly elect- ed. Then he was crowned with a garland, and went round to give thanks to the gods, a number of young men followed, striving whn-ch should extol him most, and the women celebrated his virtues in their songs, and blessed his worthy life and conduct. Each of his relations offered him a repast, and their address on the occasion was, Sparta honors you with this collation. Wl*en he had finished the procession, he went to the com- mon table, and lived as before. Only two portions were set before him, one of which he carried away : and as all the women related to him attended at the gates of the public hall, he called her for whom h-e had the greatest esteem, and presented her with the portion, saying at the same time, That which. I received as a mark of honor, I give to you. Then she was conducted home with great applause by the rest of the women. Lycurgus likewise made good regulations with respect to burials. In the first place, to take away all superstition, he ordered the dead to be buried in the city, and even permitted their monuments to be erected near the temples; accustoming the youth to such sights from their infancy, that they n.Mght have no uneasiness from them, nor any hor- ror for death, as if people were polluted with the tcuch of a dead body, or with treading upon a g,To. ve. In the next place, he suffered nothing to be bun^d with the corpse, except the red cloth and the oHv e leaves in which it was wrapped-! Nor would he s.iller the relation to inscribe any names upon the kmbs, except of those men that fell in battle, or tho^'e women who di^d in some sacred office. He Mved eleven days for the time of mourning: on ih,^ 'weifth they were to put an end to it, after offering sacrifice to Ceres. No part of life was left vacantj.no! unimproved, but even with their neces- sary acU.tns he interwove the praise of virtue and the concern pt of vice: and he so filled the city with living exu.iplcs, that it was next to impossible, for persons iv ho had these from their infancy before their eye.', not to be drawn and formed to honor. For the vime reason he would rurt permit all that do-sin u u . to go abroad and see other countries, lest they ih>uld contract foreign manners, gain traces of a .'u < of little discipline, and of a differ- ent form oi government. He forbid straugerr * As this was K t. m Mt.uary and uncertain way of deciding who had the rr.aja'ii/, Jie}' were often obliged to separate the people and couu '.he' "votes. Aristotle thinks that ir such a case persons s.^o. la not offer themselves candidate*. or solicit the office or e.'<n). l o>:ne'U, but be called to it mere ly for their abilities and T.!K ; r rxeiit. t^Elian tells us (1. vi,c t; tK ^t rot .nil 'he citi.'ens in differently were buried in th.i r* '1 clot. anJ oi. - e loaves, MII only such as had distinguished :hev vstVek the field. LYCURGUS. too* to resort to Sparta, who could not assign a good reason for their coining; not, as Thucydides says, out of fear they should imitate the constitu- tion of that city, and make improvements in virtue, but lest they should teach his own people some evil. For along with foreigners come new subjects of discourse ;f new discourse produces new opin- ions; and from these there necessarily spring new passions and desires, which, like discords in music, would disturb the established government. He, therefore, thought it more, expedient for the city, to keep out of it corrupt customs and manners, than even to prevent the introduction of a pesti- lence. Thus far, then, we can perceive no vestiges of a disregard to right and wrong, which is the fault eome people find with the laws of Lycurgus, allowing them well enough calculated to produce valor but not to promote justice. Perhaps it was the Cryplia,$ as they called it, or ambuscade, if that was really one of this lawgiver's institutions, as Aristotle says it was, which g*ve Plato so bad an impression both of Lycurgus and his laws. The governors of the youth ordered the shrewdest of them from time to time to disperse themselves in the country provided only with daggers and Borne necessary provisions. In the day-time they hid themselves, and rested in the most private places they could find, but at night they sallied out into the roads, and killed all the Helotes they could meet with. Nay, sometimes by day, they fell upon them in the fields, and murdered the ablest and strongest of them. Thucydides relates in his history of the Pelopounesian war, that the Spartans selected such of them as were distinguished for their courage, to the number of two thousand or more, declared them free, crowned them with garlands, and conducted them to the temples of the gods; but soon after they all disappeared; and no one could either then or since, give account in what manner they were destroyed. Aristotle particularly says, that the epkori, as soon as they * He received with pleasure such strangers as came and mbmitted to his laws, and assigned them shares of land, which they could not alienate. Indeed, the lots of all the citizens were inalienable. t Xenophon, who was an eye-witness, imputes the changes in the Spartan discipline to foreign manners. But in tact they had a .ieeper root. When the Lacedaemonians, in- stead of keeping to their lawgiver's injunction, only to de- fend their own country, and to make no conquests, carried their victorious arms over ;<11 Greece and into Asia itself, then foreign gold and foreign manners came into Sparta, corrupted the simplicity of Ins institutions, and at last over- turned that republic. JThe cruelty of the Lacedemonians toward the Helotes, is frequently spoken of, and generally decried by all au- thors; though Plutarch, who was a great admirer of the Spartans, endeavors to palliate it as much as may be. These poor wretches were marked out for slaves in their dress, their gesture, and, in short, in everything. They wore dog- skin bonnets and sheep-skin vests; *he< <vere forbidden to learn :my liberal art, or to perform *iy Ju* worthy of their masters. Once a day they received a c*i lin number of stripes, for fear they should forget they wtje slaves: and, to crown all, they were liable to this cryptia, which was sure to be executed on all such as spoke, looked, or walked like freemen; a cruel and unnecessary expedient, and un- worthy of a virtuous people. The epfiori, indeed, declared war against them. Against whom? why, against poor naked slaves, who tilled their lands, dressed their food, and did all those offices for them, which they were too proud to do for themselves. Plutarch, according to custom, endea- vors to place all this cruelty far lower than the times of Ly- curgus: and alleges that it svas introduced on account of the Hel.ot.cs joining with the Messenians after a terrible earth- quake, that happened about 467 years before the birth of Christ, whereby a great part of Lacedtemon was over- .nrovvn, and in which above twenty thousand Spartans per- ished. But ^Elian tells us expressly (Hist. Var. 1. iii), that it was the common opinion in Greece, that this very earth- quake was a judgment from heaven upon the Spartans for tating those Helotes with such inhumanity. were invested in their office, declared war against the Helotes, that they might be massacred under pretense of law. In other respects they treated them with great inhumanity: sometimes they made them drink until they were intoxicated, and in that condition led them into the public halls, to show the young men what drunkenness was. They ordered them to sing mean songs, and to dance ridiculous dances, but not to meddle with any that were genteel and graceful. Thus they tell us, that when the Thebans afterward invaded Laconia, and took a great number of the Helotes prisoners, they ordered them to sing the odes of Terpander, Alemen, or Spendon the Lacedemonian, but they excused themselves, alleging that it was foi bidden by their masters. Those who say, that a freeman in Sparta was most a freeman, and a slave most a slave, seem well to have considered the difference of states. But in my opinion, it was in afier times that these cruelties took place among the Lacedae- monians; chiefly after the great earthquake, when, as history informs us, the Helotes, joining the Mes- senians, attacked them, did infinite damage to the country, and brought the city to the greatest ex- tremity. I can never ascribe to Lycurgus so abominable an act as that of the ambuscade. I would judge in this case by the mildness and justice which appeared in the rest of his conduct, to which also the gods gave their sanction. When his principal institutions had taken root in the manners of the people, and the government was come to such maturitv as to be able to support and preserve itself, then, as Plato says of the Deity, that he rejoiced when he had created the world, and given it its first motion; so Lycurgus was charmed with the beauty and greatness of his po- litical establishment, when he saw it exemplified in fact, and move on in due order. He was next desirous to make it immortal, so faras human wis- dom could effect it, and to deliver it down unchan- ged to the latest times. For this purpose he assem- bled all the people, and told them, the provisions he had already made for the state were indeed sufficient for virtue and happiness, but the greatest and most important matter was still behind, which he could not disclose to them until he had consulted the oracle; that they must therefore inviolably observe his laws, without altering anything in them, until he returned from Delphi; and then he would ac- quaint them with the pleasure of Apollo. When they had all promised to do so, and desired him to set forward, he took an oath of the kings and senators, and afterward 'of all the citizens, that they would abide by the present establishment until Lycurgus came back. He then took hib journey to Delphi. When he arrived there, he offered sacrifice to the gods, and consulted the oracle, whether his laws were sufficient to promote virtue, and secure the happiness of the state. Apollo answered, that the laws were excellent, and that the city which kept to the constitution he had established, would be the most glorious in the world. This oracle Lycurgus took down in writing, and sent it to Sparta. He then offered another sacrifice, and embraced his friends and his son, determine. I never to release his citizens from their oath, b it voluntarily there to put a period to his life;* while he was yet of an age when life was not a burden, when death was not desirable, and while he was not unhappy in any one circumstance. He, therefore, destroyed himself by abstaining from food, persuaded that the very death of law- * Yet Lucien says that Lycuigui died at th age of eighty-five. 5S VLUTARCH'S LIVES. ivers should have its use, and their exit, so far | preserved by ike good administration of its kings, rorn being insignificant, have its share of virtue and be considered as a great action. To him, in- deed, whose performances were so illustrious, the conclusion of life was the crown of happiness, and his death was left guardian of those invaluable blessings he had procured his countrymen through life, as they had taken an oath not to depart from his establishment until his return. Nor was he de- ceived in his expectations. Sparta continued su- perior to the rest of Greece, both in its govern- ment at home and reputation abroad, so long as it retained the institution of Lycurgus: and this it did during the space of five hundred years, and the reign of fourteen successive kings, down to Agis the son of Archidamus. As for the appoint- ment of the ephori, it was so far from weakening the constitution, that it gave it additional vigor, and though it seemed to be established in favor of the people, it strengthened the aristocracy.* But in the reign of Agis, money found its way into Sparta, and with money came its inseparable attendant avarice. This was by means of Lysan- der; who, though hirn?elf incapable of being cor- rupted by money, filled his country with the love of it, and with luxury too. He brought both gold and silver from the wars,t and theieby broke through the laws of Lycurgus. While these were in force, Sparta was not so much under the poli- tical regulations of a commonwealth, as the strict rules of a philosophic life; and as the poets feign of Hercules, that only with a club and lion's skin he traveled over the world, clearing it of lawless ruffians and cruel tyrants; so the Laceda3monians with a piece of parchment i and coarse coat kept Greece in a voluntary obedience, destroyed usur- pation and tyranny in the states, put an end to wars, and laid seditions asleep, very often without either shield or lance, and only by sending one ambassador; to whose directions all parties con- cerned immediately submitted. Thus bees, when their prince appears, compose their quarrels and unite in one swarm. So much did justice and good government prevail in that state that I am surprised at those who say, the Lacedemonians knew in- deed how to obey, but not how to govern; and on this occasion quote the saying of king Theopom- pus, who, who 11 one told him, that Sparta was * After all this pompous account, Plutarch himself ac- knowledges, that authors are not well agreed, how and where tiiis great, man died. That lie starved himself is im- probable; but that he returned no more to his country, seems to be perfectly agreeable to his manner of acting, as well as to the current, of history. t Xenoplion acquaints us, that when Lysander had taken Athens, he sent to Sparta many rich spoils and 470 talents of silver. The coining of this huge mass of wealth created great disputes at Sparta. Many celebrated Lysander's praises, and rejoiced exceedingly "at this good fortune, as they called it; others, who were better acquainted with the nature of things, and with their constitution, were of quite another opinion: they looked upon the receipt of this trea- sure as an open violation of the laws of Lycurgus; and they expressed their apprehensions loudly, that, in process of time, they might, by a change in their manners, pay in- finitely more for t.kis money than it was worth. The event justified tlieir fears. J This was the scytalc, the nature and use of which Pin tarch explains in the life of Lysander. He tells us, that when the magistrates gave their commission to any admi- ral or general, they took two round pieces of wood, both exactly equal in breadth and thickness (Thucydides adds, that they were smooth and long); one they kept themselves, the other was delivered to their officer. When they had anything of moment, which they would secretly convey to him, they cut a long narrow scroll of parchment," and rolling it about their own staff, one fold close upon another, they wrote their business on it : when they had written what they had to say, they took off the parchment, and sent it to the general; and he applying it to his own staff, the characters which before were confused > d unintelligible, appeared then very plainly. replied, nay, rather by the obedience of their sub- jects. It is certain that people will not ontiuue pliant to those who know not how to command; but it is the part of a good governor to teach obe- dience. He, who knows how to lead well, is sure to be well followed: and as it is by the art of horsemanship that a horse is made gentle and tractable, so it is by the abilities of him that fills the throne that the people become ductile and sub- missive. Such was the conduct of the Lacede- monians, that people did not only endure, but even desired to be their subjects. They asked not of them, either ships, money, or troops, but only a Spartan general. When they had received him, they treated him with the greatest honor and res- pect; so Gylippus was revered by the Sicilians, .Brasidas by the Chalcidians, Lysander, Callicrati- das, and Agesilaus by all the people of Asia. These, and such as these, wherever they came, were called moderators and reformers, both of the magistrates and^eople, and Sparta itself was con- sidered as a school of discipline, where the beauty of life and political order were taught in the ut- most perfection. Hence Stratonicus seems face- tiously enough to 'have said, that he would order the Athenians to have the conduct of mysteries and processions; the Eleans to preside in games, as their particular province; and the Lacedemonians to be beaten, if the other did amiss.* This was spoken in jest: but Antisthenes, one of the scholars of Socrates, said (more seriously) of the Thebans, when he saw them pluming themselves upon their success at Leuctra, They were just like so many school-boys rejoicing that they had beaten their master. It was not, however, the principal design of Lycurgus, that his city should govern many others, but he considered its happiness like that of a private man, as Jlowing from virtue and self-con sistency: he therefore so ordered and disposed it, that by the freedom and sobriety of its inhabitants, and their having a sufficiency within themselves, its continuance might be the more secure. Plato, Diogenes, Zeno, and other writers upon govern- ment, have taken Lycurgus for their model: and these have attained great praise though they left only an idea of something excellent. Yet he, who, not in idea and in words, but in fact pro- duced a most inimitable form of government and by showing a whole city of philosophers,! con- founded those who imagine that the so much talked of strictness of a philosophic life is im- practicable; he, I say, stands in the rank of glory far beyond the founders of all the other Grecian states.^ Therefore Aristotle is of opinion, that the honors paid him in Lacedoemon were far * Because the teachers should he answerable for the faults of their pupils. The pleasantry of the observation seems to he this: That as the Lacedemonians used to pun- ish the parents or adopters of those young people that be- haved amiss; now that they were the instructors of other nations, they should suffer for their faults. Bryan's Latin text has it, that the Lacedaemonians should beat them But there is no joke in that. t Aristotle and Plato differ in this from Plutarch. Even Polybius, who was so great an admirer of the Spartan go- vernment, allows, that, though the Spartans, considered as individuals, were wise and virtuous, yet in their colleo live capacity they paid but little regard to justice and mod* ration. t Solon, though a person of a different temper^ was no less disinterested than Lycurgus. He settled the Athenian ommonwealth, refused the sovereignty when offered him, y his tiaveled to avoid the importunities of his countrymen, op- posed tyranny in his old age, and when he found his oppo- sition vain, went into voluntary exile. Lycurgus and So- lon were both great men; but the former had the stronger, the latter the milder genius; the effects of which appeared in the commonwealths they founded. NUM A. 59 beneath his merit. Yet those honors were very great; for he has a temple there, and they offer him a yearly sacrifice, as a god. It is also said, that when his remains were brought home, his tomb was struck with lightning: a seal of divinity which no other man, however eminent, has had, except Euripides, who died and was buried at Arethusa in Macedonia. This was matter of great satisfaction and triumph to the friends of Euripides, that the same thing should befall him after death, which had formerly happened to the most venerable of men, and the most favored of heaven. Some say, Lycurgus died at Cirrha; but Apollothemis will have it, that he was brought to Elisand died there; and Timaeus and Aristoxenus write, that he ended his days in Crete; nay, Aris- toxenus adds, that the Cretans show his tomb at Pergamia, near the high road. We are told, he left an only son named Antiorus: and as he died without issue, the family was extinct. His friends and relations observed his anniversary, which sub- sisted for many ages, and the days on which they met for that purpose they called Lycurgidcs. Aristocrates, the son of Hipparchus, relates, that the friends of Lycurgus, with whom ho sojourn- ed, and at last died ia Crete, burned his body, and, at his request, threw his ashes into the sea. Thus he guarded against the possibility of his remains being brought back to Sparta by the Lacedae- monians, lest they should then think themselves released from their oath, on the pretense that he was returned, and make innovations in the go- vernment. This is what we had to say of Ly- curgus. NUM A. THERE is likewise a great diversity among his- torians about the time in which king Numa lived, though some families seern to trace their genea- logy up to him with sufficient accuracy. How- ever, a certain writer called Clodius, in his emen- dations of chronology, affirms, that the ancient archives were destroyed when Rome was sacked by the Gauls; and that those which are now shown as such, were forged in favor of some persons who wanted to stretch their lineage far back, and to deduce it from the most illustrious houses. Some say, that Numa was the scholar of Pythagoras;* but others contend, that he was unacquainted with the Grecian literature, either alleging, that his own genius was sufficient to conduct him to excellence, or that he was instructed by some bar- barian philosopher superior to Pythagoras. Some, again, affirm, that Pythagoras of Sarnos flourished about five generations below the times of Numa: but that Pythagoras the Spartan, who won the prize at the Olympic race in the sixteenth Olympiad ^about the third year of which it was that Numa came to the throne), traveling into Italy, became acquainted with that prince, and assisted him in regulating the government. Hence many Spar- tan custom?, taught by Pythagoras, were inter- mixed with the Roman. But this mixture might have another cause, as Numa was of Sabine ex- traction, and the Sabines declared themselves to have been a Lacedsemonian colony. f It is diffi- cult, however, to adjust the times exactlv, parti- cularly those that are only distinguished with the names of the Olympic conquerors; of which we are told, Ilippias, the Elean, made a collection at a late period, without sufficient vouchers. We shall now relate what we have met with most re- markable concerning Numa, beginning from that * Pythagoras, the philosopher, went not into Italy until the rei<_'n of the elder Tarquin, which was in the fifty-first Olympiad, and four generations (as .Uionysius of HaJicar- nassus tells us), after Numa. t The same Uionysius informs us, that he found in the history of the Sabines, that, while Lycurgus was guardian to his nephew Euromus (Charilaus it should be), some of the Lacedirnionians, unable to endure the severity of his laws, fled inio Italy, and settled first at Pometia; from whence several of them removed into the country of the Sabines, and, uniting with that people, taught them their customs; particularly those relating to the conduct of war, to forti- tude, patience, and a frugal and abstemious manner of liv- ing. This colony, then, settled in Italy 120 veais before the birth of Numa. point of time which is most suitabie to our pur- pose. It was in the thirty-seventh year from the build- ing of Rome, and of the reign of Romulus, on the seventh of the month of July (which day is now called Nona CaprotintB), when that prince went out of the city to offer a solemn sacrifice at a place called the Goafs-Marsh, in the presence of the senate and great part of the people. Suddenly there happened a great alteration in the air, and the clouds burst in a storm of wind and hail. The rest of the assembly were struck with terror and fled, but Rornulus disappeared, and could not be found either alive or dead. Upon this the senators fell under a violent suspicion, and a report was propagated against them among the people, that having long been weary of the yoke of kingly government, and desirous to get the power into their own hands, they had murdered the king. Particularly as he had treated them for sometime in an arbitrary and imperious manner. But they found means to obviate this suspicion, by*paying divine honors to Romulus as a person that had been privileged from the fate of other mortals, and was only removed to a happier scene. Moreover, Proculus, a man of high rank, made oath that he saw Romulus carried up to heaven in complete armor, and heard a voice commanding that he should be called Quirinus. Fresh disturbances and tumults arose in the city about the election of a new king, the later inhabitants being not yet thoroughly incorporated with the first, the commonalty fluctuating and un- settled in itself, and the patricians full of animosity and jealousies of each other. All, indeed, agreed that a king should be appointed, but they differed and debated, not only about the person to be fixed upon, but from which of the two nations he should be elected. For neither could they who, with Romulus, built the city, endure, that the Sabines, who had been admitted citizens, and obtained a share of the lands, should attempt to command those from whom they had received such privi- leges; nor yet could the Sabines depart from their claim of giving a king in their turn to Rome, having this good argument in their favor, that upon the death of Tatius, they had suffered Ro- mulus peaceably to enjoy the throne, without a colleague. It was also to be considered, that they did not come as inferiors to join a superior peo- ple, but by their rank aud number added strength 60 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and dignity to tho city that received them. These were the arguments on which they founded their claims. Lest this dispute should produce an utter confusion, while there was no king, nor any steers- man at the helm, the senators made an order that the hundred and fifty members who composed their body,* should each, in their turns, be attired in the robes of state; in the room of Quirinus, offer the stated sacrifices to the gods, and dispatch the whole public business, six hours in the day, and six hours at night. This distribution of time seemed well contrived, in point of equality among the regents, and the change of power from hand to hand prevented its being obnoxious to the peo- ple, who saw the same person in one day and one night reduced from a king to a private man. This occasional administration the Romans call an In- terregnum. But though the matter was managed in this moderate and popular way, the senators could not escape the suspicions and complaints of the peo- ple, that they were changing the government into an oligarchy, and as they had the direction of all affairs in their hands, were unwilling to have a king. At last it was agreed between the two parties, that one nation should choose a king out of the whole body of the other. This was con- sidered as the best means of putting a stop to the present contention, and of inspiring the king with an affection for both parties, since he would be gracious to these, because they had elected him, and to those as his kindred and countrymen. The Sabines leaving the Romans to their option, they preferred a Sabine king of their own electing, to a Roman chosen by the Sabines. Consulting, therefore, 'among themselves,t they fixed upon Numa Pompilius, a Sabine, who was not of the number of those who had migrated to Rome, but so celebrated for virtue, that the Sabines received the nomination even with greater applause than the Romans themselves. When they had ac- quainted the people with their resolution, they sent the most eminent personages of both nations ambassadors, to entreat him to come and take upon him the government. Numa was of Cures, a considerable city of the Sabines, from which the Romans, together with the incorporated Sabines, took the name of Qui- rites. He was the soir of a person of distinction named Pomponius, and the youngest of four bro- thers. It seemed to be by the direction of the gods, that he was born the twenty-first of April, the samo day that Rome was founded by Romu- lus. His mind was naturally disposed to virtue; and he still farther subdued it by discipline, pa- tience, and philosophy, not only purging it of the grosser and most infamous passions, but even of that ambition and rapuciousness which was reck- oned honorable among the barbarians: persua- ded that true fortitude consists in the conquest of * According to our author, in the life of Romulus, the number of the senators was i>00. Indeed, Dionysius says that writers differed in this particular, some affirming, that ]<IO senators were added to the original number upon the union of the Sabines with the Romans; anil others, that only fifty were added. Livy gives the most probable ac- count of the manner of the Interregnum. The senators he says, divided themselves into decuries or tens. These' declines drew lots which should govern first, and the decury, to whose lot it fell, enjoyed the supreme authority for five days; yet, in such a manner, that one per s on only of the governing decury had the ensigns of sovereignty at a time. T The uitcrrci., for the time being, having summoned the people, addressed them thus: " Romans, elect yourselves a king; the senate give their consent; and if you choose a prince worthy to succeed Romulus, the senate will confirm your choice." The people were so well pleased with this condescension of the senate, that they remitted the choice to them. appetites by reason. On this account he banished all luxury and splendor from his house; and both the citizens and strangers found in him a faithful counselor,, and an upright iudge. As for hia hours of leisure, he spent the^i act in the pursuits of pleasure, or schemes of profit, but in the wor- ship of the gods, and in rational inquiries into their nature and their power. His name became at length so illustrious, that Tatius, who was the associate of Romulus -in the kingdom, having an only daughter named Tatia, bestowed her upon him. He was not, howevrr, so much elated with this match as to remove to the court of his father- in-law, but continued in the country of the Sa- bines, paying his attentions to his own father, who was now grown old. Tatia was partaker of his retirement, and preferred the calm enjoyment of life with her husband in privacy, to the honors and distinction in which she might have lived with her father at Rome. Thirteen years after their marriage she died. Numa then left the society of the city, and passed his time in wandering about alone in the sacred groves and lawns, in the most retired and solitary places. Hence the report concerning the goddess Egeria chiefly took its rise;* and it was believed it was not from any inward sorrow or melancholy turn that he avoided human conver- sation, but from his being admitted to that which was more venerable and excellent, from the honor he had of a familiar intercourse with a divinity that loved him, whic;; led him to happiness and knowledge more than mortal. It is obvious enough, how much this resembles many of the ancient stories received and delivered down by the Phrygians of Atys,f the Bythenians of Hero- dotus, and the Arcadians of Endymion: to whom might be added many others, who were thought te have attained to superior felicity, and to be belov- ed in an extraordinary manner by the gods. And, indeed, it is rational enough to suppose, that the deity would not place his affection upon horses or birds, but rather upon human beings, eminently distinguished by virtue; and that he neither dis- likes nor disdains to hold conversation with a man of wisdom and piety. But that a divinity should be captivated with the external beauty of any hu- man body is irrational to believe. The Egyptians, indeed, make a distinction in this case, which they think not an absurd one, that it is not im- possible for a woman to be impregnated by the approach of some divine spirit; but that a man can have no corporeal intercourse with a goddess. But they do not, however, consider that a mixture, be it of what sort it may. equally communicates its being. In short, the regard which the gods have for men, though, like a human passion, it be called love, must be employed in forming their manners, and raising them to higher degrees of * Numa's inclination to solitude, and his custom of retir- ing into the secret places of the forest of Aricia, gave rise to several popular opinions. Some believed that the nymph Egeria herself dictated to him the laws, both civil and reli- gious, which he established. And, indeed, he declared so himself, in order to procure a divine sanction to them. But, as no great man is without aspersions, others have thought, that under this affected passion for woods and caves, was concealed another more real and less chaste. This gave occasion to that sarcasm of Juvenal, in speaking of the grove of Egeria (Sat. iii, ver. 12). Hie ubi nocturne Numse constituebat amicae. Ovid says, that to remove her grief for the loss of Numa, Diana changed her into a fountain which still bears h' name. Metam. 1, xv. t Atys was said to be beloved by the goddess Cybele, and Endymion by Diana; but we believe there is nowhera else any mention made of this Herodotus or Khodotus, at Daoier from his manuscript calls him. N U M A . 61 virtue In titis sense we may admit the assertion of the poets, (hut Phorbas,* Hyacinth us, and Ad- inetus, were beloved by Apollo; and that Hippo- lytus, the Sicyoriian, was equally in his favor; so that whenever he sailed from Cirrha to Sicyon, the priestess, to signify Apollo's satisfaction, re- peated this heroic verse: He comes, again the much-loved hero comes. It is also fabled, that Pan was in love with Pin- dar,! on account of his poetry; and that Archi- lochus and Hesiod,i after their death, were hon- ored by the heavenly powers for the same reason. Sophocles, too (as the story goes), was blessed in his lifetime with the conversation of the god ^Esculapius, of which many proofs still remain; and another deity procured iiirn burial. Now if we admit that these were so highly favored, shall we deny that Zaleucus,|l Minos, Zoroaster, Numa, and Lycurgus, kings and lawgivers, were happy in the same respect? Nay, rather we shall think, that the gods might seriously converse with such excellent persons as these, to instruct and encour- age them in their great attempts; whereas, if they indulged poets and musicians in the same grace, it must be by way of diversion. To such as are of another opinion, I shall say, however, with Bac- chylides, The way is broad. For it is no unplau- sible account of the matter which others give, when they tell us, that Lycurgus, Numa, and other great men, finding their people difficult to manage, and alterations to be made in their several governments, pretended commissions from heaven which were salutary, at least to those for whom they werv invented. Numa was now in his fortieth year, when am- bassadors came from Rome to make him an offer of the kingdom. The speakers were Proculus and Velesus, whom the people before had cast their eyes upon for the royal dignity, the Romans being attached to Proculus, and the Sabines to Velesus. As they imagined that Numa would gladly embrace his good fortune, they made but a short speech. They found it, however, no easy matter to persuade him, but were obliged to make us of much entreaty to draw him from that * Phorbas was the son of Triopas, king of Argos. He delivered the Rhodians from a prodigious number of ser- pents that infested their island, and particularly from one furious dragon that had devoured a great many people. He was, therefore, supposed to be dear to Apollo, who had slain the Python. After his death he was placed in the heavens, with the dragon lie had destroyed, in the constellation Ovkiucus or Serpentariu.1. Hyaeinthus was the son of Amyclas, founder of the city of Amyclse, near Sparta. He was beloved by Apollo and 7ephyrus. and was killed in a fit of jealousy by the latter, who, with a puff of wind, caused a quoit thrown by Apollo to fall upon his head. He was changed into a ilower which bears his name. Vide Pausan. De Laconic. 1. iii, and Ovid, Metum., 1. x, fab. 5. Admetus was the son of Pheres, king of Thessaly. It is said that Apollo kept his sheep. t Pindar had a particular devotion for the god Pan, and therefore took up his abode near the temple of Rhea and Pan. He composed thi hymns which the Theban virgins ung on the festival of that deity; and, it is said he had" the happiness to hear Pan himself singing one of his odes. $ Archilochns was slain by a soldier of Naxos, who was obliged by the priestess of Apollo to make expiation for having killed a man consecrated to the muses. As for He- siod, the Orchomenians, a people of Boeotia, being terribly afflicted by a plague, were ordered by the oracle '.o remove the bones of that poet, from Naupactus in vEtolia, into their country. Sophocles died at Athens, while Lysander was carry- ing on the siege of the city; and Bacchus is said to have appeared to the Spartan general in a dream, and ordered him to permit the new Athenian Syren to be buried at Decelea. H Zaleucus gave laws to the Locrians in Magna Grscia; Zoroaster, one of the magi, and king of the Haetrians, to bu own subjects; and Minos to the people of Crete. peaceful retreat he was so fond of, to the govern- ment of a city, born, as it were, and brought up in war. In the presence, therefore, of his father, and one of his kinsmen, named Marcius, he gave them this answer: " Every change of human life has its dangers; but when a man has a sufficiency for everything, and there is nothing in Ins present situation to be complained of, what but madness can lead him from his usual track of life, which, if it has no other advantage, has that of certainty, to experience another as yel doubtful and un- known? But the dangers that attend his govern- ment are beyond an uncertainty, if we may form a judgment from the fortunes of Romu-lus r who labored under the suspicion of taking oft' Tatius his colleague, and was supposed to have lost his own life with equal injustice. Yet Romulus is celebrated as a person of divine origin, as super- naturally nourished, when an infant, and most wonderfully preserved. For my part, I arn only of mortal race, and you are sensible my nursing and education boast of nothing extraordinary. As for my character, if it has any distinction, it has been gained in a way not likely to qualify me for a king, in scenes of repose, and employments by no means arduous. My genius is inclined to peace, my love has long been fixed upon it, and I have studiously avoided the confusion of war: I have also drawn others, so far as my influence extended, to the worship of the gods, to mutual offices of friendship, and to spend the rest of their time in tilling the ground, and feeding cattle. The Romans may have unavoidable wars left upon their hands by their late king, for the maintaining of which you have need of another more active and more enterprising. Beside, the people are of a warlike disposition, spirited with success, and plainly enough discover their inclination to extend their conquests. Of course, therefore, a person who has set his heart upon the promoting of re- ligion and justice, and drawing men off from the love of violence and war, would soon become ri- diculous and contemptible to a city that has more occasion for a general than a king." Numa in this manner declining the crown, the Romans, on the other hand, exerted all their en- deavors to obviate his objections, and begged of him not to throw them into confusion and civil war again, as there was no other whom both par- ties would unanimously elect. When the am- bassadors had retired, his father and his friend Marcius privately urged him, by all the argu- ments in their power, to receive this great and valuable gift of heaven. " If contented," said they, " with a competence, you desire not riches, nor aspire after the honor of sovereignty, having a higher and better distinction in virtue; yet con- sider that a king is the minister of God, who now awakens and puts in action your native wisdom and justice. Decline not, therefore, an authority, which to a wise man is a field for great and good actions; where dignity may be added to religion, arid men may be brought over to piety, in the easiest and readiest way, by the influence of the prince. Tatius, though a stranger, was beloved by this people, and they pay divine honors to the memory of Romulus. Beside, who knows, aa they are victorious, but they may be satiated with war, and having no farther wish for triumphs and spoils, may be desirous of a mild and just go- vernor for the establishing of good laws, and the settling of peace? But should they ever be so ardently inclined to war, yet is it not better to turn their violence another way, and to be the center of union and friendship between the coun- try of the Sabmes, and so great and flourishing a 62 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. state as that of Rome?" These inducements, we are told, were strengthened by auspicous omens, and by the zeal and ardor of his fellow-citizens, who, as soon as they had learned the subject of the embassy, went in a body to entreat him to take the government upon him, as the only means to appease all dissensions, and effectually incor- porate the two nations into one. When he had determined to go, he offered sacrifice to the gods, and then set forward to Rome. Struck with love and admiration of the man, the senate and people met him on the way; the women welcomed him with blessings and shouts of joy ; the temples were crowded with sacrifices; and so universal was the satisfaction, that the city might seem to have received a king- dom, instead of a king. When they were come into the Forum, Spurius Vetting, whose turn it was then to be Iiiterrex, put it to the vote, whe- ther Numa should be king, and all the citizens agreed to it with one voice. The robes and other distinctions of royalty then were offered him, but he commanded them to stop, as his authority yet wanted the sanction of heaven. Taking therefore with him the priests and augurs, he went up to the Capitol, whicli the Romans at that time called the Tarpeian rock. There the chief of the augurs covered the head of Numa,* and turned his face toward the south; then standing behind him, and laying his right hand upon his head, he offered up his devotions, and looked around him, in hopes of seeing birds, or some other signal from the gods. An incredible silence reigned among the people, anxious for the event, and lost in suspense, until the auspicious birds ap- peared and passed on the right hand. Then Numa took the royal robe, and went down from the mount to the people, who received him with loud acclamations, as the most pious of men, and most beloved of the gods. His first act of government was to discharge the body of three hundred men, called CeleresJ whom Romulus always kept about his person as guards; for he neither chose to distrust those who put a confidence in him, nor to reign over a people that could distrust him. In the next place, to the priosts of Jupiter and Mars he added one for Ro- mulus, whom he styled Flamen Quirinalis. Fla- mines was a common name for priests before that time, and it is said to have been corrupted from PiLamines, a term derived from Piloi, which in Greek signifies caps$ (for they wore, it seems, a kind of caps or hoods); and the Latin language had many more Greek words mixed with it then, than it has at this time. Thus royal mantles \vere, by the Romans, called Xante, which Juba assures us was from the Greek, Chlanai, and the pame of Camillus, given to the youth who served * So it is in the text of Plutarch, as it now stands; but it appears from Livy, that the augur covered his own head, not that ot Numa, Augur ad tievam eju*, capite velato, se- tUOR ccpit, ftc. And, indeed, the augur always covered his head in a gown peculiar to his office, called lama, when he made his observations. t Numa did not make use of them as guards, but as in- ferior ministers, who were to take care of the sacrifices tinder the direction of the tribunes, who had commanded' them in their military capacity. % Others think they took their names from the flame- colored tufts they had on their caps. They were denomi- nated from the particular god to whom their ministry was confined, as Jlamen Dialis, the Priest of Jupiter; Flamen Martialis, the Priest of Mars. Camillus is derived from the Botic x^J^M/Xo?, which properly signifies a servitor. In every temple there is a youth of quality, whose business it was to minister to the priest. It was necessary that the father and mother of the youth hould be both alive; for which reason Plutarch makes use in the temple of Jupiter, and who was to have both his parents alive, was the same which some of the Greeks give to Mercury, on account of his being an attendant of that god. Numa having settled these matters with a view to establish himself in the people's good graces, immediately after attempted to soften them, as iron is softened by fire, and to bring them from a violent and warlike disposition, to a juster and more gentle temper. For, if any city ever was in a state of inflammation, as Plato expresses it, Rome certainly was, being composed at first of the most hardy and resolute men, whom boldness and despair had driven thither from all quarters, nourished and grown up to power by a series of wars, and strengthened even by blows and con- flicts, as piles fixed in the ground become firmer under the strokes of the rammer. Persuaded that no ordinary means were sufficient to form and reduce so high spirited and untractable a people to mildness and peace, he called in the assistance of religion. By sacrifices, religious dances, and processions, which he appointed, and wherein himself officiated, he contrived to mix the charms of festivity and social pleasure with the solemnity of the ceremonies. Thus he soothed their minds, and calmed their fierceness and martial fire. Sometimes also, by acquainting them with prodi- gies from heaven, by reports of dreadful appari- tions and menacing voices, he inspired them with terror and humbled them with superstition. This was the principal cause of the report, that he drew his wisdom from the sources of Pythagoras: for a greai part of the philosophy of the latter, as well as the government of the former, consisted in religious attentions and the worship of the gods. It is likewise said, that his solemn appearance and air of sanctity was copied from Pythagoras. That philosopher had so far tamed an eagle, that, by pronouncing certain words, he could stop it in its flight, or bring it down; and passing through tha multitudes assembled at the Olympic games, he showed them his golden thigh; beside other arts and actions, by which he pretended to something supernatural. This led Timon the Phliasian to write, To catch applause Pythagoras affects A solemn air and grandeur of expression. But Numa feigned that some goddess or moun- tain nymph favored him with her private regards (as we have already observed), and "that he had moreover frequent conversations with the rnuses. To the latter he ascribed most of his revelations; and there was one in particular, that he called Tacita, as much as to say, the muse of silence,* whom he, taught the Romans to di.stingui.-ih with their veneration. By this, too, he seemed to show his knowledge and approbation of the Pytha- gorean precept of silence. His regulations concerning images seem like- wise to have some relation to the doctrine of Pythagoras; who was of opinion that the First Cause was not an object of sense, nor liable to passion, but invisible, 'incorruptible, and discerni- ble only by the mind. Thus Nurna forbade the Romans to represent the Deity in the form either of man or beast. Nor was there among them formerly any image or statue of the Divine Being: during the first hundred and seventy years they built temples, indeed, and other sacred domes, but of the word 0t/U$ld*toi which the Latins call patrimum U matrimum. * In the city of Erythrze, there was a temple of Minerva, where the priestess was called Hesychia, that is, the torn- i posed, the silent. NUM A. 63 placed in them no figure of any kind, persuaded that it is impious to represent things divine by what is perishable, and that we can have no con- ception of God but by the understanding. His sacrifices, too, resembled the Pythagorean worship: for they were without any effusion of blood, consisting chiefly of flour, libations of wine, and other very simple and unexpensive things. To these arguments other circumstances are added, to prove that these two great men were acquainted with each oilier. One of which is that Pythagoras was enrolled a citizen of Rome. This account we have in an address to Antenor from Epicliarmus,* a writer of comedy, and a very an- cient author, who was himself of the school of Pythagoras. Another is, that Numa having four sons,f called one of them, Mamercus, after the name of a son of Pythagoras. From him too, they tell us, the JEmilian family is descended, which is one of the noblest in Rome; the king having given him the surname of yEmilius, on account of his graceful and engaging manner of speaking. And I have myself 'been informed by several persons in Rome, that the Romans being commanded by the oracle to erect two statues,}: one to the wisest, and the other to the bravest of the Grecians, set up in brass the figures of Py- thagoras and Alcibiades. But as these matters are very dubious, to support or refute them farther would look like the juvenile affectation of dispute. To Numa is attributed the institution of that high order of priests called Pontifices, over which he is said to have presided himself. Some say, they were called Pontifices, as employed in the service of those powerful gods that govern the world; for potcns in the Roman language signi- fies powerful. Others, from their being ordered by the lawgiver to perform such secret offices as were in their power, and standing excused when there was some great impediment. But most writers assign a ridiculous reason for the term, as if they were called Pontifices from their offering sacrifices upon the bridge, which the Latins call pontem, such kind of ceremonies it seems being looked upon as the most sacred, and of greatest antiquity. These priests too, are sard to have been commissioned,, to keep the bridges in repair, as one of the most indispensable parts of their holy office. For the Romans considered it as an execrable impiety to demolish the wooden bridge; * According to the Marmora Oxon, Epicharn.ns, flour- ished in the year before Christ 472; and it is certain it must have been about that time, because he was at the court of Ilierp. fSoine writers, to countenance the ''anity of certain no- ble families in Home, in deducing ,heir genealogy from Numa, have given that prince four sons. But, the common opinion is, thnt he had only one (laughter, named i'ompi- lia. The yEmilii were one of the most considerable fami- lies in Home, find branched into the Lepidi, the 1'auli, and tiie I'api. The word Jlimutin, or JSZmylus, in Greek, sig- nifies gentle, gr act-fid. J Pliny tells us (I. xx.xiv, c. 5), it was in the time of their war with the Samnites that the Romans were ordered to set up these statues; that they were accordingly placed in the comituim. and that they remained there until' the dic- tatorship of Sylla. The oracle, by this direction, probably intimated, that the Romans, if they desired to be victori- ous, should imitate the wisdom and valor of the Greeks. Numa created four, who were all patricians. But in the year of Rome 4511 or 454, four plebeians were added to the number. The king himself is here asserted to have been the chief of them, or pontifex maxiinua; though Livy attributes that honor to another person of the same name, viz: Numa Marcius, the son of Marcius, one of the sena- tors. It seems, however, not improbable that Numa, who was of so religious a turn, reserved the chief dignity in the priesthood to himself, as kings had done in the first ages of the world, ani as the emperors of Rome did afterward. which, we are told, was built without iron, and put together with pins of wood only, by the direc- tion of some oracle. The stone bridge was built many ages after, when JEmilius was queestor. Some, however, inform us, that the wooden britigo was not constructed in the time of Nurna, having the last hand put to it by Ancus Marcius, who was grandson to Numa by his daughter. The pontifex maximus, chief of these priests, is interpreter of all sacred rites, or rather a superin- tendent of religion, having the care not only of public sacrifices, but even of private rites and offerings, forbidding the people to depart from the stated ceremonies, and teaching them how to honor and propitiate tho gods. He had also the inspec- tion of the holy virgins called Vestals. For to Numa is ascribed the sacred establishment of the vestal virgins, and the whole service with respect to the perpetual fire, which they watch continual- ly. This office seems appropriated to them, either because fire, which is of a pure and incorruptible nature, should be looked after by persons un- touched and undefiled, or else because virginity, like fire, is barren and unfruitful. Agreeably to this last reason, at the places in Greece where the sacred fire is preserved unextinguished, as at Del- phi and Athens, not virgins, but widows past childbearing, have the charge of it. If it happens by any accident to be put out, as the sacred lamp is said to have been at Athens, under the tyranny of Aristion;* at Delphi, when the temple was burned by the Medes; and at Rome, in the Mithri- datic war, as also in the civil war,f when not only the fire was extinguished, but the altar overturn- ed; it is not to be lighted again from another fire, but new fire is to be gained by drawing a pure and unpolluted flame from the sun-beams. They kindle it generally with concave vessels of brass, formed by the conic section of a rectangled triangle, whose lines from the circumference meet in one central point. This being placed against the sun, causes its rays to converge in the center, which, by reflection, acquiring the force and activity of fire, rarify the air, and immediately kindle such light and dry matter as they may think fit to apply4 Some are of opinion, that the sacred virgins have the care of nothing but the perpetual fire. But others say they have some private rites beside, kept from the sight of all but their own body, concerning which 1 hiive deliver- ed, in the life of Camillus, as much as it was pro- per to inquire into or declare. It is reported that at first only two virgins were consecrated by Numa, whose names were Gegania and Verania; afterward two others Canuleia and Tarpeia; to whom Servius added two more; and that number has continued to this time. The vestals were obliged by the king to preserve their virginity for thirty years. The first ten years they spent in learning their office; the next ten in putting in practice what they had learned; and the third period in the instructing of others. At the * This Aristion held out a long time against Sylla, who besieged and took Athens in the time of the Mithridatic war. Aristion himself committed innumerable outrages in the city, and was at last the cause of its being sacked and plundered. As for the sacred fire, it was kept in the tem- ple of Minerva. t Livy tells us (1. 86), that toward the conclusion of the civil war between Sylla and Marius, Mutius Schsevola, the pontiff, was killed at the entrance of the temple of Vesta; but we do not find that the sacred fire was extinguished. And even when that temple was burned, toward the end of the first Punic war, L. Cecilius Metellus, then pontiff, rushed through the flames, and brought off the Palladium. and other sacred things, though with the loss of his sight. t Burning glasses were invented by Archimedes, who flourished 500 years after Naiua. 64 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. conclusion of this time, such as chose it had liberty to marry, and quitting their sacred employment to take up some other. However, we have ac- count of but very few that accepted this indul- gence, and those did not prosper. They generally became a prey to repentance and regret, from whence the rest, inspired with a religious fear, were willing to end their lives under the same in- stitution. The king honored them with great privileges, such as power to make a will during their father's life, and to transact their other affairs w.thout a guardian, like the mothers of three children now. When they went abroad, they had the fasces car- ried before them;* and if. by accident, they met a person led to execution, his life was granted him. But the vestal was to make oath t that it was by chance she met him, and not by design. ft was death to go under the chair in which they were carried. For smaller offenses these virgins were punish- ed with stripes; and sometimes the pontifex maxi- mus gave them the discipline naked, in some dark place, and under the cover of a vail: but she that broke her vow of chastity was buried alive by the Colline gate. There, within the walls, is raised a little mount of earth, called in Latin Agger: under which is prepared a small cell with steps to de- scend to it. In this are placed a bed, a lighted i&rap, ftiiii some slight provisions, such as bread, water, milk, and oil, as they thought it impious to take off a person consecrated with the most awful ceremonies, by such a death as that of famine.^ The criminal is carried to punishment through the Forum, in a litter well covered with- out, and bound up in such a manner that her cries cannot be heard. The people silently make way for the litter, and follow it with marks of extreme sorrow and dejection. There is no spec- tacle more dreadful than this, nor any day which the city passes in a more melancholy manner. When the litter comes to the place appointed, the officers loose the cords, the high- priest, with hands lifted up toward heaven, offers up some private prayers just before the fatal minute, then takes out the prisoner, who is covered with a vail, and places her upon the steps which lead down to the cell: after this, he retires with the rest of the priests, and when she is gone down, the steps are taken away, and the cell is covered with earth; so that the place is made level with the rest of the mount. Thus were the vestals punished that pre- served not their chastity. It is also said, that Numa built the temple of Vesta, where the perpetual fire was to be kept, in an orbicular form, not intending to represent the figure of the earth, as if that was meant by Vesta, but the frame of the universe, in the center of which the Pythagoreans place the element of fire, || and give it the name of Vesta and Unity. * This nonor was not conferred upon them by Numa, but ii y the triumvirate in the year of Rome 712. "t Neither a vestal nor a priest of Jupiter was obliged to tnke an oath. They were believed without that solemnity. t There seems to be something improbable and inconsis- tent in this. Of what use could provisions be to the vestal, who, when the grave was closed upon her, must expire through want of air? Or, if she could make nse of those provisions, was she not at last to die by famine? Perhaps what Plutarch here calls provisions were materials for some sacrifice. Dionysins of Halicarnassus (1. ii) is of opinion, and probably he is right, that Numa did build the temple of Vesta in a round form, to represent the figure of the earth; for by Vesta they meant the earth. 11 That this was the opinion of Philolaus and other Py- thagoreans is well known; but Diogenes Laertius tells us, that Pythagoras himself held the earth to be the center. The earth they supposed not to be without mo- tion, nor situated in the center of the world, but to make its revolution round the sphere of fire being neither one of the most, valuable nor prin- cipal parts of the great machine. Plato, too, in his old age, is reported to have been of the same opinion, assigning the earth a diiferent situation from the center, and leaving that, as the place of honor, to a nobler element. The Pontifices were, moreover, to prescribe the form of funeral rites to such as consulted them, Numa himself taught them to look upon the last offices to the dead as no pollution. He instructed them to pay all due honor to the infernal gods, as receiving the most excellent part of us, and more particularly to venerate the goddess Libitina, as lie caljed her, who presides over funeral so- lemnities; whether he meant by her Proserpine^ or rather Venus,* as some of the most learned Romans suppose; not improperly asciibing to the same divine power the cure of our birth and of our death. He himself likewise fixed the time of mourning, according to the different ages of the deceased. He allowed none for a child that died under three years of age; and for one older, the mourning was only to last as many months as he lived years, provided those were not more than ten. The longest mourning was not to continue above ten months, after which space widows were permitted to marry again; but she that took another hus- band before that term was out, was obliged by his decree to sacrifice a cow with calf.f Numa instituted several other sacred orders, two of which I shall mention, the Salii and Fe- ciales, which afford particular proofs of his piety. The Feciales, who were like the Irenophylakes, or guardians of the peace, among the Greeks, had, I believe, a name expressive ot their office; for they were to act and mediate between the two parties, to decide their differences by reason, and not suf- fer them to go to war until all hopes of justice were lost. The Greeks call such a peace Irene, * This Venns Libitina was the same with Proserpine. She was called at Delphi, Venus Epitumbia. Pluto wai the Jupiter of the .shades below; and there they had their Mercury too. t Such an unnatural sacrifice was intended to deter the widows fiom marrying again before the expiration of J.heil mourning. Romulus's year consisting but of ten months. when Numa afterward added two months more, he did not alter the time he had before settled for mourning; and therefore, though after that time we often meet with Luctua annus, or a vear's mourning, we must take it only for the 1 old year of Romulus. The ordinary color to express their grief, used alike by both sexes, was black, without trimmings. But after the establishment of the empire, when abundance of color* came in fashion, the old primitive white grew so much into contempt, that it became peculiar to the women for their mourning. Vide Plut. Quast. Rom. There were several accidents which often occasioned the concluding of a public mourning, or suspension of a private one, before the fixed time, such as the dedication of a temple, the solemnity of public games or festivals, the so- lemn lustration performed by the censor, and the discharg- ing of a vow made by a magistrate or a general. They likewise put off their mourning habit when a father, bro- ther, or son, returned from captivity, or when some of the family were advanced to a considerable employment. t The Salii were the guardians of the Anrilia, or t shields hung up in the temple of Mars. They took name from their dancing in the celebration of an annual festival instituted in memory of a miraculous shield, which Numa pretended, fell down from heaven. Dionysins of Halicarnassns finds them among the Abo- rigines; and Nunmi.5 said to have borrowed the institution from the people of L.ttium. He appointed twenty feciales, chosen out of the most eminent families in Rome, and set- tled them in a cofu:~e. The pater patratus, who made peace, or denounced war, was probably one of their body selected for that purpose, because he had both a father ao4 a son alive. Lie. 1. i, c. 24. welve theii NUM A. 65 M puts an end to strife, not by mutual violence, out in a rational way. In like manner the feciales, or heralds, were often dispatched to such nations as had injured the Romans, to persuade them to entertain more equitable sentiments: if they re- jected their application, they called the gods to witness, with imprecations against themselves and their country, if their cause was not just; and so they declared war. But if the feciales refused their sanction, it was not lawful for any Roman soldier, nor even for the king himself, to begin hostilities. War was to commence with their approbation, as the proper judges whether it was just, and then the supreme magistrate was to deliberate concern- ing the proper means of carrying it on. The great misfortunes which befell the city from the Gauls, are said to have proceeded from the viola- tion of these sacred rites. For when those barba- rians were besieging Clusium, Fabius Ambustus was sent ambassador to their camp, with propo- sals of peace in favor of the besieged. But receiv- ing a harsh answer, he thought himself released from his character of ambassador, and rashly taking up arms for the Clusians, challenged the bravest man in the Gaulish army. He proved victorious, indeed, in the combat, for he killed his adversary, and carried off his spoils: but the Gauls having discovered who he was, sent a herald to Rome to accuse Fabius of bearing arms against them, contrary to treaties and good faith, and without a declaration of war. Upon this the fe- ciales exhorted the senate to deliver him up to the Gauls; but he applied to the people, and being a favorite with them, was screened from the sen- tence. Soon after this the Gauls marched to Rome, and sacked the whole city except the Ca- pitol: as ^e have related at large in the life of Camillus. The order of priests called Salii, is said to have been instituted on this occasion: In the eighth year of Numa's reign a pestilence prevailed in Italy; Rome also felt its ravages. While the people were greatly dejected, we are told that a brazen buckler fell from heaven into the hands of Numa. Of this he gave a very wonderful account, received from Egeria and the muses: That the buckler was sent down for the preservation of the city, and should be kept with great care: That eleven others should be made as like it as possible in size and fashion, in order, that if any person were disposed to steal it, he might not be able to distinguish that which fell from heaven from the rest He farther declared, that the place, and the meadows about it, where he frequently conversed with the muses, should be consecrated to those divinities; and that the spring which watered the ground should be sacred to the use of the vestal virgins, daily to sprinkle and purify their temple. The immediate cessation of tue pestilence is said to have confirmed the truth of this account. Numa then showed the buckler to the artists, and commanded them to exert all their skill for an exact resemblance. They all declined the attempt, except Veturius Mamurius, who was so successful in the imitation, and made the other eleven so like it, that not even Numa himself could distinguish them. He gave these bucklers in charge to the Salii; who did not receive their name, as some pretend, from Salius of Samothrace or Mantinea, that taught the way of dancing in arms, but rather from the subsultive dance itself, which they lead up along the streets, when in the month of March they carry the sacred bucklers through the city. On that occasion they are habited in purple vests, girt with broad belts of brass; they wear also bra- ion helmets, and carry short swords, with which 5 hey strike upon the bucklers, and to those sounds hey keep time with their feet. They move in an igreeable manner, performing certain involutioni and evolutions in a quick measure, with vigor, agility, and ease. These bucklers are called Ancilia, from the form of them. For they are neither circular, nor yet, ike the pelta, semicircular, but fashioned in two crooked, indented lines, the extremities of which meeting close, form a curve, in Greek Ancylon. 3r else they may be so named from the ancon or 'tend of the arm, on which they are carried. This account of the matter we have from Juba, who is very desirous to derive the term from the Greek. But if we must have an etymology from that lan- guage, it may be taken from their descending, anekathen, from on high; or from akesis, their healing of the sick; or from auchmon lusis, their putting an end to the drought; or lastly from anaschesis, deliverance from calamities: For which reason also Castor and Pollux were by the Athe- nians called anakes. The reward Mamurius had for his art, was, we are told, an ode, which the Salians sung in memory of him, along with the Pyrrhic dance. Some, however, say, it was not Veturius Mamurius, who was celebrated in that composition, but vetus memoria, the ancient re- membrance of the thing. After Numa had instituted these several orders of priests, he erected a royal palace, called Regia near the temple of Vesta; and there he passed most of his time, either in performing some sacred function, or instructing the priests, or, at least, in conversing with them on some divine subject. He had also another house upon the Quirinal mount, the situation of which they still show us. In all public ceremonies and processions of the priests a herald went before, who gave notice to the people to keep holiday. For, as they tell us, the Pytha- goreans would not suffer their disciples to pay any homage or worship to the gods in a cursory man- ner, but required them to come prepared for it by meditation at home; so Numa was of opinion, that his citizens should neither see nor hear any religious service in a slight or careless way, but disengaged from other affairs, bring with them that attention which an object of such importance required. The streets and ways, on such occa- sions, were cleared of clamor, and all manner of noise which attends manual labor, that the solem- nities might not be disturbed. Some vestiges of this still remain: for when the consul is employed either in augury or sacrificing, they call out to the people, Hoc age, Mind this; and thus admonish them to be orderly and attentive. Many other of his institutions resemble those of the Pythagoreans. For as these had precepts, which enjoined not to sit upon a bushel;* nor to stir the fire with a swordjf not to turn back upon ajourneyjt to offer an odd number to the celes- tial gods, and an even one to the terrestrial ; the sense of which precepts is hid from the vulgar: so * That is, not to give up ourselves to idleness. t Not to irritate him who is already angry. tin another place Plutarch gives this precept thus: Never return from the borders. But the sense is the same; Dia like a man; do not long after life when it is departing, or wish to be young again. The Pagans looked on an odd nnmher as the more perfect and the symbol of concord, because it cannot be di- vided into two equal pafts, as the even number may, which is therefore the symbol of division. This prejudice was not only the reason why the first month was consecrated L the celestial, and the second to the terrestrial deities; bat gave birth to a thousand superstitions practices, which in some countries are stHl kept up by those vtaaai reason aa4 religion ought to have undeceived. 66 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. some of Numa's have a concealed meaning; as, | that Numa, having mixed the fountain of which sot to offer to the gods wine proceeding from vine unpruned; nor to sacrifice without meal;* to turn, round when you worshipjf and to sit down when you have worshiped. The two first pre- cepts seem to recommend agriculture as a part of religion. And the turning round in adoration, is said to represent the circular motion of the world. But I rather think, that as the temples opened to- ward the east, such as entered them necessarily turning their backs upon the rising sun, made a half turn to that quarter, in honor of the god of day, and then completed the circle, as well a.s their devotions, with their faces toward the god of the temple. Unless, perhaps, this change of posture may have an enigmatical meaning, like the Egyp- tian wheels, admonishing us of the instability of everything human, and preparing us to acquiesce and rest satisfied with whatever turns and changes the divine Being allots us. As for sitting down after an act. of religion, they tell us it was intended as an ornen of success in prayer, and of lasting happiness afterward. They add, that as actions are divided by intervals of rest, so when one busi- ness was over, they sat down in presence of the gods, that under their auspicious conduct they might begin another. Nor is this repugnant to what has been already advanced; since the law- giver wanted to accustom us to address the deity, not in the midst of business or hurry, but when we have time and leisure to do it as we ought. By this sort of religious discipline the people became so tractable, and were impressed with such a veneration of Numa's power, that they admitted many improbable, and even fabulous tales, and thought nothing incredible or impossible which he undertook. Thus he is said to have invited many of the citizens to his table,* where he took care the vessels should be mean, and the provisions plain and inelegant; but after they were seated, he told them, the goddess with whom he used to converse, was coming to visit him, when, on a sudden the room was supplied with the most costly vessels, and the table with a most magnificent en- tertainment. But nothing can be imagined more absurd "than what is related of his conversation with Jupiter. The story goes, that when mount At>enti7ip. was not enclosed within the walls, nor yet mnabited, but abounded with flowing springs and shady groves, it was frequented by two demi- gods, Picus and Faunus. These, in other respects, were like the Satyrs, or the race of Titans: but in the wonderful feats they performed by their skill in pharmacy and magic more resembled the Idai Dactyli (as the Greeks call them); and thus provided, they roamed about Italy. They tell us, * The principal intention of this precept might be to wean them from the sacrifices of blood, and to bring them to offer only cakes and figures of animals made of paste. t Probably to represent the immensity of the Godhead. itDionysius tells us, that Numa showed these Romans all the rooms of his palace in the morning, meanly furnished, and without any signs of a great entertainment; that he kept them with him great part of the day; and when they returned to sup with him by invitation in the evening, they found everything surprisingly magnificent. It is likely Numa imputed the change to his invisible friend. Diodorus tells us from Ephorus, the Idsei Dactvli were originally from mount Ida in Phrygia, from whence they passed into Europe with king Minos. They settled first in Samothrace, where they taught the inhabitants religious rites. Orpheus is thought to have been their disciple; and the first that carried a form of worship over into Greece. The Dactyli are likewise said to have found out the use of fire, and to have discovered the nature of iron and brass to the inhabitants of the country adjoining to Mount Berecynthus, and to have taught them the way of working them. For this, and many other useful discoveries, they were after uir death worshiped as gods. they used to drink with wine and honey, surprised and caught them. Upon this, they turned them- elves into many forms, and, quitting their natural figure, assumed strange and horrible appearances. But when they found they could not break or escape from the bond that held them, they ac- quainted him with many secrets of futurity and taught him a charm for thunder and lightning, composed of onions, hair, and pilchards, which is used to this day. Others say, these demigods did not communicate the charm, but that by the force of magic they brought down Jupiter from heaven. The god, resenting this at Numa's hands, or- dered the charm to consist of heads. Of Onions, replied Numa. No human. Hairs, said Numa, desirous to fence against the dreadful injunction, and interrupting the god. Living, said Jupiter: Pilchards, said Numa. He was instructed, it seerns, by Egeria, how to manage the matter. Jupiter went away propitious, in Greek ileos, whence the place was called iliceum:* and so the charm was effected. These things, fabulous and ridiculous as they are, show how superstition, con- firmed by custom, operated upon the minds of the people. As for Numa himself, he placed his con- fidence so entirely in God, that when one brought him word the enemy was coming, he only smiled, saying, And I am sacrificing. He is recorded to have been the first that built temples to Fides,^ or Faith, and to Terminus^ and he taught the Romans to swear by faith, as the greatest of oaths; which they still continue to make use of. In our times they sacrifice ani- mals in the fields, both on public and private occasions, to Terminus, as the god of boundaries; but formerly the offering was an inanimate one; for Numa argued that there should be no effusion of blood in the rites of a god, who is the witness of justice, and guardian of peace. It is indeed certain, that Numa was the first who marked out the bounds of the Roman territory; Romulus being unwilling, by measuring out his own, to show how much he had encroached upon the neighbor- ing countries: for bounds, if preserved, are bar- riers against lawless power: if violated, they are evidences of injustice. The territory of the city was by no means extensive at first, but Romulus added to it a considerable district gained by the sword. All this Numa divided among the indi- gent citizens, that poverty might not drive them to rapine; and, as he turned the application of the people to agriculture, their temper was sub- dued together with the ground. For no occupa- tion implants so speedy and so effectual a love of peace, as a country life ; where there remains * This is Plutarch's mistake. Ovid informs us (Fast. I. iii), that Jupiter was called Elicius from elicere, to drain out, because Jupiter was drawn out of- heaven on this occa- sion. t This was intended to make the Romans pay as much regard to their word, as to a contract in writing. And so excellent in fact, were their principles, that Polybius give* the Romans of his time this honorable testimony " They most inviolably keep their word without being obliged to it by bail, witness, or promise; whereas, ten securities, twenty promises, and as many witnesses, cannot hinder the faithless Greeks from attempting to deceive and disappoint you." No wonder, then, that so virtuous a people wera victorious over those that were become thus degenerate and dishpnest. JThe Dii Termini were represented by stones, which Numa caused to be placed n the borders of the Roman state, and of each man's private lands. In honor of these deities, he instituted a festival called Terminalia, which was annually celebrated on th 23d and 22d of February. To remove the Dii Termini was deemed a sacrilege of so heinous a nature, that any man might kill, with impunity, the transgressor. NUM A. 67 Indeed courage and bravery sufficient to defend their property, but the temptations to injustice and avarice are removed. Numa, therefore, intro- duced among his subjects an attachment to hus- bandry as a charm of peace, and contriving a business for them, which would rather form their manners to simplicity, than raise them to opulence, he divided the country into several portions, which he called pagi, or boroughs, and appointed over each of them a governor or overseer. Some- times also he inspected them himself, and judging of the disposition of the people by the condition of their farms, some he advanced to posts of hon- or and trust; and on the other hand, he repri- manded and endeavored to reform the negligent and the idle.* But the most admired of all his institutions is his distribution of the citizens into companies, according to their arts and trades. For the city 'Consisting, as we have observed, of two nations, >r rather factions, who were by no means willing jo unite, or to blot out the remembrance of their mginal difference, but maintained perpetual con- gests and party quarrels; he took the same method jrith them as is used to incorporate hard and oolid bodies, which, while entire, will not mix at all, but when reduced to powder, unite with ease. To atlain this purpose, he divided, as I said, the whole multitude into small bodies, who gain- ing new distinctions, lost by degrees the great and original one, in consequence of their being thus broken into so many parts. This distribu- tion was made according to the several arts or trades of musicians, goldsmiths, masons, dyers, shoemakers, tanners, braziers, and potters. He collected the other artificers also into companies, who had their respective halls, courts, and reli- gious ceremonies, peculiar to each society. By these means he first took away the distinction of Sabines and Romans, subjects of Tatius and sub- jects of Romulus, both name and thing; the very separation into parts mixing and incorporating the whole together. He is celebrated also, in his political capacity, for correcting the law which empowered fathers to sell their children,! excepting such as married by their father's command or consent; for he reckoned it a great hardship that a woman should marry a man as free, and then live with a slave. He attempted the reformation of the calendar too, which he executed with some degree of skill, though not with absolute exactness. In the reign of Romulus, it had neither measure nor order, some months consisting of fewer than twenty days,J while some were stretched to thirty-five, To neglect the cultivation of a farm was considered among the Romans as a censorium probrum; a fault that merited the chastisement of the censor. t Romulus had allowed fathers greater power over their children than masters had over their slaves. For a master could sell his slave but once; whereas a father could sell his son three times, let him he of what age or condition toever. J But Macrobins tells us (Satnrnal. 1. i, c. 12 ), that Ro- mulus settled the number of days with more equality, allot- ting to March, May, Quintilis, and October one and thirty days each; to April, June, Sextilis, November, and De- cember, thirty: making up in all three hundred and four days. Numa was better acquainted with the celestial mo- tions ; and, therefore, in the first place, added the two months of January and February. By the way, it is proba- ble, the reader will think, that neither Romulus, nor any other man, could be so ignorant as to make the lunar year consist of three hundred and four days: and that the Ro- mans reckoned by lunar months, and consequently by the lunar year, originally, is plain, by their calends, nones, and ides. To compose these two months, he added fifty days to tha three hundred and four, in order to make them an- and others even to more. They had no idea of the difference between the annual course of the sun and that of the moon, and only laid dowu this position, that the year consisted of three hun- dred and sixty days. Numa, then, observing that there was a difference of eleven days, three hun- dred and fifty-four days making up the lunar year, and three hundred and sixty-five the solar, dou- bled those eleven days, and inserted them as an intercalary month after that of February, every other year. This additional month was called by the Romans Mercedinus. But this amendment of the irregularity afterward required a farther amendment. He likewise altered the order of the months, making March the third, which was the first ; January first, which was the eleventh of Romulus, and February the second, which was the twelfth and last. Many, however, assert, that the two months of January and February were . added by Numa, whereas before they had reckoned but ten months in the year, as some barbarous nations had but three; and, among the Greeks, the Arcadians four, and the Acarnanians nix. The Egyptian year, they tell us, at first, consisted only of one month, afterward four. And, there- fore, though they inhabit a new country, they seem to be a very ancient people, and reckon in their chronology an incredible number of years, because they account months for years.* That the Roman year contained at first ten months only, and not twelve, we have a proof in the name of the last; for they still call it Decem- ber, or the tenth month; and that March waa the first is also evident, because the fifth from it was called Quintilis, the sixth, Sextilis, and so the rest in their order. If January and February had then been placed before March, the month Quintilis would have been the fifth in name$ but the seventh in reckoning. Beside, it is reasonable to conclude, that the month of. March, dedicated by Romulus to the god Mars, should stand first; and April second, which has its name from Aphrodite or Venus, for in this month the women sacrifice to that goddess, and bathe on the first of it, with crowns of myrtle on their heads. Some, however, say, April derives not its name from Aphrodite; but as the very sound of the term seems to dic- tate, from aptrire, to open, because the spring swer to the course of the moon. Beside this, he observed the difference between the solar and the lunar course to be eleven days ; and, to remedy the inequality, he doubled those days after every two years, adding an interstitial mouth after February; which Plutarch here calls Mercedi- nus; and, in the life of Julius Caesar, Merccdonius. Festus speaks of certain days which he calls Dies Mercedonii, because they were appointed for the payment of workmen and domestics, which is all we know of the word. As Numa was sensible that the solar year consisted of three hundred and sixty-five days and six hours, and that the six hours made a whole day in ibur years, he commanded that the month Mercedinus after every four years, should consist of twenty- three days; but the care of these intercalations being left to the priests,they put in or left out the intercalary day or month, as they fancied it lucky or unlucky; and by that means created such a confusion, that the festivals came, in process of time, to be kept at a season quite contrary to what they had been formerly. The Roman calendar had gained near three months in the days of Julius Caesar, and therefore wanted a great reformation again. * To suppose the Egyptians reckoned months for years does indeed bring their computation pretty near the truth, with respect to the then age of the world; for they reck- oned a succession of kings for the space of 36,000 years.-r- Btit that supposition would make the reigns of their kings unreasonably short. Beside, Herodotus says, the Egyp- tians were the first that began to compute "by years; and that they made the year consist of twelve months. Their boasted antiquity must, therefore, be imputed to their stretching the fabulous part of their history too far back. As to Plutarch's saying that Egypt was a new country, iti* strange that such a notion could* ever be entertained by a man of his knowledge. PLUT A RCH'S LIVES. having then attained its vigor, it opens and unfolds the blossoms of plants. The next month, which is that of May, is so called from Maia, the mother of Mercury; for to him it is sacred. June is so styled from the youthful season of the year. Some again inform us, that these two months borrow their names from the two ages, old and young; for the older meuare called majores, and the young- er juniores. The succeeding months were de- nominated according to the order, of fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth. Afterward Quin- tilis was called July, in honor of Julius Cresar, who overcame Pompey ; and Sextitis, August, from Augustus the second emperor of Rome. To the two following months Dornitian gave his two names of Germanicus and Domitianus, which lasted but a little while; for when he was slain, they resumed their old names, September and October. The two last were the only ones that all along retained the original appellation which they had from their order. February, which was either added or transposed by Numa, is the month of purification; for so the term signifies; and then rites are celebrated for the purifying of trees,* and procuring a blessing on their fruits; then also the feast of the Lupercalia is held, whose ceremonies greatly resemble those of a lustfction. January, the first month, is so named from Janus. And Numa seems to me to have taken away the precedency from March, which is denominated from the god of war, with a design to show his preference of the political virtues to the martial. For this Janus, in the most remote antiquity, whether a demigod or a king, being remarkable for his political abilities and his cultivation of society, reclaimed men from their rude and savage manners; he is therefore represented with two faces, as having altered the former state of the world, and given quite a new turn to life. He hjis also a temple at Rome with two gates, which they call the gates of war. It is the custom for this temple to stand open in the time of war, and to be shut in time of peace. The latter was seldom the case, as the empire has been generally engaged in war on account of its great extent, and its having to con- tend with so many surrounding barbarous nations. It has therefore, been shut only in the reign of Augustus Csesar,t when he had conquered An- tony : and before, in the consulate of Marcus Attiliust and Titus Manlius, a little while; for, a new war breaking out, it was soon opened again. In Numa's reign, however, it was not opened for one day, but stood constantly shut during the space of forty-three years, while uninterrupted peace reigned in every quarter. Not only the people of Rome were softened and humanized by the justice and mildness of the king, but even the Another reading has it, TO/J <|>/TO tvnyi^xtri instead ofTO/f <J>WTO/C: and then the sense will be, they sacrifice to the dead. Both have their authorities; the common readin" being supported by a passage in Ovid, who takes notice that the Luperci purified the ground Secta quia Pellc Luperci Omne solum lustrant. Lib. ii, Fast. And the other, which seems the better, rests upon the au- thority of Varro and others, who mention an ofterin" to the dead in the month of February. Ab dels inferis Februaris appellatus, quod tune his parentetur, if Augustus shut the temple of Janus three several times; one of which was in the year of Rome 750, before the birth of our Saviour, according to Isaiah's prophesy, that all the world should be blessed with peace, when the Prince of Peace was born. This temple was also shut by Vespasian after his triumph over the Jews. t Instead of Marcus we should read Caius Attilius. Titus ManliuK, his colleague, shut the temple of Janus at UM conclusion of the first Punic wai. circumjacent cities, breathing, as it were, the same salutary and delightful air, began to change their behavior. Like the Romans, they became desirous of peace and good laws, of cultivating the ground, educating their children in tranquil- lity, and paying their homage to the gods. Italy then was taken up with festivals and sacrifices, games and entertainments ; the people, without any apprehensions of danger, mixed in a friendly manner, and treated each other with mutual hospi- tality; the love of virtue and justice, as from the source of Numa's wisdom, gently flowing upon all, and moving with the composure of A is heart.- Even the hyperbolical expressions of the poets fall short of describing the happiness of those days. Secure JLrachne spread her slender toils O'er the broad buckler; eating rust consnm'd The vengeful swords and once far-gleaming spears: No more the trump of war swells its hoarse throat, Nor robs the eyelids of their genial slumber.* We have no account of either war or insurrec- tion in the state during Numa's reign. Nay, he experienced neither enmity nor envy; nor did ambition dictate either open or private attempts against his crown. Whether it were the fear of the gods, who took so pious a man under their protection, or reverence of his virtue, or the sin- gular good fortune of his times, that kept the manners of men pure and unsullied; he was an illustrious instance of that truth, which Plato several ag^ after ventured to deliver concerning government: Thai the only sure prospect of deliver- ance from tfie evils of life will be, when the divint Providence shall so order it, that the regal power, invested in a prince who has the sentiments of a phi- losopher, shall render virtue triumphant over vice. A man of such wisdom is not only happy in him- self, but contributes, by his instructions, to the happiness of others. There is, in truth, no need either of force or menaces, to direct the multitude; for when they see virtue exemplified in so glorious a pattern as the life of their prince, they become wise of themselves, and endeavor by friendship and unanimity, by a strict regard to justice and temperance, to form themselves to a happy life. This is the noblest end of government; and he is most worthy of the royal seat who can regulate the lives and dispositions of his subjects in such a manner. No one was more sensible of this than Numa. As to his wives and children, there are great contradictions among historians. For some say, he had no wife but Tatia, nor any child but one daughter named Pornpilia. Others, beside that daughter, give an account of four sons, Pompon, Pinus, Calpus, and Mamercus; every one of which left an honorable posterity, the Pomponii being descended from Pompon, the Pinarii from Pinus, the Calpurnii from Calpus, and the Mamercii from Mamercus. These were surnamed Regis or kings.^ But a third set of writers accuse the former of forging these genealogies from Numa, in order to ingratiate themselves with particular families. And they tell us, that Pornpilia was not the daughter of Tatia, but of Lucretia, another wife, whom he married after he ascended the throne. All, however, agree, that Pompilia was married to Marcius, son of that Marcius who per- * Plutarch took this passage from some excellent rersei of Bacchylides in praise of peace, given us by Stobicus. t Rex was the surname of the ^Emilians or Marcians, bnt not of the Pomponians, the Pinarians, or Mamercians. The Pinarii were descended from a family wlio were priests of Hercules, and more ancient than the times of N U M A . 69 snaded Numa to accept the crown: for he follow- I there were twelve books written in Latin con- ed him to Rome, where he was enrolled a senator, cerning religion, and twelve more of philosophy, and, after Numa's death, was competitor with ' in Greek, buried in that coffin. But four hun- Tullus Hostilius for the throne; but, failing in the dred years after,* when Publius Cornelius and enterprise, lie starved himself to death. His son Marcius, husband to Pompilia, remained in Rome, and had a sou named Aucus Marcius, who reign- ed after Tullus Hostilius. This son is said to have been but five years old at the death of Numa. Marcus Baebius were consuls, a prodigious fall of rain having washed away the earth that covered the coffins, and the lids falling off, one of them appeared entirely empty, without the least remains of the body; in the other the books were found. Numa was Carried off by no sudden or acute Petilius, then Prsetor, having examined them, made distemper: but, as Piso relates, wasted away in- his report upon oath to the senate, that it appear- ed to him inconsistent both with justice and reli- gion, to make them public: in consequence of sensibly with old age and a gentle decline. He was some few years above eighty when he died. The neighboring nations that were in friendship and alliance with Rome, strove to make the honors of his burial equal to the happiness of his life, at- tending with crowns and other public offerings. The senators carried the bier, and the ministers of the gods walked in procession.' The rest of the people, with the women and children, crowded to the funeral ; not, as. if they were attending the interment of an aged king, but as if they had lost one of their beloved relations in the bloom of life; for they followed it with tears and loud lamenta- tions. They did not burn the body,* because (as we are told) he himself forbade it; but they made two stone coffins, and buried them under the Janiculum; the one containing his body, and the other the sacred books which he had written, in the same manner as the Grecian legislators wrote their tables of laws. Numa had taken care, however, in his lifetime, to instruct the priests in all that those books con- tained, and to impress both the sense and practice on their memories. He then ordered them to be buried with him, persuaded that such mysteries could not safely exist in lifeless writing. In- fluenced by the same reasoning, it is said, the Pythagoreans did not commit their precepts to ;7rit:i:g, but intrusted them to the memories of such as they thought worthy of so great a deposit. And when they happened to communicate to an unworthy person their abstruse problems in geo- metry) they gave out that the gods threatened to avenge his profaneness and impiety with some great and signal calamity. Those, therefore may be well excused who endeavor to prove by so many resemblances that Numa was acquainted with Pythagoras. Valerius Antias relates, that * In the most ancient times they committed the bodies of the rlead to the ground, as appears from the history of the patriarchs. Bnt the Egyptians, from a vain desire ofpre- serving their bodies from corruption after death, had them embalmed; persons of condition with rich spices, and even the poor had theirs preserved with salt. The Greeks, to obviate the inconveniences that might possibly happen from corruption, burned the bodies of the dead; but Pliny tells us that Sylla was the first Roman whose bodv was burned. When Paganism was abolished, the burning of dead bodies ceased with it; and in the belief of the resurrection, Chris- tians committed their dead with due care and honor to the arth, 1,o repose there until that great event. which all the volumes were carried into theComi- l.iuni, and burned. Glory follows in the train of great men, and increases after their death; for envy does not long survive them; nay, it sometimes dies before them. The misfortunes, indeed, of the succeeding kings added luster to the character of Numa. Of the five that came after him the last was driven from the throne, and lived long in exile; and of the other four, not one died a natural death Three were traitorously slain. As for Tullu* Hostilius, who reigned next after Numa, he ridi culed and despised many of his best institutions, particularly his religious ones, as effeminate, and tending to inaction; for his view was to dispose the people to war. He did not, however, abide by his irreligious opinions, but falling into a severe and complicated sickness, he changed them for a superstition,t very different from Numa's piety: others, too, were infected with the same false principles, when they saw the manner of his death, which is said to have happened by light- ning.J * Plutarch probably wrote five hundred; for this happened in the year of Pom" 573. " One Tereulies." says Yarrc (ap. S. 'August, dc Civ. Dei~), " had a piece of ground near the Janiculum; and a husbandman of his one day acci- dentally running over Numa's tomb, turned up some of the legislator's books wherein he gave his reasons for estab- lishing the religion of the Romans as he left it. The hus- bandman carried these books to the prffitor, and the praetor to the senate, who, after having read his frivolous reasons for his religious establishments, agreed, that the books should be destroyed, in pursuance of Numa's intentions. It was accordingly decreed, that the praHor should throw them into the fire." But though Numa's motives for the religion he established might be trivial enough, that was not the chief reason for suppressing them. The real, at least, the principal reason, was the many new superstitions, equally trivial, which the Romans had introduced, and the wor- ship which they paid to images, contrary to Numa's ap- pointment. t None are so superstitious in distress as those who in their prosperity have laughed at religion. The famous Ca- non Vossius was no less remarkable for the greatness of his fears, than he was for the littleness of his faith. t The palace of Tullus Hostilius was burned down by lightning; and he with his wife and children, perished in the flames. Though some historians say, that Ancus Mar- cius, who, as the grandson of Numa, expected to succeed to the crown, took the opportunity of the storm to assaisi nate the king. 70 PLUTARCH'S LIVES NUMA AND IYCURGUS COMPARED. HAVING gone through the lives of Numa and Lyeurgus, we must now endeavor (though it is no easy matter) to contrast their actions. The resemblances between them, however, are obvious enough; their wisdom, for instance, their piety, their talents for government, the instruction of their people, and their deriving their laws from a divine source. But the chief of their peculiar dis- tinctions, was Nurna's accepting a crown, and Ly- curgus's relinquishing one. The former received a kingdom without seeking it; the latter resigned one when he had it in possession. Numa was ad- vanced to sovereign power when a private person and a stranger: Lyeurgus reduced himself from a king to a private person. It was an honor to the one to attain to royal dignity by his justice; and it was an honor to the other to prefer justice to that dignity. Virtue rendered the one so respect- able as to deserve a throne, and the other so great as to be above it. The second observation, is that both managed their respective governments, as musicians do the lyre, each in a different manner. Lyeurgus wound up the strings of Sparta, which he found relaxed with luxury, to a stronger tone: Numa softened the high and harsh tone of Rome. The former had the more difficult task. For it was not their swords and breastplates, which he per- suaded his citizens to lay aside, but their gold and silver, their sumptuous beds and tables; what he taught them was not to devote their time to feasts and sacrifices, after quitting the rugged paths of war, but to leave entertainments and the pleasures of wine, for the laborious exercises of arms and the wrestling ring. Numa effected his purposes in a friendly way by the regard and veneration the people had for his person; Lyeurgus had to struggle with conflicts and dangers, before he could establish his laws. The genius of Numa was more mild and gentle, softening and attem- pering the fiery dispositions of his people to jus- tice and peace. If we be obliged to admit the sanguinary and unjust treatment of the Helotes, as a part of the politics of Lyeurgus, we must allow Numa to have been far the more humane and equitable lawgiver, who permitted absolute slaves to taste of the honor of freemen, and in the Saturna- lia to be entertained along with their masters.* For this also they tell us was one of Numa's in- stitutions, that persons in a state of servitude shou Id be admitted, at least once a year, to the liberal en- joyment of those fruits which they had helped to raise. Some however pretend to find in this cus- tom the vestiges of the equality which subsisted in the times of Saturn, when there was neither servant nor master, but all were upon the same footing, and, as it were, of one family. * The Saturnalia was a feast celebrated on the J4th of the calends of January. Beside the sacrifices in honor of Saturn, who, upon his retiring into Italy, introduced there the happiness of the golden age, servants were at this time indulged in mirth and freedom, in memory of the equality which prevailed in that age; presents we're sent from one friend to another; and no war was to be proclaimed, or of- fender executed. It is uncertain when this festival was in- stituted. Macrobins says, it was celebrated in Italy lon<* before the building of Rome; and probably he is right, for the Greeks kept the same feast under the name of Clironia. Maorob. Saturn., 1. i, c. 7. Both appeared to have been equally studious to lead their people to temperanc'e aiu sobriety. As to the other virtues, the one was more attached to fortitude and the other to justice. Though possibly the different nature and quality of their respective governments required a different process. For it was not through want of courage, but to guard against injustice, that Numa restrained his subjects from war: nor did Lyeurgus endeavor to infuse a martial spirit into his people, with a view to en- courage them to injure others, but to guard them against being injured by invasions. As each had the luxuriances of his citizens to prune, and their deficiencies to fill up, they must necessarily make very considerable alterations. Numa's distribution of the people was indulgent and agreeable to the commonalty, as with him a various and mixed mass of goldsmiths, musicians, shoemakers, and other trades, composed the body of the city. But Lyeurgus inclined to the nobility in modeling his state, and he proceeded in a severe and unpopular manner; putting all mechan- ic arts into the hands of slaves and strangers, while the citizens were only taught how to man- age the spear and shield. They were only artists in war, and servants of Mars, neither knowing nor desiring to know anything but how to obey, command, and conquer their enemies. That tne freemen might be entirely and once for all free, he would not suffer them to give any attention to their circumstances, but that whole business was to be left to the slaves and Helotes, in the same manner as the dresbtng of their meat. Numa made no such distinction as this: he only put a stop to the gain of rapine. Not eolicitous to prevent an inequality of substance, he forby.de no other mean* of increasing the fortur.es of his subjects, nor then rising to the greatest opulence; neither did he guard against pova^ty, vvhieh at thj same time made its way into, and spread ii *he cit-, . While there was no gren disparity hi the posje'-.sions of his citizens, but fi\\ were rnodcraiely provided, he should at first have combated the desire of gain; and like Lycur/,us have watched against its incon- veniences: forihose were by no means inconsidera- ble, but such s.s gave birth to the many and great troubles that happened in the Roman state. As to an equal division of lands, neither was Lyeurgus to blame fo T making it, nor Numa for not making it. The equality which it caused, afforded the former a firm foundation for his government; and the latter finding a division already made, and probably as yet subsisting entire, had no occasion to make a new one. With respect to the community of wives and children, each took a politic method to banish jealousy. A Roman husband, when he had a sufficient number of children, and was applied to by one that had none, might give up his wife ta him,* and was at liberty both to divorce her, and to take her again. But the Lacedaemonian, while his wife remained in his house, and the marriage subsisted in its original force, allowed his friend, who desired to have children by her, the use of * It does not appear that Numa gave any sanction to thi liberty. Plutarch himself says a little below, thac nv di vorce was known in Koine until !oug after. NUMA AND LYCURGUS COMPARED 71 his bed: and (as we have already observed) many husbands invited to their houses such men as were likely to give them healthy and well made children. The difference between the two customs, is this, that the Lacedaemonians appeared very easy and unconcerned about an affair that in other places causes so much disturbance, and consumes men's hearts with jealousy and sorrow; while among the Romans there was a modesty, which vailed the matter with a new contract, and seemed to declare that a community in wedlock is intolerable. Yet farther, Numa's strictness as to virgins ten- ded to form them to that modesty winch is the or- namentof their sex: but the great liberty which Ly- curgusga.ve them, brought upon them the censure of the poets, particularly Xbicus; for they call them Ph&nomerides, and Aitdromancis. Euripides des- cribes them in this manner, Tlie.se quit their homes, ambitious to display, Amidst the youths their vigor in the race, Or feats of wrestling, whilst their airy r robe Flies back, and leaves their limbs uncover'd. The skirts of the habit which the virgins wore were not sowed to the bottom, but opened at the sides as they walked, and discovered the thigh: as Sophocles very plainly writes: Still in the light dress struts the vain Hermione, Whose opening folds display the uked thigh. Consequently their behavior is said to have been too bold aud too masculine, in particular to their husbands. For they considered themselves as ab- solute mistresses in their houses; nay they wanted a share in affairs of state, and delivered their senti- ments with great freedom concerning the most weighty matters. But Numa, though he preser- ved entire to the matrons all the honor and respect that were paid them by their husbands in the time of Rornulus. when they endeavored by kindne to compensate for the rape, yet he obliged them to behave with great reserve, and to lay aside al impertinent curiosity. He taught them to be so- ber, and accustomed them to silence, entirely to abstain from wine,* and not to speak even of the most necessary affairs except in the presence of their husbands. When a woman once appeared in the forum to plead her own cause, it is reported that the senate ordered the oracle to be consulted. what this strange event portended to the cil.y.-f Nay what is recorded of a few infamous women is a proof of the obedience and meekness of the Roman matrons in general. For as our histori- ans give us accounts of those who first carried war into the bowels of their country or against their brothers, or were first guilty of parricide; so the Romans relate, that Spurius Carvilins was the first among them that divorced his wife, when no such thing had happened before for two hundred and thirty years from the building of Rome,i and that Thaloea, the wife of Pinarrius, was the first that quarreled, having a uispute with her mother- in-law Gfgania, in the reign of Tarquin thz proud. So well framed for the preserving of decency * Romulus made the drinking of wine, as well as adul- tery, a capital crime in women. For he said, alultery opens the door to all sorts of crimes, and wine opens the door to adultery. The severity of this law was softened in succeeding age's; the women who were overtaken in liquor, were not condemned to die, but to lose their dowers. t What then appeared so strange, became afterward com- mon enough; insomuch that every troublesome woman of that kind was called Afrania, from a senator's wife of that name who busied herself much in courts of justice. The eloquent Hortensia, daughter to the orator Hortensius, pleaded with such success for the women, when the trium- virs had laid a fine upon them, 'hat she got a considerable part of it remitted. t It was on the 520th year of Rome that this hap- pened. and a propriety of behavior were this lawgiver's regulation* with respect to marriage. Agreeably to the education of virgins in Sparta, were the directions of Lycurgus as to the time of their being married. For he ordered them to be married when both their age and wishes led them to it; that the company of a husband, which na- ture now required, might be the foundation of kindness and love, a.nd not of fear and hatred, which would be the consequence when nature was forced; and that their bodies might have strength to bear the troubles of breeding and the pangs 6f child-birth; the propagation of children being look- ed upon as the only end of marriage. ]j u t the Ro- mans married their daughters at the age uf twelve years, or under; that both their bodies and manners might come pure and untainted into the manage- ment of their husbands. It appears then that the former institution more naturally tended to the procreation of children, and the latter to the form- ing of the manners for the matrimonial union. However, in the education of the boys, in regula- ting their class -s, and laying down the whole method of their exercises, their diversions, and their eating at a common table, Lycurgu? stands distinguished, and leaves Numa only upon a level with ordinary lawgivers. For Numa left it to the option or con- venience of parents to bring up their sons to agri- culture, to ship building, to the business of a bra- zier, or the art of a musician. As if it were not necessary for one design to run through the education of them all, and for each individual to have the same bias given him; but, as if they were all like passengers in a ship, who coming each from a different employment, and with a different intent, stand upon their common defense in time of danger, merely out of fear for themselves or their property, and on other occasions are attentive only to their private ends. In such a case com- mon legislators would have been excusable, who might have failed through ignorance or want of power; but should not so wise a man as Numa, who took upon him the government of a state so lately formed, and not likely to make the least op- position to anything he proposed, have consider- ed it his first care, to give the children such a bent of education, aud the youth such a mode of exer- cise, as would prevent any great difference or confusion in their manners, that so they might be formed from their infancy, an 1 persuaded to walk together, in ihe same paths of virtue? Lycnrgus found the utility of this in several respects, and par- ticularly in securing the continuance of his laws. For the oath the Spartans had taken, would have availed but little, if the youth had not been already tinctured with his discipline, anJ trained to a zeal for his establishment. Nay, so strong and deep was the tincture, that the principal laws which he enacted continued in force for moie than five hun- dred years. But the primary view of Numa's government, which was to settle the Romans in lasting peace and tranquillity, immediately vanish- ed with him: and, after his death, the temple of Janus, which he had kept shut (as if he had really held war in prison and subjection) was set wido open, and Italy was filled with blood.* The beautiful pile of justice which he had reared pres- ently fell to the ground, being without the cement of education. You will say then, was not Rome bettered by her wars? A question this which wants a long answer, to satisfy such as place the happiness of a state in riches, luxury, and an extent of domin- * In the wars with the Fidenates, 'Jie Albans, and th Latins. T2 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ion, rather than in security, equity, temperance, and content. It may seem, however, to afford an argument in favor of Lycurgus, that the Romans, upon quitting the discipline of Numa, soon arrived at a much higher degree of power; whereas the Lacedaemonians, as soon as they departed from the institutions of Lycurgus, from being the most respectable people of Greece, became the meanest, and were in danger of being absolutely destroyed. On the other hand it must be acknowledged some- thing truly great and divine in Numa, to be !n vitedfrom another country to the throne; to makt. so many alterations by means of persuasion only; to reign undisturbed over a city not yet united in itself, without the use of an armed force (which Lycurgus was obliged to have recourse to, when he availed himself of the aid of the nobility against the commons), and by his wisdom and justice alone to conciliate and combine all his subjects in peace. SOLON.* DIDYMUS, the grammarian, in his answer to As- elepiaJes concerning the laws of Solon, cites the testimony of one Philocles, by which he would prove Solon the son of Euphorion, contrary to the opinion of others that have written of him. For they all with one voice declare that Execes- tides was his father; a man of moderate fortune and power, but of tlie noblest family in Athens, being descended from Godrus. His mother, ac- corJhig to Heraelides of Pontus, was cousin-ger- man to the mother of Pisistratus. This tie of kindred at first united Solon and Pisistratus in a very intimate friendship, which was drawn closer (if we may believe some writers) by the regard which the former had for the beauty and excel- lent qualities of the latter.* Hence we may be- lieve it was, that when they differed afterward about matters of st;tte, this dissension broke not out into any harsh or ungenerous treatment of each other; but their first union kept some hold of their hearts, some sparks of me Jiame siili re- mained, and the. tenderness of former friendship was not quite forgotten. ******** ******** Solon's father having hurt his fortune,^ as Hermippus tells us, by indulging his great and munificent spirit, though the son might have been supported by his friends, yet as he was of a family that had long been assisting to others, he was * Folon flourished about the year before Christ 597. t Pi.-istratus was remarkably courteous, affable, and libe- ral. He had always two or three slaves near him with bags f silver coin: when, he saw any man look sickly, or heard that any died insolvent, he relie'ved the one, and buried the other, at his own expense. If he perceived people melan- choly, he inquired the canse; and if he found it was pover- ty, he furnished them with what might enable them to get bread, but not to live idlv. Nay, he left even his gardens and orchards open, and the fruit free to the citizens. His looks were easy and sedate, his language soft and modest. In short, if his virtues had been genuine, and not dissembled, with a view to the tyranny of Athens, he would (as Solon told him) have been the best citizen in it. J Aristotle reckons Solon himself among the inferior citi- zens, ami quotes his own works to prove it. The truth is, that, Solon was never rich, it may be, because he was al- ways honest. In his youth he was mightily addicted to poetry. And Plato (in Titnato) says, that if he had fin- ished all his poems, and particularly" the History of the At- lantic Island, which he brought out of Egypt, and had taken time to revise and correct them as others did, neither Homer, Hesiod, nor any other ancient poet, would have been more famous. It is evident both from the life and writ- ings of this great man, that he was a person not only of ex- alted virtue, but. of a pleasant and agreeable temper. He considered men as men; and keeping both their capacity for virtue, and their proneness to evil in his view, he adapted his laws so as to strengthen and support the one, and to check and keep under the other. His institutions are as remarka- ble lor their sweetness and practicability, as those of Lycur- gus ate for harshness and forcing Iranian nature. ashamed to accept of assistance himself; and there- fore in his younger years applied himself to mer- chandise. Some, however, say that he traveled rather to gratify his curiosity and extend his knowledge than to raise an estate. For he pro- fessed his love of wisdom, and when far advanced in years made this declaration, / grow old in the pursuit of learning. He was not too rnujh at- tached to wealth, as we may gather from the fol- lowing verses: The man that boasts of golden stores, Of grain that loads his bending floors, Of fields with fresh'ning herbage green, Where bounding steeds and herds are ssen, 1 call not happier than the swain Whose limbs are sound, whose food is plain Whose joys a blooming wife endear, Whose hours a smiling offspring ci- jars.* Yet in another place he says: The flow of riches, though deswed, Life's real goods, if well acquired, Lest vengeance follow in theii train. Indeed, a good man, a valuable member of so- ciety, should neither set his heart upon super- fluities, nor reject the use of what is necessary and convenient. And in those times, as Hesiod -J informs us, no business was looked upon as a dis- paragement, nor did any trade cause a disadvanta- geous distinction. The profession of merchandise was honorable, as it brought home the produce of barbarous countries, engaged the friendship of kings, and opened a wide field of knowledge and experience. Nay, some merchants have been founders of great cities; Protus, for instance, that built Marseilles, for whom the Gauls about the Rhone had the highest esteem. Thales also, and Hippocrates the mathematician, are said to have had their share in commerce; and the oil that Plato disposed of in Egypt J defrayed the expense of his travels. If Solon was too expensive and luxurious in his way of living, and indulged his poetical vein in his description of pleasure too freely for a philo- sopher, it is imputed to his mercantile life. For as he passed through many and great dangers, he might surely compensate them with a little relaxa- tion and enjoyment. But that he placed himself rather in the class of the poor than the rich, is evident from these lines: For vice, though Plenty fills her horn: And virtue sinks in want and scorn; * This passage of Solon's, and another below, are now found among the sentences of Theognis. t Lib. Ob, and Di., ver. 309. t It was usual to trade into Egypt with the oil of Greece and Jndea. It is said in the prophet iiosea (c. xii, v. \) t Ephraim carrieth oil into Egypt. SOLON. \Tet never, sure, shall Solon change His truth for wealth's most easy range! Since virtue lives, and truth shall stand. While wealth eludes the grasping hand. He seems to have made use of his poetical talent at first, not for any serious purpose, hut only for amusement, and to fill up his hours of leisure; but afterward lie inserted moral sentences, and inter- wove many political transactions in his poems, not for the sake of recording or remembering them, but sometimes by way of apology for his own ad- ministration, and sometimes to exhort, to advise, or to censure the citizens of Athens. Some are of opinion, that he attempted to put his laws too in verse, and they give us this beginning: Supreme of gods, whose power we first address, This plan to honor and these laws to bless. Like most of the sages of those times, he cul- tivated chiefly that part of moral philosophy which treats of civil obligations. His physics were of a very simple and ancient cast, as appears from the following lines: From cloudy vapors falls the treasur'd snow, And the fierce hail: from lightning's rapid blaze Springs the loud thunder winds disturb the deep, Than whose unruffled breast, no smoother scene In all the works of nature! Upon the whole, Thales seems to have been the only philosopher who then carried his speculations beyond things in common use, while the rest of the wise men maintained their character by rules for social life. They are reported to have met at Delphi, and afterward at Corinth upon the invitation of Perian- der, who made provision for their entertainment. But what contributed most to their honor was their sending the tripod from one to another, with ail ambition to outvie each other in modesty. The story is this: When some Coans were draw- kig a net, certain strangers from Mile.lus bought the draught unseen. It proved to be a golden tripod, which Helen, as she sailed from Troy, is said to have thrown in there,' in compliance with an ancient oracle. A dispute arising at first be- tween the strangers and the fishermen about the tripod, and afterward extending itself to the states to which they belonged, so as almost to engage them in hostilites, the priestess of Apollo took up the matter, by ordering that the wisest man they could find should have the tripod. And first it was sent to Thales at Miletus, the Coans volun- tarily presenting that to one of the Milesians, for which they would have gone to war with them all. Thales declared that Bias was a wiser man than he, so it was brought to him. He sent it to another, as wiser still. After making a farther circuit, it came to Thales the second time. And at last, it was carried from Miletus to Thebes; and dedicated to the Ismenian Apollo. Theophrastus relates, that the tripod was first sent to Bias at Priene ; that Bias sent it hack again to Thales at Miletus; that so having passed through the hands of the Seven, it carne round to Bias again, and at last was sent to the temple of Apollo at Delphi. This is the most current account; yet some say the pre- sent was not a tripod, but a bowl sent by Croesus; and others, that it was a cup which one Bathycles had left for that purpose. We have a particular account of a conversation which Solon had with Anacharsis,* and of another * The Scythians, long before the days of Solon, had been celebrated for their frugality, their temperance, and justice. Anacharsis was one of these Scythians, and a prince of the blood. He went to Athens about the 47th Olympiad, that is, 590 years before Christ. His good sense, his know- Jdge, and great experience, made him pass for one of the he had with Thales. Anacharsis went to Solon'8 house at Athens, knocked at the door, and said, he, was a stranger who desired to enter into engage- ments of friendship and mutual hospitality with him. Solon answered, Friendships are best formed at koine. Then do you, said Anacharsis, who are at home, make me your friend, and receive me into your house. Struck with the quickness of his re- partee, Solon gave him a kind welcome, and kept him some time with him, being then employed in public affairs, and in modeling his laws. When Anacharsis knew what Solon was about, he laugh- ed at his undertaking, and at the absurdity of imagining he could restrain the avarice and in- justice of his citizens by written laws, which in all respects resembled spiders' webs, and would, like them, only entangle and hold the poor and weak, while the rich and powerful easily broke through them. To this, Solon replied, Men keep their agreement* when it is an advantage to both parties not to break them; and he would so frame his laws, as to make it evident to the Athenians, that it would be more for their interest to observe than to transgress them. The event, however, showed that Anacharsis was nearer the truth in his conjecture, than Solon was in his hope. Anacharsis having seen an assembly of the people at Athens, said he was surprised at this, that in Greece wise men pleaded causes, and fools determined them. When Solon was entertained by Thales at Mile- tus, he expressed some wonder that he did not marry and raise a family. To this, Thales gave no immediate answer; but some days after he in- structed a stranger to say, that he came from Athens ten days before. Solon inquiring, What news there was at Athens, the man, according to -his instruc- tions, said, None, except the funeral of a young man, which was attended by the whole city. For he was the son (as they told me) of a person of great honor, and of the highest reputation for virtue, ton* was then abroad upon his travels. What a miser- able man is he, said Solon: but what was his name? I have heard his name, answered the stranger, but do not recollect it. All I remember is, that there was much talk of his wisdom and justice. Solon, whose apprehensions increased with every reply, was now much disconcerted and mentioned his own name; asking, Whether it was not Solon's son that teas dead? The stranger answering in the affirma- tive, he began to beat his head, and to do and say such things as are usual to men in a transport of grief.* Then Thales, taking him by the hand, said, with a smile, These things, which strike down so jirm a man as Solon, kept me from marriage and from having children. But, take courage, my good friend, for not a word of what has been told you is true. Hermippus says, he took this story from Pataecus, who used to boast he had the soul of ^Esop. But after all, to neglect the procuring of what is necessary or convenient in lite, for fear of losing it, would be acting a very mean and absurd part; by the same rule a man might refuse the enjoyment of riches, or honor, or wisdom, because it is possible for him to be deprived of them. Even gre; their inconsistencies; for such it certainly was, for Anach-ir- sis to carry the Grecian worship, the rites of Cybele. into Scythia, contrary to the laws of his country. Though he performed those rites privately in a woody part of the coun- try, a Scythian happened to see him, and acquainted the king with it, who came immediately and shot him with an arrow upon the spot. Herodot,, 1. iv, c. 76. * Whether on this occasion, or on the real loss of a son, is uncertain, Solon being desired not to weep, since weep. injj would avail nothing; he answered, with much humanity and good sense, And for this cause I weep. 74 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. the excellent qualities of the mind, the most valua- ble and pleasing possession in the world we see de- stroyed by poisonous drugs, or by the violence of some disease. Nay, Thales himself could not be secure from fears, by living single, unless he would renounce all interest in his friends, his re- lations, and his country. Instead of that, how- ever, he is said to have adopted his sister's son, named Cybisthus. Indeed the soul has not only a principle of sense, of understanding, of me- mory, but of love; and when it has nothing at home to fix its affection upon, it unites itself, and cleaves to something abroad. Strangers, or per- sons of spurious birth often insinuate themselves into such a man's heart, as into a house or land that has no lawful heirs, and, together with love, bring a train of cares and apprehensions for them. It is not uncommon to hear persons of a morose temper, who talk against marriage and a family, uttering the most abject complaints, when a child which they have had by a slave or a concubine, happens to sicken or die. Nay, some have ex- pressed a very great regret upon the death of dogs and horses; while others have borne the loss of valuable children, without any affliction, or at least without any indecent sorrow, and have passed the rest of their days with calmness and composure. It is certainly weakness, not affec- tion, which brings infinite troubles and fears upon men who are not fortified by reason against the power of fortune; who have no enjoyment of a present good, because of their apprehensions, and the real anguish they find in considering that, in time, they may be deprived of it. No man, surely, should take refuge in poverty, to guard against the loss of an estate; nor remain in the unsocial state of celibacy, that he may have neither friends nor children to lose ; he should be armed by reason against all events. But, perhaps, we have been too diffuse in these senti- ments. When the Athenians, tired out with a long and troublesome war against the Megarensians for the isle of Salamis, made a law, that no one for the future, under pain of death, should either by speech or writing, propose that the city should assert its claim to that island; Solon was very un- easy at so dishonorable a decree, and seeing great part of the youth desirous to begin the war again, being restrained from it only by fear of the law, he feigned himself insane;* and a report spread from his house into the city, that he was out of his senses. Privately, however, he had composed an elegy, and got it by heart, in order to repeat it in public; thus prepared, he sallied out unexpect- edly into the market-place, with a cap upon his head.f A great number of people flocking about him there, he got upon the herald's stone, and sung the elegy which begins thus: Hear and attend: from Salamis I came To show your error. This composition is entitled Salamis, and con- sists of a hundred very beautiful lines. When Solon had done, his friends began to express their admiration, and Pisistratus, in particular, exerted himself in persuading the people to comply with * When the Athenians were delivered from their fears bj the death of Epaminondas, they began to squander away upon shows and plays the money that had been as- signed for the pay of the army and navy, and at the same time they made it death for any one to propose a reforma- tion. In that case, Demosthenes did not, like Solon, at- tack their error, under a pretense of insanity, but boldly and resolutely spoke against it, and by the force of his elo- quence brought them to correct it. t None wore caps but the sick. his directions; whereupon they repealed the law, once more undertook the war, and invested Solou with the command. The common account of his proceedings is this: He sailed with Pisistratus to Colias, and having seized the women, who, ac- cording to the custom of the country, were offering sacrifice to Ceres there, he sent a trusty person to Salamis, who was to pretend he was a deserter, and to advise the Megarensians, if they had a mind to seize the principal Athenian matrons, to set sail immediately for Colias. The Megaren- sians readily embracing the proposal, and sending out a body of men, Solon discovered the ship as it put off from the island; and causing the women directly to withdraw, ordered a number of young men, whose faces were yet smooth, to dress them- selves in their habits, caps, and shoes. Thus^ with weapons concealed under their clothes, they were to dance, and play by the sea-side until the enemy was landed, and the vessel near enough to be seized. Matters being thus ordered, the Me- garensians were deceived with the appearance, and ran confusedly on shore, striving which should first lay hold on the women. But they met with so warm a reception, that they were cut off to a man; and the Athenians embarking im- mediately for Salamis, took possession of tha island. Others deny that it was recovered in this man- ner, and tell us, that Apollo, being first consulted at Delphi, gave this answer: Go, first propitiate the country's chiefs Hid in ^Esopus' lap, who, when interr'd, Fac'd the declining sun. Upon this, Solon crossed the sea by night, and offered sacrifices in Salamis, to the heroes Peri- phemus and Cichreus. Then taking five hundred Athenian volunteers, who had obtained a decree that, if they conquered the island, the govern- ment of it should be invested in them, he sailed with a number of fishing vessels and one galley of thirty oars for Salamis, where he cast anchor at a point which looks toward Eubcea. The Megarensians that were in the place, hav- ing heard a confused report of what had happened, betook themselves in a disorderly manner to arm, and sent a ship to discover the enemy. As the ship approached too near, Solon took it, and, securing the crew, put in their place some of the bravest of the Athenians, with orders to make the best of their way to the city, as privately as possible. In the meantime, with the rest of his men, he attacked the Megarensians by land ; and while these were engaged, those from the ship took the city. A custom which obtained afterward, soems to bear witness to the truth of this account. For ;m Athenian ship, once a year, passed silently to Salamis, and the inhabitants coming down upon it with noise and tumult, one man in armor leaped ashore, and ran shouting toward the promontory of Sciradium, to meet those that were advancing by land. Near that place is a temple of Mars, erected by Solon; for there it was that he defeated the Megarensians, and dismissed, upon certain conditions, such as were not slain in battle. However, the people of Megara persisted in their claim until both sides had severely felt the calamities of war, and then they referred the affair to the decision of the Lacedaemonians. Many authors relate that Solon availed himself of a passage in Homer's catalogue of ships, which he alleged before the arbitrators, dexterously, insert- ing a line of his own; for to this verse, Ajax from Salamis twelve ships commands, he is said to have added, SOLON. 75 Ar.d ranKs his forces with the Athenian power.* But the Athenians look upon this as an idle story, and tell us, that Solon made it appear to the judges, that Philseus and Eurysaces, sons of Ajax, being admitted by the Athenians to the freedom of their city, gave up the island to them, and removed, the one to Brauron, and the other to Melite in Attica: likewise, that the tribe of the Philaidae, of which Pisistratus was, had its name from that Philseus. He brought another argu- ment against the Megarensians, from the manner of burying in Salamis, which was agreeable to the custom of Athens, and not to that of Megara; for the Megarensians inter the dead with their faces to the east, and the Athenians turn theirs to the west. Oil the other hand, Hereas of Megara in- sists, that the Megarensians likewise turn the faces of the dead to the west; and, what is more, that, like the people of Salamis, they put three or four corpses in one tomb, whereas the Athe- nians have a separate tomb for each. But Solon's cause was farther assisted by certain oracles of Apollo, in which the island was called Ionian Salamis. This matter was determined by five Spartans ; Critolaides, Amompharetus, Hypsechi- das, Anaxilas, and Cleomenes. Solon acquired considerable honor and authority in Athens by this affair; but he was much more celebrated among the Greeks in general, for ne- gotiating succors for the temple at Delphi, against the insolent and injurious behavior of the Cir- rhseans, andf persuading the Greeks to arm for the honor of the god. At this motion it was that ihe Amphictyons declared war; as Aristotle, among others, testifies, in his book concerning the Pyth- ian games, where he attributes that decree to So- lon. He was not, however, appointed general in that war, as Hermippus relates from Euanthes the Samian. For jEschines the orator says no such thing; and we find in the records of Delphi, that AlcmiBon, not Solon, commanded the Athenians on that occasion. The execrable proceedings against the accom- plices of Cylont had long occasioned great trou- * This line could be no sufikient evidence; for there are mnny passages in Homer which prove that, the ships of Ajax were stationed near the Thessalians. 't The inhabitants of Cirrha, a town seated in the bay of Coiinth, after having by repeated incursions wasted the territory of Delphi, besieged the chv itself, from a desire of making themselves masters of the riches contained in the '.emple of Apollo. Advice of this being sent to the jiiiiijlncti/mif, who were the states general of Greece, Solon advised that this matter should be universally resented. Accordingly, Clysthenes, tyrant of Sieyon, was sent com- mander-iii-chief against the Cirrha'ans; AJcma:on was gen- eral of the Athenian quota; and Solon went as counselor or assistant, to Clysthenes. When the Greek army had be- kiegeii Cirrha some time, without any great appearance of success, Apollo was consulted, who answered, that they should not be able to reduce the place, until the waves of the Cirrha-an sea washed the territories of Delphi. This answer struck the army with surprise, from which Solon ex- tricated them by advising Clysthenes to consecrate the whole terriiories of Cirrha to the Delphic Apollo, whence it would follow that the sea must wash the sacred coast. Pausanias (in Phocisis") mentions another stratagem, which was not worthy of the justice of Solon. Cirrha, however, was taken, and became henceforth the arsenal of Delphi. j There was, for a long time after the democracy took place, ;t strong party against it, who left no measures un- tried, in order, if possible, to restore their ancient form of government. Cylon, a man of quality, and son-in-law to Theagenes, tyrant of Megara, repined at the sudden change of the magistrates, and hated the thoughts of asking that as a favor, which lie apprehended to be due to his birth- light. He formed, therefore, a design to seize the citadel, which he put in practice in the 45th Olympiad, when many of the citizens were gone to the Olympic games. Megacles, who was at that time chief archon, with the other magis- trates and the whole power of Athens, immediately be- lieged the conspirators there, and reduced them to such dis- tress, that Cylon and his brother tied, and left the meaner bles in the Athenian state. The conspirators had taken sanctuary in Minerva's temple; but Mega- cles, then Archon, persuaded them to quit it, and stand trial, under the notion that if they tied a thread to the shrine of the goddess, and kept hold of it, they would still be under her protection. But when they came over against the temple of the Furies, the thread broke of itself; upon which Megacles and his colleagues rushed upon them and seized them, as if they had lost their privilege. Such as were out of the temple were stoned; those that fled to the altars were cut in pieces there; and they only were spared who made application to the wives of the magistrates. From that time those magistrates were called execrable, und be- came objects of the public hatred. The remains of Cy Ion's faction afterward recovered strength, and kept up the quarrel with the descendants of Megacles. The dispute was greater than ever, and the two parties more exasperated, when So- lon, whose authority was now very great, and ethers of the principal Athenians, interposed and by entreaties and arguments persuaded the persons called execrable to submit to justice and a fair trial, before three hundred judges selected from the nobility. Myron, of the Phylensian ward, carried on the impeachment, and they were con- demned: as many as were alive were driven into exile, and the bodies of the dead dug up and cast out beyond the borders of Attica. Amidst these disturbances, the Megarensians, renewed the war, took Nisaethe from the Athenians, and recovered Salamis once more. About this time the city was likewise afflicted with superstitious fears and strange appearances: and the soothsayers declared that there were cer- tain abominable crimes which wanted expiation, pointed out by the entrails of the victims. Upon this they sent to Crete for Epimenides the Phas- tian,* who is reckoned the seventh among the wise men, by those that do not admit Periander into the number. He was reputed a man of great piety, beloved by the gods, and skilled in matters of religion, particularly in what related to inspira- tion and the sacred mysteries, therefore the men of those days called him the son of the nymph Balte, and one of the Curetes revived. When he arrived at Athens, he contracted a friendship with Solon, and privately gave him considerable assistance, preparing the way for the reception of his laws. For he taught the Athenians to be more frugal in their religious worship, and more moderate in their mourning, by intermixing certain sacrifices with the funeral solemnities, and abolishing the cruel and- barbarous customs that had generally prevailed among the women before. What is of still greater consequence, by expiations, lustra- tions, and the erecting of temples and shrines he sort to shift for themselves. Such as escaped the sword, took refuge, as Plutarch relates, in Minerva's temple; and though they deserved death for conspiring against the go- vernment, yet, as the magistrates put them to death in breach of the privilege of sanctuary, they brought upon themselves the indignation of the superstitions Athenians, who deemed such a breach a greater crime than treason. * This Epimenides was a very extraordinary person. Diogenus Laertius tells us, that he was the inventor of the art of lustrating or purifying houses, fields, and persons; which, if spoken of Greece, may be true; but Moses had long before taught the Hebrews something of this nature (vide Levit. xvi). Epimenides took some sheep that were all black, and others that were all white; these he led into the Areopagus, and turning them loose, directed certain persons to follow them, who should mark where they couched, and there sacrifice them to the local deity. This being done, altars were erected in all these places, to perpetuate the memory of this solemn expiation. There were, however, other ceremonies practiced for the purpose of lustration, of which T/etzes, in his poetical chronicle, gives a particulai account, bat which are too trifling to be mentioned here. PLUTARCH'S LIVES. lowed and purified the city, and made the peo- more observant of justice aud more inclined 10 union. When he had seen Municliia, and considered it some time, he is reported to have said to those about him,* How blind is man to futurity' If the Athenians could foresee what trouble that place will give them, they would tear it in pieces with their teeth, retlier than it should stand. Something similar to this is related of T hales. For he ordered the Mile- sians to bury him in a certain refuse and neglect- ed place, and foretold at the same time, that their market-place would one day stand there. As for Epiinenides, he was held in admiration at Athens; great honors were paid him, and many valuable presents made: yet he would accept of nothing but a branch of the sacred olive, which they gave him at his request; and with that he departed. When the troubles about Cylon's affair were over, and the sacrilegious persons removed in the man- ner we have mentioned, the Athenians relapsed into their old disputes concerning the government; for there were as many parties among them as there were different tracts of land in their coun- try. The inhabitants of the mountainous part were, it seems, for a democracy; those of the plains, for an oligarchy; and those of the sea-coast contending for a mixed kind of government, hin- dered the other two from gaining their point. At the same time, the inequality between the poor and the rich occasioned the greatest discord, and the state was in so dangerous a situation, that there seemed to be no way to quell the seditious, or to save it from ruin, but changing it to a monarchy. So greatly were the poor in debt to the rich, that they were obliged either to pay them a sixth part of the produce of the land (whence they were called Hectcmorii and Thetes) or else to engage their persons to their creditors, who might seize them on failure of payment. Accordingly some made slaves of them, and others sold them to foreigners. Nay, some parents were forced to sell their own children (for no law forbade it,) and to quit the city, to avoid the severe treatment of those usurers, but the greater number, and men of the most spirit, agreed to stand by each other, and to bear such impositions no longer. They determined to choose a trusty person for their leader to deliver those who had failed in their time of payment, to divide the land and to give an entire new face to the commonwealth. Then the most prudent of the Athenians cast their eyes upon Solon, as a man least obnoxious to either party, having neither been engaged in oppressions with the rich, nor entangled in neces- sities with the poor. Him, therefore, they en- treated to assist the public in this exigency, and to compose these differences: Phanias the Lesbian asserts, indeed, that Solon, to save the state, dealt artfully with both parties, and privately promised the poor a division of the lands, and the rich a confirmation of their securities. At first he was loath to take the administration upon him, by rea- son of the avarice of some and the insolence of others, but was however, chosen archon next after Philombrotus, and at the same time arbitrator and This prediction was fulfilled 270 years after, when An- tipater constrained the Athenians to admit his garrison into that place. Beside this prophesy, Epimenides uttered an- other during his stay at Athens; for hearing that the citi- zens were alarmed at the progress of the Persian power at sea, he advised them to make themselves easy, for that the Persians would not for many years attempt anything against 'he Greeks, and when they did, I hey would receive greater }ss themselves than they would be ahle to bring upon the ates they thought to destroy. Laert. in Vila et Rimen. lawgiver; the rich accepting of him readily, as one of them, and the poor, as a good and worthy man. They tell us too, that a saying of his, which he had let fall some time before, that equality causes no war, was then much repeated, and pleased both the rich and the poor; the latter expecting to come to balance by their numbers and by the measure of divided lands, and the former to preserve an equality at least, by their dignity and power. Thus both parties being in great hopes, the heads of them were urgent with Solon to make himself king, and endeavored to persuade him, that he might with better assurance take upon him the direction of a city where he had the supreme au- thority. Nay, many of the citizens that leaned to neither party, seeing the intended change dif- ficult to be effected by reason and law, were not against the intrusting of the government to the hands of one wise and just man. Some, more- over, acquaint us that he received this oracle from Apollo, Seize, seize the helm; the reeling vessel guide; With aiding patriots stem the raging tide. His friends, in particular told him it would ap- pear that he wanted courage, if he rejected the monarchy for fear of the name of tyrant; as if the sole and supreme power would not soon be- come a lawful sovereignty through the virtues of him that received it. Thus formerly (said they) the Eubosans set up Tynnondas, and lately the Mitylenseans Pittacus for their prince.* None of these things moved Solon from his purpose; and the answer he is said to have given his friends is this, Absolute monarchy is a fair Jield, but it has no outlet. And in one of his poems he thus ad- dresses himself to his friend Phocus: If I spar'd my country, If gilded violence and tyrannic sway Could never charm me: thence no shame accrue* Still the mild honor of my name I boast, And find my empire there. Whence it is evident that his reputation was very great before he appeared in the character of a legislator. As for the ridicude he was exposed to for rejecting kingly power, he has described it in the following verses: Nor wisdom's palm, nor deep-laid policy Can Solon boast. For when its noblest blessings Heav'n pour'd into his lap, he spurn'd them from him. Where was his sense and spirit, when enclos'd He found the choicest prey, nor deign'd to draw it? Who to command fair Athens but one day Would not himself, with all his race, have fallen Contented on the morrow? Thus he has introduced the multitude and men of low minds, as discoursing about him. But though he rejected absolute power, he proceeded with spirit enough in the administration; he did not make any concessions in behalf of the power- ful, nor, in the framing of his laws did he indulge the humor of his constituents. When the forrnet establishment was tolerable, he neither applied remedies, nor used the incision-knife, lest he should put the whole in disorder, and not have power to settle or compose it afterward in the temperature he could wish. He only made such alterations as he might bring the people to ac- quiesce in by persuasion, or compel them to by his authority, making (as he says)/orce and rigid Pittacus, one of the seven wise men of Greece, made himself master of Mitylene; for which Alceeus, who was of the same town, contemporary with Pittacus, and, as a poet, a friend to liberty, satirized him, as he did the other tyrants. Pittacus disregarded his censures, and having by his au- thority quelled the sedition of his citizens, and established peace and harmony among them, he voluntarily quitted bu power, and restored his country to its liberty. SOLON. 77 conspire. Hence it was, that having the question afterward put to him, Whether he had provided the best of laws for the Athenians, he answered, The best they were capable of receiving. And as the moderns observe, that the Athenians used to qualify the harshness of things by giving them softer utid politer names, calling whores, mistresses, tributes, contributions, garrisons, guards, and pri- sons, castles; so Solon seems to be the first that distinguished the canceling of debts by the name of a discharge. For this was the first of his public acts, that debts should be forgiven, and that no man, for the future, should take the body of his debtor for security. Though Androtion and some others say, that it was not by the canceling of debts, but by moderating the interest, that the poor were relieved, they thought themselves so happy in it, that they gave the name of discharge to this act of humanity, as well as to the enlarg- ing of measures and the value of money, which went along with it. For he ordered the mince, which before went but for seventy-three drachmas, to go for a hundred; so that, as they paid the same in value, but much less in weight, those that had great sums to pay were relieved, while such as re- ceived them were no losers. The greater part of writers, however, affirm, that it was the abolition of past securities that was called a discharge, and with these the poems of Solon agree. For in them he values himself on having taken away the marks of mortgaged land,* which before were almost everywhere set up, and made free those fields which before were bound: and not only so, but of such citizens as were seizable by their creditors for debt, some, he tells us, he had brought back from other countries, where they had wandered so long that they had forgot the Attic dia- lect, and others he had set at liberty, who had ex- perienced a cruel slavery at home. This affair, indeed, brought upon him the great- est trouble he met with: For when he undertook the annulling of debts, and was considering of a suitable speech and a proper method of introducing the business, he told some of his most intimate friends, namely, Conon, Clinias, and Hipponicus, that he intended only to abolish the debts, and not to meddle with the lands. These friends of his hastening to make their advantage of the secret, before the decree took place, borrowed large sums of the rich, and purchased estates with them. Afterward, when the decree was published, they kept their possessions without paying the money they had taken up; which brought great reflec- tions upon Solon, as if he had not been imposed upon with the rest, but were rather an accomplice in the fraud. This charge, however, was soon removed, by his being the first to comply with the law, and remitting a debt of five talents, which he had out at interest. Others, among whom is Polyzlus the Rhodian, say it was fifteen talents. But his friends went by the name of Chreocopia or debt-cutters ever after. The method he took satisfied neither the poor nor the rich. The latter were displeased by the canceling of their bonds; and the former at not finding a division of lands; upon this they had fixed their hopes, and they complained that he had not, like Lycurgus, made all the citizens equal in estate. Lycurgus, however, being the eleventh from Hercules, and having reigned many years in LacedaBmon, had acquired great authority, in- terest, and friends, of which he knew very well how to avail himself in setting up a new form of The Athenians had a custom of fixing up billets, to bow that houses or lands were mortgaged. government. Yet he was obliged to have recourse to force rather than persuasion, and had an eye struck out in the dispute, before he could bring it to a lasting settlement, and establish such a union and equality, as left neither rich nor poor in the city. On the other hand, Solon's estate was but moderate, not superior to that of some commoners, and, therefore, he attempted not to erect such a commonwealth as that of Lycurgus, considering it as out of his power; he proceeded as far as he thought he could be supported by the confidence the people had in his probity and wisdom. That he answered not the expectations of the generality, but offended them by falling short, ap- pears from these verses of his, Those eyes with joy once sparkling when they view'd me, With cold, oblique regard behold me now. And a little after, Yet who but Solon Could have spoke pence to their tumultuous waves, And not have sunk beneath theml But being soon sensible of the utility of the de- cree, they laid aside their complaints, offered a public sacrifice, which they called seisactheia, or the sacrifice of the discharge, and constituted So- lon lawgiver and superintendent of the common- wealth; committing to him the regulation not of a part only, but the whole, magistracies, assem- blies, courts of judicature, and senate; and leav- ing him to determine the qualification, number, and time of meeting for them all, as well as to abrogate or continue the former constitutions, at his pleasure. First then, he repealed the laws of Draco,* ex- cept those concerning murder, because of the severity of the punishments they appointed, which for almost all offenses were capital; even those that were convicted of idleness were to suffer death, and such as stole only a few apples or pot- herbs, were to be punished in the same manner as sacrilegious persons and murderers. Hence a saying of Demades, who lived long after, was much admired, that Draco wrote his laws not with ink but with blood. And he himself being asked, Why he made death the punishment for most offenses, answered, Small ones deserve it, and I can find no ' jreater for the most heinous. In the next place, Solon took an estimate of the estates of the citizens; intending to leave the great offices in the hands of the rich, but to give the rest of the people a share in other departments which they had not before. Such as had a yearly income of five hundred measures in wet and dry goods, he placed in the first rank, and called them * Draco was archon in the second, though some say in the last year of the 39th Olympiad, about the year be'fore Christ 623. Though the name of this great man occurs fre- quently in history, yet we nowhere find so much as ten lines together concerning him and his institutions. He maybe considered as the first legislator of the Athenians; for'the laws, or rather precepts, of Triptolemus were very few, viz: Honor your parents; worship the gods; hurt not animals; Draco was the first of the Greeks that punished idolatry with death; and he esteemed murder so high a crime, that to imprint a deep abhorrence of it in the minds of men, he ordained that process should be carried on even against in- animate things, if they accidentally caused the death of any person. I hit beside murder and adultery, which de- served death, he made a number of small offenses capital; and that brought almost all his laws into disuse. The ex- travagant severity of them, like an edge too finely ground, hindered his thesmoi, as he called them, from striking deep. Porphyry (de abstinent.) has preserved one of them con- cerning divine worship: " It is an everlasting law in At- tica, that the gods are to be worshiped, and the heroei also, according to the customs of our ancestors, and in pri- vate only with a proper add/ess, first-fruits, and annual liba- tions." 78 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Pentacosiomedimni.* The second consisted of those that could keep a horse, or whose lands pro- duced three hundred measures; these were of the equestrian order, and called Hippodatdounies. And those of the third class, who had but two hundred measures, were called Zeugitae. The rest were named Thetes, and not admitted to any office: they had only a right to appear and give their vote in the general assembly of the people. This seemed at first but a slight privilege, but afterward show- ed itself a matter of great importance: for most causes came at last to be decided by them, and in such matters as were under the cognizance of the magistrates there lay an appeal to the people. Beside, he is said to have drawn up his laws in an obscure and ambiguous manner, on purpose to enlarge the authority of the popular tribunal. For as they could not adjust their differences by the letter of the law, they were obliged to have re- course to living judges; I mean the whole body of citizens, who therefore had all controversies brought before them, and were in a manner supe- rior to the laws. Of this equality he himself takes notice in these words, By me the people held their native rights Uninjur'd, unoppress'd The great restrain'd From lawless violence, and the poor from rapine, By me, their mutual shield. Desirous, yet farther to strengthen the common people, he empowered any man whatever to enter an action for one that was injured. If a person was assaulted, or suffered damage or violence, an- other that was able and willing to do it, might prosecute the offender. Thus the lawgiver wisely accustomed the citizens, as members of one body to feel and to resent one another's injuries. And we are told of a saying of his agreeable to this law: being asked, What city was best modeled? he answered, That, where those who are not injured are no less ready to prosecute and punish offenders than those who are. When these points were adjusted, he established the council of the areopagus,^ which was to con- sist of such as had borne the office of archon.$ and * The Pentacosiomedimni paid a talent to the public trea- ary; the Hippodatclountes, as the word signifies, were obliged to find a horse, and to serve as cavalry in the wars; the Zeugita were so called, as being of a middle rank be- tween the knights and those of the lowest order (for rowers who have the middle bench between the Thalamites and the Thranites, are called Ztiugita*); and though the Tlictcs had barely each a vote in the general assemblies, yet, that (as Plutarch observes) appeared in time to be a great privilege, most causes being brought by appeal before the people. t The court of areopagus, though settled long before, had lost much of its power by Draco's preferring the ephetse. In ancient times, and until Solon became legislator, it con- sisted of such persons as were most conspicuous in the state for their wealth, power, and probity; but Solon made it a rule tbat such only should have a seat in it as had borne the office of archon. This had the effect he designed, it raised the reputation of the urcopugites very high, and rendered their decrees so venerable, that none contested or repined at them through a long course of a^es. t After the extinction of the racS of the Medontidas, the Athenians made the office of arckon annual; arid instead of one, they created nine archoiu. By the latter expedient, they provided against the too great power of a single per- son, as by the former they took away all apprehension of the arc/ions setting up for sovereigns. In one word, they attained now what they had long sought, the makino- their supreme magistrates dependent on the people This re- markable era of the completion of the Athenian demo- cracy was, according to the Marmora, in the first year of the 24th Olympiad, before Christ 684. Thut these ma<ris- ttates might however retain sufficient authority and di-rnfty they had high titles and great honors annexed to their of- fices. The first was styled by way of eminence the archon and the year was distinguished by his nam-e. The second was called Basileus, that is king; tor they chose to have that title considered as a secondary one. This officer had the care of religion. The third had the name of Polemarch, for war was his particular province. The other six had the himself was one of the number. But observing that the people, now discharged from their debts, grew insolent and imperious, he proceeded to con- stitute another council or senate, of four hundred,* a hundred out of each tribe, by whom all affairs were to be previously considered; and ordered that no matter, without their approbation, should be laid before the general assembly. In the mean- time the high court of the areopagus were to be the inspectors and guardians of the laws. Thus he supposed the commonwealth, secured by two councils, as by two anchors, would be less liable to be shaken by tumults, and the people would become more orderly and peaceable. Most wri- ters, as we have observed, affirm that the council of the areopagus was of Solon's appointing: an-.) it seems greatly to confirm their assertion, that Draco has made no mention of the areopagites. but in capital causes constantly addresses him- self to the epheta: yet the eighth law of Solon's thirteenth table is set down in these very words, Whoever were declared infamous before Solon's archonship, let them be restored in honor, except such as having been condemned in the areopagus, or by the ephctcB, or by the kings in the Prytaneum, for murder and robbery, or attempting to usurp the go- vernment, had fled their country before this law was made. This on the contrary shows that before Solon was chief magistrate and delivered his laws, the council of the areopagus was in being. For who could have been condemned in the areopagus before Solon's time, if he was the first that erected it into a court of judicature? Unless, perhaps, there be some obscurity or deficiency in the text, and the meaning be, that such as have been con- victed of crimes that are now cognizable before the arcopagites, the ephet<,i and prytanes, shall continue infamous, while others are restored. But this 1 submit to the judgment of the reader. The most peculiar and suprising of his other laws, is that which declares the man infamous who stands neuter in the time of sedition.^ It seems he would not have us be indifferent and unaffect- ed with the fate of the public, when our own con- cerns are upon a safe bottom; nor when we are in health, be insensible to the distempers and griefs title of Thcsmothetx, and were considered as the guardians of their laws. These archmu continued until the ti the emperor Callienus. * The number of tribes was increased by Calisthenes to ten, after he had driven out the Pjsistratidre; and then this senate consisted of five hundred, fifty being chosen out of each tribe. Toward the close of the year the president of each tribe gave in a list of candidates, out of whom the senators were fleeted by lot. The senators then appointed the officers called prytanes. The prytiuies, while the sen- ate consisted ot'oUO, were 50 in number; and, for the avoid- ing of confusion, ten of these presided a week, during which space they were called priedri, and out of them an epi.."tates or president was chosen, whose office lasted but one day. t The cpheta: were first appointed in the reign of Demo- phon, the son of Theseus, for the trying of willful murders and cases of manslaughter. They consisted at first of fifty Athenians and as many Argives; but Draco excluded the Argives, and ordered that it should be composed of fifty- one Athenians, who were all to be turned of fifty years of age. He also fixed their authority above that of the areo- pagites; but Solon brought them under that court, and limit- ed their jurisdiction. J Aulus liellius, who has preserved the very words of this law, adds, that one who so stood neuter, should lose his houses, his country, and estate, and be sent out an exile. Noct. Attic., \. ii, c. 12. Plutarch in another place condemns this law, but Gellius highly commends it, and assigns this reason: The wise and just, as well as the envious and wicked, being obliged to choose some side, matters were easily accommodated; whereas if the latter only, as is generally the case with other cities, had the management of factions, they would, for private reasons, be continually kept up, to tde great hurt, if not to the utter ruin of the state. SOLON. 79 f our country. He would have us espouse the better and juster cause, and hazard everything in defense of it, rather than wait in safety to see which side the victory will incline to. That law, too, seems quite ridiculous and absurd, which per- mits a young heiress, whose husband happens to be impotent, to console herself with his nearest relations. Yet some say, this law was properly leveled against those, who conscious of their own inability, match with heiresses for the sake of the portion, and under color of law do violence to na- ture. For when they know that such heiresses may make choice of others to grant their favors to, they will either let those matches alone, or if they do marry in that manner, they must suffer the shame of their avarice and dishonesty. It is right that the heiress should not have liberty to choose at large but only among her husband's relations, that the child which is born may at least belong to his kindred and family. Agreeable to this is the direction, that the bride and bride- groom should be shut up together and eat of the same quince; * and that the husband of an heiress should approach her at least three times in a month. For, though they may happen not to have chil- dren, yet it is a mark of honor and regard due from a man to the chastity of his wife; it removes many uneasinesses, and prevents differences from proceeding to an absolute breach. In all other marriages, he ordered that no dow- ries should be given; the bride was to bring with her only three suits of clothes, and some house- hold stuff of small value. t For he did not choose that marriages should be made with mercenary or venal views, but would have that union ce- mented by the endearment of children, and every other instance of love and friendship. Nay Diouysius himself, when his mother desired to be married to a young Syracusian, told her, He had, indeed, by his tyranny, broke through the laws of his country, but he could not break those of nature, by countenancing so disproportioned a match. And, surely, such disorders should not be tolerated in any state, nor such matches, where there is no equality of years, or inducements of love, or probability that the end of marriage will be an- ewered. So that to an old man who marries a young woman, some prudent magistrate or law- giver might express himself in the words ad- dressed to Philoctetes: Poor soul! how fit art thou to marry! And if he found a young man in the house of a rich old woman, like a partridge, growing fat in hU private services, he would remove him to some young virgin who wanted a husband. But enougl of this. That law of Solon's is also justly commended which forbids men to speak ill of the dead. For piety requires us to consider the deceased as sacred; justice calls upon us to spare those that are not in being; and good policy to prevent the perpe- tuating of hatred. He forbade his people also to revile the living, in a temple, in a court of justice, in the great assembly of the people, or at the public games. He that offended in this respect was to pay three drachmas to the persons injured and two to the public. Never to restrain anger is, indeed, a proof of weakness or want of breed- * The eating of the quince, which was not peculiar to an heiress and her husband (for all new married people ate it) implied that their discourses ought to be pleasant to each other, that fruit making the breath sweet. t The bride brought with her an earthen pan called Phro get con, wherein barley was parched; to signify that she un dertook the business of the house, and would do her part toward providing for the family. ing; and always to guard against it very difficult, and to some persons impossible. Now, what is enjoined by law should be practicable, if the leg- islator desires to punish a few to some good pur- pose, and not many to no purpose. His law concerning wills has likewise its merit. For before his time the Athenians were not allowed to dispose of their estates by will; the houses and ether substance of the deceased were to remain among his relations. But he permitted any one that had not children, to leave his posses- sions to whom he pleased; thus preferring the tie of friendship to that of kindred, and choice to necessity, he gave every man the full and frse dis- posal of his own. Yet he allowed not all sorts legacies, but those only that were not extorted by frenzy, the consequence of disease or poisons, by imprisonment or violence, or the persuasions of a wife. For he considered inducements that operated against reason, as no better than force; to be deceived was with him the same thing as to be compelled; and he looked upon pleasure to be as great a perverter as pain.* He regulated, moreover, ihe journeys of wo- men, their mourning and sacrifices, and endeav- ored to keep them clear of all disorder and excess. They were not to go out of town with more than three habits; the provisions they car- ried with them, were not to exceed the value of an obolus; their basket was not to be above a cubit high; and in the night they were not to travel but in a carriage, with a torch before them. At funerals they were forbid to tear themselves,f and no hired mourner was to utter lamentable notes, or to act anything else that tended to excite sor- row. They were^not permitted to sacrifice an ox on those occasions; or to bury more t l .an three garments with the body, or to visit any tombs be- side those of their own family, except at the time of interment. Most of these things are likewise forbidden by our laws, with the addition of this circumstance, that those who offen-l in such a manner, are fined by the censors of the women, as giving way to weak passions and childish sor- row. As the city was filled with persons, who assem- bled from all parts, on account of the great security in which people lived in Attica, Solon observing this, and that the country withal was poor and barren, and that merchants, who traffic by sea, do not use to import their goods where they can have nothing in exchange, turned the attention of the citizens to manufactures. For this purpose he made a law, that no son should be obliged to maintain his father, if he had not taugh him a trade.* As for Lycurgus, whose city was clear of strangers, and whose country, according to Euripides, was sufficient for twice the number of * He likewise ordained that adopted persons should make no will, but as soon as they had children lawfully begotten, they were at liberty to return into the family whence they were adopted; or if they continued in it to their death, the estates reverted to the relations of the persons who adopted them. Demosth. in Oral. Leptin. t Demosthenes (in Timoca.) recit'es Solon's directions a* to funerals as follows: "Let the dead bodies be laid out in the house, according as the deceased gave order, and the day following, before sunrise, carried forth. While the body is carrying to the grave, let the men go before, the wo- men follow. It shall not be lawful for any woman to enter upon the goods of the, dead, and to follow" the body to the grave, under threescore years of age, except such as are within the degrees of cousins." t He that was thrice convicted of idleness, was to he de- clared infamous. Herodotus (1. vii) and Diodorus Siculos (1. i) agree that a law of this kind was in use in Egypt. It is probable therefore that Solon, who was thoroughly ao- auainted with the learning of that nation, borrowed it"fro 80 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. inhabitants; where there was, moreover, a mul- titude of Helotes, who were not only to be kept constantly employed, but to be humbled and worn out by servitude; it was right for him to set the citizens free from laborious and mechanic arts, and to employ them iti arms, as the only art fit for them to learn and exercise. But Solon, rather adapting his laws to the state of his country, than his country to his laws, and perceiving that the soil of Attica, which hardly rewarded the hus- bandman's labor, was far from being capable of maintaining a lazy multitude, ordered that trades should be accounted honorable; that the council of the areopagus should examine into every man's means of subsisting, and chastise the idle. But that law was more rigid, which (as Hera- elides of Ponlus informs us) excused bastards from relieving their fathers. Nevertheless, the man that disregards so honorable a state as marriage, does not take a woman for the sake of children, but merely to indulge his appetite. He has there- fore his reward; and their remains no pretense for him to upbraid those children, whose very birth he has made a reproach to them. In truth his laws concerning women, in gene- ral, appear very absurd. For he permitted any one to kill an adulterer taken in the act;* but if a man committed a rape upon a free woman, he was only to he fined a hundred drachmas; if he gained his purpose by persuasion, twenty : but prostitutes were excepted, because they have their price. And he would not allow them to sell a daughter or sister, unless she were taken in an act of dishonor before marriage. But to punish the same fault sometimes in a severe and rigorous manner, and sometimes lightly, and as it were in sport, with a trivial fine, is not agreeable to rea- son: unless the scarcity of money in Athens, at that time, made a pecuniary mulct a heavy one. Arid indeed in the valuation of things for the sacrifice, a sheep and a medimnus of corn were reckoned each at a drachma only. To the victor in the Isthmean games, he appointed a reward of a hundred drachmas; and to the victor in the Olympian, five hundred-! He that caught a he- vvoif, was to have five drachmas; he that took a she-wolf, one: and the former sum (as Demetrius Phalereus asserts) was the value of an ox, the latter of a sheep. Though the prices which he fixes in his sixteenth table for select victims, were probably much higher than the common, yet they are small in comparison of the present. The Athenians of old were great enemies to wolves, because their country was better for pasture than tillage; and some say their tribes had not their names from the sons of Ion, but from the differ- ent occupations they followed; the soldiers being called hoplita, the artificers ergaedes; and of the other two. the husbandmen teleontes : and the graziers csyicores. As Attica was not supplied with water from perennial rivers, lakes, or springs,^ but chiefly by wells dug for that purpose, he made a law, that where there was a public well, all within the dis- tance of four furlongs, should make use of it; but * No adultress was to adorn herself, or to assist at the public sacrifices; and in CMse she did, he gave liberty to any one to tear her clothes off her back, and beat her into the bargain. t At the same time he contracted the rewards bestowed upon wrestlers, esteeming such gratuities useless and even dangerous; as they tended to encourage idleness, by putting men upon wasting that time in exercises which ought to be pent in providing for their families. 1 Strabo tells us there was a spring of fresh water near the Lycaeum; but the soil of Attica in general was dry, and the rivers Ilissus and Eridamui did not ran constantly. where the distance was greater, they were to pro- vide a well of their own. And if they dug ten fathoms deep in their own ground, and could find no water, they had liberty to fill a vessel of six gallons twice a day at their neighbor's. Thus he thought it proper to assist persons in real ne- cessity, but not to encourage idleness. His regulations with respect to the planting of trees were also very judicious. He that planted any tree in his field, was to place it at least five feet from his neighbor's ground; and if it was a fig tree or an olive, nine ; for these extend their roots farther than others, and their neighborhood is prejudicial to some trees, not only as they take away the nourishment, but as their effluvia is noxious. He that would dig a pit or a ditch, was to dig it as far from another man's ground, as it was deep; and if any one would raise stocks of bees, he was to place them about three hundred feet from those already raised by another. Of all the products of the earth, he allowed none to be sold to strangers, but oil: and whoever presumed to export anything else, the arckon was solemnly to declare him accursed, or to pay him- self a hundred drachmas into the public treasury. This law is in the first table. And therefore it is not absolutely improbable, what some affirm, that the exportation of 'figs was formerly forbidden, and that the informer against the delinquents was called a sycophant. He likewise enacted a law for reparation of damage received from beasts. A dog that had bit a man was to be delivered up bound to a log of four cubits long;* an agreeable contrivance for security against such an animal. But the wisdom of the law concerning the natu- ralizing of foreigners, is a little dubious; because it forbids the freedom of the city to be granted to any but such as are forever exiled from their own country, or transplant themselves to Athens with their own family, for the sake of exercising some manual trade. This, we are told, he did, not with a view to keep strangers at a distance, but rather to invite them to Athens, upon th sure hope of being admitted to the privilege of citizens: and he imagined the settlement of thosa might be entirely depended upon, who had beea driven from their native country, or had quitted it by choice. That law is peculiar to Solon, which regulate* the going to entertainments made at the public charge, by him called parasitien.-t For he does not allow the same person to repair to them often, and he lays a penalty upon such as refused to go when invited; looking upon the former as a mark of epicurism, and the latter of contempt of th* public. All his laws were to continue in force for a hundred years, and were written upon wooden tables which might be turned round in the oblong cases that contained them. Some small remains of them are preserved in the Prytaneum to this day. They were called cyrbes, as Aristotle tells * This law, and several others of Solon's, were taken into the twelve tables. In the consulate of T. Romiliu* and C. Venturius, in the year of Rome 293, the Romans sent deputies to Athens, to transcribe his laws, and those of the other lawgivers of Greece, in order to form thereby a body of laws for Rome. t In th'e first ages the name of parasite was venerabte and sacred, for it properly signified one that was a mess- mate at the table of sacrifices. There were in Greece several persons particularly honored with this title, much like those whom the Romans called atpulones, a religion* order instituted by Numa. Solon ordained that every trib should offer a sacrifice once a month, and at the end of th sacrifice make a public entertainment, at which all WB were of that tribe should l>e obliged to assist by tuuw. SOLON. u; and Cratinus, the comic poet, thus speaks of them: By the great names of Solon and of Draco, Whose cyrbes now but serve to boil our pulse. Some say, those tables were properly called eyries, on which were written the rules for religious rites and sacrifices, and the other axones. The senate, in a body, bound themselves by oath to establish the laws of Solon; and the thesmothette, or guardians if the laics, severally took an oath in a particular form, by the stone in the market-place, that for very law they broke, each would dedicate a gold- en statue at Delphi of the same weight with himself.* Observing the irregularity of the months,f and that the moon neither rose nor set at the same time with the sun, as it often happened that in the same day she overtook and passed by him, he ordered that day to be called hene kai nea (the old and the new): assigning the part of it before the conjunction, to the old month, and the rest to the beginning of the new. He seems, therefore, to have been the first who understood that verse in Homer, which makes mention of a day wherein the old month ended, and the new began.\ The day following he called the new moon. After the twentieth he counted not by adding, but subtracting, to the thirtieth, according to the decreasing phases of the moon. When his laws took place, Solon had his risitors every day, finding fault with some of * Gold in Solon's time was so scarce in Greece, that when the Spartans were ordered by the oracle to gild the face of Apollo's statue, they inquired in vain for gold all over Greece, and were directed by the pythoness to buy some of Croesus, king of Lydia. t Solon discovered the falseness of Thales's maxim, that the moon performed her revolution in thirty days, and found that the true time was twenty-nine days and'a half. He directed, therefore, that each of the twelve months should fce accounted twenty-nine or thirty days alternately. By this means a lunar year was formed, of 354 days; and to econcile it to the solar year, he ordered a month of twenty- wo days to be intercalated every two years, and at the end of the second two years, he directed that a month of twenty- three days should be intercalated. He likewise engaged the Athenians to divide their months into three parts, styled the beginning, middling, and ending; each of these con- listed often tlays, when the month was thirty days long, and the last of nine, when it was nine-and-twenty days long. In speaking o! the two first parts, they reckoned according U> the usual order of Cumbers, viz: the first, &c. day of the moon beginning; th^first, second, &c. of the moon mid- dling; but with respect to the last part of the month, they reckoned backward, that is, instead of saying the first, se- cond, &c. day of the moon ending, they said the tenth, ninth, &c. of the moon ending. This is a circumstance which should be carefully attended to. t Odyss. xiv, \6<2. 5 Plntarcti has only mentioned such of Solon's laws as he thought the most singular and remarkable. Diogenes Laer- tins and Demosthenes have given us accounts of some others that ought not to be forgotten. " Let not the guar- dian live in the same house with the mother of his wards. Let not the tuition of minors be committed to him who is next after them in the inheritance. Let not an engraver keep the impression of a seal which he has engraved. Let him that puts out the eye of a man who has but one, lose both his own. If n archon is taken in liquor, let him be pr.it to death. Let him who refuses to maintain his father end mother, he infamous; and so let him that has consumed bi patrimony. Let him who refuses to go to war, flies or behaves cowardly, be debarred the precincts of the forum &n<1 places of public worship. If a man surprises his wife in adultery, and lives with her afterward, let him be deemed infamous. Let him who frequents the houses of lewd wo- men, be debarred from speaking in the assemblies of the people. Let a pander be pursued, and put to death if taken. If any man steal in the day-time, let him be car- 1 ried to the eleven officers; if in the nigh*, it shall be lawful I t" kill him in the act, or to wound him in the pursuit, and I carry him to the aforesaid officers; if he steals common things, let him pay double, and if the convictor thinks fit, > exposed in chains five days; if he is guilty of sacrilege, t him be put to death." them, and commending others, or advising him to make certain additions, or retrenchments. But the greater part came to desire a reason for this or that article, or a clear and precise explication of the meaning and design. Sensible that he could not well excuse himself from complying with their desires, and that if he indulged their importunity, the doing it might give offense, he determined to withdraw from the difficulty, and to get rid at once of their cavils and exceptions. For, as he himself observes, Not all the greatest enterprise can please. Under pretense, therefore, of traffic, he set sail for another country, having obtained leave of the Athenians for ten years' absence. In that time he hoped his laws would become familiar to them. His first voyage was to Egypt, where he abode some time, as he himself relates, On the Canopian shore by Nile's deep mouth. There he conversed upon points of philosophy with Psenophis the Heliopolitan, and Senchis the Saite, the most learned of the Egyptian priests; and having an account from them of the Atlantic island* (as Plato informs us), he attempted to de- scribe it to the Grecians in a poem. From Egypt he sailed to Cyprus, and there was honored with the best regards of Philocyprus, one of the kings of that island, who reigned over a small city built by Dernophon the on of Theseus, near the river Clarius, in a strong situation indeed, but very in- different soil. As there was an agreeable plain below, Solon persuaded him to build a larger and pleasanter city there, and to remove the inhabi- tants of the other to it. He also assisted in lay* ing out the whole, and building it in the best maa- ner for convenience and defense: eo that Phiiocy- prus in a short time had it so well peopled as to excite the envy of the other princes. And, there- fore, though the former city was called Aipeia, yet in honor of Solon, he called the new one Soli. He himself speaks of the building of this city, in his elegies, addressing himself to Philooyprus: For you be long the Solian throne decreed! For you a race of prosperous sons succeed! If in those scenes, to her so justly dear, My hand a blooming city help'd to rear, May the sweet voice of smiling Venus bless, And speed me home with honors and success! As for his interview with Croasus, some preterui to prove from chronology, that it is fictitious. But since the story is so famous, and so well at- tested, nay (what is more), so agreeable to So- lon's character, so worthy of his wisdom and mag- nanimity, I cannot prevail with myself to reject it for the sake of certain chronological tables, which thousands are correcting to this day, with- out being able to bring them to any certainty Solon, then, is said to have gone to Sardis at th* * Plato finished this history from Solon's memoirs, as may be seen in his Timaeus, and Critias. He pretends that tail Atlantis, an island situated in the Atlantic; Ocean, waJ bigger than Asia and Africa, and that, notwithstanding iu vast extent, it was drowned in one day and ni^ht. Diodo- rus Sicwlus says, the Carthaginian, who discovered it, made it death for any one to settle in it. Amidst a number of conjectures concerning it, one of the most probable is, that in those days the Africans had some knowledge of Ameri- ca. Another opinion, worth mentioning, is, that the Ml<u* tides or Fortunate Islands, were what we now call the Ca- naries. Homer thus describes them: Stern winter smiles on that auspicious clime; The fields are florid with unfading prime. From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow. Mold the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow; But from the breezy deep the bless'd inhale The fragrant murmurs of the western gale. Pop*. 82 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. request of Croesus: and when he came there, he was | able to them. To which Solon replied, Nay, but affected much in the same manner as a person horn | he should either not do it at all, or say what is use- in an inland country, when he first goes to see the ful to them. ocean: for as he takes every great river he comes to for the sea; so Solon, as he passed through the court, and saw many of the nobility richly dress- ed, and walking in great pomp amidst a crowd of attendants and guards, took each of them for Croesus. At last, when he was conducted into Though Croesus at that time held our lawgivei in contempt; yet when he was defeated in hia wars with Cyrus; when his city was taken, him- self made prisoner, and laid bound upon the pile in order to be burned, in the presence of Cyrus and all the Persians, he cried out as loud as he possibly the presence, he found the king set off with what- | could, " Solon! Solon! Solon! " Cyrus, surprised at ever can be imagined curious and valuable, either 1 * u ' in beauty of colors, elegance of golden ornaments, or splendor of jewels: in order that the grandeur and variety of the scene might be as striking as possible. Solon, standing over against the throne, was not at all surprised, nor did he pay those compliments that were expected; on the contrary, it was plain to all persons of discernment that he despised such vain ostentation and littleness of pride. Croesus then ordered his treasures to be | this, sent to inquire of him, "What god or man it was whom alone he thus invoked under -so great a calamity? " Croesus answered, without the least disguise, " He is one of the wise men of Greece, whom 1 sent for, not with a design to hear his wisdom, or to learn what might be of service to me, but that he might see and extend the reputa- tion of that glory, the loss of which I find a much greater misfortune, than the possession of it was a blesshiff. My exalted state was only an exterioi opened, and his magnificent apartments and furni- I advantage, the happiness of opinion; but the re- ture to be shown him; but this was quite a need- verse plunges me into real sufferings, and ends in less trouble; for Solon in one view of the king able to read his character. When he had seen all, and was conducted back, Croesus asked him, If he had ever beheld a happier man tfian he? Solon answered, He had, and that the person was one Tellus, a plain but worthy citizen of Athens, who left valuable children behind him; and who, having bten above the. want of necessaries all his life, died gloriously fi(/h1ing for his country. By this time he appeared to Croesus to be a strange un- couth kind of rustic, who did not measure hap- piness by the quantity of gold and silver, but could prefei the life and death of a private and mean person to his high dignity and power. However, he asked him again, Whether, after Tel- lus he kneio another, happier man in the world? Solon answered, Yes, Cleobis and Biton, famed for their brotherly affection, and dutiful behavior to their mother ; for the oxen not being ready, nisery irremediable. This was foreseen by that great man, who, forming a conjecture of the future from what he then saw, advised me to consider the end of life, and not to rely or grow insolent upon uncertainties." When this was told Cyrus, who was a much wiser man than Croesus, finding Solon's maxim confirmed by an example before him, he not only set Croesus at liberty, but honored him with his protection as long as lie lived. Then Solon had the glory of saving the life of one of these kings, and of in- structing the other. During his absence, the Athenians were much divided among themselves. Lycurgus being at the head of the low country,* Megacles the son of Ak- in aeon, of the people that lived near the seacoast,and Pisistratus of the mountaineers; among which last was a multitude of laboring people, whose enmity was chiefly leveled at the rich. Hence it was, they put themselves in tJie harness, and drew their \ that though the city aid observe Solon's laws, yet mother to Juno's temple, who was extremely happy in having such sons, and moved forward amidst the blessings of the people. After the sacrifice, they drank a cheerful cup with their friends, and then laid down to rest, but rose no more, for they died in the night without sorrow or pain, in the midst of so much glory. Well! said Croesus, now highly dis- pleased, and do you not then rank us in the number of happy men? Solon, unwilling either to flutter him, or to exasperate him more, replied, King of Lydia, as God has given the Greeks a moderate proportion of other things, so likewise he has favored tliem with a democratic spirit and a liberal kind of wisdom, which has no taste for the splendors of roy- alty. Moreover, the vicissitudes of lifs suffer us not to be elated by any present good fortune, or to admire tltat felicity which is liable to change. Fu- turity carries for every man many various and un- certain events in its bosom. He, therefore, whom heaven blesses witk success to the last, is in our estimation the happy man. But the happiness of him who still lives, and has the dangers of life to encounter, appears to us no belter than that of a champion before the combat is determined, and while the crown is uncertain. With these words, So- lon departed, leaving Croesus chagrined, but not instructed. At that time TEsop, the fabulist, was at the court of Croesus, who had sent for him, and caressed him not a little. He was concerned at the unkind reception Solon met with, and there- upon gave him this advice: A man should either mot converse with kings at all, or say what is agrcc- all expected some change, and were desirous of another establishment; not in hopes of an equality, but with a view to be gainers by the alteration, and entirely to subdue those that differed from them. W hile matters stood thus, Solon arrived at Athens, where he was received with great respect, and still held in veneration by all; but by reason of his great age he had neither the strength nor spirit to act or speak in public as he had done. He therefore applied in private to the heads of the factions, and endeavored to appease and reconcile them. Pisistratus seemed to give him greater attention than the rest; for Pisistratus had an affable and engaging manner. He was a liberal benefactor to the poor;f and even to his enemies he behaved with great candor. He counterfeited so dexterously the good qualities which nature had denied him, that he gained more credit than the real possessors of them, and stood foremost in the public esteem in point of moderation and equity, in zeal for the present government, and aversion to all that endeavored at a change. With these arts he imposed upon the people: but Solon * These three parties into which the Athenians were di vided, viz: the Pediasi, the Parali, and Diacrii, have bec mentioned in this lite before. t By the poor, we are not to understand such as askeo alms, tor there were none such in Athens. "In those days," says Isocrates, "there was no citizen that died of want, or beg-'ed in the streets, to the dishonor of the com- munity." Tin prodigality, an_ every ma* should have a visible livelihood s was owing to the laws against idleness and and the care which the areopasw took th&J SOLON 83 eoon discovered his real character, and was the first to discern his insidious designs. Yet he did uot absolutely break with him, but endeavored to soften him and advise him better; declaring both to him and others, that if ambition could but be banished from his soul, and he could be cured of his desire of absolute power, there would not be a man better disposed, or a more worthy citizen in Athens. About this time, Thespis began to change the form of tragedy, and the novelty of the thing attracted many spectators ; for this was before any prize was proposed for those that excelled in this respect. Solon, who was always willing to hear and to learn, and in his old age more inclined to anything that might divert and entertain, par- ticularly to music and good fellowship, went to see Thespis himself exhibit, as the custom of the an- cient poets was. When the play was done, he called to Thespis, and asked him, If he was not ashamed to tell so many lies (if/ore so great an as- sembly? Thespis answered, It was no great matter, if he spoke or acted so in jest. To which Solon replied, striking the ground violently with his staff, //' we encourage such jesting as this, we shall quickly find it in our contracts and agree- ments. Soon after this, Pisistratus, having wounded himself for the purpose, drove in that condition nto the market-place, and endeavored to inflame the minds of the people, by telling them, his en- smies had laid in wait for him, and treated him in that manner on account of his patriotism. Upon this, the multitude loudly expressed their indigna- Hon: but Solon came up, and thus accosted him: Son of Hippocrates, you act Homer's Ulysses but very indifferently; for he wounded himself to deceive his enemies, but you have done it to impose upon your countrymen. Notwithstanding this, the rabble were ready to take up arms for him, and a general assembly of the people being summoned, Ariston made a motion, that a body guard of fifty club- men should be assigned him. Solon stood up and opposed it with many arguments, of the same kind with those he has left us in his poems: You hang with rapture on his honey'd tongue. And again, Yo.ir art, to public interest, ever blind, Your fox-like art still centers in yourself. But when he saw the poor behave in a riotous manner, and determined to gratify Pisistratus at any rate, while the. rich out of fear declined the opposition, he retired with this declaration, that he had shown more wisdom than the former, in dis- cerning what method should have been taken; and more courage than the latter, who did not want understanding, but spirit to oppose the establishment of a tyrant. The people having made the decree, did not curiously inquire into the number of guards which Pisistratus employed, but visibly connived at his keeping as many as he pleased, until he seized the citadel. When this was done, and the- city in great confusion, Mega- cles, with the rest of the Alcmasonidre, immedi- ately took to flight. But Solon, though he was now very old, and had none to second him, ap- peared in public, and addressed himself to the citizens, sometimes upbraiding them with their past indiscretion and cowardice, sometimes exhort- ing and encouraging them to stand up for their liberty. Then it was that he spoke those memo- rable words: It would have been easier for them to repress the advances of tyranny, and prevent its establishment : but now it was established and grown to some hight, it would be more glorious to demolish it. However, finding that their fears pre- vented their attention to what he said, he returned to his own house, and placed his weapons at the street door, with these words: / have done all in my power to defend my country and its laws. This was his last public effort. Though some exhorted him to fly, he took no notice of their advice, but was composed enough to make verses, in which he thus reproaches the Athenians: If fear or folly has your rights betray'd, Let not the fault on righteous Heaven be laid. You gave them guards; you raised your tyrants high T' impose the heavy yoke that draws the heaving sigh. Many of his friends, alarmed at this, told him the tyrant would certainly put him to death for it, and asked him, what he trusted to, that he went such imprudent lengths; he answered, To old age. However, when Pisistratus had fully established himself, he made his court to Solon, and treated him with so much kindness and respect, that So- lon became, as it were, his counselor, and gave sanction to many of his proceedings. He ob- served the greatest part of Solon's laws, showing himself the example, and obliging his friends to follow it. Thus, when he was accused of murder before the court of areopagus, he appeared in a modest manner to make his defense; but his accuser dropped the impeachment. He likewise added other laws, one of which was, that persons maimed in the wars should be maintained at the public charge. Yet this, Heraclides tells us, was in pursuance of Solon's plan, who had decreed the same in the case of Thersippus. But accord- ing to Theoprastus, Pisistratus not Solon, made the law against idleness, which produced at one* greater industry in the country, and tranquillity in the city. Solon, moreover, attempted, in verse, a large description, or rather fabulous account of the Atlantic Island,* which he had learned from the wise men of Sais, and which particularly con- cerned the Athenians; but by reason of his age, not want of leisure (as Plato would have it), he was apprehensive the work would be too much for him^ and therefore did not go through with it. These verses are a proof that business was not the hin- drance: I grow in learning as I grow in years. And again, Wine, wit, and beauty still their charms bestow, Light all die shades of life, and cheer us as we go. Plato, ambitious to cultivate and adorn the subject of the Atlantic Island, as a delightful spot in some fair field unoccupied, to which also he had some claim by his being related to Solon,f laid out magnificent courts and enclosures, and erected a grand entrance to it, such as no other story, fable, or poem ever had. But as he began it late, he ended his life before the work; so that the nore the reader is deligh'ted with the part that is written, the more regret he has to find itunfinish- d. As the temple of Jupiter Olympus in Athens is the only one that has not the last hand put to it, so the wisdom of Plato, among his many excel- lent works, has left nothing imperfect but the Atlantic Island. Heraclides Ponticus relates that Solon lived a * This fable imported, that the people of Atlantis having subdued all Lybia, and a great part of Europe, threatened Egypt and Greece; but the Athenians making head against their victorious army, overthrew them in several engage- ments, and confined them to their own island. t Plato's mother was a descendant of the brother at Solon. PLUTARCH'S LIVES. considerable time after Pisistratus usurped the Hegestratns, the immediate successor to Comias. government; but according to Phanias the Ephe- sian, not quite two years. For Pisistratus began his tyranny in the arehonship of Comias, and Phanias tells us, Solon died in the archonship of The story of his ashes* being scattered about the the isle of Salamis, appears absurd and fabulous; and yet it is related by several authors of credit, and by Aristotle in particular. PUBLICOLA. SUCH is the character of Solon; and therefore with him we will compare Publicola, so called by the Roman people, in acknowledgment of his merit; for his paternal name was Valerius. He was descended from that ancient Valerius,t who was the principal author of the union between the Romans and the Sabines. For lie it was that most effectually persuaded the two kings to come to a conference, and to settle their differences. From this man our Valerius deriving his extrac- tion, distinguished himself by his eloquence and riches,^ even while Rome was yet underkingly go- vernment. His eloquence he employed with great propriety and spirit in defense, of justice, and his riches in relieving the necessitous. Hence it was natural to conclude, that if the government should become republican, his station in it would soon be one of the most eminent. When Tarquin the proud, who had made his way to the throne by the violation of all rights,|| divine and human, and then exercised his power as he acquired it, when, like an oppressor and a tyrant, he became odious and insupportable to the people ; they took occasion to revolt, from the unhappy fate of Lucretia, who killed herself on account of the rape committed upon her by the sou of Tarquin.lf Lucius Brutus, meditating a * It is said by Diogenes Laertius, that this was done by his own order. In thus disposing of his remains, either So- lon himself, or those who wrote his history, imitated the tory of Lycurgus, who left an express order that his ashes should be thrown into the sea. t The first of his family, who settled at Rome, was Vale- rius Yolesus, a Sabine; or, as Festus and the fasta Capo- tolini call him, Velusus. t Plutarch, by this, would insinuate, that arbitrary power i> no friend to eloquence. And undoubtedly the want of liberty does depress the spirit, and restrain the force of genius: whereas, in republics and limited monarchies, full cope is given, as well as many occasions afforded, to the richest vein of oratory. Governments, as well as other things, pushed to exces- sive lengths, often change to the contrary extreme. H He made use of the body of his "father-in-law, Ser- vius Tullius, whom he had murdered, as a step to the throne. IT Livy tells us, that she desired her father and husband meet her at her own house. With her father Lucretius came Publins Valerius, afterward Publicola, and with her husband Lucius Junius Brutus, and many other Romans of distinction. To them she disclosed in a few words the whole matter, declared her firm resolution not to out- live the loss of her honor, and conjured them not to let the crime of Sextus Tarquinius go unpunished. Then the he- roine, notwithstanding their endeavors to dissuade her from ft, plunged a dagger in her breast. While the rest were Mled with grief and consternation, Brutus, who, until that lime, had feigned himself an idiot, to prevent his bein<r ob- noxious to the tyrant, took the bloody poniard, and show- ing it to the assembly, said, " I swear by this blood, which wras once so pure, and which nothing but the detestable vtltauy of Tarquin could have polluted, that 1 will pursue L. Tarqninius the proud, his wicked wife, and their chil- dren, with fire and sword; nor will ever suffer any of that (Hank, or any other whatsoever, to reign at Rome. Ye gods! I call you to witness this my oath." At these words, i* preieated the dagger to Collatinus, Lucretius, Valerius, change of government, applied to Valerius first, and with his powerful assistance expelled the king and his family. Indeed, while the people seemed inclined to give one person the chief command, and to set up a general instead of a king, Vale- rius acquiesced, and willingly yielded the first place to Brutus, under whose auspices the re- public commenced. But when it appeared that they could not bear the thought of being governed by a single person, when they seemed more ready to obey a divided authority, and indeed proposed and demanded to have two consuls at the head of the state, then he offered himself as a candidate for that high office, together with Bru- tus, but lost his election. For, contrary to Bru- tus's desire, Tarquinius Collatinus, the husband of Lucretia, was appointed his colleague. Not that he was a more worthy or able man than Va- lerius; but those that had the chief interest in the state, apprehensive of the return of the Tarquins, who made great efforts without, and endeavored to soften the resentment of the citizens within, were desirous to be commanded by the most im- placable enemy of that house. Valerius, taking it ill that it should be supposed he would not do his utmost for his country, be- cause he had received no particular injury from the tyrants, withdrew from the senate, forebore to attend the forum, and woufd not intermeddle in the least with public affairs. So that many be- gan to express their fear and concern, lest through resentment he should join the late royal family, and overturn the commonwealth, which, as yet, was but tottering. Brutus was not without his suspicions of some others, and therefore deter- mined to bring the senators to their oath on a solemn day of sacrifice, which he appointed for that purpose. On this occasion, Valerius went with great alacrity into the forum, and was the first to make oath that he would never give up the least point, or hearken to any terms of agree- ment with Tarquin, but would defend the Roman liberty with his sword; which afforded great satis- faction to the senate, and strengthened the hands of the consuls.* His actions soon confirmed the sincerity of his oath. For ambassadors came from Tarquin with letters calculated to gain the people, and instructions to treat with them in such a manner as might be most likely to corrupt and the rest of the company; and engaged them to take the same oath. * Thus ended the regal state of Rome, 242 years, accord. ing to the common computation, after the building of the city. But Sir Isaac Newton justly obseives, that this can scarce be reconciled to the course of nature, for we meet with no instance in all history, since chronology was cer- tain, wherein seven kings, most of whom were slain, reigned RO long a time in continual succession. By con- tracting, therefore, the reigns of these kings, and those of the kings of Alba, he places the building of Rome, not i the seventh, but in the thirty-eighth Olympiad them; as they were to tell them from the king that he had hid adieu to his high notions, and was willing to listen to very moderate conditions. Though the consuls were of opinion, that they should be admitted to confer with the people, Va- lerius would not suffer it, but opposed it strongly, insisting that no pretext for innovation should be given the needy multitude, who might con- sider war as a greater grievance than tyranny itself. After this, ambassadors came to declare that he would give up all thoughts of the kingdom, and lay down his arms, if they would but send him his treasures and other effects, that his family and friends might not want a subsistence in their exile. Many persons inclined to indulge him in this, and Collutinus in particular agreed to it; but Brutus,* a man of great spirit and quick resentment, ran into the forum, and called his colleague traitor for being disposed to grant the enemy means to carry on the war, and recover the crown, when indeed it would be too much to grant them bread in the place where they might retire to. The citizens being assembled on that occasion, Cains Minutius, a private man, was the first who delivered his sen- timents to them, advising Brutus, and exhorting the Romans, to take care that the treasures should fight for them against the tyrants, rather than for the tyrants against them. The Romans, however, were of opinion, that while they obtained that liberty for which they began the war, they should not reject the offered peace for the sake of the treasures, but cast them out together with the tyrants. In the meantime, Tarquinius made but small account of his effects; but the demand of them furnished a pretense for sounding the people, and for preparing a scene of treachery. This was carried on by the ambassadors, under pretense of taking cure of the effects, part of which they said they were to sell, part to collect, and the rest to send away. Thus they gained time to corrupt two of the best families in Rome, that of the Aquilii, in which were three senators, and the Vitellii, among whom were two. All these, by the mother's side, were nephews to Collatinus the consul. The Vitellii were likewise allied to Bru- tus; for their sister was his wife, and he had seve- ral children by her;f two of whom, just arrived at years of maturity, and being of their kindred and acquaintance, the. Vitellii drew in, and per- suaded to engage in the conspiracy, insinuating, that by this means they might marry into the family of the Tarquins. share in their royal pros- pects, and, at the same time, be set free from the yoke of a stupid and cruel father. For, his in- flexibility in punishing criminals they called cru- elty; and the stupidity which he had used a long time as a cloak to shelter him from the bloody de- signs of the tyrants, had procured him the name of Brutus ;i which he refused not to be known by afterward. The youths thus engaged were brought to con- fer with the Aquilii, and all agreed to take a great * Dionysius of Hnlicarnassus, on the contrary, says, the affair was debated in the senate with great moderation; and when it could not be settled there, whether they should prefer honor or profit, it was referred to the people, who, to their immortal praise, carried it, by a majority of one vote for honor. t I)ionysins and Livy make mention of no more than two; but Plutarch nsrrees with those who say that Brutus had more, and that Marcus Brutus, who killed Oajsar, was de- icended from one of them. Cicero is among those that hold the latter opinion; or else he pretended to be so, to make the cause and person of Brutus more popular. t Tarquin had put the father and brother of Brutus to PUBLICOLA 85 aSid horrible oath, by anmnng together of the blood,* and tasting the entrails of a man sacrificed for that purpose. This ceremony was performed in the house of the Aquilii; and the room chosen for it (as it was natural to suppose), was dark and retired. But a slave, named Vindicius, lurked there undiscovered; not that he had placed him- self in that room by design; nor had he any sus- picion of what was going to be transacted: but happening to be there, and perceiving with what haste and concern they entered, he stopped short for fear of being seen, and hid himself behind a chest; yet so that he could see what was done, and hear what was resolved upon. They came to a resolution to kill the consuls; and having writ- ten letters to signify as much to Tarquin, they gave them to the ambassadors, who then were guests to the Aquilii, and present at the con- spiracy. When the affair was over, they withdrew, and Vindicius, stealing from his lurking hole, was not determined what to do, but disturbed with doubts. He thought it shocking, as indeed it was, to ac- cuse the sons of the most horrid crimes to their father Brutus, or the nephews to their uncle Co- latinus; and it did not occur to him presently that any private Roman was fit to be trusted with so important a secret. On the other hand, he was so much tormented with the knowledge of suck an abominable treason, that he could do anything rather than conceal it. At length, induced by the public spirit and humanity of Valerius, he be- thought himself of applying to him, a man of easy access, and willing to be consulted by the neces- sitous, whose house was always open, and who never refused to hear the petitions even of tlw meanest of the people. Accordingly, Vindicius coming, and discover- ing to him the whole, in the presence of his bro- ther Marcus and his wife; Valerius astonished and terrified at the plot, would not let the man go, but shut him up in the room, and left his wife to watch the door. Then he ordered his brother to surround the late king's palace, to seize the let- ters, if possible, and to secure the servants; while himself, with many clients and friends whom he always had about him, and a numerous retinue of servants, went to the house of the Aquilii. As they were gone out, and no one expected him, he forced open the doors, and found the letters in the ambassadors' room. While he was thus em- ployed, the Aquilii ran home in great haste, and engaged with him at the door, endeavoring to force the letters from him. But Valerius and his party repelled their attack, and twisting their gowns about their necks, after much struggling on both sides, dragged them with great difficulty through the streets into the forum. Marcus Va- lerius had the same success at the royal palace, where he seized other letters, ready to be conveyed away among the goods, laid hands on what ser- vants of the king's he could find, and had them also into the forum. When the consuls had put a stop to the tumult, Viiidicius was produced by order of Valerius; and the accusation being lodged, the letters were read, which the traitors had not the assurance to con- tradict. A melancholy stillness reigned among the rest; but a few, willing to favor Brutus, men- tioned banishment. The tears of Collatinus, and the silence of Valerius, gave some hopes of mercy. But Brutus called upon each of his sons by name, * They thought such a horrible sacrifice would oblig* every member of the conspiracy to inviolable secrecy. Cataline put the same in practice afterward. 86 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and said. You, Titus, and you Valerius,* why do you not make your defense against the charge? After they had been thus questioned three several times, and made no answer, lie turned to the lie- tors, and said, Yours is the part that remains. The lictors immediately laid hold on the youths, strip- ped them of their garments, and, having tied their hands behind them, flogged them severely with their rods. And though others turned their eyes aside, unable to endure the spectacle, yet it is" said that Brutus neither looked another'way, nor suffered pity in the least to smooth his stern and angry countenance;! regarding his sons as they suffered with a threatening aspect, until they were extended on the ground, and their heads cut off with the ax. Then he departed, leaving the rest to his colleague. This was an action which it is not easy to praise or condemn with propriety. For either the excess of virtue raised his soul above the influence of the passions,or else the excess of resentment depressed it into insensibility. Nei- therthe one nor the other was natural, or suitable to the human faculties, but waseither divine or brutal. It is the more equitable,however, that our judgment should give its sanction to the glory of this great man, than that our weakness should incline us to doubt of his virtue. For the Romans do not look upon it as so glorious a work, for Romulus to have built the city, as for Brutus to have founded and established the commonwealth. After Brutus had left the tribunal, the thought of what was done involved the rest in astonish- ment, horror, and silence. But the easiness and forbearance of Collatinus gave fresh spirits to the Aquilii, they begged time to make their defense, and desired that their slave Vindicius might be restored to them, and not remain with their accu- sers. The consul was inclined to grant their re- quest, and thereupon to dismiss the assembly: but Valerius would neither suffer the slave to be taken from among the crowd, nor the people to dismiss the traitors and withdraw. At last he seized the criminals himself, and called for Brutus, exclaim- ing that Collatinus acted most unworthily, in laying his colleague under the hard necessity of putting his own sons to death, and then inclining to gratify the women by releasing the betrayers and enemies of their country. Collatinus, upon this, losing all patience, commanded Vindicius to be taken away; the lictors made way through the crowd, seized the man, and came to blows with such as endeavored to rescue him. The friends of Valerius stood upon their defense, and the peo- ple cried out for Brutus. Brutus returned; and silence being made, he said, It was enough for him to give judgment upon his own sons; as for the rest, he left them to the sentence of the 'people, trho were now free; and any one that chose it might plead before them. They did not, however, wait for pleadings, but immediately put it to the vote, with one voice condemned them to die; and the traitors were beheaded. Collatinus, it seems, was somewhat suspected before, on account of his near relation to the royal family ;J and one * The name of Brutus's second son was not Valerius, bnt Tiberius. t Livy gives a different account of Brutus's behavior. Quit in inter omnc tempus pater, vultusqne et os ejus, spcc- taculo essct, eminente animo patrio inter puhlica; pcena; min- isterium. There could not be a more striking spectacle than the countenance of Brutus, 1'or anger sat mixed with dignity, and he could not conceal the father, though he sup- ported the magistrate. Liv., lib. ii, cap. 5. J Lucius Tarquinius, the son of Egerius, and nephew of Tarqninius Priscus was called Collatinus, from Collatia, of which he was governor. Tarquinius Superbus, and E-e- rius the father of Collutinus, were first cousins. of his names was obnoxious to the people, for they abhorred the very name of Tarquin; but on this occasion he had provoked them beyond ex- pression; and therefore he voluntarily resigned the consulship, and retired from the city. A new election consequently was held, and Valerius de- clared consul with great honor, as a proper mark of gratitude for his patriotic zeal. As he was of opinion that Vindicius should have his share of the reward, he procured a decree of the people that the freedom of the city should be given him, which was never conferred on a slave before, and that he should be enrolled in what tribe he pleased, and give his suffrage with it. As for other freed- men, Appius, wanting to make himself popular, procured them a right of voting, long after. The act of enfranchising a slave is to this day called Vindicta (we are told) from this Vindicius. The next step that was taken, was to give up the goods of the Tarquins to be plundered; and their palace and other houses were leveled with the ground. The pleasantest part of the Campus Martius had been in their possession, and this was now consecrated to the god Mars.* It happened to be the time of harvest, and the sheaves then lay upon the ground; but as it was consecrated, they thought it not lawful to thrash the corn, or to make use of it; a great number of hands, there- fore, took it up in baskets, and threw it into the river. The trees were also cut down and thrown in after it, and the ground left entirely without fruit or product, for the service of the god.f A great quantity of different sorts of things being thus thrown in together, they were not carried far by the current, but only to the shallows where the first heaps had stopped. Finding no farther passage, everything settled there, and the whole was bound still faster by the river; for that wash- ed clown to it a deal of mud, which not only adder! to the mass, but served as a cement to it; and the current, far from dissolving it, by its gentle pres- sure gave it the greater firmness. The bulk and solidity of this mass received continual additions, most of what was brought down by the Tiber set- tling there. It was now an island sacred to reli- gious uses; i several temples and porticos have been built upon it, and it is called in Latin, Inter duos pontes, the island between the two bridges. Some say, however, that this did not happen at the de- dication of Tarquin's field, but some ages after, when Tarquinia, a vestal, gave another adjacent field to the public; for which she was honored with great privileges, particularly that of giving her testimony in court, which was refused to all other women; they likewise voted her liberty to marry, but she did not accept it. This is the ac- count, though seemingly fabulous, which some give of the matter. Tarquin despairing to re-ascend the throne by stratagem, applied to the Tuscans, who gave him a kind reception, and prepared to conduct him back with a great armament. The consuls led the Roman forces against them; and the two armies were drawn up in certain consecrated par- cels of ground, the one called the Arsian grove, * Plutarch should have said re-consecrated. For it wat devoted to that god in the time of Romulus, as appear* from his laws. But the Tarquins had sacrilegiously con- verted it to their own use. t A field so kept, was very properly adapted to the ser> vice of the god of war, who lays waste all before him. t Livy says it was secured against the force of the cur- rent by jnttees. The Fabrician bridee joined it to the city on the <td of the uapitol, and the Ceslian bridge on the side of the J- niculine $ate. PUBLICOLA. 87 the other the ^Esuvian meadow. When they came to charge, Aruns, the son of Tarqiiiu, and Brutus the Roman consul,* met each other, not by accident, but design; animated by hatred and resentment, the one against a tyrant and enemy of his country, the other to revenge his banish- ment, they spurred their horses to their encounter. As they engaged rather with fury than conduct, they laid themselves open, and fell by each other's hand. The battle, whose onset was so dreadful, had not a milder conclusion ; the carnage was prodigious, and equal on both sides, until at length the armies were separated by a storm. Valerius was in great perplexity, as he knew not which side had the victory, and found his men as much dismayed at the sigiit of their own dead, as animated by the loss of the enemy. So great, indeed, was the slaughter, that it could not be distinguished who had the advantage; and each army having a near view of their own loss, and only guessing at that of the enemy, were inclined to think themselves vanquished, rather than vic- torious. When night came on (such a night as one might imagine after so bloody a day), and both camps were hushed in silence and repose, it is said that the grove shook, and a loud voice pro- ceeding from it declared, that the Tuscans had lost one man more titan the Romans. The voice was undoubtedly divine;+ for immediately upon that the Romans recovered their spirits, and the field rang with acclamations: while the Tuscans, struck with fear and confusion, deserted their camp, and most of them dispersed. As for those that re- mained, who were not quite five thousand, the Romans took them prisoners, and plundered the camp. When the dead were numbered, there were found on the side of the Tuscans eleven thousand three hundred, and on that of the Ro- mans as many excepting one. This battle is said to nave been lougnt on the last of February. Valerius was honored with a triumph, and was the first consul that made his entry in a chariot and four. The occasion rendered the spectacle glorious and venerable, not invidious, and (as some would have it) grievous to the Romans; for, if that had been the case, the custom would not have been so zealously kepi up, nor would the ambition to attain a triumph have lasted so many ages. The people were pleased, too, with the honors paid by Valerius to the remains of his col- league, his burying him with so much pomp, and pronouncing his funeral oration; which last the Romans so generally approved, or rather were so much charmed with, that afterward all the great and illustrious men among them, upon their de- cease, had their encomium from persons of dis- tinction. : This funeral oration was more ancient than any among the Greeks; unless we allow what Anaximenes, the orator, relates, that Solon was the author of this custom. But that which offended and exasperated the people was this: Brutus, whom they considered * Brutus is deservedly reckoned among the most illustri- ous heroes. He restored liberty to his country, secured it with the blood of his own sons, and died in defending it against a tyrant. The Romans afterward erected his sta- tue in the capito., where he was placed in the midst of the kings of Rome, with a naked sword in his hand. t It wa said to be the voice of the god Pan. i Funeral orations were not in use among the Greeks un- til the battle of Marathon, which was sixteen years after the death of Brutus. The heroes that fell so gloriously there did indeed well deserve such eulogiums; and the Grecians never granted them hut to those that were slain fighting for their country. In this respect the custom of the Romans was more" equitable; for they honored with those public marks of regard such as had served their coun- tty in any capacity. as the father of liberty, would not rule alone, but took to himself a first and a second colleague: yet this man (said they) grasps the whole authority, and is not the successor to the consulate of Brutus, to which he IMS no right, but to the tyranny of Tar- quin. To what purpose is it in words to extol Bru- tus, and in deeds to imitate Tarquin, while he has all the rods and axes carried before him alone, and sets out from a house more stately than the royal pa^ lace which he demolished? It is true, Valerius did live in a house too lofty and superb, on the Velian eminence, which commanded the forum and every thing that passed; and as the avenues were diffi- cult, and the ascent steep, when -he came down from it his appearance was very pompous, and re- sembled th^tate of a king rather than that of a con- sul. But he soon showed of what consequence it is for persons in high stations and authority to have their ears open to truth and good advice, ra- ther than flattery. For when his friends inform- ed him, that most people thought he was taking wrong steps, he made no dispute, nor expressed any resentment, but hastily assembled a number of workmen while it was yet night, who demolish- ed his house entirely; so that when the Romans in the morning assembled to look upon it, they ad- mired and adored his magnanimity; but, at the same time, were troubled to see so grand and magnificent an edifice ruined by the envy of the citizens, as they would have lamented the death of a great man who had fallen as suddenly, and by the same cause. It gave them pain, too, to see the consul, who had now no home, obliged to take shelter in another man's huuse. For Vale- rius was entertained by his friends, until the peo- ple provided a piece of ground for him, where a less stately house was built in the place where the temple of Victory now stands.* Desirous to make his high office, as w^l as hirnseif, ratiier agreeable than formidable to the people, he ordered the axes to be taken away from the rods, and that, whenever he went to the great assembly, the rods should be avaled in respect to the citizens, as if the supreme power were lodged iu thern.-^ A custom which the consuls observe to this day. The people were not aware, that by this IIQ did not lessen his own power (as they imagined), but only by such an instance of mo- deration obviated and cut off all occasion of envy; and gained as much authority to his person, as lie seemed to take from his office; for they all sub- mitted to him with pleasure, and were so much charmed with his behavior, that they gave him the name of Publicola, that is, the People's respect- ful friend. In this both his former names were lost; and this we shall make use of in the sequel of his life. Indeed, it was no more than his due; for he permitted all to sue for the consulship.} Yet, be- fore a colleague was appointed him, as lie knew not what might happen, and was apprehensive of some opposition from ignorance or envy, while he had the sole power he made use of it to estab- * Plutarch has it, where tke temple called Vicns Publicus now stnnil*. He had found in the historians vices j<ot&, which in old Latin signifies victory; hut as he did not un- derstand it, he substituted Vicua 1'ublicvs, which here would have no sense at all. t The axes too were still borne before the consuls when they were in the t>.;ld. t If Publicola gave the plebeians, as well as the patri- cians, a right to the consulate, that right did not then tak place. For Lucius Sextus was the iirst plebeian who ar- rived at that honor, many ages after the time of which Plu- tarch speaks; and this continued but. eleven years; for in the twelfth, which was the four hundredth year of Rome, both the consul* were again patricians. Liv. vii, cap. 18. PLUTARCH'S LIVES. lish some of the most useful aud excellent regula- tions. In the first place, he filled up the senate, which then was very thin; several of that august body having been put to death by Tarquin before, and others fallen in the late battle. He is said to have made up the number of a hundred and sixty- four. In the next place, he caused certain laws to be enacted, which greatly augmented the power of the people. The first gave liberty of appeal from the consuls to the people; the second made it death to enter upon the magistracy, without the people's consent; the third was greatly in favor of the poor, as, by exempting them from t-axes,* it promoted their attention to manufac- tures. Even his law against disobedience to the consuls, was not less popular than the rest: and, a etfect, it favored the commonalty rather than the great; for the fine was only the value of five oxen and two sheep. The value of a sheep was ten oboli, of an ox, a hundred: t the Romans as yet not making much use of money, because their wealth consisted in abundance of cattle. To this day they call their substance peculia, from pecus, cattle, their most ancient coins having the impression of an ox, a sheep, or a hog; and their +9U8 being distinguished with the names of Suilli, Bubulci, Caprat ii.. and Porcii, derived from the names of such animals. Though these laws of Publicola were popular aud equitable; yet, amidst this moderation, the ?unishment he appointed, in one case, was severe, 'or fie made it lawful, without a form of trial, to kill any man that should attempt to set himself up for king; and the person that took away his life, was to stand excused, if he could make proof of the intended crime. His reason for such a law, we presume, was this; though it is not pos- sible that he who undertakes so great an enter- prise^ should escape all notice; yet it is very pro- bable that, though suspected, he may accomplish his designs before he can be brought to answer for it in a judicial way; and as the crime, if com- mitted, would prevent his being called to account for it, this law empowered any one to punish him before such cognizance was taken. His law concerning the treasury did him honor. It was necessary that money should be raised for the war from the estates of the citizens, but he determined that neither himself nor any of his friends should have the disposal of it; nor would he suffer it to be lodged in any private hon.se. He, therefore, appointed the temple of Saturn to be the treasury, which they still make use of for that purpose, and empowered the people to choose two young men as qucestors or treasurers.^ The first were Publius Veturius and Marcus Minu- tius; and a large sum was collected; for a hundred and thirty thousand persons were taxed, though the orphans and widows stood excused. These matters thus regulated, he procured Lu- cretius, the father of the injured Lucretia, to be appointed his colleague. To him he gave the He exempted artificers, widows, and old men, who had BO children to relieve them, from paying trihute. t Before, the tine was such that the commonalty could not pay without absolute ruin. t The office of the quaestors was to take care of the pub- Kc treasure, for which they were accountahle when their year was out; to furnish the necessary sums for the service of the public; and to receive ambassadors, attend them, and provide them with lodgings and other necessaries. A general could not obtain the honors of a triumph, until he Bad given them a faithful account of the spoils he had taken, and sworn to it. There were at first two qutestors only, but when the Roman empire was considerably en- larged, their number was increased. The office of quaestor, though often discharged by persons wb> hti been consuls, was the first step to great employments* fasces (as they are called), together with the pre- cedency, as the older man; and this mark of rea- pect to age has ever since continued. As Lucre- tius died a few days after v another election waa held, and Marcus Horatius* appointed in his room for the remaining part of the year. About that time, Tarquin making preparations for a second war against the Romans, a grea* prodigy is said to have happened. This prince while yet upon the throne, had almost finished the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, when, either by the Direction of an oracle,f or upon some fancy of his own, he ordered the artists of Veii to make an earthen chariot, which was to be placed on the top of it. Soon after this he forfeited the crown. The Tuscans, however, molded the chariot, and set it in the furnace; but the case was very different with it irorn that of other clay in the fire, which condenses and contracts upon the exhalation of the moisture, whereas it enlarged itself and swelled, until it grew to such a size and hardness, that it was with difficulty they got it out, even after the furnace was dismantled. The soothsayers being of opinion, that this chariot be- tokened power and success to the persons with whom it should remain, the people of Veii deter- mined not to give it up to the Romans; but, upon their demanding it, returned this answer, That it belonged to Tarquin, not to those that had driven him from his kingdom. It happened that a few days after, there was a chariot race at Veii, which was observed as usual; except that, as the chario- teer, who had won the prize and received tire crown, was gently driving out of the ring, the horses took fright from no visible cause, but, either by some direction of the gods, or turn of fortune, ran away with their driver, at full speed, toward Rome. It was in vain that he pulled the reins, or soothed them with words, he was obliged to give way to the career, and was whirled along, until they came to the capitol, where they flung him at the gate now called Ratumena. The Veientes, surprised and terrified at this incident, ordered the artist to deliver up the chariot.J Tarquin, the son of Demaratus, in his wars with the Sabines, made a vow to build a temple to Ju- piter Capitolinus; which was performed by Tar- quin the proud, son or grandson, to the former. He did not, however, consecrate it, for it was not quite finished, when he was expelled from Rome. When the last hand was put to it, and it had re- ceived every suitable ornament, Publicola was am- bitious of the honor of dedicating it. This excited the envy of some of the nobility, who could better brook his other honors; to which indeed, in his legislative and military capacities, he had a better claim; but, as he had no concern in this, they did not think proper to grant it him, but encouraged and importuned Horatius to apply for it. In tlie meantime, Publicola's command of the army necessarily required his absence, and his adver- saries taking the opportunity to procure an order from the people that Horatius should dedicate the temple, conducted him to the capitol. A point which which they could not have gained had * Horatius Pulvillus. t U was an usual thing to place chaiiots on the tops of temples. t A miracle of this kind, and not less extraordinary, ia said to have happened in modern Rome. When poor J5U Michael's church was in a ruinous condition, the horses that were employed in drawing stones through the city, unani- mously agreed to carry their loads to St. Michael! ' This temple was 200 feet long, and Ib'.j and upward broad. The front was adorned with three rows of columns, and the sides with two. In the nave were three shrines, one of Jupiter, another of Juno, and the third of Minerva. PUBLICOLA. 89 Publicola been present. Yet some say, the con- euls having cast lots for it,* the dedication fell to Horatius, and the expedition, against his inclina- tion, to Publicola. But we may easily conjecture how they stood disposed, by the proceedings on the day of dedication. This was the thirteenth of September, which is about the full moon of the month Melagitjiion, wh*n prodigious numbers of all ranks being assembled, and silence enjoined, Horatius after the other ceremonies, took hold of one of the gate-posts (us the custom is,) and was going tc pronounce the prayer of consecration. But Marcus, the brother of Publicola, who had stood for some time by the gates, watching his opportunity, cried out, Consul, your son lies dead in the camp. This gave great pain to all who heard it; but the consul, not in the least discon- certed, made answer, Then cast out the dead where you please, I admit of no mourning on this occasion; and so proceeded to finish the dedication. The news was not true, but an invention of Marcus, who hoped by that means to hinder Horatius from completing what he was about. But his presence of mind is equally admirable, whether he imme- diately perceived the falsity, or believed the ac- count to be true, without showing any emotion. The s;ime fortune attended the dedication of the second temple. The first, built by Tarquin, and dedicated by Horatius, as we have related, was afterward destroyed by fire in the civil wars.f Sylla rebuilt it, bat uiJ not live to consecrate it; BO the dedication of this second temple fell to Catullus. It was again destroyed in the troubles which happened in the time of Vitellius; and a third was built by Vespasian, who, with his usual good fortune, put the last hand to it, but did not see it demolished, as it was soon after; happier in this respect than Sylla, who died before his was dedicated. Vespasian died before his was destroy ed. For immediately after his decease, the capi- tol was burned. Tiie fourth, which now stands, was built and dedicated by Dornitian. Tarquin is said to have expended thirty thousand pounds' weight of silver upon the foundations only; but the greatest wealth any private man is supposed to be now possessed of in Rome, would not an- swer the expense of the gilding of the present temple, which amounted to more than twelve thousand talents.}: The pillars are of Pentelic marble, and the thickness was in excellent pro- portion to their length, when we saw them at Athens; but when they were cut and polished anew at Rome, they gained not so much in the polish, as they lost in the proportion; for their beauty is injured by their appearing too slender * Livy says positively, They cast lots for it. Plutarch eems to have taken the sequel of the story from him. Lie., lib. ii, c. 8. t After the first temple was destroyed in the wars be- tween Sylla and Matins, Sylla rebuilt it with columns of marble, which he had taken out of the temple of Jupiter Olympus at Athens, and transported to Rome. But (as Plutarch observes) he did not live to consecrate it; and he was heard to say, as he was dying, that his leaving that temple to be dedicated by another was the only unfortunate circumstance of his life. t 19-i,350/. sterling. In this we may see the great dis- tance between the wealth of private citi/.ens in a free coun- try, and that of the subjects of an arbitrary monarch. In Trajan's time there was not a private man in Rome worth 200,000/; whereas under the commonwealth, ^Kmilius Scau- rus, in his axiileship, erected a temporary theater which cost above 500,0001. Marcus Crassus had an estate in land of above a million a year; L. Cornelius Balbus left by will, to every Roman citi/.en, twenty-five denarii, which Jirnounts to about sixteen shillings of our money; and many private men among the Romans maintained from ten to twenty thousand slaves, not. so much for service as osten- tation. .No wonder then that the slaves once tO'tk up arms, ud went to war with the Roman commonweal'Ji. for their hight. But after admiring the magrii- fience of the capitol, if any one was to go and see a gallery, a hall, or bath, or the apartments of th> women, in Domitian's palace, what is said by Epicharmus of a prodigal, Your lavish'd stores speak not the liberal ntind, But the disease of giving, he might apply to Dornitian in some such manner as this: Neither piety nor magnificence appears in your expense; you have the disease of building; like Midas of old, you would turn everything to gold and marble. So much for th's subject. Let us now return to Tarquin. After that great battle in which he lost his son, who was killed in single combat by Brutus, he fled to Ciusium, and begged assistance of Laras Porsena, then the most powerful prince in Italy, and a man of great worth and honor. Porsena promised him succors;* and, in the first place, sent to the Romans, command- ing them to receive Tarquin. Upon their refusal, he declared war against them; and having inform- ed them of the time when, and the place where, he would make his assault, he marched thither accordingly with a great army. Pubiicola, who was then absent, was chosen consul the second time,f and with him Titus Lucretius. Returning to Rome, and desirous to outdo Porsena in spirit, \ he built the town of Sigliuiut, notwithstanding the enemy's approach; ana when he had finished the walls at a great expense, he placed in it a co- lony of seven hundred men, as if he held his ad- versary very cheap. Porsena, however, assaulted it in a spirited manner, drove out the garrison, and pursued the fugitives so close that he was near entering Rome along with them. But Pub- licola met him without the gates, and joining bat- tle by the river, sustained the enemy's attack, who pressed on with numbers, until at last sinking under the wounds he had gallantly received, he was carried out of the battle. Lucretius, his col- league, having the same fate, the courage of the Romans drooped, and they retreated into the city for security. The enemy making good the pur- suit to the wooden bridge, Rome was in great danger of being taken ; when Horatio Codes, and with him two others of the first rank, Herminius and Spurius Lartius stopped them at the bridge. Horatius had the surname of Codes from his having lost an eye in the wars: or, as some will have it, from the form of his nose, which was so very flat, that both his eyes as well as eyebrows, seemed to be joined together; so that when the vulgar intended to call him Cyclops, by a misnomer, they called him Codes, which name remained with him. This man, standing at the head of the bridge, defended it against the enemy, until the Romans broke it down behind him. Then he plunged into the Tyber, armed as he was, and swam to the other side, but was wound- ed in the hip with a Tuscan spear. Publicola, struck with admiration of his valor, immediately procured a decree, that every Roman should give him one day's provisions;)) and that he should have * Beside that Porsena was willing to assist a distressed king, he considered the Tarquins as his countrymen, for ihey were of Tuscan extraction. t It was when Publicola was consul the third lime, and had for his colleague Horatius Pulvillus, that Porsi-na marched against Rome. t Sigliuria was not built at this time, nor out of ostenta- tion, as Plutarch says; for it was built as a barrier again>t the Latins and the Hernici, and not in the third, but in the second consulship of Publioola. He was son to a brother of Horatius the consul, and a descendant of that Horatius who remained victorious in the gre;u combat between the Horatii and Cmiatii in the reign of Tullus Hostilius. II Probably he had three hundred thousand contributor*, for even the women readily gave in their quota. 90 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. as much land as he himself could encircle with a plow in one day. Beside, they erected his statue in brass in the temple of Vulcan, with a view to console him by this honor for his wound, and lameness consequent upon it. While Porsena laid close siege to the city, the Romans were attacked with famine, and another body of Tuscans laid waste the country. Publi- cola, who was now consul the third time, was of opinion that no operations could be carried on against Porsena but defensive ones. He marched out,* however, privately against those Tuscans who had committed such ravages, defeated them, and killed five thousand. The story of Muciust has been the subject of many pens, and is variously related: I shall give that account of it which seems most credible. Mucius was in all respects a man of merit, but particularly distinguished by his valor. Having secretly formed a scheme to take oft* Porsena, he made his way into his camp in a Tuscan dress, where he likewise took care to speak the Tuscan language. In this disguise he approached the seat where the king sat with his nobles; and as he did not certainly know Porsena, and thought it impro- per to ask, he drew his sword and killed the person that seemed most likely to be the king. Upon this he was seized and examined. Meantime, as there happened to be a portable altar there, with fire upon it, where the king was about to offer sacrifice, Mucius thrust his right hand into it;i and as the flesh was burning, he kept looking upon Porsena with a firm and menacing aspect, until the king, astonished at his fortitude, returned him his sword with his own hand. He received it with his left hand, from whence we are told he had the surname of Scavola, which signifies left-handed; and thus addressed himself to Porsena, "Your threatenings I regarded not, but arn conquered by j your generosity, and out of gratitude, win ueoiare to you what no force should have wrested from me. There are three hundred Romans that have taken the same resolution with mine, who now walk about your camp, watching their opportunity. It was my lot to make the first attempt, and I am not sorry that my sword was directed by fortune against another, instead of a man of so much hon- or who, as such, should rather be a friend than an enemy to the Romans." Porsena believed this account, and was more inclined to hearken to terms, not so much in my opinion, through fear of three hundred assassins, as admiration of the dignity of the Roman valor. All authors call this man Mucius Sca3vola, except Athenodorus San- don, who in a work addressed to Octavia, sister to Augustus, says he was named Posthumius. Publicola, who did not look upon Porsena as so bitter an enemy to Rome, but that he deserved to be taken into its friendship and alliance, was so far from refusing to refer the dispute with Tar- quin to his decision, that he was really desirous of it, and several times offered to prove 'that Tar- quin was the worst of men, and justlydeprived of the crown. When Tarquin roughly answered, that he would admit of no arbitrator, much less of The consuls spread a report which was soon carried into the Tuscan camp by the slaves who deserted, that the next day all the cattle brought thither from the country, would be sent to graze in the fields under a guard. This bait drew the enemy into an ambush. t Mucius Cordus. 1 Livy says that Porsena threatened Mucius with the tor- ture by fire, to make him discover his accomplices; where- upon Mucius thrust his hand into the flame, to let them see that he was not to be intimidated. i Mucius was rewarded with a large piece of ground be- longing to the public. Porsena, if he changed his mind and forsook hia alliance. Porsena was offended, and began to en- tertain an ill opinion of him; being likewise solici- ted to it by his son Aruns, who used all hi8 interest for the Romans, he was prevailed upon to put an end to the war on condition that they gave up that part of Tuscany which they had conquer- ed,* together with the prisoners, and received their deserters. For the performance of these conditions, tiiey gave as hostages ten young men and as many virgins, of the best families in Rome ; among whom was Valeria the daughter of Publicola. Upon the faith of this treaty, Porsena had ceas- ed from all acts of hostility, when the Roman vJr- gins went down to bathe, at a place where the bank forming itself in a crescent embraces the river in such a manner that there it is quite calm and undisturbed with waves. As no guard waa near, and they saw none passing or repassing, they had a violent inclination to swim over, notwith- standing the depth and strength of the stream. Some say, one of them, named Cloelia, passed it on horseback, and encouraged the other virgins as they swam. When they came safe to Publicola, he neither commended nor approved their exploit, but was grieved to think he should appear unequal to Porsena in point of honor, and that this daring enterprise of the virgins should make the Romans suspected of unfair proceeding. He took them, therefore, and sent them back to Porsena. Tar- quin having timely intelligence of this, laid an ambuscade for them, and attacked their convoy* They defended themselves, though greatly inferior in number; and Valeria, the daughter of Publicola, broke through them as they were engaged, with three servants, who conducted her safe to Porsena's camp. As the skirmish was not yet decided, nor the danger over, Aruns, the son of Porsena, being informed of it, marched up with all speed, put the ericuiy to night, and rescued the Romans. Wheu Porsena saw the virgins returned, he demanded which of them was she. that proposed the design, and set the example. When he understood that Clrelia was the person, he treated her with great politeness, and commanding one of his own horses to be brought with very elegant trappings, he made her a present of it. Those that say, CIcelia was the only one that passed the river on horseback, allege this as a proof. Others say no such consequence can be drawn from it, and that it was nothing more than a mark of honor to her from the Tus- can king, for her bravery. An equestrian statue of her stands in the Via sacrarf where it leads to Mount Palatine; yet some will have even this to be Valeria's statue, not Clffilia's. Porsena, thus reconciled to the Romans, gave many proofs of his greatness of mind. Among the rest, he ordered the Tuscans to carry off nothing but their arms, and to leave their camp full of provi- sions, and many other things of value, for the Romans. Hence it is, that even in our times^ whenever there is a sale of goods belonging to the public, they are cried first as the goods of Porsena* to eternize the memory of his generosity. A brazen statue, of rude and antique workmanship was also erected to his honor, near the senate- house.J * The Romans were required to reinstate the Veientes hi the possession of seven villages, which they had taken from them in former wars. t Dionysius Halicarnassus tells us in express terms, that in his time, that is, in the reign of Augustus, there were no remains of that statue, it having been consumed by fire. t The senate likewise sent an embassy to him, with a present of a throne adorned with ivory, a scepier, a crowt of gold, and a triumphal robe. PUBLICOLA 91 After this, the Sabines invading the Roman ter- ritory, Marcus Valerius, brother to Publicola, and Posthumius Tubertus, were elected consuls. As every important action was still conducted by the advice and assistance of Publicola, Marcus gained two great battles; in the second of which he killed thirteen thousand of the enemy, without the loss of one Roman. For this he was not only rewar- ded with a triumph, but a house was built for him at the public expense, on Mount Palatine. And whereas the doors of other houses at that time opened inward, the street door of that house was made to open outward, to show by such an honor- able distinction, that he was always ready to receive any proposals for the public service.* All the doors in Greece, they tell us, were formerly made to open so, which they prove from those passages in the comedies where it is mentioned, that those that went out knocked loud on the inside of the door first, to give warning to such as passed by or stood before them, lest the doors in opening should dash against them. The year following Publicola was appointed consul the fourth time, because a confederacy between the Sabines and Latins threatened a war; and, at the same time, the city was oppressed with superstitious terrors, on account of the imperfect births and general abortions among the women. Publicola, having consulted the Sibyl's books upon it,f offered sacrifice to Pluto, and renewed certain games that had formerly been instituted by the direction of the Delphic oracle. When he had revived llie city with the pleasing hope that the gods were appeased, he prepared to arm against the menaces of men; for there appeared to be a formidable league and strong armament against him. Among the Sabines, Appius Clausus was a man of an opulent fortune, and remarkable per- sonal strength; famed, moreover, for his virtues, and tiie force of his eloquence. What is the fate of all great men, to be persecuted by envy, was likewise his; and his opposing the war gave a handle to malignity to insinuate that he wanted to strengthen the Roman power, in order the more easily to enslave his own country. Perceiving that the populace gave a willing ear to these cal- umnies, and that he was become obnoxious to the abettors of the war, he was apprehensive of an impeachment; but being powerfully supported by his friends and relations, he bade his enemies defiance. This delayed the war: Publicola making it his business not only to get intelligence of this ssdition, but also to encourage and inflame it, sent proper persons to Appius to tell him, "That he was sensible he was a man of too much goodness and in- tegrity, to avenge himself of his countrymen, though greatly injured by them; but if he chose, for * Posthumius had his share in the triumph, as well as in '.he achievements. t An unknown woman is said to have come to Tarquin with nine volumes of oracles written by the Sibyl of Cuma, for whi^h she demanded a very considerable price. Tar- quin refusing to purchase them at her rate, she burned three of them, and then asked the same price for the remaining *i.v. Her proposal being rejected with scorn, she burned three more, and notwithstanding, still insisted on her first price. TMrquin, surprised at the novelty of the thing, put the books into the hands of the augurs to he examined, who his security, to come over to the Romans, and to get out of the way of his enemies, he should find such a reception, both in public and private, as was suitable to his virtue and the dignity of Rome." Appius considered this proposal with great atten- tion, and the necessity of his affairs prevailed with him to accept of it. He, therefore, persuaded his friends, and they influenced many others, so that five thousand men of the most peaceable disposi- tion of any among the Sabines, with their families, removed with him to Rome. Publicola, who was prepared for it, received them in the most friendly and hospitable manner, admitted them to the free- dom of the city, and gave them two acres of land a-piece by the river Anio. To Appius !;;. give twenty-five acres, and a seat in the senate. This laid the foundation of his greatness in the repub- lic, and he used the advantage with so much prudence, as to rise to the first rank in power and authority. The Claudian family,* descended from him, is as illustrious as any in Rome. Though the disputes among the Sabines were decided by this migration, the demagogues would not surfer them to rest; representing it as a matter of great disgrace, if Appius, now a deserter and an enemy, should be able to obstruct their taking vengeance of the Romans, when he could not pre- vent it by his presence. They advanced, therefore, with a great army, and encamped near Fidenae. Having ordered two thousand men to lie in ambush in the shrubby and hollow places before Rome, they appointed a few horse at daybreak to ravage the country up to the very gates, and then to retreat, until they drew the enemy into the ambus- cade. But Publicola, getting information thai very day of these particulars from deserters, pre- pared himself accordingly, and made a disposi- tion of his forces. Posthumius Balbus, his son-in- law, went out with three thousand men, as it began to grow dark, and having taken possession of the summits of the hills u nder which the Sabines had concealed themselves, watched his opportunity. His colleague Lucretius, with the lightest and most active of the Romans, was appointed to attack the Sabine cavalry, as they were driving off thetcattle, while himself, with the rest of the forces, took a large compass, and enclosed the enemy's rear. The morning happened to be very foggy, when Posthumius, at dawn, with loud shouts, fell upon ihe ambuscade from the bights, Lucretius charged the horse in their retreat, and Publicola attacked the enemy's carnp. The Sabines were everywhere worsted and put to the rout. As the Romans met not with the least resistance, the slaughter was prodigious. It is clear that the vain confidence of the Sabines was the principal cause of their ruin. While one part thought the other was safe, they did not stand upon their defense; those in the carnp ran toward the corps that was placed in am- buscade, while they, in their turn, endeavored to regain the camp. Thus they fell in with each other in great disorder, and in mutual want of that assistance, which neither was able to give. The Sabines would have been entirely cut off, had not the city of Fidenre been so near, which proved an asylum to some, particularly those that fled when the camp was taken. Such as did not take advised to purchase them at any rate. Accordingly he did, re fuge there "were either destroyed or taken and appointed two persons of distinction, styled Duumviri, \ nf - tei ^ navo to be guardians of them, der the temple of Jupiter ons of distinction, stylpd Duumviri, j _:,.-,. , who locked them up in a vault un- | " er Capitolinus, and there they were kept until they were burned with the temple itself. These officers, whose number was afterward increased, consulted the gybilline books by direction of the senate, when some dangerous sedition was likely to break out, when the Ro- man armies had been defeated, or when any of those prodi- gies appeared which were thought fatal. They also pre- sided over the sacrifices and shows, which they appointed to appease the wrath of Heaven. * There were two families of the Claudii in Rome; one patrician and the other plebeian. The first had the surname of Putc/icr, and the other of Marcellvs. In course of time, the patrician family produced twenty-three consuls, five dictators, and seven censors, and obtained two tri umphs and two ovations. The emperor Tiberias wj d cended of this family. 92 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. The Romans, though accustomed to ascribe every (solemnized at the public charge; and to make It great event to the interposition of the gods, gave I more honorable, every one contributed a piece of the credit of this victory solely to the general; money called quadrans. Beside, the women, out and the first thing the soldiers were heard to say, of particular regard to his memory, continued the was, that Publicola had put the enemy in their j mourning for him a whole year. By an order of hands, lame, blind, and almost bound, for the j the citizens, his body was likewise interred within slaughter. The people were enriched with the i the city, near the place called Velia, and all his plunder and sale of prisoners. As for Publicola, j family were to have a burying-pluce there. At he was honored with a triumph, and having sur- 'present, indeed, none of iiis descendants are inter- rendered the administration to the succeeding ! red in that ground: they only carry the corpse and consuls, he died soon after, thus finishing his life set it down there, when one of the attendants in circumstances esteemed the happiest and rnostiputs a lighted torch under it, which he immediate- glorious that man can attain to.* The people, as jly takes back again. Thus they claim by that if they had done nothing to requite his merit in iact the right, but wave the privilege; for the body his lifetime, decreed, that his funeral should be is taken away, and interred without the walls. SOLON AND PUBLICOLA COMPARED. THERE is something singular in this parallel, and what has not occurred to us in any other of the lives we have written, that Publicola should exemplify the maxims of Solon, and that Solon should proclaim beforehand the happiness of Pubiicola. For the definition of happiness which Solon gave Croesus, is more applicable to Publicola than to Tellus. It is true, he pronounces Tellus happy, on account of his virtue, his valuable children, and glorious death; yet he mentions him not in his poems as eminently distinguished by his virtue, his children, or his employments. For Publicola, ill his lifetime, attained the highest reputation and authority among Romans, by means of his virtues ; and, after his death, his family was reckoned among the most honorable; the houses of the Publicolae, the Messalse, and Valerii.f illustrious for the space of six hundred years,} still acknowledging him as the fountain of their honor. Tellus, like a brave man, keep- ing his post, and figh'ting until the last, fell by the enemy's hand ; whereas, Publicola, after having slaia his enemies (a much happier circum- stance than to be slain by them), after seeing his country victorious through his conduct as consul and us general, after triumphs and all other marks of honor, died that death which Solon had so passionately wished for, and declared so happy. Solon again in his answer to Mimnerrnus, concern- ing the period of human life, thus exclaims: Let friendship's faithful heart attend my bier, Heave the sad sigh, and drop the pitying tear! * He was the most virtuous citizen, one of the greatest generals, anil the most popular consul Rome ever had. As he had tuken more care to transmit his virtues to posterity, than to enrich them; and as, notwithstanding the frugality of his iit'e, and the great offices he had home, there was not found money enough in his house to defray the charges of his funeral, he was buried at the expense of the public. t That is the other Valerii, viz: the Maximi, the Coroini, the Positi, ihe Lavini, and the Fined. i It appears from this passage that Plutarch wrote this life about, the beginning of Trajan's reign. Cicero thought this wish ot Colon's unsuitable to so wise a man, anil preferred to it that of the poet Ennius, who, pleasing himself with the thought of an immortality on earth as a poet, desired to die unlamented. Cicero rejoiced in the same prospect as an orator. The passion for immor- tality is, indeed, a natural one; hut as the chief part of our happiness consists in the exercise of the benevolent afl'ec- lions, in giving and receiving ssincere testimonies of regard, the undoubted expression of that regard must soothe ihe pa DS of :i dying man, and comfort him with the reflection, that he has not been wanting in the otlices of humanity. And Publicola had this felicity. For he was la- mented, not only by his friends and relations, but by the whole city; thousands attended his funeral with tears, with regret, with the deepest sorrow; and the Roman matrons mourned for him, as for the loss of a son, a brother, or a common parent. Another wish of Solon's is thus expressed: The flow of riches, though desir'd, Life's real goods, if well acquir'd, Unjustly letfme never gain, Lest vengeance follow in their train. And Publicola not only acquired, but employed his riches honorably, for he was a generous bene- factor to the poor: so that if Solon was the wisest, Publicola was the happiest of human kind. What the former had wished for as the greatest and most desirable of blessings, the latter actually possessed, and continued to enjoy. Thus Solon did honor to Publicola, and he to Solon in his turn. For he considered him as the most excellent pattern that could be proposed, in regulating a democracy ; and, like him, laying aside the pride of power, he rendered it gentle and acceptable to all. He also made use of several of Solon's laws; for he empowered the people to elect their own magistrates, and left an appeal to them from the sentence of other courts, as the Athenian lawgiver had done. He did not, indeed, with Solon, create a new senate,* but he almost doubled the number of that which he found in being. His reason for appointing quastors or treasurers was, that if the consul was a worthy man ho might have leisure to attend to greater affairs; if unworthy, that he might not have greater oppor- tunities of injustice, when both the government and treasury were under his direction. Publicola's aversion to tyrants was stronger than that of Solon. For the latter made every attempt to set up arbitrary power punishable by law ; but the former made it death without the * By @*Kn, we apprehend that Plutarch here rather means the senate or council of four hundred, than the council of arcopagus. The four hundred had the prior cognizance of all that was to come before the people, and nothing could be proposed to the general assembly until digested by them; so that, as far as he was able, he provided against a thirst of arbitrary power in the rich, and a desire of licentious freedom in the commons; the areopagus being a check upon the former, as the seuate was a curb upon the latter. THEMISTOCLES. 93 formality of trial. Solon, indeed, justly and rea- sonably plumes himself upon refusing absolute power, when both the state of affairs and the in- clinations of the people would have readily admitted it; and yet it was no less glorious for Publicola, when, rinding the consular authority too despotic, h ' rendered it milder and more popu- lar, and <iid not stretch it so far as he might have done. Tnat this was tiie best method of govern- ing, Solon seems to have been sensible before him, when lie says of a republic: The reins nor strictly, nor too loosely hold, And sale the car of slippery power you guide. But the annulling of debts was peculiar to Solon, and indeed was the most effectual way to support the liberty of the people. For laws intended to establish an equality would be of no avail, while the poor were deprived of the benefit of that equality by their debts. Where they seemed most to exercise their liberty, in offices, in de- bates, and in deciding causes, there they were most enslaved to the rich, and entirely under their control. What is more considerable in this case i.s, that though the canceling of debts gene- rally produces seditions, Solon seasonably applied it as a strong, though hazardous mediciue, to re- move the sedition then existing. The measure, too, lost its infamous and obnoxious nature, when made use of by a man of Solon's probity and character. If we consider the whole administration of each, Solon's was more illustrious at first. He was an original, and followed no example; beside, by himself, without a colleague, he effected many great things for the public advantage. But Publi- cola's fortune was more to be admired at last. For Solon lived to see his own establishment over- turned ; whereas that of Publicola preserved the state in good order to the time of the civil wars. And no wonder, since the former, as soon as he Uad enacted his laws, left them inscribed on tables of wood, without any one to support their au- thority, and departed from Athens, while the latter remaining at Rome, and continuing in the magistracy, thoroughly established and secured the commonwealth. Solon was sensible of the ambitious designs of Pisistratus, and desirous to prevent their being put in execution ; but he miscarried in the at- tempt, and saw a tyrant set up. On the other I hand, Publicola demolished kingly power, when : it had been established for some ages, and was at I a formidable hight. He was equaled by Solon in virtue and patriotism, but he had power and good fortune to second his virtue, which the other wanted. As to warlike exploits, there is a considerable difference; for Daimachus Plat&ensis does not even attribute that enterprise against the Megaren- sians to Solon, as we have done; whereas Pub- licola, in many great battles, performed the duty both of a general and a private soldier. Again: if we compare their conduct in civil affairs, we shall find that Solon, only acting 8 part, as it were, and under the form of a maniac, went out to speak concerning the recovery of Salamis. But Publicola, in the face of the great- est danger, rose up against Tarquin, detected the plot, prevented the escape of the vile conspirators, had them punished, and not only excluded the tyrants from the city, but cut up their hopes by the routs. If he was thus vigorous in prosecut- ing affairs that required spirit, resolution, and open force, he was still more successful in nego- tiation, and the gentle arts of persuasion; for by his address he gained Porsena, whose power was so formidable, that ho could not be quelled by uint of arms, and made him a friend to Rome. But here, perhaps, some will object, that So- lon recovered Salamis when the Athenians had given it up; whereas Publicola surrendered lands that the Romans were in possession of. Our judgment of actions, however, should be formed according to the respective times and postures of affairs. An able politician, to manage all for the best, varies his conduct as the present occasion requires; often quits a part to save the whole; and by yielding in small matters, secures considerable advantages. Thus Publicola, by giving up what the Romans had lately usurped, saved all that was really their own; and, at a time when they found it difficult to defend their city, gained for them the possession of the besiegers' camp. In effect, by referring his cause to the arbitration of the enemy, he gained his point, and, with that, all the advantages he could have proposed to himself by a victory. For Porsena put an end to the war, and left the Romans all the provisions he had made for carrying it on, induced by that impres- sion of their virtue and honor, which he had received from Publicola. THEMISTOCLES. THE family of Thernistocles was too obscure to raise him to distinction. He was the son of N r eocle. an inferior citizen of Athens, of the ward of Phrear, and the tribe of Leontis. By his mother's side, he is said to have been illegitimate* according to the following verses: Though born in Thrace, Abrotonon my name, My son enrols me in the lists of fame, The great Themistocles. It was a law at Athens, that every citizen wht. had a foreigner to his mother should be deemed a bastard, though born in wedlock, and should consequently be incnpable of UOwiting his lather's estate. Yet Phanias writes, that the mother of Themis- tocles was of Caria, not of Thrace, and that her name was not Abrotonon but Euterpe. Neanthea mentions Halicarnassus as the city to which she belonged. But be that as it may, when all the illegitimate youth assembled at Cynosarges, in the wrestling ring dedicated to Hercules, without the gates, which was appointed for that purpose, be- cause Hercules himself was not altogether of divine extraction, but had a mortal for his mother; Themistocles found means to persuade some of the young noblemen to go to Cynosarges, and take their exercise with him. This was an ingenious contrivance to take away the distinction between 94 PLUTARCH'S LIVES the illegitimate or aliens, and the legitimate, whose parents werr both Athenians. It is plain, how- ever, that hs was related to the house of the Lycomedae;* for Simonides informs us, that when a chapel of that family in the ward of Phyle, where the mysteries of Ceres used to be celebrated, was burned down by the barbarians, Tiiemistocles rebuilt it, and adorned it with pictures. It appears, that, when a boy, he was full of spirit and fire, quick of apprehension, naturally inclined to bold attempts, and likely to make a great statesman. His hours of leisure and vaca- tion he spent not, like other boys, in idleness and play; but he was always inventing and compos- ing declamations ; the subjects of which were either the impeachment or defense of some of his school-fellows : So that his master would often say, " Boy, you will be nothing common or in- different: Y"ou will either be a blessing or a curse to the community." As for moral philosophy, and the polite arts, he learned them but slowly, and with little satisfaction ; but instructions in political knowledge, and the administration of public affairs, he received with an attention above his years; because they suited his genius. When, therefore, he was laughed at, long after, in com- pany where free scope was .given to raillery, by persons who passed as more accomplished in what was called genteel breeding, he was obliged to answer them with some asperity: " 'Tis true I never learned how to tune a harp, or play upon a lute, but I know how to raise a small and incon- siderable city to glory and greatness." Stesimbrotus, indeed, informs us, that Themisto- cles studied natural philosophy, both under Anaxa- goras and Melissus; but in this he errs against chronology.f For when Pericles, who was much younger than Thernistocles, besieged Samos, Melissus defended it, and Anaxagoras lived with Pericles. Those seem to deserve more attention who say, that Thernistocles was a follower of Mnesiphilus the. Phrearian, who was neither orator nor natural philosopher, but a professor of what was then called wisdom,} which consisted in a knowledge of the arts of government, and the practical part of political prudence. This was a sect formed upon the principles of Solon. and descending in succession from him; but when the science of government came to be mixed with forensic arts, and passed from action to mere words, its professors, instead of sages were called sophists.]] Themistocles, however, was conver- The Lycomedae were a family in Athens, who (accord- rng to I ausanias) had the care of the sacrifices offered to Ceres; and in that chapel which Theseus rebuilt, ini- tiations and other mysteries were celebrated. t Anaxagoras was "born in the first year of the 7th Olym- piad; Ihemistocles won the battle of" Salamis the first year of the 75th Olympiad; and Melissus defended Sarnos against 1 ericles the last year of the 84th Olympiad. The- mistocles, therefore, could neither study under Anaxagoras, who was only twenty years old when' that general gained the battle oi Salamis, nor yet under Melissns, who did not begin to flourish until : 6 years after that battle. JTI.e first sages were in reality great politicians, who gave rules and precepts for the government of communi- ties. 1 hales was the first who carried his speculations into physics. During the space of about a hundred or a hundred^and twenty years. li The Sophists were rather rhetorician* than philosophers, ikilied in words, but superficial in knowledge, as Diogenes Laertius informs us. Protagoras, who flourished about the 84th Olympiad, a little before the birth of Plato, was the first who had the appellation of Sophist. But Socrates, who was more conversant in morality than in politics, phy- sics, or rhetoric, and who was desirous to improve the world rather in practice than in theory, modestly took the name of Philosopfios, i.e., a lover of wisdom, and not that of Sophos, i. e., a sage or wise man. sant in public business, when he attended the lectures of Mnesiphilus. In the first sallies of youth, he was irregular and unsteady; as he followed his own disposition, without any moral restraints. He lived in ex- tremes, and those extremes were often of the worst kind.* But he seemed to apologize for this afterward, when he observed, that the wildest colts make the best horses, when they coine to he properly broke and managed. The stories, however, wlivch some tell us, of his father's disinheriting him, and his mother's laying violent hands upon herself, be- cause she could not bear the thoughts of her son's infamy, seem to be quite fictitious. Others, on the contrary, say, that his father, to dissuade him from accepting any public employment, showed him some old galleys that lay \vcrn out and neg- lected on the sea shore, just as the populace neg- lect their leaders, when they have no farther service for them. Themistocles had an early and violent inclina- tion for public business, and was so strongly smitten with the love of glory, with an ambition of the highest station, that lie involved himself in troublesome quarrels with persons of the first rank and influence in the state, particularly with Aristides the son of Lysimachus, who always op- posed him. Their enmity began early, but the cause, as Ariston the philosopher relates, was nothing more than their regard for Ptesileus of Teos. After this their disputes continued about public affairs; and the dissimilarity of their lives and manners naturally added to it. Aristides wai of a mild temper and of great probity. He managed the concerns of government with inflexi- ble justice, not with a view to ingratiate himself with the people, or to promote his own glory, but solely for the advantage and safety of the state. He was, therefore, necessarily obliged to oppos* Themistocles, and to prevent hi.s promotion, be- cause he frequently put the people upon unwar- rantable enterprises, and was ambitious of intro- ducing great innovations. Indeed, Thernistocles was so carried away with the love of glory, so immoderately desirous of distinguishing himself by some great action, that, though he was very young when the battle of Marathon was fought, and when the generalship of Miltiades was every- where extolled, yet even then he was observed to keep much alone, to be very pensive, to watch whole night?, and not to attend the usual enter- tainments: When he was asked the reason by his friends, who wondered at the change, lie said, The trophies of Miltiades would not suffer him to sleep. While others imagined the defeat of the Persians at Marathon had put an end to the war, he considered it as the beginning of greater* con- flicts;! and, for the benefit of Greece, he was always preparing himself and the Athenians against those conflicts, because he foresaw them at a. distance. i ' * Idomeneus says, that one morning Themistocles har- nessed four naked courtesans in a chariot, and made them draw him across the Ceramicus in the sight of all the peo- ple, who were there assembled; and that at a time when the Athenians were perfect strangers to debauchery, either in wine or women. But if that vice was then so little known in Athens, how could there be found four prostitutes impudent enough to be exposed in that manner? t He did not question but Darius would at length per- ceive that the only way to deal with the Greeks, was to attack them vigorously by sea, where they could make th least opposition. t The two principal qualifications of a general are, a quick and comprehensive view of what is to be done upon any present emergency, and a happy foresight of what is to come: Themistocles possessed both these qualifications in a great degree. THEMISTOCLES. 95 And in the first place, whereas the Athenians had used to share the revenue of the silver mines of Laurium among themselves, he alone had the courage to make a motion to the people, that they should divide them in that manner no longer, but build with them u number of galleys to be em- ployed in the war against the J-Cginetae, who then made a considerable figure in Greece, and by means of their numerous navy were masters of the sea. By seasonably stirring up the resent- ment and emulation of his countrymen against these islanders,* he the more easily prevailed with them to provide themselves with ships, than if he had displayed the terrors of Darius and the Per- sians, who were at a greater distance, and of whose coming they had no great apprehensions. With this money a hundred galleys with three banks of oars were built, which afterward fought against Xerxes. From this step he proceeded to others, in order to draw the attention of the Athenians to maritime affairs, and to convince them, that, though by land they were not able to cope with their neighbors, yet with a naval force they might not only repel the barbarians, but hold all Greece in subjection. Thus of good land forces, as Plato says, he made them mariners and seamen, and brought upon himself the asper- sion of taking from his countrymen the spear and the shield, and sending them to the bench and j the oar. Stesimbrotus writes, that Themistocles j effected this in spite of the opposition of Miltiades. Whether by this proceeding he corrupted the simplicity of the* Athenian constitution, is a speculation not proper to be indulged here. But that the Greeks owed their safety to these naval applications, and that those ships re-established the city of Athens after it had been destroyed (to omit other proofs), Xerxes himself is a sufficient witness. For, after his defeat at sea, he was no longer able to make head against the Athenians, though his land forces remained entire ; and it seems to me, that he left Mardonius rather to prevent a pursuit, than with any hope of his bring- ing Greece into subjection. Some authors write, that Themistocles wns in- tent upon the acquisition of money, with a view to spend it profusely; and indeed, for his frequent sacrifices, and the splendid manner in which lie entertained strangers, he had need of a large sup- ply. Yet others, en the contrary, accuse him of meanness and attention to trifles, and say he even sold presents that were made him for "his table. Nay, when he begged a colt of Phillies, who was a breeder of horses, and was refused, he threaten- ed he would soon make a Trojan horse of his house, enigmatically hinting, that he would raise up troubles and impeachments against him from some of his own family. In ambition, however, he had no equal. For when he was yet young, and but little known, he prevailed upon Epicles of Hermione, a performer upon the lyre, much valued by the Athenians, to practice at his house; hoping by this means to draw a great number of people thither. And when he went to the Olympic games, he endea- vored to equal or exceed Cimon, in the elegance of his table, the splendor of his pavilions, and * Plutarch in this place follows Herodotus. But Thucy- dides is express, that Themistocles availed himself of both these arguments, the apprehensions which the Athenians were under of the return of the Persians, as well as the war against the ^Eginetae. Indeed he could not neglect so powerful an inducement to strengthen themselves at sea, since, according to Plato, accounts were daily brought of the formidable preparations of Darius; and, upon his death, it appeared that Xerxes inherited all his father's rancor gainst the Greeks. other expenses of his train. These thing?, how- ever, were not agreeable to the Greeks. They looked upon them as suitable to a young man of a noble family; but when an obscure person sot himself up so much above his fortune, he gamed nothing by it but the imputation of vanity. He exhibited a tragedy,* too, at his own expense, and gained the prize with his tragedians, at a time when those entertainments were pursued with great avidity and emulation. In memory of his success, he put up this inscription, Themistocles the Phrearian exhibited the tragedy, Phrynichus composed i,f Adimantus presided. This gained him popularity; and what added to it, was his charging his memory with the names of thw citizens; so that he readily called each by his own. He was an impartial judge, too, in the causes that were brought before him: and Simonides of Ceos,f making an unreasonable request to him when archon, he answered, Neither wcfdd you be a good poet, if you transgressed the rules of harmony; nor I a good magistrate, if I granted your petition con- trary to law. Another time he rallied Simonides for his absurdity in abusing the Corinthians, who inhabited so elegant a city; and having his own pic- ture drawn, when he had so ill-favored an aspect. At length having attained to a great hight of power and popularity, his faction prevailed, and lie procured the banishment of Aristides by what is called the Ostracising The Medes now preparing to invade Greece again, the Athenians considered who should be their general; and many (\ve are told) thinking the commission dangerous, declined it. But Epi- cydes, the son of Euphemides, a man of more eloquence than courage, and capable withal of being bribed, solicited it, and was likely to be chosen. Themistocles, fearing the consequence would be fatal to the public, if the choice fell upon Epicides, prevailed upon him by pecuniary considerations to drop his pretensions. His behavior is also commended with respect to the interpreter who came with tiie king of Persia's ambassadors, that were sent to demand earth and water.|j By a decree of the people, he put him to * Tragedy at this time was just arrived at perfection; and so great a taste had the Athenians for this kind of enter- tninment, that the principal persons in the commonwealth could not oblige them more than by exhibiting the best tragedy with the most elegant decorations. Public prizes were appointed for those that excelled in this respect; and it was a matter of great emulation to gain them. t Phrynichus was the disciple of Thespis, who was esteeme'd the inventor of tragedy. He was the first that brought female actors upon the stage. Hi* chief plays were Actreon, Alcestis and the Danaides. ^Eschylus was his contemporary. i Simonides celebrated the battles of Marathon and Sala- mis in his poems; and was the author of several odes and elegies: some of which are still extant and well known. He was much in the favor of Pausanius king of Sparta, and of Hiero king of Sicily. Plato had so high an opinion of his merit, that he gave him the epithet of Divine. He died in the first year of the 78th Olympiad, at almost ninety years of age; so that he was veiy near four-core when he described the battle of Salamis. It is not certain by whom the Ostracism was introduced, some say, by Pisistratus, or rather by his sons, others, by Clisthenes; and others make it as ancient as the time of Theseus. By this, men who became powerful to such a de- gree as to threaten the state with danger, were banished For ten years: and they were to quit the Athenian territories in ten days. The method of it was this: every citizen took a piece of a broken pot or shell, on which he wrote the name of the person he would have banished. This done, the magistrates counted the shells; and, if they amounted to 6000, sorted them: and the man whose name was found on the greatest number of shells, was of course exiled for ten years. II This was a demand of submission. But Herodotus as- sures us, that Xerxes did not send such an embassy to th Athenians; the ambassadors of his father Darius were treat- ed with great indignity whn they made that demand : fat 96 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. death, for presuming to make use of the Greek language to express the demands of the barbarians To this we may add, his proceedings in the affair of Arthmius the Zelite;* who, at his motion, was declared infamous, with his children and all his posterity, for bringing Persian gold into Greece. But that which redounded most of all to his honor, was his putting an end to the Grecian wars, re- conciling the. several states to each other, and per- suading them to lay aside their animosities during the war with Persia. In this he is said to have been much assisted by Chileus the Arcadian. As soon as he had taken the command upon him, he endeavored to persuade the people to quit the city, to embark on board their ships, and to meet the barbarians at as great a distance from Greece as possible. But, many opposing it, he marched at the head of a great army, together with the Lacedaemonians, to Tempe, intending to cover Thessaly, which had not as yet declared for the Persians. When he returned without effect- ing anything, the Thessalians having embraced the king's party, and all the country, as far as Bceotia, following their example, the Athenians were more willing to hearken to his proposal to fight the enemy at sea, and sent him with a fleet to guard the straits of Artemisium. t When the fleets of the several states were join- ed, and the majority were of opinion that Eury- biades should have their chief command, and with his Lacednemonians begin the engagement; the Athenians, who had a greater number of ships than all the rest united,} thought it an indignity to part with the place of honor. But Themistocles, perceiving the danger of any disagreement at that time, gave up the command to Eurybiades, and satisfied the Athenians, by representing to them, that, if they behaved like men in the war, the Gre- cians would voluntarily yield them the superiority for the future. To him, therefore, Greece seems to owe her preservation, and the Athenians, in particular, the distinguished glory of surpassing their enemies in valor, and their allies in mo- deration. The Persian fleet coming up to Aphoeta, Eury- biades was astonished at such an appearance of ships, particularly when he was informed that there were two hundred more sailing round Scia- thus. He, therefore, was desirous, without loss of time, to draw nearer to Greece, and to keep close to the Peloponnesian coast, where he might have an army occasionally to assist the fleet; for he considered the naval force of the Persians as invincible. Upon this the Euboeans, apprehensive that the Greeks would forsake them, sent Pelagon to negotiate privately with Themistocles, and to offer him a large sum of money. He took the money, and gave it (as Herodotus writes) to the Athenians threw them into a ditch, and told them, There was earth and water enough. * Arthmius was of Zele, a town in Asia Minor, but set- lied at Athens. He was not only declared infamous for firinging in Persian gold, and endeavoring to corrupt with it some of the principal Athenians, but banished by sound of trumpet. Vide. JEitckin. Oral. cont. Ctesiphon. t At the same time that the Greeks thought of defending the pass of Thermopylae by land, they sent a fleet to hinder the passage of the Persian navy through the straits of Euboea which fleet rendezvoused at Arternisium. t Herodotus tells us in the beginning of his eighth book, that the Athenians furnished 127 vessels, and thai the whole complement of the rest of the Greeks amounted to no more than 151; of which twenty belonged likewise to the Athe- nians, who had lent them to the Chalcidians. 5 According to Herodotus, the affair was thus. The Eu- boean>, not being able to prevail with Eurybiades to remain on their coast until they could carry off their wives and chil- ceo, addressed themselves to Themistocles, and made him Eurybiades. Finding himself most opposed In his designs by Architeles, captain of the sacred galley* who had not money to pay his men, and therefore intended immediately to withdraw; he so incensed his countrymen against him, that they went in a turnultous manner on board his ship, and took from him what he had provided for his supper. Architeles being much provoked at this insult, Themistocles sent him in a chest a quantity of provisions, and at the bottom of it a talent of silver, and desired him to refresh himself that evening, and to salisfy his crew in the morn- ing; otherwise, he would accuse him to the Athe- nians of having received a bribe from the ene- my. This particular is mentioned by Phanias the Lesbian. Though the several engagements t with the Persian fleet in the straits of Euboaa were not de- cisive; yet they were of great advantage to the Greeks, who learned by experience, that neither the number of ships, nor the beauty and splendor of their ornaments, nor the vaunting shouts and songs of the barbarians, have anything dreadful in them to men that know how to fight hand to hand, and are determined to behave gallantly. These things they were taught to despise, when they came to close action and grappled with the foe. In this case Pindar's sentiments appear just, when he says of the fight at Artemisium, 'Twas then that Athens the foundation laid Of Liberty's fair structure. Indeed, intrepid courage is the commencement of victory. Artemisium is a maritime place of Eubcea, to the north of Hesti&ja. Over against it lies Olizon, in the territory that formerly was subject to Phi- locletes; where there is a small temple of Diana of the East, in the midst of a grove. The temple in encircled with pillars of white stone, which, when rubbed with the hand, has both the color and smell of saffron. On one of the pillars are in- scribed the following verses: When on these seas the sons of Athens conquered The various powers of Asia; grateful here They rear'd this temple to Diana. There is a place still to be seen upon this shore, where there is a large heap of sand, which, if dug into, shows toward the bottom a black dust like ashes, as if some fire had been there; and this is supposed to have been that in which the wrecks of the ships, and the bodies of the dead, were burned. The news of what had happened at Thermopyte being brought to Artemisium,} when the confe- a present of thirty talents. He took the money; and with five talents bribed Eurybiades. Then Adiamanthus, th* Corinthian, being the only commander who insisted on weighing anchor, Themistocles went on board him, and told him in few words: " Adiamanthus, you shall not bandon us, for I will give yon a greater present for doing your duty than the king of the Medes would send yon for deserting the allies." Which he performed by sending him three talents on board. Thus he did what "the Eubceam requested, and saved twenty-two talents for himself. * The sacred galley was that which the Athenians sent every year to Delos, with sacrifices for Apollo: and they pretend it was the same in which Theseus carried the tri- bute to Crete. t They came to three several engagements within three days, in the last of which, Clineas, the father of Alcibiadea, jerformed wonders. He had, at his own expense, fitted out a ship which carried two hundred men. The last engagement at Thermopylae, wherein Xerxei forced the passes of the mountains, by the defeat of the L- cedtemonians, Thespians, and Thebans, who had !*een .eft to guard them, happened on the same day with the kittle at Artemisium; and the news of it was brought to Themi- :ocles by an Athenian called Abronichus. Thougfl the ao- tion at Thermopylae had not an immediate relation to The* mistoclei, yet it would have tended more to the glovr of THEMISTOCLES. 97 derates were informed that Leonidas was slain there, and Xerxes master of the passages by land, they sailed back to Greece; and the Athenians, elated with their late distinguished valor, brought up the rear. As Themistocles sailed along the coasts, wherever he saw any harbors or places proper for the enemy's ships to put in at, he took such stones as he happened to find, or caused to be brought thither for that purpose, and set them up in the ports and watering places, with the fol- lowing inscription engraved in large characters, and addressed to the lonians. " Let the lonians, if it be possible, come over to the Greeks, from whom they are descended, and who now risk their lives for their liberty. If this be impracti- cable, let them at least perplex the barbarians, and put them in disorder in time of action." By this he hoped either to bring the lonians over to his side, or to sow discord among them, by causing them to be suspected by the Persians. Though Xerxes had passed through Doris down to Phocis, and was burning and destroying the Phocian cities, yet the Greeks sent them no suc- cors. And, notwithstanding all the entreaties the Athenians could use to prevail with the confede- rates to repair with them into Bojotia, and cover the frontiers of Attica, as they had sent a fleet to Artemisium to serve the common cause, no one gave ear to their request. All eyes were turned upon Peloponnesus, and all were determined to collect their forces within the Isthmus, and to build a wall across it from sea to sea. The Athe- nians were greatly incensed to see themselves thus betrayed, and, at the same time, dejected and dis- couraged at so general a defection. They alone could not think of giving battle to so prodigious an army. To quit the city, and embark on board their ships, was the only expedient at present; and this the generality were very unwilling to hearken tOj as they could neither have any great ambition for victory, nor idea of safety, when they had left the temples of their gods and the monuments of their ancestors. Themistocles, perceiving that he could not by Uie force of human reason prevail with the multi- tude,* set his machinery to work, as a poet would do in a tragedy, and had recourse to prodigies and oracles. The prodigy he availed himself of, was the disappearing of the dragon of Minerva, which at that time quitted the holy place; and the priests finding the daily offerings set before it untouched, gave it out among the people, at the suggestion of Themistocles, that the goddess had forsaken the city, and that she offered to conduct them to sea. Moreover, by way of explaining to the peo- ple an oracle then received,! he told them that, by that general, if Plutarch had taken greater notice of it; since the advantage gained thereby Xerxes, opened Greece to him, and rendered him much more formidable. Ther- mopylae is well known to be a narrow pass in the mountains near the Euripus. * He prevailed so effectually at last, that the Athenians stoned Cyrisilus, an orator, who vehemently opposed him and urged all the common topics of love to the place of one's birth, and the affection to wives and helpless infants. The women too, to show how far they were from desiring that the cause of Greece should surfer for them, stoned his wife. t This was the second oracle which the Athenian depu- ties received from Aristonice, priestess of Apollo. Many were of opinion, that, by the walls of wood which she ad- vised them to have recourse to, was meant the citadel, because it was palisaded; but others, thought it could in- tend nothing butships. The maintainers of the former opinion urged against such as supported the latter, that the last line but one of the oracle was directly against him, and that, without question it portended the destruction of the Athenian fleet near Salamis. Themistocles alleged in an- iwer, that, if the oracle had intended to foretell the destrnc- lion of (he Athenians, it would not have called it the wooden walls, there could not possibly be anything meant but ships; and that Apollo, now calling Salamis divine, not icretched and unfortunate, as formerly, signified by such an epithet, that it would be productive of some great advantage to Greece. His counsels prevailed, and he proposed a decree, that the city should be left to the pro- tection of Minerva,* the tutelary goddess of the Athenians; that the young men should go on board the ships; and that every one should provide as well as he possibly could for the safety of the children, the women, and the slaves. When this decree was made, most of the Athenians removed their parents and wives to Tro3zene,f where they were received with a gene- rous hospitality. The Troezenians came to a re- solution to maintain them at the public expense, for which purpose they allowed each of them two oboli a day; they permitted the children to gather fruit wherever they pleased, and provided for their education by paying their tutors. This order was procured by Nicagoras. As the treasury of Athens was then but low, Aristotle informs us that the court of Areopagus distributed to every man who took part in the ex- pedition eight drachmas; which was the principal means of manning the fleet. But Clidemus as- scribes this also to a stratagem of Themistocles; for, he tells us, that when the Athenians went down to the harbor of Piraeus, the JEgis was lost from the statue of Minerva; and Themistocles, as he ransacked everything under pretense of search- ing for it, found large sums of money hid among the baggage, which he applied to the public use; and out of it all necessaries were provided for the fleet. The embarkation of the people of Athens was a very affecting scene. What pity! what admira- tion of the firmness of those men, who, sending their parents and families to a distant place, un- moved with their cries, their tears, or embraces, had the fortitude to leave the city, and embark for Salamis! What greatly higlitened the dis- tress, was the number of citizens whom they were forced to leave behind, because of their extreme old age4 And some emotions of tenderness were due even to the tame domestic animals, which, running to the shore, with lamentable bowlings, expressed their affection and regret for the persons that had fed them. One of these, a dog that be- longed to Xanthippus, the father of Pericles, un- willing to be left behind, is said to have leapt into the sea, and to have swarn by the side of the ship, until it reached Salamis, where, quite spent with toil, it died immediately. And they show us to this day, a place called Synos Sema, where they tell us that dog was buried. To these great actions of Themistocles may be added the following: He perceived that Aristides was much regretted by the people, who were ap prehensive that out of revenge he might join the Persians, and do great prejudice to the cause of Greece; he therefore caused a decree to be made, that all who had been banished only for a time, should have leave to return, and by their counsel and valor assist their fellow-citizens in the pre- servation of their country. Eurybiades, by reason of the dignity of Sparta divine Salamis, but the unhappy; and that whereas the un- fortunate in the oracle were styled the sons of women, it could mean no other than the Persians, who were scandal- ously effeminate. Herodot. I. vii, c. 143, 144. * But how was this, when he had before told the people that Minerva had forsaken the city? t Theseus, the great hero in Athenian history,was orif- inally of Troezene. t In this description we find strong 'race* of Plutarch** humanity and good nature. PLUTARCH'S LIVES had the command of the fleet; but, as he was ap- prehensive of the danger,* he proposed to set sail for the Isthmus, and fix his station near the Pelo- ponnesian army. Themistocles, ho\vever,opposed it; and the account we have of the conference on that occasion deserves to be mentioned. When Eurybiades sai(i,f "Do not you know, Themis- tocles, that in the public games, such as rise up before their turn, are chastised for it? " " Yes," answered Themistocles; "yet such as are left be- hind never gain the crown." Eurybiades, upon this, lifting up his staff, as if he intended to strike him, Themistocles said, "Strike, if you please, but hear me." The Lacedaemonians admiring his command of temper, bade him speak what he had to say; and Themistocles was leading him back to the subject, when one of the officers thus inter- rupted him: "It ill becomes you who have no city, to advise us to quit our habitations and abandon our country." Themistocles retorted upon him thus: "Wretch that thou art, we have indeed left our walls and houses, not choosing, for the sake of those inanimate things, to become slaves; yet we have still the most respectable city of Greece in these two hundred ships, which are here ready to defend you, if you will give them leave. But if you forsake and' betray us a second time, Greece shall soon find the Athenians pos- sessed of as free a city, and as valuable a coun- try as that which they have quitted." These words struck Eurybiades with the apprehension that the Athenians might fall off from him. We are told also, that as a certain Eretriau was at- tempting to speak, Themistocles said, "What! have you, too, something to say about war, who are like the fish that has a sword, but no heart?" While Themistocles was thus maintaining his arguments upon deck, some tell us an owl was seen flying to the right of the fleet, which came and perched upon the shrouds. Tin's omen de- termined the confederates to accede to his opinion, and to prepare for a sea fight. But no sooner did the enemy's fleet appear advancing toward the habor of Phalerius in Attica, and covering all the neighboring coasts, while Xerxes himself was seen marching his land forces to the shore, than the Greeks, struck with the sight of such prodigious armaments, began to forget the counsel of The- mistocles, and the Peloponnesians once more look- ed toward the Isthmus. Nay, they resolved to set sail that very night, and such orders were given to all the pilots. Themistocles, greatly con- cerned that the Greeks were going to give up the advantage of their station in the straits, || and to retire to their respective countries, contrived that * Tt does not appear that Eurybiades wanted courage. After Xerxes had gained the pass of Thermopylae, it was the general opinion of the chief officers of the confederate fleet assembled in council, (except those of Athens,) that their only resource was to build a strong wall across the Isthmus, and to defend Peloponnesus against the Persians. Besides, the Lacedamonians, who were impartial judges of men and things, gave the palm of valor to Eurybiades, and that of prudence to Themistocles. t Herodotus says, this conversation pasted between Adia- manthus, general of the Corinthians, and Themistocles; but Plutarch relates it with more probability, of Eurybiades, who was cornmander-in chief. J The address of Themistocles is very much to be ad- mired. If Eurybiades was really induced by his fears to return to the Isthmus, the Athenian took a right method to remove those fears, by suggesting greater; for what other free country could he intimate that the people of Athens would acquire, but that, when driven fiom their own city, in tlieir distress and despair, they might seize the state of Sparta J The owl was sacred to Minerva, the protectress of the Athenians. a II the confederates had quitted the Straits of Salamis, where they could equal Uie Persians in the line of battle, stratagem which was put in execution bySicinns. This Sicinus was of Persian extraction, and a cap- tive, but much attached to Themistocles, and the tutor of his children. On this occasion Themis- tocles sent him privately to the king of Persia, with orders to tell him, that the commander of the Athenians, having espoused his interest, was the first to inform him of the intended flight of the Greeks; and that he exhorted him not to suffer them to escape; but while they were in this con- fusion, and at a distance from their land forces to attack and destroy their whole army. Xerxes took this information kindly, supposing it to proceed from friendship, and immediately gave orders to his officers, with two hundred ships, to surround all the passages, and to inclose the islands, that none of the Greeks might escape, and then to follow with the rest of the ships at their leisure. Aristides, the son of Lysimachus, was the first that perceived this motion of the enemy; and though he was not in friendship with Them- istocles, but had been banished by his means (as has been related), he went to him, and told him they were surrounded by the enemy.* Themis- tocles, knowing his probity, and charmed with his coming to give this intelligence, acquainted him with the affair of Sicinus, and entreated him to lend his assistance to keep the Greeks in their station; and, as they had a confidence in his honor, to persuade them to come to an engagement in the straits. Aristides approved the proceedings of Themistocles, and going to the other admirals and captains, encouraged them to engage. While they hardly gave credit to his report, a Tenian galley, commanded by Parsetius, came over from the ene- my to bring the same account; so that indigna- tion, added to necessity, excited the Greeks to their combat. f As soon as it was day, Xerxes sat down on an eminence to view the fleet and its order of battle. He placed himself, as Phanodemus writes, abovo the temple of Hercules, where the isle of Salamis is separated from Attica by a narrow frith; but according to Acestodorus, on the confines of Me- gara, upon a spot called Kerata, the horns. He was seated on a throne of gold, and had many secre- taries about him, whose business it was to write down the particulars of the action. In the meantime, as Themistocles was sacri- ficing on the deck of the admiral-galley, three captives were brought to him of uncommon beauty, elegantly attired, and set off with golden orna- ments. They were said to be the sons of Autarc- tus and Sandace, sister to Xerxes, Euphrantide the such of the Athenians as were in that island, mus*. have be- come an easy prey to the enemy; and the Persians would have found a"n ope'n sea on the Peloponnesian coast, where they could act with all their force against the ships of the allies. * Aristides was not then in the confederate fleet, but. in the isle of ^Egina, from whence he sailed by night, with great hazard, through the Persian fleet,to carry this intelli- gence. t The different conduct of the Spartans and the Athe- nians on this occasion, seems to show how much superior the accomodating laws of Solon were to the austere disci- pline of Lycurgus. Indeed, while the institutions of the latter remained in force, the Lacedaemonians were the greatest of all people. But that was impossible. The se- verity of Lycurgus's legislation naturally tended to destroy it. Nor was this all. From the extremes of abstemious hardships, the next step was not to a moderate enjoymenV of life, but to all the licentiousness of the most effeminate luxury. The laws of Lycurgus made men of the Spartan women; when they were broken, they made women of the men t This throne or seat, whether of gold or silver, or both, was taken and carried to Athens, where it was consecrated in the temple of Minerva, with the golden saber of Mar- donius, which was taken afterward in the battle of Plataa. THEMISTOCLES. 99 soothsayer, casting his eye upon them, and at the same time observing that a bright flame blazed out from the victims,* while a sneezing was heard from the right, took Thernistocles by the hand, and ordered that the three youths should be con- secrated and sacrificed to Bacchus OmestesJ for by this means the Greeks might be assured not only of safety, but victory. Themistocles was astonished at the strangeness and cruelty of the order; but the multitude, who, in great and pressing difficulties, trust rather to absurd than rational methods, invoked the god with one voice, and leading the captives to the altar insisted upon their being offered up, as the soothsayer had directed. This particular we have from Phanias the Lesbian, a man not unversed in lettera and philosophy. As to the number of the Persian ships, the poet ^Eschylus speaks of it, in his tragedy entitled Per' tie, as a matter he was well assured of: A thousand ships (for well I know the number) The Persian flag obey'd: two hundred more And seven, o'erspread the seas. The Athenians had only one hundred and eighty galleys; each carried eighteen men that fought upon deck, four of whom were archers, and the rest heavy armed. If Themistocles was happy in choosing a place for action, he was no less so in taking advantage of a proper time for it; for he would not engage the enemy until that time of day when a brisk wind usually arises from the sea, which occasions a high surf in the channel. This was no incon- venience to the Grecian vessels, which were low built and well compacted; but a very great one to the Persian ships, which had high sterns and lofty decks, and were heavy and unwieldy; for it caused them to veer in such a manner, that their sides were exposed to the Greeks, who attacked them furiously. During the whole dispute, great attention was given to the motions of Themis- tocles, as it was believed he knew best how to pro- ceed. Ariamenes, the Persian admiral, a man of distinguished honor, and by far the bravest of the king's brothers, directed his maneuvers chiefly against him. His ship was very tall, and from thence he threw darts and shot forth arrows as from the walls of a castle. But Arninias the Dec- dean, and Socicles the Pedian, who sailed in one bottom, bore down upon him with their prow, and both ships meeting, they were fastened togeth- er by means of their brazen beaks; when Aria- rnenes, boarding their galley, they received him with their pikes, and pushed him into the sea. Ar- temisia}: knew the body among others that were floating with the wreck, and carried it to Xerxes. While the fight was thus raging, we are told a great light appeared, as from Eleusis; and loud A bright flame was always considered as a fortunate omen, whether it was a real one issuing from an altar, or a seeming one (what we call shell-fire), from the head of a living person. Virgil mentions one of the latter sort, which appeared about the head of Julus and Florus, another that was seen about the head of Servius Tullius. A sneezing on the right hand, too, was deemed a lucky omen both by the Greeks and Latins. t In the same manner, Chios, Tenedos, and Lesbos of- fered human sacrifices to Bacchus, snrnamed Omodius. Bat this is the sole instance we know of among the Athe- nians. t Artemisia, queen of Halicarnassus, distinguished her- self above all the rest of the Persian forces, her ships being the last that fled; which Xerxes observing, cried out, that the men behaved like women, and the women with the courage and intrepidity of men. The Athenians were so incensed against her, that they offered a reward of ten thousand drachmas, to any one that should take her alive. This princess must not be confounded with that Artemisia who was the wife of Mausolas, king of Caria. sounds and voices were heard through all the plain of Thriasia to the sea, as of a great number of people carrying the mystic symbols of Bacchus i procession.* A cloud, too, seemed to rise from among the crowd that made this noise, and to ascend by degrees, until it fell upon the galleys. Other phantoms also, and apparitions of armed men, they thought they saw, stretching out their hands from JEgina before the Grecian fleet. These they conjectured to be the JEacid&J to whom, before the battle, they had addressed .their prayers for succor. The first man that took a ship was an Athenian named Lycomedes, captain of a galley, who cut down the ensigns from the enemy's ship, and con- secrated them to the laureled Apollo. As the Persians could come up in the straits but few at a time, and often put each other in confusion, the Greeks equaling them in the line, fought them until the evening, when they broke them entirely and gained that signal and complete victory, than which (as Simonides says), no other naval achieve- ment, either of the Greeks or barbarians, ever was more glorious. This success was owing to the valor, indeed, of all the confederates, but chiefly to the sagacity and conduct of Themistocles.J After the battle, Xerxes, full of indignation at his disappointment, attempted to join Salamis to the continent, by a mole so well secured, that his land forces might pass over it into the island, and that he might shut up the pass entirely against the Greeks. At the same time, Themistocles, to sound Aristides, pretended it was his own opinion than they should sail to the Hellespont, and break down the bridge of ships: "For so," says he, " we may take Asia without stirring out of Europe." Aristides^ did not in the least relish his propo- sal, but answered him to this purpose: " Until now we have had to do with an enemy immersed in luxury; but if we shut him up in Greece, and drive him to necessity, he who is master of such prodigious forces, will no longer sit under a golden canopy, and be a quiet spectator of the proceed- ings of the war, but, awakened by danger, attempt- ing everything, and present everywhere, he will correct his past errors, and follow counsels better calculated for success. Instead, therefore, of breaking that bridge, we should, if possible pro- vide another, that he may retire the sooner out of Europe." "If that is the case," said Themistocles, "we must all consider and contrive how to put him upon the most speedy retreat out of Greece." This being resolved upon, he sent one of the king's eunuchs, whom he found among the pri- soners, Arnaces by name, to acquaint him, " That the Greeks, since their victory at sea, were determined to sail to the Hellespont, and destroy the bridge; but that Themistocles, in care for the king's safety, advised him to hasten toward his own seas, and pass over into Asia, while his friend * Herodotus says, these voices were heard, and this vis- ion seen, some days before the battle, while the Persian land forces were ravaging the territories of Attica. Diczeni an Athenian exile (who hoped thereby to procure a miti- gation of his country's fate), was the first that observed the thing, and carried an account of it to Xerxes. t A vessel had been sent to ^Egina to implore the assist- tance of .(Ecus and his descendants. ^Ecus was the son of Jupiter, and had been king of^Egina. He was so remark- able for his justice, that his prayers while he lived are said to have procured great advantages to the Greeks: and, after his death, it was believed that he was appointed on of the three judges in the infernal regions. t In this battle, which was one of the most memorable we find in history, the Grecians lost forty ships, and the Persians two hundred, beside a great many more that were taken. According to Herodotus, it was not Aristide, bul Eurybiades, who made this reply to Themistocles. 100 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. eudeavored to find out pretenses of delay, to pre- vent the confederates from pursuing him." Xerxes, terrified at the news, retired with the great- est precipitation.* How prudent the management of Thernistocles and Aristides was, Mardonius af- forded a proof, when, with a small part of the king's forces, he put the Greeks in extreme dan- ger of losing all, in the battle of Platsea. Herodotus tells us, that, among the cities, ^Egi- na bore away the palm; but among the command- ers, Thernistocles, in spite of envy, was universal- ly allowed to have distinguished himself most. For, when they came to the Isthmus, and every officer took a billet from the altar,f to inscribe upon it the names of those that had done the best service, every one put himself in the first place, and Thernistocles in the second. The Lacedaemo- nians, having conducted him to Sparta, adjudged Eurybiades the prize of valor, and Themistocles that of wisdom, honoring each with a crown of olive. They likewise presented the latter with the handsomest chariot in the city, and ordered three hundred of their youth to attend him to the borders. At the next Olympic games, too, we are told, that, as soon as Themistocles appeared in the ring, the champions were overlooked by the spectators, who kept their eyes upon him all the day, and pointed him out to strangers with the utmost admiration and applause. This in- cense was extremely grateful to him; and he ac- knowledged to his friends, that he then reaped the fruit of his labors for Greece. Indeed, he was naturally very ambitions'; if we may form a conclusion from his memorable acts and sayings. For, when elected admiral by the Athenians, he would not dispatch any business, whether public or private, singly, but put off all affairs to the day he was to embark, that having a great deal to do, he might appear with the greatest dig- nity and importance. One day, as he was looking upon the dead bodies cast up by the sea, and saw a number of chains of gold and bracelets upon them, he passed by them, and turning to his friend, said, Take these things for yourself, for you are not Thernis- tocles. To Antiphates, who had formerly treated him with disdain, but in his glory made his court to him, he said, Young man, we are both come to our senses at the same time, though a little too late. He used to say, " The Athenians paid him no honor or sincere respect; but when a storm arose, or danger appeared, they sheltered themselves under him, as under a plane-tree, which, when the weather was fair again, they would rob of its leaves and branches." When one of Seriphus told him, "He was not o much honored for his own sake, but for his country's. " " True," answered Themistocles, " for neither should 1 have been greatly distin- guished if I had been of Seriphus, nor you, if you had been an Athenian." * Xerxes, having left Mardonius in Greece with an army of three hundred thousand men, marched with the rest to- ward Thrace, in order to cross the Hellespont. As no pro- visions had been prepared beforehand, his army underwent great hardships during the whole time of his march, which fasted five and forty days. The king, finding they were not in a condition to pursue their route so expeditiouslyas he desired, advanced with a small ret.inue, but, when he ar- rived at the Hellespont, he found his bridge of boats broken down by the violence of the storms, and wns reduced to the necessity of crossing over in a fishing boat. From the Hellespont he continued his flight to Sardis. t The altar of Neptune. This solemnity wag designed to make them give the; r judgment impartially, as in the pres- ence of the gods. Another officer, who thought he had done th state some service, setting himself up against Themistocles, and venturing to compare his own exploits with his, he answered him with this fable: "There once happened a dispute between the feast day, and the day after the feast : Say a the day after the feast, I am full of bustle and trouble, whereas, with you, folks enjoy, at their ease, everything ready provided. You say right, says the feast day, but if I had not been before you, you would not have been at all. So, had it not been for me, then where would you have been now;?"* His son being master of his mother, and by her means, of him, he said, laughing, " this child is greater than any man in Greece; for the Atheni- ans command the Greeks, I command the Athe- nians, his mother commands me, and he com- mands his mother." As he loved to be particular in everything, when he happened to sell a farm, he ordered the crier to add, that it had a good neighbor. Two citizens, courting his daughter, he pre- ferred the worthy man to the rich one, and assigned this reason, He had rather she should have a man without money, than money without a man. Such was the pointed manner in which he often ex- pressed himself-f After the great actions we have related, his next enterprise was to rebuild and fortify the city of Athens. Theopompus tells us, he bribed the Lacedaemonian Ephori, that they might not oppose it; but most historians say, he overreached them. He was sent, it seems, on pretense of an embassy to Sparta. The Spartans complained, that the Athenians were fortifying their city, and the governor of ^Egina, who was come for that pur- pose, supported the accusation. But Themis- tocles absolutely denied it, and challenged them to send proper persons to Athens to inspect the walls; at once gaining time for finishing them, and con- triving to have hostages at Athens for his return. The event answered his expectation. For the Lace- deemonians, when assured how the fact stood, dis- sembled their resentment, and let him go with im- punity. After this, he built and fortified the Piraeus (having observed the conveniency of that har- bor): by which means he gave the city every maritime accommodation. In this respect his poli- tics were very different from those of the ancient kings of Athens. They, we are told, used their endeavors to draw the attention of their subjects from the business of navigation, that they might turn it entirely to the culture of the ground: and to this purpose they published the fable of the contention between Minerva and Neptune for the patronage of Attica, when the former, by pro- ducing an olive tree before the judges, gained her cause. Themistocles did not bring the Pirseus into the city, as Aristophanes the comic poet would have it; but he joined the city by a line of communication to the Pirreus, and the land to the sea. This measure strengthened the people against the nobility, and made them bolder and more untractable,as power came with wealth into the hands of masters of ships, mariners, and pilots. Hence it was, that the oratory in Pnyx, which was built to front the sea, was afterward * There is the genuine Attic salt in most of these retorts and observations of Themistocles. His wit seems to have been equal to his military and political capacity. t Cicero has preserved another of his sayings, which do- serves mentioning. When Simonides offered to teach Themistocles the art of memory, he answered, Ahl rather teach me the art of forgetting ; for I efttn remember what I would not, and cannot forget what I wuuid. THEMISTOCLES. 101 nrned by the thirty tyrants toward the land:* A>r they believed a maritime power inclinable to a democracy, whereas persons employed in agricul- ture would be less uneasy under an oligarchy. Themistocles had something still greater in view for strengthening the Athenians by sea. After the retreat of Xerxes, when the Grecian fleet was gone into the harbor of Fagasaa to winter, he acquainted the citizens in full assembly, " That he had hit upon a design which might greatly contribute to their advantage, but it was not fit to be communicated to their whole body." The Athenians ordered him to communicate it to Aristides only,f and, if he approved of it, to put it in execution. Thernistocies then informed him, * That he had thoughts of burning the confede- rate fleet at Pugasaj." Upon which, Aristides went and declared to the people, " That the enterprise which Themistocles proposed was indeed the most advantageous in the world, but at the same time, the most unjust." The Athenians, therefore com- manded him to lay aside all thoughts of it.J About this time the Laced 03 raonians made a motion in the assembly of the Amphictynns, to exclude from that council all those states that had not joined in the confederacy against the king of Persia. But Themistocles was apprehensive, that, if the Thessalians, the Argives, and Thebans, were expelled from the council, the Lacedaemoni- ans would have a great majority of voices, and consequently procure what decrees they pleased. He spoke therefore, in defense of those states, and brought the deputies off from that design, by representing, that thirty-one cities only had their share of the burden of that war, and that the greatest part of these were but of small considera- tion; that consequently it would be both unrea- sonable and dangerous to exclude the rest of Greece from the league, and leave the council to be dictated to by two or three great cities. By this he became very obnoxious to the Lacedemo- nians, who, for this reason, set up Cimon against him as a rival in all affairs of state, and used all their interest for his advancement. He disobliged the allies, also, by sailing round the islands, and extorting money from them; as we may conclude from the answer which Hero- dotus tells us the Adrians gave him to a demand of that sort. He told them, " He brought two gods along with him, Persuasion and Force." They replied, " They had also two great gods on their side, Poverty and Despair, who forbade them to satisfy him." Timocreon, the Rhodian poet, writes with great bitterness against Themistocles, and charges him with betraying him, though his friend and host, for money, while, for the like paltry consideration, he procured the return of other exiles. So in these verses: Pausanias you may praise, and you Xantippus, And you LeiHychidas: But sure the hero, Who bears the Athenian palm, is Aristides. What is the false, the vain, Themistocles? The very light is grudg'd him by Latona, * The thirty tyrants were established at Athens by Ly- sander, 403 years before the Christian era, and 77 years after the battle of Salamis. t How glorious this testimony of the public regard to Aristides, from a people then so free, and withal so virtu- ous. t It is hardly possible for the military and political genius of Themistoi'les to save him from contempt and detestation when v.-c arrive at this part of his conduct. A serious proposal to burn the confederate fleet! That fleet, whose united eflbrts had saved Greece from destruction! which had fought under his auspices with such irresistible valor! That sacred fleet, the minutest part of which should have been religiously preserved, or if consumed, consumed only on the altars, and in the service of the gods! How dia- bolical is that policy, which, in its way to power tramples n Vuananity, justice, and gratitude. Who for vile pelf, betray'd Timocreon, His friend and host; nor gave him to behold His dear Jalysus. For three talents more He sail'd and left him on a foreign coast. What fatal end awaits the man that kills, That banishes, that sets the villain up, To fill his glittering stores? While ostentation, With vain airs, fain would boast the generous handy And, at the Isthmus, spreads a public board For crowds that eat, and curse him at the banquet. But Timocreon gave a still looser rein to his abuse of Themistocles, after the condemnation and ban- ishment of that great man, in a poem which be- gins thus: Muse, crown'd with glory, bear this faithful strain, Far as the Grecian name extends. Timocreon is said to have been banished by The- mistocles, for favoring the Persians. When, therefore, Themistocles was accused of the same traitorous inclinations, he wrote against him as follows: Timocreon's honor to the Medes is sold, But yet not his alone: Another fox Find's the same fields to prey in. As the Athenians, through envy, readily gave ear to calumnies against him, he was often forced to recount his own services, which rendered him still more insupportable; and when they expressed their displeasure, he said, Are you weary of receiv- ing benefit* oftenfrom the same hand? Another offense he gave the people, was, his building a temple to Diana, under the name of Aristobule, or Diana of the best counsel, intimating that he had given the best counsel, not only to Athens, but to all Greece. He built this temple near his own house, in the quarter of Melita, where now the executioners cast out the bodies of those that have suffered death, and where they throw the halters and clothes of such as have been strangled or otherwise put to death. There was even in our times a statue of Themistocles in this temple of Diana Aristobule, from which it appeared that his aspect was as heroic as his soul. At last the Athenians, unable any longer to bear that high distinction iu which he stood, banished him by the Ostracism; and this was no- thing more than they had done to others, whose power was become a burden to them, and who had risen above the equality which a commonwealth requires; for the Ostracism, or ten years 1 banish- ment, was not so much intended to punish this or that great man, as to pacify and mitigate the fury of envy, who delights in the disgrace of superior characters, and loses a part of her rancor by their fall. In the time of his exile, while he took up hia abode at Argos,* the affair of Pausanias gave great advantage to the enemies of Themistocles. The person that accused him of treason, was Leobotes, the son jf Alcmaeon, of Agraule, and the Spartans joined in the impeachment. Pau- sanias at first concealed his plot from Themis- tocles, though he was his friend; but when he saw him an exile, and full of indignation against the * The great Pausanius, who had beaten the Persians in the battle of Platzea, and who, on many occasions, had behaved with great generosity as well as moderation, at last degene- rated and fell into a scandalous treaty with the Persians, in hopes, through their interest, to make himself sovereign of Greece. As soon as he had conceived these strange notions, he fell into the manners of the Persians, affected all their lux- ury and derided the plain customs of his country, of which he had formerly been so fond. The Ephori waited some time for clear proof of his treacherous designs, and when they had obtained it, determined to imprison him. But he fled into the temple of Minerva Chalcioicos, and they besieged him there. They walled up all the gates, and his own mo- ther laid the first stone. When they had almost starved him to death, they laid hands on him, and by the time th/ had got him out of the temple, he expired. 102 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Athenians, he ventured to communicate his de- signs to him, showing him the King of Persia's letters, and exciting him to vengeance against the Greeks, as an unjust and ungrateful people. Themistocles rejected the solicitations of Pau- samas, and refused to have the least share in his designs; but he gave no information of what had passed between them, nor let the secret transpire; whether he thought he would desist of himself, or that he would be discovered some other way, as he had embarked in an absurd and extravagant enterprise without any rational hopes of success. However, when Pausanias was put to death, there were found letters and other writings re- lative to the business, which caused no small sus- picion against Themistocles. The Lacedemoni- ans raised a clamor against him ; and those of his fellow-citizens that envied him insisted on the charge He could not defend himself in person, but he answered by letter the principal parts of the accusation. For, to obviate the calumnies of his enemies, he observed to the Athenians, " That he who was born to command, and incapable of servitude, could never sell himself, and Greece along with him, to enemies and barbarians." The people, however, listened to his accusers, and sent them with orders to bring him to his answer before the states of Greece. Of this he had timely notice, and passed over to the isle of Corcyra; the inhabitants of which had great obligations to him, for a difference between them and the people of Corinth had been referred to his arbi- tration, and he had decided it by awarding the Corinthians* to pay down twenty talents and the isle of Leucas to be in common between the two parties, as a colony from both. From thence he fled to Epirus; and, finding himself still pursued by the Athenians and Lacedemonians, he tried a very hazardous and uncertain resource, in implo- ring the protection of Admetus, king of the Mo- lossians. Admetus had made a request to the Athenians, which being rejected with scorn by Themistocles in the time of his prosperity and influence, in the state, the king entertained a" deep resentment against him, and made no secret of his intention to revenge himself, if ever the Athe- nian should fall into his power. However, while he was thus flying from place to place, he was more afraid of the recent envy of his country- men, than of the consequences of an old quarrel with the king; and therefore he went and put himself in his hands, appearing before him as a supplicant in a particular and extraordinary man- ner.f He took the king's son, who was yet a child, in his arms, and kneeled down before the household gods. This manner of offering a peti- tion, the Molossians look upon as the most effect- ual, and the only one that can hardly be rejected. Some say the queen, whose name was Phthia, suggested this method of supplication to Themis- tocles. Others, that Admetus himself taught him to act the part, that he might have a sacred obli- gation to allege against giving him up to those that might come to demand him. At that time Epicrates, the Acarnanian, found The scholiast upon Thucydides tells us, Themistocles served the people of Ooreyra in an affair of greater import- ance. The states of Greece were inclined to make war upon that island for not joining in the league against Xerxes- but Themistocles represented, that, if they were in that manner to punish all the cities that had not acceded to the league, their proceedings would bring greater calamities upon Greece than it had suffered from the barbarians. t It was nothing particular for a suppliant to do homage .j the household gods of the person to whom he had a re- quest; but to do it with the king's son in his anc was an *tiaordiniiy circumstance. means to convey the wife and children of Themis- tocles out of Athens, and sent them f o him; for which Cimon afterward condemned him and put him to death. This account is given by Stesim- brotus; yet I know not how, forgetting what he had asserted, or making Themistocles forget it, ho tells us he sailed from thence to Sicily, and de- manded king Hiero's daughter in marriage, prom- ising to bring the Greeks under his subjection; and that, upon Hiero's refusal, he passed over into Asia. But this is not probable. For Theo- phrastus, in his treatise on monarchy, relates, that, when Hiero sent his race-horses to the Olym- pic games, and set up a superb pavilion there, Themistocles harangued the Greeks, to persuade them to pull it down, and not to suffer the ty- rant's horses to run. Thucydides writes that he went by land to the JEgean sea, and embarked at Pydna; that none in the ship knew him, until he was driven by storm to Naxos, which was at that time besieged by the Athenians; that, through fear of being taken, he then informed the master of the ship, and pilot, who he was; and that partly by entreaties, partly by threatening he would declare to the Athenians, however falsely, that they knew him from the first, and we-re bribed to take him into their vessel, he obliged them to weigh anchor and sail for Asia. The greatest part of his treasures was privately sent after him to Asia by his friends. What was discovered and seized for the public use, Theo- pompus says, amounted to a hundred talents ; Theophrastus, fourscore, though he was not worth three talents before his employments in the gov- ernment.* When he was landed at Cuma, he understood that a number of people, particularly ErgoteSes and Pythodorus, were watching to take him. He was, indeed, a rich booty to those that were deter- mined to get money by any means whatever ; for the king of Persia had offered by proclamation two hundred talents for apprehending him.f He, therefore, retired to ^Egas, a little town of the ^Eolians, where he was known to nobody but Nicogenes. his host, who was a man of great wealth, and had some interest at the Persian court. In his house he was concealed a few days ; and, one evening after supper, when the sacrifice was offered, Olbius, tutor to Nicogenes's children, cried out, as in a rapture of inspiration, Counsel, O night, and victory are thine. After this Themistocles went to bed, and dream- ed he saw a dragon coiling round his body, and creeping up to his neck ; which, as soon as it had touched his face, was turned into an eagle, and covering him with its wings, took him up and carried him to a distant place, where a golden scepter appeared to him, upon which he rested securely, and was delivered from all his fear and trouble. In consequence of this warning, he was sent away by Nicogenes, who contrived this method for it. The barbarians in general, especially the Persians, are jealous of the women even to mad- ness ; not only of their wives, but their slaves and * This is totally inconsistent with that splendor in which, according to Plutarch's own account, he lived, before he had any public appointments. t The resentment of Xerxes is not at all to be wondered at, since Themistocles had not only beaten him in the bat- tle of Salamis, but, what was more disgraceful still, had made him a dupe to his designing persuasions and repre- sentations. In the loss of victory he had some consolation, as he was not himself the immediate cause of it, hut for hi ridiculous return to Asia, his anger could only fall upon him If and Themistocles. THEMISTOCLES. 103 Concubines ; for, beside the care they take that .hey shall be seen by none but their own family, they keep them like prisoners in their houses ; and when they take a journey, they are put in a carriage close covered on all sides. In such a carriage as this Themistocles was conveyed, the attendants being instructed to tell those they met, if they happened to be questioned, that they were carrying a Grecian lady from Ionia to a noble- man at court. Thucydides and Charon of Lampsacus, relate that Xerxes was then dead, and that it was to his son* Artaxerxes that Themistocles addressed him- self. But Ephoras, Dinon, Clitarchus, Heraclides, and several others, write that Xerxes himself was then upon the throne. The opinion of Thucydides seems most agreeable to chronology, though that is not perfectly well settled. Themistocles, now ready for the dangerous experiment, applied first to Artabanus,t a military officer, and told him, "He was a Greek, who desired to have audience of the king, about matters of great importance, which the king himself had much at heart." Ar- tabanus answered, -''The laws of men are different; some esteem one thing honorable, and some an- other ; but it becomes all men to honor and ob- serve the customs of their own country. With you the thing most admired is said to be liberty and equality. We have many excellent laws ; and we regard it as one of the most indispensable, to honor the king, and to adore him as the image of that deity who preserves and supports the uni- verse. If, therefore, you are willing to conform to GUI customs, and to prostrate yourself before the king, you may be permitted to see him and speak to him. But if you cannot bring yourself to this, you must acquaint him with your business by a third person. It would be an infringement of the custom of his country, for the king to admit any one to audience that does not worship him." To this, Themistocles replied, "My business, Arta- banus, is to add to the king's honor and power ; therefore I will comply with your customs, since the god that has exalted the Persians will have it so ; and by my means the number of the king's wor- shipers will be increased. So let this be no hin- drance to my communicating to the king what I have tosay." "But who, "said Artabanus, " shall we say you are ? for by your discourse you appear to be no ordinary person." Themistocles answered, " Nobody must know that before the king him- self." So Phanias writes ; and Eratosthenes, in his treatise on riches, adds, that Themistocles was brought acquainted with Artabanus, and recom- mended to him by an Eretrian woman, who be- longed to that officer. When he was introduced f.o the king, and, after his prostration, stood silent, the king command- ed the interpreter to ask him who he was. The interpreter accordingly put the question, and he answered," The man that is now come to address himself to you, king, is Themistocles the Athe- nian ; an exile persecuted by the Greeks. The Persians have suffered much by me, but it has been more than compensated by my preventing your being pursued ; when after I had delivered Greece and saved my own country, I had it in my power to do you also a service. My sentiments are suitable to my present misfortunes, and I Themistocles, therefore, arrived at the Persian court in the first year of the 79th Olympiad, 462 years before the birth of Christ; for that was the first year of Artaxerxes's reign. tSon of that Artabanus, captain of the guards, who slew Xerxes, and persuaded Artaxerxes to cut off his elder bro- Uier Darius. come prepared either to receive yonr favor, f you are reconciled to me, or, if you retain any resentment, to disarm it by my submission. Re- ject not the testimony my enemies have given to the services I have done the Persians, and make use of the opportunity my misfortunes afford you, rather to show your generosity than to satisfy your revenge. If you save me, you save your suppliant ; if you destroy me, you destroy the enemy of Greece."* In hopes of influencing the king by an argument drawn from religion, The- mistocles added to this speech an account of the vision he had in Nicogenes's house, and an oracle of Jupiter of Dodona, which ordered him to go to one who bore the same name with the god ; from which he concluded he was sent to him, since both were called, and really were, great kings. The king gave him no answer, though he ad- mired his courage and magnanimity ; but, with his friends, he felicitated himself upon this, as the most fortunate event imaginable. We are also told, that he prayed to Arimanius,\ that his ene- mies might ever be so infatuated as to drive from among them their ablest men ; that he offered sacrifice to the gods ; and immediately after made a great entertainment ; nay, that he was so affec- ted with joy, that when he retired to rest, in the midst of his sleep, he called out three times, / have Themistocles the Athenian. As soon as it was day, he called together his friends, and ordered Themistocles to be brought before him. The exile expected no favor when he found that the guards, at the first hearing of his name, treated him with rancor, and loaded him with reproaches. Nay, when the king had taken his seat, and a respectful silence ensued, Roxanes, one of his officers, as Themistocles passed him, whispered him with a sigh, Ah! thou subtile serpent of Greece, the king's good genius has brought thee hither. However, when he had prostrated himself twice in the presence, the king saluted him, and spoke to him graciously, telling him. "He owed him two hundred talents ; for, as he har> delivered himself up, it was but just that he should receive the reward offered to any one that should bring him. Pie promised him much more, as- sured him of his protection, and ordered him to declare freely whatever he had to propose con- cerning Greece." Themistocles replied, "That a man's discourse was like a piece of tapestry} which, when spread open, displays its figures ; but when it is folded up, they are hidden and lost ; therefore he begged time." The king, de- lighted with the comparison, bade him take what time he pleased ; and he desired a year : in which space he learned the Persian language, so as to ba able to converse with the king without an inter- preter. Such as did not belong to the court, believed that he entertained their prince on the subject of the Grecian affairs; but as there were then many changes in the ministry, he incurred the envy of the nobility, who suspected that he had presumed to speak too freely of them to the king. The honors that were paid him were far superior to those that other strangers had experienced; the king took him with him a hunting, conversed familiarly with him in his palace, and introduced him to the queen mother, who honored him with her confidence. * How extremely abject and contemptible is this petition, wherein the suppliant founds every argument in his favor upon his vices. t The god of darkness, the supposed author of plagues and calamities, was called Jlhriman or Arimanius. \ In this he artfully conformed to the figurative manner of speaking, in use among the eastern nations. 104 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. He likewise gave orders for his being instructed in j in Magnesia, which he dedicated to Cybele Dindy~ the learning of the Mayi. \mene and appointed his daughter Mnssiptolema D -maratus, the Lacedaemonian, who was then at j priestess of it. courl, being orlered to ask a fuvor, desired that he, j When he was come to Sardis, he diverted him- mi,'ht he carried lbrU;<h S;tr lisin royal state,* with | self with looking upon tlic ornaments of the a diadem upon his head. But Mitliropaustes, the j temples ; and among the great number of offer- king's cousin-germ'tn, took him by the hand, and ings, iie found in the temule of Cybele, a female said, Demtiratu--;, thts diadem does not carry brains i figure of brass two cubits high, called Hydrophorus along with it to cooc.r ; nor would you be, Jupiter, or the water-bearer, which he himself, when sur- though you should take hold of his thunder. The king was highly displeased at Demaratus for making this request, and. -seemed determined never to for- give him ; yet, at the desire of Themistocles, he was persuaded to be reconciled to him. And in the following reigns, when the affairs of Persia and Greece were more closely connected, as oft as the kings requested a f.ivor of any Grecian captain, they are said to have promised him, in express terms, That he should be ayrcater man at their court than TttemUlocles had been. Nay, we are told, that Ttiemistocles himself, in the midst of his greatness, and the extraordinary respect that was paid him, seeing his table most elegantly spread, turned to his children, and said, Children, we should have been undone, had it not been for our undoing. Most au- thors agree, that he had three cities given him, for bread, wine, and >neat, Magnesia, Lampsacus, and Myus.f Neii n lies of Cyzicus, and Pnanius, add two more, Percote and Palaescepsis, for his cham- ber and his wardrobe. Some business relative to Greece having brought him to the sea-coast, a Persian, named Epixyes, governor of Upper Phrygia, who had a design upon his life, and had long prepared certain Pisi- dians to kill him, when he should lodge in a city called Leontooephalus, or Lion's Head, now deter- mined to put it in execution. But, as he lay sleeping one day at noon, the mother of the gods w said to have appeared to him in a dream, an I thus to have adiressed him: " Beware, Themis- tocles, of the Lion's Head, lest the Lion crush you. For this warning I require of you Mnesip- tolema for my servant." Themistocles awoke in great disorder, and when he had devoutly returned thanks to the goddess, left the high road, and took another way, to avoid the place of danger. At night he took up his lodging beyond it ; but as one of the horses tint had carried his tent had fallen into a river, and his servants were busied in spreading the wet hangings to dry, the Pisidians, who were advancing with their swords drawn, saw these hangings indistinctly by moonlight, and taking them for the tent of Thernistocles, expected to find him reposing himself within. They ap- proaehi-d, therefore, and lifted up the hangings ; but the servants that had the care of them, fell upon them, an! took them. The danger thus avoided, Themi tocles admiring the goodness of the go idess that appeared to him, built a temple veyor of the aqueducts at Athens, had caused to be made and dedicated out of the fines of such as had stolen the water, or diverted the stream. Whether it was that he was moved at seeing this statue in a strange country, or that he was de- sirous to show the Athenians how much he was honored,* and what power he had all over the king's dominions, he addressed himself to the governor of Lydia, and begged leave to send back the statue to Athens. The barbarian immediately took fire, and said he would certainly acquaint the king what sort of a request he had made him. Themistocles, alarmed at this meimce, applied to the governor's women, and, by money, prevailed upon them to pacify him. After this, he behaved with more prudence, sensible how much he had to fear from the envy of the Persians. Hence, he did not travel about Asia, as Theopompus says, but took up his abode at Magnesia ; where loaded with valuable presents, and equally honored with the Persian nobles, he long lived in great security ; for the king, who was engaged in the affairs of the upper provinces, gave but little attention to the concerns of Greece. But when Egypt revolted, and was supported in that revolt by the Athenians, when the Grecian fleet sailed as far as Cyprus and Celicia, and Cimon rode triumphant master of the seas, then the king of Persia applied himself to oppose the Greeks, and to prevent the growth of their power. He put his forces in motion, sent out his generals, and dispatched messengers to Themistocles at Magnesia, to command him to perform his prom- ises, and exert himself against Greece. Did he not obey the summons then? No neither re- sentment against the Athenians, nor the honors and authority in which he now flourished, could prevail upon him to take the direction of the ex- pedition. Possibly he might doubt the event of the war, as Greece Ijad then several great generals and Cimon in particular was distinguished witlp extraordinary success. Above all, regard for his own achievements, and the trophies he had gained, whose, glory he was unwilling to tarnish, deter- mined him (as the best method he could take) to put such an end to his life as became iiis dignity, f Having, therefore, sacrificed to the gods, assembled his friends, and taken his last leave, he drank bull's blood, J as is generally reported; or, as some relate it, he took a quick poison, and ended his * This was the highest mark of honor whi>-h the Persian kings could give. Ahasnerus, the same with Xerxes, the father of this Artaxerxes, had not long before ordained that Mordecai should be honored in that manner. t The country about M:ifnesia wns so fertile, that it brought Themistocles a revenue of fifty talents. Lampsacus had in its neighborhood the noblest vineyards of the east; and Myus or Myon abounded in provisions, particularly in fish. It was usual with the eastern monarchs, instead of pensions to their favorites, to assign them cities and prov- inces. Even snch provinces as the kings retained the reve- nue of, were under pai'icular assignments; one province furnishing so much for Wine, another for victuals, a third the privy purse, and a fourth for the wardrobe. One of the queens had all Egypt, for her clothing; and Plato tells us (1 Alcibiad.) that many of the provinces were appropriated for the queen's wardrobe; one for her girdle, another for her bead. dress, and so of the rest; and each province bore the aame of that part of the dress it was to furnish. * It is not improbable that this proceeded from a principle of vanity. The love of admiration was the ruling passiom of Themistocles, and discovers itself uniformly through his whole conduct. There might, however, be another reason which Plutarch has not mentioned. Themistocles was an excellent manager in poliiical religion He had lately been eminently distinguished by the favor of Cybele. He finds an Athenian statue in her temple. The goddess consents that he should send it to Athens : and the Athenians, ont of respect to the goddess, must of course cease to persecute her favorite Themistocles. t Thucydides, who was contemporary with Themistocles, only says, He died of a distemper; but some report that he poisoned himself, seeing it impossible to accomplish what he had promised the kins'. Thucyd. de Bell. Pelopon. I. i. J While they were sacrificing the bull, he caused the blood to be received in a cup,~and drank it while it wa warm, which (according to Pliny) is mortal, because it C9 agulates or thickens in an instant. C A M I L L U S . 105 <eys at Magnesia, having lived sixty-five years, most of which he h;ul spent in civil or military employments. When the king was acquainted with the cause and manner of his death, he admir- ed him more than ever, and continued hit favor and bounty to his friends and relations.* Thsroistocles had by Archippe, the daughter of Lysander of Alopece, five sons, Neocles, Diocles, Archeptolis. Polveucles, and Cieophantus. The three last survived him Plato takes notice of Cleophantus as an excellent horseman, but a man of no merit in other respects. Neocles, his eldest son, died when a child by the bite, of a horse ; and Diocles was adopted by his grandfather Ly- sander. He had several daughters, namely, Mne- siptoleina, by a second wife, who was married to Archeptolis, her half brother; Italia, whose hus- band was Paatludes of Chios; Sibaris, married to Nicomedes the Athenian; and Nichornache, at Magnesia, to Phrasicles, the nephew of Themis- tocles, who, after her father's death, took a voyage for that purpose, received her at the hands of her brothers, and brought up her sister Asia, the you ng- eet of the children. The Magnesians erected a very handsome mon- ument to him, which still remains in the market- place. No credit is to be given to Andocides, who writes to his friends, that the Athenians stole his ashes out of the tomb, and scattered them in the air ; for it is an artifice of his to exasperate the nobility against the people. Phylarchus, too, more like a writer of tragedy than an historian, availing himself of what may be called a piece of machi- nery, introduces Niocles and Demopolis as the sons of Themistocles^to make his story the more inter- esting and pathetic. But a very moderate degree of sagacity may discover it to be a fiction. Yet Diodorus the geographer writes in his Treatise of Sepulchers, but rather by conjecture than certain knowledge, that, near the harbor of Pirasus, from the promontory of Alcimus,f the land makes an elbow, and when you have doubled it inward, by the still water there is a vast foundation, upon which stands the tomb of Thernistocles,} in the form of an altar. With him Plato, the comic writer, is supposed to agree in the following lines: Oft as the merchant speeds the passing sail, Thy tomb, Thernistocles, he stops to hail; When hostile ships in martial combat meet, Thy shade attending hovers o'er the fleet. Various honors and privileges were granted by the Magnesians to the descendants of Themisto- cles. which continued down to our times ; for they were enjoyed by one of his name, an Athenian, with whom I had a particular acquaintance and friendship in the house of Ammonius the philoso- pher. C A M I L L U S . AMONG the many remarkable things related of Fnrius Camillus, the most extraordinary seems to be this, that though he was often in the highest commands, and performed the greatest actions, choose to be consul against the inclinations of the people, though the comitia, or assemblies in which they might have elected consuls, were several times held in that period. In all his other coin- though he was five times chosen dictator, though missions, which were many and various, he so he triumphed four times, and was styled the second | conducted himself, that if he was intrusted with the sole power, he shared it with others, and if he had a colleague, the glory was his own. The au- thority seemed to be shared by reason of his great modesty in command, which gave no occasion to envy; and the glory was secured to him by his genius and capacity, in which he was universally allowed to have no equal. The Family of the Furiif was not very illus- trious before his time; he was the first that raised it to distinction, when he served under Posthumius Tibertius, in the great battle with the Equi and Volsci. In that action, spurring his horse before the ranks, he received a wound in the thigh, when, instead of retiring, he plucked the javelin out of the wound, engaged with the bravest of the ene- my, and put them to flight.} For this, among founder of Rome, yet he was never once consul. Perhaps we may discover the reason in the state of the commonwealth at that time : the people, then at variance with the senate,* refused to elect consuls, and, instead of them put the government into the hands of military tribunes. Though these acted, indeed, with consular power and authority, yet their administration was less grievous to the people, because they wTe more in number. To have the direction of affairs intrusted to six persons instead of two, was some ease and satisfaction to a people that could not bear to be dictated to by the nobility. Camillus, then distinguished by hi.s achievements and at the bight of glory, did not * There is, in our opinion, more true heroism in the death of Themistocles than in the death of Cato. It is something enthusiastically greHt, when a man determines not to sur- vive his liberty; but it is something still greai.er, when he refuses to survive his honor. t Menrsius rightly corrects it. Jlti-mus. We find no place iu Attica called Alcintu*, but a borough named Alimus there was, on the east, of the Piraeus. t Thucydides says, that the bones of Thernistocles, by his own command, were privately carried back into Attica, and buried there. But Pausanias agrees with Theodorus, * The old quarrel about the distribution of lands was re- vived, the people insisting that every citizen should have an equal share. The senate met frequently to disconcert the proposal; at last Appius Clandins moved, that some of the college of the tribunes of the people should be ginned, as the only remedy against the tyranny of that body: which . , was accordingly put in execution. The commons, thus di>- that the Athenians, repenting ot their ill usage of this great j appointed, chose military tribunes, instead of consuls, ar:< man, honored him with a tomb in the Pineus. sometimes ' It doos not appear, indeed, that Thernistocles, when ban- ished, had any design either to revenge himself on Athens, or to take refuge in the court of the king of Persia. The Greeks themselves forced him upon this, or rather the Lace- dffitnonians; for, as by their intrigues his countrymen were induced to banish bin , so, by their importunities after he was banished, he was not suffered to enjoy any refuge in quiet. s had them all plebeians. Liu. 1. iv, c. 48. t Furius was the family name. Camillus (as has been already observed) was an appellation of children of quality who administered in the temple of some god. Our Camil- lus was tne first who retained it as a surname. J This was in the year of Rome 324, when Camillus might be about fourteen or fifteen years of age (for in the year of Rome 389 he was near fourscore), though the Roman youth did not use to bear arms sooner than seventeen. Aad 106 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. other honors, he was appointed censor, an office at that time of great dignity.* There is upon re- cord a very laudable act of his, that took place during his office. As the wars had made many widows, he obliged such of the men as lived single, partly by persuasion, and parity* by threatening them" with fines, to marry those widows. An- other act of his, which indeed was absolutely necessary, was, the causing the orphans, who before were exempt from taxes, to contribute to the supplies; for these were very large, by reason of the continual wars. What was then most urgent was the siege of Veii, whose inhabitants some call Veuetani. This city was the barrier of Tuscany, and, in the quantity of her arms and number of her military, not inferior to Rome. Proud of her wealth, her elegance, and luxury, she had maintained with the Romans many long and gallant disputes for glory and for power. But humbled by many signal defeats, the Veientes had then bid adieu to that ambition ; they satisfied themselv.es with building strong and high walls, and filling the city with provisions, arms, and all kinds of warlike stores; and so they waited for the enemy without fear. The siege was long, but no less laborious and troublesome to the besiegers than to them. For the Romans had long been accustomed to summer campaigns only, and to winter at home; and then for the first time their officers ordered them to construct forts, to raise strong works about their camp and to pass the winter as well as summer in the enemy's country. The seventh year of the war was now almost passed, when the generals began to be blamed; and as it was thought they showed not sufficient vigor in the siege, f they were superseded, and others put in (heir room; among whom was Camillus, then appointed tribune the second time. He was not, however, at present concerned in the siege, for it fell to his lot to head the expedition against the Falisci and Capenates, who, while the Romans were otherwise employed, committed great depre- dations in their country, and harassed them dur- ing the whole Tuscan war. But Camillus, falling upon them, killed great numbers, and shut up the rest within their walls. During the. hat of the war, a phenomenon ap- peared in the Alban lake, which might be reckon- ed among the strangest prodigies; and, as no com- mon or natural cause could be assigned for it, it occasioned great consternation. The summer was now declining, and the season by no means rainy, though Plutarch says that, his gallant behavior at that time procured him the censorship, yet that was an office which the Romans never conferred upon a young person; and, in fact, Camiilus was not censor until the year of Rome 353. * The authority of the censors, in the time of the repub- lic, was very extensive. They had a power to expel sena- tors the house, to degrade the knights, and to disable the ommons from giving their votes in the assemblies of the jeople. But the emperors took the office upon themselves; nd as many of them abused it, it lost its honor, and some- mes the very title was laid aside. As to what Plutarch ivs, that Camillus, when censor, obliged many of the bachelors to marry the widows of those who had "fallen in the wnrs, t'mt was in pursuance of one of the powers of his office. Cvlibis es*e pru/iibcnto. t Of the six military tribunes of that year, only two, L. Virginius and M'anius Sergius, carried on the siege of Veii! Sergius commanded the attack, and Virginitis covered the siege. While the army was thus divided, the Falisci and Capenates fell upon Sergius, and, at the same time, the be- sieged sallying out, attacked him on the other side. The Romans under his command, thinking they had all the forces of Hetmria to deal with, began to lose courage and retire. Virginius could have saved his colleague's troops, but as Sergius was too proud to send to him for succor, he resolved not to give him any. The enemy, therefore, made a dread- ful slaughter of the Romans iu their lines. Liv. lib. v, c. 8. t The year of Rome 357. nor remarkable for south winds. Of the many springs, brooks, and lakes, which Italy abounds with, some were dried up, and others but feebly resisted the drought; the rivers always low in the summer, then ran with a very slender stream. But the Alban lake, which has its source within itself, and discharges no part of its water, being quite surrounded with mountains, without any cause, unless it was a supernatural one, began to rise and swell in a most remarkable manner, in- creasing until it reached the .sides, and at last, the very tops of the hills, all which happened without any agitation of its waters. For awhile it was the wonder of the shepherds and herdsmen: but when the earth, which like a mole, kept it from overflowing the country below, was broken down with the quantity and weight of water, then de- scending like a torrent through the plowed fields and other cultivated grounds to the sea, it not only astonished the Romans, but was thought by all Italy to portend some extraordinary event. It was the great subject of conversation in the camp before Veii, so that it came at last to be known to the besieged. As in the course of long sieges there is usually some conversation with the enemy, it happened that a Roman soldier formed an acquaintan"is with one of the townsmen, a man versed in an- cient traditions, and supposed to be more than ordinarily skilled in divination. The Roman per- ceiving that he expressed great satisfaction at the story of the lake, and thereupon laughed at the siege, told him, "This was not the only wonder the times had produced, but other prodigies still stranger than this had happened to the Romans; which he should be glad to communicate to him, if by that means he could provide for his own safety in the midst of the public ruin." The man readily hearkening to the proposal, came out to him, expecting to hear some secret, and the Roman continued the discourse, drawing him for- ward by degrees, until they were at some distance from the gates. Then he snatched him up in his arms and by his superior strength held him, until with the assistance of several soldiers from the camp he was secured and carried before the gene- rals. The man reduced to this necessity, and knowing that destiny cannot be avoided, declared the secret oracles concerning his own country, "That the city could never be taken, until the waters of the Alban lake, which had now forsaken their bed, and found new passages, were turned back, or so diverted, as to prevent their mixing with the sea." * The senate, informed of this prediction, and de- liberating upon it, were of opinion, it would be best to send to Delphi to consult the oracle. They chose for this purpose three persons of honor and distinction, Lucinius Cossus, Valerius Potitus, and Fabius Ambustus; who, having had a prosperous voyage, and consulted Apollo, returned with this among other answers, " That they had neglected some ceremonies in the Latin feasts."f As to the water of the Alban lake, they were ordered, if possible, to shut it up in its ancient bed: or, if that could not be effected, to dig canals and trenches for it, until it lost itself on the land. Agreeably to this direction, the priests were employed in. * The prophesy, according to Livy (1. v, c. 15 ), was this, Veil shall never be taken until all the water is run out of thf lake, of Mba. t These feasts were instituted by Tarquin the Proni The Romans presided in them; but all the people of Latiao were to attend them, and to partake of a bull then sacrifices to Jupiter Latialis. C AMILLUS. 107 offering sacrifices, and the people in labor, to turn the course of the water.* In the tenth year of the siege, the senate re- moved the other magistrates, and appointed Ca- millas dictator, who made choice of Cornelius Scipio for his general of horse. In the first place he made vows to the gods, if they favored him with putting a glorious period to the war, to celebrate the great circensian games to their honor.f and to consecrate the temple of the goddess, whom the Ro- mans call the mother Matuta. By her sacred rites we may suppose this last to be the goddess Leu- cothea. For they take a female slave into the inner part of the temple,* where they beat her, and then drive her out; tht.'y carry their brother's children in their arms instead of their own; and they represent in the ceremonies of the sacrifice all that happened to the nurses of Bacchus, and what Ino suffered for having saved the sou of Juno's rival. After these vows, Camillus penetrated into the country of the Falisci, and in a great battle over- threw them and their auxiliaries the Capenates. Then he turned to the siege of Veii; and perceiv- ing it would be both difficult and dangerous to endeavor to take it by assault, he ordered mines to be dug, the soil about the city being easy to work, and admitting of depth enough for the works to be carried on unseen by the enemy. As this suc- ceeded to his wish, he made an assault without, to call the enemy to the walls; and, in the meantime, others of his soldiers made their way through the mines, and secretly penetrated to Juno's temple in the citadel. This was the most considerable temple in the city; and we are told, that at that instant the Tuscan general happened to be sacri- ficing; when the soothsayer, upon inspection of the entrails, cried out, " The gods promise victory to him that shall finish this sacrifice; "|| the Ro- mans who were under ground, hearing what he said, immediately removed the pavement, and came out with loud shouts and clashing their firms, which struck the enemy with such terror, that they fled, and left the entrails, which were carried to Camillus. But perhaps this has more of the air of fable than of history. The city thus taken by the Romans, sword in hand, while they were busy in plundering it and carrying off its immense riches, Camillus beholding from the citadel what was done, at first burst into tears, and when those about him began to magnify his happiness, he lifted up his hands toward heaven, and uttered this prayer, "Great Jupiter, and ye gods that have the inspection of our good and evil actions, ye know th;it th# Romans not without just cause, but in their own defense, and constrain- ed by necessity, have made war against this city, and their enemies, its unjust inhabitants. If we must have some misfortune in lieu of this success, I entreat that it may fall, not upon Rome or the Roman army, but upon myself: yet lay not, ye * This wonderful work subsists to this day, and the waters of the lake Albano run through it. t These were a kind of tournament in the great circus. i Leucothoea or [no was jealous of one of her female slaves, who was the favorite of her husband Athamas. Ino vvas a very unhappy mother; for she had seen her on Learchur slain by her husband, whereupon she threw herself into the sea with her other son Melicertes. But she was a more fortunate aunt, having preserved Bacchus, the son of her sister Semele. || Words spoken by persons unconcerned in their affairs, and upon a quite different subject, were interpreted by the heathens as good or bad omens, if they happened to be any way applicable to their case. And they took great pains to fulfill the omen, if they thought it fortunate; as well as to rade it, if it appeared unlucky. gods, a heavy hand upon me!"* Havtng pro- nounced these words, he turned to the right, as the manner of the Romans is after prayer and suppli- cation, but fell in turning. His friends that were by, expressed great uneasiness at the accident, but he soon recovered himself from the fall, and told them, " It was only a small inconvenience after great success, agreeable to his prayer."! After the city was pillaged, he determined, pur- suant to his vow, to remove this statue of Juno to Rome. The workmen were assembled for the pur- pose, and he offered sacrifice to the goddess, "Be- seeching her to accept of their homage, and gra- ciously to take up her abode among the- the gods of Rome." To which it is said, the statue suftly answered, "She was willing and ready to do it." But Livy says, Camillus, in offering up his peti- tion, touched the image of the goddess, and en- treated her to go with them, and that some of the slanders by answered, "She consented, and would willingly follow them." Those that sup- port and defend the miracle, have the fortune of Rome on their side, which could never have risen from such small and contemptible beginnings to that hight of glory and empire, without the^ con- stant assistance of some god, who favored 'them with many considerable tokens of his presence. Several miracles of a similar nature are also alleged ; as, that images have often sweated; that they have been heard to groan; and that sometimes they have turned from their votaries, and shut their eyes. Many such accounts we have from our ancients; and not a few persons of our own times have given us wonderful relations, not un- worthy of notice. But to give entire credit to them, or altogether to disbelieve them, is equally danger- ous, on account of human weakness. We keep not always within the bounds of reason, nor are masters of our minds. Sometimes we fall into vain superstition, and sometimes into an impious neglect of all religion. It is best to be cautious, and to avoid extremes.* Whether it was that Camillus was elated with his great exploit in taking a city that was the rival of Rome, after it had been besieged ten years, or that he was misled by his flatterers, he took upon him too much state for a magistrate subject to the laws and usages of his country; for his triumph was conducted with excessive pomp, and he rode through Rome in a chariot drawn by four white horses, which no general ever did before or after him. Indeed, this sort of carriage is esteemed sacred, and is appropriated to the king and father of the gods. The citizens, therefore, considered this unusual appearance of grandeur as an insult upon them. Beside, they were offen- ded at his opposing the law by which the city was to be divided. For their tribunes had propos- * Livy, who has given us this prayer, has not qualified it with that modification so unworthy of Camillus, tl; t\*%t;w x.*x.u>rnKWT>;<rat, may it be with as little detriment as possible to myself. On the contrary, he says, ut earn ijividiam Icnire suo privatoincomtnodo, quam minima pub* lico populi Romani liccrit. Camillus prayed, that, if this success must have an equivalent in some ensuing misfortune, that misfortune might fall upon himself, and the Roman people escape with as little detriment as possible. This was great and heroic. Plutarch having but an imperfect knowledge of the Roman language, probably mistook the sense. t Livy tells us, it was conjectured from the event, that this fall of Camillus was a presage of his condemnation and banishment. t The great Mr. Addison seems to have had this passage of Plutarch in his eye, when he delivered his opinion con- cerning the doctrine" of witches. He likewise colored his face with vermilion, the color with which the statues of the gods were commonly paiat*i. 108 PLUTARCH'S LIVES ed that the senate and people should be divided I into two equal parts; one part to remain at Rome, j and the other, as the lot happened to fall, to remove to the conquered city, by which means they! would not ouly have more room, but by being in possession of two considerable cities, be better able to defend their territories, and to watch over their prosperity. The people, who were very numer- ous, and enriched by the late plunder, constantly assembled in the forum, and in a tumultuous man- ner demanded to have it put to the vote. But the senate and other principal citizens considered this proposal of the tribunes,.not so much the dividing as the destroying of Rome,* and in their uneasiness applied to Camillus. Camiilus was afraid to put it to the trial and therefore invented demurs and pretenses of delay, to prevent the bills being offered to the people; by which he incurred their displea- sure. But the greatest and most manifest cause of their hatred was, his behavior with respect to the tenths of the spoils: and if the resentment of the people was not in this case altogether just, yet it had some show of reason. It seems he made a vow, as he marched to Veil, that if he took the city, he would consecrate the tenths to Apollo. But when the city was taken, and came to be pillaged, he was either unwilling to interrupt his men, or in the hurry had forgot his vow, and so gave up the whole plunder to them. After he had resigned his dictatorship, he laid the case before the senate: and the soothsayers declared, that the sacrifices announced the ang^r of the gods, which ought to be appeased by offerings expressive of their grati- tude for the favors they had received. The senate then made a decree, that the plunder should remain with the soldiers (for they knew not how to man- age it otherwise); but that each should produce, upon oath, the tenth of the value of what he had got. This was a great hardship upon the soldiers; and those poor fellows could not without force be brought to refund so large a portion of the fruit of their labors, and to make good not only what they had hardly earned, but now actually spent. Camillus, distressed with their complaints, for want of a better excuse, made use of a very absurd apology, by acknowledging he had forgotten his vow. This they greatly resented, that, having then vowed the tenths of the enemy's goods, he should now exact the tenths of the citizens. How- ever, they all produced their proportion, and it was resolved, that a vase of massy gold should be made and sent to Delphi. But as there was a scarcity of gold in the city, while the magistrates were considering how to procure it, the Roman matrons met, and having consulted among them- selves, gave up their golden ornaments, which weighed eight talents, as an offering to the god. And the senate, in honor of their piety, decreed that they should have funeral orations as well as the men, which had not been the custom before.f They then sent three of the chief nobility ambassa- dors* in a large ship well manned, "and fitted out in a manner becoming so solemn an occasion. In this voyage, they were equally endangered by a storm and a calm, but escaped beyond all * They feared that two such cities would, by degrees, be- come two different states, which, after a destructive war with each other, would at length fall a prey to their common enemies. t The matrons had the value of the gold paid them: and it was not on this occasion, hut afterward, when they con- tributed their golden ornaments to make up the sum de- manded by the Gauls, that funeral orations were granted them. The privilege they were now favored with, was leave to ride in chariots at the public games and sacrifices, and in open carriages, of a less honorable sort, on other occasions, in the streets. expectation, when on the brink QJ' destruction. For the wind slackening near the .^olean islands, the galleys of the Lipareans gave thorn chase as pirates. Upon their stretching out their hands for mercy, the Lipareans used no violence to their per- sons, but towed the ship into harbor, and there ex- posed both them and their goods to sale, having first adjudged them to be lawful prize. With much difficulty, however, they were prevailed upon to release tiiem, out of regard to the merit and author- ity of Timesitheus, the chief magistrate of the place; who, moreover, conveyed them with his own vessels, and assisted in dedicating the gift. For this, suitable honors were paid him at Rome. And now the tribunes of the people attempted to bring the law for removing part of the citizens to Veil once more upon the carpet; but the war with the Falisci very seasonably intervening, put the management of the elections in the hands of the patricians; and they nominated Camillus a military tribune,* together with five others, as affairs then required a general of considerable dignity, reputa- tion, and experience. When the people had con- firmed this nomination, Camillus marched his forces into the country of the Falisci, and laid siege to Falerii a city well fortified, and provided in all respects for the war. He was sensible it was like to be no easy affair, nor soon to be dispatched, and this was one reason for his engaging in it; for he was desirous to keep the citizens employed abroad, that they might not have leisure to sit down at home and raise tumults and seditions. This was, indeed, a remedy which the Romans always had recourse to, like good physicians, to expel danger- ous humors from the body politic. The Falerians, trusting to the fortifications with which they were surrounded, made so little ac- count of the siege, that the inhabitants, except those who guarded the walks, walked the streets in their common habits. The boys too went to school, and the master took them out to walk and exercise about the walls. For the Falerians, like the Greeks, chose to have their children bred at one public school, that they might betimes be ac- customed to the same discipline, and form them- selves to friendship and society. This schoolmaster, then, designing to betray the Falerians by means of their children, took them every day out of the city to exercise, keeping pretty close to the walls at first, and when their exercise was over, led them in again. By degrees he took them out farther, accustoming them to divert themselves freely, as if they had nothing to fear. At last, having got them all together, he brought them to the Roman advanced guard, and delivered them up to be carried to Camillus. When he came into his presence, he said, "He was the schoolmaster of Falerii, but preferring his favor to the obligations of duty, he came to deliver up those children to him, and in them the Whole city." This action appeared very shocking to Camillus, and he said to those that were by, "War (at best) is a savage thing, and wades through a sea of vio- lence and injustice; yet even war itself has its laws, which men of honor will not depart from; nor do they so pursue victory, as to avail themselves of acts of villainy and baseness. For a great gen- eral should only rely on his own virtue, and not upon the treachery of others." Then he ordered the lictors to tear off the wretch's clothes, to tie his hands behind him, and furnish the boya with rods and scourges, to punish the traitor, and whip him into the city. By this time the Falerians The year of Rome 3G1. Camillas was then military tribune the third time. CAMILLUS. 109 flad discovered the schoolmaster's treason; the city, as might be expected, was full of lamentations for wo great a loss, and the principal inhabitants, both men and women, crowded about the walls and the gate like persons distracted. In the midst of this disc dor they espied the boys whipping on their master, naked and bound, and calling Camillus their god, their deliverer, their father. Not only the parents of those children, but all the citizens in general were struck with admiration at the spec- tacle, and conceived such an affection for the jus- tice of Camillus, that they immediately assembled in council, and sent deputies to surrender to him both themselves and their city. Camillus sent them to Rome: and when they were introduced to the senate, they said. "The Romans, in preferring justice to conquest, have taught us to be satisfied with submission instead of liberty. At the same time, we declare we do not think ourselves so much beneath you in strength, as inferior in virtue." The senate re- ferred the disquisition and settling of the articles of peace to Camillus; who contented himself with taking a sum of money of the Falerians, and having entered into alliance with the whole na- tion of the Falisci, returned to Rome. But the soldiers, who expected to have had the plundering of Falerii, when they came back empty- handed, accused Camillus to their fellow-citizens as an enemy to the commons, and one that maliciously opposed the interest of the poor. And when the tribunes again proposed the law for transplanting part of the citizens to Veii,* arid summoned the people to give their votes, Camillus spoke very freely, or rather with much asperity against it, appearing remarkably violent in his opposition to the people; who therefore lost their bill, but har- bored a strong resentment against Camillus. Even the misfortune he had in his family, of losing one of his sons, did not in the least mitigate their rage; though, us a man of great goodness and tenderness of heart, he was inconsolable for his loss, and shut himself up at home, a close mourn- er with the women, at the same time that they were lodging an impeachment against him. His accuser was Lucius Apuleius, who brought Hgainst him a charge of fraud with respect to the Tuscan spoils; and it was alleged that certain brass gates, a part of those spoils, were- found with him. The people were so much exasperated that it was plain they would lay hold on any pre- text to condemn him. He, therefore, assembled his friends, his colleagues, and fellow-soldiers, a great number in all, and begged of them not to suffer him to be crushed by false and unjust ac- cusations, and exposed to the scorn of his enemies. When they had consulted together, and fully con- sidered the affair, the answer they gave was, that they did not believe it in their power to prevent the sentence, but they would willingly assist him to pay the fine that might be laid upon him. He could not, however, bear the thoughts of so great an indignity, and giving way to his resentment, determined to quit the city as a voluntary exile. Having taken leave of his wife and children, he went in silence from his house to the gate of the r.ity.f There he made a stand, and turning about, stretched out his hands toward the Capitol, and prayed to the gods, "That if he was driven out without any fault of his own, and merely by the violence or'envy of the people, the Romans might quickly repent it, and express to all the world their want of Camillus, and their regret for his absence." When he had thus, like Achilles, uttered his imprecations against his countrymen, he depart- ed; and leaving his cause undefended, he was con- demned to paya fine of fifteen thousand cses; which, reduced to Grecian money, is one thousand five hundred drachma: for the as is a small coin that is the tenth part of a piece of silver, which for that reason is called denarius, and answers to our drachma. There is not a man in Rome who does not believe that these imprecations of Camillus had their effect; though the punishment of hia countrymen for their injustice, proved no ways agreeable to him, but on the contrary matter of grief. Yet how great, how memora'ble was that punishment! how remarkably did vengeance pur- sue the Romans! what danger, destruction, and disgrace, did those times bring upon the city! whether it was the work of fortune, or whether it is the office of some deity, to see that virtue shall not be oppressed by the ungrateful with im- punity.* The first token of the approaching calamities was the death of Julius the Censor.^ For the Romans have a particular veneration for the cen- sor, and look upon his office as sacred. A second token happened a little before the exile of Camil- lus. Marcus Ceditius, a man of no illustrious fam- ily indeed, nor of senatorial rank, but a person of great probity and virtue, informed the military tribunes of a matter which deserved great atten- tion. As he was going the night before along what is called the New Road, he said he was ad- dressed in a loud voice. Upon turning about he saw nobody, but heard these words in an accent more than human, '-Go, Marcus Ceditius, and early in the morning acquaint the magistrates, that they must shortly expect the Gauls." But the tribunes made a jest of the information, and soon after fol- lowed the disgrace of Camillus. The Gauls are of Celtic origin,} and are said to have left their country, which was too small to maintain their vast numbers, to go in search of another. These emigrants consisted of many thousands of young and able warriors, with a still greater number of women and children. Part of them took their route toward the northern ocean, crossed the Rhiphrean mountains, and settled in the extreme parts of Europe; and part established themselves for a long time between the Pyrenees and the Alps, near the Senones, and Celtorians. But happening to taste of wine, which was then for the first time brought out of Italy, they so much admired the liquor, and were so enchanted with this new pleasure, that they snatched up their arms, and taking their The patricians carried it against the bill, only by a ma- jority of one tribe. And now they were so well pleased with the people, that the very next morning 1 a decree was passed, assigning six acres of the lands of Veii, not only to every father of a family, but to every single person of free condition. On the other hand, the people, delighted with Uiis liberality, allowed the electing of consuls instead of military tribunes. t This was four years after the taking of Falerii. It was the goddess Nemesis whom the heathens believ. ed to have the office of punishing evil actions in this world, particularly pride and ingratitude. t The Greek text, as it now stands, instead of the censor , has the month of July; but that has been owing to ror of some ignorant transcriber. Upon the death of Julius, the censor, Marcus Cornelius was appointed ceed him; but as the censorship of the latter proved Julia the e Gait to si unfor unate, ever after, when a censor happened to die in his office, they not only forbore naming another in his place, but obliged his colleague too to quit bis dignity. J The ancients called all the inhabitants of the west and north, as far as Scythia, by the common name of Celtse. The country of the Senones contained Sens, Auxerre, and Troves, as far up as Paris. Who the Celtorii wen it not known: probably the word is corrupted. 110 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. along with 'them, marched to the Alps,* to seek that country which produced such excellent fruit, and. in comparison of which, they considered all others as barren and ungenial. The man that first carried wine among them, and excited them to invade Italy, is said to have been Aruns, a Tuscan, a man of some distinc- tion, and not naturally disposed to mischief, but led to it by his misfortunes. He was guardian to an orphan named Lucumo,f of the greatest for- tune of the country, and most celebrated for beauty. Aruns brought him up from a boy, and when grown up, he still continued at his house, upon a pretense of enjoying his conversation. Meanwhile he had corrupted his guardian's wife, or she had corrupted him, and for a long time the criminal commerce was carried on undiscovered. At length their passion becoming so violent, that they could neither restrain nor conceal it, the young man carried her off, aud attempted to keep her openly. The husband endeavored to find his redress at law, but was disappointed by the supe rior interest and wealth of Lucurno. He there fore quitted his own country, and having heard of the enterprising spirit of the Gauls, went to them, and conducted their armies into Italy. In their first expedition they soon possessed themselves of that country which stretches out from the Alps to both seas. Tiiat this of old be- longed to the Tuscans, the names themselves are a proof: for the sea which lies to the north is called the Adriatic from a Tuscan city named Adria, and that on the other side to the south is called the Tuscan sea. All that country is well planted with trees, has excellent pastures, and is well watered with rivers. It contained eighteen considerable cities, whose manufactures and trade procure them the gratifications of luxury. The Gauls expelled the Tuscans, and made themselves masters of these cities; but this was done .ong Defore. The Gauls were now besieging Clusium, a city of Tuscany. The Clusians applied to the Romans, entreating them to send ambassadors and letters to the barbarians. Accordingly they sent three illustrious persons of the Fabian family, who had borne the highest employments in the state. The Gauls received them courteously on account of the name of Rome, and putting a stop to their operations against the town, came to a conference. But when they were asked what injury they had received from the Clusians, that they came against their city, Brennus, king of the Gauls, smiled and said, "The injury the Clusians do us, is their keeping to themselves a large tract of ground, when they can only cultivate a small one, and refusing to give up a part of it to us who are strangers, numerous, and poor. In the same manner you Romans were injured formerly by the Albans, the Fidenates, and the Ardeates, and lately by the people of Veil and Capenoe, and the gredfest part of the Falisci and the Volsci. Upon these you make war; if they refuse to share with you their goods, you enslave their persons, lay waste their country, and demolish their cities. Livy tells us, Italy was known to the Gauls two hun- dred years before, though he does not indeed rnention the gtory of Aruns. Then he goes on to inform us, that the migrations of the Gauls into Italy and other countries, was occasioned by their numbers being too large for their old settlements; and that the two brothers Beliovesus and Si- govesus casting lots to determine which way they should steer their course, Italy fell to Beliovesus and Germany to Eigovesus. t iMcumo was not the name, but the title of the youn" man. He was Lord of a Lucumony \ Hetruria was d Tided into principalities called Lucumonits. Nor are your proceedings dishonorable or unjust; for you follow the most ancient of laws, which directs the weak to obey the strong, from the Creator even to the irrational part of the creation, that are taught by nature to make use of the ad- vantage their strength affords them against the feeble. Cease then to express your compassion for the Clusians, lest you teach the Gauls in theii turn to commiserate those that have been op- pressed by the Romans." By this answer the Romans clearly perceived that Brennus would come to no terms; and there- fore they went into Clusium, where they encour- aged and animated the inhabitants to a sally against the barbarians, either to make trial of the strength of the Clusians, or to show their own The Clusians made the sally, and a sharp conflict en- sued near the walls, when Qtiintus Ambustus, one of the Fabii, spurred his horse against a Gaul of extraordinary size and figure, who had advanced a good way before the ranks. At first he was not known, because the encounter was hot, and his armor dazzled the eyes of the beholders ; but when he had overcome and killed the Gaul, and came to despoil him of his arms, Brennus knew him, and called the gods to witness, " That against all the laws and usages of mankind which wore esteemed the most sacred and inviolable, Ambustus came as an ambassador, but acted as an enemy." He drew off his men directly, and bidding the Clusians farewell, led his army toward Rome. But that he might not seem to rejoice that such an affront was offered, or to have want- ed a pretext for hostilities, he sent to demand the offender in order to punish him, and in the mean- time advanced but slowly. The herald being arrived, the senate was as- sembled, and many spoke against the Fabii, par- ticularly Hi* priests called /ec/aZes. represented thfl action as an offense against religion, and adjured the senate to lay the whole guilt and the expia- tion of it upon the person who alone was to blame, and so to avert the wrath of Heaven from the rest of the Romans. These feciales were ap- pointed by Numa, the mildest and justest of kings, conservators of peace, as well as judges to give sanction to the just causes of war. The senate referred the matter to the people, and the priests accused Fabius with the same ardor before them, but such was the disregard they expressed for their persons, and such their contempt of religion, that they constituted that very Fabius and his brethren military tribunes.* As soon ns the Gauls were informed of this, they were greatly enraged, and would no longer delay their march, hut hastened forward with the utmost celerity. Their prodigious numbers, their glittering arms, their fury and impetuosity, struck terror wherever they came ; the people gave up their lands for lost, not doubting but the cities would soon follow : however, what was beyond all exp"ctation, they injured no man's property: they neither pillaged the fields, nor insulted the cities ; and as they passed by, they cried out, " They were going to Rome, they were at war with the Romans only, and considered all others as their friends." While the barbarians were going forward in this impetuous manner, the tribunes led out their forces to battle, in number not inferior)- (for they * The year of Rome 366; or (according to some Chrono- logers) 365. t They were inferior in number, for the Gauls were sev- enty thousand; and therefore the Romans, when they came to action, were obliged to extend their wings *o as to make their center very thin, which was one reason of their soon being broken. CAMILLAS. Ill consisted of forty thousand foot), bul the greatest part undisciplined, and such as had never handled a weapon before. Beside, they paid no attention to religion, having neither propitiated the gods by sacrifice, nor consulted the soothsayers, as was their duty i:i time of danger, and before an en- gagement. Another thing which occasioned no small confusion, was the number of persons joined in the command ; whereas before, they had appointed for wars of less consideration a single leader, whom they call dictator, sensible of how great consequence it is to gooJ order and success, at a dangerous crisis, to be actuated as it were with one soul, and to have the absolute com- mand invested in one person. Their ungrateful treatment of Camillus, too, was not the least un- happy circumstance; as it now appeared danger- ous for the generals to use their authority without some flattering indulgence to the people. In this condition they marched out of the city, and encamped about eleven miles from it, on the banks of the river Allia, not far from its conflu- ence with the Tiber. There the barbarians came upon them, and as the Romans engaged in a dis- orderly manner, they were shamefully beaten and put to flight. Their left wing was soon pushed into the river, and there destroyed. The right wing, which quitted the field to avoid the charge, and gained the hills, did not suffer so much; many of them escaping to Rome. The rest that survived the carnage, when the enemy were sati- ated with blood, stole by night to Veii, conclud- ing that Rome was lost, and its inhabitants put to the sword. This battle was fought when the moon was at full, about the summer solstice, the very same day that the slaughter of the Fabii happened long before,* when three hundred of them were cut off by the Tuscans. The second misfortune, how- ever, so much effaced the memory of the first, that the day is still called the day of Allia, from the river of that name. As to the point, whether there be any lucky or unlucky days,f and whether Heraclitus was right in blaming Hesiod for distinguishing them into fortunate and unfortunate, as not knowing that the nature of all days is the same, we have con- sidered it in another place. But on this occasion perhaps it may not be amiss to mention a few ex- amples. The Boeotians, on the fifth of the month which they calU-d Hippodromius and the Athe- nians Hecatomb&on (July) gained two signal vic- tories, both of which restored liberty to Greece; the one at Leuctra; the other at GerEestus, above two hundred years before,} whn they defeated Lattamyas and the Thessalians. On the other hand, the Persians were beaten by the Greeks on the sixth of Boedromwn (September) at M irathon, on the third at Plata^i, as also Mycale, and on the twenty-sixth at Arbeli. About the full moon of the same month, the Athenians, under the conduct of Chabcias, were victorious in the sea- The sixteenth of July. t The ancients deemed some days lucky and others un- , either from some occult power which they supposed to he in numbers, or from the nature of the deities who presided over them, or else from observation of fortunate or unfortunate events having often happened on particular days. J The Thessalians under the command of Lattamyas were beaten by the Bceotians not long before the battle of Thermopylas, and little more than one hundred years before the battle of Leuctra. There is also an error here in the name of the place, probably introduced by some blundering transcriber, (for Plntarch must have been well acquainted with the names of places in Boeotia). Instead of Gersestus, we should read Ceressus; the former was a promontory in ' i, the latter was a fort it Boeotia. fight near Naxos, and on the twentieth fhey gained the victory of Salamis, as we have mentioned in the treatise concerning days. The month Thar- gelion (May) was also remarkably unfortunate to the barbarians: for in that month Alexander de- feated the king of Persia's generals near the Granicus; and the Carthaginians were beaten by Timoleon in Sicily on the twenty-fourth of the same; a day still more remarkable (according to Ephorus, Callisthenes, Demaster, and Phylarchus) for the taking of Troy. On the contrary, the month Melayitnion (August) which the Boeotians call Panamas, was very unlucky to the Greeks; for on the seventh they were beaten by Antijwiter in the battle of Crannon and utterly ruined, and before that, they were defeated by Philip at Chaeronea. And on that same day, month, and year, the troops which under Archidamus made a descent upon Italy, were cut to pieces by the barbarians. The Carthaginians have set a mark upon the twenty-second of that month, as a day that has always brought upon them the greatest calamities. At the same time I am not ignorant that about the time of the celebration of the mys- teries, Thebes was demolished by Alexander; and after that, on the same twentieth of Boedromwn (September) a day sacred to the solemnities of Bacchus, the Athenians were obliged to receive a Macedonian garrison. On, one and the same day, the Romans, under tha command of Csepio, were stripped of their camp by the Cimbri, and after- ward under Lucullus conquered Tigranes and the Armenians. King Attains and Pompey the Great, both died on their birth days. And I could give account of many others who on the same day at different periods have experienced both good and bad fortune. Be that as it may, the Romans marked the day of their defeat at Allia as unfor- tunate ; and as superstitious fears generally in- crease upon a misfortune, they not only distin- guished that as such, but the two next that follow it iu every month throughout the year. If, after so decisive a battle, the Gauls had im- mediately pursued the fugitives, there would have been nothing to hinder the entire destruction of Rome and all that remained in it; with such terror was the city struck at the return of those that escaped from the battle, and so filled with confu- sion and distraction! But the Gauls, not imagin- ing the victory to be so great as it was, in the excess of their joy indulged themselves in good cheer, and shared the plunder of the camp; by which means numbers that were for leaving the city had leisure to escape, and those that remained had time to recollect themselves and prepare for their defense. For, quitting the rest of the city, they retired to the Capitol, which they fortified with strong ramparts and provided well with arms. But their first care was of their holy things, most of which they conveyed into the Capitol. As for the sacred fire, the vestal virgins took it up, to- gether with other holy relics, and fled away with it: though some will have it, that they have not the charge of anything but that eiier-living fire which Numa appointed to be worshiped as the principle of all things. It is indeed the most active thing in nature; and all generation either is motion, or, at least, with motion. Other parts of matter, when the heat fails, lie sluggish and dead, and crave the force of fire as an informing soul; and when that comes, they acquire some active or passive quality. Hence it was that Nu- ma, a man curious in his researches into nature, and on account of his wisdom supposed to ha\e conversed with the muses, consecrated this fire, and ordered it to be perpetually kept up, as an 112 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. image of that eternal power which preserves and actuates the universe. Others say, that according to the USIIPC of the Greeks, the fire is kept ever burning before the holy places, as an emblem of purity ; but that there are other things in the most secret part of the temple, kept from the sight of all but those virgins whom they call ves- tals; and the most current opinion is, that the ;aLladium of Troy, which ^Eneas brought into taly, is laid up there. Others say, the Samothracian gods are there concealed, whom Dardanus,* after he had built Troy, brought to that city and caused to be wor- shiped; and that after the taking of Troy, yEneas privately carried them off, and kept them until he settled in Italy. But those that pretend to know most about these matters, say, there are placed there two casks of a moderate size, the one open and empty, the other full and sealed up, but neither of them to be seen by any but those holy virgins. Others, again, think this is all a mistake, which arose from their putting most of their sacred utensils in two casks, and hiding them under ground in the temple of Quirinus, and that the place, from those casks, is still called Doliolo. They took, however, with them, the choicest and most sacred things they had, and fled with them along the side of the river; where Lucius Albinus, a plebeian, among others that were mak- ing their escape, was carrying his wife and children and some of his most necessary mova- bles in a wagon. But when he saw the vestals in a helpless and weary condition, carrying in their arms the sacred symbols of the gods, he immedi- ately took out his family and goods, and put the virgins in the wagon, that they might make their escape to some of the Grecian cities.f This piety of Albinus, and the veneration he expressed for the gods at so dangerous a juncture, deserves to be recorded. As for the other priests, and the most ancient of the senators that were of consular dignity, or had been honored with triumphs, they could not bear to think of quitting the city. They, there- fore, put on their holy vestments and robes of state, and, in a form dictated by Fabius, the ponti- fex maximus, making their vows to the gods, de- voted themselves for their country: thus attired, they sat down in their ivory chairs in the forum, prepared for the worst extremity. The third day after the battle, Brennua arrived with his army; and finding the gates of the city opened, and the whole destitute of guards, at first he had some apprehensions of a stratagem or am- buscade, for he could not think the Romans had so * Dardanns, who flourished in the time of Mo>e?, about the year before Christ ] 481), is said to have been originally of Arcadia, from whence he passed to Samothrace. After- ward he married Batea or Arista, the daughter of Teucer, king of Phrygia. Of the Siimothracian gods we have al- ready given an account; but may add here, from Macrobius, that tlte dii magni, which Dardanus brought from Sarno- llirace, were the penate.i, or household gods, hich ^Eneas afterward carried into Italy. Dionysus of Halicarnassus say*, he had seen the penults in an old temple at Home. They \\ereofantique workmanship, representing two young men sitting, and holding each a lance in his hand, and had for their inscription Dena.-t, instead of Pcnas. t Albinus conducted them to Csere, a city of Hetruria, where they met with a favorable reception. The vestals remained f. considerable time at Ca;re, and there performed the usn:l rites of religion; and hence those rights were called Ceremonies. t The Romans believed, that, by these voluntary conse- crations to the infernal gods, disorder and confusion were brought among the enemy. } These ivory, or eurulc chairs were used only by those who had borne the most honorable offices, and the persons who bad a right to sit in them bore also ivory staves. entirely given themselves up to despair. But when he found it to be so in reality, he entered by :he Colline gate, and took Rome, a little more .ban three hundred and sixty years after its foun- lation; if it is likely that any exact account has jeen kept of those times,* the confusion of which las occasioned so much obscurity in things of a ater date. Some uncertain ru-mors, however, of Rome's >eing taken, appear to have soon passed into Greece. For Heraclides of Pontus.f who lived ,iot long after these times, in his treatise concern- ing the soul, relates that an account was brought 'rorn the west, that an army from the country of :he Hyperboreans}: had taken a Greek city called Home, situated somewhere near the Great Sea. But I do not wonder that such a fabulous writer as Heraclides should embellish his account of the taking of Rome with the pompous terms of Hyperboreans and the Great Sea. It is very clear that Aristotle the philosopher had heard that Rome was taken by the Gauls; but he calls its deliverer Lucius ; whereas Camillus was not called Lucius but Marcus. These authors had HO better authority than common report. Brennus, thus in possession of Rome, set a strong guard about the Capitol, and himself went down into the forum', where he was struck with amazement at the sight of so many men seated in great state and silence, who neither rose up at the approach of their enemies, nor changed coun- tenance or color, but leaned upon their staves, and sat looking upon each other without fear or concern. The Gauls astonished at so surprising a spectacle, and regarding them as superior beings, for a long time were afraid to approach or touch them. At 1-ast one of them ventured to go near Manius Papirius, and advancing his hand, gently stroked his beard, which was very long: upon which, Papirius struck him on the head with his staff, and wounded him. The barbarian then drew his sword and killed him. After this, the Gauls fell upon the rest and slew them, and con- tinuing their rage, dispatched all that came in their way. Then for many days together they pillaged the houses and carried off the spoil; at last they set fire to the city, and demolished what escaped the flames, to express their indignation against those in the Capitol, who obeyed not their summons, but made a vigorous defense, and great- ly annoyed the besiegers from the walls. This it was that provoked them to destroy the whole city, and to dispatch all that fell into their hands, with- out sparing either sex or age. As by the length of the siege provisions began to fail the Gauls, they divided their forces, and part stayed with the king before that fortress, while part foraged the country, and laid waste tho towns and villages. Their success had inspired them with such confidence, that they did not keep in a body, but carelessly wandered about in dif- ferent troops and parties. It happened that tlte largest and best disciplined corps went against * Livy tells us, that the Romans of those times did not much apply themselves to writing, and that the commenta* ries of the pontijices, and their other monuments, both pub- lic and private, were destroyed when the city was burned by the Gauls. t He lived at that very time: for he was at first Plato's scholar, and afterward Aristotle's; and Plato was but forty- one years old when Rome was taken J The ancients called all the inhabitants of the north, Hyperboreans, and the Mediterranean, the Great Sea, to distinguish it from the Enxine. Notwithstanding that, He- raclides was right, in this; he might be a very fabulous writer! so was Herodotus; and so were the ancient historians of almost all countries: and the reason is obvious; they bad little more than tradition to write from. CAMILLUS. 113 Ardea, where Camillus, since his exile, lived in absolute retirement. This great event, however, awakened him into action, and his mind was em- ployed in contriving, not how to keep himself concealed and to avoid the Gauls, but, if an op- portunity should offer, to attack and conquer them. Perceiving that the Ardeans were not de- ficient in numbers, but in courage and discipline, which was owing to the inexperience and inacti- vity of their officers, he applied first to the young men, and told them, " They ought not to ascribe the defeat of the Romans to the valor of the Gauls, or to consider the calamities they had suffered in the midst of their infatuation, as brought upon them by men who, in fact, could not claim the merit of the victory, but as the work of fortune. That it would be glorious, though they risked something by it, to repel a foreign and barbarous enemy, whose end in conquering was, like fire, to destroy what they subdued : but that if they would assume a proper spirit, he would give them an opportunity to conquer without any hazard at all." When he found the young men were pleased with his discourse, he went next to the magistrates and senate of Ardea; and having per- suaded them also to adopt his scheme, he armed all that were of a proper age for it, and drew them up within the walls, that the enemy who were but at a small distance,might not know what he was about. The Gauls having scoured the country, and loaded themselves with plunder, encamped upon the plains in a careless and disorderly manner. Night found them intoxicated with wine, and silence reigned in the camp. As soon as Camil- lus was informed of this by his spies, he led the Ardeans out; and having passed the intermediate space without noise, he reached their camp about midnight. Then he ordered a loud shout to be set up, and the trumpets to sound on all sides, f;o cause the greater confusion: but it was with dif- ficulty they recovered themselves from their sleep and intoxication. A few, whom fear had made sober, snatched up their arms to oppose Carnillus, and fell with their weapons in their hands: but the greatest part of them, buried in sleep and wine, were surprised unarmed, and easily dis- patched. A small number, that in the night es- caped out of the camp, and wandered in the fields, were picked up next day by the cavalry, and put to the sword. The fame of this action, soon reaching the neighboring cities, drew out many of their ablest warriors. Particularly such of the Romans as had escaped from the battle of Allia to Veii, la- mented with themselves in some such manner as this, "What a general has Heaven taken from Rome in Camillus, to adorn the Ardeans with his exploits! while the city which produced and brought up so great a man is absolutely ruined. And we, for want of a leader, sit idle within the walls of a strange city, and betray the liberties of Italy. Come, then, let us send to the Ardeans to demand our general, or else take our weapons and go to him: for he is no longer an exile, nor we citizens, having no country but what is in pos- i session of an enemy." This motion was agreed to, and they sent to Camillus to entreat him to accept of the com- mand. But he answered, he could not do it, be- fore he was legally appointed to it, by the Romans in the Capitol. For he looked upon them, while they were in being as the commonwealth, and would readily obey their orders, but without them would not be so officious as to interpose.* * Livy says, the Roman soldiers at Veii applied to the "wnain* of the senate in the Capitol for leave, before they 8 They admired the modesty and honor of Camil lus, but knew not how to send the proposal to the Capitol. It seemed indeed impossible for a mes- senger to pass into the citadel, while the enemy were in possession of the city. However, a young man, named Pontius Corninius, not distinguished by his birth, but fond of glory, readily took upon him the commission. He carried no letters to the citizens in the Capitol, lest, if he should happen to be taken, the enemy should discover by them the intentions of Camillus. Hnving dressed him- self in mean attire, under which he concealed some pieces of cork, he traveled all day without fear, and approached the city as it grew dark. He could not pass the river by the bridge, because it was guarded by the Gauls; and, therefore, took his clothes, which were neither many nor heavy, and bound them about his head; and having laid himself upon the pieces of cork, easily swam over and reached the city. Then avoiding those quar- ters where, by the lights and noise, he concluded they kept watch, he went to the Garmented gate, where there was the greatest silence, and when* the hill of the Capitol is the steepest and most craggy. Up this he got unperceived, by a way the most difficult and dreadful, and advanced near the guards upon the walls. After he had hailed them and told them his name, they received him with joy, and conducted him to the magistrates. The senate was presently assembled, and he ac- quainted them with the victory of Camillus, which they had not heard of before, as well as with the proceedings of the soldiers at Veii, and exhorted them to confirm Camillus in the command, as the citizens out of Rome would obey none but him Having heard his report and consulted together, they declared Camillus dictator, and sent Pontius back the same way he came, who was equally fortunate in his return; for he passed by the ene- my undiscovered, and delivered to the Romans at Veii the decree of the senate, which they received with pleasure. Camillus, at his arrival, found twenty thousand of them in arms, to whom he added a greater number of the allies, and prepared to attack tl> enemy. Thus was he appointed dictator the se- cond time, and having put himself at the head of the Romans and confederates, he marched out against the Gauls. Meantime, some of the barbarians, employed in the siege, happening to pass by the place where Pontius had made his way by night up to the Ca- pitol, observed many traces of his feet and hands, as he had worked himself up the rock, torn off what grew there, and tumbled down the mold. Of this they informed the king; who coming and viewing it, for the present said nothing; but in the evening he assembled the lightest and most active of his men, who were the likeliest to climb any difficult hight, and thus addressed then>: " The enemy have themselves shown us a way to reach them, which we were ignorant of, and have proved that this rock is neither inaccessible nor untrodden by human feet. What a shame would it be then, after having made a beginning, not to finish; and to quit the place as impregnable. when the Romans themselves have taught us how to take it! Where it was easy for one man to an- cend, it cannot be difficult for many, one by one; nay, should many attempt it together, they will find great advantage in assisting each other. In the meantime, I intend great rewards and honors offered the command to Camillus. So much regard hat those brave men for the constitution of their country, though Rome then lay in ashes. Every private man was indeed* patriot. 114 PLUTARC H'S LIVES. for such as shall distinguish themselves on this occasion." The Gauls readily embraced the king's propo- sal, and about midnight a number of -them toge- ther, began to climb the rock in silence, which, though steep and craggy, proved more practicable than they expected. The foremost, having gain- ed the top, put themselves in order, and were ready to take possession of the wall, and to fall upon the guards, who were fast asleep; for neither man nor aog perceived their coming. However, there were certain sacred geese kept near Juno's temple,* and at other times plentifully fed; but at this time, as corn and the other provisions that remained were scarce sufficient for the men, they were neglected and in poor condition. This ani- mal is naturally quick of hearing, and soon al- armed at any noise; and as hunger kept them waking and uneasy, they immediately perceived the coming of the Gauls, and running at them with all the noise they could make, they awoke all the guards. The barbarians now, perceiving they were discovered, advanced with loud shouts and great fury. The Romans in haste snatched up such weapons as came to hand, and acquitted themselves like men on this sudden emergency. First of all, Manlius, a man of consular dignity, remarkable for his strength and extraordinary courage, engaged two Gauls at once; and as one of them was lifting up his battle-axe, with his sword cut off his right hand: nt the same time he thrust the boss of his shield n the face of the other, and dashed him down th* precipice. Thus, standing upon the rampart, with those that had come to his assistance, and fought by his side, he drove back the rest of the Gauls that had got up, who were no gteat number, and who per- formed no-thing worthy of such an attempt. The Romans having thus escaped the danger that threatened them, as soon as it was light, threw the officer that commanded the watch down the rock among the enemy, and decreed Manlius a reward for his victory, which had more of honor n it than profit; for every man gave him what he had for one day's allowance, which was half a pound of bread and a quartern of the Greek cotyle. After this, the Gauls began to lose courage: For provisions were scarce, and they could not forage, for fear of Carnillus.f Sickness, too, pre- vailed among them, which took its rise from the heaps of oead bodies, and from their encamping amidst the rubbish of the houses they had burned; where there was such a quantity of ashes, as, when raised by the winds, or heat.d by the sun, by their dry and acrid quality so corrupted the air, that every breath of it was pernicious. But what affected them most was, the change of cli- mate; for they had lived in countries that abound- ed with shades, and agreeable shelters from the heat, and were now got into grounds that were low and unhealthy in autumn. All this, together with the length and tediousness of the siege, which had now lasted more than six months, caused such desolation among them, and carried off such numbers, that the carcasses lay unburied. The besieged, however, were not in a much better condition. Famine, which now pressed * Geese were ever after had in honor at Rome, and a flock of them always kept at the expense of the public. A golden image of a goose was erected in memory of them, and a goose every year carried in triumph upon a soft litter, finely adorned; while dogs were held in abhorrence by the Romans, who every year impaled one of them upon a brancn of alder. I'lin. ~Sf Pint, dc Fortvna Rom. t Camillus being master of the country, posted strong gtuirds on all the roads, and in effect besieged the besiegers. them hard, and their ignorance of what Camillus was doing, caused no small dejection: for the bar- barians guarded the city with so much care, that it was impossible to send any messenger to him. Both sides being thus equally discouraged, the advanced guards, who were near enough to con- verse, first began to talk of treating. As the motion was approved by those that had the chief direction of affairs, Sulpitius, one of the military tribunes, went and conferred with Brennus; where it was agreed that the Romans should pay a thou- sand pounds weight of gold,* and that the Gauls upon the receipt of it, should immediately quit the city and its territories. When the conditions were sworn to, and the gold was brought, the Gauls endeavoring to avail themselves of false weights privately at first, and afterward openly, drew down their own side of the balance. The Romans expressing their resentment, Brennus, in a contemptuous and insulting mannei, took off his sword, and threw it, belt and all, into the scale: And when Sulpitius asked what that meant, he answered, "What should it mean but woe to the conquered:" which became a proverbial say- ing. Some of the Romans were highly incensed at this, and talked of returning with their gold, and enduring the utmost extremities of the siege; but others were of opinion, that it was better to pass by a small injury, since the indignity lay not in paying more than was due, but in paying any- thing at all; a disgrace only consequent upon the necessity of the times. WhUe they were thus disputing with the Gauls, Camillus arrived at the gates; and being informed, of what had passed, ordered the main body of his army to advance slowly and in good order, while he with a select band marched hastily up to the Romans, who all gave place, and received the dic- tator witli respect and silence. Then he took lh gold out of the scales and gave it to the lictors, and ordered the Gauls to take away the balance and the weights, and to be gone; telling them, it was the custom of the Romans, to deliver their coun- try with steel, not with gold. And when Brenmu expressed his indignation, and complained he had great injustice done him by this infraction of the treaty, Camillus answered, "That it was never lawfully made: nor could it be valid without his consent, who was dictator and sole magistrate; they had, therefore, acted without proper author- ity: but they might make their proposals now he was come, whom the laws had invested with power either to pardon the suppliant or to punish the guilty, if proper satisfaction was not made." At this, Brennus was still more highly incensed, and a skirmish ensued; swords were drawn on both sides, and thrusts exchanged in a confused manner, which it is easy to conceive must be the case, amidst the ruins of houses and in narrow streets, where there was not room to draw up regularly. Brennus, however, soon recollected himself, and drew off his forces into the camp, with the loss of a small number. In the night, he ordered them to march, and quit the city; and having retreated about eight miles from it, he en- camped upon the Gabian road. Early in the morning Camillus came up with them, his arms dazzling the sight, and his men full of spirits and fire. A sharp engagement ensued, which lasted a long time: at length the Gauls were routed with great slaughter, and their camp taken. Some of those that fled were killed in the pursuit, but the greater part were cut in pieces by the people in That is, forty-five thousand pounds sterling. CAMILLUS. 115 the neighboring towns and villages, who fell upon them as they ^vere dispersed.* Thus was Rome strangely taken, and more ktrangely recovered, after it had been seven months In the possession of the barbarians; for they enter- ed it a little after the Ides, the fifteenth of July, and were driven out about the Ides, the thirteenth of February following. Camillas returned in triumph, as became the deliverer of his lost country, and the restorer of Rome. Those that had quitted the place before the siege, with their wives and children, now followed his chariot; and they that had been besieged in the Capitol, and were almost perishing with hunger, met the others and em- braced them, weeping for joy at this unexpected pleasure, which they almost considered as a dream. The priests and ministers of the gods bringing back with them what holy things they had hid or conveyed av/ay when they fled, afforded a most desirable spectacle to the people; and they gave them the kindest welcome, as if the gods them- selves had returned with them to Rome. Next, Camillus sacrificed to the gods, and purified the city, in, a form dictated by the pontiffs. He re- built the former temples, and erected *a new one to Aius Loquutius, the speaker, or warner, upon the very spot where the voice from heaven an- nounced in the night to Marcus Ceditius the com- ing of the barbarians. There was, indeed, no small difficulty in discovering the places where the temples had stood, but it was effected by the zeal of Camillus, and the industry of the priests. As it was necessary to rebuild the city which was entirely demolished, a heartless despondency seized the multitude, and they invented pretexts of delay. They were in want of all necessary materials, and had more occasion for repose and refreshment after their sufferings, than to labor and wear themselves out, when their bodies were weak, and their substance was gone. They had, therefore, a secret attachment to Veii, a city which remained entire, and was provided with every- thing. This gave a handle to their demagogues to harangue them, as usual, in a way agreeable to their inclinations, and made them listen to sedi- tious speeches against Camillus: " As if, to gratify his ambition and thirst of glory, he would deprive them of a city fit to receive them, force them to pitch their tents among rubbish, and rebuild a rnin that was like one great funeral pile: in order that he might not only be called the general and dictator of Rome, hut the founder too, instead of Romulus, whose right he invaded." On this account, the senate, afraid of an insur- rection, would not let Camillus lay down the dic- tatorship within the year, as he desired, though no other person had ever borne that high office more than six months. In the meantime, they went about to console the people, to gain them by caresses and kind persuasions. One while they ehowed them the monuments and tombs of their ancestors; then they put them in mind of their temples and holy places, which Romulus and Nurna, and the other kings, had consecrated and left in charge with them. Above all, amidst the sacred and awful symbols, they took care to make them recollect the fresh human head,f which was * There is reason to question the truth of the latter part oi this story. Plutarch copied it from Livy. Bnt Polybius ruprosents the Gauls as actually receiving the gold from the Romans, and returning in safety to their own country; and this is confirmed by Justin, Suetonius, and even by Livy himself, in another part of his history, x. 16. t This prodigy happened in the reign of Tarcrain the proud, who undoubtedly must have put the head there on purpose; for, in digging the foundation, it was found warm and bleeding, as ii just severed from the body. Upon this, found when the foundations of the Capitol were dug, and which presignified that the same place was destined to be the head of Italy. They urged the disgract) it would be to extinguish again the sacred fire, which the vestals had lighted since the war, and to quit the city; whether they were to see it inhabited by strangers, or a desolate wild for flocks to feed in. In this moving manner the patricians remonstrated to the people both in public and private: and were in their turn much affected by the distress of the multitude, who lamented their present indigence, and begged of them, now they were collected like the remains of a shipwreck, not to oblige them to patch up the ruins of a desolated city, when there was one en- tire and ready to receive them. Camillus, therefore, thought proper to take the judgment of the senate in a body. And when he had exerted his eloquence in favor of his native country, and others had done the same, he put it to the vote, beginning with Lucius Lucretius, whose right it was to vote first, and who was to be followed by the rest in their order. Silence was made; and as Lucretius was about to declare himself, it happened that a centurion, who then commanded the day-guard, as he passed the house, called with a loud voice to the ensign, to stop, and set up his standard there, for that was the best place to stay in. These words being so seasonably uttered, at a time when they were doubtful and anxious about the event, Lucretius gave thanks to the gods, and embraced the omen, while the rest gladly assented. A wonderful change, at the same time, took place in the minds of the people, who exhorted and encouraged each other in the work, and they began to build immediately, not in any order or upon a regular plan, but as incli- nation or convenience directed. By reason of this hurry the streets were narrow and intricate, and the houses badly laid out; for they tell us both the walls of the city and the streets were buiit within the compass of a year. The persons appointed by Camillus to search for and mark out the holy places, found all in confusion. As they were looking round the Palatium, they came to the court of Mars, where the buildings, like the rest, were burned and de- molished by the barbarians; but in removing the rubbish and cleaning the place, they discovered under a great heap of ashes, the augural staff of Romulus. This staff is crooked at one end, and called lituus. It is used in marking out the seve- ral quarters of the heavens, in any process of divination by the flight of birds, which Romulus was much skilled in and made great use of. When he was taken out of the world, the priests carefully preserved the staff from defilement, like other holy relics: and this having escaped the fire, when the rest were consumed, they indulged a pleasing hope, and considered it as a presage, that Rome would last for ever.* Before they had finished the laborious task of the Romans sent to consult the Tuscan soothsayers, who, after vainly endeavoring to bring the presage to favor their own country, acknowledged that the place where that head was found would be the head of all Italy. Dionys. Hal. lib. iv. * About this time, the tribunes of the people determined to impeach Q. Fabins, who had violated the law of nations, and thereby provoked the Gauls, and occasioned the burn- ing of Rome. His crime being notorious, he was sum- moned by C. Martius Rutilus before the assembly of the people, to answer for his conduct in the embassy. The criminal had reason to fear the severest punishment; but his relations gave out that he died suddenly; which gener- ally happened when the accused person had courage enough to prevent his condemnation, and the shame of a publi punishment. 116 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. building, a new war broke out. The ^Equt, tho Volsci, and the Latins, all at once invaded their territories, and the Tuscans laid siege to Sutriurn, a city in alliance with Rome. The military tri- bunes, too, who commanded the army, being sur- rounded by the Latins near Mount Marcius, and their camp in great danger, sent to Rome to de- sire succors; on which occasion Camiilua was appointed dictator the third time. Of tiiis war there are two different accounts: I begin with the fabulous one. It is said, the La- tins either seeking a pretense for war, or really inclined to renew their ancient affinity with the Romans, sent to demand of them a number of free-born virgins in marriage. The Romans were in no small perplexity as to the course they should take. For, on the one hand, they were afraid of war, as they were not yet re-established, nor had recovered their losses; and on the other, they sus- pected that the Latins only wanted their daughters for hostages, though they colored their design with the specious name of marriage. While they were thus embarrassed, a female slave, named Tutula,* or, as some call her, Philotis, advised the magistrates to send with her some of the hand- somest and most genteel of the maid-servants, dressed like virgins of good families, and leave the rest to her. The magistrates approving the expedient, chose a number of female slaves proper for her purpose, and sent them richly attired to the Latin camp, which was not far from the city. At night, while the other slaves conveyed away the enemies' swords, Tutula or Philotis got up into a wild fig-tree of considerable night, and having spread a thick garment behind, to conceal her design from the Latins, held up a torch toward Rome, which was the signal agreed upon between her and the magistrates, who alone were in the secret. For this reason the soldiers sallied out in a tumultuous manner, calling upon each other, and hastened by their officers, who found it diffi- cult to bring them into any order. They made themselves masters, however, of the intrench- ments, and as the enemy, expecting no such at- tempt, were asleep, they took the camp, and put the greatest part of them to the sword. This hap- pened on the Nones, the seventh of July, then called Quintttis. And on that day they celebrate a feast in memory of this action. In the first place, they sally in a crowding and disorderly manner out of the city, pronouncing aloud the most familiar and common names, as Caius, Mar- cus, Lucius, and the like; by which they imitate the soldiers then calling upon each other in their hurry. Next, the maid-servants walk about, ele- gantly dressed, and jesting ou all they meet. They have also a kind of fight among themselves, to express the assistance they gave in the engage- ment with the Latins. Then they sit down to an entertainment, shaded with branches of the fig- tree: and that day is called Nonce Capratince, as some suppose, on account of the wild fig-tree, from which the maid-servant held out the torch; for the Romans call that tree caprificus. Others refer the greatest part of what is said and done on that occasion to that part of the story of Romulus when he disappeared, and the darkness and tem- pest, or, as some imagine, an eclipse happened. It was on the same day, at least, and the day might be called Nona Capratina; for the Romans call a <joat Capra; and Romulus vanished out of sight while he was holding an assembly of the people at the Goat's Marsh,ss we have related in his life. In the life of Romulus sh U called Tutola. Macrobins Us her Tutela. The other account that is given rf this war, and approved by most historians, is as follows, Camilla* being appointed dictator the third time, and knowing that the army under the military tribunes was surrounded by the Latins and Vol- scians, was constrained to make levies among such as age had exempted from service. With these he fetched a large compass about Mount Marcius, and unperceived by the enemy, posted his army behind them; and by lighting many fires signified his arrival. The Romans that were besieged in their camp, being encouraged by this, resolved to sally out and join battle. But the Latins and Volscians kept close within their works, drawing a line of circumvallation with palisades, because they had the enemy on both sides, and resolving to wait for reinforcements from home, as well as for the Tuscan succors. Carnillus, perceiving this, and fearing that the enemy might surround him, as he had surrounded them, hastened to make use of the present oppor- tunity. As the works of the confederates con- sisted of wood, and the wind used to blow hard from the mountains at sun rising, he provided a great quantity of combustible matter, and drew out his forces at day break. Part of them he ordered with loud shouts and missive weapons to begin the attack on the opposite side; while he himself, at the head of those that were charged with the fire, watched the proper minute, on that side of the works where the wind used to blow directly. When the sun was risen the wind blew violently ; and the attack being begun on the other side, he gave the signal to his own party, who poured a vast quantity of fiery darts and other burning matter into the enemy's fortifica- tions. As the flame soon caught hold, and was fed by the palisades and other timber, it spread itself into all quarters; and the Latins not being provided with any means of extinguishing it, the camp was almost full of fire, and they were re- duced to a small spot of ground. At last they were forced to bear down upon that body who were posted before the camp and ready to receive them sword in hand. Consequently very few of them escaped ; and those that remained in the camp were destroyed by the flames, until the Romans extinguished them for the sake of the plunder. After this exploit, he left his son Lucius in the camp to guard the prisoners and the booty, while he himself penetrated into the enemy's country. There he took the city of the ^Equi and reduced the Volsci, and then led his army to Sutrium, whose fate he was not yet apprised of, and which he hoped to relieve by fighting the Tuscans who had sat down before it. But the Sutrians had al- ready surrendered their town, with the loss of everything but the clothes they had on: and in this condition he met them by the way, with their wives and children, bewailing their misfor- tunes. Camillus was extremely moved at so sad a spectacle; and perceiving that the Romans wept with pity at the affecting entreaties of the Su- trians, he determined not to defer his revenge, but to march to Sutrium that very day; conclud- ing that men who had just taken an opulent city, where they had not left one enemy, and who ex- pected none from any other quarter, would be found in disorder and off their guard. Nor was he mistaken in his judgment. He not only passed through the country undiscovered, but approached the gates and got possession of the walls before they were aware. Indeed there was none to guard them : for all were engaged in festivity and dissipation. Nay, eveii whea they C AMILLUS. 117 ,erce?ved that the enemy were masters of the town, they were so overcome by their indulgences, that few endeavored to escape; they were either slain in their houses, or surrendered themselves to the conquerors. Thus the city of Sutrium being twice taken in one day, the new possessors were expelled, and the old ones restored, by Camillus. By the triumph decreed him on this occasion, he gained no less credit and honor than by the two former. For those of the citizens that envi- ed him, and were desirous to attribute his suc- cesses rather to fortune than to his valor and conduct, were compelled, by these last actions, to allow his great abilities and application. Among those that opposed him and detracted from his merit, the most considerable was Marcus Manlius, who was the first that repulsed the Gauls, when they attempted the Capitol by night, and on that account was surnamed Capitolinus. He was am- bitious to be the greatest man in Rome, and as he could not by f;iir means outstrip Camillus in the race of honor, he took the common road to abso- lute power by courting the populace, particularly those that were in deBt. Some of the latter he defended, by pleading their causes against their creditors; and others he rescued, forcibly prevent- ing their being dealt with according to law. So that he soon got a number of indigent persons about him, who became formidable to the patri- cians by their insolent and riotous behavior in the forum. In this exigency they appointed Cornelius COS- BUS* dictator, who named Titus Quintius Capitoli- nus his general of horse ; and by this supreme magistrate Manlius was committed to prison: on which occasion the people went into mourning; a thing never used but in time of great and public calamities. The senate therefore, afraid of an insurrection, ordered him to be released. But when set at liberty, instead of altering his con- duct, he grew more insolent and troublesome, and filled the whole city with faction and sedition. At that time Camillus was again created a mili- tary tribune, and Manlius taken and brought to his trial. But the sight of the Capitol was a great disadvantage to those that carried on the impeach- ment. The place where Manlius by night main- tained the fight against the Gauls, was seen from the forum; and all that attended were moved with compassion at his stretching out his hands toward that place, and begging them with tears to re- member his achievements. The judges of course were greatly embarrassed, and often adjourned the court, not choosing to acquit him after such clear proofs of his crime, nor yet able to carry the laws into execution in a place which continu- ally reminded the people of his services. Camil- lus, sensible of this, removed the tribunal without the gate, into the Peteline Grove, where there was no prospect of the Capitol. There the prosecutor brought his charge, and the remembrance of his former bravery gave way to the sense which his judges had of his present crimes. Manlius, therefore was condemned, carried to the Capitol, and thrown headlong from the rock. Thus the same place was the monument both of his glory and his unfortunate end. The Romans, moreover, razed his house, and built there a temple to the goddess Moneta. They decreed likewise that for the future no patrician should ever dwell in the Capitol.f * Vide Liv. lib. vi, cap. 2. t Lest, the advantageous situation of a fortress, that com- Vanded tlie whole city, should suggest and facilitate the tasiga of enslaving it. For Manlius was accused of aim- Camillus, who was now nominated military tribune the sixth time, declined that honor. For, beside that he was of an advanced age, he was apprehensive of the effects of envy and of some change of fortune, after so much glory and suc- cess. But the excuse he most insisted on in public, was the state of his health, which at that time was infirm. The people, however, refusing to accept of that excuse, cried out, " They did not desire him to fight either on horseback or on foot; they only wanted his counsel and his orders." Thus they forced him to take the office upon him, and together with Lucius Furius MeduUinus, one of his colleagues, to march immediately against the enemy. These were the people of Prreneste and the Volsci, who, with a considerable army, were lay- ing waste the country in alliance with Rome. Camillus, therefore, went and encamped over against them, intending to prolong the war, that if there should be any necessity for a battle, he might be sufficiently recovered to do his part. But as his colleague Lucius, too ambitious of glory, was violently and indiscreetly bent upon fighting, and inspired the other officers with the game ardor, he was afraid it might be thought that through envy he withheld from the young officers the opportunity to distingush themselves. For this reason he agreed, though with great reluctance, that Lucius should draw out the forces, while he, on account of his sickness,* remained with a handful of men in the camp. But when he perceived that Lucius, who engaged in a rash and precipitate manner, was defeated, and the Romans put to flight, he could not contain him- self, but leaped from his bed, and went with hia retinue to the gates of the camp. There he forced his way through the fugitives up to the pursuers? and made so good a stand, that those who had fled to the camp soon returned to the charge, and others that were retreating rallied and placed them- selves about him, exhorting each other not to forsake their general. Thus the enemy were stopped in the pursuit. Next day he marched out at the head of his army, entirely routed the confederates in a pitched battle, and entering their camp along with them, cut most of them in pieces. After this, being informed that Satricum, a Roman colony, was taken by the Tuscans, and the inhabitants put to the sword, he sent home the main body of his forces, which consisted of the heavy- armed, and with a select band of light and spirited young men, fell upon the Tuscans that were in possession of the city, some of whom he put to the sword, and the rest were driven out. Returning to Rome with great spoils, he gave a signal evidence of the good sense of the Roman people, who entertained no fears on account of the ill health or age of a general that was not deficient ing at the sovereign power. His fate may serve as a warn- ing to all ambitious men who want, to rise on the ruins of their country; for he could not escape or find mercy with the people, though he produced above four hundred plebei- ans, whose debts he had paid; though he showed thirty suits of armor, the spoils of thirty enemies, whom he had slain in single combat; though he had received forty honor- ary rewards, among which were two mural and eight civic crown* (C. Servilius, when general of the horse, being of the number of citizens whose lives he had saved); and though he had crowned all with the preservation of the Capitol. So inconstant, however, is the multitude, that Manlius was scarce dead, when his loss was generally la- mented, and a plague, which soon followed, ascribed to the anger of Jupiter against the authors of his death. * Livy says, he placed himself on an eminence, with corps de reserve, to observe the success of the battle. 118 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. in courage or experience, but made choice of him, infirm and reluctant as he was, rather than of those young men that wanted and solicited the command. Hence it was, that upon the news of the revolt of the Tusculans, Camillus was ordered to march against them, and to take with him only one of his five colleagues. Though they all desired and made interest for the commission, yet, passing the rest by, he pitched upon Lucius Furius, contrary to the general expectation : for this was the man who but just before, against the opinion of Camil- lus, was so eager to engage, and lost the battle. Yet, willing, it seems, to draw a vail over his mis- fortune, and to wipe off his disgrace, he was gen- erous enough to give him the preference.* When the Tusculans perceived that Camillus was corning against them, they attempted to cor- rect their error by artful management. They filled the fields with husbandmen and shepherds, as in time of profound peace; they left their gates open, and sent their children to school as before. The tradesmen were found i their shops employed in their respective callings, and the better sort of citizens walking in the public places in their usual dress. Meanwhile the magistrates were busily passing to and fro, to order quarters for the Ro- mans ; as if they expected no danger and were conscious of no fault. Though these arts could not alter the opinion Camillus had of their revolt, yet their repentance disposed him to compassion. He ordered them, therefore, to go to the seriate of Rome and beg pardon : and when they appeared there as suppliants, he used his interest to procure their forgiveness, and a grant of the privileges of Roman citizens! beside. These were the princi- pal actions of his sixth tribuneship. After this, Licinius Stolo raised a great sedition in the state ; putting himself at the head of the people, who insisted that of the two consuls one should be a plebeian. Tribunes of the people were appointed, but the multitude would suffer no election of consuls to be held.$ As this want of chief magistrates was likely to bring on still greater troubles, the senate created Camillus dic- tator the fourth time, against the consent of the people, and not even agreeable to his own inclina- tion. For he was unwilling to set himself against those persons, who, having been often led on by him to conquest, could with great truth affirm, that he had more concern with them in the military way, than with the patricians in the civil ; and at the same time was sensible that the envy of those * This choice of Camillus had a different motive from what Plutarch mentions. He knew that Furius, who had felt the ill effects of a precipitate conduct, would be the first man to avoid such a conduct for the future. t He was only a Roman citizen, in the most extensive signification of the words, who had a right of having a house in Rome, cf giving his vote in the Comitia, and of standing candidate for any office; and who, consequently, was incorporated into one of the tribes. The freemen in the times of the republic were excluded from dignities: and of the municipal towns and Roman colonies, which enjoyed the right of citizenship, some had, and some had riot, the right of suffrage and of promotion to offices in Rome. t This confusion lasted five years; during which the tri- bunes of the people prevented the Comitia from bein* held which were necessary for the election of the chief magi*. trates. It was occasioned by a trifling accident. Fabius Ambustus having married his eldest daughter to Servius Sulpicius, a patrician, and at this time milftary tribune and the younger, to Licinius Stolo, a rich plebeian; it happened that while the younger sister was paying a visit to the elder, Sulpicius came home from the Forum, and his lictors with the staff of the fasces, thundered at the door. The younger sister being frightened at the noise, the elder laugh- ed at her, as a person quite ignorant of high life. This affront greatly afflicted her; and her father, to comfort her, bid her not bo uneasy, for she should soon see as much state at her own house as had surprised her at her sister's. The year of Rome 388. very patricians induced them now to promote him to that high station, that he might oppress the peo- ple if he succeeded, or be ruined by them if ho failed in his attempt. He attempted, however, to obviate the present danger, and as he knew the day on which the tribunes intended to propose their law, he published a general muster, and summoned the people from the forum into the field, threaten- ing to set heavy fines upon those that should not obey. On the other hand, the tribunes of the peo- ple opposed him with menaces, solemnly protest- ing they would fine him fifty thousand drachmas, if he did not permit the people to put their bill to the vote. Whether it was that he was afraid of a second condem nation and banishment, which would but ill suit him, now he was grown old and cov- ered with glory, or whether he thought he could not get the better of the people, whose vio- lence was equal to their power, for the present he retired to his own house ; and soon after, under pretense of sickness, resigned the dictatorship.* The senate appointed another dictator, who, hav- ing named for his general of horse that very Stolo wiio was leader of the sedition, suffered a law to be made that was extremely disagreeable to the patricians. It provided that no person whatsoever should possess more than five hundred acres of land. Stolo having carried his point with the peo- ple, flourished greatly for a while : but not long after, being convicted of possessing more than the limited number of acres, he suffered the penalties of his own law.f The most difficult part of the dispute, and that which they began with, namely, concerning the election of consuls, remained still unsettled, and continued to give the senate great uneasiness when certain information was brought that, the Gauls were inarching again from the coasts of the Adriatic, with an immense army toward Rome. With this news came an account of the usual effects of war, the country laid waste, and such of the inhabitants as could not take refuge in Rome, dispersed about the mountains. The terror of this put a stop to the sedition; and the most popular of the senators uniting with the people, with one voice created Camillus dictator the fifth time. He was now very old, wanting little of fourscore; yet, seeing the necessity and danger of the times, he was willing to risk all inconveniences ; and, with- out alleging any excuse, immediately took upon him the command, and made the levies. As he knew the chief force of the barbarians lay in their swords, which they managed without art or skMl, furiously rushing in and aiming chiefly at the head and shoulders, he furnished most of his men with helmets of well polished iron, that the swords might either break or glance aside; and round the borders of their shields he drew a plate of brass, because the wood of itself could not resist the strokes. Beside this, he taught them to avail them- selves of long pikes, by pushing with which they might prevent the effect of the enemy's swords. When the Gauls were arrived at the river Anio with their army, encumbered with the vast booty they had made, Camillus drew out his forces, and posted them upon a hill of easy ascent, in which were many hollows, sufficient to conceal the great- est part of his men, while those that were in sight should seem through fear to have taken advantage of the higher grounds. And the more to fix this * He pretended to find something amiss in the auspices which were taken when he was appointed. t It was eleven years after. Popilius Ltenas fined him ten thousand sesterces for being possessed of a thousand acres of land, in conjunction with his son, whom he bad emancipated for that purpose. Liv. lib. vii, o. 16. CAMILLUS. 110 opinion in the Gauls, he opposed not the depreda- tions committed in his sight, but remained quietly ill the camp he had fortified, while he had beheld part of them dispersed in order to plunder, and part indulging themselves, day and night, in drinking and reveling. At last, he sent out the light-armed infantry before day, to prevent the enemy's drawing up in a regular manner, and to harass them by sudden skirmishing as they issued out of their trenches ; and as soon as it was light he led down the heavy-armed, and put them in battle array upon the plain, neither few in number nor disheart- tened, as the Gauls expected, but numerous and full of spirits. This was the first thing that shook their resolu- tion, for they considered it as a disgrace to have the Romans the aggressors. Then the light-armed, falling upon them before they could get into order and rank themselves by companies, pressed them so warmly, that they were obliged to come in great confusion to the engagement. Last of all, Camil- lus leading on the heavy-armed, the Gauls with brandished swords hastened to fight hand to hand ; but the Romans meeting their strokes with their pikes, and receiving them on that part that was guarded with iron, so turned their swords, which were thin and soft tempered, that they were soon bent almost double ; and their shields were pierced and weighed down with the pikes that stuck in them. They, therefore, quitted their own arms, and endeavored to seize those of the enemy, and to wrest their pikes from them. The Romans seeing them naked, now began to make use of their swords, and made great carnage among tiie foremost ranks. Meantime the rest took to flight, and were scattered along the plain ; for Camillus had beforehand secured the hights ; and as, in confidence of victory, they had left their camp un- fortified, they knew it would be taken with ease. This battle is said to have been fought thirteen years after the taking of Rome ;* and, in conse- quence of this success, the Romans laid aside, for the future, the dismal apprehensions they had en- tertained of the barbarians. They had imagined, it seems, that the former victory they had gained over the Gauls, was owing to the sickness that pre- vailed in their army, and to other unforeseen ac- cidents, rather than to their own valor : and so great had their terror been formerly, that they had made a law, that the priests should be exempted from military service, except in case of an invasion from the Gauls. This was the last of Camillus's martial exploits. For the taking of Velitrae was a direct conse- quence of this victory, and it surrendered without the least resistance. But the greatest conflict he ever experienced in the state, still remained ; for the people were harder to deal with since they re- turned victorious, and they insisted that one of the consuls should be chosen out of their body, contrary to the present constitution. The senate This battle was fought, not thirteen, but twenty-three jtais after the taking of Rome. opposed them, and would not suffer Camillus to resign the dictatorship, thinking they could better defend the rights of the nobility under the sanc- tion of his supreme authority. But one day, as Camillus was sitting in the forum, and employed in the distribution of justice, an officer sent by the tribunes of the people, ordered him to follow him, and laid his hand upon him, as if he would seize and carry him away. Upon this such a noise and tumult was raised in the assembly, as never had been known ; those that were about Camillus thrusting the plebeian officer down from the tribu- nal, and the populace calling out to drag the dic- tator from his seat. In this case Camillas was much embarrassed ; he did not, however, resign the dictatorship, but led ofF the patricians to tho senate-house. Before he entered it, he turned to- ward the Capitol, and prayed to the gods to put a happy end to the present disturbances, solemnly vowing to build a temple to Concord, when the tu- mult should be over. In the senate there was a diversity of opin- ions and great debates. Mild and popular coun- sels, however, prevailed, which allowed one of the consuls to be a plebeian.* When the dic- tator announced this decree to the people, they re- ceived it with great satisfaction, as it was natural they should; they were immediately reconciled to the senate, and conducted Camillus home with great applause. Next day the people assembled, and voted that the temple which Camillus had vowed to Concord, should, on account of this great event, be built on a spot that fronted the forum and place of assembly. To those feasts which ar called latin they added one day more, so that the whole was to consist of four days ; and for the present they ordained that the whole people of Rome should sacrifice with garlands on their heads. Camillus then held an assembly for the election of consuls, when Marcus jEmilius was chosen out of the nobility, and Lucius Sextius from the com- monalty, the first plebeian that ever attained that honor. This was the last of Camillus's transactions. The year following, a pestilence visited Rome, which carried off a prodigious number of the peo- ple, most of the magistrates, and Camillus him- self. His death could not be deemed premature, on account of his great age, and the offices he had borne, yet he was more lamented than all the rest of the citizens who died of that distemper. * The people having gained this point, the consulate was revived, and the military tribuneship laid aside forever. But at the same time the patricians procured the great privilege that a new olh'eer, called the prator, should be appointed, who was to be always one of their body. The consuls had been generals of the Roman armies, and at the same time judges of civil affairs, but as they, were often in the field, it was thought proper to separate the latter branch from their office, and appropriate it to a judge with the title of prtet&r, who was to be next in dignity to the consuls. About the year of Rome 501, another prator was appointed to decide the differences among foreigners. Upon the taking of Sicily and Sardinia, two more praetors were created, and as man; more upon the conquest of Spain. 120 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. PERICLES. WHKN Cnpsir happened to see some strangers at Rome carrying young dogs and monkeys in their arms, and fondly caressing them, he asked, K Whether the women in their country never bore any children? " thus reproving with a pro- per severity those who lavish upon brutes that natural tenderness which is due only to mankind. Ill the same manner we must condemn those who employ that curiosity and love of knowledge which nature has implanted in the human soul, upon low and worthless objects, while they neg- lect such as are excellent and useful. Our senses, indeed, by an effect almost mechanical, are pas- sive to the impression of outward objects, whether agreeable or offensive: but the mind possessed of a self-directing power, may turn its attention to whatever it thinks proper. It should, therefore, be employed in the most useful pursuits, not bare- ly in contemplation, but in such contemplation as may nourish its faculties. For as that color is best suited to the eye. which by its beauty and agreeableness at the same time both refreshes and strengthens the sight, so the application of the mind should be directed to those subjects which, through the channel of pleasure, may lead us to our proper happiness. Such are the works of virtue. The very description of these inspires us with emulation, and a strong desire to imitate them; whereas in other things, admiration does not always lead ns to imitate what we admire; but, on the contrary, while we are charmed with the wo\k, we often despise the workman. Thus we aro pleased with perfumes and purple, while dyers and perfumers appear to us in the light of mean mechanics. Antistheu a s,* therefore, when he was told that Ismenias played pxcellently upon the flute, ans- wered properly enough, "Then he is good for nothing else; c^he.wise he would not have played so well." Such also was Philip's saying to his son, when at a certain entertainment he sang in a very agreeable and sk.Mlful n/umer, "Are you not ashamed to sing so well!*' It is enough for a prince to bestow a vacant hour upon hearing others sing, and he does the muses sufficient hoi;or, if he attends the perfonrxanoes of those who excel in their arts. If a man applies himself to servile 01 mechanical employments, his industry in those things is a proof of his inattention to nobler studies. No young man of noble birth, or liberal sentiments, from seeing the Jupiter at Pisa, would desire to be Phkiias, or from the sight of the Juno at Argos, lo be Polycletus; or Anacreon, or Philemon, or Archilocus, though delighted with their poems.f For though u work may be agreeable, yet esteem of the author is not the necessary consequence. * Antisthenes was a disciple of Socrates, and founder of the sect of the Cynics. t This seems to be somewhat inconsistent with that re- spect and esteem, in which the noble arts of poetry and sculpture were held in ancient Greece and Rome, and with that admiration which the proficients in those arts always obtain among- the people. But there was still a kind of jealousy between the poets and philosophers, and our philo- sophical biographer shows pretty clearly by the P atonic parade of this introduction, that he would magnify tke lat- ter at the expense of the former. We may, therefore, conclude, that things of thru kind, which excite not a strong emulation, nor produce any strong impulse or desire to imitate them, are of little use to the beholders. Bnt virtue has this peculiar property, that at the same time that we admire her conduct, we long to copy the example. The goods of fortune we wish to enjoy; virtue we desire to practice: the former we are glad to receive from others, the latter we are am- bitious that others should receive from us. The beauty of goodness has an attractive power; it kindles in us at once an active principle; it forms our manners, and influences our desires, not only when represented in a living example, but even in an historical description. For this reason we chose to proceed in writing the lives of great men, and have composed this tenth book, which contains the life of Pericles, and that of Fabius Maximus, who carried on the war against Hannibal: men who resembled each other in many virtues, particularly in justice and | moderation, and who effectually served their res- I pective commonwealths, by patiently enduring the injurious and capricious treatment they re- ceived from their colleagues and their country- men. Whether we are right in our judgment or not, will be easy to see in the work itself. Pericles was of the tribe of Acamantis, and of the ward of Cholargia. His family was one of the most considerable in Athens, both by the father and mother's side. His father Xanthip- pus, who defeated the king of Persia's gene- rals at Mycale, married Agariste, the niece of Ciisthenes, who expelled the family of Pisistratus, abolished the tyranny, enacted laws, and estab- lished a form of government tempered in such a manner as tended to unanimity among the people, and the safety of the state. She dreamed that she was delivered of a lion, and a few days after brought forth Pericles. His person in other res- pects was well turned, but his head was dispro- portionally long. For this reason almost all his statues have the head covered with a helmet, the statuaries choosing, I suppose, to hide that defect But the Athenian poets called him Schinocepha- lus, or ouinnhead, for the word schinos is sometimes used instead of scilla, a sea-onion. Cratinus, the comic writer, in his play called Chirones, has this Faction received old Time to her embraces: Hence came a tyrant-spawn, on earth ca.led Pericles, In heaven, the /lead-compcUcr. And again, in his Nemesis, he thus addresse* him, Corns, blessed Jove,* the high and mighty head, The friend of hospitality! And Teleclides says, Now, in a maze of thought, he ruminates On strange expedients, while his head, depresa'd * Pericles (as Plutarch afterward observes), was called Olym-piufi, or Jupiter. The poet here addresses him undet that character with the epithet of ,u*!iifit, which signifie blessed, but may also signify great- headed. In our language we have no word with such a double meaning. Just above, he is called Cephalegcret.es, hcad-compellcr (as if his head was an assemblage of many heads), instead of Ncphelegt- rctes, cloud-compeller, a common epithet of Jupiter. PERICLES. 121 WUn nis own weight, sinks on his knees: and now From the vast caverns of his bruin burst forth Storms and fierce thunders. And Eupolis, in his Demi, asking news of all the great orators, whom he represented as ascending from the shades below, when Pericles comes up last, cries out, Head of the tribes that haunt those Does he ascend? ;ious realms, Most writers agree, that the master who taught him music wus called Damon, the first syllable of whose name, they tell us, is to be pronounced short; but Aristotle informs us, that he learned that art of Pythoclides. As for Damon, he seems to have been a politician, who under the pretense of teaching music, concealed his great abilities from the vulgar: and he attended Pericles as his tutor and assistant in politics, in the same manner as a master of the gymnastic art attends a young man to fit him for the ring. However, Damon's giving lessons upon the harp was discovered to be a mere pretext, and, as a busy politician and friend to tyranny, he was banished by the ostracism. Nor was he spared by the comic poets. One of them, named Plato introduces a person addressing him thus, Inform me, Damon, first, does fame say true? And wast thou really Pcricles's Chiron?* Pericles also attended the lectures of Zeno of Elea,f who, in natural philosophy, was a follower of Parmeniues, and who, by much practice in the art of disputing, had learned to confound and si- lence all his opponents; as Timon, the Phlasian, declares in these verses, Have you not he;:rd of Zeno's mighty powers, Who could change sides, yet changing triumph still In the tongue's wars. But the philosopher with whom he was most in- timately acquainted, who gave him that force anc sublimity of sentiment superior fo all the dema- gogues, who, in short, formed him to that admirable dignity of manners, was Auaxagoras the Clazo- menian. This was he whom the people of those times called nous or intelligence, either in admira- tion of his great understanding and knowledge of the works of nature, or because he was the firs who clearly proved, that the universe owed its formation neither to chance nor necessity, but to a pure and unmixed MIND, who separated tlu homogeneous parts from the other with whicl they were confounded. Charmed with the company of this philosopher and instructed by him in the sublimest sciences Pericles acquired not only an elevation of senti ment, and a lofiiness and purity of style, far re moved from the low expression of the vulgar, bu likewise a gravity of countenance which relaxei * The word Chiron, ag;iin, is ambiguous, and may eithe signify, wast, thou preceptor to Pericles? or, wtist t/iuu inor vrickrd than Pericles'? t This Zeno \va . of Elea, a town of Italy, and a Phociai colony; and must be carefully distinguished from Zeno tin founder of the sect of the Sioics. The Zeno here spokei of was respectable for attempting to rid his country of ; tyrant, '"'he tyrant took him, and caused him to he poundei to death in a mortar. But his death accomplished what hi could not effect in his lifetime: for his fellow citizens wer so much incensed at the dreadful manner of it, that the fell upon the tyrant and stoned him. As to his arguments and those of his master Parmenides, pretended to be so in rincible, one of tliem was to prove there can be no sue thing as motion, since a thing can neither move in th place where it is, nor in the place where it is not. But thi tophi sin is easily refuted: for motion is the passing of thing or person into a new part of space. not into laughter, a firm and even tone of vuce, in easy deportment, and a decency of dress, which 10 vehemence of speaking ever put into disorder. These things, and others of the like nature, ex- cited admiration in all that saw him. Such was his conduct, when a vile and abandon- ed fellow loaded him a whole day witti reproaches and abuse, he bore it with patience and silence, and continued in public for the dispatch of some urgent affairs. In the evening he walked slowly home, this impudent wretch following, and insult- ng him all the way with the most scurrilous anguage. And as it was dark when he came to nis own door, he ordered one of his servants to take a torch and light the man home. The poet Ion, however, says he was proud and supercilious a conversation, and that there was a great deal of vanity and contempt of others, mixed with his dignity of manner: on the other hand, he highly extols the civility, complaisance, and politeness of Cimon. But to take no farther notice of Ion, who perhaps would not have any great excellence appear, without a mixture of something satirical, as it was in the ancient tragedy;* Zeno desired those that called the gravity of Pericles pride and arrogance, to be proud the same way; telling them, the very acting of an excellent part might insen- sibly produce a love und real imitation of it. These were not the only advantages which Pericles gained by conversing with Anaxagoras From him he learned to overcome those terrors which the various phenomena of the heavens raise in those who know not their causes, and who en- tertain a tormenting fear of the gods by reason of that ignorance. Nor is there any cure for it but the study of nature, which, instead of the fright- ful extravagancies of superstition, implants in us a sober piety, supported by a rational hope. We are told, there was brought to Pericles, from one of his farms, a rarn's head with only one horn; and Lampo the soothsayer, observing that the horn grew strong and firm out of the middle of the forehead, declared, that the two parties in the state, namely, those of Thucydides and Pericles, would unite, and invest the whole power in him with whom the prodigy was found: but Anaxa- goras having dissected the head, showed that the brain did not fill the whole cavity, but had con- tracted itself into an oval form, and pointed di- rectly to that part of the skull whence the horn took its rise. This procured Anaxagoras great honor with the spectators; and Lampo was no less honored for his prediction, when, soon after, upon the fall of Thucydides, the adminis- tration was put entirely into the hands of Peri- cles. But in my opinion, the philosopher and the diviner may well enough be reconciled, and both he right; the one discovering the cause and the other the end. It was the business of the former to account for the appearance, and to consider how it came about; and of the latter, to show why it was so formed, and what it portended. Those who say, that when the cause is found out the prodigy ceases, do not consider, that if they re- ject such signs as are preternatural, they must * Tragedy at first was only a chorus in honor of Baechn>. Persons dressed like satyrs were the performers, and they often broke out into the most licentious raillery. Afterward when tragedy took a graver turn, something of the former drollery was still retained, as in that which "we call tragi- comedy. In time, serious characters and events became the subject of tragedy, without that mixture; but even then after exhibiting three or four serious tragedies, the poeti used to conclude their contention for the pri/.e, with a ta- tirical one: of this sort is the Cyclops of Euripides, and the only one remaining. 122 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. also deny that artificial signs are of any use; the clattering of brass quoits,* the light of beacons, and the shadow of a sun-dial, have all of them their proper natural causes, and yet each has an- other signification. But, perhaps, this question might be more properly discussed in another place. Pericles, in his youth, stood in great fear of the people. For in his countenance he was like Pisis- tratus the tyrant; and he perceived the old men were much struck by a farther resemblance in the sweetness of his voice, the volubility of his tongue, and the roundness of his periods. As he was, moreover, of a noble family and opulent fortune, and his friends were the most considerable men in the state, he dreaded the bun of ostracism, and, therefore, intermeddled not wilh state affairs, but behaved with great courage and intrepidity in the field. However, when Aristides was dead, The- mistocles banished, and Cimon much employed in expeditions at a distance from Greece, Pericles engaged in the administration. He chose rather to solicit the favor of the multitude and the poor,f than of the rich and the few, contrary to his natu- ral disposition, which was far from inclining him to court popularity. It seems he was apprehensive of falling under the suspicion of aiming at the supreme power, and was sensible, beside, that Cimon was attached to the nobility, and extremely beloved by persons of the highest eminence; and, therefore, in order to secure himself, and to rind resources against the power of Cimon, he studied to ingratiate him- self with the common people. At the same time, he entirely changed his manner of living. He appeared not in the streets, except when he went to the forum or the senate house. He declined the invitations of his friends, and all social enter- tainments and recreations; insomuch, that in the whole time of his administration, which was a considerable length, he never went to sup with any of his friends, but once, which was at the marriage of his nephew Euryptolemus, and he staid there only until the ceremony of libation was ended. He considered that the freedom of entertainments takes away all distinction of office, and that dignity is but little consistent with familiarity. Real and solid virtue, indeed, the more it is seen, the more glorious it appears; and there is nothing in a good man's conduct, as a magistrate, so great in the eye of the public, as is the general course of his behavior in private to his most intimate friends. Pericles, however, took care not to make his person cheap among the people, and appeared among them only at proper intervals: Nor did he speak on all po::its that were debated before them, but reserved him- self, like the Salarninian galleyj (as Critolaus * The clattering of brass quoits or plates was sometimes a military signal among the Grecians. Among the Romans it was a signal to call the wrestlers to the ring. t The. popular party in Athens were continually making efforts against those small remains of power which were ye in the hands of the nobility. As Pericles could not lead the party of the nobles, because Cimon, by the dignity of his birth, the luster of his actions, and the largeness of his es- tate, had placed himself at their head, he had no other re- source than to court the populace. And he flattered thei favorite passion in the most agreeable manner, by lessenin the power and privileges of the court of Areopagus, whic was the chief support of the nobility, and indeed of the whole state. Thus the bringing of almost all causes before the tribunal of the people, the multiplying of gratuit which were only another word for bribes, and the giving the people a taste tor expensive pleasures, caused the tiownfal of the Athenian commonwealth; though the personal abili- ties of Pericles supported it during his time. $ The Salaminian galley was a consecrated vessel which the Athenians never made use of but on extraordinary ays), for greater occasions; dispatching business if less consequence by other orators with whom ie had an intimacy. One of these, we are told, was Ephialtes, who, according to Plato, overthrew he power of the council of Areopagus, by giving he citizens a large and intemperate draught of iberty. On which account the comic writers ipeak of the people of Athens as of a horse wild ind unmanaged, which listens to the reins no more, But in his maddening course bears headlong dowa The very friends that feed him. Pericles, desirous to make his language a proper vehicle for his sublime sentiments, and to speak n a manner that became the dignity of his life ivailed himself greatly of what he had learned of Anaxagoras. adorning his eloquence with the rich colors of philosophy. For, adding (as the divine Plato expresses it), the loftiness of imagination, and all-commanding energy, with which philoso- 3hy supplied him, to his native powers of genius, and making use of whatever he found to his purpose, in the study of nature, to dignify the art of speaking, he far excelled all other orators.* Hence he is said to have gained the surname of Olympius; though some will have it to have been from the edifices with which he adorned the city; and others, from his high authority both in peace and war. There appears, indeed, no absurdity in supposing that all these things might contribute to that glorious distinction. Yet the strokes of satire, both serious and ludicrous, in the comedies of those times, indicate that this title was given him chiefly on account of his eloquence. For they tell us that in his harangues, he thundered and lightened, and that his tongue was armed with thunder. Thucydides, the son of Milesius, is said to have given a pleasant account of the force of his eloquence. Thucydides was a great and respectable man, who for a long time opposed the measures of Pericles: And when Archidamus, one of the kings of Lacedremon asked him, "Which was the best wrestler, Pericles, or he?'* he answered, "When I throw him, he says he was never down, and he persuades the very spec- tators to believe so." Yet such was the solicitude of Pericles when he had to speak in public, that he always first addressed a prayer to the gods,f "That not a word might unawares escape him unsuitable to the occasion." He left nothing in writing but some public decrees; and only a few of his say- ings are recorded. He used to say (for instance) that " The isle of ^Egina should not be suffered to remain an eye-sore to the Pirceus:" and that "He saw a war approaching from Peloponnesus." And when Sophocles, who went in joint command with him upon an expedition at sea, happened to praise the beauty of a certain hoy, he said, " A general, my friend, should not only have pure hands, but pure eyes." Stesimbrotus produces this passage from the oration which Pericles pro- nounced in memory of those Athenians who fell in the Samian war, "They are become immortal occasions. They sent it, for instance, for a general whom they wanted to call to account, or with sacrifices to Apollo, or some other deity. * Plato observes, on the same occasion, that an orator M well as a physician ought to have a general knowledge of nature. t Quintilian says, he prayed that not a word might escap him disagreeable to the people. And this is the mor probable account of the matter, because (according to Suidas) Pericles wrote down his orations oefore he pro nounceil them in public; and, indeed, was the first who did so. PERICLES. 123 like the gods: For the gods themselves are not visible to us; but from the honors they receive, and the happiness they enjoy, we conclude they are immortal; and such should those brave men be who die for their country." Thucvdides represents the administration of Pericles as favoring aristocracy, and tells us that, though the government was called democratical, it was really in the hands of one who had en- grossed the whole authority. Many oilier writers likewise inform us, that by him the people were first indulged with a division of lands, were treat- ed at the public expense with theatrical diversions, and were paid for the most common services to the state. As this new indulgence from the go- vernment was an impolitic custom, which rend- ered the people expensive and luxurious, and destroyed that frugality and love of labor which supported them before, it is proper that we should truce the effect to its cause, by a retrospect into the circumstances of the republic. At first, as we have observed, to raise himself to some sort of equality with Cimon, who was then at the hight of glory, Pericles made his court to the people. And as Cimon was his superior in point of fortune, which he employed in relieving the poor Athenians, in providing victuals every day for the necessitous, and cloth- ing the aged; and beside this, leveled his fences with the ground, that all might be at liberty to gather his fruit; Pericles had recourse to the ex- pedient of dividing the public treasure ; which scheme, as Aristotle, informs us, was proposed to him by Demonides of los.* Accordingly, by supplying the people with money for the public diversions, and for their attendance in courts of judicature,! and by other pensions and gratuities, lie so inveigled them, as to avail himself of their interest against the council of the Areopagus, of which he had no right to be a member, having never had the fortune to be chosen arclvon, Tkes- mothdes, king of the sacred rites, or polemarch. For persons were of old appointed to these offices by lot; and such as had discharged them well, and such only, were admitted as judges in the Areopagus. Pericles, therefore, by his popularity raised a [/arty against that council, and by means of Ephialtes, took from them the cognizance of many causes that had been under their jurisdic- tion. He likewise caused Cimon to be banished by the Ostracism, as an enemy to the people,} and a friend to the Lacedaemonians; a man who in birth and fortune had no superior, who had gained very glorious victories over the barbarians, and tilled tne city with money and other spoils, as we have; related in his life. Such was the authority of Pericles with the common people. The term of Cimon's banishment, as it was by Ostracism, was limited by law to ten years. * los was one of the isles called Sporades, in the ^Eo- sea, and celebrated for the tomb of Homer. But some learned men are of opinion that instead of l&tv, we should read OtStv, and that Demonides was not of the island of los, but of Oi;i, which was a borough in Attica. t There were several courts of judicature in Athens, composed of a certain number of the citizens; who some- times received one obolus each, for every cause they tried; and sometimes men who aimed at popularity procured this fee to be increased. tHis treason against the state was pretended to consist in receiving presents or other gratifications from the Mace- donians, whereby he w*s prevailed on to let slip the oppor- tunity he had to enlarge the Athenian conquests, after he had taken the gold mines of Thrnce. Cimon answered that he had prosecuted the war to the utmost of his power against, the Thracians and their other enemies; but that he had made no iryoads into Macedonia, because he did not oncive that he was to act as a public enemy to mankind. Meantime, the Lacedaemonians, with a great army, entered the territory of Tanagra, and the Athe- nians immediately marching out against them, Cirnon returned, and placed himself in the ranks with those of his tribe, intending by his deeds to wipe off the aspersion of favoring the Lacedaemon- ians, and to venture his life with his countrymen; but, by a combination of the friends of Peri- cles, he was repulsed as an exile. This seems to have been the cause that Pericles exerted himself in a particular manner in that battle, and exposed his person to the greatest dangers. All Cimon's friends, whom Pericles had accused as accompli- ces in his pretended crime, fell honorably thf day together: And the Athenians, who were defeated upon their own borders, and expected a still sharper conflict in the summer, grievously repented of their treatment of Cimon, and longed for his return. Pericles, sensible of the people's inclinations, did not hesitate to gratify them, but himself proposed a decree for calling Cimon, and at his return, a peace was agreed upon through his mediation. For the Lacedaemonians had a particular regard for him, as well as aversion to Pericles and the other demagogues. But some authors write, that Pericles did not procure an order for Cimon's return, until they had entered into a private com- pact, by means of Cimon's sister Elpinice, that Cimon should have the command abroad, and with two hundred galleys lay waste the king of Persia's dominions, and Pericles have the direction of af- fairs at home. A story goes, that Elpinice, before this, had softened the resentment of Pericles against Cirnon, and procured her brother a milder sen- tence than that of death. Pericles was one of those, appointed by the people to manage the im- peachment; and when Elpinice addressed him as a suppliant, he smiled and said, " You are old, Elpinice; much too old to solicit in so weighty au affair." However, he rose up but once to speak, barely to acquit himself of his trust, and did not bear so hard upon Cimon as the rest of his accu- sers.* Who then can give credit to Idomeneus, when he says that Pericles caused the orator Ephi- altes, his friend and assistant in the administration, to be assassinated through jealousy and envy of his great character? I know not where he met with this calumny, which he vents with great bitterness against a man, riot in- deed, in all respects irreproachable, but who cer- tainly had such a greatness of mind, and high sense of honor as was incompatible with an action so savage and inhuman. The truth of the matter, according to Aristotle, is, that Ephialtes being grown formidable to the nobles, on account of his inflexible severity in prosecuting all that in- vaded the rights of the people, his enemies caused him to be taken off in a private and treacherous manner, by Aristodicus of Tanagra. About the same time died Cimon, in the expe- dition to Cyprus. And the nobility perceiving that Pericles was now arrived at a hight of au- thority which set him far above the other citizens, were desirous of having some person to oppose him, who might be capable of giving a check to his power, and of preventing his making himself absolute. For this purpose they set up Thucy- dides, of the ward of Alopece, a man of great pru- dence, and brother-in-law to Cimon. He had not, indeed, Cimon's talents for war, but was su- perior to him in forensic and political abilities; and, by residing constantly in Athens, and oppos- * Yet Cimon was fined fifty talents, or 9G87/. 10*. ster- ling, and narrowly escaped a capital sentence, having only a majority of three votes to prevent it. 124 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Ing Pericles in the general assembly, he soon brought the government to an equilibrium. For he did not suffer persons of superior rank to be dispersed and confounded with the rest of the peo- ple, because in that case their dignity was obscur- ed and lost; but collected them into a separate body, by which means their authority was enhan- ced, and sufficient weight thrown into their scale. There was, indeed, from the beginning, a kind of doubtful separation, which, like the flaws in a piece of iron, indicated that, the aristocratical party, and that of the commonalty, were not perfectly one, thongh they were not actually divided: but the ambition of Pericles and Thucydides, and the contest betvvt-en them, had so extraordinary an effect upon the city, that it was quite broken in two, and one part was called the people, and the other the nobility. For this reason Pericles, more than ever, gave the people the reins, and en- deavored to ingratiate himself with them, contri- ving always to have some show, or play, or feast, or procession in the city, and to amuse it with the politest pleasures. As another means of employing their attention, he sent out sixty galleys every year, manned for eight months, with a considerable number of the citizens, who were both paid for their service and improved themselves as mariners. He likewise sent a colony of a thousand men to the Cbersone- sus, five hundred to Naxos, two hundred and fifty to Andros, a thousand into the country of the Bisaltae in Thrace, and others into Italy, who set- tled in Sybaris, and changed its name to Thurii. These things he did, to clear the city of a useless multitude, who were very troublesome when they had nothing to do; to make provision for the most necessitous; and to keep the allies of Athens in awe, by placing colonies like so many garrisons in their neighborhood. That which was the chief delight of the Athe- nians and the wonder of strangers, and which alone serves for a proof that the boasted power and opulence of ancient Greece is not an idle tale, was the magnificence of the temples and public edi- fices. Yet no part of the conduct of Pericles moved the spleen of his enemies more than this. In their accusations of him to the people, they insisted, "That he had brought the g-reatest disgrace upon the Athenians by removing the public treasures of Greece from Delos and taking them in'o his own custody. That he had not left himself even the specious apology, of having caused the money to be brought to Athens for its greater security, and to keep it from being seized by the barbarians: That Greece must needs consider it as the highest insult, and an act of open tyranny, when she saw the money she had been obliged to contribute to- ward the war lavished by the Athenians in gilding their city, and ornamenting it with statues, and temples that cost a thousand talents,* as a proud and vain woman decks herself out with jewels." Pericles answered this charge by observing, "That they were not obliged to give the allies any account of the sums they had received, since they had kept the barbarians at a distance, and effectually defended the allies, who had not furnished either horses, ships, or men, but only contributed money, which is no longer the property of the giver, but of the receiver, if he performs the conditions on which it is received. That, as the state was pro- vided with all the necessaries of war, its superflu- ous wealth should be laid out on such works as, when executed, would be eternal monuments of * The Parthenon, or temple of Minerva, is said to have smt a thousand talents. its glory, and which, during their execution, would diffuse a universal plenty; for as so many kinds of labor, and such a variety of instruments' and materials were requisite to these undertakings, every art would be exerted, every hand employed, almost the whole of the city would be in pay, and be at the same time both adorned and supported by itself." Indeed, such as were of a proper age and strength, were wanted for the wars, aud well rewarded for their services; and as for the me- chanics and meaner sort of people, they went not without their share of the public money, nor yet had they it to support them in idleness. By the constructing of great edifices, which required many arts, and a long time to finish them, they had equal pretensions to be considered out of the treasury (though they stirred not out of the city) with the mariners and soldiers, guards and garri- sons. For the different materials, such as stone, brass, ivory, gold, ebony, and cypress, furnished employment to carpenters, masons, braziers, gold- smiths, painters, turners, and other artificers; the conveyance of them by sea employed merchants and sailors, and by land, wheelwrights, wagoners, carriers, rope-makers, leather-cutters, paviors, and iron founders, and every art had a number of the lower people ranged in proper subordination to execute it like soldiers under the command of a general. Thus by the exercise of these different trades, plenty was diffused among persons of every rank and condition. Thus works were raised of an astonishing magnitude, and inimitable beauty and perfection, every architect striving to surpass the magnificence of the design with the elegance of the execution; yet still the most wonderful circum- stance was the expedition with which they were completed. Many edifices, each of which seems to have required the labor of several successive ages, were finished during the administration of one prosperous man. It is said, that when Agatharcus the painter valued himself upon the celerity and ease with which he dispatched his pieces, Zeuxis replied, "If I boast, it shall be of the slowness with which I finish mine." For ease and speed in the exe- cution seldom give a work any lasting importance or exquisite beauty; while, on the other hand, the time which is expended in labor, is recovered and repaid in the duration of the performance. Hence we have the more reason to wonder that the structures raised by Pericles should be built in so short a time, and yet built for ages: for as each of them, as soon as fiuished, had the venerable air of antiquity; so, now they are old, they have the freshness of a modern building. A bloom is dif- fused over them, which preserves their aspect un- tarnished by time, as if they were animated with a spirit of perpetual youth and unfading elegance. Phidias was appointed by Pericles superintend- ent of all the public edifices, though the Athenians had then other eminent architects and excellent workmen. The Parthenon, or temple of Pallas^ whose dimensions had been a hundred feet square,1 was rebuilt by Callicrates and Ictinus. Corcebua began the temple of Initiation at Eleusis, but only lived to finish the lower rank of columns with their architraves. Metagenes, of the ward of Xy- pete, added the rest of the entablature, and the upper row of columns; andXenocles of Cholargus built the dome on the top. The long wall, the building of which Socrates says he heard Pericles propose * It was called Hccatompedon, because it. had been origi- nally a hundred feet square. And having been burned bjr the "Persians, it was rebuilt by Pericles, and retained that name after it was greatly enlarged. PERICLES. 125 to the people, was undertaken by Callicrates. j Cratiaus ridicules this work as proceeding very ; slowly. Stones upon stones the orator had pil'd With swelling words, but words will build no walls. The Odeum, or music theater, which was like- wise built, by the direction of Pericles, had within it many rows of seats and of pillars; the roof was of a conic figure, after the model (we are told) of the king of Persia's pavilion. Cratinus therefore rallies him again in his 1 play called Tkratt&: As Jove, an onion on his head he wears, As Pericles, a whole orchestra bears; Afraid of broils and banishment no more, He tunes the shell he trembled at before. Pericles at this time exerted all his interest to have a decree made, appointing a prize for the best performer in music during the Panathenaa; and, as he was himself appointed judge and distribu- tor of the prizes, he gave the contending artists directions in what manner to proceed, whether their performance was vocal, or on the flute or lyre. From that time the prizes in music were always contended for in the Odeum. The vestibule of the citadel was furnished iu five years by Miiesicles the architect. A wonder- ful event that happened while the work was in hand, showed that the goddess was uot averse to the work, but rather took it into her protection, and encouraged them to complete it. One of the best and most active of the workmen, missing his step, fell from the top to the bottom, and was bruised in such a manner, that his life was de- spaired of by the physicians. Pericles was great- ly concerned^at this accident; but in the midst of his affliction the goddess appeared to him in a dream, and informed him of a remedy, which he applied, and thereby soon recovered the patient. In memory of this cure, he placed in the citadel, near the altar (which is said to have been there before), a brazen statue of the Minerva of health. The golden statue of the same goddess,* was the workmanship of Piiidias, and his name is inscribed upon the pedestal (as we have already observed). Through the friendship of Pericles he had the di- rection of everything, and all the artists received his orders. For this the one was envied, and the other slandered; and it was intimated that Phidias received into his house ladies for Pericles, who came thither under pretense of seeing his works. The comic poets getting hold of this story, represented him as a perfect libertine. They accused him of an intrigue with the wife of Me- nippus, his friend, and lieutenant in the army, and because Pyrilampes, another intimate acquain- tance of his, hud a collection of curious birds, and particularly of peacocks, it was supposed that he kept them only for presents for those womeu who granted favors to Pericles. But what wonder is it, if men of a satirical turn daily sacrifice the characters of the great to that malevolent Demon, the envy of the multitude, when Stesimbrotus of Thasos has dared to lodge against Pericles that horrid and groundless accusation of corrupting his son's wife? So difficult is it to come at truth * This statue was of gold and ivory. Pausanius has given us a. description of it. The goddess was represented stand- ing, clothed in a tunic that reached down to the foot. On her (Kgis, or breast-plate, was Medusa's head in ivory, and victory. She held a spear in her hand; and at her feet lay a buckler, and a dragon, supposed to be Erichthonius. The sphynx was represented on the middle of her helmet, with a griffin on each side. This statue was thirty-nine feet high; the victory on the breast-plate was abont four cubits: aud furtj talents of gold were employed upon it. in the walk of history, since, if the writers live after the events they relate, they can be but im- perfectly informed of facts; and if they describe the persons and transactions of their own times, they are tempted by envy and hatred, or by inter- est and friendship, to vitiate and pervert the truth. The orators of Thucydides's party raised a cla- mor against Pericles, asserting that he wasted the public treasure, and brought the revenue to nothing. Pericles, in Ins defense asked the peo- ple in full assembly, "Whether they thought he liad expended too much?" upon their answering iu the affirmative, "Then be it," said he, " charged to rny account,* not yours, only let the new edifice be inscribed with my name, not that of the people of Athens." Whether it was that they admired the greatness of his spirit, or were ambitious to share the glory of such magnificent works, they cried out. "That he might spend as much as he pleased of the public treasure, without sparing it in the least." At last the contest came on between him and Thucydides, which of them should be banished by the ostracism. Pericles gained the victory, ban- ished his adversary, and entirely defeated his party. The opposition now being at an end, and unanimity taking place among ail ranks of people, Pericles became sole master of Athens, and its de- pendencies. The revenue, the army and navy, the islands and the sea, a most extensive territory, peopled by barbarians as well as Greeks, for- tified with the obedience of subject nations, the friendship of kings, and alliance of princes, were all at his command. From this time he became a different man; he was no longer so obsequious to the humor of the populace, which is as wild and as changeable as the winds. The multitude were not indulged or courted; the government in fact was not popular; its loose and luxuriant harmony was confined to stricter measures, and it assumed an aristocratical or rather monarchical form. He kept the pub- lic good in his eye, and pursued the straight path of honor. For the most part gently leading them by argument to a sense of what was right, and sometimes forcing them to comply with what was for their own advantage; in this respect imitating a good physician, who, in the various symptoms of a long disease, sometimes administers medicines tolerably agreeable, and, at other times, sharp and strong ones, when such alone are capable of re- storing the patient. He was the man that had the art of controlling those many disorderly passions which necessarily spring up among a people pos- sessed of so extensive a dominion. The two en- gines he worked with were hope and fear; with these, repressing their violence when they were too impetuous, and supporting their spirits when inclined to languor, he made it appear that rhetoric is (as Plato defined it) the art of ruling the minds of men, and that its principal province consists in moving the passions and affections of the soul, which like so many strings in a musical instru- * It appears from a passage in Thucydides, that the public stock of the Athenians amounted to nine thousand seven hundred talents (or one million eight hundred and seventy- five thousand, nine hundred and fifty pounds sterling), of which, Pericles had laid out in those public buildings three thousand seven hundred talents. It is natural, therefore, to ask, how he could tell the people that it should be at his own expense, especially since Plutarch tells us in the se- quel, that he had not in the least improved the estate left him by his father! To which the true answer probably is, that Pericles was politician enough to. know that the vanity of the Athenians would never let them agree that he should inscribe the new magnificent buildings with his name, in exclusion of theirs; or he might venture to ay anything, being secure of a majority of votes to be given as he pleated. 126 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. t, require tho touch of a masterly and delicate hand. Nor were the powers of eloquence alone sufficient, but (as Thucydides observes) the orator was a man of probity and unblemished reputation. Money could not bribe him; he was so much above the desire of it, that though he added great- ly to the opulence of the state, which he found liot inconsiderable, and though his power exceeded that of many kings and tyrants, some of whom have bequeathed to their posterity the sovereignty they had obtained, yet he added not one drachma to his paternal estate. Thucydides, indeed, gives this candid account of the power and authority of Pericles, but the comic writers abuse him in a most malignant manner, giving his friends the name of the neto pisislrattaa, and calling upon him to swear that he would never attempt to make himself absolute, since his authority was already much too great and overbearing in a free state. Teleclides says, the Athenians had given up to him The tributes of the states, the states themselves To bind, to loose; to build and to destroy; In peace, in war, to govern; nay, to rule Their very fate, like some superior thing. And this not only for a time, or during the prime and flower of a short administration; but for forty years together he held the pre-eminence, amid such men as Ephialtes, Leocrates, Myron- ides, Cimon, Tolmides, and Thucydides; and* con- tinued it no less than fifteen years after the fall and banishment of the latter. The power of the magistrates, which to them was but annual, all centered in him, yet still he kept himself untaint- ed by avarice. Not that he was inattentive to his finances; but on the contrary, neither negli- gent of his paternal estate, nor yet willing to have much trouble with it; as he had not much time to spare, he brought the management of it into such a method as was very easy, at the same time that it was exact. For he used to turn a whole year's produce into money altogether, and with this he bought from day to day all manner of necessa- ries at the market. This way of living was not agreeable to his sons when grown up, and the al- lowance he made the women did not appear to them a generous 'one: they complained of a pit- tance daily measured out with scrupulous economy which admitted of none of those superfluities so common in great houses and wealthy families, and could not bear to think of the expenses being so nicely adjusted to the income. The person who managed these concerns with so much exactness was a servant of his named Evangelius, either remarkably fitted for the pur- pose by nature, or formed to it by Pericles. An- axagoras, indeed considered these lower attentions as inconsistent with his wisdom. Following the dictates of enthusiasm, and wrapt up in sublime inquiries, he quitted his house, and left his lands untilled and desolate. But, in my opinion, there is an essential difference between a speculative and a practical philosopher. The former advances his ideas into the regions of science without Ihe assistance of anything corporeal or external; the latter endeavors to apply his great qualities to the use of mankind, and riches afford him not only necessary but excellent assistance. Thus it was with Pericles, who by his wealth was enabled to relieve numbers of the poor citizens. Nay, for wani of such prudential regards, this very Anax- agoras, we are told, lay neglected and unprovided for, insomuch that the poor old man had covered up his head, and was going to starve himself.* * It was customary among the ancients for a person wh wu determined to put an end to his life, to cover up hi But an account of it being brought to Pericles, he was extremely moved at it, ran immediately to him, expostulated, entreated; bewailing not so much the fate of his friend as his own, if his ad- ministration should lose so valuable a counselor. Anaxugoras,- uncovering his face, replied, "Ah, Pericles! those that have need of a lamp, take can? to supply it with oil." By this time the Lacedaemonians began to ex- press some jealousy of the Athenian greatness, and Pericles willing to advance it still higher, and to make the people more sensible of their impor- tance, and more inclinable to great attempts, procured an order, that all the Greeks, whereso- ever they resided, whether in Europe or in Asia, whether their cities were small or reat, should send deputies to Athens to consult about rebuild- ing the Grecian temples which the barbarians had burned, and about providing those sacrifices which had been vowed during the Persian war, for the preservation of Greece; and likewise to enter into such measures as might secure navigation, and maintain the peace. Accordingly twenty persons, each upward of fifty years of age, were sent with this proposal to the different states of Greece. Five went to the lonians and Dorians in Asia, and the islanders as far as Lesbos, and Rhodes; five to the cities above the Hellespont and in Thrace, as far as Byzantium; five to the inhabitants of Boeotia, Phocis, and Pelo- ponnesus, and from thence, by Locri along the ad- joining continent, to Acarnania and Ambracia, The rest were dispatched through Eubcea to the Greeks that dwelt upon Mount Oetra, and near the Maliiic bay, to the Phithiotse, the Achseans* and Thessalians, inviting them to r join in the council and new confederacy for the preservation of the peace of Greece. It took no effect, how- ever, nor did the cities send their deputies: the reason of which is said to be the opposition of the Lacedaemonians,! for the proposal was first rejected in Peloponnesus. But I was willing to give an account of it as a specimen of the great- ness of the orator's spirit, and of his disposition to form magnificent designs. His chief merit in war was the safety of his measures. He never willingly engaged in any un- certain or very dangerous expedition, nor had any ambition to imitate those generals who are ad- mired as great men, because their rash enterprises have been attended with success; he always told the Athenians, ''That as far as their fate depended upon him, they should be immortal." Perceiving that Tolmides, the son of Tolmseus, in confidence of his former success and military reputation, was preparing to invade Bcootiaatan unseasonable time, and that over and above the regular troops he had persuaded the bravest and most spirited of the Athe- nian youth, to the number of a thousand to go volun- teers in that expedition, he addressed him in pub- lic, and tried to divert him from it, making use, among the rest, of those well known words, " If you regard not the opinion of Pericles, yet wait head; whether he devoted himself to death for the service of his country, or being weary of his being, bade the world adieu. * By Achaaiis we are sometimes to understand the Greeks in general, especially in the writings of the poets; and sometimes the inhabitants of a particular district in Pelo- ponnesus: but neither of these can be the meaning in this place. We must here understand a people of Thessaly, called Achaans. t It is no wonder that the Lacedaemonians opposed this undertaking, since the giving way to it would have been acknowledging the Athenians as masters of all Greece. Indeed, the Athenians should not have attempted it, with- out an order or decree of the Amphictyons. PERICLES 127 at least for the advice ,>f time, who is the best of all counselors." This saying 1 for the present, gained no great applause: but when, a few days after, news was brought, that Tolrnides was de- feated and killed at Coronea,* together with many of the bravest citizens, it procured Pericles great respect and love from the people, who considered it as a proof, not only of his sagacity, but of his affection for his countrymen. Of his military expeditions, that to the Cherson- esus procured hirn most honor, because it proved very salutary to the Greeks who dwelt there. For he not only strengthened their cities with the ad- dition of a thousand able-bodied Athenians, but raised fortifications across the Isthmus from sea to sea ; thus guarding against the incursions of the Thracians who were spread about theChersonesus, and putting an end to those long and grievous wars, under which that district had smarted, by reason of the neighborhood of the barbarians, as well as to the robberies with which it had been in- fested by persons who lived upon the borders, or were inhabitants of the country. But the expedi- tion most celebrated among strangers, was that Uy sea around Peloponnesus. He set sail from Pegaa in the territories of Megara with a hundred ships of war, and not only ravaged the maritime cities. as Tolmides had done before him, but landed his forces and penetrated a good way up the country. The terror of his arms drove the inhabitants into their walled towns, all but the Sicyonians, who made head against him at Memea, and were de- feated in a pitched battle ; in memory of whicl victory he erected a trophy. From Achaia, a con- federate state, he took a number of rnen into his galleys, and sailed to the opposite side of the conti- nent ; then passing by the mouth of the Achelous he made a descent in Acarnania, shut up the CEne- ada? within their walls, and having laid waste the country, returned home. In the whole course of this affair, he appeared terrible to his enemies, anc to his countrymen an active and prudent com- mander ; for no miscarriage was committed, nor did even any unfortunate accident happen during the whole time. Having sailed to Pontus with a large and wel equipped fleet, he procured the Grecian cities there all the advantages they desired, and treated then with great regard. To the barbarous nations that surrounded them, and to their kings am princes, he made the power of Athens very re spectable, by showing with what security her fleets could sail, and that she was in effect mis- tress of the seas. He left the people of Sinoj thirteen ships under the command of Lamachus and a bod} 7 of men to act against Tirnesileos their tyrant. And when the tyrant and hi.s party were driven out, he caused a decree to be made, that a colony of six hundred Athenian volunteers should be placed in -Si nope, and put in possession of those houses and lands which had belonged to the ty- rants. He did not, however, give way to the wild de- sires of the citizens, nor would he indulge them, when, elated with their strength and good fortune, they talked of recovering Egypt,f and of attempt- * This defeat, happened in the second year of the eighty- third Olympiad, four hundred and forty-five years before the Christian era, and more than twenty years before the death f Pericles. t For the Athenians had been masters of Egypt, as we find in the second hook of Thncydides. They were driven out of it by Megahyzus, Artaxerxes's lieutenant, in the first year of the eightieth Olympiad, and it was only in the last year of the eighty-first "Olympiad that Pericles made that inccessfnl expedition about Pelooonnesus ; therefore it is ng the coast of Persia. Many were likewise at this ;irne possessed with the unfortunate passion for Sicily, which the orators of Alcibiades's party af- terward inflamed still more. Nay, some even dreamed of Hetruria* and Carthage, and not with- out some ground of hope, as they imagined, be- ause of the great extent of their dominions and the successful course of their affairs. But Pericles restrained this impetuosity of the citizens, and curbed their extravagant desire of conquest ; employing the greatest part of their forces in strengthening and securing their present acquisitions, and considering it as a matter of con- sequence to keep the Lacedaemonians within bounds; whom he therefore opposed, as on other occasions, so particularly in the sacred war. For when the Lacedaemonians, by dint of arms, had restored the temple to the citizens of Delphi, which had been seized by the Phocians, Pericles, imme- diately after the departure of the Lacedaemonians, marched thither, and put it into the hands of the Phocians again. And as the Lacedaemonians had engraved on the forehead of the brazen wolf the privilege which the people of Delphi had granted them of consulting the oracle first,}- Pericles caused the same privilege for the Athenians to be in- scribed on the wolf's right side. The event showed that he was right in confin- ing the Athenian forces to act within the bounds of Greece. For, in the first place, the Euboeans revolted, and he led an army against them. Soon after, news was brought that Megara had com- menced hostilities, and that the Lacedaemonian forces, under the command of king Plistonax, were upon the borders of Attica. The enemy offered him battle ; he did not choose, however, to risk an engagement with so numerous and resolute an army. But as Plistonax was very young, and chiefly directed by Cleandrides, a counselor whom the Ephori had appointed him on account of his tender age, he attempted to bribe that counselor, and succeeding in it to his wish, persuaded him to draw off the Peloponnesians from Attica. The soldiers dispersing and retiring to their respective homes, the Lacedaemonians were so highly in- censed, that they laid a heavy fine upon the king, and as he was not able to pay it, he withdrew from Lacedaemon. As for Cleandrides, who fled from justice, they condemned him to death. He was the father of Gylippus, who defeated the Athenians in Sicily, and who seemed to have de- rived the vice of avarice from hirn as an hereditary distemper. He was led by it into bad practices, for which he was banished with ignominy from Sparta, as we have related in the life of Lysander. In the accounts of this campaign, Pericles put down ten talents laid out^or a necessary use, and the people allowed it, without examining the mat- ter closely, or prying into the secret. According to some writers, and among the rest Theophrastus the philosopher, Pericles sent ten talents every year to Sparta, with which he gained all the ma- gistracy, and kept them from acts of hostility; not not strange that the Athenians, now in the hight of pros- perity, talked of recovering their footing in a country which they had so lately lost. * Hetruria seems oddly joined with Carthage; but we may consider that Hetruria was on one side of Sicily, and Carthage on the other. The Athenians, therefore^ after they had devoured Sicily in their thoughts, might think of extending their conquests to the countries on the right and left; in the same manner as king Pyrrhus indulged liis wild ambition to subdue Sicily, Italy, and Africa. t This wolf is said to have been consecrated and placed by the side of the great altar, on occasion of a wolf's killiBg a thief who had robbed the temple, and leading the I)i- phians to the place where the treasure lay. 128 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. that he purcnased peace with the money, but only gained time, that lie might have leisure to make preparations to carry on the war afterward with advantage. Immediately after the retreat of the Lacedsemo- nians, he turned his arms against the revolters, and passing over into Eubcea with fifty ships and five thousand men, he res! need the cities. He ex- pelled the Hippobota, persons distinguished by their opulence and authority among the Chal- cidians ; and having exterminated all the HesticR- ans, he gave their city to a colony of Athenians. The cause of this severity was their having taken an Athenian ship and murdered the whole crew. Soon after this, the Athenians and Lacedemo- nians having agreed upon a truce for thirty years, Pericles caused a decree to be made for an expedi- tion against Samos. The pretense he made use of was, tiiat the Samians, when commanded to put an end to the war with the Milesians, had refused it. But as he seems to have entered upon this war merely to gratify Aspasia, it may not be amiss to inquire by what art or power she captivated the greatest statesman, and brought even philoso- phers to speak of her so much to her advantage. It is agreed that she was by birth a Milesian,* and the daughter of Axiochus. She is reported to have trod in the steps of Thargelia,f who was de- scended from the ancient lonians, and to have re- served her intimacies for the great. This Thar- gelia, who to the charms of her person added a peculiar politeness and poignant wit, had many lovers among the Greeks, and drew over to the king of Persia's interest all that approached her : by whose means, as they were persons of eminence and authority, she sowed the seeds of the Median faction among the Grecian states. Some, indeed, say, that Pericles made his court to Aspasia only on account of her- wisdom and po- litical abilities. Nay, even Socrates himself some- times visited her along with his friends; and her acquaintances took their wives with them to hear her discourse, though the business that supported her was neither honorable nor decent, for she kept a number of courtesans in her house. ^Eschines informs us that Lysicles, who was a grazier,J and of a mean ungenerous disposition, by his inter- course with Aspasia, after the death of Pericles, became the most considerable man in Athens. And though Plato's Menexenus in the beginning is rather humorous than serious, yet thus much of history we may gather from it, that many Athe- nians resorted to her on account of her skill in the art of speak i ng. I should not, however, think that theattachment of Pericles was of so very delicate a kind. For, though his wife, who was his relation, and had been first married to Hipponicus, by whom she had Calliusthe rich, brought him two sons, Xanthippus Miletnm, a city in Ionia, was famous for producing per- sons of extraordinary abilities. t This Thargelia, by ber beauty, obtained the sovereignty of Thessaly. However, she came to an untimely end; for she was murdered by one of her lovers. t What the employments were to which this Lysicles wa* advanced, is nosvhere recorded. 5 It is not to be imagined, that Aspasia excelled in light and amorous discourses. Her discourses, on the contrary, were not more brilliant than solid. It was even believed by the most intelligent Athenians, and among them by Socrates himself, that she composed the celebrated funeral oration pronounced by Pericles, in honor of those that were slain in the Samian w;ir. It is probable enough, that Peri cles; undertook that wnr to avenge the quarrel of the Mile sians, at the suggestion of Aspasia, who was of Miletum who i* said to have accompanied him in that expedition and to have built a temple to perpetuate the memory of hi rictory. and Paralus, yet they lived so ill together, that they parted by consent. She was married to another, and he took Aspasia, for whom he had the tender- est regard; insomuch, that he never went out upon, business, or returned, without saluting her. In the comedies she is called the New Omphale, Deianira, and Juno. Cratiuus plainly calls her a prostitute, She bore this Juno, this Jlgpasia, Skill'd in the shameless trade, and every art Of wantonness. He seems also to have had a natural son by her; for he is introduced by Eupolis inquiring after him thus, Still lives the offspring of my dalliance? Pyronides answers, He lives, and might have borne the name of husband* Did he not dream that every bosom fair, Is not a chaste one. Such was the fame of Aspasia that. Cyrus, who contended with Artaxerxes for the Persian crown, gave the name of Aspasia to his favorite concubine, who before was called Milto. This woman was born in Phocis, and was the daughter of Hermoti- mus. When Cyrus was slain in the battle, she was carried to the king, and had afterward great influence over him. These particulars occurring to my memory as I wrote this life, I thought it would be a needless affectation of gravity, if not an offense against politeness, to pass them over in silence. I now return to the Samian war, which Pericles is much blamed for having promoted, in favor of the Milesians, at the instigation of Aspasia. The Milesians and Samians had been at war for the city of Priene, and the Samians had the advantage, when the Athenians interposed, and ordered them to lay down their arms, and refer the decision of the dispute to them: but the Samians refused to comply with this demand. Pericles, therefore, sailed with a fleet to Samos, and s;bolished the oligarchical form of government. He then took fifty of the principal men, and the same number of children, as hostages, and sent them toLemnoa. Each of these hostages, we are told, offered him a talent for his ransom; and those that were desirous to prevent the settling of a democracy among them would have given him much more * Pissuthnes the Persian, who had the interest of the Samians at heart, likewise sent him ten thousand pieces of gold, to prevail upon him to grant them moce favorable terms. Pericles, however, would re- ceive none of their presents, but treated the Sami- ans in the manner he had resolved on; and having established a popular government in the island, ha returned to Athens. But they soon revolted again, having recovered their hostages by some private measure of Pissuth- nes, and made new preparations for war. Peri- cles coming with a fleet to reduce them once more, found them not in a posture of negligence or despair, but determined to contend with him for the dominion of the sea. A sharp engage- ment ensued near the isle of Tragia, and Pericles gained a glorious victory, having with forty-four ships defeated seventy, twenty of which had so\~ diers on board. Pursuing his victory, he possessed himself of the harbor of Samos, and laid siege to the city * Pissuthnes, the son of Hystaspes, was governor of Sardis, and espoused the cause of the Samians of course because the principal persons among them were in the Pet* sian intereit. PERICLES. 129 They still retained courage enough to sally out and give him battle before the walls. Soon after a greater fleet came from Athens, and the Sarnians were entirely shut up: whereupon, Pericles took sixty galleys, and steered for the Mediterranean, with a design, as is generally supposed, to meet the Phoenician fleet that was coming to the relief of Sarnos, and to engage with it at a great distance from the island Stesimbrotus, indeed, says, he intended to sail for Cyprus, which is very impro- bable. But whatever his design was, he seerns to have committed an error. For, as soon as he was gone, Melissus, the son of Ithagenes, a man dis- tinguished as a philosopher, and at that time com- mander of the Samians, despising either the small number of ships that was left, or else the in- experience of their officers, persuaded his coun- trymen to attack the Athenians. Accordingly a battle was fought, and the Sarnians obtained the victory; for they made many prisoners, destroyed the greatest part of the enemy's fleet, cleared the seas, and imported whatever warlike stores and provisions they wanted. Aristotle writes, that Pericles himself had been beaten by the same Me- lissus, in a former sea-h'ght. The Samians returned upon the Athenian pri- soners the insult they had received, marked their foreheads with the figure of an owl, as the Athe- nians had branded them with a Samana, which is a kind of ship built low in the forepart, and wide and hollow in the sides. This form makes it light Quid expeditious in sailing; and it was called Sa- mana, from its being invented in Samos by Poly- crates the tyrant. Aristophanes is supposed to have hinted at these marks, when he says, The Samians are a lettered race. As soon as Pericles was informed of the mis- fortune that had befallen his army, he immediate- ly returned with succors,* gave Melissus battle, routed the enemy, and blocked up the town by building a wall about it; choosing to owe the con- quest of it rather to time and expense, than to purchase it with the blood of his fellow-citizens. But when he found the Athenians murmured at the time spent in the blockade, and that it was difficult to restrain them from the assault, he divided the army into eight parts, and ordered them to draw lots. That division which drew a white bean, were to enjoy themselves in ease and pleasure while the others fought. Hence it is said, that those who spend the day in feasting and mer- riment, call that a white day, from the white bean. Ephorus adds, that Pericles in this siege made use of battering engines, the invention of which he much admired, it being then a new one; and that he had Artemon the engineer along with him, who, on account of his lameness, was carried about in a litter, when his presence was required to direct the machines, and thence had the surname of Periphoretus. But Heraclides of Pontus con- futes this assertion, by some verses of Anacreon, tu which mention is made of Artemon Peri- phoretus, several ages before the Samian war, and these transactions of Pericles. And he tells as, this Artemon was a person who gave himself up to luxury, and was withal of a timid and effe- minate spirit; that he spent most of his time with- in doors, and had a shield of brass held over his head by a couple of slaves, lest something should fall upon him. Moreover, that if he happened to be necessarily obliged to go abroad, he was carried in a litter, which hung so low as almost to touch the ground, and therefore was called Periphoretus After nine months, the Samians surrendered- Pericles razed their walls, seized their ships, and laid a heavy fine upon them; part of which they paid down directly, the rest they promised at a set time, and gave hostages for the payment. Doris the Samian makes a melancholy tale of it, accus- ing Pericles and the Athenians of great cruelty, of which no mention is made by Thucydides, Epho- rus, or Aristotle. What he relates concerning the Samian officers and seamen, seems quite ficti- tious: he tells us, that Pericles caused them to ho brought into the market-place at Miletus, and to be bound to posts there for ten days together, at the end of which he ordered them, by that time In the most wretched condition, to be dispatched with clubs, and refused their bodies the honor of buriaL Duns, indeed, in his Histories, often goes beyond the limits of truth, even when not misled by any interest or passion; and therefore is more likely to have exaggerated the sufferings of his country, to make the Athenians appear in an odious light.* Pericles, at his return to Athens, after the re- duction of Samos, celebrated in a splendid man- ner the obsequies of his countrymen who fell in that war, and pronounced himself the funeral ora- tion usual on such occasions. This gained him great applause; and, when he came down from the rostrum, the women paid their respects to him, and presented him with crowns and chap>- lets, like a champion just returned victorious from the lists. Only Elpinice addressed him in terms quite different: "Are these actions, then, Pericles, worthy of crowns and garlands, which have de- prived us of many brave citizens; not in a war with the Phoenicians and Medes, such as my brother Cimon waged, but in destroying a city united to us both in blood and friendship ? * Pericles only smiled, and answered softly with this line of Archilochus, Why lavish ointments on a head that's grayl Ion informs us, that he was highly elated with this conquest, and scrupled not to say, "That Agamemnon spent ten years in reducing one of the cities of the barbarians, whereas he had taken the richest and most powerful city among the lonians in nine months." And indeed he had reason to be proud of this achievement; for the war was really a dangerous one, and the event uncertain* since, according to Thucydides, such was the power of the Samians, that the Athenians were in imminent danger of losing the dominion of the sea. Some time after this, when the Peloponnesran war was ready to break out, Pericles persuaded the people to send succors to the inhabitants of Corcyra, who were at war with the Corinthians;f which would be a means to fix in their interest an island whose naval forces were considerable, and might be of great service in case of a rupture with the Peloponnesians, which they had all tha reason in the world to expect would be soon* The succors were decreed accordingly, and Pericles sent Lacedsemonius to the son of Cimon with ten ships only, as if he designed nothing more than to disgrace him.t A mutual regard and friendr On his return, he received a reinforcement of fourscore hips, ai Thucydides tells us; or ninety, according to Dio- * Yet Cicero tells us, this Dnris was a careful historian, Homo in historia diligens. This historian lived in th* times of Ptolemy Philadelphut. t This war was commenced about the little territory o# Epidamnus, a city in Macedonia, founded by the Corcyri ans. t There seems to be very little color for this hard ass. tion. Thucydides says, that the Athenian* did not intend 130 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ship subsisted between Cimon's family and the Spartans; and he now furnished his son with but a few ships, and gave him the charge of this affair against his inclination, in order that, if nothing great or striking were effected, Lacedcemonius might be still the more suspected of favoring the Spartans. Nay, by all imaginable methods he endeavored to hinder the advancement of that family, representing the sons of Girnon, as by their very names, not genuine Athenians, but strangers and aliens, one of them being called Lacedaemonius, another Thessulus, and a third Eleus. They seem to have been all the sons of an Arcadian woman. Pericles, however, finding himself greatly blamed about these ten galleys, an aid by no means sufficient to answer the purpose of those that requested it, but likely enough to afford his enemies a pretense to accuse him, sent another squadron to Corcyra,* which did not ar- rive until the action was over. The Corinthians, offended at this treatment, complained of it at Lacedoemon; and the Mega- rensians at the same time alleged, that the Athe- nians would not suffer them to come to any mart or port of theirs, but drove them out, thereby in- fringing the common privileges, and breaking the oath they had taken before the general assembly of Greece. The people of JEgina, too, privately acquainted the Lacedaemonians with many en- croachments and injuries done them by the Athe- nians, whom they durst not accuse openly. And at this very juncture, Potidsea, a Corinthian co- lony, but subject to the Athenians, being besieged in consequence of its revolt, hastened on the war. However, as ambassadors were sent to Athens, and as Archidamus, king of the Lacedaemonians, endeavored to give a healing turn to most of the articles in question, and to paeify the allies, pro- bably no other point would have involved the Athenians in war, if they could have been per- suaded to rescind the decree against the Megaren- sians, and to be reconciled to them. Pericles, therefore, in exerting all his interest to oppose this measure, in retaining his enmity to the Me- garensians, and working up the people to the same rancor, was the sole author of the war. It is said, that when the ambassadors from La- cedsemon came upon this occasion to Athens.f Pericles pretended there was a law which forbade the taking down any tablet on which a decree of the people was written. " Then," said Polyarces, the Corcyrians any real assistance, but sent this small squa- dron to look on, while the Corinthians and Corcyrians weakened and wasted each other. * But this fleet, which consisted of twenty ships, pre- rented a second engagement, for which they were preparing. t The Lacedemonian ambassadors demanded, in the first. place, the expulsion of those Athenians who were styled execrable, on account of the old business of Cylon and his associates, because by his mother's side, Pericles was allied to the family of Megocles; they next insisted that the sie^e of Polidaa should be raised; thirdly, that the inhabitants of ^Egma should be left free; and lastly, that the decree made against the Megarensians, whereby they were forbid the ports and markets of Athens, on pain of death, should be revoked, and the Grecian states set at liberty, who were under the dominion of Athens. Pericles represented to the Athenians, that whatever the Lacedaemonians might pretend, the true ground of their resentment was the prosperity of the Athenian republic; that, nevertheless, it might be proposed, that the Athenians would reverse their decree against Megara, if the Lacedae- monians would allow free egress and regress, in their city to the Athenians and their allies; that they would leave all those states free, who were free at the making of the last peace with Sparta, provided the Spartans would also leave all states free who were under their dominion; and that fu- ture disputes should be submitted to arbitration. In case these offers should not prevail, be advised them to hazard a war. one of the ambassadors, "do not take it down, but turn the other side outward; there is no law against that." Notwithstanding the pleasantry of this answer, Pericles relented not in the least. He seems, indeed, to have had some private pique against the Megarensiaus, though the pretext he availed himself of in public was, that they had applied to profane uses certain parcels of sacred ground; and thereupon he procured a decree for a herald to be sent to Megara and Lacedaemon to lay this charge against the Megarensians. This decree was drawn up in a candid and conciliat- ing manner. But Anthemocritus, the herald sent with that commission, losing his life by the way, through some treachery (as was supposed), of the Magarensians, Charinus procured a decree, that an implacable and an eternal enmity should sub- sist between the Athenians and them; that if any Megarensian should set foot on Attic ground, he should be put to death; that to the oath which their generals used to lake, this particular should be added, that they would twice a-year make an inroad into the territories of Megara; and that Anthemocritus should be buried at the Thriasian gate, now called Dipylus. The Megarensians, however, deny their being concerned in the murder of Anthemocritus,* and lay the war entirely at the door of Aspasia and Pericles; alleging in proof those well-known verse's from the Acharnesis of Aristophanes: The god of wine had with his Thyrsus smote Some youths, who in their madness stole from Megara The prostitute Simtethia: in revenge Two females, liberal of their smiles, were stolen From our Jlspasia's train. It is not, indeed, easy to discover what was tha real origin of the war: but at the same time all agree, it was the fault of Pericles that the decree against Megara was not annulled. Some say, his firmness in that case was the effect of his pru- dence and magnanimity, as he considered thai demand o.:ly as a trial, and thought the least con- cession wruld be understood as an acknowledg- ment of weakness: but others will have it, that his treating the Lacedaemonians with so little ceremony, was owing to his obstinacy, and an ambition to display his power. But the worst cause of all,t assigned for the war, and which, notwithstanding, is confirmed by most historians, is as follows: Phidias the statuary had undertaken (as we have said) the statue of Minerva. The friendship and influ- ence lie had with Pericles exposed him to envy, and procured him many enemies, who willing to make an experiment upon him, what judgment the people might pass on Pericles himself, per- suaded Menon, one of Phidias's workmen, to place himself as a suppliant in the forum, and to entreiit the protection of the republic while he lodged an information against Phidias. The peo- ple granting his recyaest, and the affair coming to a public trial, the allegation of theft, which Menon brought against him, was shown to be groundless. For Phidias, by the advice of Peri- cles, had managed the matter from the first with so much art, that the gold with which the statue Thucydides takes no notice of this herald; and yet it ii so certain that the Megarensians were looked upon as the authors of the murder, that they were punished for it many ages after: for on that account the Emperor Adrian denied them many favors and privileges which he granted to the other cities of Greece. t Pericles, when he saw his friends prosecuted, was ap prehenstve of a prosecution himself, and therefore hastened on a rupture with the Peloponnesians, to turn the attention of the people to wm. PERICLES. 131 was overlaid, could easily be taken offand weighed; and Pericles ordered this to be done by the accu- sers. But the excellence of his work, and the envy arising thence, was the thing that ruined Phidias; and it was particularly insisted upon, that in his representation of the battle with the. Amazons upon Minerva's shield, he had introduced his own eih'gins as a bald old man taking up a great stone with both hands,* and a high-finished picture of Pericles fighting with an Amazon. The last was contrived witli so much art, that the hand, which, in lifting up the spear, partly cover- ed the face, seemed to be intended to conceal the likeness, which yet was very striking on both sides. Phidias, therefore, was thrown into prison where he died a natural death ;f though some say poison was given him by his enemies, who were desirous of causing Pericles to be suspected. As for the accuser Menon, he had an immunity from taxes granted him, at the motion of Glycon, and the generals were ordered to provide for his se- curity. About this time Aspasia was prosecuted for im- piety, by Hermippus a comic poet, who like- wise accused her of receiving into her house women above the condition of slaves, for the plea- sure of Pericles. And Diopithes procured a de- cree, that those who disputed the existence of the gods, or introduced new opinions about celestial appearances, should be tried before an assembly of the people. This charge was leveled first at Anaxagoras, and through him at Pericles. And as the people admitted it, another decree was pro- posed by Dracontides, that Pericles should give an account of the public money before the Prytanes, and that the judges should take the ballots from the altar,} and try the cause in the city. But Agnon caused the last article to be dropped, and instead thereof, it was voted that the action should be laid before the fifteen hundred judges, either for peculation, and taking of bribes, or simply for corrupt practices. Aspasia was acquitted, though much against the tenor of the law, by means of Pericles, who (ac- cording to ^Eschines) shed many tears in his ap- plication for mercy for her. He did not expect the same indulgence for Anaxagoras,^ and there- fore caused him to quit the city, and conducted him part of the way. And as he himself was be- come obnoxious to the people upon Phidias's ac- count, and was afraid of being called in question for it, he urged on the war, which as yet was un- certain, and blew up that flame, which, until then was stifled and suppressed. By this means he hoped to obviate the accusations that threatened him, and to mitigate the rage of envy, because such was his dignity and power, that in all important * They insisted that those modern figures impeached the .redit of the ancient history, which did so much honor to Athens, and iheir founder Theseus. t Others say that he was banished, and that in his exile, be made the famous statue of Jupiter at Olympia. t In some extraordinary cases, where the judges were to proceed with the greatest, exactness and solemnity, they were to take ballots or billets from the altar, and to inscribe their judgment upon them; or rather to take the black and the white bean. What Plutarch means by trying the cause in the city, is not easy to determine, unless by the city we are to understand the full assembly of the people. By the fifteen hundred judges mentioned in the next sentence, is probably meant tlie court of Hclitea, so called because the judges sat in the open air, exposed to the sun; for this court, on extra- ordinary occasions, consisted of that number. 5 Anaxagoras held the unity of God, that it was one all-wise Intelligence which raised the beautiftil structure of the world out of the Chaos. And if such was the opin- ion of the master, it was natural for the people to conclude, that his scholar Pericles was against the Polytheism of the Umei. affairs, and in every great danger, the republic could place its confidence in him alone. These are said to be the reasons which induced him to persuade the people not to grant the demands of the Lacedaemonians; but what was the real cause is quite uncertain. The Lacedaemonians, persuaded, that if they could remove Pericles out of the way, they should be better able to manage the Athenians, required them to banish all execrable persons from among them: and Pericles (as Thucydides informs us) was by his mother's side related to those that were pronounced execrable, in the affair of Cylon. The success, however, of this application, proved the reverse of what was expected by those that ordered it. Instead of rendering Pericles suspected, or involving him in trouble, it procured him the more confidence and respect from the people, when they perceived that their enemies both hated and dreaded him above all others. For the same reason he forewarned the Athenians, that if Ar- chidamus, when he entered Attica at the head of the Peloponnesians, and ravaged the rest of the country, should spare his estate, it must be owing either to the rights of hospitality that subsisted between them, or to a design to furnish his enemies with matter of slander; and therefore, from that hour he gave his lands and houses to the city of Athens. The Lacedaemonians and confederates accordingly invaded Attica with a great army under the conduct of Archidamus ; and laying waste all before them, proceeded as far as Achar- 1133,* where they encamped, expecting that the Athenians would not be able to endure them so near, but meet them in the field for the honor and safety of their country. But it appeared to Peri- cles too hazardous to give battle to an arrny of sixty thousand men (for such was the number of the Peloponnesians and Boeotians employed in the first expedition), and by that step to risk no less than the preservation of the city itself. As to those that were eager for an engagement, and uneasy at his slow proceedings, he endeavored to bring them to reason by observing, " That trees, when lopped, will soon grow again ; but when men are cut off, the loss is not easily repaired." In the meantime he took care to hold no assem- bly of the people, lest he should be forced to act against his own opinion. But as a good pilot, when a storm arises at sea, gives his directions, gets his tackle in order, and then uses his art, re- gardless of the tears and entreaties of the sick and fearful passengers; so Pericles, when he had se- cured the gates, and placed the guards in every quarter to the best advantage, followed the dictates of his own understanding, unmoved by the cla- mors and complaints that resounded in his ears. Thus firm he remained, notwithstanding the im- portunity of his friends, and the threats and accu- sations of his enemies; notwithstanding the many scoffs, and songs sung to villifv his character as a general, and to represent him as one who, in the most dastardly manner, betrayed his country to the enemy. Cleon,f too, attacked him with great acrimony, making use of the general resentment against Pericles, as a means to increase his owu popularity, as Hermippus testifies in these verses: Sleeps then, thou king of Satyrs, sleeps the spear, While thundering words make war? why boast thy prowess, Yet shudder at the sound of sharpened swords, Spite of the flaming Cleon? * The borough of Acharnae, was only fifteen hundred pacer from the city. t The same Cleon that Aristophanes satirized. By Mr harangues and political intrigues, he got himself appointed general. 132 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Pericles, however, regarded nothing of this kind, but calmly and silently bore all this disgrace and virulence. And though he fitted out an hundred ships, and sent them against Peloponnesus, yet he did not sail with them, but chose to stay and watch over the city, and keep the reins of government in his own hands, until the Peloponnesians were gone. In order to satisfy the common people, who were very uneasy on account of the war, he made a distribution of money and lands; for having expelled the inhabitants of jEgina, he divided the island by lot among the Athenians. Beside, the sufferings of the enemy afforded them some con- solation. The fleet sent against Peloponnesus ravaged a large tract of country, and sacked the small towns and villages: and Pericles himself made a descent upon the territories of Megara,* which he laid waste. Whence it appears, that though the Peloponnesians greatly distressed the Athenians by land, yet, as they were equally distressed by sea, they could not have drawn out the war to so great a length, but must soon have given it up (as Pericles foretold from the beginning), had not some divine power pre- vented the effect of human counsels. A pesti- lence at that time broke out,* which destroyed the flower of the youth and the strength of Athens. And not only their bodies, but their very minds were affected: for, as persons delirious with a fever set themselves against a physician or a father, so they raved against Pericles, and attempted his ruin; being persuaded by his enemies, that the sickness was occasioned by the multitude of out- dwellers flocking into the city, and a number of people stuffed together, in the night of summer, in small huts and close cabins, where they were forced to lived a lazy, inactive life, instead of breathing the pure and open air to which they had been accustomed. They would needs have it, that he was the cause of all this, who, when the war began, admitted within the walls such crowds of people from the country, and yet found no employment for them, but let them continue penned up like cattle to infect and destroy each other, without affording them the least relief or refreshment. Desirous to remedy this calamity, and withal in some degree to annoy the enemy, he manned a hundred and fifty ships, on which he embarked great numbers of select horse and foot, and was preparing to set sail. The Athenians conceived good hopes of success, and the enemy no less dreaded so great an armament. The whole fleet was in readiness, and Pericles on board his own gal- ley, when there happened an eclipse of *he sun. The sudden darkness was looked upon as an unfa- vorable omen, and threw them into the greatest consternation. Pericles observing that the pilot was much astonished and perplexed, took his cloak and having covered his eyes with it, asked him. " If he found any thing terrible in that, or consid- ered it as a sad presage?" Upon his answering in the negative, he said, " Where is the difference then, between this and the other, except that some- thing bigger than my cloak causes the eclipse?' But this is a question which is discussed in the tchools of philosophy. In this expedition Pericles performed nothing He did not undertake this expedition until autumn, when the Lacedaemonians were retired. In the winter of this year the Athenians solemnized in an extraordinarj manner the funerals of such as first died in the war. Peri cies pronounced the oration on that occasion, which Thucy* dides has preserved. t trep this plapue excellently described by Thucydides wno bad it himself. Lib. ii, prop. mil. worthy of so great an equipment. Ho laid to the sacred city of Epidaurus,* and at first with some rational hopes of success ; but the disternpei which prevailed in his army broke all his mea- sures; for it not only carried off his own men, but all that had intercourse with them. As tnis ill success set. the Athenians against him, he endeav- ored to console them under their losses, and to animate them to new attempts. But it was not in his power to mitigate their resentment, nor could they be satisfied, until they had shown themselves masters, by voting that he should be deprived of the command, and pay a fine, which by the lowest account, was fifteen talents ; some make it fifty. The person that carried on the prosecution against him, was Cleon, as Idomeneus tells us; or, ac- cording to Theophrastus, Simrnias; or Lacratides, if we believe Heraclides of Pontus. The public ferment, indeed, soon subsided ; the people quitting their resentment with that blow, as a bee leaves its sting in the wound : but his pri- vate affairs were in a miserable condition, for he had lost a number of his relations in the plague, and a misunderstanding had prevailed for some time in his family. Xanthippus, the eldest of his legitimate sons, was naturally profuse, and beside had married a young and expensive wife, daughter to Isander, and grand-daughter to Epylicus. He knew not how to brook his father's frugality, who supplied him but sparingly, and with a little at a time, and therefore sent to one of his friends, and took up money in the name of Pericles. When the man came to demand his money, Pericles not only refused to pay him, but even prosecuted him for the demand. Xanthippus was so highly enraged at this, that he began openly to abuse his father. First, he exposed and ridiculed the company he kept in his house, and the conversations he held with the philosophers. He said, that Epitim- ius the Pharsalian having undesignedly killed a horse with a javelin which he threw at the public games, his father spent a whole day in disputing with Protogorus, which might be properly deemed the cause of his death, the javelin, or the man that threw it, or the president of the games. Stesim- brotes adds, that it was Xanthippus who spread the vile report concerning his own wife and Pericles, and that the young man retained this implacable hatred against his father to his latest breath. He was carried off by the plague. Pericles lost his sister too at that time, and the greatest part of his relations and friends who were most capable of assisting him in the business of the state. Not- withstanding these misfortunes, he lost not his dignity of sentiment and greatness of soul. He neither wept, nor performed any funeral rites, nor was he seen at the grave of any of his nearest re- lations, until the death of Paralus, his last surviv- ing legitimate son. This at last subdued him. He attempted, indeed, then, to keep up his usual calm behavior and serenity of mind ; but, in putting the garland upon the head of the deceased, his firmness forsook him ; he could not bear the sad spectacle ; he broke out into loud lamentations, and shed a torrent of tears ; a passion which he had never before given way to. Athens made a trial, in the course of a year, of the rest of her generals and orators, and finding none of sufficient weight and authority for so im- portant a charge, she once more turned her eyea on Pericles, and invited him to take upon him the direction of affairs both military and civil. He had ' This Eiiidaurus was in Argeia. It was consecrated to Esculapios; and Plutarch calls it sacred, to distinguish it from another town of the same name in Laconia. PERICLES. 133 for some time shut himself up at home to indulge his sorrow, when Alcibiacles, and his other frienda persuaded him to make his appearance. The peo- ple making au apology for their ungenerous treat- ment of him, he re-assumed the reigns of govern- ment, and being appointed general, his first step was to procure the repeal of thi law concerning bastards, of which he himself had been the author; for he was afraid that his name and family would be extinct for want of a successor. The history of that law is as follows : Many years before, Per- icles, in the night of his power, and having several legitimate sons (as we have already related), caus- ed a law to be made, that none should be account- ed citizens of Athens, but those whose parents were both Athenians.* After this, the king of Egypt made the Athenians a present of forty thousand rnedimni of wheat, and as this was to be divided among the citizens, many persons were proceeded against as illegitimate upon that law, whose birth had never before been called in ques- tion, and many were disgraced upon false accusa- tions. Near five thousand were cast, and sold for slaves ;-f and fourteen thousand and forty appeared to be entitled to the privilege of citizens.^ Though it was unequitable and strange, that a law which had been put in execution with so much severity, should be repealed by the man who first proposed it ; yet the Athenians, moved at the late misfor- tunes in his family, by which he seemed to have suffered the punishment of his arrogance and pride, and thinking he should be treated with hu- manity, after he had felt the wrath of Heaven, per- mitted him to enroll a natural son in his own tribe, and to give him his own name. This is he who afterward defeated the Peloponnesians in a sea- fight at Arginusae, and was put to death by the people, together with his colleague.^ About this time Pericles was seized with the phigue; but not with such acute and continued symptoms as it generally shows. It was rather a lingering distemper, which, with frequent inter- missions, and by slow degrees, consumed his body, and impaired the vigor of his mind. Theophrastus has a disquisition in his Ethics, whether men's cha- racters may be changed with their fortune, and the eoul so affected with the disorders of the body as to lose her virtue; and there he relates, that Peri- cles showed to a friend, who came to visit him in his sickness, an amulet which the women had hung about his neck, intimating that he must be sick indeed, since he submitted to so ridiculous a piece of superstition. || * According to Plutarch's account, at the beginning of the life of Themistocles, this law was made before the time of Pericles. Pericles, however, might put it more strictly in execution than it had been before, from a spirit of oppo- sition to Cimon, whose children w ere only of the half-blood. t The illegitimacy did not reduce men "to a state of servi- tude: it only placed them in the rank of strangers. t A small number, indeed, at a time when Athens had dared to think of sending out colonies, humbling their neighbors, subduing foreigners, and even of erecting a uni- versal monarchy. The Athenians had appointed ten commanders on that occasion. After they had obtained the victory, they were tried, and eight of them were capitally condemned, of whom six that were on the spot were executed, and this natural son of Pericles was one of them. The only crime laid to their charge, wns, that they had not buried the dead. Xenophon, in his Grecian history,"has given a large account of this affair. It happened under the archonship of Callias, the second year of the ninety-third Olympiad, twenty-four years after the death of Pericles. Socrates, the philosopher, was at that time one of the Prytanes, and resolutely refused to do his office. And a little while after the madness of the people turned another way. H It does not appear by this that his understanding was weakened, since he knew the charm to be a ridiculous piece of superstition, and showed it to his friend as such; but only that in his extreme sickness he had not resolution When he was at the point of death his survi- ving friends and the pri icipal citizens sitting about his bed, discoursed together concerning his extra- ordinary virtue, and the great authority he had en- joyed, and enumerated his various exploits, and the number of his victories; for, while he was com- mander in chief, he had erected no less than nine trophies to the honor of Athens. These things they talked of, supposing that he attended not to what they said, but that his senses were gone. He took notice, however, of every word they had spoken, and thereupon delivered himself audibly as follows: " I am surprised, that while you dwell upon and extol these acts of mine; though fortune had her share in them, and many other generals have per- formed the like, you take no notice of the greatest and most honorable part of my character, thai no Athenian, through my means, ever put on mourn- ing." Pericles undoubtedly deserved admiration, not only for the candor and moderation which he ever retained, amidst the distractions of business and the rage of his enemies, but for that noble senti- ment which led him to think it his most excellent attainment, never t.o have given way to envy or anger, notwithstanding the greatness of his power, nor to have nourished an implacable hatred against his greatest foe. In my opinion, this one thing, I mean his mild and dispassionate behavior, his unblemished integrity and irreproachable conduct during his whole administration, makes his ap- pellation of Olympius, which would otherwise be vain and absurd, no longer exceptionable; nay, gives it a propriety. Thus, we think the divine powers, as the authors of all good, and naturally incapable of producing evil, worthy to rule and preside over the universe. Not in the manner which the poets relate, who, while they endeavor to bewilder us by their irrational opinions, stand convicted of inconsistency, by their own writing* For they represent the place which the gods in- habit, as the region of security and the most per- fect tranquillity, unapproached by storms, and unsullied with clouds, where a sweet serenity for- ever reigns, and a pure ether displays itself with- out interruption; and these they think mansions suitable to a blessed and immortal nature. Yet, at the same time, they represent the gods them- selves as full of anger, malevolence, hatred, and other passions, unworthy even of a reasonable man. But this by the bye. The state of public affairs soon showed the want of Pericles,* and the Athenians openly expressed their regret for his loss. Even those, who, in his lifetime, could but ill brook his superior power, as thinking themselves eclipsed by it, yet upon a trial of other orators and demagogues, after he was gone, soon acknowledged that where severity was required, no man was ever more moderate"; or if mildness was necessary, no man better kept up his dignity, than Pericles. And his so much envied authority, to which they had given the name of monarchy and tyranny, then appeared to have been the bulwark of the state. So much corruption and such a rage of wickedness broke out upon the commonwealth after his death, which he by proper restraints had palliated,! and kept from dangerous and destructive extremities! enough to refuse what he was sensible would do him no good. * Pericles died in the third year of the Pelcponne.>ian war, that is, in the last year of the eighty-seventh Olympiad, and 428 years before the Christian era. t Pericles did, indeed, palliate the distempers of the com- monwealth while he lived, but (as we have observed before) he sowed the seeds of them, by bribing the people with their own money; with which they were as much pleased as if it had been his. 134 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. FABIUS MAXIMUS. SUCH were the memorable actions of Pericles, as far as we have been able to collect them; and now we proceed to the life of Fabius Maximus. The first Fabius was the son of Hercules, by one of the nymphs, according to some authors; or, as others say, by a woman of the country, near the river Tiber. From him came the family of the Fabii, one of the most numerous and illus- trious in Rome.* Yet some authors write, that the first founders of this family were called Fodii,^ on account of their catching 1 wild beasts by means of pits; for a pit is still in Latin called Jovea, and the word fodere signifies to dig: but in time, two letters being changed, they had the name of Fabii. This family produced many eminent men, the most considerable of whom was Ridlus,* by the Romans sur named Maximus, or the Great, and from him the F;ibius Maximus of whom we are writing, was th fourth in descent. This last had the surname of Verrucosus, from a small wart on his upper lip. He was likewise called Ovicula, from the mildness and gravity of his behavior when a boy. Nay, his composed demeanor, and his silence, his caution in engag- ing in the diversions of the other boys, the slow- ness and difficulty with which he took what was taught him, together with the submissive manner in which he complied with the proposals of his comrades, brought him under the suspicion of stupidity and foolishness, with those that did not tnoroughly know him. Yet a few there were who peioeived that his composedness was owing to the solidity of his parts, and who discerned withal a magnanimity and lion-like courage in his nature. In a short time, when application to business drew him out, it was obvious even to the many, that his seeming inactivity was a command which he had of his passions, that his cautiousness was prudence, and that what had passed for heavi- ness and insensibility, was really an immovable firmness of soul. He saw what an important concern the administration was, and in what wars the republic was frequently engaged, and, there- fore, by exercise, prepared his body, considering its strength as a natural armor; at the same time, he improved his powers of persuasion, as the en- gines by which the people are to be moved, adapt- ing them to the manner of his life. For in his * The most numerous, for that family alone undertook the war against the Veientes, and sent out three hundred and six persons of their own name, who were all slain in that expedition. It was likewise one of the most illustrious; for the Fabii had borne the highest offices in the state, and two of them had been seven times consul. t Pliny's acoount of the matter is much more probable, viz. that they were called Fabii a Fabis, from their skill in raising beans; as several other families of note among the Romans were denominated from other branches of husband- ,-y. Indeed their first heroes tilled the ground with their own hands. J This Fabius Rtillus was five times consul, and gained several important victories over the Samnites, Tuscans, and other nations. It was not, however, from these great ac- tions (lint he obtained the surname of Maximus, but from his behavior in the censorship; during which he reduced the populace of Rome into four tribes, who before were dispersed among all the tribes in general, and by that means had very <rreat power in the assemblies. These were called Tribns '(frbnnxa. Liv. lib. ix, cap. 46. $ Uvicula signifies a little sheep. eloquence there was nothing of affectation, no empty, plausible elegance, but it was full of that good sense which was peculiar to him, and had a sententious force and depth, said to have resembled that of Thucydides. There is an oration of his still extant, which he delivered before the people, on occasion of his son's funeral, who died after he had been consul. Fabius Maximus was five times consul;* and in his first consulship was honored with a triumph for the victory he gained over the Ligurians; who, being defeated by him in a set battle, with the loss of a great number of men, were driven behind the Alps, and kept from such inroads and ravages as they had used to make in the neighboring provinces. Some years after, Hannibal, having invaded Italy t and gained the battle of Trebia, advanced through Tuscany, laying waste the country, and striking Rome itself with terror and astonishment This desolation was announced by signs and pro- digies, some familiar to the Romans, as that of thunder, for instance, and others quite strange and unaccountable. For it was said, that certain shields sweated blood, that bloody corn was cut at Antium, that red-hot stones fell from the air, that the Falerians saw the heavens open, and many billets fall,* upon one of which these words were very legible: Mars brandisficth his arms. But Caius Flaminius, then consul, was not discouraged by any of these things. He was, indeed, natural- ly a man of much fire and ambition, and, beside, was elated by former successes, which he had met with contrary to all probability; for, against the sense of the senate and his colleague, he had en- gaged with the Gauls and beaten them Fabius likewise paid but little regard to prodigies, as too absurd to be believed, notwithsanding the great effect they had upon the multitude. But being informed how small the numbers of the enemy were, and of the want of money, he advised the * Fabius was consul the first time in the year of Rome 521; and the fifth time in the tenth year of the second Punic war, in the year of Rome 545. t Here Plutarch leaves a void of fifteen years. It wa not, indeed, a remarkable period of the life of Fabius. Hannibal entered Italy in the year of Rome 535. He de- feated Scipio in the battle of Ticinus, before he b>at Sem- pronins in that of Trebia. t Plutarch misunderstood Livy, and of the two prodigiei which he mentions, made but one. Livy says, "At Faleri- urn the sky was seen to open, find in the voi.i space a great lijrht appeared. The lots at Frirneste shrunk of their own accord, and one of them dropped down, whereon was w:.t- ten. 'Mars brundishelli his word.' '' Liv. lib. x.\ii. These lots were bits of oak, handsomely wrought, with some an- cient characters inscribed upon them. When any came to consult them, the cutler in which they were kept, was open- ed, and a child having first snaken them together, drew out one from the rest, which contained the answer to the que- rist's demand. As to the lots being s-hnink, which Livy mentions, and which was considered as a bad omen, no doubt the priests had two sets, a .--mailer and a greater, which they played upon the people's superstition as they pleased. Cicero says, they were very little regarded in hi* time. Cic. dc Divinat, lib. ii. [f Fabius was not moved by those prodigies, it was not because he despised them (as his colleague did, who ac- cording to Livv, neither feared the gods nor took advice of men), but beca'use he hoped, by appeasing the anger of th* gods, to render the prodigies ineffectual. It was not Fabini, however, but Cn. Serviiius Geminus, who was colleague to Flaminius. F ABIUS M AXIMUS. 135 Romans to have patience; not to give battle to a man who led on an army hardened by many con- flicts for this very purpose; but to send succors to their allies, and to secure the towns that were in their possession, until the vigor of the enemy ex- pired of itself, like a flame for want of fuel. He could not, however, prevail upon Flaminius. That general declared he would never suffer the war to approach Rome, nor like Camillus of old, dispute within the walls who should be the mas- ter of the city. He, therefore, ordered the tri- bunes to draw out the forces, and mounted his horse, but was thrown headlong off,* the horse, without any visible cause, being seized with a fright and trembling. Yet he persisted in his re- solution of marching out to meet Hannibal, and drew up his army near the lake called Thrasy- menus, t in Tuscany. While the armies were engaged, there happened an earthquake, which overturned whole cities, changed the course of rivers, and tore off the tops of mountains: yet not one of the combatants was in the least sensible of that violent motion. Flamin- ius himself, having greatly signalized his strength and valor, fell; and with him the bravest of his troops; the rest being routed, a great carnage en- sued; full fifteen thousand were slain, and as many taken prisoners.} Hannibal was very desirous of discovering the body of Flaminius, that he might bury it with due honor, as a tribute to his bravery, but he could not find it, nor could any account be given what became of it. When the Romans lost the battle of Trebia, neither the generals sent a true account of it, nor the messenger represented it as it was; both pre- tended the victory was doubtful. But as to the last, as soon as the praetor Pomponius was ap- prised of it, he assembled the people, and without disguising the matter in the least, made this de- claration; "Romans! we have lost a great battle; our army is cut to pieces, and Flaminius the con- sul is slain; think, therefore, what is to be done for your safety." The same commotion which a furious wind causes in the ocean, did these words of the prastor produce in so vast a multitude. In the first consternation they could not fix upon anything: but at length, all agreed that affairs re- quired the direction of an absolute power, which they called the dictatorship, and that a man should be pitched upon for it, who would exercise it with steadiness and intrepidity. That such a man was Fabius Maximus, who had a spirit and dignity of manners equal to so great a command, and, be- side, was of an age in which the vigor of the body is sufficient to execute the purposes of the mind, and courage is tempered with prudence. Pursuant to these resolutions, Fabius was chosen * This fall from his horse, which was considered as an ill omen, was followed by another as bad. When the ensign attempted to pull his standard out of the ground, in order to march, he had not strength enough to do it. But where is die wonder, says Cicero, to have a horse take fright, or to find a standard-bearer feebly endeavoring to draw up the standard, which he had, perhaps purposely, struck deep into the ground? t Now the lake of Perugia. j Notwithstanding this complete victory, Hannibal lost only fifteen hundred men; for he fought the Romans at great advantage, having drawn them into an ambuscade between the hills of Cortona and the lake Thrasymenus. JLiivy and Valerius Maximus make the number of prisoners only six thousand; but Polybius says, they were much more numerous. About ten thousand 'Bomans, most of them wounded, made their escape, and took their route to Rome, where few of them arrived, the rest dying of their wounds before they reached the capital. Two mothers were so transported with joy, one at the gate of the city, when she law her son unexpectedly appear, and the other at home, wiiere she found her son, that they both expired on the spot. dictator,* and he appointed Lucius Minucius his general of the horse. f But first he desired per- mission of the senate to make use of a horse when in the field. This was forbidden by an ancient law, either because they placed their greatest strength in the infantry, and therefore chose that the commander-in-chief should be always posted among them; or else because they would have the dictator, whose power in all other respects was very great, and, indeed, arbitrary, in this case at least appear to be dependent upon the people. In the next place, Fabius, willing to show the high authority and grandeur of his office, in order to j make the people more tractable and submissive, appeared in public with twenty-four lictors carry- ing the fasces before him; and when the surviving consul met him, he sent one of his officers to order him to dismiss his lictors and the other ensigns of his employment, and to join him as a private man. Then beginning with an act of religion, which is the best of all beginnings, and assuring the people that their defeats were not owing to the cowardice of the soldiers, but to the general's neg- lect of the sacred rites and auspices, he exhorted them to entertain no dread of the enemy, but by extraordinary honors to propitiate the gods. Not that he wanted to infuse into them a spirit of su- perstition, but to confirm their valor by piety, and to deliver them from every other fear, by a sense of the Divine protection. On that occasion he consulted several of those mysterious books of the Sibyls, which contained matters of great use to the state; and it is said, that some of the prophe- sies found there, perfectly agreed with the cir- cumstances of those times: but it was not lawful to divulge them. However, in full assembly, he vowed to the gods a ver sacrum, that is, all the young which the next spring should produce, on the mountains, the fields, the rivers, and meadows of Italy, from the goats, the swine, the sheep, and the cows. He likewise vowed to exhibit the great games in honor of the gods, and to expend upon those games three hundred and thirty-three thou- sand sesterces, three hundred and thirty- three den- arii, and one third of a denarius; which sum in our Greek money is eighty-three thousand five hundred and eighty-three drachmas and two oboli. What his reason might be for fixing upon that precise number is not easy to determine, unless it were on account of the perfection of the number three, as being the first of odd numbers, the first of plurals, and containing in itself the first dif- ferences, and the first elements of all numbers. Fabius having taught the people to repose themselves on acts of religion, made them more easy as to future events. Foi his own part, he placed all his hopes of victory in himself, believ- ing that Heaven blesses men with success on account of their virtue and prudence; and there- fore he watched the motions of Hannibal, not with a design to give him battle, but, by length of time, to waste his spirit and vigor, and gradu- ally to destroy him by means of his superiority in men and money. To secure himself against the enemy's horse, he took care to encamp above them on high and mountainous places. When * A dictator could not be regularly named but by the snr viving consul, and Servilius being with the army, the people appointed Fabius by their own authority, with the title of prodictator. However, the gratitude of Rome allowed his descendants to put dictator instead of prodictator in the Iu4 of his titles. t According to Polybius and Livy, his name was not L cius, but Marcus Minucius; nor was he pitched upqu b/ Fabius, but by the people. 136 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. they sat still, he did the same; when they were in motion, he showed himself upon the hights, at such a distance as not to be obliged to fight against his inclination, and yet near enough to keep them in perpetual alarm, as if, amidst his arts to gain time, he intended every moment to give them battle. These dilatory proceedings exposed him to con- tempt among the Romans in general, and even in his own army. The enemy too, excepting Han- nibal, thought him a man of no spirit. He alone was sensible of the keenness of Fabius, and of the manner in which he intended to carry on the war, and therefore was determined, if possible, either by stratagem or force, to bring him to battle, concluding that otherwise the Carthagini- ans must be undone: since they could not decide the matter in the field, where they had the ad- vantage, but must gradually wear away and be reduced to nothing, when the dispute was only who should be superior in men and money. Hence it was that he exhausted the vvlfole art of war, like a skillful wrestler, who watches every opportunity to lay hold of his adversary. Some- times he advanced and alarmed him with the ap- prehensions of an attack; sometimes by march- ing and countermarching he led him from place to place, hoping to draw him from his plan of caution. But as he was fully persuaded of its utility, he kept immovably to his resolution. Minucius, his general of horse, gave him, how- ever, no small trouble, by his unseasonable courage and heat, haranguing the army, and filling them with a furious desire to come to action, and a vain confidence of success. Thus the soldiers were brought to despise Fabius, and by way of derision to call him the pedagogue, of Hannibal,* while they extolled Minucius as a great man, and one that acted up to the dignity of Rome. This led Minucius to give a freer scope to his arrogance and pride, and to ridicule the dictator for encamping constantly upon the mountains, ** As if he did it on purpose that his men might more clearly behold Italy laid waste with fire and eword." And hs asked the friends of Fabius, " Whether he intended to take his army up into heaven, as he had bid adieu to the world below, or whether he would screen himsell from the enemy with clouds and fogs?" When the dictator's friends brought him an account of these asper- sions, and exhorted him to wipe them oft' by risking a battle, " In that case," said he, " I should be of a more dastardly spirit than they represent me, if through fear of insults and re- proaches, I should depart from my own resolu- tion. But to fear for my country is not a disa- greeable fear. That man is unworthy of such a command as this, who sinks under calumnies and slanders, and complies with the humor of those whom he ought to govern, and whose folly and rashness it is his duty to restrain." After tin?, Hannibal made a disagreeable mis- take. For intending to lead his army farther from Fabius, and to move into a part of the country that would afford him forage, he ordered the guides, immediately after supper, to conduct him to the plains of Casinum.f They taking the * For the office of a pedagogue of old was (as the name implies), to attend the children, to carry them up and down, aud conduct them home again. t Hannibal had ravaged Samnium, plundered the territory flf Beneventum, a Roman colony, and laid siege to Tilesia", a city at the foot of the Appenines. But finding that nei- ther the ravaging of the country, nor even the taking of ome cities could make Fabius quit his eminences, he re- olved to make use of a stronger bait, which was to enter word wrong, by reason of his barbarous pronun- ciation of it, led his forces to the borders of Cam- pania, near the town of Casalium, through which runs the river Lothronus, which the Romans call Vulturnus. The adjacent country is surrounded with mountains, except only a valley that stretches out to the sea. Near the sea the ground is very marshy, and full of large banks of sand, by rea- son of the overflowing of the river. The sea is there very rough and the coast almost impracti- cable. As soon as Hannibal was entered into this val- ley, Fabius availing himself of his knoweldge of the country, seized the narrow outlet, and placed in it a guard of four thousand men. The main body of his army he posted to advantage on the surrounding hills, and with the lightest and most active of his troops, fell upon the enemy's rear, and put their whole army in disorder, and killed about eight hundred of them. Hannibal then wanted to get clear of so disad- vantageous a situation; and, in revenge of the mistake the guides had made, and the danger they had brought him into, he crucified them all. But not knowing how to drive the enemy from the hights they were masters of, and sensible beside of the terror and confusion that reigned among his men, who concluded themselves fallen into a snare, from which there was no escaping, he had recourse to stratagem. The contrivance was this. He caused two thousand oxen, which he had in his camp, to have torches and dry bavins well fastened to their horns. These, in the night, upon a signal given, were to be lighted, and the oxen to be driven to the mountains, near the narrow pass that was guarded by the enemy. While those that had it in charge were thus employed, he decamped, and marched slowly forward. So long as the fire wag moderate, and burned only the torches and bavins, the oxen moved softly on, as they were driven up the hills; and the shepherds and herdsmen on the adjacent hights took them for an army that marched in order with lighted torches. But when their horns were burnt to the roots, and the fire pierced to the quick, terrified and mad with pain, they no longer kept any certain route, but run up the hills, with their foreheads and tails flaming, and setting everything on fire that came in their way. The Romans who guarded the pass were astonished; for they appeared to them like a givat number of men running up and down with torches, which scattered fire on every side. la their fears, of course, they concluded, that they should be attacked and surrounded by the enemy; for which reason they quitted the pass, and fled to the main body in the camp. Immediately Hannibal's light-armed troops took possession of the outlet, and the rest of his forces marched safely through, loaded with a rich booty. Fabius discovered the stratagem that same night, for some of the oxen, as they were scattered about, fell into his hands: but, for fear of an ambush in the dark, he kept his men all night under arms in the camp. At break of day, he pursued the enemy, came up with their rear, and attacked them; seve- ral skirmishes ensued in the difficult passes of the mountains, and Hannibal's army was put in some disorder, until he detached from his van a body of Campania, the finest country in Italy, and lay it waste nndei the dictator's eyes, hoping by that means to bring him ta an action. But by the mistake which Plutarch mentions, his guides, instead of conducting him to the plains of Casi- num, led him into the narrow passes of Casilinum, which divides Samnium from Campania. FABIUS MAXIMUS. 137 Spaniards, light and nimble men, who were ac- customed to climb such nights. These falling upon the heavy-armed Romans, cut off a consid- erable number of them, and obliged Fabius to retire. This brought upon him more contempt and calumny than ever; for having renounced open force, as if he could subdue Hannibal by conduct and foresight, he appeared now to be worsted at his own weapons. Hannibal, to in- cense the Romans still more against him, when he came to his lands, ordered them to be spared, and set a guard upon them to prevent the commit- ting of the least injury there, while he was ravag- ing all the country around him, and laying it waste with fire. An account of these things being brought to Rome, heavy complaints were made thereupon. The tribunes alleged many arti- cles of accusation against him, before the people, chiefly at the instigation of Metilius, who had no particular enmity to Fabius, but being strongly ill the interest of Minucius, the general of the horse, whose relation he was, he thought by de- pressing Fabius to raise his friend. The senate, too, was offended, particularly with the terms he had settled with Hannibal for the ransom of prisoners. For it was agreed between them, that the prisoners should be exchanged, man for man, and that if either of them had more than the other, he should release them for two hundred and fifty drachmas each man;* and upon the whole ac- count there remained two hundred and forty Romans unexchanged. The senate determined not to pay this ransom, and blamed Fabius as taking a Btep that was against the honor and interest of the state, in endeavoring to recover men whom cowar- dice had betrayed into the hands of the enemy. When Fabius was informed of the resentment of his fellow-citizens, he bore it with invincible patience; but being in want of money, and not choosing to deceive Hannibal, or to abandon his countrymen in their distress, he sent his son to Rome, with orders to sell part of his estate, and bring him the money immediately. This was punctually performed by his son, and Fabius re- deemed the prisoners, several of whom afterward offered to repay him, but his generosity would not permit him to accept it. After this he was called to Rome by the priests, to assist at some of the solemn sacrifices, and therefore was obliged to leave the army to Minu- cius; but he both charged him as dictator, and used many arguments and entreaties with him as a friend, not to come to any kind of action. The pains he took were lost upon Minucius, for he immediately sought occasions to fight the enemy. And observing one day that Hannibal had sent out great purt of his army to forage, he attacked those that were left behind, and drove them within their entrenchments, killing great numbers of them, so that they even feared he would storm their camp: and when the rest of the Carthagin- ian forces were returned, he retreated without loss.f This success added to his temerity, and increased the ardor of his soldiers. The report of it soon reached Rome, and the advantage was represented as much greater than it really was. When Fabius was informed of it, he said, he dreaded nothing more than the success of Minucius. But the people, mightily elated with the news, Livy calls this nrgenti pondo bina et selibras in militem; whence we learn that the Roman pondo, or pound weight of tilver, was equivalent to one hundred Grecian drachmas or a mina. t Others say, that he lost five thousand of his men, and tfiat the enemy's loss did not exceed his by more than a thousand. ran to the forum; and their tribune Metilius ha- rangued them from the rostrum, highly extolling Minucius, and accusing Fabius now, not of cowardice and want of spirit, but of treachery. He endeavored also to involve the principal men in Rome in the same crime, alleging, " That they had originally brought the war upon Italy, for the destruction of the common people, and had put the commonwealth under the absolute direction of one man, who, by his slow proceedings, gave Hannibal opportunity to establish himself in the country, and to draw fresh forces from Carthage, in order to effect a total conquest of Italy." Fabius disdained to make any defense against these allegations of the tribune: he only declared that "He would finish the sacrifice and other re- ligious rites as soon as possible, that he might return to the army and punish Minucius for fighting contrary to his orders." This occasioned a great tumult among the people, who were alarmed at the danger of Minucius. For it is in the dictator's power to imprison and inflict capital punishment without form of trial : and they thought that the wrath of Fabius now provoked, though he was naturally very mild and patient, would prove heavy and implacable. But fear kept them all silent, except Metilius, whose per- son, as tribune of the people, could not be touch- ed (for the tribunes are the only officers of state that retain their authority after the appointing of a dictator). Metilius entreated, insisted that the people should not give up Minucius, to suffer, perhaps, what Manlius Torquatus caused his own son to suffer, whom he beheaded when crowned with laurel for his victory; but that they should take from Fabius his power to play the tyraut, and leave the direction of affairs to one who was both able and willing to save his country. The people, though much affected with this speech, did not venture to divest Fabius of the dictatorship, notwithstanding the odium he had incurred, but decreed that Minucius should share the command with him, and have equal authority in conducting the war, a thing never before practiced in Rome There was, however, another instance of it soon after upon the unfortunate action of Canna3: for Marcus Junius the dictator being then in the field, they created another dictator, Fabius Buleo, to fill up the senate, many of whose members were slain in that battle. There was this dif- ference, indeed, that Buteo had no sooner en- rolled the new senators, than he dismissed his lie- tors and the rest of his retinue, and mixed with the crowd, stopping some time in the forum about his own affairs as a private man. When the people had thus invested Minucius with a power equal to that of the dictator, they thought they should find Fabius extremely hum- bled and dejected; but it soon appeared that they knew not the man. For he did not reckon their mistake any unhappiness to him; but as Diogenes, the philosopher, when one said, "They deride you," answered well, "But I am not derided." accounting those only to be ridiculed, who feel the ridicule and are discomposed at it; so Fabius bore without emotion all that happened to himself, herein confirming that position in philosophy, which affirms that a wise and good man can suffer no disgrace. But he was under no small concern for the public, on account of the unadvised proceedings of the people, who had put it in the power of a rash man to indulge his indiscreet ambition for military distinction. And apprehensive that Minucius, infatuated with ambition, might take some fatal step, he left Rome very privately. Upon his arrival at the camp, he found the or- 138 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. rogance of Minucius grown to such a hight, that it was wo longer to be endured. Fabius, therefore, refused to comply with his demand of having the army under his orders every other day, and, in- stead of that, divided the forces with him, choos- ing- rather to have the full command of a part, than the direction of the whole by turns. He therefore took the first and fourth legions him- self, leaving the second and third to Minucius; and the confederate forces were likewise equally divided. Minucius valued himself highly upon this, that the power of the greatest and most arbitrary office in the state was controlled and reduced for his sake. But Fabius put him in mind, "That it was not Fabius whom he had to contend with, but Hannibal: that if he would, notwithstanding, consider his colleague as his rival, he must take care lest he who had so successfully carried his point with the people, should one day appear | to have their safety and interest less at heart than the man, v/ho had been so ill treated by them." Minucins considering this as the effect of an old man's pique, and taking the troops that fell to his lot, marked out a separate camp for them.* Han- nibal was well informed of all that had passed, and watched his opportunity to take advantage of it. There was a hill betwixt him and the enemy, not difficult to take possession of, which yet would afford an army a very safe and commodious post. The ground about it, at a distance, seemed quite level and plain, though there were in it several ditches and hollows: and therefore, though he might privately have seized that post with ease, yet be left it as a bait to draw the enemy to an engage- ment. But as soon as he saw Minucius parted from Fabius, he took an opportunity in the night to place a numberf of men in those ditches and hollows: and early in the morning he openly sent out a small party, as if designed to make them- selves masters of the hill, but really to draw Minu- cius to dispute it with them. The event answered j his expectation. For Minucius sent out his light- armed troops first, then the cavalry, and at last, when he saw Hannibal send reinforcements to his men upon the hill, he marched out with all his forces in order of battle, and attacked with great vigor the Carthaginians, who were marking out a camp upon the hill. The fortune of the day was doubtful, until Hannibal, perceiving that the enemy had fallen iftto the snare, and that their rear was open to the ambuscade, instantly gave the signal. Hereupon, his men rushed out on all sides, and advancing with loud shouts, and cutting in pieces the hindmost ranks, they put the Ro- mans in disorder and terror inexpressible. Even the spirit of Minucius began to shrink; and he looked first upon one officer and then upon an other, but not one of them durst stand his ground; they all betook themselves to flight, and the flight itself proved fatal. For the Numidians, now vic- torious, galloped round the plain, and killed those whom they found dispersed. Fabius was not ig- norant of the danger of his countrymen. Fore- seeing what would happen, he kept his forces un- der arms, and took care to be informed how the action went on: nor did he trust to the reports of others, but he himself looked out from an emi- nence not far from his camp. When he saw the army of hi.s colleague surrounded and broken, and the cry reached him, not like that of men stand- ing the charge, but of persons flying in great dis- may,?: he smote upon his thigh, and with a deep * About fifteen hundred paces from Fabins. t Five hundred horse and five thousand foot. Polyb. \ Homer mentions the custom of smiting upon the thigh sigh said to his friends about him, " Ye gods! how much sooner than I expected, and yet later than his indiscreet proceedings required, has Minucius ruined himself!" Then, having commanded the standard-bearers to advance, and the whole army to follow, he addressed them in these words: "Now, my brave soldiers, if any one has a regard for Marcus Minucius, let him exert himself; for he deserves assistance for his valor, and the love he bears his country. If, in his haste to drive out the enemy, he has committed any error, this is not a time to find fault with him." The first sight of Fabius frightened away the Numidians, who were picking up stragglers in the field. Then he attacked those who were charging the Romans in the rear. Such as made resistance he slew: but the greatest part retreated to their own army, before the communication was cut off, lest they should themselves be surrounded in their turn. Hannibal seeing this change of fortune, and finding that Fabius pushed on through the hottest of the battle, with a vigor above hio years> to come up to Minucius upon the hill, pt;t an end to the dispute, and having sounded a retreat, re- tired into his camp. The Romans, en their part, were not sorry when the action was over. Han- nibal, as he was drawing off, is reported to have said smartly to those, that were by, "Did not I often tell you, that this cloud would one day burst upon us from the mountains with all the fury of a storm?" After the battle, Fabius having collected the spoils of such Carthaginians as were left dead upon the field, returned to his post; nor did he let fail one haughty or angry word against his colleague. As for Minucius, having called his men together, he thus expressed himself: " Friends and fellow soldiers! not to err at all in the management of great affairs, is above the wisdom of men; but it is the part of a prudent and good man, to learn, from his errors and miscarriages, to correct himself for the future. For my part, I confess, that though for- tune has frowned upon me a little, I have much to thank her for. For what I could not be brought to be sensible of in so long a time, I have learned in the small compass of one day, that I know not how to command, but have need to be under the direction of another; and from this moment I bid adieu to the ambition of getting the better of a rmm whom it is an honor to be foiled by. In all other respects, the dictator shall be your com- mander; but in the due expressions of gratitude to him, I will be your leader still, by being the first to show an example of obedience and submis- sion." He then ordered the ensigns to advance with the eagles, and the troops to follow, himself marching at their head to the camp of Fabius. Being ad- mitted, he went directly to his tent. The whole army waited with impatience for the event. When Fabius carne out, Minucius fixed his standard be- fore him, and with a loud voice saluted him by the name of Father; at the same time his soldiers called those of Fabius their Patrons: an appella- tion which freedmen give to those that enfranchise them. These respects being paid, and silence taking place, Minucius thus addressed himself to the dii> tator: "You have this day, Fabius, obtained two victories: one over the enemy by your valor, the other over your colleague by your prudence and humanity. By the former you saved us, by the latter you have instructed us, and Hannibal's vic- tory over us is not more disgraceful than yours is honorable and salutary to us. I call you Father, in time of trouble; and we learn from Scripture that it practiced in the East. FABIUS MAXIMUS 139 not knowing a more honorable name, and am more indebted to you than to my real father. To him I owe my being, but to you the preservation of my life, and the lives of all these brave men." After this, he threw himself into the arms of Fab- ius, and the soldiers of each army embraced one another, with every expression of tenderness, and with tears of joy. v Not long after this, Fabius laid down the dicta- torship, and consuls were created.* The first of these kept to the plan which Fabius had laid down. He took care not to come to a pitched battle with Hannibal, but seat succors to the allies of Rome, and prevented any revolt in their cities. But when Terentius Varro,f a man of obscure birth, and remarkable only for his temerity and servile complaisance to the people, rose to the con- sulship, it soon appeared that his boldness and in- experience would bring him to risk the very be- ing of the commonwealth. For he loudly insisted In the assemblies of the people, that the war stood still while it was under the conduct of the Fabii; but, for his part, he would take but one day to get sight of the enemy, and to beat him. With these promises he so prevailed on the multitude, that he raised greater forces than Rome had ever had on foot before, in her most dangerous wars; for he mustered^ no fewer than eighty-eight thousand men. Hereupon, Fabius, and other wise and ex- perienced persons among the Romans were great- ly alarmed; because they saw no resource for the state, if such a number of their youth should be cut off. They addressed themselves, therefore, to the other consul, Paulus ^Emilius, a man of great experience in war, but disagreeable to the people, and at the same time afraid of them, for they had formerly set a considerable fine upon him. Fa- bius, however, encouraged him to withstand the temerity of his colleague, telling him, "That the clspute he had to support for his country was not so much with Hannibal as with Varro. The lat- ter," said he, "will hasten to an engagement,^ be- cause he knows not his own strength; and the former, because he knows his own weakness. But, believe me, ^Emilius, I deserve more attention than Varro, with respect to the affairs of Hanni- bal; and I do assure you, that if the Romans come to no battle with him this year, he will either be undone by his stay in Italy, or else be obliged to quit it. Even now, when he seems to be victori- ous, and to carry all before him, not one of his enemies has quitted the Roman interest, and not a third part of the forces remains which he brought from home with him." To this ^Emilius is said to have answered, " My friend, when I consider myself only, I conclude it better for rne to fall upon the weapons of the enemy, than by the sen- According to Livy, Fabius, after the six months of his dictatorship were expired, resigned the army to the consuls of that year, Servilius and Attilius: the latter having been appointed in the room of Flaminius, who was killed in bat- tle. But Plutarch follows Polybius, who says, that as the time for the election of new consuls approached, the Ho- mans named L. ^Emilius Paulus and Terentius Varro con- tuls, after which the dictators resigned their charge. t Varro was the son of a butcher, and had Ibllowed his father's profession in his youth; but, growing rich, he had forsaken that mean calling; and, by the favor of the people, procured by supporting the most turbulent of their tribunes, he obtained the consulate. t It was usual for the Romans to muster every year four tegions, which consisting, in difficult times, each of five thousand Roman foot and three hundred horse, and a bat- talion of Latins equal to that number, amounted in the whole to 42,400. Hut this year, instead of four legions, they raised eight. The best dependence of Varro was, undoubtedly, to prolong the war, that, Hannibal, who was already weakened, might wear himself out by degrees; and, for the same rea- son, it was Hannibal's business to fight. tence of my own countrymen. However, since the state of public affairs is so critical, I will en- deavor to approve myself a good general, and had rather appear such to you, than to all who oppose you, and who would draw me, willing or unwill- ing, to their party." With these sentiments ./Emilius began his operations. But Varro, having brought his colleague to agree* that they should command alternately each his day, when his turn came, took post over against Hannibal, on the banks of the Aufidus, near the village of Cannae. f As soon as it was light, he gave the signal for battle, which is a ret* mantle set up over the general's tent. The Car- thaginians were a little disheartened at first, when they saw how daring the the consul was, and that the army was more than twice their number. But Hannibal having ordered them to arm, himself, with a few others, rode up to an eminence, to take a view of the enemy now drawn up for battle. One Gisco that accompanied him, a man of his own rank, happening to say " The numbers of the enemy appeared to him surprising." Hannibal replied with a serious countenance, " There is an- other thing which has escaped your observation, much more surprising than that." Upon his ask- ing what it was, "It is," said he, "that among such numbers not one of them is named Gisco." The whole company were diverted with the hu- mor of his observations: and as they returned to the camp, they told the jest to those they met, so that the laugh became universal. At sight of this the Carthaginians took courage, thinking it must proceed from the great contempt in which their general held the Romans, that he could jest and laugh in the face of danger. In this battle Hannibal gave great proofs of generalship. In the first place, he took advantage of the ground, to post his men with their backs to the wind, which was then very violent and scorch- ing, and drove from the dry plains, over the heads of the Carthaginians, clouds of sand and dust into the eyes and nostrils of the Romans, so that they were obliged to turn away their faces and break their ranks. In the next place, his troops were drawn up in superior art. He placed the flower of them in the wings, and those upon whom he held less dependence in the main corps, which was considerably more advanced than the wings. Then he commanded those in the wings, that when the enemy had charged and vigorously pushed that advanced body, which he knew would give way, and open a passage for them to the very center, and when the Romans by this means should be far enough engaged within the two wings, they should both on the right and left take them in flank, and endeavor to surround them-i This was the principal cause of the great carnage that followed. For the enemy pressing upon Hannibal's front, which gave ground, the form of his army was changed into a half-moon; and the officers of the select troops caused the two points of the wings to join behind the Romans. * It was a fixed rule with the Romans, that the consuls, when they went upon the same service, should have the command of the army by turns. t Cannae, according to Livy, Appian, and Florus. xvns only a poor village, which afterward became famous on ;>o- count of the battle fought near it; but Polybius, who lived near the time of the second Punic war, styles Cannnu a citv; and adris, that it had been razed a year before the defeat of the Roman army. Silius Italicus agrees with Polybius. It was afterward rebuilt; for Pliny ranks it among the cities of Apula. The ruins of Cannte are still to be seen in the territory of Bari. t Five hundred Numidians pretended to desert to the Romans; but in the heat of the battle tamed against them, and attacked them in the rear. 140 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Thus they were exposed to the attacks of the Car- thaginians on all sides; an incredible slaughter followed; nor did any escape but the few that re- treated before the main body was enclosed. It is also said, that a strange and fatal accident happened to the Roman cavalry. For the horse which ./Emilias rode having received some hurt, threw him; and those about him alighting to as- sist and defend the consul on foot, the rest of the cavalry seeing this, and taking it for a signal for them to do the same, all quitted their horses, and charged on foot. Ac sight of this, Hannibal said, "This pleases me better than if they had been delivered to me bound hand and foot." But the particulars maybe found at large in the historians who have described this battle. As to the consuls, Varro escaped with a few horse to VenUtia; and ^Emilius, covered with darts which stuck in his wounds, sat down in anguish and de- spair, waiting for the enemy to dispatch him. His head and his face were so disfigured and stained with blood, that it was not easy to know him; even his friends and servants passed by him without stop- ping. At last, Cornelius Lentulus, a young man of a patrician family, perceiving who he was, dis- mounted, and entreated hirn to take his horse, and save himself for the commonwealth, which had then more occasion than ever for so good a consul. But nothing could prevail upon him to accept of the offer; and, notwithstanding the young man's tears, he obliged him to mount his horse again. Then rising up, and taking him by the hand, " Tell Fabius Maximus," said he, " and, Lentulus, do you yourself be witness, that Paulus ^Emilius followed his directions to the last, and did not deviate in the least from the plan agreed upon between them, but was first overcome by Varro, and then by Hannibal." Having dispatch- ed Lentulus with this commission, he rushed among the enemy's swords, and was slain. Fifty thousand Romans are said to have fallen in this battle,* and four thousand to have been taken pri- soners, beside ten thousand that were taken after the battle in both the camps. After this great success, Hannibal's friends ad- vised him to pursue his fortune, and to enter Rome along witli the fugitives, assuring him that in five days he might sup in the Capitol. It is not easy to conjecture what his reason was for not taking this step. Most probably some deity opposed it, and therefore inspired him with this hesitation and timiuily. On this account it was that a Carthaginian, named Barca, said to him with some heat, " Hannibal, you know how to guin a victory, but not how to use it." f * According t.o Livy, there were killed of the Rornnns only forty thousand toot, and two thousand seven hundred horse. Polybius says, that seventy thousand were killed. The loss ol the Carthaginians did not amount to six thou- sand. When the Carthaginians were stripping the dead, among Other moving objects, they found, to their great surprise, a Nomidian yet alive, lying under the dead body of a Roman, who had thrown himself "headlong on his enemy, and beat him down; but being no longer able to make use of his weapons, becaus* he bad lost his hands, had torn off the nose and ears of the Nnmidian with his teeth, and in that fit of rage expiied. t Zonarus tells us, that Hannibal himself afterward ac- knowledged his mistake in not pursuing that day's success, and used often to cry out, O Cannae! Cannae! But on the other hand, it may be pleaded in defense of Hannibal, that the advantages he had gained were chiefly owing to his cavalry, who could not act in asioge: That the inhabitants of Rome were all bred up to arms from their in- fancy; would use their utmost efforts in defense of their wive's, their children, and their domestic gods; and, when sheltered by walls and ramparts, would probably be invin- cible; U it the;' had as many generals as senators; that no The battle of Cannse, however, made such aa alteration in his affairs, that though before it he had neither town, nor magazine, nor port in Italy, but, without any regular supplies for the war, subsisted his army by rapine, and for that purpose moved them, like a great band of robbers, from place to place, yet then he became master of the greatest part of Italy. Its best provinces and towns voluntarily submitted to him, and Capua itself, the most respectable city after Rome, threw its weight into his scale. In this case it appeared that great misfortunes are not only, what Euripides calls them, a trial of the fidelity of a friend, but of the capacity and conduct of a general. For the proceedings of Fabius, which before this battle were deemed cold and timid, then appeared to be directed by coun- sels more than human, to be indeed the dictates of a divine wisdom, which penetrated into futurity at such a distance, and foresaw what seemed incre- dible to the very persons who experienced it. In him, therefore, Rome places her last hope; his judgment is the temple, the altar, to which she flies for refuge, believing that to his prudence it was chiefly owing that she still held up her head, and that her children were not dispersed, as when she was taken by the Gauls. For he, who in times of apparent security, seemed to be deficient in confidence and resolution, now, when all aban- doned themselves to inexpressible sorrow and help- less despair, alone walked about the city with a calm and easy pace, with a firm countenance, a mild and gracious address, checking their effemi- nate lamentations, and preventing them from assembling in public to bewail their common dis- tress. He caused the senate to meet; he encour- aged the magistrates, himself being the soul of their body, for all waited his motion, and were ready to obey his orders. He placed a guard at the gates, to hinder such of the people as were inclined to fly, from quitting the city. He fixed both the place and time for mourning, allowed thirty days for that purpose in a man's own house, and no more for the city in general. And as the feast, of Ceres fell within that time, it was thought better entirely to omit the solemnity, than by tlie small numbers and the melancholy looks of those that should attend it, to discover the greatness of their loss:* for the worship most acceptable to the gods is that which comes from cheerful hearts. In- deed, whatever the augurs ordered for propitiating the divine powers, and averting inauspicious omens, was carefully performed. For Fabius Pictor, the near relation of Fabius Maximus, was sent to consult the oracle at Delphi; and of the two ves- tals who were then found guilty of a breach of their vow of chastity, one was burned alive, ac- cording to custom, and the other died by her own hand. But what most deserves to be admired, is the magnanimity and temper of the Romans, when the consul Varro returned after his defeat,f much one nation of Italy had yet declared for him, and he might judge it necessary" to gain some of them before he attempt, ed the capital: and lastly, that if he had attempted the capital tir*t, and without success, he would not have beJi able to gain any one nation or city. * This was not t.he real cause of deferring the festal, but that which Plutarch hints at just after, viz. because it was unlawful for persons in mourning to celebrate it; and at that time there was not one matron in Rome who vva not in mourning. In fact, the feast was not entirely omit- ted, but kept as soon as the mourning was expired. t Valerius Maximus tells us (lib. iii, c. 6.) that the senate and people offered Varro the dictatorship, which he refused, and by his modest refusal wiped off, in some measure, th* shame of his former behavior. Thus the Romans, bv ua&W FABIUS MAXIMCJS. 141 humbled and very melancholy, as one who had occasioned the greatest calamity and disgrace im- aginable to the republic. The whole senate and people went to welcome him at the gates; and when silence was commanded, the magistrates and principal senators, among whom was Fabius, commended him for not giving up the circum- stances of the state as desperate after so great a misfortune, but returning lo take upon him the administration, and to make what advantage he could for his country of the laws and citizens, as not being utterly lost and ruined. When they found that Hannibal, after the battle, instead of marching to Rome, turned to another part of Italy, they took courage, and sent their armies and generals into the field. The most eminent of these were Fabius Maximus and Clau- dius Marcellus, men distinguished by characters almost entirely opposite. Marcellus (as we have mentioned in his life;, was a man of a buoyant and animated valor, remarkably well skilled in the use of weapons, and naturally enterprising, such an one, in short, as Homer calls lofty in heart, in courage fierce, in war delighting. So intrepid a general was very fit to be opposed to an enemy as daring as himself, to restore the courage and spi- rits of the Romans, by some vigorous stroke in the first engagements. As for Fabius, he kept to his first sentiments, and hoped, that if he only followed Hannibal close, without fighting him, he and Ills army would wear themselves out, and lose their warlike vigor, just as a wrestler does, who keeps continually in the ring, and allows himself i>o repose, to recruit his strength after excessive fatigues. Hence it was that the Romans (as Posi- donius tell us), called Fabius their shield, and Marcellus their sword, and used to say, that the steadiness and caution of the one, mixed with the vivacity and boldness of the other, made a com- pound very salutary to Rome. Hannibal, there- fore, often meeting Marcellus, whose motions were like those of a torrent, found his forces broken and diminished ; and by Fabius, who moved with a silent but constant stream, he was undermined and insensibly weakened. Such, at iength, was the extremity he was reduced to, that he was tired of fighting Marcellus, and afraid of Fabins. And these were the persons he had gene- rally to do with during the remainder of the war, as pra3tors, consuls, or proconsuls: for each of them was five times consul. It is true, Marcel- lus, in his fifth consulate was drawn into his snares, and killed by means of an ambuscade. Hannibal often made the like attempts upon Fabius, exerting all his arts and stratagems, but without effect. Once only he deceived him and had nearly led him into a fatal error. Ho forgfd letters to him, as from the principal inhabitants of Metaponturn, offering to deliver up the city to him, and assuring him that those who had taken this resolution, only waited until he appeared be- fore it. Fabius giving credit to these letters, ordered a party to be ready, intending to march thither in the night; bivt finding the auspices un- promising, he altered his design, and soon alter discovered that the letters were forged by an arti- fice of Hannibal's, and that he was lying in am- bush for him near the town. But this perhaps may be ascribed to the favor and protection of the gods. Fabius was persuaded that it was better to keep ing their commanders with humanity, lessened the disgrace of their being vanquished or discharged; while the Cartha- ginians condemned their generals to cruel deaths upon their being overcome, though it was often without their own fault. the cities from revolting, and to prevent any com- motions among the allies, by affability and mild- ness, than to entertain every suspicion, or to uso severity against those whom he did suspect. It is reported of him, that being informed, that a cer- tain Marcian in his army,* who was a man not inferior in courage or family to any among the allies, solicited some of his men to desert, he did not treat him harshly, but acknowledged that he had been too much "neglected; declaring at the same time, that he was now perfectly sensible how much his officers had been to blame in dis- tributing honors more out of favor than regard to merit: and that for the future he should take it ill if he did not apply to him when he had any re- quest to make. This was followed v.'ith a present of a war horse, and with other marks of honor; and from that time the man behaved with great fidelity and zeal for the service. Fabius thought it hard, that, while those who breed dogs and horses, soften their stubborn tempers, and bring down their fierce spirits by care and kindness, rather than with whips and chains, he who has the command of men should not endeavor to cor- rect their errors by gentleness and goodness, but treat them even in a harsher and more violent manner than gardeners do the wild fig-trees, wild pears and olives, whose nature they subdue by cultivation, and which, by that means, they bring to produce very agreeable fruit. Another time, some of his officers informed him, that one of his soldiers, a native of Lucania, often quitted his post, and rambled out of the camp. Upon this report, he asked what kind of a man he was in other respects; and they all declared it was not easy to find so good a soldier, doing him the justice to mention several extraordinary instances of his valor. On inquiring into the cause of this irregularity, he found that the man was passionate- ly in love, and that, for the sake of seeing a young woman, he ventured out of the camp, and took a long and dangerous journey every night. Here- upon Fabius gave orders to some of his men to find out the woman, and convey her into his own tent, but took care that the Lucanian should not know it. Then he sent for him, and taking him aside, spoke to him as follows: " I very well know, that you have lain many nights out of the camp, in breach of the Roman discipline and laws; at the same time, I am not ignorant of your past services. In consideration of them, I forgive your present crime; but, for the future, I will give you in charge to a person who shall be answerable for you." While the soldier stood much amazed, Fabius produced the woman, and putting her in his hands, thus expressed himself: "This is the person who engages for you, that you will remain in camp; and now we shall see whether there was not some traitorous design which drew you out, and which you made the love of this woman a cloak for." Such is the account we have of this affair. By means of another love affair, Fabius re- covered the city of Tarentum, which had been treacherously delivered up to Hannibal. A young man, a native of that place, who served under Fabius, had a sister there, who loved him with great tenderness. This youth being informed that a certain Brutian, one of the officers of the garrison which Hannibal had put in Tarentum, entertained a violent passion for his sister, hoped to avail himself of this circumstance to the ad- vantage of the Romans. Therefore, with the Livy tells this story of Marcellus, which Plutarch ben applies to Fabius. 142 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. permission of Fabius, he returned to his sister at Tarentum, under color of having deserted. Some flays passed, during which the Brutiun forbore his visits, for she supposed that iier brother knew no- thing of the amour. This obliged the young man to come to an explanation. "It has been cur- rently reported," said he, " that you receive ad- dresses from a man of some distinction. Pray, who is he? If he is a man of honor and charac- ter, as they suy he is, Mars, who confounds all tilings, takes but little thought of what country he may be. What necessity imposes is no dis- grace; but we may rather think ourselves for- tunate, at a time when justice yields to force, if that which force might compel us to, happens not to be disagreeable to our own inclinations." Thus encouraged, the young woman sent for the Brutian, and presented him to her brother. And as she behaved to him in a kinder and more com- plying manner through her brother's means, who was very indulgent to his passion, it was not very difficult to prevail with the Brutian, who was deeply in love, and was withal a mercenary,* to deliver up the town, upon promises of great re- wards from Fabius. This is the account which most historians give us; yet some say, that the woman by whom the Brutian was gained, was not a Tarentine, but a Brutian; that she had been concubine to Fabius; and that when she found the governor of Taren- tum was her countryman aud acquaintance, she told Fabius of it, and finding means, by approach- ing the walls, to make him a proposal, she drew him over to the Roman interest. During these transactions, Fabius, in order to make a diversion, gave directions to the garrison of Rhegium to lay waste the Brutian territories, and, if possible, to make themselves masters of Cau- lonia. These were a body of eight thousand men, composed partly of deserters, and partly of the most worthless of that infamous band brought by Marcellus out of Sicily,f and therefore the loss of them would not be great, nor much lamented by the Romans. These men he threw out as a bait for Hannibal, and by sacrificing them hoped to draw him to a distance from Tarentum. The design succeeded accordingly: for Hannibal march- ed with his forces to Cauionia, and Fabius in the meantime laid siege to Tarentum. The sixth day of the siege, the young man having settled the matter with the Brutian officer by means of his sister, and having well observed the place where he kept guard and promised to let in the Romans, went to Fabius by night, and^ gave him an account of it. The consul moved to the appointed quar- ter, though not entirely depending upon the pro- mise that the town would be betrayed. There he himself sat still, but at the same time ordered an assault on every other part, both by sea and land. This was put in execution with great noise and tumult, which drew most of the Tarentines that way to assist the garrison, and repel the be- siegers. Then the Brutian giving Fabius the signal, he sailed the walls, and got possession of the town. On this occasion, Fabius seems to have indulged a criminal ambition. For that it might not ap- * This has been mistrans. la'ed a man of a mercenary disposition. The words only import that he was not of Hannibal's own troops, but of the mercenaries. Hence all governments should learn to be- ware how they intrust their towns with garrisons of hired troops and strangers. t These men were brought from Sicily, not by Marcellus OUT by his colleague Lsvinus. $ L'ivy doe* n?t say that Fabius gave such orders. He pear that the place was betrayed to him, he or- dered the Brutians to be put first to the swonfc But he failed in his design; for the former suspi- cion still remained, and he incurred, beside, th* reproach of perfidy and inhumanity. Many of the Tarentines also were killed; thirty thousand of them were sold for slaves; the army had the plunder of the town, and three thousand talents were brought into the public treasury. While every tiling was ransacked, and the spoils were heaped before Fabius, it is reported that the officer who took the inventory, asked "What he would have them to do with the gods?" meaning the statues and pictures: Fabius answered, " Let us leave the Tarentines their angry gods."* How- ever, he carried away a Colossus of Hercules, which he afterward set up in the Capitol, and near it an equestrian statue of himself in brass. f Thus he showed himself inferior to Marcellus, in his taste for the fine arts, and still more so in mercy and humanity. Marcellus in this respect had greatly the advantage, as we have already observed in his life. Hannibal had hastened to the relief of Taren- tum. and being within five miles of it, when it was taken, he scrupled not to say publicly, "The Romans, too, have their Hannibal; for we have lost Tarentum in the same manner that we gain- ed it." And in private, he then first acknow- ledged to his friends, " That he had always thought it difficult, but now saw it was impossible, with the forces he had, to conquer Italy." Fabius for this was honored with a triumph) more splendid than the former, having gloriously maintained the field against Hannibal, and baffled all his schemes with ease, just as an able wrestler disengages himself from the arms of his anta- gonist, whose grasp no longer retains the same vigor. For Hannibal's army was now partly en- ervated with opulence and luxury, and partly im- paired and worn with continual action. Marcus Livius, who commanded in Tarentum, when it was betrayed to Hannibal, retired into the citadel, and held it until it was retaken by the Ro- mans. This officer beheld with pain the honors conferred upon Fabius, and one day his envy and vanity drew from him this expression in the senate, " I, not Fabius, was the cause of recover- ing Tarentum." " True," said Fabius, laughing, " for if you had not lost the town, I had never recovered it." Among other honors which the Romans paid to Fabius, they elected his son consul-t When he had entered upon his office, and was settling some point relating to the war, the father, either on account of his age and infirmities, or else to try his son, mounted his horse, to ride up to him. The young consul seeing him at a distance, would not suffer it, but sent one of the tictors to his father, with orders for him to dismount, and to come on foot to the consul, if he had any occasion to apply to him. The whole assembly were moved at this, and cast their eyes upon Fabius, by their silence and their looks, expressing their resentment of the indignity offered to a person of his character. But he instantly alighted, and ran to his son, and embraced him with great ten- only says, "There were many Brutians slin, either throngb ignorance, or through the ancient haired which the Roman* bore them, or because the Romans were desirous tbat Ta rentiim should seem to be taken sword in hand, rather than betrayed to them." * The gods were in the attitude of combatants; and thej appeared to have fought against the Tarentines. t The work of Lysippus. i The son was elected consul four years before the fathe took Tarentum. FABIUS MAXIMUS. 143 derntss. "My son," said he, "I applaud your Bentiments and your behavior. You know what a people you command, and have a just sense of the dignity of your office. This was the way that we and our forefathers took to advance Rome to her present higlit of glory, always considering the honor and interest of our country before that of our own fathers and children." And indeed it is reported that the great grand- father of our Fabius,* though he was one of the greatest men in Rome, whether we consider his reputation or authority, though he had been five times consul, and had been honored with several glorious triumphs on account of his success in wars of the last importance, yet condescended to serve as lieutenant to his son then consul,t in an expedition against the Samnites: and while his sou, in the triumph which was decreed him, drove into Rome in a chariot and four, he with others followed him on horseback. Thus, while he had authority over his son, considered as a private man, and while he was both especially and repu- tedly the most considerable member of the com- monwealth, yet he gloried in showing his sub- jection to the laws and to the magistrate. Nor was this the only part of his character that de- serves to be admired. When Fabius Maximus had the misfortune to lose his son, he bore that loss with great modera- tion, as became a wise man and a good father ; and the funeral oration,:}: which on occasion of the deaths of illustrious men is usually pronounced by some near kinsman, he delivered himself; and having committed it to writing, made it public. When Publius Cornelius Scipio, who was sent proconsul into Spain, had defeated the Carthagi- nians in many battles, and driven them out of that province; and when he had, moreover, re- duced several towns and nations under the obe- dience of Rome, on returning loaded with spoil, he was received with great acclamations and gene- ral joy. Being appointed consul, and finding that the people expected something great and striking at his hands, he considered it as an antiquated method and worthy only of the inactivity of an old man, to watch the motions of Hannibal in Italy ; and therefore determined to remove the seat of war from thence into Africa, to fill the enemy's country with his legions, to extend his ravages far and wide, and to attempt Carthage itself. With this view he exerted all his talents to bring the people into his design. But Fabius, on this occa- sion, filled the city with alarms, as if the com- monwealth was going to be brought into the most extreme danger by a rash and indiscreet young man: in short, he scrupled not to do or say any- thing he thought likely to dissuade his country- men from embracing the proposal. With the senate he carried his point. But the people, be- lieving that his opposition to Scipio proceeded either from envy of his success, or from a secret fear that if this young hero should perform some signal exploit, put an end to the war, or even remove it out of Italy, his own slow proceedings through * Fabius Rnllus. t Fabins Gurges, who had been defeated by the Sam- nite*, and would have been degraded, had not his father promised to attend him in his second expedition as his lieu- tenant. t Cicero, in his treatise on old age, speaks in high terms, both of Fabius and ibis oration of his: "Many extraordina- ry things have I known in that man, but nothing more ad- mirable than the m, inner in which he bore the death of his son, a person of great merit, and of consular dignity. His euloginm is in our hands; and while we read it, do we not look down on the best of the philosophers?" 5 See the debates in the senate on that occasion, in Livy, *b. uviii. the course of so many years, might be imputed to indolence or timidity. To rne Fabius seems at first to have opposed the measures of Scipio from an excess of caution and prudence, and to have really thought the dan- ger attending his project great; but in the pro- gress of the opposition, I think he went too great lengths, misled by ambition and a jealousy of Sci- pio's rising glory. For he applied to Crassus, the colleague of Scipio, and endeavored to persuado him not to yield that province to Scipio, but if he thought it proper to conduct the war in that man- ner, to go himself against Carthage.* Nay, he even hindered the raising of money for that expedition: so that Scipio was obliged to find the supplies as ha could: and he effected it through his interest with the cities of Hetruria, which were wholly devoted to hirn.f As for Crassus, he stayed at home, partly induced to it by his disposition, which was mild and peaceful, and partly by the care of reli- gion, which was intrusted to him as high-priest. Fabius, therefore, took another method to tra- verse the design. He endeavored to prevent the young men who offered to go volunteers from giving in their names, and loudly declared both in the senate and forum, " That Scipio did not only himself avoid Hannibal, but intended to carry away with him the remaining strength of Italy, persuading the young men to abandon their parents, their wives, and native city, while an un- subdued and potent enemy was still at their doors." With these assertions he so terrified the people, that they allowed Scipio to take with him only the legions that were in Sicily, and three hundred of those men who had served him with so much fidelity in Spain. In this particular Fabius seems to have followed the dictates of his own cautious temper. After Scipio was gone over into Africa, an ac- count was soon brought to Rome of his glorious and wonderful achievements. This account was followed by rich spoils which confirmed it. A Numidian king was taken prisoner; two camps were burned and destroyed, and in them a vast number of men, arms, and horses; and the Car- thaginians sent orders to Hannibal to quit his fruitless hopes in Italy, and return home to defend his own country. While every tongue was ap- plauding these exploits of Scipio, Fabius proposed that his successor should be appointed, without any shadow or reason for it, except what this well known maxim implies, viz.: " That it is danger- ous to trust affairs of such importance to the for- tune of one man, because it is not likely that he will be always successful." By this he offended the people, who now consi- dered him as a captious and envious man; or as one whose courage and hopes were lost in the dregs of years, and who, therefore, looked upon Hannibal as more formidable than he really was. Nay, even when Hannibal embarked his army and quitted Italy, Fabius ceased not to disturb the general joy and to damp the spirits of Rome. For he took the liberty to affirm, "That the common- wealth was now come to her last and worst trial; that she had the most reason to dread the efforts of Hannibal when he should arrive in Africa, and * This Crassus could not do: for being Ponti fox Maximus, it was necessary that he should remain in Italy. t Scipio was empowered to ask of the allies all things necessary for building and equipping a new fleet. And many of the provinces and cities voluntarily taxed them selves to furnish him with corn, iron, timber, cloth for sails, &c.,so that in forty days after the cutting of the timber, ho was in a condition to set sail with a fleet of thirty new gal- leys, beside the thirty he had before. There went wi'.li Sim about seven thousand volunteers. 144 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. attack her sons under the walls of Carthage; that Scipio would have to do with an army yet warm with the blood of so many Roman generals, dicta- tors and consuls." The city was alarmed at these declamations, and though the war was removed into Africa, the danger seemed to approach nearer Rome than ever. However, soon after, Scipio defeated Hannibal in a pitched battle, pulled down the pride of Car- thage and trod it under foot. This afforded the Romans a pleasure beyond all their hopes, and restored a firmness to their empire, which had been shaken with so many tempests. But Fabius Maxim us did not live to the end of the war, to j hear of the overthrow of Hannibal, or to see the pros- j perity of his country re-established: for about the time that Hannibal left Italy, he fell sick and diedv We are assured, that Epamiuondas died so poor, that the Thebans buried him at the public charge; for at his death nothing was found in his house but an iron spit.* The expense of Fabius's fune- ral was not indeed defrayed out of the Roman treasury, but every citizen contributed a small piece of money toward it; not that he died with- out effects, but that they might bury him as the father of the people: and that the honors paid him at his death might be suitable to the dignity of his life. PERICLES AND FABIUS MAXIMUS COMPARED. SUCH were the lives of these two persons, so illustrious and worthy of imitation both in their civil and military capacity. We shall first com- pare their talents for war. And here it strikes us at once, that Pericles came into power at a time when the Athenians were at the hight of pros- perity, great in themselves, and respectable to their neighbors: so that in the very strength of the republic, with only common success, he was secure from taking any disgraceful step. But as Fabius came to the helm, when Rome experienced the worst and most mortifying turn of fortune, he had not to preserve the well established pros- perity of a flourishing state, but to draw his country from an abyss of misery and raise it to happiness. Beside, the successes of Cimon, the victories of Myronides and Leocrates, and the many great achievements of Tolmides, rather fur- nished occasion to Pericles, during his administra- tion, to entertain the city with feasts and games, than to make new acquisitions, or to defend the old ones by arms. On the other hand, Fabius had the frightful objects before his eyes of defeat, and disgraces, of Roman consuls and generals slain, of lakes, fields, and forests full of the dead carcasses of whole armies, and of rivers flowing with blood down to the very sea. In this totter- ing and decayed condition of the commonwealth he was to support it by his counsels and his vigor, and to keep it from falling into absolute ruin, to which it was brought so near by the errors of former commanders. It may seem, indeed, a less arduous performance to manage the tempers of a people humbled by calamities, and compelled by necessity to asten to reason, than to restrain the wildness and insolence of a city elated with success, and wanton with power, such as Athens was when Pericles held the reins of government. But then, undauntedly to keep to hi? first resolutions, and not to be discom- posed by the vast weight of misfortunes with which Rome was then oppressed, discovers in Fabius an admirable firmness and dignity of mind. Against the taking of Samos by Pericles, we may set the retaking of Tarentum by Fabius; and with Eubcea we may put in balance the towns of Campania. As for Capua, it was recovered afterward by the consuls Furius and Appius. Fabius, indeed, gained but one set battle, for which he had his first triumph; whereas Pericles erected nine trophies for as many victories won by land and sea. But none of the victories of Pericles can be compared with that memorable rescue of Minucius, by which Fabius redeemed him and his whole army from utter destruction; an action truly great, and in which you find at once the bright assemblage of valor, of prudence, and humanity. Nor can Pericles on the other hand, be said ever to have committed such an error as that of Fabius, when he suffered himself to be imposed on by Hannibal's stratagem of the oxen; let his enemy slip in the night through those straits in which he had been entangled by accident, and where he could not possibly have forced his way out; and as soon as it was day, saw himself repulsed by the man who so lately was at his mercy. If it is the part of a good general, not only to make a proper use of the present, but also to form the best judgment of things to come, 11 must be allowed that Pericles both foresaw and foretold what success the Athenians would have in the war, namely, that they would ruin themselves, by grasping at too much. But it was entirely against the opinion of Fabius, that the Romans sent Scipio into Africa, and yet they were victorious there; not by the favor of fortune, but by the courage and conduct of their general. So that the misfortunes of his country bore witness to the sagacity of Pericles; and from the glorious success of the Romans, it appeared thai Fabius was utterly mistaken. And, indeed, it is an equal fault in a commander- in-chief, to lo?e au advantage through diffidence, as to fall into dan- ger for want of foresight. For it is the same want of judgment and skill, that sometimes pro- duces too much confidence, and sometimes leaves too little. Thus far concerning their abilities in war. And if we consider them in their political ca- pacity, we shall find that the greatest fattlt laid to the charge of Pericles, was that he caused the Peloponnesian war, through opposition to the Lacedemonians, which made him unwilling t give up the least point to them. I do not sup- pose, that Fabius Maximus would have given up any point to the Carthaginians, but that he would generously have run the last risk to maintain the dignity of Rome. * Xylander is of opinion, that the word O iXl<rx.s<; j n thts place does not signify a spit hut a piece of money; and ha shows from a passage in the life of Lysander, that money anciently was made in a pyramidical form. But he did not consider that the iron money was not in use at Thebes, and Plutarch says that this obeliscus was of iron. ALCIBIADES. 145 The mild and moderate behavior of Fabius to Miuucius, sets in a very disadvantageous light the conduct of Pericles, in his implacable persecution of Cinion and Thucydides, valuable men, and friends to the aristocracy, and yet banished by his practices and intrigues. Beside, the power of Pericles was much greater than that of Fabius ; and therefore he did not suffer any misfortune to be brought upon Athens by the wrong measures of other generals. Tol- mides only carried it against hum for attacking the Boeotians, and in doing it, he was defeated and slain. All the rest adhered to his party, and submitted to his opinion, on account of his supe- rior authority, whereas Fabius, whose measures were salutary and safe, as far as they depended upon himself, appears only to have fallen short, by his inability to prevent the miscarriages of others. For the Romans would not have had so many misfortunes to deplore, if the power of Fabius had been as great in Rome, as that of Pericles in Athens. As to their liberality and public spirit, Pericles showed it in refusing the sums that were offered him, and Fabius in ransoming his soldiers with his own money. This, indeed, was no great ex- pense, being only about six talents.* But it is not easy to say what a treasure Pericles might have amassed from the allies, and from kings who made their court to him, on account of his great au- thority; yet no man ever kept himself more free from corruption. As for the temples, the public edifices, and other works, with which Pericles adorned Athens, all the structures of that kind in Rome put together, until the times of the CaBsars, deserved not to be compared with them, either in the greatness of the design, or the excellence of the execution. ALCIBIADES. THOSE that have searched into the pedigree of Alcibiades, say that Eurysaces, the son of Ajax, was founder of the family ; and that, by his mother's side, he was descended from Alcrnoeon: for Dinemache, his mother, was the daughter of Megacles, who was of that line. His father Clinias gained great honor in the sea-fight of Artemisium, where he fought in a galley fitted out at his own expense, and afterward was slain in the battle of Coronsea, where the Boeotians won the day. Pericles and Ariphron, the sons of Zanthippus, and near relations to Alcibiades, were his guardians. It is said (and not without rea- son), that the affection and attachment of Socra- tes contributed much to his fame. For Nicias, Demosthenes, Larnachus, Phormio, Thrasybulus, Theramenes, were illustrious persons, and his contemporaries, yet we do not so much as know the name of the mother of either of them; where- as we know even the nurse of Alcibiades, that she was of Lacedremon, and that her name was Amycla; as well as that Zopyrus was his school- master; the one being recorded by Antisthenes, and the other by Plato. As to the beauty of Alcibiades, it may be sufficient to say, that it retained its charm through the several stages of childhood, youth, and man- hood. For it is not universally true, what Euri- pides says, The very autumn of a form once fine Retains its beauties. Yet this was the case of Alcibiades, among a few others, by reason of his natural vigor and happy constitution. He had a lisping in his speech, which became him, and gave a grace and persuasive turn to his discourse. Aristophanes, in those verses wherein he ridicules Theoras, takes notice, that Alcibi- ades lisped, for instead of calling him Corax, Ra- ven, he called him Colax, Flatterer; from whence the poet takes occasion to observe, that the term in that lisping pronunciation, too, was very appli- cable to him. With this agrees the satirical de- scription which Archippus gives of the son of Alcibiades: 10 With sauntering step, to imitate his father, The vain youth moves; his loose robe wildly floats; He bends the neck: he lisps. His manners were far from being uniform; nor is it strange, that they varied according to the many vicissitudes and wonderful turns of his for- tune. He was naturally a man of strong passions; but his ruling passion was an ambition to con- tend and overcome. This appears from what is related of his sayings when a boy. When hard pressed in wrestling, to prevent his being thrown, he bit the hands of his antagonist, who let go his hold, and said, " You bite, Alcibiades, like a woman." " No," says he, " like a lion." One day he was playing at dice with other boys,, in the street; and when it came to his turn to* throw, a loaded wagon came up. At first he called to the driver to stop, because he was. to. throw in the way over which the wagon was to pass. The rustic disregarding him and driving on, the other boys broke away; but Alcibiades threw himself upon his face directly before the wagon, and stretching himself out, bade the fellow driv,e on if he pleased. Upon this, he was so startied that he stopped his horses, while those that saw it ran up to him with terror. In the course of his education, h*- willingly took the lessons of his other masters, bis-fc refused learning to play upon the flute, which he> looked upon as a mean art, and unbecoming a, gentle- man. "The use of the plectrum upon tke lyre,'* he would say; "has nothing in it that disorders the features or form, but a man is hardly to be known by his most intimate friends when he plays upon the flute. Beside, the lyre does not hinder the performer from speaking or accompanying it with a song; whereas, the flute >o engages the mouth and the. breath, that it leaves no possibility of speaking. Therefore let the Thebun youth pipe, * Probably this is an error of the transcribers. For Fa- bins was to pay two hundred and fifty drachmas for each prisoner, and he ransomed two hundred and forty-seven; which would stand him in sixty-one thousand sever, hundred and fifty drachmas, that is more than ten talents; a very considerable expense to Fabius, which he couid not au*wc without selling his estate. 146 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. who know not how to discourse; but we Athe- nians, according to the account of our ancestors, have Minerva for our patroness, and Apollo for our protector; one of whom threw away the flute, and the other stripped off the man's skin who played upon it."* Thus, partly by raillery, and partly bv argument, Alcibiades kept both himself and others from learning to play upon the flute: for it soon became the talk among the young men of condition, that Alcibiades was right in holding that art in abomination, and ridiculing those that practiced it. Thus it lost its place in the number of liberal accomplishments, and was universally exploded. In the invective which Antipho wrote against Alcibiades, one story is, that when a boy, he ran away from his guardians to one of his friends named Democrates : and that Ariphron would have had proclamation made for him, had not Pericles diverted him from it, by saying, " If he is dead, we shall only find him one day the sooner for it; if he is safe, it will be a reproach to him as long as he lives." Another story is, that he killed one of his servants with a stroke of his stick, in Sibyrtius's place of exercise. But, per- haps, we should not give entire credit to these things, which were professedly written by an enemy, to defame him. Many persons of rank made their court to Alci- biaaes, but it is evident that they were charmed and attracted by the beauty of his person. So- crates was the only one whose regards were fixed upon the mind, and bore witness to the young man's virtue and ingenuity; the rays of which he could distinguish through his fine form. And fearing lest the pride of riches and high rank, and the crowd of flatterers, both Athenians and strangers, should corrupt him, he used his best endeavors to prevent it, and took care that so hopeful a plant should not lose its fruit and perish in the very flower. If ever fortune so enclosed and fortified a man with what are called her goods, as to render hirn inaccessible to the incision-knife of philosophy, and the searching- probe of free advice, surely it was Alcibiades. From the first, he was surrounded with pleasures, and amultitude of admirers, determined to say nothing but what they thought would please, and to keep him from all admonition and reproof; yet, by his native penetration, he distinguished the value of Socrates, and attached himself to him, rejecting the rich and great, who sued for his regard. With Socrates he soon entered into the closest intimacy: ami Chiding that he did not, like the rest of the unmanly crew, want improper favors, but that he studied to correct the errors of his heart, and to eure him of his empty and foolish arrogance, Then his crst fell, and all his pride was gone, He droop* d the conquer'd winy. In fact, he considered the discipline of Socrates as a provision from heaven for the preservation and benefit of youth. Thus despising himself, admiring his friend, adoring his wisdom, and revering his virtue, he insensibly formed in his heart the image of love, or rather came under the influence of that power, who, as Plato says, secures his votaries from vicious love. It sur- prised all the world to see him constantly sup with Socrates, take with him the exercise of wrestling, lodge in the same tent with him; while to his other admirers he was reserved and rough. Nay, to some he behaved with great insolence, to Anytus (for Muiyai. nstance) the son of Anthemion. Anytus was very fond of him, and happening to make an entertainment for some strangers, he desired Alcibiades to give him his company. Alcibiades would not accept of the invitation, but having drank deep with some of his acquaintance at his own house, he went thither to play some frolic The frolic was this: He stood at the door of the room where the guests were entertained, and see- ng a great number of gold and silver cups upon the table, he ordered his servants to take half of them, and carry them to his own house;* and then, not vouchsafing so much as to enter into the room himself: as soon as he had done this, h* went away. The company resented the affront and said, he had behaved very rudely and in solently to Anytus. "Not. at all," said Anytus "but rather kindly, since he has left us half, when he knew it was in his power to take the whole." He behaved in the same manner to his other ad- mirers, except only one stranger. This man (they tell us) was but in indifferent circumstances; for when he had sold all, he could make up no more than the sum of one hundred staters rf which he ca>-- ried to Alcibiades, and begged of him to accept it. Alcibiades WHS pleased at the thing, and smiling, invited him to supper. After a kind reception and entertainment, he gave him the gold again, but required him to be present the next day, when the public revenues were to be offered to farm, and to be sure and be the highest bidder. The man en- deavoring to excuse himself, because the rent would be many talents, Alcibiades, who had a private pique against the old farmers, threatened to have him beaten if he refused. Next morning, therefore, the stranger appeared in the market- place, and offered a talent more than the former rent. The farmers, uneasy and angry at this, called upon him to name his security, supposing that he could not find any. The poor man was indeed much startled, and going to retire with shame, when Alcibiades, who stood at some dis- tance, cried out to the magistrates, " Set down iny name; he is my friend, and I will be his security." When the old farmers of the revenue heard this, they were much perplexed; for their way was, with the profits of the present year to pay the rent of the preceding; so that, seeing no other way to extricate themselves out of the difficulty, they applied to the stranger in a humble strain, and offered him money. But Alcibiades would not suffer him to take less than a talent, which accor- dingly was paid. Having done him this service he told him he might relinquish his bargain. Though Socrates had many rivals, yet he kept possession of Alcibiades's heart by the excellence of his genius and the pathetic turn of his conver- sation, which often drew tears from his young companion. And though sometimes he gave So- crates the slip, and was drawn away by his flat- terers, who exhausted all the art of pleasure for that purpose, yet the philosopher took care to hunt out his fugitive, who feared and respected noi * Athenaeus says, he did not keep them himself, but ha* ing taken them from this man, who was rich, he gave ther to Thrasybulus, who was poor. t The statfr was a coin which weighed four Attic drat mas, and was either of gold or silver. The silver was wortl about two shillings and sixpence sterling. The stater duri. ens, a gold coin, was worth twelve shillings and three-pane* half-penny: but the Attic stater of gold must be worth much more, if we reckon the proportion of gold to silver ouly at ten to one, as it was then: whereas now it is about sixteen to one. Dacier, then, is greatly mistaken, when ha says the stater here mentioned by Plutarch was worth only forty French sols; for Plutarch says expressly, that tho staters were of gold. ALCIBIADES. 147 but him; the rest he held in great contempt. Hence that saying of Cleanthes, Socrates gains Alcibiades by the ear, and leaves to his rivals other parts of his body, with which he scorns to meddle. In fact, Alcibiades was very capable of being led by the allurements of pleasure; and what Thucy- dides says concerning his excesses in his way of living, gives occasion to believe so. Those who endeavored to corrupt him, attacked him on a still weaker side, his vanity and love of distinction, and led him into vast designs and unseasonable projects, persuading him, that as soon as he should apply himself to the management of public affairs, he would not only eclipse the other generals and orators, but surpass even Pericles himself, in point of reputation, as well as interest with the powers of Gieece. But as iron, when softened by the fire, is soon hardened again, and brought to a proper temper by cold water, so, when Alcibiades was enervated by luxury, or swollen with pride, Socra- tes corrected and brought him to himself by his discourses; for from them he learned the number of his defects and the imperfection of his virtue. When he was past his childhood, happening to go into a grammar-school, lie asked the master for a volume of Homer; and upon his making answer that he had nothing of Homer's, he gave him a box on the ear, and so left him. Another schoolmaster telling him he had Homer corrected by himself: "How!" said Alcibiades, "and do you employ your time in teaching children to read? you who are able to correct Homer, might seem to be fit to instruct men." One day, wanting to speak to Pericles, he went to his house, and being told there that he was busied in considering how to give in his accounts to the people, and therefore not at leisure; he said, as he went away, " He had better consider how to avoid giving in any account at all." While he was yet a youth, he made the cam- paign at Potidrea, where Socrates lodged in the same tent with him, and was his companion in every engagement. In the principal battle, they both behaved with great gallantry; but Alcibiades at last falling down wounded, Socrates advanced to defend him, which he did effectually, in the' sight of the wliole army, saving both him and his arms. For this the prize of valor was certainly due to Socrates, yet the generals inclined to give it to Alcibiades, on account of his quality ; and Socrates, willing to encourage his thirst after true glory, was the first who gave his suffrage for him, and pressed them to adjudge him the crown and the complete suit of armor. On the other hand, at the battle of Deli urn, where the Athenians were routed,* and Socrates, with a few others, was re- treating on foot, Alcibiades observing it, did not pass him, but covered his retreat, and brought him safe off, though the enemy pressed furiously forward, and killed great numbers of the Athe- nians. But this happened a considerable time after. To Hipponicus, the father of Callias, a man respectable both for his birth and fortune, Alcibi- ades one day gave a box on the ear; not that he had any quarrel with him, or was heated by pas- sion, but purely because, in a wanton frolic, he had agreed with his companions to do so. The whole city being full of the story of this insolence, and everybody (as it was natural to expect), ex- * Laches, as introduced by Plato, tells us, that if others had done their duty as Socrates did his, the Athenians would not have been defeated in the battle of Delium. That battle was foughf, the first year of the eighty-ninth Olym- piad, eight years after the battle of Potidaa. pressing some resentment, early next morning Alcibiades went to wait on Hipponicus, knocked at the door, and was admitted. As soon as he came into his presence, he stripped off his gar- ment, and presenting his naked body, desired him to beat and chastise him as he pleased. But instead of that, Hipponicus pardoned him, and forgot all his resentment; nay, sometime after, he even gave him his daughter Hipparete in marriage. Some say it was not Hipponicus, but his son Callias, who gave Hipparete to Alcibiades, with ten talents to her portion; and that when she brought him a child he demanded ten talents more, as if he had taken her on that condition. Though this was but a groundless pretense, yet Callias, apprehen- sive of some bad consequence from his artfu' contrivances, in a full assembly of the people, declared, that if he should happen to die without children, Aicibiades should be his heir. Hipparete made a prudent and affectionate wife; but at last, growing very uneasy at her husband's associating with so many courtesans, both stran- gers and Athenians, she quitted his house and went to her brother's. Alcibiades went on with his debaucheries, and gave himself no pain about his wife; but it was necessary for her, in order to a legal separation, to give in a bill of divorce to the archon, and to appear personally with it; for the sending of it by another hand would not do. When she came to do this according to law, Alci- biades rushed in, caught her in his arms, and car- ried her through the market-place to his own house, no one presuming to oppose him, or to take her from him. From that time she remained with him until her death, which happened not long after, when Alcibiades was upon his voyage to Ephesus. Nor does the violence used in this case, seern to be contrary to the laws, either of society in general, or of 'that republic in particular. For Ihe law of Athens, in requiring her who wants to be divorced -to appear publicly in person, probably intended to give the husband an opportunity to meet with her and recover her. Alcibiades had a dog of uncommon size and beauty, which cost him seventy mina, and yet his tail, which was his principal ornament, he caused to be cut off. Some of his acquaintance found great fault with his acting so strangely, and told him, that all Athens rung with the story of his foolish treatment of the dog: at which he laughed and said, " This is the very thing I wanted; for I would have the Athenians talk of this, lest they should find something worse to say of me." The first thing that made him popular, and in- troduced him into the administration, was his dis- tributing of money, not by design, but accident. Seeing one day a great crowd of people as he was walking along, he asked what it meant; and being informed there was a donative made to the people, he distributed money too, as he went in among them. Tads meeting with great applause, he was so much delighted, that he forgot a quail which he had under his robe,* and the bird, frightened with the noise, flew away. Upon this, the people set up still louder acclamations, and many of them assisted him to recover the quail. The man who did catch it and bring it to him, was one Antio- chus,f a pilot, for whom ever after he had a par- ticular regard. * It was the fashion in those days to breed quails. Plato reports, that Socrates having brought Alcibiades to acknow- ledge, that the way to rise to distinction among the Athe- nians, was, to study to excel the generals of their enemies, replied with this severe irony, "No, no, Alcibiades, your only study is how to surpass Midias in the art of breeding quails." Plato in 1 Alcib. t The name of the man who caught the 'nail would 148 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. He had great advantages for introducing him- self into the management of public affairs, from his birth, his estate, his personal valor, and the number of his friends and relations: but what he chose above all the rest to recommend himself by to the people was the charms of his eloquence. That lie was a fine speaker the comic writers bear witness; ami so does the prince of orators, in his oration against Midias,* where he says that Alci- biades was the most eloquent man of his time. And if we believe Theophrastus, a curious search- er into antiquity, and more versed in history than the other philosophers, Alcibiades had a peculiar happiness of invention, and readiness of ideas, which eminently distinguished him. But as his c&re was employed not only upon the matter but the expression, and he had not the greatest facility in the latter, he often hesitated in the midst of a speech, not hitting upon the word he wanted, and stopped until it occurred to him. He was famed for his breed of horses and the number of chariots. For no one beside himself, whether private person or king, ever sent seven chariots at one time to the Olympic games. The first, the second, and the fourth prizes, according to Thucydides, or the third, as Euripides relates it, he bore away at once, which exceeds every- thing performed by the most ambitious in that way. Euripides thus celebrates his success: Great son of Clinias, I record thy glory, First on the dusty plain The threefold prize to gain: What hero boasts thy praise in Grecian story? Twicet does the trumpet's voice proclaim Around the plausive cirque thy honor'd name: Twice on thy brow was seen The peaceful olive's green, The glorious palm of easy-purchased fame.t The emulation which several Grecian cities ex- pressed, in the presents they made him, gave a still greater luster to his success. Ephesus pro- vided a magnificent pavilion for him; Chios was at the expense of keeping his horses and beasts for sacrifice; and Lesbos found him in wine and everything necessary for the most elegant public table. Yet, amidst this success, he escaped not without censure, occasioned either by the. malice of his enemies, or by his own misconduct. It seems there was at Athens one Diomedes, a man of good character, and a friend of Alcibiades, who was very desirous of winning a prize at the Olym- pic games; and being informed that there was a chariot to be sold, which belonged to the city of hardly have been mentioned, had not Alcibiades afterward intrusted him with the command of the fleet in his ab- sence; when he took the opportunity to fight, and was beaten. * It appears from that passage of Demosthenes, that he spoke only from common fame, and consequently that there was little of Alcibiades's then extant. We find some re- mains of his oratory in Thucydides. t Alcibiades won the first, second, and third prizes in person; beside which his chariots won twice in his ab- sence. t Antisthenes, a disciple of Socrates, writes, that Chios fed his horses, and Cyzicus provided his victims. The passage is remarkable, for we learn from it that this was done, not only when Alcibiades went to the Olympic games, but in his warlike expeditions, and even in his travels. " Whenever," says he, "Alcibiades traveled, four cities of the allies ministered to him as his handmaids. Ephesus furnished him with tents as sumptuous as those of the Per- sians; Chios found provender for his horses; Cyzicus sup- plied him with victims and provisions for bis table; and Les- bos with wine and all other necessaries for his household." None but opulent cities were able to answer such an ex- pense: for at the time when Alcibiadej won the three prizes in person at the Olympic games, after he had offered a very costly sacrifice to Jupiter, he entertained at a magnificent past that innumerable company which had assisted at the g&meg. Argos, where Alcibiades had a strong interest, he persuaded him to buy it for him. Accordingly, he did buy it, but kept it for himself, leaving Dio- medes to vent his rage, and to call gods and men to bear witness of the injustice. For this there seems to have been an action brought against him; and there is extant an oration concerning a cha- riot, written by Isocrates, in defense of Alcibiades. then a youth; but there the plaintiff is named Ti- sias, not Diomedes. Alcibiades was very young when he first applied himself to the business of the republic, and yet he soon showed himself superior to the other orators. The persons capable of standing in some degree of competition with him, were Phaeax the son of Erasistratus, and Nicias the son of Niceratus. The latter was advanced in years, and me of the best gen- erals of iiis time. The former was but a youth, like himself, just beginning to make his way; for which he had the advantage of high birth; but in other respects, as well as in the art of speaking, was in- ferior to Alcibiades. He seemed fitter for soliciting and persuading in private, than for stemming the torrent of a public debate; in short, he was one of those of whom Eupolis says, "True, he can talk, and yet he is no speaker." There is extant an oration against Alcibiades and Phaeax, in which, among other things, it is alleged against Alcibi- ades, that he used at his table many of the gold and silver vessels provided for the sacred proces- sions, as if they had been his own. There was at Athens one Hyperbolus, of the ward of Perithois, whom Thucydides makes men- tion of as a very bad man, and who was a constant subject of ridicule for the comic writers. But he was unconcerned at the worst things they could say of him, and being regardless of honor, he was also insensible of shame. This, though really im- pudence and folly, is by some people called forti- tude and a noble daring. But, though no one liked him, the people nevertheless made use of him, when they wanted to strike at persons in author- ity. At his instigation, the Athenians were ready to proceed to the ban of ostracism, by which they pull down and expel such of the citizens as are distinguished by their dignity and power, therein consultingf their envy rather than their fear. As it was evident that this sentence was leveled against one of the three, Phaeax, Nicias, or Alcibi- ad^s, the latter took care to unite the contending parties, and leaguing with Nicias, caused the ostra- cism to fall upon Hyperbolus himself. Some say, it was not Nicias, but Phaeax, with whom Alcibiades joined interest, and by whose assistance he expelled their common enemy, when he expected nothing less. For no vile or infamous person had ever undergone that punishment. So Plato, the comiit poet, assures us, thus speaking of Hyperbolus: Well had the Caitiff earned his banishment, But not by ostracism; that. sentence sacred To dangerous eminence. But we have elsewhere given a more full account of what history has delivered down to us concern- ing this matter.* Alcibiades was not less disturbed at the great esteem in which Nicias was held by the enemies of Athens, than at the respect which the Atheni- ans themselves paid him. The rites of hospitality had long subsisted between the family of Alcibia- des and the Lacedaemonians, and he had taken particular care of such of them as were made pris- oners at Pylos; yet when they found that it was chiefly by the means of Nicias that they obtained a peace and recovered the captives, their regards In the lives of Aristide* and Nicia*. AL CIBI AD ES. 149 centered in him. It was a common observation among the Greeks, that Pericles had engaged them in a war, and Nicias had set them free from it; nay, the peace was even called the Nician peace. Alcibiades was very uneasy at this, and out of envy of Nicias, determined to break the league. As soon, then, as he perceived that the people of Argos, both feared and hated the Spartans, and consequently wanted to get clear of all con- nection with them, he privately gave them hopes of assistance from Athens; and both by his agents and in person, he encouraged the principal citi- zens not to entertain any fear, or to give up any point, but to apply to the Athenians, who were almost ready to repent of the peace they had made, and would soon seek occasion to break it. But after the Lacedaemonians had entered into alliance with the Boeotians, and had delivered Pan- actus to the Athenians, not with its fortifications, as they ought to have done, but quite dismantled, he took the opportunity, while the Athenians were incensed at this proceeding, to inflame them still more. At the same time, he raised a clamor against Nicias, alleging things which had a face of probability; for he reproached him with having neglected, when corninander-in-chief, to make that* party prisoners who were left by the enemy in Sphacteria, and with releasing them, when ta- ken by others, to ingratiate himself with the Lace- daemonians; he farther asserted, that though Nicias had an interest with the Lacedaemonians, he would not make use of it to prevent their entering into the confederacy with the Boeotians and Corinthi- ans: but that when an alliance was offered to the Athenians by any of the Grecian states, he took care to prevent their accepting it, if it were likely to give umbrage to the Lacedemonians. Nicias was greatly disconcerted; but at that very juncture it happened that ambassadors from Lace- dernon arrived with moderate proposals, and de- clared that they had full powers to treat and decide all differences in an equitable way. The senate was satisfied, and next day the people were to be convened: but Alcibiades, dreading the success of that audience, found means to speak with the am- bassadors in the meantime; and thus he addressed them: " Men of Laceda3tnon! what is it you are going to do? Are not you apprized that the be- havior of the senate is always candid and humane to those who apply to it, whereas the people are haughty, and expect great concessions? If you say tiiat you are corne with full powers, you will find them intractable and extravagant in their de- mands. Come, then, retract that imprudent de- claration, and if you desire to keep the Athenians within the bounds of reason, and not to have terms extorted from you, which you cannot approve, treat with them as if you had not a discretionary commission. I will use my best endeavors in fa- vor of the Lacedaemonians." He confirmed his * After the Lacedaemonians had lost the fort of Pylos in Messenia, they left, in the isle of Sphacteria, which was opposite that, fort, a garrison of three hundred and twenty men, beside Helots, under the command of Epitades, the son of Molobrus. The Athenians would have sent Nicias, while commander-in-chief, with a fleet against that island, but he excused himself. Afterward Cleon, in conjunction with Demosthenes, got possession of it, after a long dis- pute, wherein several of the garrison were slain, and the rest made prisoners, and sent to Athens. Among those prisoners were an hundred and twenty Spartans, who, by the assistance of Nicias, got released. The Lacedaemoni- ans afterward recovered the fort of Pylos: for Anytus, who was sent with a squadron to support it, finding the wind di- rectlv against it, returned to Athens; upon which the peo- ple, according to their usual custom, condemned him to die; which sentence, however, he commuted by paying a vast sum of money, being the first who reversed a judgment in that manner. " promise with an oath, and thus drew them over from Nicias to himself. In Alcibiades, they now placed an entire confidence, admiring both his un- derstanding and address in business, and regarding him as a very extraordinary man. Next day the people assembled, and the ambas- sadors were introduced. Alcibiades asked them in an obliging manner, what their commission was, and they answered, that they did not come as ple- nipotentiaries. Then he began to rave and storm, as if he had received an injury, not done one; and calling them faithless, prevaricating men, who were come neither to do nor to say anything hon- orable. The senate was incensed; the people were enraged; and Nicias, who was ignorant of the de- ceitful contrivance of Alcibiades, was filled with astonishment and confusion at this change. The proposals of the ambassadors thus rejected, Alcibiades was declared general, and soon engaged the Argives,* the Mantineans, and Eleans, as allies to the Athenians. Nobody commended the man- ner of this transaction, but the effect was very great, since it divided and embroiled almost all Peloponnesus, in one day lifted so many arms against the Lacedemonians at Mantinea, and re- moved to so great a distance from Athens the scene of war; by which the Lacedaemonians, if victorious, could gain no great advantage, whereas a miscarriage would have risked the very being of their state. Soon after this battle atMantinea,t the principal officers^ of the Argive army attempted to abolish the popular government in Argos, and to take the administration into their own hands. The Lace- demonians espoused the design, and assisted them to carry it into execution. But the people took up arms again, and defeated their new masters; and Alcibiades coming to their aid, made the vic- tory more complete. At the same time, he per- suaded them to extend their walls down to the sea, that they might always be in a condition to receive succors from the Athenians. From Athens he sent them carpenters and masons,exerting himself greatly on this occasion, which tended to increase his personal interest and power, as well as that of his country. He advised the people of Patroe, too, to join their city to the sea by long walls. And somebody observing to the Patrensians, "That the Athenians would one day swallow them up;" "Possibly it maybe so," said Alcibiades, "but they will begin with the feet, and do it by little and little, whereas the Lacedemonians will begin with the head, and do it all at once." He exhorted the Athenians to assert the empire of the land., as well as of the sea; and was ever putting the young warriors in mind, to show by their deeds that they remembered the oath they had taken in the tem- ple of Agraulos. The oath is, that they will con- * He concluded a league with these states for a hundred years, which Thucydides has inserted at full length in his fifth book; and by which we learn that the treaties of the ancient Greeks were no less perfect and explicit than ours. Their treaties were of as little consequence too: for how soon was that broken which the Athenians had made with the Lacedaemonians! t That battle was fought nearly three years after the con- clusion of the treaty with Argos. J Those officers availed themselves of the consternai ion the people of Argos were in after the loss of the battle; and the- Lacedaemonians gladly supported them, from a per- suasion that if the popular government were abolished, and an aristocracy (like that of Sparta) set up in Argos, they should soon be masters there. Agraulos, one of the daughters of Cecrops, had devoted herself to death for the benefit of her country; it has been supposed, therefore, that the oath which the young Athe. nians took, bound them to do something of that nature, if need should require; though, as given by Plutarch, .t im- plies only an unjust resolution to extend the Athenian do- 150 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. sider wheat, barley, vine, and olives, as the bounds of Attica; by which it is insinuated, that they should endeavor to possess themselves of ail lands that are cultivated and fruitful. But these, his great abilities in politics, his elo- quence, his reach of genius and keenness of appre- hension, were tarnished by his luxurious living, his drinking, and debauches, his effeminacy of dress, and his insolent profusion. He wore a pur- ple robe with a long train, when he appeared in public. He caused the planks of his galley to be cut away, that he might lie the softer, his bed not being placed upon the boards, but hanging upon girths. And in the wars lie wore a shield of gold, which had none of the usual ensigns* of his coun- try, but in their stead, a Cupid bearing a thunder- bolt. The great men of Athens saw his behavior witli uneasiness and indignation, and even dreaded the consequence. They regarded his foreign man- ners, his profusion, and contempt of the laws, as so many means to make himself absolute. And Aristophanes well expresses how the bulk of the people were disposed toward him: They love, they hate, but cannot live without him. And again he satirizes him still more severely by the following allusion: Nurse not a lion's whelp within your walls, But if he is brought up there, soothe the brute. The truth is, his prodigious liberality; the games he exhibited, and the other extraordinary instances of his munificence to the people, the glory of his ancestors, the beauty of his person, and the force of his eloquence, together with his heroic strength, his valor, and experience in war, so gained upon the Athenians, that they connived at his errors, and spoke of them with all imagina- ble tenderness, calling them sallies of youth, and good-humored frolics. Such were his confining Agatharcus the painter, f until he had painted his house, and then dismissing him with a handsome present; his giving a box on the ear to Taureus, who exhibited games in opposition to him, and vied with him for the preference; and his taking one of the captive Melian women for his mistress, and bringing up a child he had by her. These were what they called his good humored frolics. But surely we cannot bestow that appellation upon the slaughtering of all the males in the isle of Melos,J who had arrived at years of puberty, which was in consequence of a decree that he pro- moted. Again, when Aristophon had painted the courtesan Nemea with AlcibLides in her arms, many of the people eagerly crowded to see it, but such of the Athenians as were more advanced in minions to all lands that were worth seizing. Demosthenes mentions the oath in his oration Defals. legal, but does not explnin it. * Both cities and private persons had, of old, their ensigns, devices, or arms. Those of the Athenians were commonly Minerva, the owl, or the olive. None but people of figure were allowed to bear any devices; nor even they, until they had performed some action to deserve them; in the mean time their shields were plain white. Alcibiades, in his de- vice, referred to the beauty of his person and his martial prowess. Mottoes, too, were used. Capaneus, for instance, bore a naked man with a torch in his hand; the motto this, I will burn the citu. See more in ^Eschvlus's tragedy of the Sri-en Chiefs. t This painter had been familiar with Alcibiades's mis- tress. t The isle of Melos, one of the Cyclades, and a colony of Lacedaimon, was attempted by Alcibiades, the last year of the nineteenth Olympiad, and taken the ye:sr following Thucydides, who has given us an account of this slaughter of the Melians, makes no mention of the decree. Probably he was willing to have the carnage thought the effect of a sudden transport in the soldiery, and not of a cruel and cool resolution of the j-eople of Athens. years, were much displeased, and considered thes as sights fit only for a tyrant's court, and as in- sults on the laws of Athens. Nor was it ill ob- served by Archestratus, "that Greece could not bear another Alcibiades." When Timon, ftuned for his misanthropy, saw Alcibiades, after having gained his point, conducted home with great hon- or from the place of assembly, he diu not shun him, as he did other men, but went up to him, and shaking him by the hand, thus addressed him, "Go on, my brave boy, and prosper; for your prosperity will bring on the ruin of all this crowd." Tiiis occasioned several reflections; some laughed, some railed, and others were extremely moved at the saying. So various were the judgments formed of Alcibiades, by reason of the inconsistency of his character. In the time of Pericles,* the Athenians had u desire after Sicily, and when he had paid the last debt to nature, they attempted it; frequently, un- der pretense of succoring their allies, sending aids of men and money to such of the Sicilians as were attacked by the Syracusans. This was a step to greater armaments. But Alcibiades in- flamed this desire to an irresistible degree, and persuaded them not to attempt the island in part, and by little and little, but to send a powerful fleet, entirely to subdue it. He inspired the peo- ple with hopes of great things, and indulged him- self in expectations still more lofty: for he did not, like the rest, consider Sicily as the end of his wishes, but rather as an infroduction to the mighty expeditions he had conceived. And while ISicias was dissuading the people from the siege of Syra- cuse, as a business too difficult to succeed in, Al- cibiades was dreaming of Carthage and of Libya: and after these were gained, he designed to grasp Italy and Peloponnesus, regarding Sicily as little more than a magazine for provisions and warlike stores. The young men immediately entered into his schemes, and listened with great attention to those who under the sanction of age related wonders concerning the intended expeditions, so that many of them sat whole days in the places of exercise, drawing in the dust the figure of the island and plans of Libya and Carthag?. However, we are informed, that Socrates the philosopher, and Melon the astrologer, were far from expecting that these wars would turn to the advantage, of Athens: former, it should seem, influenced by some prophetic notices with which he was favored by the genius who attended him; and the latter either by reasonings which led him to fear what wus to come, or elsa by knowledge with which his art supplied him. Be that as it may, Meton feigned limself mad, and taking a flaming torcli, attempt- ed to set his house on fire. Others say, that he made use of no such pretense, but burned down his house in the night, and in the morning went and begged of the people to excuse his son Pericles, by his prudence and authority, had restrained this extravagant ambition of the Athenians, lie died tha last year of the eighty-seventh Olympiad, in the third yeai of the Peloponnesian war. Two years after this, the Athe- nians sent some ships to Rhegium, which were to go fro> thence to the succor of the Leontines, who were attacked by the Syracusans. The year following they >enl a still greater number; and two years after that, they fitted out another fleet of a greater force than the former; but the Si cilians having put an end to their divisions, and by the ad vice of Hermocrates (whose speech Thucydides, in his fourth book, gives us at large), having sent back the fleet, the Athenians were so enraged at their generals for not having conquered Sicily, that they banished two of them, Pythodorus and Sophocles, and laid a heavy line upon Eu- rymedon. So infatuated were they by their prosperity, that they imagined themselves irresistible. ALCIBI ADES. 151 -torn that campaign, that he might be a comfort o him under his misfortune. By this artifice he imposed upon tliem, and gained his point. Nicias was appointed one of the generals, much against his inclination; for lie would have declined the command, if it hud been only on account of his having such a colleague. The Athenians, however, thought the war would be better con- ducted, if they did not give free scope to the im- petuosity of Alcibiades, but tempered his boldness with the prudence of Nicias. For as to the third general, Lanmchus, though well advanced in years, he did not seem to come at all short of Alcibiades in heat and rashness. When they c-trne to deliberate about the num- \>er of the troops, and the necessary preparations for the armament, Nicias again opposed their measures, and endeavored to prevent the war. But Alcibiades replying to his arguments, and carrying all before him, the orator Demosthenes Droposed a decree, that the generals should have ,he absolute direction of the war, and of all the preparations for it. When the people had given their assent, and everything was got ready for Bet- ting sail, unlucky omens occurred, even on a fes- tival that was celebrated at that time. It was the feast of Adonis;* the women walked in procession with images, which represented the dead carried out to burial, acting the lamentations, and singing the mournful dirges usual on such occasions. Add to this, the mutilating and disfiguring of almost all the statues of Mercury. f which happen- ed in one night, a circumstance which alarmed even those who had long despised things of that nature It was imputed to tiie Corinthians, of whom the Syracus ins were a colony; and they were supposed to have done it, in hopes that sucu a prodigy might induce the Athenians to desist from the war. But the people paid little regard 10 this insinuation, or to the discourses of those who said that there was no manner of ill presage in what had happened, and that it was nothing but the wild frolic of a parcel of young fellows, flushed with wine, and bent on some extravagance. In- dignation and fear made them take this event uc-t only for a bad omen, but for the consequence of a plot which aimed at, great matters; and therefore both senate and people assembled several times, within a few days, and very strictly examined every suspicious circumstance. In the meantime, the demagogue Androcles pro- duced some Athenian slaves and certain sojourn- ers, who accused Alcibiades and his friends of de- facing some other statues, and of mimicking the sacred mysteries in one of their drunken revels: nn which occasion, they said one Theodorus rep- resented the herald, Polytion the torch-bearer, and Alcibiades the high-priest; his other companions attending as persons initiated, and therefore call- ed Myst;e. Such was the import of the deposi- tion of Thessalus the son of Cimon, who accused Alcibiades of impiety toward the goddesses Ceres and Proserpine. The people being much pro- voked at Alcibiades, and Androcles, his bitterest * On. the feast of Adonis :ill the cities put themselves in mourning; coffins were exposed at every door; the statues of Venus and Adonis were borne in procession, with certain vessels filled with eart.h, in which they had raised corn, herbs, and lettuce, and these vessels were called the gardens H/" Adonis. After the ceremony was over, the garden* were thrown into the sea or some river. This festival was cele- brated throughout all Greece and Egypt, and amon-' the Jews too, when they degenerated into idolatry, as we learn from Ezckiel, viii. ]4. Jlivl lie hold, there sat women weeping for Tammuz, that is, Adonis. t The Athenians had statues of Mercury at the doors of their houses, made of stones of a cubical form. enemy, exasperating them still more, at first he was somewhat disconcerted. But when he per- ceived that the seamen and soldiers too, intended for the Sicilian expedition, were on his side, aud heard a body of Argives aud Mantineans, consist- ing of a thousand men, declare that they were wil- ling to cross the seas, and to run the risk of a foreign war for the sake of Alcibiades, but that if any injury were done to him, they would immediately march home again: then he recovered his spirits, and appeared to defend himself. It was now his enemies' turn to be discounged, and to fear that the people, on account of the need they had of him, would be favorable in their sentence. To obviate this inconvenience, they persuaded certain orators, who were not reputed to be his enemies, but hated him as heartily as the most professed ones, to move it to the people, " That it was ex- tremely absur.d, that a general who was invested with a discretionary power, and a very important command, when the troops were collected, and the allies all ready to sail, should lose time, while they were casting lots for judges, and filling the glasses with water, to measure out the time of his defense. In the name of the gods, let him sail, and when the war is concluded, be accountable to the laws, which will still be the same." Alcibiades easily saw their malicious drift, in wanting to put off the trial, and observed, " That it would be an intolerable hardship to leave such accusations and calumnies behind him, and he sent out with so important a commission, while he was in suspense as to his own fate. That he ought to suffer death, if he could not clear him- self of the charge; but if he could prove his inno- cence, justiee required that he should be set free from all fear of false accusers, before they sent him against their enemies." But he could not obtain that favor. He was indeed ordered to set sail;* which he accordingly did, together with his colleagues, having nearly a hundred and forty galleys in his company, five thousand one hun- dred heavy armed soldiers, and about a thousand three hundred archers, slingers, and others light- armed; with suitable provisions and stores. Arriving on the coast of Italy, he landed at Rhegiurn. There he gave his opinion as to the manner in which the war should be conducted, and was opposed by Nicias: but as Lamachus agreed with him, he sailed to Sicily, and made himself master of Catana. This was all he per- formed, being soon sent far by the Athenians to take his trial. At first, as we have observed, there was nothing against him but slight suspicions, and the depositions of slaves and persons who sojourned in Athens. But his enemies look ad- vantage of his absence, to bring new matter of impeachment, adding to the mutilating of the statues, his sacrilegious behavior with respect to the mysteries, and alleging that both these crimes flowed from the same source,f a conspiracy to change the government. All that were accused of being any ways concerned in it, they commit- ted to prison unheard ; and they repented ex- ceedingly, that they had not immediately brought Alcibiades to his trial, and got him condemned upon so heavy a charge. While this fury lasted, every relation, every friend and acquaintance of his, was very severely dealt with by the people * The second year of the eighty-first Olympiad, and lev. enteenth of the Peloponne.sian war. t They gave out, that he had entered into a conspiracy to betray the city of the Lacedffiinon.nr.s, and lliat he had persuaded the Arrives to undertake something to their pre- judice. 152 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Thucydides has omitted the names of the ac- cusers, but others mention Dioclides and Teucer. So Phrynichus, the comic poet, Good Hermes, pray, beware a fall; nor break Thy marble nose, lest some false Dioclides Once more his shafts in fatal poison drench. Merc. I will. Nor e'er again shall that informer, Teucer, that faithless stranger, boast from me Rewards tor perjury. Indeed, no clear or strong evidence was given by the informers. One of them being asked how he could distinguish the faces of those who disfigured the statues, answered, that he discerned them by the light of the moou ; which was a plain falsity, for it was done at the time of the moon's change. Ail persons of understanding exclaimed against such baseness ; but this detection did not in the least pacify the people ; they went on with the same rage and violence with which they had begun, taking informations, and committing all lo prison whose names were given in. Among those that were then imprisoned, in order to their trial, was the orator Andocides, whom Hellanicus, the historian, reckons among the descendants of Ulysses. He was thought to be no friend to a popular government, but a favorer of oligarchy. What contributed not a little to his being suspected of having some con- cern in defacing the Henna, was, that the great statue of Mercury, which was placed near his house, being consecrated to that god by the tribe called the /Egeis, was almost the only one, amoi^g the most remarkable, which was left entire. Therefore, to this day it is called the Hermes of Andocides, and that title universally prevails, though the inscription does not agree with it. It happened, that among those who were im- prisoned on the same account, Andocides con- tracted an acquaintance and friendship witli one Tima3us : a man not equal in rank to himself, but of uncommon parts and a daring spirit. He ad vised Andocides to accuse himself and a few more; because the decree promised impunity to any one that would confess and inform, whereas the event of the trial was uncertain to all, and much to be dreaded by such of them as were persons of dis Unction. He represented that it was better to save his life by a falsity, than to suffer an infamous death as one really guilty of the crime; and that with respect to the public it would be an advan- tage to give up a few persons of dubious charac- ter, in order to rescue many good men from an enraged populace. Andocides was prevailed upon by these argu- ments of Timseus; and informing ag'ainst himself and some others, enjoyed the impunity promised by the decree ; but all the rest whom he named were capitally punished, except a few that fled. Nay, to procure the greater credit to his deposi- tions, he accused even his own servants. However, the fury of the people was not so satisfied, but turning from the persons who had disfigured the Henna, as if it had reposed awhile only to recover its strength, it fell totally upon Alcibiades. At last they sent the Salaminian galley to fetch him, artfully enough ordering thei. oflicer not to use violence, or to lay hold of his person, but to behave to him with civility, and to acquaint him with the people's orders, that he should go and take his trial, and clear himself be- fore them. For they were apprehensive of some tumult and mutiny in the army, now it was in ar enemy's country, which Alcibiades, had he been so disposed, might have raised with all the ease in the world. Indeed, the soldiers expressed grea uneasiness at his leaving them, and expected that the war would be spun out to a great length by the dilatory counsels of Nicias, when the spur was taken away. Limachus, indeed, was bold and brave, but he was wanting both in dignity and weight, by reason of his poverty. Alcibiades immediately embarked:* the conse- quence of which was, that the Athenians could not take Messena. There were persons in the town r.-ady to betray it, whom Alcibiades perfectly knew, and as he apprised some that were friends to the Syracusans of their intention, the affair miscarried. As soon as he arrived at Thurii, he went on shore, and concealing himself there, eluded the search that was made after him. But some per- son knowing him, and saying, " Will not you, then, trust your country?" he answered, "As to anything else I will trust her; but with my life I would not trust even my mother, lest she should mistake a black bean for a white one." After- ward, being told that the republic had condemned him to die, he said, "But I will make them find that I am alive." The information against him ran thus: " Thes- salus, the son of Cimon, of the ward of Lacias, accuseth Alcibiades, the son of Ciinias, of the ward of Scambonis, of sacrilegiously offending the goddesses Ceres and Proserpine, by counter- feiting their mysteries, and showing them to his companions in his own house. Wearing such a robe as the high-priest does while he shows the holy things, he called himself high-priest, as he did Polytion torch-bearer, and Theodorus of the ward of Phygea, herald: and the rest of his com- panions he called persons initiated,^ and brethren of the secret: herein acting contrary to the rules and ceremonies established by the Eumolpida3,$ the heralds and priests at Eleusis." As he did not appear, they condemned him, confiscated his goods, and ordered all the priests and priestesses to denounce an execration against him; which was denounced accordingly by all but Theno, the daughter of Menon, priestess of the temple cf Agraulos, who excused herself, alleging that she was a priestess for prayer, not for execration. While these decrees and sentences were passing against Alcibiades, he was at Argos ; having quitted Thurii, which no longer afforded him a safe asylum, to come into Peloponnesus. Still dreading his enemies, and giving up all hopes of being restored to his country, he sent to Sparta to desire permission to live there under the protec- tion of the public faith, promising lo serve that state more effectually, now he was their friend, than he had annoyed them while their enemy. The Spartans granting him a safe conduct, and expressing their readiness to receive him, he went thither with pleasure. One thing he soon effected, which was to procure succors for Syracuse with- out farther hesitation or delay, having persuaded them to send Gylippus thither, to take upon him the direction of the war, and to crush the Athe- nian power in Sicily. Another thing which he * He prudently embarked in a vessel of his own, and no* in the Salaminian galley. tThe Mysta, or persons initiated, were to remain a yeai under probation, during which time they were to go no further than the vestibule of the temple; after that term was expired they were called epoptie, and admitted to alJ the mysteries, except such as were reserved for the priesti only. " J Eumolpus was the first who settled these mysteries of Ceres, tor which reason his descendants had the cure of them after him; and when his line failed, those who suc- ceeded in the function were, notwithstanding, called o> molpidtE. ALCIBIADES. 153 persuaded them to, was to declare war against the Athenians, and to begin its operations oa the con- tinent: and the third, which was the most impor- tant of all, was to get Decelea fortified; for this being ia the neighborhood of Athens, was pro- ductive of great mischief to that commonwealth.* These measures procured Alcibiades tiie public approbation at Sparta, and he was no less admired for his manner of living in private. By conform- ing to their uiet and other austerities, lie charmed and captivated the people. When th -y saw him cio.se shaved, bathing in cold water, feeding on their coarse bread, or eating their black broth, they could hardly believe that such a man had ever kept a cook in his house, seen a perfumer, or worn a robe of Milesian purple. It seems, that among his other qualifications, he had the very extraordinary art of engaging the affections of those with whom he conversed, by imitating and adopting their customs and way of living. Nay, he turned himself into all manner of forms witli more ease than the chameleon changes his color. It is not, we are told, in that animal's power to assume a white, but Alcibiades could adapt him- self either to good or bad, and did not find any- thing which lie attempted impracticable. Thus, at iSparta, he was all for exercise, frugal in his diet, and severe in his manners. In Asia he was as much for mirth and pleasure, luxury, and ease. In Thrace, again, riding and drinking were his favorite amusements: and in the palace of Tissa- phernes, the Persian grandee, he outvied the Per- sians themselves in pomp and splendor. Not that he could with so much ease change his real manners, or approve in his heart the form which he assumed; but because he knew that his native manners would be unacceptable to those whom he happened to be with, he immediately con- formed to the ways and fashions of whatever place he came to. When he was at Lacedamion, if you regarded only his outside, you would say as the proverb uoes, This is not the son of Achilles, but Achilles himself; this man has surely been brought up under the eye of Lycurgus: but then If you looked more nearly into his disposition and his actions, you would exclaim, with Electra in the poem, The same weak woman still!^ For while king Agis was employed in a distant expe- dition, he corrupted his wife Tima?a so effectually, that she was with child by him, and did not pre- tend to deny it; and when she was -delivered of a son, though in public she called him Leotychidas, yet in her own house she whispered to her female friends and to her servants, that his true name was Alcibiades. To such a degree, was the woman transported by her passion. And Alcibiades him- self, indulging his vein of mirth, used to say, "His motive was not to injure the king, or to satisfy his appetite, but that his offspring might one day sit on the throne of Lacedremon." Agis * Agis, king of Sparta, at the head of a very numerous army of Laceditmoiuuns, Corinthians, and other nations of Peloponnesus, invaded AttioH, and, according to the ad- vice which Alcibiades had given, seized and fortified De- celea, which stood at an equal distance from Athens and the frontiers of Boeotia, and hy means of which the Athe- nians were now deprived of the profits of the silver mines, of the rents of their lands, and of the succors of their neigiihors. Hat the greatest misfortune which happened to the Athenians, from the beginning of the w:tr to this time, was that which befell them this year in Sicily, where they not only lost the conquest they aimed at, together with the Wpntation they had so long maintained, but their fleet, their limy, and their generals. t This is spoken of Llermione, in the Orestes of Euripi- des, upon her discovering the same vanity and solicitude about her beauty, when advanced in years, that she had when she was young. had information of these matters from several hands, and he was the more ready to give credit to them, because they agreed with the time. Ter- rified with an earthquake, he had quitted his wife's chamber, to which he returned not for tho next ten months: at the end of which Leotychidas being born, he declared the child was< not his: and for this reason he was never suffered ta inherit the crown of Sparta. After the miscarriage of the Athenians in Sicily, the people of Chios, of Lesbos, and Cyzicum, sent to treat, with the Spartans about quitting the inte- rest of Athens, and putting themselves under the protection of Sparta. The Bosotians on this occasion, solicited for the Lesbians, and Pharna- bazns for the people of Cyzicum; but at the per- suasion of Alcibiades, succors were sent to those of Chios before all others. He likewise passed over into Ionia, and prevailed with almost all that country to revolt, and attending the Lacedaemo- nian generals in tho execution of most of their commissions, he did great prejudice to the Athe- nians. But Agis, who was already his enemy, on ac- count of the injury done to his bed, could not endure his glory and prosperity; for most of the present successes were ascribed to Alcibiades. The great and the ambitions among the Spartans were, indeed, in general, touched with envy; and had influence enough with the civil magistrates, to procure orders to be sent to their friends in loula to kill him. But timely foreseeing his danger, and cautioned by his fears, in every step he took, he still served the Lacedaemonians, taking care all the while not to put himself in their power. In- stead of that, he sought the protection of Tissa phernes, one of the grandees of Persia, or lieuten- ants of the king. With this Persian he soon attained the highest cre.iit and authority: for him- self a very subtile and insincere man, he admired the art and keenness of Alcibiades. Indeed, by the elegance of his conversation and the charms of his politeness, every man was gained: all hearts were touched. Even those that feared and envied him, were not insensible to pleasure in his com- pany; and while they enjoyed it, their resentment was disarmed. Tissaphernes, in all other cases, savage in his temper, and the bitterest enemy that Greece experienced among the Persians, gave himself up, notwithstanding, to the flatteries of Alcibiades, insomuch that be even vied with, and exceeded him in address. For of all his gardens, that which excelled in beauty, which was remark- able fur the salubrity of its streams and the fresh ness of its meadows, which was set off with pavilions royally adorned, and retirements finished in the most elegant taste, he distinguished by the name of ALCIJUADES: and every one continued to give it that appellation. Rejecting, therefore, the interests of Lacedfe- mon, and fearing that people as treacherous to him, he represented them and their king Agis, in a disadvantageous light, to Tissaphernes. Ha advised him not to assist them effectually, nor absolutely to ruin the Athenians, but to send his subsidies to Sparta with a sparing hand: that so the two powers might insensibly weaken and consume each other, and both at last be easily subjected to the king. Tissaphernes readily fol- lowed his counsoJs, and it was evident to all the world that he held him in the greatest admiration and esteem; which made him equally considerable with the Greeks of both parties. The Athenians repented of the sentence they had passed upon him, because they had suffered for it since; and Aloibiades, oil his side, was under some fear a ad 154 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Concern, lest, if their republic were destroyed, he [and his party to be crowned for dispatching should full into the hands of the Lacedaemonians, who hated him. At that time, the whole strength of the Atheni- ans kiy at Sarnos. With their ships sent out from thence, they recovered some of the towns which had revolted, and others they kept to their duty; and at sea they were in some measure able to make head against th Mr enemies. But they were afraid of Tissaphernes, and the Phoenician fleet of a hundred and fifty ships, which were said to be coming against them; for against such a force they could not hope to defend themselves. Alcibiades, apprised of this, privately sent a mes- senger to the principal Athenians at Samos, to give them hopes that he would procure them the friendship of Tissaphernes : not to recommend himself to the people, whom he could not trust; but to oblige the nobility, if they would but exert their superiority, repress the insolence of the commonalty, and, taking the government into th -ir own hands, by that means save their coun- try. All the officers readily embraced his proposal, except Piirynichus, who was of the ward of Dira- des. lie alone suspected, what was really the case, that it was a matter of very little consequence to Alcibiades whether an oligarchy or democracy prevailed in Athens; that it was his business to get himself recalled by any means whatever, and that, therefore, by his invectives against the people, he wanted only to insinuate himself into the good graces of the nobility. Upon these reasons proceeded the opposition of Phrynichus: but se ing his opinion disregarded, and that Alci- biades must certainly become his enemy, he gave secret intelligence to Astyochus, the enemy's ad- miral, of the douhle part which Alcibiades acted, Advising him to beware of his designs, and to secure his person. But he knew not that while he was betraying, he was himself betrayed. For Astyochus, wanting to make his court to Tissa- phernes, informed Alcibiades of the affair, who, he knew, had the ear of that grandee. Alcibiades immediately sent proper persons to Samos, with an accusation against Phrynichus; who, seeing no other resource, as everybody was against him, and expressed great indignation at his behavior, attempted to cure one evil with an- other and a greater. For he sent to Astyochus to complain of his revealing his secret, and to offer to deliver up to him the whole Athenian fleet and army. This treason of Phrynichus, however, did no injury to the Athenians, because it was uguin betrayed by Astyochus; for lie laid the whole matter before Alcibiades. Phrynichus had the sa- gacity to foresee and expect another accusation from Alcibiades, and, to be beforehand with him, he himself forewawied the Athenians, that the enemy would endeavor to surprise them, and, therefore, desired them to be upon their guard, to keep on board their ships, and to fortify their camp. While the Atht nians were doing this, letters came from Alcibiat-js again, advising them to be- ware of Phrynichus, who had undertaken to betray their fleet to the enemy; but they gave no credit to these dispatches, supposing that Alcibiades, who perfectly knew the preparations and intentions of the enemy, abused lhat knowledge to the raising of such a calirnuy against Phrynichus. Yet af- terward, when Phrynichus was stabbed in full assembly by one of Herrnon's soldiers, who kept guard that day, the Athenians taking cognizance of the matter, after his death, condemned Phryni- chus. as guilty of treason, and ordered Hermou traitor. The friends of Alcibiades who now had a supe- rior interest at Samos, sent Pisander to Athens, to change the form of government, by encouraging the nobility to assume it, and to deprive the people of their power and privileges, as the condition upon which Alcibiades would procure them the friendship and alliance of Tissaphernes. This was the color of the pretense made use of by those who wanted to introduce an oligarchy. But when that body which were called the jive 'thousand, but in fact were only four hundred,* had got the power into their hands, they paid but little atten- tion to Alcibiades, and carried on the war but slowly: partly distrusting the citizens who did not yet relish the new form of government, and partly hoping that the Lacedaemonians, who were always inclined to favor an oligarchy, would not press them with their usual vigor. Such of the commonalty as were at home, were silent through fear, though much against their will; for a number of those who had openly op- posed the four hundred, were put to death. But when they that were at Samos were informed of the affair, they were highly incensed at it, and inclined immediately to set sail for the Pyreeua In tho first place, however, they sent for Alcibia- des, and having appointed him their general, ordered him to lead them against the tyrants, and demolish both them and their power. On such an occasion, almost any other man, suddenly exalted by the favor of the multitude, would have thought he must have complied with all their humors, and not have contradicted those in anything, who, from a fugitive and a banished man, had raised him to be commander- in-chief of such a fleet and army. But he behaved as became a great general, and prevented their plunging into erro* through the violence of their rage. This care of his evidently was the saving of tiie common- wealth. For if they had sailed home, as they pro- mised, the enemy would have seized on Ionia immediately, and have gained the Hellespont and the islands without striking a stroke: while the Athenians would have been engaged in a civil war, of which Athens itself would have been the seat. All this was prevented chiefly by Alcibia- des, who not only tried what arguments would do with the army in general, and informed them of their danger, bifT applied to them one by one, using entreaties to some and force to others; in which he was assisted by the loud harangues of Thrasybulus, of the ward of Stira, who attended him through the whole, and had the strongest voice of any man among the Athenians. Another great service performed by Alcibiades^ was, his undertaking that the Phoenician fleeb, which the Lacedaemonians expected from the king of Persia, should either join the Athenians, or at least not act on the enemy's side. In consequence of this promise, he set out as expeditions!)- as pos- sible; and prevailed upon Tissaphernes not to forward the ships, which were already come far as Aspendus, but to disappoii t and deceive the * It was at first proposed, that only the dregs of the pep pie should lose their authority, which was to be vested in live thousand of the most wealthy, who were for the future to be reputed the people. But when Pisamler and his asso- ciates found the strength of their party, they carried it that the old tonn of government should be dissolved, and that rive Prytancs should be elected; that these rive should choose a hundred; that each of the hundred should choose three; that the four hundred thus elected should become a senate with supreme power, anu should consult the five thousand only when and on such matteis as they thought tit. ALCIBI ADES. 155 Lacedaemonians. Nevertheless, both sides, and particularly the Lacedaemonians, accused Alci- biades of hindering that fleet from coming to their aid; fur they supposed he had instructed the Per- sians to leave the Greeks to destroy each other. And, indeed, it was obvious enough, that such a force added to either side, would entirely have deprived the other of the dominion of the sea. After this the four hundred were soon quashed,* the friends of Alcibiades very readily assisting those who were for a democracy. And now the people in the city not only wished fr him, but commanded him to return;} yet he thought it not best to return with empty hands, or without having effected something worthy of note, but instead of being indebted to the compassion and favor of the multitude, to distinguish his appearance by his merit. Parting, therefore, from Santos with a few ships, he cruised on the sea of Cnidus and about the isle of Coos, where he got intelligence that Miudarus, the Spartan admiral, was sailed with his whole fleet toward the Hellespont, to find out the Athenians. This made him hasten to the assis- tance of the latter, and fortunately enough he arrived with his eighteen ships at the very junc- ture of time, when the two fleets having engaged near Abydos, continued the fi^ht from morning until niiihl, one side having the advantage in the right wing, and the other on the left. On the appearance of his squadron, both sides entertained a faise opinion of the end of his coming; for the, Spirtans were encouraged and the Athe- nians struck with terror. But he soon hoisted the Athenian flag on the admiral galley, and bore down directly upon the Peloponnesians, who now had the advantage, and were urging the pursuit. His vigorous impression put them to flight, and following them close, he drove them ashore, de- stroying their ships, and killing such of the men as endeavored to save themselves by swimming: though Pharnabazus succored them all he could from the shore, and with an armed force attempted to save their vessels. The conclusion was, that the Athenians, having taken thirty of the enemy's ships, and recovered their own, erected a trophy. After this glorious success, Alcibiades, ambi- tious to show himself as soon as possible to Tissa- phernes, prepared presents and other proper acknowledgments for his friendship and hospita- lity, and then went to wait upon him, with a princdy train. But he was not welcomed in the manner he expected: for Tiss-tphernes, who for some time had been accused by the Lacedajrnoni- ans, and was apprehensive that the charge might reach the king's ear, thought the coming of Alci- biads a very seasonable incident, and therefore put him under arrest, and confined him at Sardis, imagining that injurious proceeding would be a means to clear himself. Thirty days al't >r, Alcibiades having by som means or other obtained a horse, escaped from his keepers, and fled to Clazomenae: and, by way of revenge, he pretended that Tiss-tphernes pri- vately set him at liberty. From thence he passed to the place where the Athenians were stationed; and h'Miig informed that Mindarus and Pharna- bazus were together at Cyzicum, he showed the troops that it was necessary for them to fight both * The same year that they were set tip, which was the second of the ninety-second Olympiad. The reader must carefully distinguish this faction oi* four hundred from the senate of four hundred established by Solon, which these turned out, the few months they were in power. t Thuuydides doe* not speak of this arrival of Alcibiades, but probably he did not live to have a clear account of this action, for he died this year. Xenophon, who continued his history, mentions it. I by sea and land, nay, even to fight with stone ' walls, if that should be required, in order to come at their enemies ; for, if the victory were nol complete and universal, they could come at no money. Then he embarked the forces, and sailed to Proconesus, where he ordered them to take the lighter vessels into the middle of the fleet, and to have a particular care that the enemy might not discover that lie was coining against them. A great and sudden ruin which happened to fall at that time, together with dreadful thunder anc darkness, was of great service in covering his operations. For not only the enemy were ignorant of his design, but the very Athenians, whom he had ordered in great haste on board, did not presently perceive that lie was under sail. iSoon after the weather cleared up, and the Peloponnesian ships were seen rLiing at anchor in the road of Cyzi- cum. Lest, therefore, the enemy should be alarmed at the largeness of his fleet, and save themselves by getting on shore, he directed many of the officers to slacken sail and keep out of sight, while he showed himself with forty ships only, and challenged the Lacedaemonians to the combat The stratagem had its effect; for despis- ing the small number of galleys which they saw, they immediately weighed anchor and engaged; but the rest of the Athenian ships coining up during the engagement, the Lacedaemonians were struck with terror and fled. Upon that Alcibi- ades, with twenty of his best ships breaking through the midst of them, hastened to the shore, and having made a descent, pursued those that fled from the ships, and killed great numbers of them. He likewise defeated Mindarus and Phar- nabazus, who came to their succor. Mindarus made a brave resistance and was slain, but Phar- nabazus saved himself by flight. The Athenians remained masters of the field and of the spoils, and took ail the enemy's ships. Having also possessed themselves of Cyzicum, which was abandoned by Pharnabazus, and depriv- ed of the assistance of the Peloponnesians, who were almost all cut off, they not only secured the Hellespont, but entirely cleared the sea of the Lace- uaemonians. The latter also was intercepted, which, in the laconic style, was to give the Ephori an ac- count of their misfortune. "Our glory is faded. Mindarus is slain. Our soldiers are starving; and we know not what step to take." On the other hand, Alcibiades's men were so elated, and took so much upon them, because they had always been victorious, that they would not vouchsafe, even to mix with other troops that had been sometimes beaten. It happened, not long be lore, that Thrasyllus having miscarried in his attempt upon Ephesus, the Ephe.sians erected a trophy of brass in reproach of the Athenians.* The soldiers of Alcibiades, therefore, upbraided those of Thrasyllus with this affair, magnifying themselves and their general, and disdaining to join the others, either in the place of exercise or iu the camp. But soon after, when Pharnabazus with a strong body of horse and foot attacked J.he forces of Thrasyllus, who were ravaging the country about Abydos, Alcibiades marched to their assistance, routed the enemy, and together with Thrasyllus, pursued them until night. Then he admitted Thrasyllus into his company, and with mutual civilities and satisfaction they re- turned to the camp. Next day he erected a Trophies before had been of wood, but the Ephesians erected this of brass, to perpetuate the infamy of the Athe. mans; and it was this new and monifvirij; ciicurnstance with which Aluibiades's soldiers rep; Cached those of Thra- syllus. Diodor. lib. xiii. 156 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. trophy, and plundered the province which was under Pharnabazus, without the least opposition. The priest and priestess he made prisoners, among the rest, but soon dismissed them without ransom. From thence he intended to proceed and lay siege to Chalcedon, which had withdrawn its allegiance from the Athenians, and received a Lacedrerno- nian garrison and governor; but being informed that the Chalcedonians had collected their cattle and corn, and sent it all to the Bithynians, their friends, he led his army to the frontier of the Bithynians, and sent a herald before hirn to sum- mon them to surrender it. They, dreading his resentment, gave up the booty, and entered into an alliance with him. Afterward he returned to the siege of Chalce- don, and inclosed it with a wall, which reach- ed from sea to sea. Phariuibazus advanced to raise the siege, and Hippocrates, the governor, sallied out with his whole force to attack the Athenians. But Alcibiades drew up his army so as to engage them both at once, and he defeated them both; Pharnabazus betaking himself to flight, and Hippocrates being killed, together with the greatest part of his troops. This done, lie sailed into the Hellespont, to raise contributions in the towns upon the coast. In this voyage he took Selybria: but in the action unnecessarily exposed himself to great dan- ger. The persons who promised to surrender the town to hirn, agreed to give him a signal at mid- night with a lighted torch; but they were obliged to do it before the time, for fear of some one that was in the secret, who suddenly altered his mind. The torch therefore being held up before the army was ready, Alcibiades took about thirty men with him, and ran to the walls, having ordered the rest to follow as fast as possible. The gate was open- ed to him, and twenty of the conspirators lightly armed, joining his small company, he advanced with great spirit, but soon perceived the Sely- brians, with their weapons in their hands, coming forward to attack him. As to stand and fight Sromised no sort of success, and he, who to that our had never been defeated, did not choose to fly, he ordered a trumpet to command silence, and proclamation to be made, that the Selybrians should not, under the pain of the Republic's high displeasure, take up arms against the Athenians. Their inclination to the combat was then imme- diately damped, partly from a supposition that the whole Athenian army was within the walls, and partly from the hopes they conceived of coming to honorable terms. While they were talking to- gether of this order, the Athenian army came up, and Alcibiades rightly conjecturing that the in- clinations of the Selybrians were for peace, was afraid of giving the Thracians an opportunity to plunder the town. These last came down in great numbers to serve under him as volunteers, from a particular attachment to his person; but, on this occasion, he sent them all out of the town; and upon the submission of the Selybrians, he saved them from being pillaged, demanding only a sum of money, and leaving a garrison in the place. Mean lime, the other generals, who carried on the siege of Chalcedon, came to an agreement with Pharnab-mis on these conditions; namely, that a sum of money should be paid them bv Pharnabazus; that the Chalcedonians should re- turn to their allegiance to the republic of Athens; and that no injury should be done to the province of which Pharnabazus was governor, who under- took that the Athenian ambassadors should be conducted safe to the king. Upon the return of Alcibiades, Pharnabazus desired, that he too would swear to the performance of the articles, but Alcibiades insisted that Pharnabazus should swear first. When the treaty was reciprocally con- firmed with an oath, Alcibiades went against Byzantium, which had revolted, and drew a line of circumvallation about the city. While he was thus employed, Anaxilaus, Lycurgus, and some others, secretly promised to deliver up the place, on condition that he would keep it from being plundered. Hereupon, he caused it to be report- ed, that certain weighty and unexpected affairs called him^Kiek to Ionia, and in the day-time he set sail with his whole fleet: but returning at night, he himself disembarked with the land forces, and posting them under the walls, he com- manded them not to make the least noise. At the same time, the ships made for the harbor, and the crews pressing in with loud shouts and great tumult, astonished the Byzantines, who expected no such matter. Tims an opportunity was given to tho.se. within the walls, who favored the Athe- nians, to receive, them in great security, while every body's attention was engaged upon "the har- bor and the ships. The affair passed not, however, without blows. For the Peloponnesians, Breolians, and Megaren- sians, who were at Byzantium, having driven the ships' crews back to their vessels, aim perceiving that the Athenian land forces were got into the town, charged them too witli great vigor. The dispute was sharp and the shock great, bat victory declared for Alcibiades and Theramenes. The former of these generals commanded the right wing, anil the latter the left. About three hun- dred of the enemy, who survived, were taken prisoners. Not one of the Byzantines, after the battle, was either put to death or banished; for such were the terms on which the town was given up, that the citizens should be safe in their per- sons and their goods. Hence it was, that when Anaxilaus was tried at Lacedrernon for treason, he made a defense which reflected no disgrace upon his past behavior: for he told them, "That not being a Lacedaemonian, but a Byzantine; and seeing not Lacedeemoii but Byzantium in danger; its communication with those that might have relieved it stopped; and the Peloponnesians and Boeotians eating up the pro- visions that were left, while the Byzantines, with f heir wives and children, were starving; he had not betrayed the town to an enemy, but delivered it from calamity and war: herein imitating the worthiest men among the Lacedemonians, who had no other rule of justice and honor, but by all possible means to serve their country." The Lacedemonians were so much pleased with this speech, that they acquitted him, and all that were concerned with him. Alcibiades, by this time, desirous to see his native country, and still more desirous to be seen by his countrymen, after so many glorious vic- tories, set sail with the Athenian fleet, adorned with many shields and other spoils of the enemy; a great number of ships that he had taken making up the rear, and the flags of many more which he had destroyed being carried in triumph; for all of them together were not fewer than two hundred. But as to what is added, by Dnris the Samian, who boasts of his being descended from Alci- biades, that the oars kept time to the flute of Chrysogonus, who had been victorious in the Pythian games; that Callipides the tragedian, at- tired in his buskins, magnificent robes, and other theatrical ornaments, gave orders to those who labored at the oars; and that the admiral galley entered the harbor with a purple sail; as if the ALCIBIADES. 157 whole had been a company who had proceeded from a debauch to such a frolic; these are particu- lars net mentioned either by Theopompus, Epho- rus, or Xenopbon. Nor is it probable, that at his return from exile, and after such misfortunes as lie had suffered, he would insult the Athenians in that, manner. So far from it, that lie approached the shore with some fear and caution; nor did he venture to disembark, until, as he stood upon the deck, he saw his cousin Euryptolemus, with many others of his friends and relations, coming to re- ceive and invite him to land. When he was landed, the multitude that came out to meet him did not vouchsafe so much as to look upon the other generals, but crowding up to him, hailed him with shouts of joy, conducted him on the way, and such as could approach him crowned him with garlands; while those who could not come up so close, viewed him at a dis- tance, and the old men pointed him out to the young. Many tears were mixed with the public joy, and the memory of past misfortunes with the sense of their present success. For they con- cluded that they should not have miscarried in Sicily, or indeed have failed in any of their ex- pectations, if they had left the direction of affairs, and the command of the forces, to Alcibiades; since now, having exerted himself in behalf of Athens, when it had almost lost its dominion of the sea, was hardly able to defend its own suburbs, and was moreover harassed with intestine broils, he had raised it from that low and ruinous condi- tion, so as not only to restore its maritime power, but to render it victorious everywhere by land. The act for recalling him from banishment had been passed at the motion of Critias the son of Callreschrus,* as appears from his elegies, in which he puts Alcibiades in mind of his service: If you no more in hapless exile mourn, The praise is mine The people presently meeting in full assembly, Alcibiades came in among them, and having in a pathetic manner bewailed his misfortunes, he very modestly complained of their treatment, ascribing all to his hard fortune, and the influence of some envious demon. He then proceeded to discourse of the hopes' and designs of their enemies, against whom he used his utmost endeavors to animate them. And they were so much pleased with his harangue that they crowned him with crowns of gold, and gave him the absolute command of their lorces both by sea and land. They likewise made a decree, that his estate should be restored to him, and that the Eumolpidae and the heralds should take off the execrations which they had pro- nounced against him by order of the people. While the rest were employed in expiations for this purpose, Theodorus, the high priest said, M For his part, he had never denounced any curse against him, if he had done no injury to the com- monwealth." Amidst this glory and prosperity of Alcibiades, some people were still uneasy, looking upon the time of his arrival as ominous. For on that very day was kept the Plynteriarf or purifying of the * This Critias was uncle to Plato's mother, and the same lhat he introduces in his dialogues. Though now the friend f Alcibiades, yet as the lust of power destroys all ties, when one of the thirty tyrants, he hecame his bitter enemy, vul sending to Lysander, assured him, that Athens would *ever be quiet, or Sparta safe, until Alcibiades was destroy- ed. Critias was afterward slain by Thrasybulus, when he delivered Athens from that tyranny. t On that day, when the statue of Minerva was washed, the temp.es were encompassed with a cord, to denote that Ibey were shut up, as waa customary on all inauspicious goddess Minerva. It was the twenty-fifth of May, when the praxir-rgidce perform those ceremonies which are not to be revealed, disrobing the image and covering it up. Hence it is, that the Athe- nians, of all days, reckon this the most unlucky, and take the most care not to do business upon it. And it seemed that the goddess did not receive him graciously, but rather with aversion, since she hid her face from him. Notwithstanding all this, everything succeeded according to his wish; three hundred galleys were manned and ready to put to sea again: but a laudable zeal detained him until the celebration of the mysteries.* For after the Lacedaemonians had fortified Decelea, which commanded the roads to Eleusis, the feast was not kept with its usual pomp, because they were obliged to conduct the procession by sea; the sa- crifices, the sacred dances, and other ceremonies which had been performed on the way, called holy, while the image of Bacchus was carried in procession, being on that account necessarily omit- ted. Alcibiades, therefore, judged it would be an act conducive to the honor of the gods, and to his reputation with men, to restore those rites to their due solemnity, by conducting the procession with his army, and guarding it against the enemy. By that means, either king Agis would be humbled, if he suffered it to pass unmolested, or if he attacked the convoy, Alcibiades would have a fight to maintain in the cause of piety and religion, for the most venerable of its mysteries, in the sight of his country; and all his fellow-citizens would be witnesses of his valor. When he had determined upon this, and com- municated his design to the Eumolpida and the heralds, he placed sentinels upon the eminences, and set out his advanced guard as soon as it was light. Next he took the priests, the persons ini- tiated, and those who had the charge of initiating others, and covering them with his forces, led them on in great order and profound silence; ex- hibiting in that march a spectacle so august and venerable, that those who did not envy him de- clared he had performed not only the office of a general, but of a high priest: not a man of the enemy dared to attack him, and he conducted the procession back in great safety; which both exalt- ed him in his own thoughts, and gave the soldiery such an opinion of him, that they considered themselves as invincible while under his com- .tnand. And he gained such an influence over the mean and indigent part of the people, that they were passionately desirous to see him invested with absolute power; insomuch that some of them applied to him in person, and exhorted him, in order to quash the malignity of envy at once, to abolish the privileges of the people, and the laws, and to quell those busy spirits who would other- wise be the ruin of the state; for then he might direct affairs and proceed <o action, without fear of groundless impeachments. What opinion he himself had of this proposal we know not; but this is certain, that the princi- pal citizens were so apprehensive of his aiming at arbitrary power, that they got him to embark as soon as possible; and the more to expedite the matter, they ordered among other things, that he should have the choice of his colleagues. Putting to sea, therefore, with a fleet of a hundred ships, he sailed to the isle of Andros, where he fought days. They carried dried figs in procession, because that was the first fruit which was eaten after acorns. * The festival of Ceres and Proserpine continued nine days. On the sixth day they carried in procession to Elea- sis the statue of Bacchus, whom they supposed to be the son of Jupiter and Ceres. 158 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and defeated the Andrians, and such of the Lace- dsemonians as assisted them. But yet he did not attack the city, which gave his enemies the first occasion for the charge which they afterward brought against him. Indeed, if ever man was ruined by a high distinction of character, it was Alcibiades.* For his continual successes had procured such an opinion of his courage and ca- pacitv, that when afterward he happened to fail in what he undertook, it was suspected to be from want of inclination, and no one would believe it was from want of ability; they thought nothing too hard for him, when he pleased to exert him- self. They hoped also to hear that Chios was taken, and all Ionia reduced, and grew impatient when everything was not dispatched as suddenly as they desired. They never considered the small- ness of his supplies, and that, having to carry on the war against people who were furnished out of the treasury of a great king, he was often laid under the necessity of leaving his carnp, to go iti search of money and provisions for his men. This it was that gave rise to the last accusation against him. Lysunder, the Lacedaemonian ad- miral, out of the money he received from Cyrus, raised the wages of each mariner from three oboli a-day to four, whereas it was with difficulty that Alcibiades paid his men three. The latter, there- fore, went into Caria to raise money, leaving the fleet in charge with Antiochus,f who was an experienced seaman, but rash and inconsiderate. Though he had express orders from Alcibiades to let no provocation from the enemy bring him to hazard an engagement, yet, in his contempt of those orders, having taken seme troops on hoard his own galley and one more, he stood for Ephesus, where the enemy lay, and as he sailed by the heads of their ships, insulted them in the most insufferable manner, both by words and actions. Lysander sent out a few ships to pursue him; but as the whole Athenian fleet came up to assist Antiochus, he drew out the rest of his and gave battle, and gained a complete victory. He slew Antiochus himself, took many ships and men, and erected a trophy. Upon" this disagreeable news, Alcibiades returned to Samos, from whence he moved with the whole fleet, to offer Lysander battle. But Lysander, content with the advantage he had gained, did not think proper to accept it. Among the enemies which Alcibiades had in the army, Thrasybulus, the son of Thrason, being the most determined, quitted the camp, and went to Athens to impeach him. To incense the peo- ple against him, he declared in full assembly, that Alcibiades had been the ruin of their affairs, and the means of losing their ships, by his insolent and imprudent behavior in command, and by leaving the direction of everything to persons who had got into credit with him through the great, merit of drinking deep and cracking sea- men's jokes; while he was securely traversing the provinces to raise money, indulging his love of liquor, or abandoning hitnse'f to his pleasures with the courtesans of Ionia a .id Abydos: and this at a time when the enemy was stationed at a small distance from his fleet. It was also object- ed to him, that he had built a castle in Thrace near the city of Bisanthe, to be made use of as a * It was not altogether the universality of his success that rendered Alcibiades suspected, when he came short of pub- lic expectation. The duplicity of his character is obvious from the whole account of his fife. He paid not the least egard to veracity in political matters; and it is not to be wondered if sucb principles made him continually obnoxious to the suspicions of the people. t This was he who caught the quail for him. retreat for himself, as if lie either could not, or would not, live any longer in his own country. The Athenians giving ear to these accusations, to show their resentment and dislike to him, ap- pointed new commanders of their forces.* Alcibiades was no sooner informed of it, than, consulting his own safety, he entirely quitted the Athenian army. And having collected a band of strangers, he made war, on his own account, against those Thracians who acknowledged no king. The booty he made, raised him great sums; and at the same time he defended the Gre- cian frontier against the barbarians. Tydeus, Menander, and Adimantus, the new- made generals, being now at ^Egos Potamos,f with nil the ships which the Athenians had left, used to stand out early every morning and offer battle to Lysander, whose station was at Lampsacus, and then to return and pass the day in a disorderly and careless manner, as if they despised their ad- versary. This seemed to Alcibiades, who was in the neighborhood, a matter not to be passed over without notice. He therefore went and told the generals,* "He thought their station by no means safe in a place where there was neither town nor harbor; that it was very inconvenient to have their provisions and stores from so distant a place as Sestos; and extremely dangerous to let their sea- men go ashore, and wander about at their plea- sure; while a fleet was observing them, which wa3 under the orders of one man, and the strictest dis- cipline imaginable. He, therefore, advised them to remove their station to Sestos." The generals, however, gave no attention to what he said; and Tydeus was even so insolent as to bid him begone, for that they, not he, were now to give orders. Alcibiades, suspecting that there was some treachery in the case, retired, tell- ing his acquaintance, who conducted hirn out of the camp, that if he had not been insulted in such an insupportable manner by the generals, he would in a few days have 6bliged the Lacedae- monians, however unwilling, either to come to an action at sea, or else to quit their ships. This to some appeared a vain boast; but to others it seem- ed not at all improbable, since he might have brought down a number of Thracian archers and cavalry, to attack and harass the Lacedcernoniar* camp. The event soon showed that he judged right of the errors which the Athenians had committed for Lysander falling upon them when they least expected it, eight galleys only escaped, || along with Conon; the rest, not much short of two hun- dred, were taken and carried away, together with three thousand prisoners, who were afterward put to death. And within a short time after, Lysan- der took Athens itself, burned the shipping, and demolished the long walls. Alcibiades, alarmed at this success of the Lace- * They appointed ten generals. Xritoph. lib. i. t Plutarch passes over ahnost three years; namely, the twenty-fifth of the Peloponnesian war; the twenty-sixth, in which" the Athenians obtained the victory at Arginusai, and put six of the ten generals to death, upon a slight accusa- tion of their colleague Theramenes; and almost the whole twenty-seventh, toward the end of which the Athenians sail- ed to 'JEgos Potamos, where they received the blow that is spoken of in this place. J The officers at ihe head of the Grecian armies and navy, were sometimes called generals, sometimes admirals, be- cause they commonly commanded both by sea and land. When a fleet remained sometime at one particular sta tion, there was generally a body of land forces, and ,,art of the mariners too. encamped upon the shore. II There was a ninth ship called Paralus, which escaped, and carried the news of their defeat to Athens. Conon himself retired to Cyprus. A L C I B I A D F. S. 150 doemonians, who were now masters both at sea and land, retired into Bithynia. Thither he or- dered much treasure to be sent, and took large sums with him, but still left more behind in the castle where he had resided. In Bithynia he once more lost great part of his substance, being strip- ped by the Thracians there; which determined him to go to Artaxerxes, and entreat his protection. He imagined that the king upon trial, would find him no less serviceable than Tbemistocles had been, and he had a better pretense to his patron- age; for he was not going to solicit the king's aid against his countrymen, as Themistocles had done, but for his country against its worst enemies. He concluded that Pharnabazus was most likely to procure him a safe conduct, and therefore went to him in Phrygia, where he stayed some time, mak- ing his court, and receiving marks of respect. It was a grief to the Athenians to be deprived of their power and dominion, but when Lysander robbed them also of their liberty, and put their city tinder the authority of thirty chiefs, they were still more miserably afflicted. Now their affairs were ruined, they perceived with regret the measures which would have saved them, and which they had neglected to make use of; now they acknowl- edged their blindness and errors, and looked upon their second quarrel with Alcibiades as the great- est of those errors. They had cast him off with- out any offense of his : their anger had been grounded upon the ill conduct of his lieutenant in losing a few ships, and their own conduct had been still worse, in depriving the commonwealth of the most excellent and valiant of all its gener- als. Yet amidst their present misery there was one slight glimpse of hope, that while Alcibiades survived, Athens could not be utterly undone. For he who before was not content to lead an in- active, though peaceable life, in exile, would not now, if his own affairs were upon any tolerable footing, sit still and see the insolence of the Lace- dsernonians, and the madness of the thirty tyrants, without endeavoring at some remedy. Nor was it at all unnatural for the multitude to dream of such relief, since those thirty chiefs themselves were so solicitous to inquire after Alcibiades, and gave so much attention to what he was doing and contriving. At last, Critias represented to Lysander, that the Lacedemonians could never securely enjoy the empire of Greece until the Athenian democracy were absolutely destroyed. And though the Athe- nians seemed at present to bear an oligarchy with some patie.nce, yet Alcibiades, if he lived, would not suffer them long to submit to such a kind of government. Lysanxler, however, could not be prevailed upon by these arguments, until he re- ceived private orders from the magistrates of Sparta,* to get Alcibiades dispatched; whether it was that they dreaded his great capacity, and en- terprising spirit, or whether it was done in com- * The Scytala was sent to him. plaisance to king Agis. Lysander then sent to Pharnabazus to desire him to put this order in ex- ecution; and he appointed his brother Magacus, and his uncle Susamithres, to manage the af- fair. Alcibiades at that time resided in a small village in Phrygia, having his mistress Timandra with him. One night lie dreamed that he was att.red in his mistress's habit,* and that as she held him in her arms, she dressed his head, and painted his face like a woman's. Others say, he dreamed that Magacus cut off his head and burned his body; and we are told, that it was but a little before his death that he had this vision. Be that as it may, those that were sent to assassinate him, not daring to enter his house, surrounded it, and set it on fire. As soon as he perceived it, he got together large quantities of clothes and hangings, and threw them upon the fire to choke it; then having wrap- ped his robe about his left hand, and taking his sword in his right, he sallied through the fire, and got safe out before the stuff which he had thrown upon it could catch the flame. At sight of him the barbarians dispersed, not one of them daring to wait for him, or to encounter him hand to hand; but standing at a distance, they pien^jd him with their darts and arrows. Thus fell A cibiades. The barbarians retiring after he was slain, Tirnandra wrapped the body in her own robes, f and buried it as decently and honorably as her circumstances would allow. Timandra is said to have been mother to the famous Lais, commonly called the Corinthian, though Lais was brought a cuptive from HyccaroB, a little town in Sicily. Some writers, though they agree as to the man- ner of Alcibiades's death, yet differ about the cause. They tell us, that catastrophe is not to be imputed to Pharnabazus, or Lysander, or the Lace- daemonians; but that Alcihiadts having corrupted a young woman of a noble family, in that coun- try, and keeping her in his house, her brothers incensed at the injury, set fire in the night to the house in which he lived, and upon his breaking through the flames, killed him in the manner we have related4 * Alcibiades had dreamed that Timandra attired him in her own habit. t She huried him in a town called Melissa; and we learn from Athenwus (I'M Dcipnosopli), that the monument re- mained to his time, tor he himself snw it. The empcroi Adrian, in memory of so great a man, caused his statue of Persian marble 10 be set up thereon, and ordered a bull to be sacrificed to him annually. t Ephorus tbe historian, as lie is cited by Diodorus Sicu- lus (lib. xiv.) gives an account oi' bis death, quite different from those recited by Plutarch. He says, that Alcibiades, having discovered the design of Cyrus the younger to take up arms, informed Pharnabazus of "it, and desired that he might carry the news to the king; but Pbarnabaztis envying him that honor, sent a confidant of his own, and took all the merit to himself. Alcibiades, suspecting the matter, went to Paphlagonia, and sought to procure from the gover- nor letters of credence to the icing; which Pharnaba/us un- derstanding, hired people to murder him. He was slain in the fortieth year of his age. 160 PLUTARCH'S LIVES CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. THE family of the Marcii afforded Rome many Illustrious patricians. Of this house was Ancus Marcius, who was grandson to Nurna by his daughter; us were also Pubiius and Quintus Mar- cius, who supplied Rome with plenty of the best water. Censorinus, too, who was twice appointed Censor by the people of Rome, and who procured a law that no man should ever bear that office twice afterward, had the same pedigree. Caius Marcius, of whom I now write, was brought up by his mother in her widowhood; and from him it appeared, that the loss of a father, though attended with other disadvantages, is no hindrance to a man's improving in virtue and at- taining to a distinguished excellence; though bad men sometimes allege it as an excuse for tiieir cor- rupt lives. On the other hand, the same Marcius became witness to the truth of that maxim, that if a generous and noble nature be not thoroughly formed by discipline, it will shoot forth many bad qualities along with the good, as the richest soil, if not cultivated, produces the rankest weeds. His undaunted courage and firmness of mind excited him to many great actions, and carried him through them with honor. But, at the same time, the violence of his passions, his spirit of contention and excessive obstinacy, rendered him untractable and disagreeable in conversation. So that those very persons who saw with admiration his soul unshaken with pleasures, toils, and riches, and allowed him to be possessed of the virtues of tem- perance, justice, and fortitude, yet in the councils and affairs of state, could not endure his imperious temper and that savage manner, which was too haughty for a republic. Indeed, there is no other advantage to be had from a liberal education, equal to that of polishing and softening our nature by reason and discipline; for that produces an evenness of behavior, and banishes from our manners all extremes. There is this, however, to be said, that in those times military abilities were deemed by the Romans the highest excellence, in- somuch that the term which they use for virtue in general, was applied by them to valor in par- ticular. Marcius, for his part, had a more than ordinary inclination for war, and therefore from a child be- gan to handle his weapons. As he thought that arti- ficial arms availed but little, unless those with which nature has supplied us be well improved, and kept ready for use, he so prepared himself by ex- ercise for every kind of combat, that while his limbs were active and nimble enough for pursuing, such was his force and weight in wrestling and grappling with the enemy, that none could easily get clear of him. Those, therefore, that had any contest with him for the prize of courage and valor, though they failed of success, flattered them- selves with imputing it to his invincible strength, which nothing could resist or fatigue. He made his first campaign when he was very young,* when Tarquin who had reigned in Rome, was driven from the throne, and after many battles, * In the first year of the seventy-first Olympiad, the two hundred and fifty-eighth of Rome, four hundred and ninety- third before the Christian era. fought with bad success, was now venturing all upon the last throw. Most of the people at La- tium, and many other states of Italy, were now assisting and marching toward Rome, to re-estab- lish him. not through any regard they had for Tarquin, but for fear and envy of the Romans, whose growing greatness they were, desirous to check. A battle ensued, with various turns of fortune. Marcius distinguished himself that day in sight of the dictator; for seeing a Roman pushed down at a small distance from him, he hastened to his help, and standing before him, he engaged his adversary and slew him. When the dispute was decided in favor of the Romans, the general presented Marcius, among the first, with an oaken crown.* This is the reward which their custom assigns to the man who saves the life of a citizen; either because they honored the oak for the sake of the Arcadians, whom the oracle called acorn eaters; or because an acorn branch is most easy to be had, be the scene of action where it will; or because they think it most suitable to take a crown for him who is the means of saving a citizen, from the tree which is sacred to Jupiter, the protector of cities. Beside, the oak bears more and fairer fruit than any tree that grows wild, and is the strongest of those that are cultivated in planta- tions. It afforded the first ages both food and drink, by its ucorns and honey; and supplied men with birds and other creatures for dainties, as ii produced the mistletoe, of which birdlime is made.f Castor and Pollux are said to have appeared in that battle, and with their horses dropping sweat* to have been seen soon after in the forum, an- nouncing the victory near the fountain, where tire temple now stands. Hence also it is said, that the fifteenth of July,t being the day on which that victory was gained, is consecrated to those sons of Jupiter. It generally happens, that when men of small ambition are very early distinguished by the voice of fame, their thirst of honor is soon quenched and their desires satiated: whereas deep and solid minds are improved and brightened by marks of distinc- tion, which serve, as a brisk gale, to drive them forward in the pursuit of glory. They do not so much think that they have received a reward, as that they have given a pledge, which would make them blush to fall short of the expectations of tlie public, and therefore they endeavor by their ac- tions to exceed them. Marcius had a soul of this frame. He was always endeavoring to excel him- self, and meditating some exploit which might set *The civic crown was the foundation of many privilege*. He who had once obtained it, had a right to wear it always. When he appeared at the public spectacles, the senators rose up to do him honor. He was placed near their bench; and his father, and grandfather, by the father's side, were entitled to the same privileges. Here was an encourage* menl to merit, which cost the public nothing, and yet wa productive of many great effects. t It does not anywhere appear that the ancients mad use of the oak in ship-building: how much nobler an enco- mium might an English historian afford that tree than Plu- tarch has been able to give it! t By the great disorder if the Roman calendar, the fif- teenth of July then fell upon the twenty-fourth of our Oc- tober. CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 161 him in a new light, adding achievement to achieve- ment, and spoils to spoils; therefore, the latter generals, under whom he served, were always striving to outdo the former in the honors they paid him, and in the tokens of their esteem. The Romans at that time were engaged in several wars, and fought many battles, and there was not one that Mareius returned from without some honor- ary crown, some ennobling distinction. The end which others proposed in their acts of valor was glory. But he pursued glory because the acquisi- tion of it delighted his mother. For when she was witness to the applause he received, when she saw him crowned, when she embraced him with tears of joy, then it was that he reckoned himself at the [light of honor and felicity. Eparninondas (they tell us) had the same sentiments, and declared it the chief happiness of his life, that his father and mother lived to see the generalship he exerted and the victory he won at Leuctra. He had the satis- faction, indeed, to see both his parents rejoice in his success, and partake of his good fortune; but only the mother of Mareius, Volumnia, was living, and therefore holding himself obliged to pay her all that duty which would have belonged to his father, over and above what was due to herself, he thought he could never sufficiently express his tenderness and respect. He even married in com- pliance with her desire and request, and after his wife had borne him children, still lived in the same house with his mother. At the time when the reputation and interest which his virtue had procured him in Rome, were very great, the senate taking the part of the richer sort of citizens, were at variance with the com- mon people, who were used by their creditors with intolerable cruelty. Those that had something considerable were stripped of their goods, which were either detained for security, or sold; and those that had nothing were dragged into prison, and there bound with fetters, though their bodies were full of wounds, and worn out with fighting for their country. The last expedition they were engaged in was against the Sabines, on which occasion their rich creditors promised to treat them with more lenity, and, in pursuance of a decree of the senate, M. Valerius the Consul, was guar- antee of that promise. But when they had cheer- fully undergone the fatigues of that wur, and were returned victorious, and yet found that the usurers made them no abatement, and that the senate pretended to remember nothing of that agreement, but without any sort of concern saw them dragged to prison, and their goods seized upon as formerly, then they filled the city with tumult and sedition. The enemy, apprised of these intestine broils, invaded the Roman territories, and laid them waste with fire and sword. And when the con- suls called upon such as were able to bear arms to give in their names, not a man took any notice of it. Something was then to be done; but the magistrates differed in their opinions. Some thought the poor should have a little indulgence, and that the extreme rigor of the law ought to t>e softened. Others declared 'absolutely against that proposal, and particularly Mareius. Not that he thought the money a matter of great conse- quence, but he considered this specimen of the people's insolence as an attempt to subvert the laws, and the forerunner of further disorders, which it became a wise government timely to re- ar rain and suppress. The senate assembled several times within the space of a few days, and debated this point; but as they came to no conclusion, on a sudden the commonalty rose, one and all, and encouraging each other, they left the city, and withdrew to the hill now called Sacred, near the river Anio, but without committing any violence or other act of sedition. Only as they went along, they loudly complained, "That it was now a great while since the rich had driven them from their habitations; that Italy would anywhere supply them with air and water, and a place of burial; and that Rome, if they stayed in it, would afford them no other privilege, unless it were such, to bleed and die in fighting for their wealthy oppressors." The senate was then alarmed, and from the oldest men of their body selected the most mode- rate and popular to treat with the people. At the head of them was Menenius Agrippa, who after much entreaty addressed to them, and many argu- ments in defense of the senate, concluded his dis- course with this celebrated fable. "The members of the human body once mutinied against the belly, and accused it of lying idle and useless, while they were all laboring and toiling to satisfy its appetites; but the belly only laughed at their simplicity, who knew not that, though it received all the nourishment into itself, it prepared and distributed it again to all parts of the body. Just so, my fellow-citizens, said he, stands the case between the senate and you. For their necessary counsels and acts of government, are productive of advantage to you all, and distribute their salu- tary influence among the whole people." After this they were reconciled to the senate, having demanded and obtained the privilege of appointing five men,* to defend their rights on all occasions. These are called tribunes of the people. The first that were elected, were Junius Brutus,f and Sicinius Vellutus, the leaders of the secession. When the breach was thus made up, the plebeians soon came to be enrolled as soldiers, and readily obeyed the orders of the consuls rela- tive to the war. As for Mareius, though he was far from being pleased at the advantages which the people had gained, as it was a lessening of the authority of the patricians, and though he found a considerable part of the nobility of his opinion, yet, he exhorted them not to be backward where- ever the interest of their country was concerned, but to show themselves superior to the common- alty rather in virtue than in power. Corioli was the capital of the country of the Vol- scians, with whom the Romans were at war. And as it was besieged by the consul Cominius, the rest of the Volscians were much alarmed; and assem- bled to succor it, intending to give the Romans battle under the walls, and to attack them on both sides. But after Corninius had divided his forces, and with part went to meet the Volscians without, who were inarching against him, leaving Titus Lartius, an illustrious Roman, with the other part, to carry on the siege, the inhabitants of Corioli de- spised the body that were left, and sallied out to fight them. The Romans at first were obliged to give ground, and were driven to their intrench* * The tribunes were at first five in number; but a fevr years after, five more were added. Before the people left the Moits Sacer, they passed a law, by which the prisons of the tribunes were made sacred. Their sole function was to in- terpose in all grievances offered the plebeians by their supe- riors. This interposing was called iutercessio, and was performed by standing up and pronouncing the single word Veto I forbid it. They had their seats placed at the door of the senate, and were never admitted into it, but when the consuls called them to ask their opinion upon some a/fak tbat concerned the interests of the people. t The name of this tribune was Lucius Juniu*; and be- cause Lucius Junius Brutus was famed for delivering hit country from the tyrannic yoke of the kings, he also a- sunied the surname of Brutu*, which exposed him to ft gr.t deal of ridicule. 162 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ments But Marcius, with a small party, flew to their assistance, killed the foremost of the enemy, and stopping the rest in their career, with a loud voice called the Romans back. For he was (what Cato wanted a soldier to be) not only dreadful for the thunder of his arm, but of voice too, and had an aspect which struck his adversaries with terror and dismay. Many Romans then crowding about him, and being ready to second him, the enemy retired in contusion. Nor was he satisfied with making them retire; he pressed hard upon their rear, and pursued them quite up to the gates. There he perceived tliat his men discontinued the pursuit, by reason of the shower of arrows which fell from the walls, and that none of them had any thoughts of rushing along with the fugitives into the city, which was filled with warlike people, who were all under arms: nevertheless, he exhort- ed and encouraged them to press forward, crying out, " That fortune had opened the gates rather to the victors than to the vanquished." But, as few were willing to follow him, he broke through the enemy, and pushed into the town with the crowd, no one at first daring to oppose him, or even to look him in the face. But when he cast his eyes around, and saw so small a number within the walls, whose service he could make use of in that dangerous enterprise, and that friends and foes were mixed together, he summoned all his force, and performed the most incredible exploits, whether you consider his heroic strength, his amazing agility, or his bold and daring spirit; for he overpowered all that were in his way, forcing some to seek refuge in the farthest corners of the town, and others to give out and throw down their arms; which afforded Lartius an opportunity to bring in the rest of the Romans unmolested. The city thus taken, most of the soldiers fell to plundering, which Marcius highly resented; cry- ing out, " That it was a shame for them to run about after plunder, or, under pretense of collect- ing the spoils, to get out of the way of danger, while, the consul and the Romans under his com- mand were, perhaps, engaged with the enemy." As there were not many that listened to what he said, he put himself at the head of such as offered to follow him, and took the route which he knew would lead him to the consul's army; sometimes pressing his small party to hasten their march, and conjuring them not to suffer their ardor to cool, and sometimes begging of the gods that the battle might not be over before he arrived, but that he might have his share in the glorious toils and dangers of his countrymen. It was customary with the Romans of that age, when they were drawn up in order of battle, and ready to take up their shields and gird their gar- ments about them, to make a nuncupative will, naming each his heir, in the presence of three or four witnesses. While the soldiers were thus em- ployed, and the enemy in sight, Marcius came up. Some were startled at his first appearance, covered as he was with blood and sweat. But when he ran cheerfully up to the consul, took him by the hand, and told him that Corioli was taken, the consul clasped him to his heart: and those who heard the news of that success, and those who did but guess at it, were greatly animated, and with shouts demanded to be led on to the combat. Marcius inquired of Cominius in what manner the enemy's army was drawn up, and where their best troops were posted. Being answered, that the Antiates who were placed in the center, were supposed to be the bravest and most warlike, " I beg it of you, then," said Marcius, "as a favor, that you will place me directly opposite to them." And the consul, admiring his spirit, readily grant- ed his request. When the battle was begun with the throwing of spears, Marcius advanced before the rest, and charged the center of the Volscians with so much fury, that it was soon broken. Nevertheless, the wings attempted to surround him; and the consul, alarmed for him, sent to his assistance a select band which he had near his own person. A sharp conflict then ensued about Marcius, and a great carnage was quickly made ; but the Romans pressed the enemy with so much vigor that they put them to flight. And when they were going upon the pursuit, they begged of Marcius, now almost weighed down with wounds and fatigue, to retire to the carnp. But he answered, "That it was not for conquerors to be tired," and so joined them in prosecuting the victory. The whole army of the Volscians was defeated, great numbers killed, and many made prisoners. Next day, Marcius waiting upon the consul, and the army being assembled, Corninius mounted the rostrum; and having in the first place returned thanks to the gods for such extraordinary success, addressed himself to Marcius. He began with a detail of his gallant actions, of which he had himself been partly an eye-witness, and which had partly been related to him by Lartius. Then out of the great quantity of treasure, the many horses and prisoners they had taken, he ordered him to take a tenth, before any distribution was made to the rest, beside making him a present of a fine horse with noble trappings, as a reward for his valor. The army received this speech with great -ap- plause; and Marcius, stepping forward, said, "That he accepted of the horse, and was happy in the consul's approbation; but as for the rest, he con- sidered it rather as a pecuniary reward than as a mark of honor, and therefore desired to be excus- ed, being satisfied with his single share of the booty. One favor only in particular," continued he, "I desire, and beg I may be indulged in. I have a friend among the Volscians, bound with me in the sacred rites of hospitality, and a man of virtue and honor. He is now among the prisoners, and from easy and opulent circumstances, reduced to servitude. Of the many misfortunes under which he labors, I should be glad to rescue him from one, which is that of being sold as a slave." These words of Marcius were followed with still louder acclamations; his conquering the temp- tations of money being more admired than the valor he had exerted in battle. For even those who before regarded his superior honors with envy and jealousy, now thought him worthy of great things because he had greatly declined them, and were more struck with that virtue which led him to despise such extraordinary advantages, than with the merit which claimed them. Indeed, the risjrht use of riches is more commendable than that of arms; and not to desire them at all, more glorious than to use them well. When the acclamations were over and the mul- titude silent again, Cominius subjoined, "You can- not, indeed, my fellow-soldiers, force these gifts of yours upon a person so fianly resolved to refuse them; let us then give him what it is not in his power to decline, let us pass a vote that he be called CORIOLANUS, if his gallant behavior at Corioli has not already bestowed that name upon him." Hence came his third name of Coriolauus. By which it appears that Caius was the proper I name; that the second name, Marcius, was that i of the family; and that the third Roman appella- [ live was a peculiar note of distinction, given CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 163 afterward on account of some particular act of fortune, or signature, or virtue of him that bore it. Thus among the Greeks additional names were given to some on account of their achievements, as Soter, the preserver, and Callinicus, the victori- ous; to others, for something remarkable in their persons, as Physcon, the gore-bellied, and Gripus, the eagle-nosed; or for their good qualities, as Eu ergetes, the benefactor, and Philadelphus, the kind brother; or their good fortune, as Eudtsmon, the prosperous, a name given to the second prince of the family of the Batti. Several princes also have had satirical names bestowed upon them. Antigonus (for instance) was called Doson, the man that will give to-morrow, and Ptolemy was styled Lamyras, the buffoon. But appellations of this last sort were used with greater latitude among the Romans. One of the Metelli was dis- tinguished by the name of Diadematus, because he went a long time with a bandage, which cover- ed an ulcer he had in his forehead: and another they called Celer, because with surprising celerity he entertained them with a funeral show of gladiators, a few days after his father's death. In our times, too, some of the Romans receive their names from the circumstances of their birth; as that of Proculus, if born when their fathers are in a distant country; and that of Posthumus, if born after their father's death; und when twins come into the world, and one of them dies at the birth, the survivor is called Vopiscus. Names are also appropriated on account of bodily imper- fections; for among them we find not only Sylla, the red, and Niger, the black; but even Cacus, the blind, and Claudius, the lame; such persons, by this custom, being wisely taught, not to consider blindness, or any other bodily misfortune, as a reproach or disgrace, but to answer to appella- tions of that kind as their proper names. But this point might have been insisted upon with greater propriety in another place. When the war was over, the demagogues stirred up another sedition. And as there was no new cause of disquiet or injury done the people, they made use of the mischiefs which wore the neces- sary consequence of the former troubles and dis- sensions, as a handle against the patricians. For the greatest part of the ground being left uncul- tivated and unsown, and the war not permitting them to bring in bread-corn from other countries, there was an extreme scarcity in Rome.* The factious orators then seeing that corn was not brought to market, and that if the market could be supplied, the commonalty had but little money to buy with, slanderously asserted, that the rich had caused the famine out of a spirit of re- venge. At this juncture there arrived ambassadors from the people of Velitrse, who offered to surrender their city to the Romans, and desired to have a number of new inhabitants to replenish it; a pes- tilential distemper having committed such rav- ages there, that scarcely the tenth part of the inhabitants remained. The sensible part of the Romans thought this pressing necessity of Veli- trae a seasonable and advantageous thing for Rome, as it would lessen the scarcity of provi- sions. They hoped, moreover, that the sedition would subside, if the city were purged of the troublesome part of the people, who most readily *The people withdrew to the sacred mount soon after the autumnal equinox, and the reconciliation with the patri- cians did not take place until the winter solstice, so that the isd-time was lost. And the Roman factors, who were tent to coy corn in other countries, were very unsuccessful. took fire at the harangues of their orators, and who were as dangerous to the state as so many superfluous and morbid humors are to the body. Such as these, therefore, the consuls singled out for the colony, and pitched upon others to serv in the war against the Volscians, contriving it so that employment abroad might still the intestine tumults, and believing, that when rich and poor, plebeians and patricians, came to bear arms together again, to be in the same camp, and to meet the same dangers, they would be disposed to treat each other with more gentleness and can- dor. But the restless tribunes, Sicinius and Brutus, opposed both these designs, crying out, that the consuls disguised a most inhuman act under the plausible term of a colony; for inhuman it cer- tainly was, to throw the poor citizens into a devouring gulf, by sending them to a place where the air was infected, and where noisome carcasses lay above ground, where also they would be at the disposal of a strange and cruel deity. And as if it were not sufficient to destroy some by fam- ine, and expose others to the plague, they involved them also into a needless war, that no kind of calamity might be wanting to complete the ruin of the city, because it refused to continue in slavery to the rich. The people, irritated by these speeches, neither obeyed the summons to be enlisted for the war, nor could be brought to approve the order to go and people Velitrae. While the senate were in doubt what step they should take, Marcius, now not a little elated by the honors he had received, by the sense of his own great abilities, and by the deference that was paid him by the principal per- sons in the state, stood foremost in opposition to the tribunes. The colony, therefore, was sent out, heavy fines being set upon such as refused to go. But as they declared absolutely against serv- ing in the war, Marcius mustered up his own clients, and as many volunteers as he could pro- cure, and with these made an inroad into the territories of the Antiates. There he found plenty of corn, and a great number of cattle and slaves, no part of which he reserved to himself, but led his troops back to Rome, loaded with the rich booty. The rest of the citizens then repenting of their obstinacy, and envying those who had got such a quantity of provisions, looked upon Mar- cius with an evil eye, not being able to endure the increase of his power and honor, which they considered as rising on the ruins of the people. Soon after,* Marcius stood for the consulship; on which occasion the commonalty began to re- lent, being sensible what a shame it would be to reject and affront a man of his family and virtue, and that too after he had done so many signal services to the public. It was the custom for those who were candidates for such a high office to solicit and caress the people in the forum, and, at those times, to be clad in a loose gown without the tunic; whether that humble dress was thought more suitable for suppliants, or whether it was for the convenience of showing their wounds, as so many tokens of valor. For it was not from any suspicion the citizens then had of bribery, that they required the candidates to appear be- fore them uugirt, and without any close garment, when they came to beg their votes; since it was much later than this, and indeed many ages after, that buying and selling stole in, and money carao It was the next year, being the third of the seventy second Olympiad, four hundred and eighty-eight yean b fore the Christian era. 164 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. to bo a means of gaining an election. Then, corruption reaching also the tribunals and the camps, arms were subdued by money, and the commonwealth was changed into a monarchy. It was a shrewd saying, whoever said it, "That the man who first ruined the Roman people, was he who first gave them treats and gratuities." But this mischief crept secretly and gradually in, and did not show its face in Rome for a considera- ble time. For we know not who it was that first bribed its citizens or its judges; but it is said, that in Athens, the first man who corrupted a tribu- nal, was Anytas, the son of Anthymion, when he was tried for treason in delivering up the fort of Pylos-,* at the latter end ot the Peloponnesian war; a time when the golden age reigned in the Roman courts in all its simplicity. When, therefore, Marcius showed the wounds and scars he had received in the many glorious battles he had fought, for seventeen years succes- sively, the people were struck with reverence for his virtue, and agreed to choose him consul. But when the day of election came, and he was con- ducted with great pornp into the Campus Martius by the senate in a body, all the patricians acting with more zeal and vigor than ever had been known on the like occasion; the commons then altered their minds, and their kindness was turned into envy and indignation. The malignity of these passions was farther assisted by the fear they entertained, that if a man so strongly at- tached to the interests of the senate, and so much respected by the nobility, should attain the con- sulship, he might utterly deprive the people of their liberty. Influenced by these considerations, they rejected Marcius, and appointed others to that office. The senate took this extremely ill, considering it as an affront rather intended against them than against Marcius. As for Marcius, he resented that treatment highly, indulging his iras- cible passions jpona supposition, that they have something great and exalted in them; and want- ing a due mixture of gravity and mildness, which are the chief political virtues, and the fruits of retson and education. He did not consider, that the man who applies himself to public business, and undertakes to converse with men, should, above all things, avoid that overbearing austerity, which (as Plato says) is always the companion of solitude, and cultivate in his heart the patience which some people so much deride. Marcius, then, being plain and artless, but rigid and inflexi- ble withal, was persuaded, that to vanquish opposi- tion was the highest attainment of a gallant spirit. He never dreamed that such obstinacy is rather the effect of the weakness and effeminacy of a distempered mind, which breaks out in violent passions, like so many tumors; and therefore he went away in great disorder, and full of rancor against the people. Such of the young nobility as were most distinguished by the pride of birth and greatness of spirit, who had always been wonderfully taken with Marcius, and then un- luckily happened to attend him, inflamed his resentment, by expressing thnir own grief and indignation. For he was their leader in every expedition, and their instructor in the art of war: he it was who inspired them with a truly virtu- ous emulation, and taught them to rejoice in their own success, without envying the exploits of others. In the meantime, a great quantity of bread- The translation of 1758, has the name of this fort with a French termination, J'yle, which is a clear proof that the ttretk was not consulted. corn was brought to Rome, being partly bought up in Italy, and partly a present from Gelon, king of Syracuse. The aspect of affairs appear- ed now to be encouraging; and it was hoped, that the intestine broils would cease with the scarcity. The senate therefore, being immediately assem- bled, the people stood in crowds without, waiting for the issue of their deliberations. They expected that the market-rates for the corn that was bought would be moderate, and that a distribution of that which was a gift would be made gratis; for there were some who proposed, that the senate should dispose of it in that manner. But Marcius stood up, and severely censured those that spoke in favor of the commonalty, calling them dema- gogues and traitors to the nobility. He said, "They nourished, to their own great prejudice, the per- nicious seeds of boldness and petulance, which had been sown among the populace, when they should rather have nipped them in the bud, and not have suffered the plebeians to strengthen themselves with the tribunitial power. That the people were now become formidable, gaining whatever point they pleased, and not doing any one thing against their inclination; so that living in a sort of anarchy, they would no longer obey the consuls, nor acknowledge any superiors but those whom they called their own magistrates That the senators who advised that distributions should be made in the manner of the Greeks, whose government was entirely democratical, were effecting the ruin of the constitution, by encouraging the insolence of the rabble. Fot that they would not suppose they received such favors for the campaign which they had refused to make, or for the secessions by which they had deserted their country, or for the calumnies which they had countenanced against the senate: but (continued he), they will think that we yield to them through fear, and grant them such indul- gences by way of flattery; and as they will ex- pect to find us always so complaisant, there will be no end to their disobedience, no period to their turbulent and seditious practices. It would, therefore, be perfect madness to take such a step. Nay, if we are wise, we shall entirely abolish the tribunes' office,* which lias made ciphers of the consuls, and divided the city in such a manner, that it is no longer one, as formerly, but broken into two parts, which will never knit again, or cease to vex and harass each other with all the evils of discord."f Marcius, haranguing to this purpose, inspired the young senators and almost all the men of for- tune with his own enthusiasm; and they cried out that he was the only man in Rome who had a spirit above the meanness of flattery and submis- sion: yet some of the aged senators foresaw the consequence, and opposed his measures. In fact, the issue was unfortunate. For the tribunes who were present, when they saw that Marcius would have a majority of voices, ran out to the people, loudly calling upon them to stand by their own magistrates and give their best assistance. An as- sembly then was held in a tumultuary manner, !n which the speeches of Marcius were recited, and the plebeians in their fury had thoughts of break- ing in upon the senate. The tribunes pointed out their rage against Marcius in particular, by * The tribunes had lately procured a law, which made it penal to interrupt them when they were speaking to tha people. t Plutarch has omitted the most aggravating passage in Coriolanus's speech, wherein he proposed the holding up the price of bread-corn as high as ever, to keep the people in dependence and subjection. CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 165 Impeaching him i.i form, and sent for him to make his defense. But as he spurned the messengers, they went themselves, attended by the aedilf-s, to bring him by force, and began to lay hands on him. Upon this the patricians stood up for him, drove off the tribunes, and beat the oeailes; until night coining on broke off the quarrel. Early next morning, the consuls observing that the peo- ple, now extremely incensed, flocked from all quarters into the forum, and dreading what might be the consequence to the city, hastily convened the senate, and moved, "That they should consid- er how, with kind words and favorable resolutions, they might bring the commons to temper; for that this was not a time to display their ambition, nor would it be prudent to pursue disputes about the point of honor at a critical and dangerous juncture, which required the greatest moderation and deli- cacy of conduct." As the majority agreed to the motion, they went out to confer with the people, and used their best endeavors to pacify them, coolly refuting calumnies, and modestly, though not without some degree of sharpness, complain- ing of their behavior. As to the price of bread- corn and other provisions, they declared, there should be no difference between them. Great part of the people were moved with this application, and it clearly appeared, by their can- did attention, that they were ready to close with it. Then the tribunes stood up and said, " That since the senate acted with such moderation, the people were not unwilling to make concessions in their; turn; but they insisted that Marcius should come and answer to these articles: Whetlier he had not stirred up the senate to the confounding of all government, and to the destroying the people's priv- ileges ? Whether he had not refused to obey their sum- mons? Whether he had not beaten and otherwise maltreated the (ediles in the forum: and by these means (so far as in him lay) levied war, and brought Vie citizens to sheathe their swords in each other's bosoms? These things they said with a design, either to humble Marcius, by making him to sub- mit to entreat the people's clemency, which was much against his haughty temper; or, if he fol- lowed his native bent, to draw him to make the breach incurable. The latter they were in hopes of, and the rather because they knew the man well. He stood as if he would have made his de- fense, and the people waited in silence for what he had to say. But when, instead of the submis- sive language that was expected, he began with an aggravating boldness, and rather accused the com- mons, than defended himself; when with the tone of his voice and the fierceness of his looks, he ex- pressed an intrepidity bordering upon insolence and contempt, they lost all patience: and Sicinius, the boldest of the tribunes, after a short consulta- tion with his colleagues, pronounced openly, that the tribunes condemned Marcius to die. He then ordered the aediles to take him immediately up to the top of the Tarpeian rock, and throw him down the precipice. However, when they came to lay hands on him, the action appeared horrible even to many of the plebeians. The patricians, shocked and astonished, ran with great outcries to his as- sistance, and got Marcius in the midst of them, some interposing to keep off the arrest, and oth- ers stretching out their hands in supplication to the multitude; but no regard was p;iid to words and entreaties amidst such disorder and confusion, until the friends and relations of the tribunes per- ceiving it would be impossible to carry off Marcius and punish him capitally, without first spilling much patrician blood, persuaded them to alter the cruel and unprecedented part of the sentence; not to use violence in the affair, or put him to death without form or trial, but to refer all to the peo- ple's determination in full assembly. Sicinius, then a little mollified, asked the patri- cians" What they meant by taking Marcius out of the hands of the people, who were resolvfvi to pun- ish him?" To which they replied by another question, "What do you mean by thus dragging one of the worthiest men in Rome, without trial, to a barbarous and illegal execution?" "If that be all," said Sicinius, "you shall no longer have a pretense for your quarrels and factious behavior to the people: for they grant you what you desire; the man shall have his trial. And as for you, Marcius, we cite you to appear th third market- day, and satisfy the citizens of your innocence, if you can; for then by their suffrages your affair will be decided." The patricians were content with this compromise; and thinking themselves happy in carrying Marcius off, they retired. Meanwhile, before the third market-day, which was a considerable space, for the Romans hold their markets every ninth day, and thence call them NundintB, war broke out with the Antiates,* which because it was likely to be of some continu- ance, gave them hopes of evading the judgment, since there would be time for the people to become tractable, to moderate their anger, or perhaps let it entirely evaporate in the business of that expe- dition. But they soon made peace with the An- tiates, and returned: whereupon, the fears of the senate were renewed, and they often met to con- sider how things might be so managed, that they should neither give up Marcius, nor leave room for the tribunes to throw the people into new dis- orders. On this occasion, Appius Claudius, who was the most violent adversary the commons had, declared " That the senate would betray and ruin themselves, and absolutely destroy the constitu- tion, if they should once suffer the plebeians to as- sume a power of suffrage against the patricians." But the ohiest and most popular of the senators! were of opinion, " That the people, instead of be- having with more harshness and severity, would become mild and gentle, if that power were in- dulged them; since they did not despise the senate, but rather thought themselves despised by it; and the prerogative of judging would be such an honor to them, that they would be perfectly satisfied, and immediately lay aside all resentment. Marcius, then seeing the senate perplexed be- tween their regard for him and fear of the people, asked the tribunes, "What they accused him of, and upon what charge he was to be tried before the people?" Being told, "That he would be tried for treason against the commonwealth, in design- ing to set himself up as a tyrant:"^ " Let me go then (snid he), to the people, and make my de- fense; I refuse no form of trial, nor any kind of punishment, if I be found guilty. Only allege no other crime against me, and do not impose upon the senate." The tribunes agreed to these * Advice was suddenly brought to Borne, that the people of Antium had seized and confiscated the ships belonging to Gelon's ambassadors in iheir return to Sicily, and had even imprisoned the ambassadors. Hereupon they took up arms to chastise the Antiates, but they submitted and made satisfaction. t Valerius was at the head of these. He insisted also at large on the horrible consequences of a civil war. J It was never known that any person who affected to set himself up tyrant, joined with the nobility against the people, but on the contrary conspired with the peuple against the nobility. "Beside," said he. in his defense, "it was to save these citizens, that I received the wounds yon see: let the tribunes show, if they can, how such ac- tions are consistent with the treacherous designs they lay to my charge." 166 PLUTARCH'S LIVES conditions, and promised that the cause should turn upon this one point. But the first thing they did after the people were assembled, was to compel them to give their voices by tribes,* and not by centuries: thus con- triving that the meanest and most seditious part of the populace, and those who had no regard to justice or honor, might out-vote such as had borne arms, or were of some fortune and charac- ter. In the next place, they passed by the charge of his affecting the sovereignty, because they could not prove it, and, instead of it, repeated what Marcius sometime before had said in the sen- ate, against lowering the price of corn, and for abolishing the tribunitial power. And they added to the impeachment a new article, namely, his not bringing into the public treasury the spoils he had taken in the country of the Antiates, but dividing them among tiie soldiers.f This last accusation is said to have discomposed Marcius more than all the rest; for it was what he did not expect, and he could not immediately think of an answer that would satisfy the commonalty; the praises he be- stowed upon those who made that campaign with him, serving only to raise an outcry against him from the majority, who were not concerned in it. At last, when they came to vote, he was con- demned by a majority, of three tribes, and the penalty to be inflicted upon him was perpetual banishment. After the sentence was pronounced, the people were more elated, and went off in greater trans- ports than they ever did on account of a victory in the field; the senate, on the other hand, were in the greatest distress, and repented that they had not run the last risk, rather than suffer the people to possess themselves of so much power, and use it in so insolent a manner. There was no need then to look upon their dress, or any other mark of distinction, to know which was a plebeian and which a patrician; the man that exulted, was a plebeian: and the man that was dejected, a pa- trician. Marcius alone was unmoved and unhumbled. Still lofty in his port and firm in his countenance, he appeared not to be sorry for himself, and to be the only one of the nobility that was not. This air of fortitude was not, however, the effect of reason or moderation, but the man was buoyed up by anger and indignation. And this, though the vulgar know it not, has its rise from grief, which, when it catches flame, is turned to anger, and then bids adieu to all feebleness and dejection. Hence, the angry man is courageous, just as he who has a fever is hot, the mind being upon the stretch and in a violent agitation. His subse- quent behavior soon showed that he was thus affected. For having returned to his own house, and embraced his mother and his wife, who lamented their fate with the weakness of women, reign of Servius Tullius, the voices had gathered by centuries. The consuls were for the ancient custom, bein well apprised that * From the always been keeping up the ancient custom, being they could save Coriolanus, if the voices were reckoned by centuries, of which the knights and the wealthiest of the Citizens made the majority, being pretty sure of ninety-eight out of a hundred and seventy-three. But the artful tribunes alleging that, in an affair relating to the rights of the people! every citizen's vote ought to have its due weight, would not by any means consent to let the voices be collected other- wise than by tribes. t "This,"' said the Tribune Decius, "is a plain proof of his evil designs: with the public money he secured to him- self creatures and guards, and supporters of his intended usurpation. Let him make it appear that he had power to dispose of this booty without violating the laws. Let him answer to this one article, without dazzling us with the splendid show of his crowns and scars, or using any other *n to blind the assembly." he exhorted them to bear it with patience, and then hastened to one of the city gates, being con- ducted by the patricians in a body. Thus he quitted Rome, without asking or receiving aught at any man's hand; and took with him only three or four clients. He spent a few days in a solitary manner at some of his farms near the city, agitated with a thousand different thoughts, such as his anger suggested; in which he did not propose any advantage to himself, but considered only how he might satisfy his revenge against the Romans. At last he determined to spirit up a cruel war against them from some neighboring nation; and for this purpose to apply first to the Volscians, whom he knew to be yet strong both in men and money, and whom he supposed to be rather exas- perated and provoked to farther conflicts, than absolutely subdued. There was then a person at Antium, TuMus Aufidius, by name r $ highly distinguished arr ong the Volscians, by his wealth, his valor, and r ^ble birth. Marcius was very sensible, that of all the Romans, himself was the man whom Tullus i lost hated. For, excited by ambition and ernulal .on, as young warriors usually are, they had in seve- ral engagements encountered each other vit.h menaces, and bold defiances, and thus had added personal enmity to the hatred which reigned Be- tween the two nations. But notwithstanding *1! this, considering the great generosity of Tulliis, and knowing that he was more desirous thai any of the Volscians of an opportunity to retur: upon the Romans part of the evils his country haa suffered, he took a method which strongly con- firms that saying of the poet, Stern wrath, how strong thy sway! though life's the for r e:t Thy purpose must be gained. For, putting himself in such clothes and h&bil .- ments as were most likely to prevent his being known, like Ulysses, He stole into the hostile town. It was evening when he entered, and though many people met him in the streets, not one of them knew him. He passed therefore on to the house of Tullus, where he got in undiscovered, and hav- ing directly made up to the fireplace,f he seated himself without saying a word, covering his face and remaining in a composed posture. The peo- ple of the house were very much surprised; yet they did not venture to disturb him, for there was something of dignity both in his person and his silence; but they went and related the strange adventure to Tullus, who was then at supper. Tullus, upon this, rose from table, and coming to Coriolanus, asked him Who he was, and upon what business he was come? Coriolanus, uncovering his face, paused awhile, and then thus addressed him: "If thou dost not yet know me. Tullus, but distrustest thine own eyes, I must of necessity be mine own accuser. I am Caius Marcius, who have brought so many calamities upon the Vol- scians, and bear the additional name of Coriolanus, which will not suffer me to deny that imputation, were I disposed to it. For all the labors and dan- gers I have undergone, I have no other reward left but that appellation, which distinguishes rny enmity to your nation, and which cannot indeed be taken from me. Of everything else I am de- * Livy and Dionysius of Halicarnassus call him Tullns Attius; and with them an anonymous MS. agrees, rfufrdius, however, which is very near the Bodleian reading, has a Latin sound, and probably was what Plutarch meant U> write. t The fireplace, having the domestic gods in it, was es- teemed sacred; and therefore all suppliants resorted to it. at to an asylum. CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 167 pived by tl,e envy and outrage of the people, on the oiie hand, and the cowardice and treachery of the magistrates and those of mine own order, on the other. Thus driven out an exile, I am come a suppliant to thy household gods; not for shelter and protection, for why should I come hither, if I were afraid of death? but for vengeance against those who have expelled me, which rnethinks, I begin to take, by putting myself into thy hands. If, therefore, thou art disposed to attack the ene- my, come on, brave Tullus, avail thyself of my mfsfortunes; let my personal distress be the com- mon happiness of the Volscians. You may be assured, 1 shall fight much better for you than I have fought against you, because they who know perfectly the state of the enemy's affairs, are much more capable of annoying them, than such as do not know them. But if thou hast given up all thoughts of war, 1 neither desire to live, nor is it fit for thee to preserve a person who of old has been thine enemy, and now is not able to do thee any sort of service." Tullus, delighted with this address, gave him hi? hand, and "Rise," said he, "Marcius, and take courage. The present you thus make of yourself is inestimable; and you may assure your- self that the Volscians will not be ungrateful." Then he entertained him at his table with great kindness; and the next and the following days they consulted together about the war. U.orne was then in great confusion, by reason of the animosity of the nobility against the com- mons, which was considerably hightened by the late condemnation of Marcius. Many prodigies were also announced by private persons, as well as by the priests and diviners, one of which was as follows: Titus Latinus,* a man of no high rank, but of great modesty and candor, not addicted to superstition, much less to vain pretenses to what is extraordinary, had this dream. Jupiter, he thought, appeared to him, and ordered him to tell the senate, Thai they had provided him a very bad and ill-favored leader of the dance in the sacred pro- cession. When he had seen this vifcion, he said, he paid but little regard to it at first. It was pre sented a second and a third time, and he neglected it: whereupon he had the unhappiness to see his son sicken and die. and he himself was suddenly struck in such a manner, as to lose the use of his limbs. These par'iculars he related in the senate- house, being carried on his couch for that purpose. And he had no sooner made an end, than he per- ceived, as they tell us, his strength return, and rose up and walked home without help. The senate wen? much surprised, and made a strict inquiry into the affair; the result of which was, that a certain householder had delivered up one of his slaves, who had been guilty of some offense, to his other servants, with an order to whip him through the market-place, and then put him to death. While they were executing this order, and scourging the wretch, who writhec himself, through the violence of pain, into various postures, f the procession happened to come up Many of the people that composed it were firec with indignation, for the sight was excessively disagreeable and shocking to humanity; yet no- body gave him the least assistance; only curses and execrations were vented against the man who punished with so much cruelty. For in those Livy calls him Titus Atinius. t According to Dionysius of Halicnrnassus, the maste had given orders that the slave should be punished at the head of the procession, to make the ignominy the more notorious: which was a still greater affront to the deity in whose honor the procession was led up. times they treated their slaves with great modera- tion, and this was natural, because they worked and even ate with them. It was deemed a great mnishment for a slave who had committed a ault, to take up that piece of wood with which hey supported the thill of a wagon, and carry t round the neighborhood. For he that was thus exposed to the derision of the famiy and other in- mbitants of the place, entirely lost his credit, and was styled Furcifer: the Romans calling that piece of timber furca which the Greeks call hypostates, ;hat is, a supporter. When Latinus had given the Senate an ac- count of his dream, and they doubted who this ill- favored and bad leader of the dance might be, the excessive severity of the punishment put some of them in mind of the slave who was whipped through the market-place, and afterward put to death. All the priests agreeing that he must be the person meant, his master had a heavy fine laid upon him, and the procession and games were exhibited anew in honor of Jupiter. Hence t appears, that Numa's religious institutions in general are very wise, and that this in particular is highly conducive to the purposes of piety, namely, that when the magistrates or priests are employed in any sacred ceremony, a herald goes before, and proclaims aloud, Hoc age, i. e. be at' tentive to this; thereby commanding everybody to regard the solemn acts of religion, and not to suf- fer any business or avocation to intervene and dis- turb them; as well knowing, that men's attention, especially in what concerns the worship of the gods, is seldom fixed, but by a sort of violence and constraint. But it is not only in so important a case that the Romans begin anew their sacrifices, their processions, and games: they do it for very small matters. If one of the horses that draw the cha- riots called Tens<B, in which are placed the images of the gods, happened to stumble, or if the chario- teer took the reins in his left hand; the whole procession was to be repeated. And in later ages they have set about one sacrifice thirty several times, on account of some defect or inauspicious appearance in it. Such reverence have the Ro- mans paid to the Supreme Being. Meantime Marcius and Tullus held secret con- ferences with the principal Volscians, in which they exhorted them to begin the war, while Rome was torn in pieces with factious disputes; but a sense of honor restrained some of them from break- ing the truce which was concluded for two years. The Romans, however, furnished them with a pretense for it, having, through some suspicion or false suggestion, caused proclamation to be made at one of the public shows or games, that all the Volscians should quit the town before sunset. Some say, it was a stratagem contrived by Mar- cius, who suborned a person to go to the consuls, and accuse the Volscians of a design to attack the Romans during the games, and to set fire to the city. This proclamation exasperated the whole Volscian nation against the Romans: and Tullus, greatly aggravating the affront,* at last persuaded them to send to Rome to demand that the lands and cities which had been taken from them in the war should be restored. The senate having heard what the ambassadors had to say, answered with indignation, " tiiat the Volscians might be the * "We alone," said he, "of all the different nations now in Rome, are not thought worthy to see the games. We alone, like the profanest wretches and outlaws, are driven from a public festival. Go, and tell in all your cities and villages the distinguishing mark the Romans have put upon 168 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. first lo take up arms, but the Romans would be the last to lay them down." Hereupon, Tullus summoned a general assembly of his countrymen, whom lie advised to send for Marcius, and forget- ting all past injuries, to rest satisfied that the ser- vice he would do them, now their ally, would greatly exceed all the damage they had received from him. while their enemy. Marcius accordingly was called in, and made an oration to the people; who found that he knew how to speak as well as to fight, and that he ex- celled in capacity as well as courage, and there- fore they joined him in commission with Tullus. As he was afraid that the Volscians would spend much time in preparations, and so lose a favorable opportunity for action, he left it to the magistrates and other principal persons in Antium to provide troops and whatever else was necessary, while he, without iniiking any set levies, took a number of volunteers, and with them overran the Roman ter- ritories before anybody in Rome could expect it. There he made so much booty, that the Volscians found it difficult to carry it off, and consume it in the camp. But tne great quantity of provisions ha collected, and the damage he did the enemy, by committing such spoils, was the least part of the service in this expedition. The great point he hcid in view, in the whole matter, was to in- crease, the people's suspicions of the nobility. For, while he ravaged the whole country, he was very attentive to spare the lands of the patricians, and to see that nothing should be carried off from them. Hence, the ill-opinion the two parties had of each other; and consequently the troubles grew greater than ever; the patricians accusing the ple- beians of unjustly driving out one of the bravest men in Rome, and the plebeians reproaching them with bringing Marcius upon them, to indulge their revenge, and with sitting secure spectators of what others suffered by the war, while the war itself was a guard to their lands and subsistence. Marcius having thus effected his purpose, and inspired the Volscians with courage, not only to meet, but even to despise the enemy, drew off his party without being molested. The Volscian forces assembled with great expe- dition and alacrity: and they appeared so consi- derable, that it was thought proper to leave part to garrison their towns, while the rest marched against the Romans. Coriolanus leaving it in the option of Tullus which corps he wo"!d command, Tullus observed, that as his colleague was not at all inferior to himself in valor, and had hitherto fought with better success, he thought it most ad- visable for him to lead the army into the field, while himself stayed behind to provide for the defense of the towns, and to supply the troops, that made the campaign, with everything neces- sary.* Marcius, strengthened still more by this division of the command, marched first against Circeii,t a Roman colony; and as it surrendered without resistance, he would not suffer it to be plundered. After this he laid waste the territories of the Latins, expecting that the Romans would hazard a battle for the Latins, who were their allies, and * It would have been very imprudent in Tullus to have .eft Coriolanus, who had been an enemy, and now mi"ht possibly be only a pretended friend, at the head of an army in the bowels of his country, while he was marching at the head of nnother against Rome. t For the right termination of this, and other towns soon after mentioned, see Livy, hook ii, c. 39. Plutarch calls the town Circaum. His error is much greater, when a little below he writes Cloclite instead of CluiLite. Sometimes, too, the former translator makes a mistake where Plutuich aad made none. by frequent messengers called upon them for assistance. But the commons of Rome showed no alacrity in the affair, and the consuls, whose office was almost expired, were not willing to run such a risk, and therefore rejected the request of the Latins. Marcius then turned his arms against Tolerium, Labici, Pedum, and Bola, cities of La- tium, which he took by assault; and because they made resistance, sold the inhabitants as slaves, and plundered their houses. At the same time he took particular care of such as voluntarily came over to him; and that they might not sus- tain any damage against his will, he always en- camped at the greatest distance he could, and would not even touch upon their lands, if he could avoid it. Afterward he took Bollae, which is little more than twelve miles from Rome, where he put to the sword almost all that were of age to bear arms, and got much plunder. The rest of the Volscians, who were left as a safeguard to the towns, had not patience to remain at home any longer, but ran with their weapons in their hands to Marcius, declaring that they knew no other leader or general but him. His name and his valor were renowned through Italy. All were astonished that one man's changing sides could make so prodigious an alteration in affairs. Nevertheless, there was nothing but disorder at Rome. The Romans refused to fight, and passed their time in cabals, seditious speeches, and mu- tual complaints; until news was brought that Coriolanus had laid siege to Lavinium, where the holy symbols of the gods of their fathers were placed, and from whence they derived their origi- nal, that being the first city which ^Eneas built A wonderful and universal change of opinion then appeared among the people, and a very strange and absurd one among the patricians. The people were desirous to annul the sentence against Marcius, and to recall him to Rome, but the senate being assembled to deliberate on that point, finally rejected the proposition; either out of a perverse humor of opposing whatever mea- sure the people espoused, or perhaps unwilling that Coriolanus should owe his return to the favor of the people; or else having conceived some re- sentment against him for harassing and distressing all the Romans, when he had been injured only by a part, and for showing himself an enemy to his country, in which he knew the most respect- able body had both sympathized with him, and shared in his ill-treatment: this resolution being announced to the commons,* it was not in their power to proceed to vote, or to pass a bill; for a previous decree of the senate was necessary. At this news, Coriolanus was still more exaspe- rated; so that quitting the siege of Lavinium,f lie marched with great fury toward Rome, and en- camped only five miles from it, at the Fosset CtuiLitB. The sight of him caused great terror and confusion, but for the present it appeased the sedition: for neither magistrate nor senator durst any longer oppose the people's desire to recall him. When they saw the women running up and down the streets, and the supplications and tears of the aged men at the altars of the gods, when all courage and spirit were gone, and salu- tary councils were no more; then they acknow- * Perhaps the senate now refused to comply with the de- mands of the people, either to clear themselves from the suspicion of maintaining a correspondence with Coriolanus, or possibly out of that magnanimity which made the Ro- mans averse to peace, when they were attended with bd success in war. t He left a body of troops to continue the blockade. CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 169 ledged that the people were right in endeavoring to be reconciled to Coriolanus, and that the senate were under a great mistake, in beginning to Indulge the passions of anger and revenge at a time when they should have renounced them. All, therefore, agreed to send ambassadors to Cori- oianus to offer him liberty to return, and to en- treat him to put an r id to the war. Those that went on the part of the senate, being all either relations or friends of Coriolanus, expected at the first interview much kindness from a man who was thus connected with them. But it happened quite otherwise; for, being conducted through the Volscian ranks, they found him seated in council, with a number of great officers, and with an insuf- ferable appearance of pomp and severity. He bade them then declare their business, which they did in a very modest and humble manner, as be- came the state of their affairs. When they had made an end of speaking, he answered them with much bitterness and high resentment of the injuries done him ; and, as general of the Volscians, he insisted "That the Romans should restore all the cities and lands which they had taken in the former wars; and that they should grant by decree the freedom of the city to the Volscians, as they had done to the Latins; for that no lasting peace could be made between the two nations, but upon these just and equal conditions." He gave them thirty days to consider of them; and having dismissed the am- bassadors, he immediately retired from the Roman territories. Several among the Volscians, who for a long time had envied his reputation, and had been un- easy at the interest he had with the people, availed themselves of this circumstance to calumniate and reproach him. Tullus himself was of the number. Not that he had received any particular injury from Coriolanus; but he was led away by a pas- sion too natural to man. It gave him pain to find his own glory obscured, and himself entirely ne- glected by the Volscians, who looked upon Corio- lanus as their supreme head, and thought that others might well be satisfied with that portion of power and authority which he thought proper to allow them. Hence, secret hints were first given, and in their private cabals his enemies expressed their dissatisfaction, giving the name of treason to his retreat. For though he had not betrayed their cities or armies, yet they said he had traitor- ously given up time, by which these and all other things are both won and lost. He had allowed them a respite of no less than thirty days, know- ing their affairs to be so embarrassed, that they wanted such a space to re-establish them. Coriolanus, however, did not spend those thirty days idly. He harassed the enemy's allies,* laid waste their lands, and took seven great and popu- lous cities in that interval. The Romans did not venture to send them any succors. They were as spiritless, and as little disposed to the war, as if their bodies had been relaxed and benumbed with the palsy. When the term was expired, and Coriolanus returned with all his forces, they sent a second embassy, "To entreat him to lay aside his resent- ment, to draw off the Volscians from their terri- tories, and then to proceed as should seem most conducive to the advantage of both nations. For that the Romans would not give up anything through fear; but if he thought it reasonable that By this he prevented the allies of the Romans from as- listing them, and guarded against the charge of treachery, which some of the Volscians were ready to bring against the Volscians should be indulged in some particu- lar points, they would be duly considered if they laid down their arms." Coriolanus replied, "That as general of the Volscians, he would give them no answer; but as one who was yet a citizen of Rome, he would advise and exhort them to enter- tain humble thoughts, and to come within three days with a ratification of the just conditions he had proposed. At the same time he assured them, that if their resolutions should be of a different nature, it would not be safe for them to come any more, into his camp with empty words." The senate, having received the report of the ambassadors, considered the commonwealth as ready to sink in the waves of a dreadful tempest, and therefore cast the last, the sacred anchor, as it is called. They ordered all the priests of the gods, the ministers and guardians of the mysteries, and all that, by the ancient usage of their country, practiced divination by the flight of birds, to go to Coriolanus, in their robes, with the ensigns which they bear in the duties of their office, and exert their utmost endeavors to persuade him to desist from the war, and then to treat with his country- men of articles of peace for the Volscians. When they came, he did, indeed, vouchsafe to admit them into the camp, but showed them no other favor, nor gave them a milder answer than the others had received ; he bade them, in short, " either accept the former proposals, or prepare for war." When the priests returned, the Romans resolved to keep close within the city, and to defend the walls; intending only to repulse the enemy, should he attack .them, and placing their chief hopes on the accidents of time and fortune: for they knew of no resource within themselves; the city was full of trouble and confusion, terror, and unhappy presages. At last, something happened similar to what is often mentioned by Homer, but which men in general are little inclined to believe. For when, on occasion of any great and uncommon event, he says, Pallas inspired that counsel; and again, But some immortal power who rules the mind Changed their resolves; and elsewhere, The thought spontaneous rising, Or by some god inspired They despise the poet, as if, for the sake of ab- surd notions and incredible fables, he endeavored to take away our liberty of will. A thing which Homer never dreamed of: for whatever happens in the ordinary course of things, and is the effect of reason and consideration, he often ascribes to our own power; as, My own great mind, 1 then consulted. And in another place, Achilles heard with grief; and various thought! Perplexed his mighty mind. Once more, But she in vain Tempted Bellerophon. The noble youth With Wisdom's shield was arm'd. And in extraordinary and wonderful action;*, which require some supernatural impulse and en- thusiastic movement, he never introduces tho Deity as depriving man of freedom of will, but as moving the will. He does not represent the heavenly Power as producing the resolution, but ideas which lead to the resolution. Tho act, 170 PLUTARCH'S LI VES. therefore, is by no means involuntary, since oc- casion is only given to free operations, and con- fidence and good hope are superadded. For either the Supreme Being must be excluded from all causality and influence upon our actions, or it must be confessed that this is the only way in which he assists men and co-operates with them; since it is not to be supposed that he fashions our corporeal organs or directs the motions of our hands and feet to the purposes he designs, but that by certain motives and ideas which he sug- gests, he either excites the active powers of the will or else restrains thMfc* The Roman women were then dispersed fn the several temples, but the greatest part and the most illustrious of the matrons made their suppli- cations at the altar of Jupiter Capitolinus. Among the last was Valeria, the sister of the great Publi- cola, a person who had done the Romans the most considerable services both in peace and war. Publicola died some time before, as we have rela- ted in his life; but Valeria still lived in the great- est esteem ; for her life did honor to her high birth. This woman discerning by some divine impulse, what would be the best expedient, rose and called upon the other matrons to attend her to the house of Volumnia,t the mother of Corio- lauus. When she entered, and found her sitting with her daughter-in-law, and with the children of Coriolanus on her lap, she approached her with her female companions, and spoke to this effect: 'We address ourselves to you, Volumnia and Virgilia, as women to women, without any de- cree of the senate or order of the consuls. But our god, we believe, lending a merciful ear to our prayers, put it in our minds to apply to you, and to entreat you to do a thing that will not only be salutary to us and the other citizens, but more glorious for you, if you hearken to us, than the reducing their fathers and husbands from mortal enmity to peace and friendship, was to the daughters of the Sabines. Come, then, go along with us to Coriolanus ; join your instances to ours; and give a true and honorable testimony to your country, that though she has received the greatest injuries from him, yet she has neither done nor resolved upon anything against you in her anger, but restores you safe into his hands, though perhaps she may not obtain any better terms to herself on that account." When Valeria had thus spoken, the rest of the women joined her request. Volumnia gave them this answer: " Beside the share which we have in the general calamity, we are, my friends, in particular, very unhappy; since Marcius is lost to us, his glory obscured, and his virtue gone; since we behold him surrounded by the arms of the enemies of his country, not as their prisoner, but their commander. But it is still a greater misfor- tune to us, if our country is become so weak as to have need to repose her hopes upon us. For I know not whether lie will have any regard for us, since he has had none for his country, which he used to prefer to his mother, to his wife, and child- ren. Take us, however, and make what use of us you please. Lead us to him. If we can do nothing else, we can expire at his feet in supplica- ting for Rome." She then took the children and Virgilia 4 with * Plutarch represents the Divine assistance as a moral influence, prevailing (if it does prevail) by rational motives. And the best Christian divines describe it in the same manner. t Dionysius of Halicarcassus and Livy call his mother Veturia, and his wife Volumnia. her,* an/] went with the other matrons to tho Volscian camp. The sight of them produced, even in the enemy, compassion and a reverential silence. Coriolanus, who then happened to be seated upon the tribunal with his principal officers, seeing the women approach, was greatly agitated and surprised. Nevertheless, he endeavored to retain his wonted sternness and inexorable temper, though he perceived that his wife was at the head of them. But, unable to resist the emotions of affection, he could not suffer them to address him as he sat. He descended from the tribunal and ran to meet them. First he embraced hit mother for a considerable time, and afterward hia wife and children, neither refraining from tears nor any other instance of natural tenderness. When he had sufficiently indulged his passion, and perceived that his mother wanted to speak, he called the Volscian counselors to him, and Volumnia expressed herself to this purpose: "You see, rny son, by our attire and miserable looks, and therefore I may spare myself the trouble of declaring, to what condition your banishment has reduced us. Think with yourself whether we are not the most unhappy of women, when fortune has changed the spectacle that should have been the most pleasing in the world, into the most dreadful; when Volumnia beholds her son, and Virgil ia her husband, encamped in a hostile man- ner before the walls of his native city. And what to others is the greatest consolation under misfor- tune and adversity, I mean prayer to the gods, to us is rendered impracticable; for we cannot at the same time beg victory for our country and your preservation, but what our worst enemies would imprecate on us, a curse, must of necessity be interwoven with our prayers. Your wife and children must either see their country perish, or you. As to my own part, I will not live to see this war decided by fortune. If I cannot per- suade you to prefer friendship and union, to en- mity and its ruinous consequences, and so to be- come a benefactor to both sides, rather than the destruction of one, you must take this along with you, and. prepare to expect it, that you shall not advance against your country, without trampling upon the dead body of her that bore you. For it does not become me to wait for that day, when my son shall be either led captive by his fellow- citizens, or triumph over Borne. If, indeed, I desired you to save your country by ruining the Volseians, I confess the case would be hard, and the choice difficult : for it would neither be hon- orable to destroy your countrymen, nor just to betray those who have placed their confidence in you. But what do we desire of you, more than deliverance from our own calamities? A deliv- erance which will be equally salutary to both parti es/f but most to the honor of the Volscians, since it will appear that their superiority em- powered them to grant us the greatest of bless- ings, peace and friendship, while they themselves receive the same. If these take place, you will be acknowledged to be the principal cause of them ; if they do not, you alone must expect to bear the blame from both nations. And though tbe chance of war is uncertain, yet it will be the Valeria first gavv advice of this design to the consuls, who proposed it in the senate, where, after long debutes it was approved of by the fathers. Then Vetnria, and th most illustrious of the Roman matrons, in chariots which the consuls had ordered to be got ready for them, look then way to the enemy's camp. t She begged a truce lor a year, that in that time mea cures might be taken for settling a solid and lasting peace. CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS. 171 certain event of this, that if you conquer, you will be a destroying demon to your country; if you are beaten, it will be clear that, by indulging your resentment, you have plunged your friends and benefactors in the greatest of misfortunes." Coriolanus listened to his mother while she went on with her speech, without saying the least word to her ; and Voluinuia, seeing him stand a long time rnute after she had left speaking, proceeded again in this manner: "Why are you silent, my son? Is it an honor to yield everything to auger and resentment, and would it be a dis- grace to yield to your mother in so important a petition? Or does it become a great man to re- member the injuries done him, and wold it not equally become a great and good man, with the highest regard and reverence, to keep in mind the benefits he has received from his parents? Surely you, of all men, should take care to be grateful, who have suffered so extremely by in- gratitude. And yet, though you have already severely punished your country, you have not made your mother the least return for her kind- ness. The most sacred ties both of nature and religion, without any other constraint, require that you should indulge me in this just and rea- sonable request; but if words cannot prevail, this only resource is left." When she had said this, she threw herself at his feet, together with his wife and children; upon which Coriolanus crying out, "0 mother! what is it you have done?" raised her from the ground, and tenderly pressing her hand, continued, "You have gained a victory fortunate for your country, but ruinous to me.* I go, vanquished by you alone." Then, after a short conference with his mother and wife in private, he sent them back to Rome, agreeably to their desire. Next morning he drew off the Volscians, who had not all the same sentiments of what had passed. Some blamed him; others, whose inclinations were for peace, found no fault; others again, though they disliked what was done, did not look upon Coriolanus as a bad man, but thought he was excusable in yielding to such powerful solicitations. However, none presumed to contradict his orders, though they followed him rather out of veneration for his virtue, than re- gard to his authority. The sense of the dreadful and dangerous cir- cumstances which the Roman people had been in, by reason of the war, never appeared so strong as when they were delivered from it. For no sooner did they perceive from the walls, that the Vol- scians were drawing off, than all the temples were opened and filled with persons crowned with gar- lands, and offering sacrifice, as for some great victory. But in nothing was the public joy more evident than in the affectionate regard and honor which both the senate and people paid the wo- men, whom they both considered and declared the means of their preservation. Nevertheless, when the senate decreedf that whatever they thought would contribute most to their glory and satisfaction, the consuls should take care to see it done, they only desired that a temple might be built to the FORTUNE OF WOMEN, the expense of which they offered to defray themselves, requiring the commonwealth to be at no other charge than that of sacrifices, and such a solemn service as was suitable to the majesty of the gods. The senate, though they commended their generosity, ordered * He well foresaw that the Volscians would never forgive him the favor he did their enemies. t It was decreed that an encomium of those matrons hould be engraven on a public monument. the temple and shrine to be erected at tho public charge;* but the women contributed their money notwithstanding, and with it provided another rnage of the goddess, which the Romans report, when it was set up in the temple, to have uttered these words, O WOMEN ! MOST ACCEPTABLE TO THK GODS IS THIS YOUR PIOUS GIFT. They fabulously report that this voice was re- peated twice, thus offering to our faith things that appear impossible. Indeed, we will not deny that images may have sweated, may have been covered with tears, and emitted drops like blood. Foi wood and stone often contract a scurf and moldi- ness, that produce moisture; and they not only exhibit many different colors themselves, but receive variety of tinctures from the ambient air at the same time there is no reason why the Deity may not make use of these signs to announce things to come. It is also very possible that 8 sound like that of a sigh or a groan may pro- ceed from a statue, by the rupture or violent separation of some of the interior parts: but that an articulate voice and expression so clear, so full and perfect, should fall from a thing inani- mate, is out of all the bounds of possibility. Foi neither the soul of man, nor even God himself, can utter vocal sounds, and pronounce worda without an organized body and parts fitted foi utterance. Wherever, then, history asserts such things, and bears us down with the testimony of many credible witnesses, we must conclude that some impression not unlike that of sense, influ enced the imagination, and produced the belief of a real sensation; as in sleep we seem to heai what we hear not, and to see what we do not see As for those persons, who are possessed with such a strong sense of religion, that they cannot reject anything of this kind, they found their faith ou the wonderful and incomprehensible power of God. For there is no manner of resemblance between him and a human being, either in his nature, his wisdom, his power, or his operations If, therefore, he performs something which we cannot effect, and executes what with us is impos- sible, there is nothing in this contradictory to reason; since, though he far excels us in every- thing, yet the dissimilitude and distance between him and us, appear most of all in the works which he hath wrought. But much knowledge of things divine, as Heraclitus affirms, escapes us through want of faith. When Coriolanus returned, after this expedition, to Antium, Tullus, who both hated and feared him, resolved to assassinate him immediately; being per- suaded, that if he missed this, he should not have such another opportuity. First, therefore, he col- lected and prepared a number of accomplices, and then called upon Coriolanus to divest himself of his authority, and give an account of his conduct to the Volscians. Dreading the consequence of being reduced to a private station, while Tullus, who had so great an interest with his countrymen, was in power, he made answer, that if the Volscians re- quired it, he would give up his commission, and not otherwise, since he had taken it at their com- mon request; but that he was ready to give an ac- count of his behavior even then, if the citizens of Antium would have it so. Hereupon, they met in full assembly, and some of the orators who were prepared for it, endeavored to exasperate tb*) populace against him. But when Coriolanus stood * It was erected in the Latin way, about four miles from Rome, on the place where Veturia had overcome the obti- nacy of her son. Valeria, who had proposed so successful a deputation, was the first priestess of this temple, which was much frequented by the Roman women. 172 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. up, the violence of the tumult abated, and he had liberty to speak; the best part of the people of Au- tiuin, and those that were most inclined to peace, appearing ready to hear him with candor, and to pass Sentence with equity. Tullus was then afraid that he would make but too good a defense: for he was an eloquent man, and the former advantages which he had procured the nation, outweighed his present offense. Nay, the very impeachment was a clear proof of the greatness of the benefits he had conferred upon them. For they would never have thought themselves injured in not conquering Rome, if they had not been near taking it through his means. The conspirators, therefore, judged it prudent not to wait any longer, or to try the mul- titude; and the boldest of their faction, crying out that a traitor ought not to be heard, or suffered by the Volscians to act the tyrant, and refuse to lay down his authority, rushed upon him in a body, and* killed him on the spot; not one that was present lifting a hand to defend him. It was soon evident that this was not done with the gen- eral approbation; for they assembled from several cities, to give h!s body an honorable burial-* and adorned his monument with arms and spoils, as became a distinguished warrior and general. When the Romans were informed of his death, they showed no sign either of favor or resentment. Only they permitted the women, at their request, to go into mourning for ten months, as they used to do for a father, a son, or a brother; this being the longest term for mourning allowed by Numa Pom- pilius, as we have mentioned in his Life. The Volscian affairs soon wanted the abilities of Marcius. For, first of all, in a dispute which they had with the JEqul, their friends and allies, which of the two nations should give a general to their armies, they proceeded to blows, and a num- ber were killed and wounded; and afterward coming to a battle with the Romans, in which they were defeated, and Tullus, together with the flower of their army, slain, they were forced to accept of very disgraceful conditions of peace, by which they were reduced to the obedience of Rome, and obliged to accept of such terms as the conquerors would allow them. ALCIBIADES AND CORIOLANUS COMPARED. HAVINC now given a detail of all the actions of these two great men, that we thought worthy to be known and remembered, we may perceive at one glance that as to their military exploits the balance is nearly even. For both gave extraordi- nary proofs of courage as soldiers, and of prudence and capacity as commanders-in-chief : though, per- haps, some may think Alcibiades (he more com- plete general, on account of his many successful expeditions at sea as well as land. "But this is common to both, that when they had the com- mand, and fought in person, the affairs of their country infallibly prospered, and as infallibly de- clined when they went over to the enemy. As to their behavior in point of government, if the licentiousness of Alcibiades, and his compli- ances with the humor of the populace, were abhor- red by the wise and sober part of the Athenians; the proud and forbidding manner of Coriolanus, and his excessive attachment to the patricians, were equally detested by the Roman people. In this re- spect, therefore, neither of them is to be com- mended; though he that avails himself of popular arts, and shows too much indulgence, is less blame- able than he, who, to avoid the imputation of ob- sequiousness, treats the people with severity. It is, indeed a disgrace to attain to power by flatter- ing them; but on the other hand, to pursue it by acts of insolence and oppression, is not only shame- ful, but unjust. That Coriolanus had an openness and simplicity of manners, is a point beyond dispute, while Al- cibiades was crafty and dark in the proceedings of his administration. The latter has been most blamed for the trick which he put upon the Lace- daBnioniau ambassadors, as Thucydides tells us, and by which he renewed the war. Yet this stroke of policy, though it plunged Athens again in war, rendered the alliance with the Mantineans and Ar- gives, which was brought about by Alcibiades, much stronger and more respectable. But was Uionyiias of Ilalicarnasias ays, they stoned him to not Coriolanus chargeable with a falsity too, when as Dionysius informs us, he stirred up the Ro- mans against the Volscians, by loading the latter with an infamous calumny, when they went to see the public games? The cause, too, maker this action the more criminal: for it was not by ambition or a rival spirit in politics that he wai influenced, as Alcibiades was; but he did it t gratify his anger, a passion which, as Dion says is ever ungrateful to its votaries. By this means he disturbed all Italy, and in his quarrel with his country, destroyed many cities which had never done him any injury. Alcibiades, indeed, was tlxe author of many evils to the Athenians, but was easily reconciled to them, when he found that they repented. Nay, when he was driven a second time into exile, he could not bear with patience the blunders committed by the new generals, nor see with indifference the dangers to which they were exposed : but observed the same conduct which Aristides is so highly extolled for with re- spect to Themistocles. He went in person to those generals, who, he knew, were not his friends, and showed them what steps it was proper for * They dressed him in his general's robes, and laid his corpse on a magnificent bier, which was carried by snch young officers as were most distinguished for their martial exploits. Before him were borne^the spoils he had taken from the enemy, the crowns he had gained, and plans of the cities he had taken. In this order his body was laid on the pile, while several victims were slain in honor to his memory. When the pile was consumed, they gathered uji his ashes, which they interred on the spot, and erected a magnificent monument there. Coriolanus was slain in the second year of the seventy-third Olympiad, in the two hun- dred and sixty-sixth year of Rome, and eight years after his first campaign. According to this account, he died in the flower of his age; but Livy informs us, from Fabius, a very ancient author, that he lived until he was very old: and that in the decline of life he was wont to say, that "A state of exile was always uncomfortable, hut more so to an old man than to another." We cannot, however, think that Coriolanus grew old among the Volscians. Had he done so, his counsels would have preserved them from ruin; and after Tullus was slain, he would have restored their affairs, and have got them admitted to the rights and privilegei of Roman citizens, in the same manner as the Latiui. ALCIBIADES AND CORIOLANUS COMPARED. 173 them to take. Whereas Coriolanus directed his revenge against tlie wliole commonwealth, though he had not been injured by the whole, but the best and most respectable part both suffered and sympathized with him. And afterward, when the Romans endeavored to make satisfaction for that single grievance by many embassies and much submission, lie was not in the least pacified or won; but showed himself determined to prosecute a cruel war, not in order to procure his return to his native country, but to conquer and to ruin it. It may, indeed, be granted, that there was this differ- ence in the case: Alcibiades returned to the Athe- nians, when the Spartans, who both feared and hated him, intended to dispatch him privately. But it was not so honorable in Coriolanus to de- sert the Volscians, who had treated him with the utmost kindness, appointed him general with full authority, and reposed in him the highest confi- dence: very different iu this resp*ect from Alcibi- ades, who was abused, to their own purposes, rather than employed and trusted by the Lacedae- monians; and who, after having been tossed nbout in their city and their camp, was at last obliged to put himself in the hands of Tissaphernes. But, perhaps, he made his court to the Persian* in or- der to prevent the utter ruin of his country, to which he was desirous to return. History informs us, that Alcibiades often took bribes, which he lavished again with equal dis- credit upon his vicious pleasures; while Coriolanus refused to receive even what the generals he served under would have given him with honor. Hence the behavior of the latter was the more detested by the people in the disputes about debts; since it was not with a view to advantage, but out of contempt and by way of insult, as they thought, that he bore so hard upon them. Antipater, in one of his epistles, where he speaks of the death of Aristotle the philosopher, tells us, "That great man, beside his other extra- ordinary talents, had the art of insinuating him- self into the affections of those he conversed with." For want of this talent, the great actions and vir- tues of Coriolanus were odious even to those who received the benefit of them, and who, notwith- standing, could not endure that austerity, which, as Plato says, is the companion of solitude. But as Alcibiades, on the other hand, knew how to treal those with whom he conversed with an engaging civility, it is no wonder if the glory of his exploits flourished in the favor and honorable regard of mankind, since his very faults had sometimes their grace and elegance. Hence it was, that thougl his conduct was often very prejudicial to Athens yet he was frequently appointed commander-in- chief; while Coriolanus, after many great achieve- ments, with the best pretensions, sued for the con- sulship, and lost it. The former deserved to be hated by his countrymen, and was not; the lattei was not beloved, though at the same time he was admired. We should, moreover, consider, thai Coriolanus performed no considerable services while he commanded the armies of his country though for the enemy against his country he did but that Alcibiades, both as a soldier and general did great things for the Athenians. When among his fellow-citizens, Alcibiades was superior to a!' the attempts of his enemies, though their calum For he prevented Tissaphernes from assisting the Spar lans with all his forces. Thus he served the Athenian: and the Persians at the same time. For it was undouht wily the interest of the Persians to preserve the two lead inj; powers of Greece in a condition to annoy each other ut f in the meantime) to reap the advantage themselves. nies prevailed against him in his absence; whereas Coriolanus was condemned by the Romans, though iresent to defend himself; and at length, killed by :he Volscians, against all rights, indeed, whether luman or divine: nevertheless, he afforded them a color for what they did, by granting that peace to the ei: treaties of the women, which he had refused to the application of the ambassadors; by that neans leaving the enmity between the two nations, and the grounds of the war entire, and losing a very favorable opportunity for the Volscians. For surely he would not have drawn off the forces, without the consent of those that committed them to his conduct, if he had sufficiently regarded his duty to them. But if, without considering the Volscians in the least, he consulted his resentment only in stir- ring up the war, and put a period to it again when that was satisfied, he should not have spared his country on his mother's account, but have spared her with it; for both his mother and wife made a part of his native city which lie was besieging. But inhumanly to reject the application and en- treaties of the ambassadors, and the petition of the priests, and then to consent to a retreat in favor of his mother, was not doing honor to his mother, but bringing disgrace upon his country; since, as if it was not worthy to be saved for its own sake, it appeared to be saved only in compassion to a wo- man. For the favor was invidious, and so far from being engaging, that, in fact, it savored of cruelty, and consequently was unacceptable to both parlies. He retired without being won by the supplications of those he was at war with, and without consent of those for whom he undertook it. The cause of all which was, the austerity of his manners, his arrogance and inflexibility of mind, things hateful enough to the people at all times; but, when united with ambition, savage and intolerable. Persons of his temper, as if they had no need of honors, neglect to ingratiate them- selves with the multitude, and yet are excessively chagrined when those are denied them. It is true, neither Metellus. nor Aristides, nor Epaminondas, were pliant to the people's humor, or could sub- mit to flatter them; but then they had a thorough contempt of everything that the people could either give or take .away; and when they were banished, or on any other occasion, miscarried in the suffrages, or were condemned in large fines, they nourished no anger against their ungrateful countrymen, but were satisfied with their repen- tance, and. reconciled to them at their request. And, surely, he who is sparing in his assiduities to the people, can but with an ill-grace think of revenging any slight he may suffer: for extreme resentment, in case of disappointment in a pur- suit of honor, must be the effect of an extreme desire of it. Alcibiades, for his part, readily acknowledged, that he was charmed with honors, and that he was very uneasy at being neglected; and therefore he endeavored to recommend himself to those he had to do with, by every engaging art. But the pride of Coriolanus would not permit him to make his court to those who were capable of conferring honors upon him; and at the same time his ambi- tion filled him with regret and indignation when they passed him by. This, then, is the blamable part of his character; all the rest is great and glorious. In point of temperance and disregard of riches, he is fit to be compared with the most illustrious examples of integrity in Greece, and not witji Alcibiades, who, in this respect, was the most profligate of men, and had the least regard for decency and honor. 174 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. T I M L E N . THE affairs of the Syracusans, before Timoleon was sent into Sicily, were in this posture: Dion, having driven out Dionysius the tyrant, was soon assassinated: those that with him had been the means of delivering Syracuse, were divided among themselves; and the city, which only changed one tyrant for another, was oppressed with so many miseries, that it was almost desolate.* As for the rest of Sicily, the wars had made part of it quite a desert, and most of the towns that remained were held by a confused mixture of barbarians and sol- diers, who, having no regular pay, were ready for avery change of government. Such being the state of things, Dionysius, in the tenth year alter his expulsion, having got to- gether a body of foreigners, drove out Nysaeus, then master of Syracuse, restored his own affairs, and re-established himself in his dominions. Thus he who had been unaccountably stripped by a small body of men of the greatest power that any tyrant ever possessed, still more unaccountably, of a beg- garly fugitive, became the master of those who had expelled him. All, therefore, who remained iu Syracuse, became slaves to a tyrant, who, at the best, was of an ungentle nature, and at that time exasperated by his misfortunes to a degree of savage ferocity. But the best and most consi- derable of the citizens having retired to Icetes, prince of the Leontines, put themselves under his piotection, and chose him for their general. Not that he was better than the most avowed tyrants; but they had no other resource: and they were willing to repose some confidence in him, as be- ing of a Syracusan family, and having an army able to encounter that of Dionysius. Iu the meantime, the Carthaginians appearing before Sicily with a great fleet, and being likely to avail themselves of the disordered state of the island, the Sicilians, struck with terror, deter- mined to send an embassy into Greece, to beg assistance of the Corinthians; not only on account of their kindred to that people, f and the many services they had received from them on former occasions, but because they knew that Corinth was always a patroness of liberty and an enemy to tyrants, and that she had engaged in many con- siderable wars, not from a motive of ambition or avarice, but to maintain the freedom and indepen- dence of Greece. Hereupon Icetes, whose inten- tion iu accepting the command was not so much * Upon Dion's death, his murderer Callippus usurped the supreme power; but after ten months he was driven out, and slain with the same dagger which he had planted in the breast of his friend. Hipparinus, the brother of Diony- sius, arriving with a numerous fleet, possessed himself of the city of Syracuse, and held it for the space of two years. Syracuse and all Sicily being thus divided into par- ties and factions, Dionysius the younger, who had been driven from tiie throne, taking advantage of these troubles, assembled some foreign troops : and having defeated Ny- sstus, who was then governor of Syracuse, reinstated him- elf in his dominions. t The Syracnsans were a colony from Corinth, founded by Archias the Corinthian, in the second year of the eleventh Olympiad, seven hundred and thirty-three years before the Christian era. Sicily had been planted with Phoenicians and other barbarous people, as the Grecians called them, above three hundred years before. to deliver Syracuse from its tyrants, as to set up himself there in the same capacity, treated pri- vately with the Carthaginians, while in public he commended the design of the Syracusans, anrj dispatched ambassadors along with theirs into Peloponnesus. Not that he was desirous of suc- cors from thence, but he hoped that if the Corin- thians, on account of the trouble* of Greece and their engagements at home, should, as it was likely enough, decline sending any, he might the more easily incline the balance to the side of the Carthaginians, and then make use of their alliance and their forces, either against the Syracusans or their present tyrant. That such were his views, a little time discovered. When the ambassadors arrived, and their busi- ness was known, the Corinthians, always accus- tomed to give particular attention to the concerns of the colonies, anci especially those of Syracuse, since by good fortune they had nothing to molest thetfi in their own country, readily passed a vote that the succors should be granted. The next thing to be considered, was, who should be gene- ral; when the magistrates put in nomination such as had endeavored to distinguish themselves iu the state; but one of the plebeians stood up and proposed Timoleon, the son of Timodemus, who as yet bad no share In the ousiness of the com- monwealth, and was so far from hoping or wish- ing for such an appointment, that it seemed some god inspired him with the thought: with such indulgence did fortune immediately promote his election, and so much did her favor afterward signalize his actions, and add luster to his valor! His parentage was noble on both sides; for both his father Timodemus, and his mother Denmriste, were of the best families in Corinth. His love of his country was remarkable, and so was the mild- ness of his disposition, saving that he bore an extreme hatred to tyrants mid wicked men. His natural abilities for war were so happily tempered, that as an extraordinary prudence was seen in the enterprises of his younger years, so an undaunted courage distinguished his declining age. He had an elder brother, named Timophanes, who re- sembled him iu nothing; being rash and indiscreet of himself, and utterly corrupted beside, by the passion for sovereignty, infused into him by some of his profligate acquaintance, and certain foreign soldiers whom he had always about him. He ap- peared to be impetuous in war, and to court dan- ger, which gave his countrymen such an opinion of his courage and activity, that they frequently intrusted him with the command of the army. And in these matters Timoleon much assisted him, by entirely concealing, or at least extenuat- ing his faults, and magnifying the good qualities which nature had given him. In the battle between the Corinthians and the troops of Argos and Cleone, Timoleon happened to serve among the infantry, when Timophanes, who was at the head of the" cavalry, was brought into extreme danger; for his horse being wounded, threw him amidst the enemy. Hereupon, part of his companions were frightened, and presently dispersed; and the few that remained, having to fight with numbers, with difficulty stood (heir TIMOLEON. 175 ground. Timoleon, seeing his brother in these circumstances, ran to his assistance, and covered him as he lay with his shield; and after having received abundance of darts, and many strokes of the sword upon his body and his armor, by great efforts repulsed the enemy, and saved him. Some time after this, the Corinthians, appre- hensive that their city might be surprised through some treachery of their allies, as it had been be- fore, resolved to keep on foot four hundred mercenaries, gave the command of them to Timo- phanes. But he, having no regard to justice or honor, soon entered into measures to subject the city to himself, and having put to death a number of the principal inhabitants without form of trial, declared himself absolute prince of it. Timoleon, greatly concerned at this, and accounting the treacherous proceedings of his brother his own misfortune, went to expostulate with him, and en- deavored to persuade him to renounce this mad- ness and unfortunate ambition, and to bethink himself how to make his fellow-citizens some amends for the crimes he had committed. But as he rejected his single admonition with disdain, he returned a few days after, taking with him a kinsman, named yEschylus, brother lo the wife of Timophanes, and a certain soothsayer, a friend of his, whom Theopompus calls Satyrus, but Ephorus and Timaeus mention by the name, of Orthagoras. These three, standing round iiim, earnestly entreated him yet to listen to reason and change his mind. Timophanes at first laughed at them, and afterward gave way to a violent passion: upon which Timoleon stepped aside, and , stood weeping, with his face covered, while the other two drew their swords, and dispatched him in a moment.* The matter being soon generally known, the principal and most valuable part of the Corinthians extolled Timoleon's detestation of wickedness, and that greatness of soul, which, notwithstanding the gentleness of his heart and his affection to his re- lations, led him to prefer his country to his family, and justice and honor to interest and advantage. While his brother fought valiantly for his country, he had saved him; and slain him, when he had treacherously enslaved it. Those who knew not how to live in a democracy, and had been used to make their court to men in power, pretended in- deed to rejoice at the tyrant's death; but at the same time reviling Timoleon, as guilty of a hor- rible and impious deed, they created him great uneasiness. When he heard how heavily his mother bore it, and that she uttered the most dreadful wishes and imprecations against him, he went to excuse it and to console her: but she could not endure the thought of seeing him. and ordered the doors to be shut against him. He then became entirely a prey to sorrow, and at- tempted to put an end to his life by abstaining from all manner of food. In these unhappy cir- cumstances his friends did, not abandon him. They even added force to their entreaties, until they prevailed ton him to live. He determined, liowever, to live in solitude: and accordingly he withdrew from all public affairs, and for some * Diotlorns, in the circumstances of this fact differs from Plutarch. He tells us, that Timoleon, -having killed his brother in the market-place with his own hand, a great tumult arose among the citizens. To appease this tumult, an assembly was convened; and, in the bight of their de- bates, the Syracusan ambassadors arrived, demanding a gt-neral; whereupon they unanimously agreed to send Tim- oleon; but first let him know, that if he discharged his duty there well, he should be considered as one who had killed a tyrant; if not, as the murderer of his brother. Diodor. Sicui. 1. xvi, c. 10. years did not so much as approach the city, but wandered about the most gloomy parts of his grounds, and gave himself up to melancholy. Thus the judgment, if it borrows not from reason and philosophy sufficient strength and steadiness for action, is easily unsettled and depraved by any casual commendation or dispraise, and departs from its own purposes. For an action should not only be just and laudable in itself, but the prin- ciple from which it proceeds firm and immovable, in order that our conduct may have the sanction of our own approbation. Otherwise, upon the completion of any undertaking, we shall, through our own weakness, be filled with sorrow and re- morse, and the splendid ideas of honor and virtue, that led us to perform it, will vanish; just as the glutton is soon cloyed and disgusted with the lus- cious viands which he had devoured with too keen an appetite. Repentance tarnishes the best actions; whereas the purposes that are grounded upon knowledge and reason never change, though they may happen to be disappointed of success Hence it was that Phocion of Athens, having vigorously opposed the proceedings of Leosthenes,* which, notwithstanding, turned out much more happily than he expected; when he saw the Athe- nians offering sacrifice, and elated with their vic- tory, told them he was glad of their success, but if it was to do over again, lie. should give the same counsel. Still stronger was the answer which Aristides the Locrian, one of Plato's intimate friends, gave to Dionysius the elder, when he de- manded one of his daughters in marriage, / had rather' see the virgin in her grave, than in the palace of a tyrant. And when Dionysius soon after put his son to death, and then insolently asked him What he now thought as to the disposal of his daugh- ter? I am sorry, said he, for what you have done, but I am not sorry for what I have said. How- ever, it is only a superior and highly accomplish- ed virtue that can attain such hights as these. As for Timoleon's extreme dejection in con- sequence of the late fact, whether it proceeded from regret of his brother's fate, or the reverence he bore his mother, it so shattered and impaired his spirits, that for almost twenty years he was concerned in no important or public affair. When, therefore, he was pitched upon for general, and accepted as such by the suffrages of the people, Teleclides, a man of the greatest power and reputa- tion in Corinth, exhorted him in the execution of his commission: For, said he, if your conduct be good, we shall consider you as the destroyer of a tyrant: if bad, as the murderer of your brother. While Timoleon was assembling his forces, and preparing to set sail, the Corinthians received let- ters from Icetes, which plainly discovered his revolt and treachery. For his ambassadors were no sooner set out for Corinth, than he openly join- ed the Carthaginians, and acted in concert with them, in order to expel Dionysius from Syracuse, and usurp the tyranny himself. Fearing, more- over, lest he should lose his opportunity, by the speedy arrival of the army from Corinth, he wrote to the Corinthians to acquaint them, "That there was no occasion for them to put themselves to trouble and expense, or to expose themselves to the dangers of a voyage to Sicily; particularly as the Carthaginians would oppose them, and were watching for their ships with a numerous fleet; and that indeed, on account of the slowness of their motions, he had been forced to engage those very Carthaginians to assist him against the tyrant. If any of the Corinthians before were cold and * See the Life of Phocion. 176 PLUTARCH'S LIVES indifferent as to the expedition, upon the reading of these letters, they were one and all so incensed against Icetes, that they readily supplied Timoleon with whatever he wanted, and united their en- deavors to expedite his sailing. When the fleet was equipped, the priestesses of Proserpine had a dream, wherein that goddess and her mother Ceres appeared to them in a traveling garb, and told then), "That they intended to accompany Timoleon into Sicily." Hereupon the Corin- thians equipped a second galley, which they call- ed the galley J 'the goddesses. Timoleon himself went to Delphi, where he offered sacrifice to Apollo; and, upon his descending into the place where the oracles were delivered, was surprised with this wonderful occurrence: A wreath, em- broidered witli crowns and images of victory, slip- ped down from among the offerings that were hung up there, and fell upon Thnoleon's head, so that Apollo seemed to send him out crowned upon that enterprise. He had seven ships of Corinth, two of Corcyra, and a tenth fitted out by the Leucadians, with which he put to sea. It was in the night that he set sail, and with a prosperous gale he was mak- ing his way, when on a sudden the heavens seem- ed to be rent asunder, and to pour upon his ship a bright and spreading flarne, which soon formed itself into a torch, such as is used in the sacred mysteries; and having conducted them through their whole course, brought them to that quarter of Italy for which they designed to steer. The soothsayers declared that this appearance perfect- ly agreed with the dream of the priestesses, and that by this light from heaven, the goddesses showed themselves interested in the success of the expedition. Particularly as Sicily was sacred to Proserpine; it being fabled that her rape happened 'here, and that the island was bestowed on her as nuptial gift. The fleet, thus encouraged with tokens of the divine favor, very soon crossed the sea, and made the coast of Italy. But the news brought thither from Sicily much perplexed Timoleon, and. dis- heartened his forces. For Icetes having beaten Dionysius in a set battle,* and taken great part of Syracuse, had by a line of circumvallation, shut up the tyrant in the citadel and that part of the 3ity which is called the island, and besieged him there. At the same time he ordered the Cartha- ginians to take care that Timoleon should not land in Sicily; hoping, when the Corinthians were driven off, without farther opposition, to ?hare the island with his new allies. The Cartha- ginians, accordingly, sent away twenty of their jalleys to Rhegium, in which were ambassadors from Icetes to Timoleon, charged with proposals juite as captious as his proceedings themselves: "or they were nothing but specious and artful vords, invented to give a color to his treacherous lesigns. They were to make an offer, " That Timoleon might, if he thought proper, go, and insist Icetes with his counsel, and share in hi? successes; but that he must send back his ships and troops to Corinth, since the war was almost finished, and the Carthaginians were determined o prevent their passage, and ready to repel force *ith force." isions, withdrew * Icetes, finding himself in want of provi .")j)!n the siege of Syracuse toward his UOU OI part ui 11. \_/m auunui uuscr vc;>, <t inue DCiOW, +iat Syracuse, being divided by strong walls, was, as it v*re, an assemblage of cities. The Corinthians, then, as soon as they arrived at Rhegium, meeting with this embassy, and see- ing the Carthaginians riding at anchor near them, were vexed at the insult: a general indignation was expressed against Icetes, and fear for the Sicilians, whom they plainly saw left as a prize, to reward Icetes for his treachery, and the Car- thaginians for assisting in setting him up tyrant. And it seemed impossible for them to get the bet- ter, either of the barbarians, who were watching them with double the number of ships, or of the forces of Icetes, which they had expected would have joined them, and put themselves under their command. Timoleon, on this occasion, coming to an inter- view with the ambassadors and the Carthaginian commanders, mildly said, "He would submit to their proposals," for what could he gain by oppos- ing them? "but he was desirous that they would give them in publicly before the people of Rhegium, ere he quitted that place, since it was a Grecian city, and common friend to botii parties. For that this tended to his security, and they themselves would stand more firmly to their engagements, if they took that people for witnesses to them." This overture he made only to amuse them, intending all the while to steal a passage, and the magistrates of Rhegium entered heartily into his scheme: for they wished to see the affairs of Sicily in Corinthian hands, and dreaded the neighbor- hood of the barbarians. They summoned, there- fore, an assembly, and shut the gates, lest the citizens should go about any other business. Be- ing convened, they made long speeches, one of them taking up the argument where another laid it down, with no other view than to gain time for the Corinthian galleys to get under sail; and the Carthaginians were easily detained in the assem- bly, as having no suspicion, because Timoleon was present, and it was expected every moment that he would stand up and make his speech. But upon secret notice that the other galleys had put to sea,* and his alone was left behind, by the help of the Rhegians, who pressed clcse to the ros- trum, a ad concealed him among t' em, he slipped througlt the crowd, got down to the shore, and hoisted sail with all speed. He SDOII arrived, with all his vessels at Tauro- menium in Sicily, to which he had been invited some time before, and where he was now kindly received, by Andrornachus, lord of that cityj This Andromachus was father to Timseus the his- torian; and being much the best of all the Sicilian princes of his time, he both governed his own people agreeably to the laws and principles of justice, and had ever avowed his aversion and enmity to tyrants. On this account he readily allowed Timoleon to make his city a place of arms, and persuaded his people to co-operate with the Corinthians with all their force, in restorh)g liberty to the whole island. The Carthaginians at Rhegium, upon the break- ing up of the assembly, seeing that Timoleon was gone, were vexed to find themselves outwitted; and it afforded no small diversion 'to the Rhegians that Phoenicians should complain of anything effect ed by guile. They dispatched, however, one of their gar- leys with an ambassador to Tauromenium, who represented the affair at large to Andromachus, insisting with much insolence and barbaric pride, that he should immediately turn the Corinthians *The Carthaginians believed that the departure of those nine galleys for Corinth had been agreed on be- tween the officers of both parties, and that the tenth WM left behind to carry Timoleon vo Icetes TIMOLEON 177 out of his town; and at last showing him his hand with the palm upward, and then turning it down again, told him, if he did not comply with that condition, the Carthaginians would overturn his city just as he had turned his hand. Androma- chus only smiled, and without making him any other answer, stretched out his hand, first with one side up, and then the other, and bade him be- gone directly, if he did not choose to have his ship turned upside down in the same manner. Icetes hearing that Timoleon had made good his passage, was much alarmed, and sent for a great number of the Carthaginian galleys. The Syracusans then began to despair of a deliver- ance ; for they saw the Carthaginians masters of their harbor,* Icetes possessed of the city, and the citadel in the hands of Dionysius ; while Timoleon held only by a small bonier of the skirts of Sicily, the little town of Taurome- nium, with a feeble hope, and an inconsiderable force, having no more than a thousand men, and provisions barely sufficient for them. Nor had the Sicilian states any confidence in him, plung- ed as they were in misfortunes, and exasperated against all that pretended to lead armies to their succor, particularly on account of the perfidy of Callippus and Pharax. The one was an Athen- ian, and the other a Lacedemonian, and both came with professions to do great things for the liberty of Sicily, and for demolishing the tyrants; yet the Sicilians soon found that the reign of for- mer oppressors was comparatively a golden age, and reckoned those far more happy who died in servitude than such as lived to see so dismal a kind of freedom. Expecting, therefore, that this Corinthian deliverer would be no better than those before him, and that the deceitful hand of art would reach out to them the same bait of good hopes and fair promises, to draw them into subjection to a new master, they all, except the people of Adranum, suspected the designs of the Corinthians, and declined their proposals; Adran- um was a small city, consecrated to the god Ad- rv/ns,t who was held in high veneration through- out all Sicily. Its inhabitants were at variance with each other; some calling in Icetes and the Carthaginians, and others applying to Timoleon. Both generals striving which should get there first, as fortune would have it, arrived about the same time. But Icetes had five thousand men with him, and Timoleon twelve hundred at the most, whom he drew out of Tauromenium, which was forty-two miles and a half from Ad- ranum. The first day he made but a short inarch, and pitched his tents in good time. The next day he marched forward at a great pace, though the road was very rugged; and toward evening was informed that Icetes had just reach- ed the town, and was encamping before it. At the same time his oflicers made the foremost di- vision halt, to take some refreshment, that they might be the more vigorous in the ensuing en- gagement. This, however, was against the opin- ion of Timoleon, who entreated them to march forward as fast as possible, and to attack the ene- my before they were put in order; it being proba- ble, now they were just come off their march, that they were employed in pitching their tents and preparing their supper. He had no sooner given this order, than he took his buckler and put * The Carlliaginians had a hundred and fifty men of war, fifty thousand foot, and three hundred chariots. t This deity, by hi* tnnisnia, afterward mentioned, *honM seem to bo Mars. Lin lemple was guarded by a Hundred dogs. himself at the head of them, as leading them on to undoubted victory. His men, thus encouraged, followed him very cheerfully, being now not quite thirty furlongs from Adrunum. As soon us they came up, they foil upon the enemy, who were in great confu- sion, and ready to fly at their first approach. For this reason not many more than three hun- dred were killed, but twice as many were made prisoners, and the camp was taken. Upon this the people of Adranum opened their gates to Timoleon, and joined his party, declaring with terror and astonishment, that during the battle, the sacred doors of the temple opened of their own accord, the spear of their god was seen, to shake to the very point, and his face dropped with sweat. These things did not foreshow that victory only, but the future successes to which this dispute was a fortunate prelude. For sev- eral cities, by their ambassadors, immediately joined in alliance with Timoleon; and Mamercus, sovereign of Catana, a warlike and wealthy prince, entered into the confederacy. But what was still more material, Dionysius himself hav- ing bid adieu to hope, and unable to hold out much longer, despising Icetes, who was so shame- fully beaten, and admiring the bravery of Timo- leon, offered to deliver up to him and the Corin- thians both himself and the citadel. Timoleon accepted of this good fortune, so su- perior to his hopes, and sent Euclides and Tele- rnachus, two Corinthian officers, into the citadel, as lie did four hundred men beside, not altogeth- er, nor openly, for that was impossible, because the enemy were upon their guard, but by stealth, and a few at a time. This corps then took pos- session of the citadel and the tyrant's movables, with all that he had provided for carrying on the war, namely, a good number of horses, all man- ner of engines, and a vast quantity of darts. They found also arms for seventy thousand men which had been laid up of old, and two thousand soldiers with Dionysius, whom he delivered up with the stores to Timoleon. But the tyrant re- served his money to himself, and having got on board a ship, he sailed with a few of his friends, without being perceived by Icetes, and reached the camp of Timoleon. Then it was that he first appeared in the hum- ble figure of a private man,* and, as such,~ he was sent with one ship and a very moderate sum of money, to Corinth; he that was born in & splendid court, and educated as heir to the most absolute monarchy that ever existed. He held it for ten years,f and for twelve more, from the time that Dion took up arms against him, he was exercised continually in wars, and troubles: inso- much that the mischiefs caused by his tyranny were abundantly recompensed upon his own head in what he suffered. He saw his sons die in their youth, his daughters deflowered, and his sister, who was also his wife, exposed to the brutal lusts of his enemies, and then slaughtered with her children, and thrown into the sea, as we have re- lated more particularly in the Life of Dion. When Dionysius arrived in Corinth, there waa hardly a man in Greece who was not desirous to see him and converse with him. Some hating the * Dionsyius was horn to absolute power, whereas most other tyrants, Dionysius the elder, for instance, had raised themselves to it, and some from a mean condition. t For he began his reign in the first year of the hundred and third Olympiad, three hundred and sixty years before the Christian era. Dion took arms against him in tb fourth year of the hundred and fifth Olympiad; and he de- iivrTfil up the citadel to Timoleon. and wns sent to Cor* null, in the first year uf the hundred aud ni ilk. 178 PLUTARCH'S LIVES man, and rejoicing at his misfortunes, came for the pleasure of insulting him in his present dis- tress; others, whose sentiments, with respect to him, were somewhat changed, and who were touched with compassion for his fate, plainly saw the influence of an invisible and divine power, displayed in the affairs of feeble mortals. For neither nature nor art produced, in those times, that work of for- man who was lately sovereign of Sicily, now holding conversation in anything so remarkable tune,* which showed the butcher's shop at Corinth, or sitting whole days in a perfumer's; or drinking the diluted wine of taverns; or squabbling in the streets with lewd women; or directing female musicians in their singing; and disputing with them seriously about the harmony of certain airs that were sung in the theater.f Some were of opinion, that he fell into these unworthy amusements, as being naturally idle, effeminate, and dissolute: but others thought it was a stroke of policy, and that he rendered him- self despicable to prevent his being feared by the Corinthians, contrary to his nature, affecting that meanness and stupidity, lest they should im- agine the change of his circumstances sat heavy upon him, and that he aimed at establishing him- self again. Nevertheless, some sayings of his are on re- cord, by which it should seern that he did not bear his present misfortunes in an abject manner. When he arrived at Leucas, which was a Corin- thian colony as well as Syracuse, he said, " He found himself in a situation like that of young men who had been guilty of some misdemeanor. For as they converse cheerfully, notwithstand- ing, with their brothers, but are abashed at the thought of coming before their fathers, so he was ashamed of going to live in the mother city, and could pass his days much more to his satis faction with them." Another time, when a cer- tain stranger derided him at Corinth, in a very rude and scornful manner, for having, in the mer- idian of his power, taken pleasure in the discourse of philosophers, and at last asked him, " Wha he had got by the wisdom of Plato? " " Do yoi think," said he, " that we have reaped no advan- tage from Plato, when we bear in this manner such a change of fortune? " Aristoxenus the musician, and some others, having inquired " What was the ground of his displeasure agains Plato?" He answered, "That absolute powe abounded with evils; but had this great infelicity above all the rest, that among the number o those who call themselves the friends of an arbi trary prince, there is not one who will speak hi: mind to him freely; and that by such false friend he had been deprived of the friendship of Plato.' Some one who had a mind to be arch, and t< make merry with Dionysius, shook his rob< when he entered his apartment, as is usual whei persons approach a tyrant : and he returning th jest very well, bade him "Do the same when h went out, that he might not carry off some o the movables." One day, over their cups, Philip of Macedon with a kind of sneer, introduced some disconrs about the odesi and tragedies which Dio'nysiu the elder left behind him, and pretended to doubt how he could find leisure ior such works. Diony- sius answered sn.artiy enough, "They were written in the tirno which you and I, and other happy fellows, spend over the bowl." Plato did not see Dionysius in Corinth, for he had now been dead some time. But Diogenea of Sinope, when he first met him, addressed him as follows : " How little dost thou deserve to live ! " Thus Dionysius answered, " It is kind in you to sympathize with me in my misfor- tunes." " Dost thou think, then," said Diogen- es, " that I have any pity for thee, and that I am not rather vexed that such a slave as thou art, and so fit to grow old and die, like thy father, on a tyrant's uneasy throne, should, instead of that, live with us here in mirth and pleasure?*' So that when I compare, with these words of the hilosopher, the doleful expressions of Philistus, i which he bewails the fate of the daughters of ^eptines,* " That from the great and splendid en- oyments of absolute power, they were reduced a private and humble station," they appear o one as the lamentations of a woman, who re- rets her perfumes, her purple robes, and golden rinkets. This account of the sayings of Diony- ius, seems to me neither foreign from biography, or without its utility to such readers as are not n a hurry, or taken up with other concerns. If the ill fortune of Dionysius appeared surpri- ing, the success of Timoleon was no less won- lerful. For within fifty days after his landing n Sicily, he was master of the citadel of Syracuse and sent off Dionysius into Peloponnesus. The Corinthians, encouraged with these advantages, ent him a reinforcement of two thousand foot and two hundred horse. These got on their way as far as Thurium; but finding it impracticable to rain a passage from thence, because the sea was >eset with a numerous fleet of Carthaginians, ;hey were forced to stop there, and watch their opportunity. However, they employed their time n a very noble undertaking. For the Thurians, narching out of their city to war against the Bru- tians, left it in charge with these Corinthian strangers, who defended it with as much honor and integrity as if it had been their own. Meantime, Icetes carried on the siege of the citadel with great vigor, and blocked it up so close that no provisions could be got in for the Corin- thian garrison. He provided also two strangers to assassinate Timoleon, and sent them privately to Adranum. That general, who never kept any regular guards about him, lived then with the Adranites without any sort of precaution or sus- picion, by reason of his confidence in their tutelary god. The assassins being informed that he was going to offer sacrifice, went into the temple with their poniards under their clothes, and mixing with those that stood round the altar, got nearer Plutarch adds nor art, to give us to understand that th tragic poets had not represented so signal a catastroph even in fable. t Some writers tell us, that the extreme poverty which he was reduced, obliged him to open a school a Corinth, where he exercised that tyranny over childre which he could no longer practice over men. t Dionysius the elder valued himself npon his poetr but has "been censured as the worst poet in the world 1'hiloxenus, who was himself an excellent poet, attempted to undeceive him in the favorable opinion he had of hi* own abilities, but was sent to the Quarries for the liberty he took. However, the next day he was restored to favor, and Dionysius repeated to him some verses he had taken extraordinary pains with, expecting his approbation. But the poet, ins'tead of giving it, looked round to the guard?, and said to them, very humorously, " Take me back to th Quarries." Notwithstanding this, Dionysius disputed tin prize of poetry at the Olympic games; but there he wa hissed, and the rich pavilion he had sent torn in pieces. He had better success, however, at Athens: for ne gained the prize of poetry at the celebrated feast of Bacchus. On this occasion he was in such raptures, that he drank to ex- cess, and the debauch threw him into violent pains; to al- lay which, he asked for a sonorative, and his physician* gave him one that iaid him asleep, out of which he never Leptiiies, as mentioned below, was tyrant of Aiiolloni*. to him by little and little. They were just going to give each other the signal to begin, when some- body struck one of them on the head with his sword, and laid him at his feet. Neither he that struck the blow kept his station, nor the compan- ion of the dead man; the former with his sword in his hand, fled to the top of a high rock; and the latter laid hold on the altar; entreating Timo- leon to spare his life, on condition that he discov- ered the whole matter. Accordingly pardon was promised him, and he confessed that he and the person who lay dead, were sent on purpose to kill him. While he was making this confession, the other man was brought down from the rock, and loud- ly protested that he was guilty of no injustice, for he only took righteous vengeance on the wretch who had murdered his father in the city of Leon- tium.* And, for the truth of this he appealed to several that were there present, who all attested j the same, and could not but admire the wonder- ful management of fortune, which, moving one thing by another, bringing together the most dis- tant incidents, and combining those that have no manner of relation, but rather the greatest dissim- ilarity, makes such use of them, that the close of one process is always the beginning of another. The Corinthians rewarded the man with a present often minis because his hand had co-operated with the guardian genius of Timoleon, and he had reserv- ed the satisfaction for his private wrongs to the time when fortune availed herself of it to save the gene- ral. This happy escape had effects beyond the present, for it inspired the Corinthians with high expectations of Timoleon, when they saw the Sicilians now reverence and guard him, as a man whose person was sacred, and who was corne as minister of the gods, to avenge and deliver them. When Icetes had failed i this attempt, and saw many of the Sicilians going over to Timoleon, he blamed himself lor making use of the Carthagi- nians in small numbers only, and, availing him- self of their assistance, as it were by stealth, and as if he were ashamed of it, when they had such immense forces at hand. He sent, therefore, for Mago, their commander-in-chief, and his whole fleet; who, with terrible pomp, took possession of the harbor with a hundred and fifty ships, and landed an army of sixty thousand men, which encamped in the city of Syracuse; insomuch that every one imagined the inundation of barbarians, which had been announced and expected of old, was now come upon Sicily. For in the many wars which they had waged in that island, the Carthaginians had never before been able to take Syracuse; but Icetes then receiving them, and delivering irp the city to them, the whole became & camp of barbarians. The Corinthians, who still held the citadel, found themselves in very dangerous and difficult circumstances; for beside that, they were in want of provisions, because the port was guarded and blocked up, they were employed in sharp and continual disputes about the walls, which were attacked with all manner of machines and batter- ies, and for the defense of which they were obliged to divide themselves. Timoleon, however, found means to relieve them, by sending a supply of coin from Catana in small fishing boats and little ekilFs, which watched the opportunity to make their way through the enemy s fleet, when it hap- pened to be separated by a storm. Mago and Icetos no sooner saw this, than they resolved to TIMOLEON. 179 make themselves masters of Catana, from which provisions were sent to the besieged; and taking with them the best of their troops, they sailed from Syracuse. Leo, the Corinthian, who com- manded in the citadel, having observed, from the top of it, that those of the enemy who stayed behind, abated their vigilance, and kept up an in- different guard, suddenly fell upon them as they were dispersed; and killing some, and putting the rest to flight, gained the quarter called Ackradina which was much the strongest, and had suffered the least from the enemy; for Syracuse is an as- semblage, as it were, of towns.* Finding plenty of provisions and money there, he did not give up the acquisition, nor return into the citadel, but stood upon his defense in the Ackradina, having fortified it quite round, and joined it by new works to the citadel. Mago and IceU-s were now near Catana, when a horseman dispatched from Syra- cuse, brought them tidings that the Achradina was taken, which struck them with such surprise that they returned in great hurry, having neither taken the place which they went against, nor kept that which they had before. Perhaps prudence and valor have as much right as fortune to lay claim to these successes; but the event that next ensued is wholly to be ascribed to the favor of fortune. The corps of Corinthians that were at Thurium, dreading the Carthaginian fleet, which, under the command of Hanno, observed their motions, and finding at the same time that the sea for many days was stormy and tempestu- ous, determined to march through the country of the Brutians: and partly by persuasion, partly by force, they made good their passage through the territories of the barbarians, and came down t Rhegium, the sea still continuing rough as be- fore. The Carthaginian admiral, not expecting the Corinthians would venture out, thought it was in vain to sit still; and having persuaded himself that he had invented one of the fi nest stratagems in the .world, ordered the mariners to crown themselves with garlands, and to dress up the galleys, with Grecian and Pho2nician bucklers, and thus equipped, he sailed to Syracuse. When he came near the citadel, he hailed it with loud huzzas and expressions of triumph, declaring that he was just come from beating the Corinthian succors, whom he had met with at sea, as they were endeavoring at a passage. By this means he hoped to strike terror into the besieged. While he was acting this part, the Corinthians got down to Rhegium, and as the coast was clear and the wind, falling as it were miraculously, promised smooth water and a safe voyage, they immediately went aboard such barks and fishing boats as they could find, and passed over into Sicily with so much safety and in such a dead calm, that they even drew the horses by the reins, swimming by the side of the vessels. When they were all landed and had joined Timoleon, he soon took Messanajf and from thence he marched in good order to Syracuse, depending more upon his good fortune, than his forces, for he had not above four thousand mea with him. On the first news of his approach, Mago was greatly perplexed and alarmed, and * H story can hardly afford a strong terfenng Proctdcnce. iger instance of an in- * There were four : the Isle, or the citadel, whicn wa* between the two ports; Achradina, at a little distance from the citadel; Tychc, so called from the temple of For- tune; and JVeapolis, or the new city. To these some emi- nent authors (and Plutarch is of the number) add a fifth, which they call Epipolw. t Measana, iu the ancient Sicilian pronunciation; now Messina. 180 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. his suspicions were increased on the following occasions. The marshes about Syracuse,* which receive a great deal of fresh water from the springs and from the lakes and rivers that discharge themselves there into the sea, have such abun- dance of eels, that there is always plenty for those that choose to fish for them. The common sol- diers of both sides amused themselves promiscu- ously with that sport, at their vacant hours, and upon any cessation of arms. As they were all Greeks and had no pretense for any private ani- mosity against each other, they fought boldly when they met in battle, and in time of truce they mixed together, and conversed familiarly. Bu- sied at one of these times in their common di- versions of fishing, they fell into discourse and expressed their admiration of the convenience of the sea, and the situation of the adjacent places. Whereupon one of the Corinthian sol- diers thus addressed those that served under Icetes: "And can you who are Greeks readily consent to reduce this city, so spacious in itself, and blessed with so many advantages, into the power of the barbarians, and to bring the Cartha- ginians, the most deceitful and bloody of them all into our neighborhood; when you ought to wish that between them and Greece there were many Sicilies; or can you think that they have brought an armed force from the pillars of Hercules and the Atlantic ocean, and braved the hazards of war purely to erect a principality for Icetes; who, if he had had the prudence which becomes a general, would never have driven out his founders, to call into his country the worst of itis enemies, when he might have obtained of the Corinthians and Ti- moleon any proper degree of honor and power?" The soldiers that were in pay with Icetes. re- 1 elting their discourses often in their camp, gave , go, who had long wanted a pretense to begone, j room to suspect that he was betrayed. And i though Icetes entreated him to stay, and remon- | strated upon their great superiority to the enemy, yet he weighed anchor and sailed back to. Africa, shamefully and unaccountably suffering Sicily to felip out of his hands. Next day, Timoleon drew up his army in order of battle before the place; but when he and his Corinthians were told that Mago was fled, and saw the harbor empty, they could not forbear laughing at his cowardice; and by way of mock- ery, they caused proclamation to be made about the city, promising a reward to any one that could give information where the Carthaginian fleet was gone to hide itself. Icetes, however, had still the spirit to stand a farther shock, and would not let go his hold, but vigorously defended those quar- ters of the city which he occupied, and which ap- peared almost impregnable. Timoleon, therefore, divided his forces into three parts; and himself with one of them made his attack by the river of Anapus, where he was likely to meet with the warmest reception; commanding the second, which was under Isias the Corinthian, to begin their operations from the Achradina, while Dinar- chus and Demaretus, who brought the last rein- forcement from Corinth, should attempt the Epipola, so that several impressions being made at the same time and on every side, the soldiers of Icetes were overpowered and put to flight. Now, that the city was taken by assault, and suddenly reduced, upon the flight of the enemy, we may justly impute to the bravery of the troops and the There is one moras.i that is called Lysimelia, and another called Syraco From this last the city took its nnme. These morasses make the air of Syracuse very onwholesouie. G ability of their general ; but that not one Corin- thian was either killed or wounded, the fortune of Timoleon claims entirely to herself, willing as she seems, to maintain a dispute with his valor* and those who read his story, may rather ad- mire his happy success, than the merit of his ac- tions. The fame of this great achievement soon overspread not only Sicily and Italy, but in a few days it resounded through Greece: so that the city of Corinth, which was in some doubt whether its fleet was arrived in Sicily, was informed by the same messengers, that its forces had made good their passage and were victorious. So well did their affairs prosper, and so much luster did fortune add to the gallantry of their exploits, by the speeoiness of their execution. Timoleon, thus master of the citadel, did not proceed like Dion, or spare the place for its beau- ty and magnificence ; but guarding against the suspicions which first slandered, and then de- stroyed that great man, he ordered the public crier to give notice, " That all the Syracusans who were willing to have a hand in the work, should come with proper instruments to destroy the bulwarks of tyranny." Hereupon they came out one and all, considering that proclamation and that day as the surest commencement of their liberty; and they not only demolished the citadel, but leveled with the ground both the palaces and the monuments of the tyrants. Hav- ing soon cleared the place, he built a common hall there for the seat of judicature, at once to gratify the citizens, and to show that a popular government should be erected on the ruins of tyranny. The city thus taken was found comparatively destitute of inhabitants. Many had been slain in the wars and intestine broils, and many more had fled from the rage of the tyrants. Nay, so little frequented was the market-place of Syracuse, that it produced grass enough for the horses to pasture upon, and for the grooms to repose them- selves by them. The other cities, except a very few, were entire deserts, full of deer and wild boars, and such as had leisure for it often hunted them in the suburbs and about the walls; while none of those that had possessed themselves of castles and strongholds could be persuaded to quit them, or corne down into the city, for they looked with hatred and horror upon the tribunals and other seats of government, as so many nur- series of tyrants. Timoleon and the Syracusans, therefore, thought proper to write to the Corin- thians, to send them a good number from Greece to people Syracuse, because the land must other- wise lie uncultivated, and because they expected a more formidable war from Africa, being in- formed that Mago had killed himself, and that the Carthaginians, provoked at his bad conduct in the expedition, had crucified his body, and were collecting great forces for the invasion of Sicily the ensuing summer. These letters of Timoleon being delivered, the Syracusan ambassadors attended at the same time, and begged of the Corinthians to take their city into their protection, and to become founders of it anew. They did not, however, hastily seize that advantage, or appropriate the city to them selves, but first sent to the sncred games and the other great assemblies of Greece, and caused proclamation to be made by their heralds, " That the Corinthians having abolished arbitrary powerin Syracuse, and expel'ed the tyrant, invited all Sy- racusans and other Sicilians to people that city, where they shonld enjoy their liberties and privi- leges, and have the lands divided by equal lot* TIMOLEON. 181 among them " Then they sent envoys into Asia and the islands, where they were told the greatest part of the fugitives were dispersed, to exhort them all to come to Corinth, where they should be provided with vessels, commanders, and a con- voy at the expense of the Corinthians, to conduct them safe to Syracuse. Their intentions thus published, the Corinthians enjoyed the justest praise and the most distinguished glory, having delivered a Grecian city from tyrants, saved it from the barbarians, and restored the citizens to their country. But the persons who met on this occasion at Corinth, not being a sufficient num- ber, desired that they might take others along with them from Corinth and the rest of Greece, as new colonists; by which means having made up their number full ten thousand, they sailed to Syra- cuse. By this time great multitudes from Italy and Sicily had flocked in to Timoleon; who, find- ing their number, as Athanis reports, amount to sixty thousand, freely divided the lands among them, but sold the houses for a thousand talents. By this contrivance he both left it in the power of the ancient inhabitants to redeem their own, and took occasion also to raise a stock for the community, who had been so poor in all respects, and so little able to furnish the supplies for the war, that they had sold the very statues, after having formed a judicial process against each, and passed sentence upon them, as if they had been so many criminals. On this occasion, we are told, they spared one statue, when alt the rest were condemned, namely, that of Gelon, one of their ancient kings, in honor of the man, and for the sake of the victory* which he gained over the Carthaginians at Hirnera. Syracuse being thus revived, and replenished with such a number of inhabitants who flocked to it from all quarters, Tirnoleon was desirous to bestow the blessing of liberty on the other cities hlso, and once for all to extirpate arbitrary govern- ment out of Sicily. For this purpose, marching into the territories of the petty tyrants, he com- pelled Icetes to quit the interests of Carthage, to agree to demolish his castles, and to live among the Leontines as a private person. Leptines, also, prince of Apollcnia and several other little towns, finding himself in danger of being taken, sur- rendered, and had his life granted him, but was Bent to Corinth: for Tirnoleon looked upon it as a glorious thing, that the tyrants of Sicily should be forced to live as exiles in the city which had colonized that island, and should be seen, by the Greeks, in such an abject condition. After this, he returned to Syracuse4o settle the civil government, and establish the most import- ant and necessary laws,f along with Cephalus and Dinarchus, lawgivers sent from Corinth. In the meanwhile, willing that the mercenaries should reap some advantage from the enemy's country, and be kept from inaction, he sent Dinarchus and Demaretus into the Carthaginian province. These drew several cities from the Punic interest, and not only lived in abundance themselves, but * He defeated Hamilcar, who landed in Sicily, with three hundred thousand men, in the second year of the sev- enty-fifth Olympiad. t Among other wise institutions, he appointed a chief magistrate to be chosen yearly, whom the Syracusans call- ed the Jlmphipolus of Jupiter Olympius ; thus giving him a kind of snored character. The first Jlmphipolus was Commenes. Hence arose the custom among the Syracu- lans to complete their years by the respective govern- ments of those magistrates ; which custom continued in the time of Diodorus Siculus, that is, in the reign of Au- gustus, above three hundred years after the office of Jlmplii- polus was first introduced. Diodor. Sicul. 1. xvi, c. 12. also raised money, from the plunder, for carrying on the war. While these matters wore transact- ing, the Carthaginians arrived at Lilybaeum, with seventy thousand land forces, two hundred galleys, and a thousand other vessels, which carried ma- chines of war, chariots, vast quantities of provi- sions, and all other stores; as if they were now determined not to carry on the war by piecemeal, but to drive the Greeks entirely out of Sicily. For their force was sufficient to effect this, even if the Sicilians had been united, and much more so, harassed as they were with mutual animosi- ties. When the Carthaginians, therefore, found that the Sicilian territories were laid waste, they marched, under the command of Asdrubal and Hamilcar, in great fury, against the Corinthians. Information of this being brought directly to Syracuse, the inhabitants were struck with such terror by that prodigious armament, that scarce three thousand, out of ten times that number, took up arms and ventured to follow Timoleon. The mercenaries were in number four thousand, and of them about a thousand gave way to their fears, when upon their march, and turned back, crying out, " That Timoleon must be mad or in his dotage, to go against an army of seventy thousand men, with only five thousand foot and a thousand horse, and to draw his handful of men, too, eight days' march from Syracuse; by which means there could be no refuge for those that fled, nor burial for those that fell in battle." Timoleon considered it as an advantage, that these cowards discovered themselves before the engagement; and having encouraged the rest, he led them hastily to the banks of the Crimesus, where he was told the Carthaginians were drawn together. But as he was ascending a hill, at the top of which the enemy's camp, and all their vast forces would be in sight, he met some mules loaded with parsley ; and his men took it into their heads that it was a bad omen, because we usually crown the sepulchers with parsley, and thence the proverb with respect to one that is dangerously ill, Such a one. has need of nothing but parsley. To deliver them from this superstition and to remove the panic, Timoleon ordered the troops to halt, and making a speech suitable to the occasion, observed among other things, "That crowns were brought them before the victory, and offered themselves of their own accord:" For the Corinthians, from all antiquity, having looked upon a wreath of parsley as sacred, crowned the victors with it at the Isthmean games : in Timoleon's time it was still in use at those games, as it is now at the Nemean, and it is but lately that the pine branch has taken its place. The general having addressed his army, as we have said, took a chaplet of parsley, and crowned himself with it first, and then his officers and the common soldiers did the same. At that instant the soothsayers observing two eagles flying to- ward them, one of which bore a serpent which he had pierced through with his talons, while the other advanced with a loud and animating noise, pointed them out to the army, who all betook themselves to prayer and invocation of the gods. The summer was now begun, and the end of the month Thargel'wn brought on the solstice; the river then sending uo a thick mist, the field was covered with it at firsV, so that nothing in the enemy's camp was discernible, only an inarticu- late and confused noise which reached the sum- mit of the hill, showed that a great army lay at some distance. But when the Corinthians had reached the top, and laid down their shields to 182 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. take breath, the sun had raised the vapors higher,! was impossible for them, encumbered as they were eo that the fog being collected upon the summits,) with arms, to get out of the mire. For the river covered them only, while the places be\ >w were j Crimesus, swollen partly with the rains, and partly all visible. The river Crimesus appeared clearly, ! having its course stopped by the vast numbers and the enemy were seen crossing it, first with chariots drawn by four horses, and formidably provided for the combat ; behind which there inarched ten thousand men with white bucklers. These they conjectured to be Carthaginians, by the brightness of their armor, and the slowness and good order in which they moved. They were followed by the troops of other nations, who advanced in a confused and tumultuous manner that crossed it, had overflowed its banks. The adjacent field, having many cavities and low places in it, was filled with water which settled there, and the Carthaginians falling into them, could not dis- engage themselves without extreme difficulty. In short, the storm continuing to beat upon them with great violence, and the Greeks having cut to pieces four hundred men who composed their first ranks, their whole body was put to flight. Great numbers were overtaken in the field, and put to Timoleon observing that the river put it in hisj the sword; many took the river, and jostling with power to engage with what number of the enemy he pleased, bade his men take notice, how the main body was divided by the stream, part having already got over and part preparing to pass it; and ordered Demaretus with the cavalry to attack the Carthaginians and put them in confusion, before they had time to range themselves in order of battle. Then he himself descending into the plain with the infantry, formed the wings out of other Sicilians, intermingling a few strangers with them; but the natives of Syracuse and the most warlike of the mercenaries ho placed about him- awhile to see the self in the center, and stopped a success of the horse. When h could not come up to gr lo w 't.h the Cartha- ginians, by reason of the chariot* Jiat ran to and those that were yet passing it, were carried down and drowned. The major part, who endeavored to gain the hills, were stopped by the light-armed soldiers, and slain. Among the ten thousand that were killed, it is said there were three thousand natives of Carthage; a heavy loss to that city: for none of its citizens were superior to these, either in birth, fortune or character, nor have we any account that so many Carthaginians ever fell be- fore in one battle; but as they mostly made use of Lybians, Spaniards, and Numidians, in their wars, if they lost a victory, it was at tho expense of the blood of strangers. fro before their army, and that they were obliged often to wheel about to^void the danger of hav- ing their ranks broken, and then to rally again and return to the charge, sometimes here, some- times there, he took his buckler and called to the foot to follow him, and be of good courage, with an accent that seemed more than human, so much was it above his usual pitch; whether it was ex- alted by his ardor and enthusiasm, or whether (as many were of opinion) the voice of some god was joined to his. His troops answering him with a loud shout, and pressing him to lead them on without delay, lie sent orders to the cavalry to get beyond the line of chariots, and take the enemy in flank, while himself thickening his first ranks, so as to join buckler to buckler, and caus- ing the trumpet to sound, bore down upon the Carthaginians. They sustained the first shock with great spirit, for being fortified with breast- plates of iron and helmets of brass, and covering themselves with large shields, they could easily repel the spears and javelins. But when the business came to a decision by the sword, where art is no less requisite than strength, all on a sudden there broke out dreadful thunders from the mountains, mingled with long trails of light- ning; after which the black clouds descending from the tops of the hills, fell upon the two armies in a storm of wind, rain and hail. The tempest was on the backs of the Greeks, but beat upon the faces of the barbarians, and aJmost blinded them with the stormy showers and the fire continually streaming from the clouds. These things very much distressed the barba- rians, particularly such of them as were not vete- rans. The greatest inconvenience seems to have been the roaring of the thunder, and the clatter- ing of the rain and hail upon their arms, which hindered them from hearing the orders of their officers. Beside, the Carthaginians not being light but heavy-armed, as I said, the Girt was trouble- some to them; and, as the bosoms of their tunics were filled with water, they were very unwieldy ill the combat, so that the Greeks could overturn e saw that they The Greeks discovered by the spoils the quality of the killed. Those that stripped the dead set no value upon brass or iron, such was the abundance of silver and gold; for they passed the river, and made themselves masters of the camp and bag- gage. Many of the prisoners were clandestinely sold by the soldiers, but five thousand were de- livered in, upon the public account, and two hundred chariots also were taken. The tent of Timoleon afforded the most beautiful and magni- ficent spectacle. In it were piled all manner of spoils, among which a thousand breast-plates of exquisite workmanship, and ten thousand buck- lers, were exposed to view. As there was but a small number to collect the spoils of such a multi- tude, and they found such immense riches, it was the third day after the battle before they could erect the trophy. With the first news of the vic- tory, Timoleon sent to Corinth the handsomest of the arms he had taken, desirous that the world might admire and emulate his native city, when they saw the fairest temples adorned, not with Grecian spoils, nor with the unpleasing monu- ments of kindred blood and domestic ruin, but with the spoils of barbarians, which bore this honorable inscription, declaring the justice as well as valor of<the conquerors; "That the people of Corinth, and Timoleon their general, having de- livered the Greeks who dwelt in Sicily from the Carthaginian yoke, made this offering, as a grate- ful acknowledgment to the gods." After this, Timoleon left the mercenaries to lay waste the Carthaginian province, and returned to Syracuse. By an edict published there, he banish- ed from Sicily the thousand hired soldiers, who deserted him before the battle, and obliged them to quit Syracuse before the sun set. These wretches passed over into Italy, where they were treache- rously slain by the Brutians. Such was the ven- geance which heaven took of their perfidiousnesa. Nevertheless, Mamercus, prince of Catana, and Icetes, either moved with envy at the success of Timoleon, or dreading him as an implacable enemy who thought no faith was to be kept with tyrants, entered into league with the Carthagi- nians, and desired them to send a new army and general, if they were not willing to lose Sicily them with ease; and when^they were down, it I entirely. Hereupon, Gisco came with a fleet of TIMOLEON. 183 Bv?nty shipw, nnd a body of Greeks whom he had taKen into pay. The Carthaginians had not em- ployed any Greeks before, but now they consider- ed them as the bravest and most invincible of men. On this occasion, the inhabitants of Messeim, rising with one consent, slew four hundred of the foreign soldiers, whom Tirnoleon had sent to their assistance; and within the dependencies of Car- thage, the mercenaries, commanded by Euthymus the Leucadian, were cut off by an ambush at a place called Hierae.* Hence tiie good fortune of Timoleon became still more famous: for these were some of the men who with Philodemus of Phocis and Ouornarchus, had broken into the tem- ple of Apollo at Delpbi, ana were partakers with them in the sacrilege. f Shunned as execrable on this account, they wandered about Peloponnesus, where Timoleon, being in great want of men, took them into pay. When they came into Sicily, they were victorious in all the battles where he commanded in person; but after the great strug- gles of the war were over, being sent upon service where succors were required, they perished by little and little. Herein avenging justice seems to have been willing to make use of the prosperity of Tirnoleou as an apology for its delay, taking care, as it did, that no harm might happen to the good, from the punishment of the wicked; inso- much that the favor of the gods, to that great man, was no less discerned and admired iu his very losses than in his greatest success. Upon any of these little advantages, the tyrants took occasion to ridicule the Syracusans; at which they were highly incensed. Marnercus, for in- stance, who valued himself on his poems and tragedies, talked in a pompous manner of the victory he had gained over the mercenaries, and ordered this insolent inscription to be put upon the shields which he dedicated to the gods, These shields,! with gold and ivory gay, To our plain bucklers lost the day. Afterward, when Timoleon was laying siege to Calauria, Icetes took the opportunity to make an inroad into the territories of Syracuse, where he met with considerable booty; and having made great havoc, he marched back by Calauria itself, in contempt of Timoleon and the slender force he had witli him. Timoleon suffered him to pass, and then followed him with his cavalry and light- armed foot. When Icetes saw he was pursued, he crossed the Damyrias, and stood in a posture to receive the enemy on the other side. What emboldened him to do this, was the cifliculty of (he passage, and the steepness of the banks on both sides. But a strange dispute of jealousy and honor, which arose among the officers of Timo- leon, awhile delayed the combat: for there was not one that was willing to go after another, but every man wanted to be foremost in the attack; so that their fording was likely to be very tumultuous * We do not find there was any place in Sicily culled Hi- ertr, : in all probability, therefore, it should he read, Hiet<e ; for Stephanus de Urbib. mentions a castle in Sicily of that name. tThe sacred war commenced on this occasion. The Anpkictyon^ having condemned the people of Phocis in a heavy fine, (or plundering the country of Cyrrha, which was dedicated to Apollo, and that people he ing unable to pay it, their whole country was judged forfeited to that god. Hereupon Philomelns, not Philodemus, called the people together, and advised them to seize the treasures in the temple of Delphi, to enable them to hire forces to de- fend themselves. This brought on a war that lasted six years, in the course of which most of the sacrilegious per- sons perished miserably. tThey were shields that had been taken out of the tem- ple at Delphi. 4 Or the Lymyna*. and disorderly by their jostling each other, and passing to get before. To remedy this, Timoleon ordered them to decide the matter by lot, and that each for this purpose should give him his ring. He took the rings and shook them in the skirt of his robe, and the first that came up, happening to have a trophy for the seal, the young officers re- ceived it with joy, and crying out, that they would not wait for any other lot, made their way as fast as possible through the river, and fell upon the enemy, who, unable to sustain the shock, soon took to flight, throwing away their arms, and leaving a thousand of their men dead upon the spot. A few days after this, Timoleon marched into the territory of the Leontines, where he took Ice- tes alive; and his son Eupolemus, and Euthymus, his general of horse, were brought to him bound by the soldiers. Icetes and his son were capitally punished, as tyrants and traitors to their country Nor did Eulhymus find mercy, though remark- ably brave and bold in action, because he was accused of a severe sarcasm against the Corin- thians. He had said, it seems, in a speech he made to the Leontines, upon the Corinthians tak- ing the field, " That it was no formidable matter, if the Corinthian dames were gone out to take the air." Thus the generality of men are more apt to resent a contemptuous word than an unjust action, and can bear any other injury better thaa disgrace. Every hostile deed is imputed to the necessity of war, but satirical and censorious ex- pressions are cousideredfas the effects of hatred or malignity.. When Timoleon was returned, the Syracusans brought the wife and daughters of Icetes to a public trial, who, being there condemned to die, were executed accordingly. This seems to be the most exceptionable part of Timoleon's conduct; for, if he had interposed, the women would not have suffered. But he appears to have connived at it, and given them up to the resentment of the peo- ple, who were willing to make some satisfaction to the manes of Dion, who expelled Dionysius. For Icetes was the man who threw Arete, the wife of Dion, his sister Aristomache, and his son, who was yet a child, alive into the sea; as we have re- lated in the Life of Dion.* Timoleon then marched to Catana against Ma- mercus, who waited for him in order of battle upon the banks of the Abolus.f Marnercus was defeated, and put to flight, with the loss of above two thousand men, no small part of which con- sisted of the Punic succors sent by Gisco. Here- upon the Carthaginians desired him to grant them peace; which he did on the following conditions: " That they should hold only the lands within the Lycus;J that they should permit all who desired it, to remove out of their province, with their families and goods, and to settle at Syracuse; and that they should renounce all friendship and alliance with the tyrants." Mamercus, reduced by this treaty to despair, set sail for Italy, with an intent to bring the Lucanians against Timoleon * From this passage, and another before, it seems as if the Life of Dion was written before this. And yet, inth* Life of Dion, Plutarch speaks as if this was written first. For there he says, As we have written in the Life of Tim.O' Icon. In one of them, therefore, if not in both, those refe- rences must have been made by the Librarians, according to the different order in which these lives were placed. t Ptolemy and others call this river Jilabus, Jliabis, or Jll- aboti. It is near Hybla, between Catana and Syracuse. J Plutarch probably took the name of this river as ha found it in Diodorus; but other historians call it the Haly- cus. Indeed, the Carthaginians might possibly give it tha riental aspirate ha, winch signifies no more than the paj tide the. 184 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and the Syracusans. But, instead of that, the crews tacking about with the galleys, and return- ing to Sicily, delivered up Catana to Timoleon; which obliged Mamercus to take refuge at Mes- seua, with Hippo, prince of that city. Timoleon coming upon them, and investing the place both by sea and land, Hippo got on board a ship, and attempted to make his escape, but was taken by the Messenians themselves; who exposed him in the theater; and calling their children out of the schools, as to the finest spectacle in the world, the punishment of a tyrant, they first scourged him, and then put him to death. Upon this, Mamercus surrendered himself to Timoleon, agreeing to take his trial at Syracuse, on condition that Timoleon himself would not be his accuser. Being conducted to Syracuse, and brought before the people, he attempted to pro- nounce an oration which he had composed long before for such an occasion; but being received with noise and clamor, he perceived that the as- sembly were determined to show him no favor. He, therefore, threw off* his upper garment, ran through the theater, and dashed his head violently against one of the steps, with a design to kill him- self; but did not succeed according to his wish, for he was taken up alive, and suffered the punish- ment of thieves and robbers. In this manner did Timoleon extirpate tyranny, and put a period to their wars. He found the whole island turned almost wild and savage with its misfortunes, so thut its very inhabitants could hardly endure it,iind yet he so civilized it again, and rendered it so desirable, that strangers came to settle in the country, from which its own people had lately 'fled; the great cities of Agrigen- tum and Gela, which after the Athenian war had been sacked and left desolate by the Carthaginians, were now peopled again; the former by Megellus and Pheristus from Klea, and the latter by Gorgus from the isle of Ceos, who also collected and brought with him some of the old citizens. Timo- leon not only assured them of his protection, and of peaceful days to settle in, after the tempests of such a war, but cordially entered into their neces- sities, and supplied them with everything, so that he was even beloved by them as if he had been their founder. Nay, to that degree did he enjoy the affections of the Sicilians in general, that no war seemed concluded, no laws enacted, no lands divided, no political regulation made, in a proper manner, except it was revised and touched by him: lie was the master-builder who put the last hand to the work, and bestowed upon it a happy ele- gance and perfection. Though at that time Greece boasted a number of great men, whose achievements were highly distinguished, Timo- theus (for instance) Agesilaus, Pelopidas and Eparn- inondas, the last of whom Timoleon principally yied with in the course of glory, yet we may dis- cern in their actions a certain labor and straining, which diminishes their luster, and some of them have afforded room for censure, and been followed with repentance; whereas there is not one action of Timoleon (if we except the extremities he pro- ceeded to in the case of his brother) to which we muy not, with Timaeus,apply that passage of So- phocles, What Fenw.*, or what L<rve ? Placed the fair parts in this harmonious whole, For, as the poetry of Antimachus* and the por- * Antimachus was an epic poet, who flourished in the days of Socrates and Plato. He wrote a poem called the Thcbald. Quintilian (x. i.) says, he had a force and solid- ity, together with an elevation of style, and had the sec- oud plane given him bv the grammarians, after Homer; but traits of Dionysius,* both of them Colophonianrf, with all the nerve and strength one finds in them, appear to be too much labored, and smell too much of the lamp; whereas the paintings of Ni- comachusf and the verses of Homer, beside their other excellencies and graces, seem to have been struck oft with readiness and ease: so if we com- pare the exploits of Epaminondas and Agesilaus, performed with infinite pains and difficulty, with those of Timoleon, which, glorious as they were ; had a great deal of freedom and ease in them, when we consider the case well, we shall conclude the latter, not to have been the work of fortune in- deed, but the effects of fortunate virtue. He himself, it .is true, ascribed all his successes to fortune. For when he wrote to his friends at Co- rinth, or addressed the Syracusans, he often said, he was highly indebted to that goddess, when she was resolved to save Sicily, for doing it u nder his name,. In his house he built a chapel, and offered sacrifices to Chance,* and dedicated the house itself to For" tune; for the Syracusans had given him one of the best houses in the city, as a reward for his services, and provided him, beside, a very elegant and agreeable retreat in the country. In th country it was that he spent most of his time, with his wife and children, whom he had sent for from Corinth: for he never returned home; he took no part in the troubles of Greece, nor exposed him- self to public envy, the rock which great generals commonly split upon in their insatiable pursuits of honor and power; but he remained in Sicily, enjoying the blessings he had established; and of which the greatest of all was, to see so many cities and so many thousands of people happy through his means. But since, according to the comparison of Sim- onides, every republic must have some impudent slanderer, just as every lark must have a crest on its head, so it was at Syracuse; for Timoleon was attacked by two demagogues, Laphystius and Demnsnetus. The first of these having demanded of him sureties that he would answer to an in- dictment which was to be brought against him, the people began to rise declaring they would not suffer him to proceed. But Timoleon stilled the tumult, by representing, "That he had voluntarily undergone so many labors and dangers, on pur- pose that the meanest Syracusan might have re- course, when he pleased, to the laws." And when Demujnetus, in full assembly, alleged many articles against his behavior in command, he did not vouchsafe him any answer; he only said, "He could not sufficiently express his gratitude to the gods, for granting his request, in permitting him to see all the Syracusans enjoy the liberty of eay- ing what they thought fit." Having then confessedly performed greater things than any Grecian of his time, and been the only man that realized those glorious achievements, as he failed in the passions, in the disposition of his fable, and in the ease and elegance of manner, though lie wa second, he was far from coming near the first. PAULUSjEMILILJS. which the orators of Greece were constantly exhorting their countrymen in the general assem- blies of the states, fortune happily placed him at a distance from the calamities in which the mother- country was involved, and kept his hands unstained With its blood. He made his courage and conduct appear in his dealings with the barbarians and with tyrants, as well as his justice and moderation wherever the Greeks or their friends were con- cerned. Very few of his trophies cost his fellow- citizens a tear, or put any of them in mourning; and yet, in less than eight years, he delivered Si- cily from its intestine miseries and distempers, and restored it to the native inhabitants. After so much prosperity, when he was well advanced in years, his eyes began to fail him, and the defect increased so fast, that he entirely lost his sight. Not that he had done anything to oc- casion it, nor was it to be imputed to the caprice of fortune,* but it seems to have been owing to a family weakness and disorder, which operated to- gether with the course of time. For several of his relations are said to have lost their sight in the same manner, having it gradually impaired by years. But Athanis tells us, notwithstanding, that during the war with Hippo and Mamercus, and while he lay before Millar, a white speck appeared on his eye, which was a plain indication that blindness was coming on. However, this did not hinder him from continuing the siege, and prose- cuting the war, until he got the tyrants in his power. But, when he was returned to Syracuse, he laid down the command immediately, and ex- cused himself to the people from any farther ser- vice, as he had brought their affairs to a happy conclusion. It is not to be wondered, that he bore his mis- fortune without repining; but it was really ad- mirable to observe the honor and respect which the Syracusans paid him when blind. They not only visited him constantly themselves, but brought all strangers who spent some lime among them to his house jjn the town, or to that in the country, that they too might have the pleasure of seeing the deliverer of Syracuse. And it was their joy and their pride that he chose to spend his days with them, and despised the splendid reception which Greece was prepared to give him, on ac- count of his great success. Among the many votes that were passed, and things that were done in honor of him, one of the most striking was that decree of the people of Syracuse, "That whenever they should be at war with a foreign nation, they would employ a Corinthian general." Their 185 method of proceeding, too, in their assemblies did honor to Timoleon. For they decided smaller mutters by themselves, but consulted him in the more difficult and important cases. On these oc- casions he was conveyed in a litter through the market-place to the theater; and when he was carried in, the people saluted him witli one voice, as he sat. He returned the civility; and having paused awhile to give time for their acclamations, took cognizance of the affair, and delivered his opinion. The assembly gave their sanction to it, and then his servants carried the litter back through the theater; and the people, having waited on him out with loud applauses, dispatched the rest of the public business without him. With so much respect and kindness was the old age of Timoleon cherished, as that of a common father! and at last he died of a slight illness co-op- erating with length of years.* {Some time being given the Syracusans to prepare for his funeral, and for the neighboring inhabitants and strangers to assemble, the whole was conducted with great magnificence. The bier, sumptuously adorned, was carried by young men, selected by the people, over the ground where the palace and castle of the tyrants stood, before they were demolished. It was followed by many thousands of men and wo- men, in the most pompous solemnity, crowned with garlands and clothed in white. The lamen- tations and tears, mingled with the praises of the deceased, showed that the honor now paid him wa8 not a matter of course, or compliance with a duty enjoined, but the testimoiry of real sorrow and sin- cere affection. At last, the bier being placed upon the funeral pile, Demetrius, who had the loudest voice of all their heralds, was directed to make proclamation as follows: "The people of Syracuse inter Timoleon the Corinthian, the son of Timo- demus, at the expense of two hundred mince: they honor him, moreover, through all time with an- nual games, to be celebrated with performances in music, horse-racing, and wrestling; as the man who destroyed tyrants, subdued barbarians, re- peopled great cities which lay desolate, and re- stored to the Sicilians their laws and privileges." The body was interred, and a monument erected for him in the market place, which they afterward surrounded with porticos and other buildings suit- able to the purpose, and then made it a place of exercise for their youth, under the name of Timo- leonteum. They continued to make use of the form of government and the laws that he estab- | lished, and this insured their happiness for a long course of years.f PAULUS EMILIUS. WHEN I first applied myself to the writing of these Lives, it was for the sake of others, but 1 pursue that study for my own sake ; availing my- self of history as of a mirror, from which I learn to adjust and regulate my own conduct. For it is like living and conversing with these illustrious men, when I invite, as it were, and re- ceive them, one after another, under my roof : * Plutarch here hints at an opinion which was very pre- Talent among the Pagans, that if any person was signally favored with success, there would some misfortune happen to counterbalance it. This they imputed to the envy of ome malignant demon. when I consider how great and wonderful they were, and select from their actions the most mem- orable and glorious. Ye gods! what greater pleasure? What happier road to virtue? Democritus has a position in his philosophy,i * He died the last year of the hundred and tenth Olym- piad, three hundred and thirty-five years before the Chris tian era. tThis prosperity was interrupted about thirty years afteri by the cruelties of Agathocles. t Democritus held, that visible objects produced thrif Image in the ambient air, which image produced a second 186 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. utterly false indeed, and leading to endless super- stitions, that there are phantasms or images con- tinually floating in the air, some propitious, and some unlucky, and advises us to pray, that such, may strike upon our senses, as are agreeable to, and perfective of, our nature, and not such as have a tendency to vice and error. For my part, instead of this, I fill my mind with the sublime images of the best and greatest men, by attention to history and biography; and if I contract any blemish or ill custom from other company which I am unavoidably engaged in, I correct and ex- pel them, by calmly and dispassionately turning my thoughts to these excellent examples. For the same purpose, I now put into your hands the Life of 'I imoleon, the Corinthian, and that of ^Emilius Paulus, men famous not only for their virtues, but their success; insomuch that they have left room to doubt, whether their great achievements were not owing more to their good fortune than their prudence. Most writers agree, that the ^Emilian family was one of the most ancient among the Roman nobility; and it is asserted, that the founder of it, who also left it his surname, was Mamercus* the eon of Pythagoras the philosopher,! who, for the peculiar charms and gracefulness of his elocution, was called ^Emilius ; such, at least, is the opin- ion of those who say that Nurna was educated un- der Pythagoras. Those of this family that distinguished them- selves,* found their attachment to virtue general- ly blessed with success. And notwithstanding the ill fortune of Lucius Paulus at Cannae, he showed on that occasion both his prudence and his valor. For, when he could not dissuade his colleague from fighting, he joined him in the combat, though much against his will, but did not partake with him in his flight : on the contra- ry, when he who plunged them into danger, de- serted the field, Paulus stood his ground, and fell bravely amidst the enemy, with his sword in his hand. This Paulus had a daughter named .-Emilia, who was married to Scipio the Great, and a son called Paulus, whose history I am now writing. At the time he made his appearance in the world, Rome abounded in men who were celebrat- ed for their virtues and other excellent accomplish- ments ; and even among these ^Emilius made a distinguished figure, without pursuing the same studies, or setting out in the same track, with the young nobility of that age. For he did not ex- ercise himself in pleading causes ; nor could he stoop to salute, to solicit, and caress the people, which was the method that most men took who aimed at popularity. Not but that he had talents from nature to acquit himself well in either ol these respects, but he reckoned the honor that and the second a third still less than the former, and so on tintil the last produced its counterpart in the eye. This he supposed the process of the act of vision. But. he went on to what is infinitely more absurd. He maintained that thought was formed, according as those images struck upon the imagination; that of these there were some good and some evil; that the good produced virtuous thoughts in us, and the evil the contrary. * See the life of Nuina. t.He is called Pythagoras the philosopher, to distinguish him from Pythagoras the famed wrestler. J From Lucius /Krnilius, who was consul in the year of Rome two hundred and seventy, and overcame the Vol- scians, to Lucius Paulus, who was father to Paulus ^Emilius, and who fell at Cannse, in the year of Rome five hundred and thirty-seven, there were many of those ^Emilii re- nowned for their victories and triumphs. } In that period we find the Sempronii, the Albini, the Fabii Maximi, the Marcelli, the Scipios, the Fulvii, Sulpitii, Cethegi, Mete Hi, and other great and excellent men. flows from valor, from justice, and probity, pre- ferable to both ; and in these virtues he soon sur- passed all the young men of his time. The first of the great offices of state for which he was a candidate, was that of Mdile, and he carried it against twelve competitors, who, we are told, were all afterward consuls. And when he was appointed one of the Augurs, whom the Romans employ in the inspection and care of di- vination by the flight of birds, and by prodigies in the air, he studied so attentively the usages of his country, and acquainted himself so perfectly with the ancient ceremonies of religion, that what before was only considered as an honor, and sought for on account of the authority annexed to it,* appeared in his hands to be one of the principal arts. Thus, he confirmed the defini- tion which is given by some philosophers, Thai religion is the science of worshiping the gods. He did everything with skill and application ; he laid aside all other concerns while he attended to this, and made not the least omission or innovation, but disputed with his colleagues about the small- est article, and insisted, that though the Deity might be supposed to be merciful, and willing to overlook some neglect, yet it was dangerous for the state to connive at and pass by such things. For no man ever began his attempts against govern- ment with an enormous crime ; and the relaxing in the smallest matters, breaks down the fences of ih greatest. Nor was he less exact in requiring and obser- ving the Roman military discipline. He did not study to be popular in command, nor endeavor, like the generality, to make one commission the foundation for another, by humoring and indulg- ing the soldiery :f but as a priest instructs the in- itiated with care in the sacred ceremonies, so he explained to those that were under him the rules and customs of war ; and being inexorable at the same time, to those that transgressed them, here-established his country in its former glory- Indeed, with him, the beating of an enemy was a matter of much less account, than the bringing of his countrymen to strict discipline ; the one seeming to be the necessary consequence of the other. During the war which the Romans were jen- gaged in with Antiochus the Great,^ in the east, anu in which their most experienced officers were employed, another broke out in the west There was a general revolt in Spain ;|| and thith- er jEmilius was sent, not with six lictors only, like other prators, but with twice the number, which seemed to raise his dignity to an equality with tl>3 consular. He beat the barbarians in two pitched battles,TT and killed thirty thousand of them : which success appears to have been owing to his generalship in choosing his ground, and attacking the enemy while they were passing a river ; for by these means his army gained an * Under pretense that the auspices were favorable o otherwise, the Augurs had it in their power to promote of put a stop to any public affair whatever. t The Roman soldiers were, at the same time, citizens, who had votes for the great employments, both civil and military. J The war with Antiochus the Gre t, king of Syria, began about the year of Rome five hundred and sixty-one, twenty- four years after the battle of Carmce. The consul Glabrio, and after him the two Scipios; the elder of whom was content to serve as a lieutenant undej his brother. Liv. 1. xxxvii. II Spain had been reduced by Seipio Nas:ca. IT Livy, xxxvii. 57, speaks only of one battle, in which Paulus yEmilius forced the intrenchments of the Spaniards, killed eighteen thousand of them, and made three hundred prisoners. P AU LUS ^EMILIUS. 1S7 osy victory He made himself master of two hundred and nfty cities, which voluntarily open- ed their gates ; and having established peace throughout the province, and secured its alle- giance, he returned to Rome, not a drachma rich- er than he went out. He never, indeed, was de- eirous to enrich himself, but lived in a generous manner on his own estate, which was so far from tHng large, that after his death, it was hardly suf- ficient to answer his wife's dowry. His first wife was Papiria, the daughter of Pa- pirius Maso, a man of consular dignity. After he hud lived with her a long time in wedlock he divorced her, though she had brought him very fine children; for she was mother to the illustrious Scipioand to Fabius Maximus. History does not acquaint us with the reason of this separation ; but with respect to divorces in general, the ac- count which a certain Roman, who put away his wife, gave of his own case, seems to be a just one. When his friends remonstrated, and asked him, Was she not chaste? Was she not fair? Was she not fruitful? he held out his shoe, and said, Is it not handsome? Is it not new? yet none knows where it wrings him, but he that wears it. Certain it is, that men usually repudiate their wives for great and visible faults ; yet sometimes also a pee- vishness of temper or incompliance of manners, small and frequent distastes, though not discern- ed by the world, produce the most incurable aver- sions in a married life.* jEmilius thus separated from Papiria, married a second wife, by whom he had also two sons. These he brought up in his own house : the sons of Papiria being adopted into the greatest and most noble families in Rome, the elder by Fabius Maximus, who was five times consul, and the younger by his cousin-german, the son of Scipio Africanus, who gave him the name of Scipio One of his daughters was married to the son of Cato, and the other to .^Elius Tubero, a man of su- perior integrity, and who, of all the Romans, knew best how to bear poverty. There was no less than sixteen of the ^Elian family and name, who had only a small house and one farm among them ; and in this house they all lived, with their wives and many children. Here dwelt the daugh- ter-of ^Ernilius, who had been twice consul, and had triumphed twice, not ashamed of her hus- band's poverty, but admiring that virtue which * The very ingenious Dr. Robertson mentions this fre- quency of divorces as one of the necessary reasons for in- trodocing the Christian religion at that period of time when it was published to the worM. "Divorces," says he, "on very slight pretensions, were permitted both by the Greek and Roman legislators. And though the pure manners of those republics restrained for some time the operation of guch a pernicious institution; though the virtue of private persons seldom ' abused the indulgence that the legislature allowed them, yet, no sooner had the establishment of arbi- trary power and the progress of luxury vitiated the taste of men, than the law with regard to divorces was found to be among the wor.st corruptions that prevailed in that aban- doned age. The facility of separations rendered married persons careless of practicing or obtaining those virtues which tender domestic life easy and delightful. The edu- cation of their children, as the parents were not mutually endeared, or inseparably connected, was generally disre- garded, as each parent considered it but a partial care, which might with equal justice devolve on the other. Mar- riage, instead of restraining, added to the violence of ir- regular desire, and under a legal title became the vilest and most shameless prostitution. From all these causes, the marriage state fell into disreputation and contempt, and it became necessary to force men by penal laws into a society, where they expected no secure or lasting happiness. Among the Romans, domestic corruption grew of a sudden to an incredible hijht. And, perhaps, in the history ol'mankind, we can find no parallel to the undisguised impurity and licentiousness of that ape. It was in good time, therefore, &c., &c " kept him poor. Very different is the behavior of brothers and other near relations in these days ; who, if their possessions be not separated by extensive countries, or at least rivers and bul- warks, are perpetually at variance about them So much instruction does history suggest to the consideration of those who are willing to profit by it. When ^Emilius was created consul,* he went upon an expedition against the Ligurians, whose country lies at the foot of the Alps, and who are also called Ligustines : a bold and martial peo- ple that learned the art of war of the Romans, by means of their vicinity. For they dwelt in the extremities of Italy, bordering upon that part of the Alps which is washed by the Tuscan sea, just opposite to Africa, and were mixed with the Gauls and Spaniards, who inhabited the coast. At that time they had likewise some strength at sea, and their corsairs plundered and destroyed the merchant ships as far as the pillars of Hercu- les. They had an army of forty thousand men to receive ^Ernilius, who came with but eight thousand at the most. He engaged them, how- ever, though five times his number, routed them entirely, and shut them up within their walled towns. When they were in these circum- stances, he offered them reasonable and moderate terms. For the Romans did not choose utterly to cut off the people of Liguria, whom they con- sidered as a bulwark against the Gauls, who were always hovering over Italy. The Ligurians, con- fiding in jEmilius, delivered up their ships and their towns. He only razed the fortifications, and then delivered the cities to them again : but he carried off their shipping, leaving them not a ves- sel bigger than those with three banks of oars ; and he set at liberty a number of prisoners whom they had made both at sea and land, as well Ro- mans as strangers. Such were the memorable actions of his first consulship. After which he often expressed his desire of being appointed again to the same high office, and even stood candidate for it; but, meet- ing with a repulse, he solicited it no more. In- stead of that, he applied himself to the discharge of his function as augur, and to the education of his sons, not only in such arts as had been taught in Rome, and those that he had learned himself, but also in the genteeler arts of Greece. To this purpose he not only entertained masters who could teach them grammar, logic and rhetoric, but sculpture also, and painting, together with such as were skilled in breaking and teaching horses and dogs, and were to instruct them in riding and hunting, when no public affairs hindered him, he himself always attended their studies and exercises. In short, he was the most indulgent parent in Rome. As to the public affairs, the Romans were then engaged iu a war with Perse us,f king of the Ma- cedonians, and they imputed it either to the inca- pacity or cowardice of their generals J that the advantage was on the enemy's side. For they who had forced Antiochus the Great to quit the rest of Asia, driven him beyond mount Taurus, confined him to Syria, and made him think him- self happy if he could purchase his peace with * It was in the year following that he went against the Ligurians. f This second Macedonian war with Perseus began in the year of Rome five hundred and eighty-two, a hundred and sixty-nine years before the Christian era. t Those generals were P. Licinius Crassus, after him A Hostilius Mancinus, and then (1. Martius Philippus, who dragged the war heavily on during the three yea/ of tUit consulship. $ Seventeen years before. 188 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. fifteen thousand talents;* they who had lately vanquished king Philip in Thessaly,f and deliver- ed the Greeks from the Macedonian yoke; in short, they who had subdued Hannibal, to whom no king could be compared either for valor or power, thought it an intolerable thing to be ob- liged to contend with Perseus upon equal terms, as if he could be an adversary able to cope with them, who only brought into the field the poor remains of his father's routed forces. In this, however, the Romans were deceived; for they knew not that Philip, after his defeat, had raised a much more numerous and better disciplined army, than he had before. It may not be amiss to ex- plain this in a few words, beginning at the foun- tain-head. Antigonus,}: the most powerful among the generals and successors of Alexander, having gained for himself and his descendants the title of king, had a son named Demetrius, who was father to Antigonus, surnamed Gonatus. Gonatus had a son named Demetrius, who, after a short reign left a young son called Philip. The Macedonian nobility, dreading the confusion often consequent upon a minority, set up Antigonus, cousin to the deceased king, and gave him his widow, the mother of Philip, to wile. At first they made him only regent and general, but afterward find- ing that he was a moderate and public spirited man, they declared him king. He it was that had the name of Doson, because he was always pro- mising, but never performed what he promised. After him, Philip mounted the throne, and though yet but a youth, soon showed himself equal to the greatest of kings, so that it was believed that he would restore the crown of Macedon to its ancient dignity, and be the only man that could stop the progress of the Roman power which was now extending itself ov^r all the world But being beaten at Scotusa by Titus Flaminius, his courage sunk for the present, and promising to receive such terms as the Romans should impose, he was glad to come off with a moderate fine. But re- collecting himself afterward, he could not brook the dishonor. To reign by the courtesy of the Romans, appeared to him more suitable to a slave, who minds nothing but his pleasures, than to a man who has any dignity of sentiment, and there- fore he turned his thoughts to war, but made his preparations with great privacy and caution. For suffering the towns that \y,ere near the great roads and by the sea, to run to decay, and to become half desolate, in order that he might be held in contempt by the enemy, he collected a great force in the higher provinces; and filling the inland places, the towns, and castles, with arms, money, and men, fit for service, without making any show of war, he had his troops always in readi- ness for it, like so many wrestlers trained and exercised in secret. For he had in his arsenal arms for thirty thousand men, in his garrisons, eight millions of measures of wheat, and money in his coffers to defray the charge of maintaining ten thousand mercenaries for ten years to defend his country. But he had not the satisfaction of Livy says twelve thousand, which were lo be paid in twelve years, by a thousand talents a year. t This service was performed by Q.u'intus Flaminius, who defeated Philip in Thessaly, killed eight thousand of his men upon the spot, took rive thousand prisoners, and after his victory, caused proclamation to be made by a herald, at the Istiimean games, that Greece was free. J This Antigonus killed Eumenes, and took Babylon from Seleucus; and when his son Demetrius had over- thrown Ptolemy's fleet at Cyprus, he, the first of all Alex- ander's successors, presumed to wear a diadem, and as- sumed the title of king. J Doson signifies will give. [putting these designs in execution, for he died of j grief and a broken heart, on discovering that he had unjustly put Demetrius, his more worthy son to death,* in consequence of an accusation pre- ferred by his other son, Perseus. Perseus, who survived him, inherited together with the crown, his father's enmity to the Ro- mans; but he was not equal to such a burden, on account of the littleness of his capacity and the meanness of his manners: avarice being the prin- cipal of the many passions that reigned in his dis- tempered heart. It is even said, that he was not the son of Philip, but that the wife of that prince took him, as soon as he was born, from his mother, who was a seamstress of Argos, named Gnatbasnia, and passed him upon her husband as her own. And the chief reason of his compassing the death of his brother seemed to have been his fear that the royal house, having a lawful heir, might prove him to be supposititious. But though he was of such an abject and ungenerous disposition, yet, elated with the prosperous situation of his affairs, he engaged in war with the Romans, and maintained the conflict a long while, repulsing several of their fleets and armies, commanded by men of consular dignity, and even beating some of them. Publius Licinius was the first lhat in- vaded Macedonia, and him he defeated in an en- gagement of the cavalry.f killed two thousand five hundred of his best men, and took six hun- dred prisoners. He surprised the Roman fleet which lay at anchor at Ormeum, took twenty of their storeships, sunk the rest that were loaded with wheat, and made himself master, beside, of four galleys which had each five benches of oars. He fought also another battle, by which he drove back the consul Hostilius, who was attempting to enter his kingdom by Elimia; and when the same general was stealing in by the way of Thessaly, he presented himself before him but the Roman did not choose to stand the encounter. And as if this war did not sufficiently employ him, or the Romans alone were not an enemy respectable enough, he went upon an expedition against the Dardanians, in which he cut in pieces ten thou- sand of them, and brought off much booty. At the same time he privately solicited the Gauls, who dwell near the Danube, and who are called Bas- tarna3. These were a warlike people, and strong in cavalry. He tried the Illyrians too, hoping to bring them to join him by means of Gentius their king.; and it was reported that the barbarians had taken his money, under promise of making an in- road into Italy, by the Lower Gaul, along the coast of the Adriatic.* When this news was brought to Rome, the peo- ple thought proper to lay aside all regard to interest and solicitation in the choice of their generals, and to call to the command a man of understanding, fit for the direction of great affairst Such was Paulus J^milius, a man advanced in * This story is finely embellished in Dr. Young's tragedy of The Brothers. t Livy has given us a description of this action at thre end of his forty-second book. Perseus offered peace to those he had beaten upon as easy conditions as if he him- self had been overthrown, but the Romans refused it; they made it a rule, indeed, never to make peace when beaten. The rule proved a wise one for that people, but can never be universally adopted. J He practiced also with Eumenes king of Bithynia, and caused representations to be made to Antiochus king of Syria, that the Romans were equally enemies to all kin<fs; but Eumenes demanding fifteen hundred talents, a stop was put to the negotiation. The very treating, however, with Perseus, occasioned an inveterate hatred between the Ro mans and their old friend Eumenes; but that hatrec' was of no service to Perseus. PAULUS } years indeed (for he was about three-score), but still in his full strength, and surrounded with young sons, and sons-in-law, and a number of other considerable relations and friends, who all per- suaded him to listen to the people, that called him to the consulship. At first he received the offer of the citizens very coldly, though they went so far as to court and even to entreat him; for he was now no longer ambitious of that honor; but as they daily attended at hi:? gate and loudly called upon him to make his appearance in the forum, he was at length prevailed upon. When he put himself among the candidates, he looked not like a man who sued for the consulship, but as one who brought success along with him: and when, at the request of the citizens, he went down into the Campus Martius, they all received him with so entire a confidence and such a cordial regard, that upon their creating him consul the second time, they would not suffer the lots to be cast for the provinces,* as usual, but voted him imme- diately the direction of the war in Macedonia. It is said, that after the people had appointed him commander-in-chief against Perseus, and conduct- ed him home in a very splendid manner, he found his daughter Tertia, who was yet but a child, in tears. Upon this he took her in his arms, and asked her " Why she wept?" The girl, embrac- ing and kissing him, said, "Know you not then, father, that Perseus is dead?" meaning a little dog of that name, which she had brought up. To which ^Emilius replied, <; 'Tis a lucky incident, child, I accept the omen." This particular is re- lated by Cicero, in his Treatise on Divination. It was the custom for those that were appointed to the consulship, to make their acknowledgments to the people in an agreeable speech from the rostrum. TEmilius having assembled the citizens on this occasion, told them, " He had applied for his former consulship, because he wanted a com- mand; but in this, they had applied to him, be- cause they wanted a commander- and therefore, at present, he did not hold himself obliged to them. If they could have the war better directed by another, he would readily quit the employ- ment; but if they placed their confidence in him, he expected they would not interfere with his orders, or propagate idle reports, but provide in silence what was necessary for the war: for, if they wanted to command their commanders, their expeditions would be more ridiculous than ever." li is not easy to express how much reverence this speech procured him from the citizens, and what high expectations it produced of the event. They rejoiced that they had passed by the smooth- tongued candidates, and made choice of a general who had so much freedom of speech and such dignity of manner. Thus the Romans submitted, like servants, to reason and virtue, in order that they might one day rule, and become masters of the world. That Paulus j5Smi!ius, when he went upon the Macedonian expedition, had a prosperous voyage and journey, and arrived with speed and safety in the camp, I impute to his good fortune; but when 1 consider how the war was conducted, and see that the greatness of his courage, the excel- lence of his counsels, the attachment of his friends, his presence of mind, and happiness in expedi- ents in times of danger, all contributed to his success, I cannot place his great and distinguished actions to any account but his own. Indeed, the avarice of Perseus may possibly be looked upon as a fortunate circumstance, for ./Emilius; since it * Livy says the contrary. Ml T T TT Q 1 Qt\ 1 L I U S. 18JJ blasted and ruined the great preparations and elevated hopes of the Macedonians, by a mean regard to money. For the Bastarna) came at his request, with a body of ten thousand horse,* each of whicu had a foot soldier by his side, and they all fought for hire; men they were that knew not how to till the ground, to feed cattle or to navi- gate ships, but whose sole profession and employ- ment was to fight and to conquer. When these pitched their tents iu Medica, and mingled with the king's forces, who beheld them tall in their persons, ready beyond expression at their exer- cise, lofty and full of menaces against the enemy, the Macedonians were inspired with fresh courage, and a strong opinion, that the Romans would not be able to stand against these mercenaries, but be terrified both at their looks, and at their strange and astonishing motions. After Perseus had filled his people with such spirits and hopes, the barbarians demanded of him a thousand pieces of gold for every officer; but the thoughts of parting with such a sum almost turned his brain, and in the narrowness of his heart he refused it, and broke off the alliance; as if he had not been at war with the Romans, but a steward for them, who was to give an exact account of his whole expenses to those whom he was acting against. At the same tirnef the ex- ample of the enemy pointed out to him better things, for, beside their other preparations, they had a hundred thousand men collected and ready for their use : and yet he having to oppose so considerable a force, and an armament that was maintained at such an extraordinary expense, counted his gold and sealed his bags, as much afraid to touch them as if they had belonged to another. And yet he was not descended from any Lydian or Phoenician merchant, but allied to Alexander and Philip, whose maxim it was to pro- cure empire with money, and not money by empire, and who, by pursuing that maxim, conquered the world. For it was a common saying, " That it was not Philip, but Philip's gold, that took the cities of Greece." As for Alexander, when he went upon the Indian expedition, and saw the Macedonians dragging after them a heavy and unwieldly load of Persian wealth, he first set fire to the royal carriages, and then persuaded the rest to do the same to theirs, that they might move forward to the war, light and unencumber- ed. Whereas Perseus, though he and his children and his kingdom, overflowed with wealth, would * Livy (xliv. 26.) has well described this horseman and his foot soldier. He says, "There came ten thousand horse, and as many foot, who kept, pace with the horse, and when any of the cavalry were unhorsed they mounted, and went into the ranks."" They were the same people with those described by Casar, in the first book of his Commen- taries, where he is giving an account of Ariovistus'.s army. As soon as Perseus had intelligence of the approach of the Basta'nae, he sent Antigonus to congratulate Clondicns their king. Clondicus made answer, that the Gauls could not march a step farther without money; which Perseus, iu his avnrice and ill policy, refused to advance. t We agree with the editor of the former English trans- lation, that the original here is extremely corrupted, and very difficult to be restored; and that it seems improbable that the Romans should have an army of a hundred thou- sand men in Macedonia. But the improbability lessens, if we consider that Paulus ^Emilius applied on this occasion to the allies, especially the Achaans, for what forces they could spare, and if we take in those that acted on the Ro- man fleet. ^Emilius, indeed, just before the battle, ex- presses his apprehensions from the enemy's superiority of I numbers; and it is true that he had none lo depend upon | but the Romans, who were comparatively few. As for his j Grecian allies, he could not place much confidence in them, I becnnse it was their interest that the kingdom of Macedon ! should stand; and, in fact, when th;it fell, severe tribunal* were set up in Greece, and the shadow of liberty, which I remained to it, was Jol. 190 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. not purchase his preservation at the expense of a Email part of it, but was carried a wealthy cap- tive to Rome, and showed that people what im- mense sums he had saved and laid up for them. Nay, he not only deceived and sent away the Gauls, but also imposed upon Gentius, king of the Illyrians, whom he prevailed with to join him, in consideration of a subsidy of three hundred talents. He went so far as to order the money to be counted before that prince's envoys, and suffered them to put their seal upon it. Gentius, thinking his demands were, answered, in violation of all the laws of honor and justice, seized and impris- oned the Roman ambassadors who were at his court. Perseus now concluded that there was no need of money to draw his ally into the war, since he had unavoidably plunged himself into it, by an open instance of violence, and an act of hos- tility which would admit of no excuse, and there- for-? he defrauded the unhappy man of the three hundred talents, and without the least concern be- held him, his wife and children, in a short time after, dragged from their kingdom, by the praetor Lucius Anicus, who was sent at the head of an army against Gentius. jEmilius, having to do with such an adversary as Perseus, despised, indeed, the man, yet could not but admire his preparations and his strength. For he had four thousand horse, and near forty thousand foot, who composed the phalanx: and being encamped by the sea-side, at the foot of Mount Olympus, in a place that was perfectly inaccessible, and strengthened on every side with fortifications of wood, he lay free from all appre- hensions, persuaded that he should wear out the consul by protracting the time and exhausting his treasures. But JSmilius, always vigilant and at- tentive, weighed every expedient and method of attack; and perceiving that the soldiers, through the want of discipline, iu time past, were impa- tient of delay, and ready to dictate to their gene- ral things impossible to be executed, he reproved them with great severity, ordering them not to intermeddle, or give attention to anything but their own persons and their arms, that they might be in readiness to use their swords as became Ro- mans, when their commander should give them an opportunity. He ordered also the sentinels to keep watch without their pikes,* that they might guard the better against sleep, when they were sensible they had nothing to defend themselves with against the enemy, who might attack them in the night. But his men complained the most of want of water; for only a little, and that but indifferent, flowed, or rather came drop by drop, from some springs near the sea. In this extremity, JEmi- Hus, seeing Mount Olympus before him, very high and covered with trees, conjectured, from their verdure, that tliere must be springs in it which would discharge themselves at the bottom, and therefore caused several pits and wells to be dug at the foot of it. These were soon filled with clear water, which ran into them with the greater force and rapidity, because it had been confined before.. Some, however, deny that there are any hidden sources constantly provided with water in the places from which it flows; nor will they allow the discharge to be owing to the opening of a * Livy says, withrntt their shields; the reason of which was this, the Roman shields being long, they might rest their heads upon them, and sleep standing. /Emilius, however, made one order in favor of the soldiers upon juanl; for he ordered them to be relieved at noon, whereas they use d to be upon duty all day. vein; but they will have it, that the watei is formed instantaneously, from the condensation of vapors, and that by the coldness and pressure of the earth, a moist vapor is rendered fluid. For, as the breasts of women are not, like vessels stored with milk, always ready to flow, but pre- pare and change the nutriment that is in them into milk; so the cold and springy places of the ground have not a quantity of water hid within them, which, as from reservoirs always full, can be sufficient to supply large streams and rivers; but by compressing and condensing the vapors and the air, they convert them into water. And such places being opened, afford that element freely, just as the breasts of women do rnilk from their being suckled, by compressing and liquefy- ing the vapor ; whereas the earth that remains idle and undug cannot produce any water, because it wants that motion which alone is the true cause of it. But those that teach this doctrine, give occa- sion to the skeptical to observe, that by a parity of reason there is no blood in animals, but that the wound produces it, by a change in the flesh and spirits, which that impression renders fluid. Beside, that doctrine is refuted by those who, dig- ging deep into the earth to undermine some forti- fications, or to search for metals, meet with deep rivers, not collected by little and little, which would be the case, if they were produced at the instant the earth was opened, but rushing upon them at once in great abundance. And it often happens upon the breaking of a great rock, that a quantity of water issues out which as suddenly ceases. So much for springs. jEmilius sat still for some days, and it is said that there never were two great armies so near each other, that remained so quiet. But, trying and considering everything, he got information that there was one way only, left unguarded, which lay through Perrhaebia, by Pythiurn and Petra; and conceiving greater hope from the de- fenseless condition of the place, than fear from its rugged and difficult appearance, he ordered the matter to be considered in council. Scipio, surnarned Nasica, son-in-law to Se.ipio Africanus, who afterward was a leading man in the senate, was the first that offered to head the troops in taking this circuit to come at the ene- my. And after him, Fabius Maximus, the eldest son of JEmilius, though he was yet but a youtli, expressed his readiness to undertake the enter- prise. ymilius, delighted with this circumstance, gave them a detachment, not so large indeed, as Polybius gives account of, but the number, that Nasica mentions in a short letter wherein he de- scribes this action to a certain king. They had three thousand Italians, who were not Romans, and five thousand men beside, who composed the left wing. To these Nasica added a hundred and twenty horse, and two hundred Thracians and Cretans intermixed, who were of the troops of Harpalus. With this detachment he*- began to march to- ward the sea, and encamped at Heracleum,* as if he intended to sail round, and come upon the enemy's camp behind; but when his soldiers had supped, and night came on, he explained to the officers his real design, and directed them to take a different route. Pursuing this, without loss of time, he arrived at Pythium, where he ordered his men to take some rest. At this place Olympus * The consul gave out that they were to go on hoard the fleet, which, under the commr id of Octavius the pr.etor, lay upon the coast, in order to waste the maritime parts of Macedonia, and so to draw Perseus from his camp. PAULDS jEMILIUS. 191 h ten furlongs and ninety-six feet in hight, as it in signified in the inscription made by Xenagoras, the son of Eutnelus, the man that measured it. The geometricians, indeed, affirm, that there is no mountain in the world more that ten furlongs high, nor sea above that depth, yet it appears that Xenagoras did not take the hight in a careless manner, but regularly, and with proper instru- ments. Nasica passed (he night there. Perseus, for his part seeing ^miiius lie quiet in his camp, had not the least thought of the danger that threatened hirn ; but a Cretan deserter who slipped from Scipio by the way, came and informed him of the circuit the Romans were taking in order to sur- prise him. This news put him in great confu- sion, yet he did not remove his camp; he only sent ten thousand foreign mercenaries and two thousand Macedonians under Milo, with orders to possess themselves of the hights with all possi- ble expedition. Polybius relates that the Romans fell upon them while they were asleep, but Nasi- ca tells us there was a sharp and dangerous con- flict for the hight; that he himself killed a Thra- ciau mercenary who engaged him, by piercing him through the breast with his spear; and that the enemy being routed, and Milo put to a shame- ful flight without his arms, and in his under gar- ment only, he pursued them without any sort of hazard, and led his party down into the plain. Perseus, terrified at this disaster, and disappointed in his hopes, decamped and retired. Yet he was under a necessity of stopping before Pydna, and risking a battle, if he did not choose to divide his army to garrison his town,* and there expect the enerny, who, when once entered into his country, could not be driven out without great slaughter and bloodshed. His friends represented to him, that his army was still superior in numbers, and that they would fight with great resolution in defense of their wives and children, and in sight of their king, who was a partner in their danger. En- couraged by this representation, he fixed his camp there ; he prepared for battle, viewed the country, and assigned each officer his post, as in- tending to meet the Romans when they came off their march. The field where he encampea was fit for the phalanx, which required plain and even ground to act in; near it was a chain of lit- tle hills, proper for the light-armed to retreat to, nnd to wheel about from the attack: and through the middle ran the rivers ^Eson and Lieucus, which though not very deep, because it was the latter end of summer, were likely to give the Romans some trouble. JEniilius having joined Nasica, marched in good order against the enemy. But when he saw the disposition and number of their forces, he was astonished, and stood still to consider what was proper to be done. Hereupon the young officers, eager for the engagement, and particularly Nasica, flushed with his success at Mount Olym- pus, pressed up to him, and begged of him to Jead them forward without delay. ^Emilius only smiled and said, " My friend, if I was of your age, I should certainly do so : but the many vic- tories I have gained have made me observe the errors of the vanquished, and forbid me to give * His best friends advised him to garrison bis strongest c!t : es with his best troops, nnd to lengthen out the wsir ex- perience having shown that the Macedonians were better able to defend cities than the Romans were to take them; bn' ihis opinion the king rejected from this cowardly prin- ciple, that perhaps the town he chose for his residence Plight be first besieged. battle immediately after a march, .0 an army well drawn up, and every way prepared." Then he ordered the foremost ranks, who were in sight of the enemy, to present a front, as il they were ready to engage, and the rear, in the meantime, to mark out a camp, and throw up in- trenchments ; after which, he made the bat- talions wheel off by degrees, beginning with those next the soldiers at work, so that their disposition was insensibly changed, and his whole army encamped without noise. When they had supped, and were thinking of nothing but going to rest, on a sudden the moon, which was then at full, and very high, began to be darkened, and after changing into various col- ors, was at last totally eclipsed.* The Romans, according to their custom, made a great noise by striking upon vessels of brass, and held up light-* ed faggots and torches in the air, in order to recall her light ; but the Macedonians did no such thing ; horror and astonishment seized their whole camp, and a whisper passed among the multitude, that this appearance portended the fall of the king. As for ^milius, he was not en- tirely unacquainted with this matter ; he had heard of the ecliptic inequalities, which bring the moon at certain periods under the shadow of the earth, and darken her, until she has passed that quarter of obscurity, and receives light from the sun again. Nevertheless, as he was wont to as- cribe most events to the Deity, was a religious observer of sacrifices and of the art of divina- tion, he offered up to the moon eleven heifers, as soon as he saw her regain her former luster. At break of day, he also sacrificed oxen to Hercules, to the number of twenty, without any auspicious sign ; but in the twenty-first the desired tokens appeared, and he announced victory to his troops provided they stood upon the defensive.! At the same time he vowed a hecatomb and solemn games in honor of that god, and then commanded the officers to put the army in order of battle ; staying, however, until the sun should decline, and get round to the west, lest, if they came to action in the morning, it should dazzle the eyes of hia soldiers; he sat down in the meantime in his tent, which was open toward the field and the enemy's camp. Some say, that toward evening he availed him- self of an artifice, to make the enemy begin the fight. It seems he turned a horse loose without a bridle, and sent out some Romans to catch him, who were attacked while they were pursuing him, and so the engagement began. Otiiers say, that the Thracians, commanded by one Alexan- der, attacked a Roman convoy ; that seven hun- dred Ligurians making up to its assistance, a sharp skirmish ensued ; and that larger reinforcement being sent to both parties, at last the main bodies were engaged. ./Emilias, like a wise pilot, fore- * Livy tells us, that Sulpitins Gallns, one of the Roman tribnnes, foretold this eclipse; first to the consul, and then with his leave to the army; whereby that terror which eclipses were wont to breed i'n ignorant'minds was entirely taken off, and the soldiers more "and more disposed to con- fide in officers of so great wisdom, and of such general knowledge. t Here we see ^milius availed himself of angtiry, to bring his troops the more readily to comply with what he knew was most prudent. He was sensible of their eager- ness and impetuosity, but he was sensible at the same time that coolness anil calm valor were more neorss-pry to be exerted against the Macedonian phalanx, which was not inferior in courage and discipline to the Romans, and there- fore he told them, that the gods enjoined upon them to stand upon the defensive, if they desired to be victorious. Another reason why JSmilins deferred the fight, was, a* Plutarch tells us, because the morning sun was full in tin eyes of his soldiers. 192 PLUTARCH'S LIVES seeing, by the agitation of both armies, the vio- lence of the impending storm, came out of his lent, passed through the ranks, and encouraged his men. In the meantime, Nasica, who had rode up to the place where the skirmish began, saw the whole of the enemy's army advancing to the charge. First of all marched the Thracians, whose very aspect struck the beholders with terror. They were men of a prodigious size ; their shields were white and glistening ; their vests were black, their legs armed with greaves ; and as they mov- ed, their long pikes, heavy-shod with iron, shook on their right shoulders. Next carne the mercen- aries, variously armed, according to the manner of their respective countries: with these were mix- ed the PaBonians. In the third place moved for- ward the battalions of Macedon, the flower of its youth and the bravest of its sons : their new pur- ple vests and gilded arms, made a splendid ap- pearance. As these took their posts, the Chal- chespides moved out of the camp ; the fields gleamed with the polished steel and the brazen shields winch they bore, and the mountains re- echoed to their cheers. In this order they advan- ced, and that with so much boldness and speed, that the first of their slain* fell only two furlongs from the Roman camp. As soon as the attack was begun, ^Emilius, ad- vancing to the first ranks, found that the fore- most of the Macedonians had struck the heads of their pikes into the shields of the Romans, so that it was impossible for his men to reach their adversaries with their swords. And when he saw the rest of the Macedonians take their buck- lers from their shoulders, join them close togeth- er, and with one motion present their pikes against his legions, the strength of such a ram- part, and the formidable appearance of such a iront struck him with terror and amazement. He never, indeed, saw a more dreadful spectacle, and he often mentioned afterward the impression it made upon him. However, lie took care to show a pleasant and cheerful countenance to his men, aiid even rode about without either helmet or breastplate. But the king of Macedon, as Poly- bius tells us, as soon as the engagement was be- gun, gave way to his fears, and withdrew into the town, under pretense of sacrificing to Hercules ; a. god that accepts not the timid offerings of cowards, nor favors any unjust vows. And sure- ly it is not just, that the man who never shoots, should bear away the prize ; that he who deserts his post, should conquer; that he who is despica- bly indolent, should be successful ; or that a bad man should be happy. But the god attended to the prayers of ^Emilius ; for he begged for suc- cess and victory with his sword in his hand, and fought while he implored the divine aid. Yet one Posidonius,t who says he lived in those times, and was present at that action, in the histo- ry of Perseus, which he wrote iu several books, affirms, that it was not out of cowardice, nor un- der pretense of offering sacrifice that he quitted the fipkl, but because the day before the fight, he received a iiurt on his leg, from the kick of a horse ; that when the battle came on, though very much indisposed, and dissuaded by his friends, he * The light-armed. t Tliis could not be Posidonius of Apamea, who wrote a continuation of Polybius's history: for that Posydonius wpnt to Rome during the consulship of Marcelln, a bun- died and eighteen years after tins hat' IP. Plutarch, ideed, seems to have taken him for a counterfeit, or a writer of no account, when he calls him one PosUouius, w/io tells us he I iived at that time. I commanded one of his horses to be brought, mounted him, and charged, without a breastplate, at the head of the phalanx ; and that, amidst the shower of massive weapons of all kinds, he was struck with a javelin of iron, not indeed with the point, but it glanced in such a manner upon his left side, that it not only rent his clothes, but gave him a bruise in the flesh, the mark of which remained a long time. This is what Posidonius says in defense of Perseus. The Romans, who engaged the phalanx being unable to break it, Salius a Pelignian officer, snatched the ensign of his company and threw it among the enemy. Hereupon, the Pelignians, rushing forward to recover it, for the Italians looked upon it as a great crime and disgrace to abandon their standard, a dreadful conflict and slaughter on both sides ensued. The Romans at- tempting to cut the pikes of the Macedonians as- under with their swords, to beat them back with their shields, or to put them by with their hands : but the Macedonians, holding them steady with both hands, pierced their adversaries throtigh their armor, for neither shield nor corslet was proof against the pike.* The Pelignians, and Marrucinians were thrown headlong down, who without any sort of discretion, or rather with a brutal fury, had exposed themselves to wounds, and ran upon certain death. The first line thus cut in pieces, those that were behind were forced to give back, and though they did not fly, yet they retreated towards Mount Olocrus. .^Ernilius seeing this, rent his clothes, as Posidonius tells us. He was reduced almost to despair, to find that part of his men had reared, and that the rest de- clined the combat with aphalanz, which, by rea- son of the pikes that defended it on all sides like a rampart, appeared impenetrable and invincible. But as the unevenness of the ground and the large extent of the front would not permit their bucklers to be joined through the whole, he ob- served several interstices and openings in the Macedonian line ; as it happens in great armies, according to the different efforts of the combat- ants, who in one part press forward, and in anoth- er are forced to give back. For this reason, he divided his troops, with all possible expedition, in- to platoons, which he ordered to throw themselves into the void spaces of the enemy's front; and so, not to engage witii the whole at once, but to make many impressions at the same time in different parts. These orders being giv'.n by ^Emilius to the officers, and by the officers to the soldiers, they immediately made their way between the pikes, wherever there was an opening :f which was no sooner done, than some took the enemy in flank, where they were quite exposed, while others fetched a compass, and attacked them in the rear ; thus was the phalanx soon broken, and its strength, which depended upon one united ef- fort, was no more. When they came to fight man with man, and party with party, the Mace- donians had only short swords to strike the long shields of the Romans, that reached from head to foot, and slight bucklers to oppose to the Roman swords, which, by reason of their weight, and the force with which they were managed, pierced * This shows the advantage which the pike has over the broad-sword: and the bayonet is still better, because it gives the soldier the free use of his musket, without being encumbered with a pike, and when screwed to the musket, supplies the place of a pike. t On the first appearance of this, Perseus should hav charged the Romans very briskly w ith hi.s hor^e, and by thiit means have given his infantry time to reoov^r them- selves; but instead of this, they ba.eiy provided for tlieir own safety by a precipitate flight. PAULUS ^MILIUS. 193 through all their armor to their bodies; so that they maintained their ground with difficulty, and m the end were entirely routed. It was here, however, that the greatest efforts were made on both sides; and here Marcus, the Bon of Cato,and son-in-law to jEmilius, after sur- prising acts of valor, unfortunately lost his sword. As he was a youth who. had received all the ad- vantages of education, and who owed to so illus- trious a father extraordinary instances of virtue, he was persuaded that he had better die than leave such a spoil in the hands of his enemies. He, therefore, flew through the ranks, and wherever he happened to see any of his friends or acquaint- ance, he told them his misfortune, and begged their assistance. A number of brave young men was thus collected, who following their leader with equal ardor, soon traversed their own army, and fell upon the Macedonians. After a sharp con- flict and dreadful carnage, the enemy was driven back, and the ground being left vacant, the Ro- mans sought for the sword, which, with much difficulty, was found under a heap of arms and dead bodies. Transported with this success, they charged those that remained unbroken, with still greater eagerness and shouts of triumph. The three thousand Macedonians, who were all select men, kept their station, and maintained the fight, but at last were entirely cut off. The rest fled; and terrible was the slaughter of those. The field and the sides of the hills were covered with the dead, and the river Leu c us, which the Romans crossed the day after the battle, was even then mixed with blood. For it is said that about twenty- five thousand were killed on the Macedonian side; whereas the Romans, according to Posidonius, lost but one hundred ; Nasica says, only four- score.* This great battle was soon decided, for it began at the ninth hour,f and victory declared herself before the tenth. The remainder of the day was employed in the pursuit, which was continued for the space of a hundred and twenty furlongs, so that it was far in the night when they re- turned. The servants went with torches to meet their masters, and conducted them with shouts of joy to their tents, which they had illuminated, and adorned with crowns of ivy and laurel. But the general himself was overwhelmed with grief. For, of the two sons that served under him, the youngest, whom he most loved, and who, of ail the brothers, was most happily formed for vir- tue, was not to be found. He was naturally brave and ambitious of honor, and withal very young, lie concluded that his inexperience had eaigaged him too far in the hottest of the battle, mid that he was certainly killed. The whole army was sensible of his sorrow and distress; and leav- ing their supper, they ran out with torches, some to the general's tent, and some out of the trenches to seek him among the first of the slain. A pro- found melancholy reigned in the camp, while the field resounded with the cries of those that called Scipio. For, so admirably had Nature tem- Utterly impossible! if the circumstances of the fight we considered: but Livy's account is lost. t I. e. thiee in the afternoon. 1 The inurel was sacred to Apollo, and the ivy to Bacchus. Bacchus, who is sometimes supposed to be the same with Hercules, was a warrior, and we read of his expedition into India. But the Roman custom of adorning the tents of the victors with ivy, the plant of Bacchus, might arise from a mure simple cause. Ca-sar, in his third book of the civil wars, say*, that in Pompey's camp he found the tent of Lcntulus and some others covered with ivy; so sure had tbcy made themselves of the victory. { He was then in his seventeenth year. 13 pered him, that he was very early marked out by the world, as a person beyond the rest of the youth, likely to excel in the arts both of war and of civil government. It was now very late, and he was almost given up, when he returned from the pursuit, with two or three friends, covered with the fresh blood of the foe, like a generous young hound, carried too far by the charms of tho chase. This is that Sci- pio, who afterward destroyed Carthage and Nu- mantia, and was incomparably the first, both in virtue and power, of the Romans of his time. Thus fortune did not choose at present to make JEmil- ius pay for the favor she did him, but deferred it to another opportunity; and therefore he enjoyed this victory, with full satisfaction. As for Perseus, he fled from Pydna to Pella, with his cavalry, which had suffered no loss. When the foot overtook them, they reproached them as cowards and traitors, pulled them off their horses, and wounded several of them; so that the king dreading the consequences of the tumult, turned his horse out of the common road, and lest he should be known, wrapped up his purple robe, and put it before him; he also took off his diadem, and carried it in his hand, and that he might converse the more conveniently with his friends, alighted from his horse and led him. But they all slunk away from him by degrees; one under pretense of tying his shoe, another of watering his horse, and a third of being thirsty himself: not that they were so much afraid of the enemy, as of the cruelty of Perseus, who, exasperated with his misfortunes, sought to lay the blame of his miscarriage on any- body but himself. He entered Pella in the night, where he killed with his poinard Er.cutes and Euda3iis, two of his treasurers; who when they waited upon him, had found fault with some oif his proceedings, and provoked him by unseason- able liberty of admonition. Hereupon, every body forsook -him, except Evander the Cretan, Ar- chedarnus the ^Etolian, and Neon the BfEOtian: nor did any of his soldiers follow him but the Cretans, who were not attached to his person, but to his money, as bees are to the honey-comb. For he carried great treasure along with him, and suf- fered them to take out of it cups and bowls, and other vessels of gold and silver,* to the value of fifty talents. But when he came to Amphipolia, and from thence to Aiepsus,f his fears a little abat- ing, he sunk again into his old and inborn distem- per of avarice; he lamented to his friends, that he had inadvertently given up to the Cretans some of the gold plate of Alexander the Great, and he applied to those that had it, and even begged of them with tears, to return it him for the value in money. Those that knew him well, easily discovered that he was playing the Cretan with the Cretans;^, but such as were prevailed upon to give up the plate, lost all; for he never paid the money. Thus he got thirty talents from his friends, which soon after were to come into the hands of his enemies, and with these he sailed to Samothrace, where he took refugo at the altar of Castor and Pollux. The Macedonians have always had the char- acter of being lovers of their kings;|| but now, aa * He was afraid to give it them, lest the Macedonian*, out of spite, should take all the rest. t A manuscript copy has it Galepsus, probably upon th authority of Livy. t It was an ancient proverb, The Cretans are always hart. St. Paul has quoted it from Callimaehus. He carried with him two thousand talents. II When Perseus was at Amphipolis, be in;; afraid that th* inhabitant* would take him and deliver him up to the Ro. mans, h MURK* :>> Pn.Un. ti> only child he had wilh 194 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. if the chief bulwark of their constitution was bro- ken down, and all were fallen with it, they sub- mitted to jEmilius, and in two days he was master of all Macedonia. This seems to give somef coun- tenance to those who impute these events to for- tune. A prodigy, which happened at Amphipolis, testified also the favor of the gods. The consul was offering sacrifice there, and the sacred cere- monies were begun, when a flash of lightning fell upon the altar, and at once consumed and conse- crated the victim. But the share which fame had in this affair exceeds both that prodigy and what they tell us of his good fortune. For, on the fourth day after Perseus was beaten at Pydna, as the people were at the equestrian games in Rome, a report was suddenly spread in the first seats of the theater, that JEm ili us had gained agreat battle over Perseus, and overturned the kingdom of Ma- cedon. The news was made public in a moment, the multitude clapped their hands and set up great acclamations, and it passed current that day in the city. Afterward, when il appeared that it had no good foundation, the story dropped for the present; but when a few da} r s after it was confirmed be- yond dispute,* they could not but admire the re- port which was its harbinger, and the fiction which turned to truth. In like manner it is said that an account of the battle of the Italians near the river Sagara, was carried into Peloponnesus the same day it was fought; and of the defeat of the Persians at Mycale, with equal expedition, to Ph-.toen: and that very soon alter the battle which the Romans gained over the Tarquius and the people of Lutium, that fought under their banners, two young men of uncommon size and beauty, who were conjectured to be Castor and Pollux, arrived at Rome from the army, with the news of it. The first man they met with, by the fountain in the market-place, as they were refreshing their horses, that foamed with sweat, expressed his surprise at their account of the victory; whereupon they are said to have smiled, and to h%ve stroked his beard, which im- mediately turned from black to yellow. This circumstance gained credit to his report, and got. him the surname of AVnobnrbus, or Yellow Beard. All these stories are confirmed by that which happened in our limes. For when Lucius Anto- nius rebelled against Dornitian, Rome was much alarmed, and expected a bloody war in Germany, but on a sudden, and of their own proper motion, the people raised a report, and spread if over the city, that Autoninswas vanquished and slain, that his army was cut in pieces, and not one man es- caped. Such a run h.-id the news, and such was the credit given to it, that many of the magistrates offered sacrifice on the occasion. But when the author of it was sought after, they were referred from one to an other, all their inquiries were eluded, and at last the news was lost in the im- mense crowd, as in a vast ocean. Thus the re- him, and having mounted the tribnnal, began to speak; but liis tears flowed so fast, that, after several trials, lie found il impracticable to proceed. Descending again from the tribunal, be spoke to Evander, who then went up to supply his place, and began to speak; but the people, who hated him, refused to hear him, crying out, "Begone, begone; we are resolved not to expose ourselves, our wives," and our children, for your sakes. Fly, therefore, and leave us to make the best terms we can with the conquerors." Evan- der had been the principal actor in the assassination of Eu- menes, and was afterward dispatched in Samuthrace, by order of Perseus, who was afraid that Evander would ac- cuse him as the author of that murder. * It was confirmed by the arrival of Q,. Fabius Maximus, ^Emilitis, L. Lentulus, and Q.. JVletellus, who had been sent express by ./Emilius, and readied Rome the twentieth day alter the action. port, appearing to have no solid foundation, im- mediately vanished. But as Domitian was march- ing his forces to chastise the rebels, messengers and letters met him on the road, which brought an account of the victory. Then they found it was won the same day the report was propagated, though the field of battle was more than twenty thousand furlongs from Rome. This is a fact which no one can be unacquainted with. But to return to the story of Perseus; Cneius Octavius, who was joined in command with ^Emil- ius, came with his fleet to Sainothrace, where, out of reverence, to the gods,* he permitted Perseus to enjoy the protection of the asylum, but watched the coasts and guarded against his escape. Per- seus, however, found means privately to engage one Orandes, a Cretan, to take him and his treasure into his vessel, and carry them off. He, like a true Cretan, took in the treasure, and advised Per- peus to come in the night, with his wife and chil- dren, and necessary attendants, to the port called Demetrium; but, before this, he had set sail. Mis- erable was the condition of Perseus, compelled as he was to escape through a narrow window, and to let himself clown by the wall, with his wife and children, who had little experienced such fatigue and hardship; but. still more pitiable were his groans when, as he wandered by the shore, one told him, (hat he had seen Orandes a good way off at sea. By this time it was day, and, destitute of all other hope, he fled back to the wall. He was not, indeed, undiscovered, yet he reached the place of refuge, with his wife, before the Romans could take measures to prevent it. His children he put into the hands of Ion, who had been his favorite, but now was his betrayer; for he delivered them up to the Romans; and so by the strongest necessity with which nature can be bound, obliged him, as beasts do, when their young are taken, to yield him- self to those who had his children in their power. He had the greatest confidence in Nasica, and for him he inquired; but as he was not there, he bewailed his fate, and sensible of the necessity he lay under, he surrendered himself to Octavius. Then it appeared more plain than ever, that he labored under a more despicable disease than avarice itself I mean the fear of death; and this deprived him even of pity, the only consolation of which fortune does not rob the distressed. For when he desired to be conducted to ^Einiliuso the consul rose from his seat, and, accompanied with his friends, went to receive him with tears in his * The gods of Samothrace were dreaded by al! nation*. The pagans carried their prejudices so far in favor of those pretended deities, that they were struck with awe upon the bare mention of their name?. Of all the oaths that were in use among the ancients, that by these gods was deemed the most sacred and inviolable. Such as were found not to have observed this oath, were looked upon as the unrse of mankind, and persons devoted to destruction. Diodoru* (lib. v.) tells us that these gods were always present, and never failed to assist those that were initiated, and called upon them in any sudden and unexpected danger; and that none ever duly performed their ceremonies without being amply rewarded lor their piety. No wonder, then, if the places of refuge in this island were very highly revered. Beside the temple of Castor and Pollux, to which Perseus fled, there was also a wood, esteemed such, where those who were admitted to the holy rites of ihe Calnri, used to meet. t Octavins, as soon as he had the king in his power, put him on board the admiral galley, and having embarked alsa all his treasure that was left, the Roman fleet weighed and stood for Amphipolis. An express was dispatched from thence to acquaint .^milius with what had happened, who sent Tubero, his son-in-law, with several persons of distinc- tion, to meet Perseus. The consul ordered sacrifices to b immediately offered, and made the same rejoicings us if & ! new victory had been obtained. The whole camp ran out j to see the royal prisoner, who, covered with a mourning I cloak, walked' alone to the tent of ^Etnilius. PAULUS ^EMILIUS. 195 eyes, as a great man unhappily fallen, through th displeasure of the gods. But Perseus behave< in the vilest manner; he bowed down with hi face to the earth, he embraced the Roman's knees his expressions were so mean and his entreatie so abject, that JEmilius could not endure them but regarding him with an eye of regret and in dignation, "Why dost thou, wretched man!' said he, "acquit fortune of what might seern he greatest crime, by a behavior which makes i appear that thou deservest her frowns; and that thoi art not only now, but hast been long unworthy the protection of that goddess? Why dost thou tarnish my laurels, and detract from my achieve ments, by showing thyself a mean adversary, an< unfit to cope with a Roman! Courage in the unfortunate is highly revered, even by an enemy and cowardice, though it meets with success, is held in great contempt among the Romans." Notwithstanding this severe rebuke, he raisec him up, gave hirn his hand, and delivered hin into the custody of Tubero. Then taking hi sons, his sons-in-law, and the principal officers particularly the younger sort, back with him intc his tent, he sat a long time silent, to the astonish- ment of the whole company. At last, he begai to speak of the vicissitudes of fortune, and of hu man affairs. " Is it fit, then," said he, "that a mortal should be elated by prosperity, and plume himself upon the overturning a city, or a king dom? Should we not rather attend to the instruc tions of fortune, who, by such visible marks o her instability, and of the weakness of human power, teaches every one that goes to war, to ex- pect from her nothing solid and permanent? wha ;ime for confidence can there be to man, when in the very instant of victory, he must necessarily dread the power of fortune, and the very joy of success must be mingled with anxiety, from a reflection on the course of unsparing fate, which humbles one man to-day, and to-morrow anotherl when one short hour has been sufficient to over- throw the house of Alexander, who arrived at such a pitch of glory, and extended his empire over great part of the world; when you see princes that were lately at the head of immense armies, receive their provisions for the day from the hands of their enemies; shall you dare to flat- ter yourselves that fortune has firmly settled your prosperity, or that it is proof against the attacks of time? shall you not rather, rny young friends, quit this elation of heart, and the vain raptures of victory, and humble yourselves in the thought of what may happen hereafter, in the expectation that the gods will send some misfortune to coun- terbalance the present success?" ^Emilius, they tell us, having said a great deal to this purpose, dismissed the young men, seasonably chastised with this grave discourse, and restrained in their natural inclination to arrogance. When this was done, he put his army in quar- ters, while he went to take a view of Greece. This progress was attended both with honor to himself and advantage to the Greeks; for he re- dressed the people's grievances, he reformed their civil government, and gave them gratuities, to some wheat, and to others oil, out of the royal stores; in which such vast quantities are said to have been found, that the number of those that asked and received was too small to exhaust the whole. Finding a great square pedestal of white rnarble at Delphi, designed for a golden statue of Perseus, he ordered his own to be put upon it;* * This was not quite so consistent with his humiliating diico use on the vicissitudes of fortune. alleging, that it was but just, that the conquered should give place to the conqueror. A Olympia, we are told, he uttered that celebrated saying; "This Jupiter of Phidias, is the very Jupiter of Homer." Upon the arrival of the ten commissioners* from Rome for settling the affairs of Macedonia, he declared the lands and cities of the Macedo- nians free, and ordered that they should be gov- erned by their own laws^ only reserving a tri- bute to the Romans of a hundred talents, which was not half what their king had imposed. After this, he exhibited various games and spectacles, offered sacrifices to the gods, and made great entertainments; for all which he found an abundant eupply in the treasures of the king. And he showed so just a discernment in the order- ing, the placing, and saluting of his guests, and in distinguishing what degree of civility was due to every man's rank and quality, that the Greeks were amazed at his knowledge of matters of mere politeness, and that amidst his great actions, even trifles did not escape his attention, but were con- ducted with the greatest decorum. That which afforded him the highest satisfaction was, that, notwithstanding the magnificence and variety of his preparations, he himself gave the greatest pleasure to those he entertained. And to those that expressed their admiration of his manage- ment on these occasions, he said, "That it re- quired the same genius to draw up an army and to order an entertainment;! that the one might be most formidable to the enemy, and the other most agreeable to the company." Among his other good qualities, his disinterest- edness and magnanimity stood foremost in the esteem of the world. For he would not so much as look upon the immense quantity of silver and gold that was collected out of the royal palaces, but delivered it to the quaestors, to be carried into the public treasury. He reserved only the books of the king's library for his sons, who were men of letters; and in distributing rewards to those that had distinguished themselves in the battle, he gave a silver cup of five pounds weight to his son-in-law, ^Elius" Tubero. This is that Tubero who, as we have already mentioned, was one of the sixteen relations that lived together, and were all supported by one small farm; and :his piece of plate, acquired by virtue and honor, 's affirmed to be the first that was in the family of .he JElians; neither they nor their wives having, jefore this, either used or wanted any vessels of silver or gold. After he had made every proper regulation,} aken his leave of the Greeks, and exhorted the Vlacedonians to remember the liberty which the lomans had bestowed on them, and to preserve * These ten legates were all men of consular dignity^ who came to assist ^Emilius in settling a new form of go- ernment. The Macedonians were not much charmed nth the promise of liberty, because they could not. weJI omprehend what that liberty was. They saw evident con- adictions in the decree, which, though it spoke of leaving icm under their own laws, imposed many new ones, and ireatened more. What most disturbed them was a division f their kingdom, whereby, as a nation, they were separated nd disjointed from each other. t To these two particulars, of drawing np an army, and rdering an entertainment, Henry the I Vth of France added the making love. t At the close of these proceedings, Andronicus the^Eto- an, and Neo the Bo;otian, because they had always beer. Sends to Perseus, and had not deserted him even now, ere condemned, and lost their heads. So unjust amidst 11 the specious appearances of justice were the conqueror*. This boasted favor of the Romans to the people of tacedon, was certainly nothing extraordinary. Their ountry being now divided into lour districts, it wai d- 19G PLUTARCH'S LIVES. it by good laws and the happiest harmony, he marched into Epirus. The senate had made a decree, that the soldiers who had fought under him against Perseus should have the spoil of the cities of Epirus. In order, therefore, that they might fall upon them unexpectedly, he sent for ten of the principal inhabitants of each city, and fixed a day for them to bring in whatever silver and gold could be found in their houses and tem- ples. With each of these he sent a centurion and guard of soldiers, under pretense of searching for and receiving the precious metal, and as if for this purpose only. But when the day came, they rushed upon all the inhabitants, and began to seize and plunder them. Thus in one hour a hundred and fifty thousand persons were made slaves, and seventy cities sacked. Yet from this general ruin and desolation, each soldier had no more than eleven drachmas to his share. How shocking was such a destruction for the sake of such advantage. ^Emilius, having executed this commission, so contrary to his mildness and humanity, went down to Oricum, where he embarked his forces and passed over into Italy. He sailed up the Tiber in the king's galley, which had sixteen ranks of oars, and was richly adorned with arms taken fro*n the enemy; and with cloth of scarlet and purple; and the banks of the river being cov- ered with multitudes that came to see the ship as it sailed slowly against the stream, the Romans in some measure anticipated his triumph. But the soldiers, who looked wilh longing eyes on the wealth of Perseus, when they found their expectations disappointed, indulged a secret re- sentment, and were ill-affected to ^Emilius. In public they alleged another cause. They said he had behaved in command in a severe and im- perious manner, and therefore they did not meet his wishes for a triumph. Servius Galba, who had served under ^Emilius, as a tribune, and who hid a personal enmity to him, observing this, pulled off the mask, and declared that no triumph ought to be allowed him. Having spread among the soldiery several calumnies against the general, and sharpened the resentment which they had already conceived, Galba requested another day of the tribunes of the people; because the remain- ing four hours, he said, were not sufficient for the intended impeachment. But as the tribunes ordered him to speak then, if he had anything to say, he began a long harangue full of injurious and false allegations, and spun it out to the end of the day. When it was dark, the tribunes dismissed the assembly. The soldiers, now more insolent than ever, thronged about Galba; and animating each other, before it was light took their stand in the capitol, where the tribunes had ordered the assembly to be held. As soon as day appeared, it was put to the vote, and the first tribe gave it against the triumph. When this was understood by the rest of the as- sembly and the senate, the commonalty expressed great concern at the injury done to ^Emilius, but their words had no effect; the principal senators insisted that it was an insufferable attempt, and encouraged each other to repress the bold and licentious spirit of the soldiers, who would in time dared unlawful for any person to intermarry, to carry on any trade, to buy or sell atiy lands, to any one who was not an inhabitant of his own district. They'were prohibited to import any salt; or to sell any timber fit for building ships U tlie barbarian nations. All the nobility, and their chil- dren exceeding the age of fifteen, were commanded imme Uiately to transport themselves into Italy: and the supreme fewer in Macedon was vetted in certain Roman senators. 'stick at no instance of injustice and violence,* if ! something was not done to prevent their depriv- |ing Paulus ^Emilius of the honors of his victory. I They pushed, therefore, through the crowd, and, corning up in a body, demanded that the tribunes would put a stop to the suffrages, until they had delivered what they had to say to the people The poll being stopped accordingly, and silence made, Marcus Servilius, a man of consular dignity, who had killed three and twenty enemies in single combat, stood up, and spoke as follows: "I am now sensible, more than ever, how great a general Paulus ^Emilius is, when with so mu- tinous and disorderly an army he has performed such great and honorable achievements: but I am surprised at the inconsistency of the Roman peo- ple, if after rejoicing in triumphs over the Illyrians and Ligurians, they envy themselves the pleasure of seeing the king of Macedon brought alive, and all the glory of Alexander and Philip led captive by the Roman arms. For is it not a strange thing for you, who upon a slight rumor of tho victory brought hither some time since, offered sacrifices, and made your requests to the gods, that you might soon see that account verified; now the consul is returned with a real victory, to rob the gods of their due honor, and yourselves of the satisfaction, as if you were afraid to behold the greatness of the cunquest, or were willing to spare the king? though indeed, it would be much better to refuse the triumph out of mercy to him, than envy to your general. But to such excess is your malignity arrived, that a man who never received a wound, a man shining in delicacy, and fattened in the shade, dares discourse about the conduct of the war, and the right to a triumph, to you who at the expense of so much blood have learned how to judge of the valor or misbehavior of your commanders." At the same, baring his breast, he showed an incredible number of scars upon it, and then turn ing his back, he uncovered some parts which \a reckoned indecent to expose; and addressing him self to Galba, he said, "Thou laughest at thisi but I glory in these marks before my fellow- citizens: for I got them by being on horseback day and night in their service. But go on to collect the votes; I will attend the whole business, and mark those cowardly and ungrateful men, who had rather have their own inclinations in- dulged in war, than be properly commanded '' This speech they tell us, so humbled the soldiery, and effected such an alteration in them, that the triumph was voted to ^Emilius by every tribe. The triumph is said to have been ordered after this manner. In every theater, or as they call it. circus, where equestrian games used to be held, in the forum, and other parts of the city, which were convenient for seeing the procession, the people erected scaffolds, and on the day of the triumph were all dressed in white. The temples were set open, adorned with garlands, and smok- ing with incense. Many lictors and other officers compelled the disorderly crowd to make way, and opened a clear passage. The triumph took up three days. On the first, which was scarcely suf- ficient for the show, were exhibited the images, paintings, and colossal statues, taken from the enemy, and now carried in two hundred and fifty chariots. Next day, the richest and most beauti- ful of the Macedonian arms were brought up in a great number of wagons. These glittering with new furbished brass and polished steel; and though * This was sadly verified in the times of the Roman em perora. PAULUS ^MILIUS. 197 they were piled witli art and judgment, yet seem- ed to be thrown together promiscuously; hel- mets being placed upon shields, breastplates upon greaves, Cretan targets, Thracian bucklers, and quivers of arrows huddled among the horses' bits, with the points of naked swords and long pikes appearing through on every side. All these arms were tied together with sach a just liberty, that room was left for them to clatter as they were drawn along, and the clank of them was so harsh and terrible, that they were not seen without dread, though among the spoils of the conquered. After the carriages, loaded with arms, walked three thousand men, who carried the silver money iu seven hundred and fifty vessels, each of which contained three talents, and was borne by four men. Others brought bowls, horns, goblets, and cups all of silver, disposed in such order as would make the best show, and valuable not only for their size, but the depth of the basso relievo. On the third day, early in 'the morning, first came up the trumpets, not with such airs as are used in a procession of solemn entry, but with such as the Romans sound when they animate their troops to the charge. These were followed by a hundred and twenty fat oxen, with their horns gilded, and set off with ribbons and garlands. The young men that led these victims, were girded with belts of curious workmanship; and after them came the boys who carried the gold and silver vessels for the sacrifice. Next went the persons that carried the gold coin* in vessels which held three talents each, like those that contained the silver, and which were to the number of seventy-seven. Then followed those that bore the consecrated bowl.f of ten talents weight, which yEmilius had caused to be made of gold, and adorned with pre- cious stones; and those that exposed to view the cups of Antigonus of Seleucns, and such as were of the make of the famed artist, Shericles, together with the gold plate that had been used at Per- seus's table. Immediately after, was to be seen the chariot of that prince, with his armor upon it, and his diadem upon that; at a little distance his children were led captive, attended by a great number of governors, masters and preceptors, all in tears, who stretched out their hands by way of supplication to the spectators, and taught the chil- dren to do the same. There were two sons and one daughter, all so young, that they were not much affected with the greatness of their misfortunes. This insensibility of theirs made the change of their condition more pitiable; insomuch that Per- seus passed on almost without notice; so fixed were the eyes of the Romans upon the children from pity of their fate, that many of them shed tears, and none tasted the joy of the triumph without a mixture of pain, until they were gone by. Behind the children and their train walked Perseus himself, clad all in black, and wearing sandals of the fashion of his country. He had the appearance of a man that was overwhelmed with terror, and whose reason was almost staggered with the weight of his misfortunes. He was fol- lowed by a great number of friends and favorites, whose countenances were oppressed with sorrow, and who, by fixing their weeping eyes continually * According to Plutarch's account, there were 2250 talents of silver coin, and 231 of gold coin. According to Valerius Annas, it amounted to somewhat more; but Livy thinks his computation too small, and Velleius Paterculus makes it almost twice as much. The account which Paterculus gives of it is probably right, since the money now brought from Macedonia set the Romans free from all taxes for one hundred ;md twenty- five years. t This bowl weighed six hundred pounds: for the talent weighed sixty pounds. It was consecrated to Jupiter. upon their prince, testisfied to the spectators, that it was his lot which they lamented, and that they were regardless of their own. He had sent, in- deed, to JEmilius, to desire that he might be ex- cused from being led in triumph, and being made a public spectacle. But ^Ernilius despising his cowardice and attachment to life, by way of deri- sion, it seems, sent him word, " That it had been in his power to prevent it, and still was, if he were so disposed; " hinting, that he should prefer death to disgrace. But he had not the courage to strike the blow, and the vigor of his mind be- ing destroyed by vain hopes, he became a part of his own spoils. Next were carried four hundred coronets of gold; which the cities had sent JEmi- lius, along with their embassies, as compliment* on his victory. Then came the consul himself, riding in a magnificent chariot; a man, exclusive of the pomp of power, worthy to be seen and ad- mired, but his good mien was now set off with a purple robe interwoven with gold, and he held a branch of laurel in his right hand. The whole army likewise carried boughs of laurel, and divid- ed into bands and companies, followed the gene- ral's chariot: some singing satirical songs usual on such occasions, and some chanting odes of victory, and the glorious exploits of ^Emilius, who was revered and admired by all, and whom no good man could envy. But, perhaps there is some superior Being, whose office it is to cast a shade upon any great and eminent prosperity, and so to mingle the lot of human life, that it may not be perfectly free from calamity; but those, as Homer says,* may think themselves most happy to whom fortune gives an equal share of good and evil. For JEmi- lius having four sons, two of which, namely, Scipio and Pabius, were adopted into other fami- lies, as has been mentioned before, and two others by his second wife, as yet but young, whom he brought up in his own house; one 01 these died at fourteen years of age, five days before his father's triumph, and the other at twelve, three days after. There wus not a man among the Romans that did not sympathize with him in this affliction. All were shocked at the cruelty of fortune,f who scrupled not to introduce such deep distress into a house that was full of pleasure, of joy, and festal sacrifices, and to mix the songs of victory and triumph with the mournful dirges of death. JSmiiius, however, rightly considering that * Plutarch here refers to a passage in the speech of Achil- les to Priam, in the last Iliad, which is thus translated by Pope: Two urns by Jove's high throne have ever stood, The source of evil one, and one of good. From thence the cup of mortal man he fills, Blessings to these, to those distributes ills; To most, he mingles both the wretch decreed To taste the bad unmix'd, is curs'd indeed. The happiest taste not happiness sincere, But find the cordial draught is dash'd with care. Plato has censured it as an impiety to say that. God gives evil. God is not the author of evil. Moral evil is the result of the abuse of free agency, natural evil is the consequence of the imperfection o! mutter: and the Deity stands justified in his creating beings liable to both, because natural imper- fection was necessary to a progressive existence, moral im- perfection was necessary to virtue, and virtue was necessary to happiness. However, Homer's allegory seems borrowed from the eastern manner of speaking; Thus in the Psalms, In the hand of the Lord there is u cup, and he ponrcth out of the name; as for the dregs thereof, ail the ungodly of the earth shall drink them. Psal. Ixxv. 8. t Or more properly, the just and visible interposition of Providence, to punish in some measure that general havoa of the human species which the Roman pride and avarice had so recently made in Greece. For though God is not the author of evil, it is no impeachment of his goodnes* to suppose that by particular punishments he chastisai par- ticular crimes. 198 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. mankind have need of courage and fortitude, not only against swords and spears, but against every attack of fortune, so tempered and qualified the present emergencies, as to overbalance the evil by the good, and his private misfortunes by his pub- lic prosperity; that nothing might appear to lessen tbe importance, or tarnish the glory of the victory. For, soon after the burial of the first of his sons, he made, as we said, his triumphal entry; and upon the death of the second, soon after the triumph, he assembled the people of Rome, and made a speech to them, not like a man that want- ed consolation himself, but like one that could alleviate the grief which his fellow-citizens felt for his misfortunes. " Though I have never," said he, " feared any- thing human, yet among things divine I have always had a dread of fortune, as the most faith- less and variable of beings; and because in the course of this war she prospered every measure of mine, the rather did I expect that some tempest would follow so favorable a gale. For in one day I passed the Ionian from Brundusium to Corcyra: from thence in five days I reached Delphi, and sacrificed to Apollo. In five days more I took upon me the command of the army in Macedonia; and as soon as I had offered the usual sacrifices for purifying it, I proceeded to action, and in the space of fifteen days from that time, put a glorious period to the war. Distrusting the fickle goddess on account of such a run of success, and now be- ing secure and free from all danger with respect to the enemy, I was most apprehensive of a change of fortune in my passage home; having such a great and victorious army to conduct, together with the spoils and royal prisoners. Nay, when I arrived safe among my countrymen, and be- held the city full of joy, festivity, and gratitude, still I suspected fortune, knowing that she grants us no great favor without some mixture of uneasi- ness or tribute of pain. Thus full of anxious thoughts of what might happen to the common- wealth, my fears did not quit rne, until this calamity visited my house, ana I had my two pro- mising sons, the only heirs I had left myself, to bury one after another, on the very days sacred to triumph. Now therefore, I am secure as to the greatest danger, and I trust I am fully per- suaded that fortune will continue kind and con- stant to us, since she has taken sufficient usury for her favors of me and mine; for the man who led the triumph is as great an instance of the weakness of human power as he that was led cap- tive: there is only this difference, that ihe sons of Perseus, who were vanquished, are alive; and those of yErnilius, who conquered, are no more." Such was the generous speech which ^Emilius made to the people, from a spirit of magnanimity that was perfectly free from artifice. Though he pitied the fate of Perseus, and was well inclined to serve him, yet all he could do for him, was to get him removed from the com- mon prison to a cleaner apartment and better diet. In that confinement, according to most wri- ters, he starved himself to death. But some say the manner of his death was very strange and peculiar. The soldiers, they tell us, who were his keepers, being on some account provoked at him, and determined to wreak their malice, when they could find no other means of doing it, kept him from sleep, taking turns to watch him, and using such extreme diligence to keep him from rest, that at last he was quite wearied out and died.* Two of his sons also died ; and the third, Thii account we have from Diodorus Sieului, ap. Phot. named Alexander, is said to have been distin- guished for his art in turning, and other small work; and having perfectly learned to speak and write the Roman language, he was employed by the magistrates as a clerk,* in which capacity he showed himself very serviceable and ingenious. Of the acts of ^Emilius with regard to Mace- donia, the most acceptable to the Romans was, that from thence he brought so much money into the public treasury, that the people had no occa- sion to pay any taxes until the time of Heritius and Pansa, who were consuls in the first war be- tween Antony and Ctesar. ^Emilius had also the uncommon and peculiar happiness, to be highly honored and caressed by the people, at the same time that he remained attached to the patrician party, and did nothing to ingratiate himself with the commonalty, but ever acted in concert with men of the first rank, in matters of government. This conduct of his was afterward alleged by way of reproach against Scipio Africanus, by Appius. These two, being then the most con- siderable men in Rome, stood for the censorship; the one having the senate and nobUity on his side, for the Appian family were alwiys in that interest, and the other not only great in himself, but ever greatly in favor with the people. When, therefore, Appius saw Scipio come into the fo- rum attended by a crowd of mean persons, and many who had been slaves, but who were able to cabal, to influence the multitude, and to carry all before them, either by solicitation or clamor, he cried out, " O Paulus ^Emilius ! groan, groan from beneath the earth, to think that JEmilius the crier and Lycinius the rioter, conduct thy son to the censorship ! " It is no wonder if the cause of Scipio was espoused by the people, since he was continually heaping favors upon them. But ^Emilius, though he ranged himself on the side of the nobility, was as much beloved by the populace as the most insinuating of their demagogues. This appeared in their bestowing upon him, among other honors, that of the cen- sorship, which is the most sacred of all offices, and which has great authority annexed to it. as in other respects, so particularly in the power of inquiring into the morals of the citizens. For the censors could expel from the senate any member that acted in a manner unworthy of his station, and enroll a man of character in that bo- dy ; and they could disgrace one of the eques- trian order who behaved licentiously, by taking away his horse. They also took account of the value of each man's estate, and registered the number of the people. The number of citizens which ^Einiiius took, was three hundred and thirty seven thousand four hundred and fifty two. He declared Marcus ^Emilius Lepidus first senator, who had already four times arrived at that dignity. He expelled only three senators, who were rnen of no note ; and with equal mod- eration both he and his colleague Murcius Phil- ippus behaved in examining into the conduct oi the knights. Having settled many important affairs whilfl he bore this office, he fell into a distemper, which at first appeared very dan'gerous, but in Bibliotk, Philip is said to have died before his father, but how or where cannot be collected, because the books of Livy, and of Diodorus Siculus, which treat of those time*, are lost. * Here was a remarkable instance of the pride of the Roman senate, to have the son of a vanquished king foi their clerk: while Nicomedes, the son of Prusas, king of Bithynia, was educated by them with all imaginable pomp and splendor, because the father had put him under the car* of the republic. TIMOLEON AND PAULUS ^MILIUS COMPARED. 199 time became less threatening, though it still was troublesome and difficult to be cured. By the advice therefore of his physicians, he sailed to Velia,* where he remained a long time near the sea, in a very retired and quiet situation. In the meantime the Romans greatly regretted his ab- sence, and by frequent exclamations in the thea- ters, testified their extreme desire to see him again. At last, a public sacrifice coming on, which necessarily required his attendance, JErnil- ius seeming now sufficiently recovered, returned to Rome, and offered that sacrifice, with the as- sistance of the other priests, amidst a prodigious multitude of people, who expressed their joy for his return. Next day he sacrificed again to the gods for his recovery. Having finished thesw rites, he returned home and went to bed : whf> he suddenly fell into a delirium, in which he did the third day, having attained to everything that is supposed to contribute to the happiness of man. His funeral was conducted with wonderful v il- ernnity; the cordial regard of the public did hi *,pr to his virtue, by the best and happiest obse- quies. These did not consist in the pomp of gold, of ivory, or oilier expense and parade, but in esteem, in love, in veneration, expressed not only by his countrymen, but by his very ene- mies. For as many of the Spaniards, Ligurians, and Macedonians,* as happened to be then in Rome, and were young and robust, assisted in carrying his bier ; while the aged followed it, calling JEmilius their benefactor, and the preser- ver of their countries. For he not only, at the time he conquered them, gained the character of humanity, but continued to do them services, and to take care of them, as if they had been his friends and relations. The estate he left behind him scarcely amount- ed to the sum of three hundred and seventy thousand denarii, of which he appointed his sons joint heirs : but Scipio, the younger son, who was adopted into the opulent house of Afri- canus, gave up his part to his brother. Such is the account we have of the life and character of Paulus ^Emilius.f TIMOLEON AND PA JLUS ^MILIUS COMPARED. IF we consider these two great men a' nistory has represented them, we shall find in striking difference between them in the compam jn. Both carried on wars with very respectable enemies ; the one with the Macedonians, the otlo-r with the Carthaginians ; and both with extraordinary suc- cess. One of them conquered M/rcedon, and crushed the house of Antigonus, whV;h had flour- ished in a succession of seven kinrffl ; the other expelled tyranny out of Sicily, and restored that island to its ancient liberty. It may be in favor of /Emilius that he had to do with Pers* us when in his full strength, and when lie had beatf.n the Romans; ind Timoleon, with Dionysiu.s, when reduced to very desperate circumstances : ir, on the other hand, it may tie observed to the a/iantage of Timo- leon, that he subdued many tyr*.'its, and defeated a great army of Carthagiuiaaj, with such forces as he happened to pick up, \?h t were not veteran and experienced troops like ll rie of ,Ernilius, but mercenaries and umliscipluie J men, who had been accustomed to fight only nf. their own pleasure. For equal exploits, with rirxqual means and pre- parations, reflect the gre .<.er glory on the general who performs them. Both paid a strict rep;i / J to justice and integri- ty in their employment*. JEmilius was prepared from the first to behave to, by the laws and man- ners of his country ; but Timoleon's probity was owing entirely to h'jnself. A proof of this is, that in the time of /Fimilius good order univer- sally prevailed amrng the Romans, through a spirit of obedience a> their laws and usages, and a reverence of their fellow-citizens ; whereas, not one of the Grecian generals who commanded in Sicily, kept himself uncorrupted, except Dion : and many entertained a jealousy that even he af- fected monarchy, and dreamed of setting up such a regal authority as that in Lacedaunon. Timeeus informs us, that the Syracusans sent away Plutarch here writes Elea instead of Velia, and calls it a town in Italy, to distinguish it from one of that name in Gylippus loaded with infamy, for his insatiable avarice and rapacity, while he had the command ; many writers give account of the misdemeanors and breach of articles which Pharax the Spartan, and Callippus the Athenian, were guilty of, in hopes of gaining the sovereignty of Sicily. But what were these men, and on what power did they build such hopes 1 Pharax was a follower 01 Dionysius, who was already expelled; and Callip- pus was an officer in the foreign troops in the ser- vice of Dion. But Timoleon was sent to be gen- eral of the Syracusans, at their earnest request; he had not an army to provide, but found one ready formed, which cheerfully obeyed his orders; and yet he employed this power, for no other end than the destruction of their oppressive mas- ters. Yet again, it was to be admired in jEmilius that, though he subdued so opulent a king- dom, he did not add one drachma to his sub- stance. He would not touch, nor even look upon the money himself, though he gave many liberal gifts to others. I do not, however, blame Timo- leon for accepting of a handsome house and lands: for it is no disgrace to take something out of so much, but to take nothing at all is better ; and that is the most consummate virtue which shows that it is above pecuniary considerations, even when it has the best claim to them. As some bodies are able to bear heat, and oth- ers cold, but those are the strongest which are equally fit to endure either ; so the vigor and firmness of those minds are the greatest which are neither elated by prosperity, nor broken by * These were some of the Macedonian nobility, who were then at Rome. Valerius Maximus says, it was like a second triumph to ^Emilius, to have these persons assist in supporting his bier, which was adorned with representations of his conquest of their country. In fact, it was mora honorable than the triumph he hail led up, because this bore witness to his humanity, and the other only to his valor. t A saying of his, to his son Scipio, is worth mentioning A good general never gives battle, but when he is Led to *t, cither by the l<mt necessity, or by a very favorable occasion. 200 PLLTARCH'S LIVES. adversity. And in this respect, JEmilius appears to have been superior ; for, in the great and se- vere misfortune of the loss of his sons, he kept up the same dignity of carriage as in the midst of the happiest success. But Timoleon, when he hud acted as a patriot should, with regard to his brother, did not let his reason support him against his grief; but becoming a prey to sorrow and re- morse, for the space of twenty years he could not so much as look upon the place where the public business was transacted, much less take a part in it. A man should, indeed, be afraid and ashamed of what is really shameful ; but to shrink under every reflection upon his character, though it speaks a delicacy of temper, has noth- ing in it of true greatness of mind. PELOPIDAS. CATO the elder, hearing somebody commend a man who was rashly and indiscreetly daring in war, made this just observation, that there was great difference between a due regard to valor and a con- tempt of life. To this purpose, there is a story of one of the soldiers of Antigonus, who was astonishingly brave, but of an unhealthy com- plexion, and bad habit of body. The king asked him the cause of his paleness, and he aeknow- legded that he Ind a private infirmity. He there- fore gave his physicians a strict charge, that if any remedy could be found, they should apply it with the. utmost care. Thus the man was cured; but then he no longer courted, nor risked his person as before. Antigonus questioned him about it, and could not forbear to express his wonder at the change. The soldier did not conceal the real cause, " You, sir," said he, " have made me less bold, by delivering me from that misery, which made my life of no account to me." From the same way of arguing it was, that a certain Sybarite said of the Spartans, "It was no wonder if they ventured their lives freely in battle, since death was a deliverance to them from such a train of labors, and from such wretched diet." It was natural for the Sybarites,* who were dis- solved in luxury and pleasure, to think that they who despised death, did it not from a love of virtue and honor, but because they were weary of life. But in fact, the Lacedgemonians thought it a pleasure either to live or to die, as virtue and right reason directed ; and so this epitaph testi- fies: Nor life, nor death they deem'd the happier state; But life that's glorious, or a death that's great. For neither is the avoiding of death to be found fault will), if a man is not "dishonorably fond of life: nor is the meeting it with courage to be com- mended, if he is disgusted with I if*. Hence it is, that Homer leads out the boldest and bravest of his warriors to battle always well armed: and the Grecian lawgivers punish him who throws away his shield, not him who loses his sword or spear; thus instructing us, that the first care of every man, especially of every governor of a city,, or commander of an army, should be, to defend "him- self, and after that, he is to think of annoying the enemy. For if, according to the comparison mane by Iphicrates, the light-armed resemble the hands, the cavalry the feet, the main bouy of infantry the breast, and the general the head; * The Sybarites were a colony of Greeks, who settled in ancient times on the gulf of Tarentum. The felicity of their situation, their wealth and power, drew them into luxury, which was remarkable to a proverb. But one can- not credit the extravagant things which Athenaeus relates of them. Their chief city, which at first was called Syba- ris, from a river of that name, was afterward named Thu- num, or Tlmrii. then that general who suffers himself to be car- ried away by his impetuosity, so as to expose himself to needless hazards, not only endangers his own life, but the lives of his whole army, whose safety depends upon his. Callicratidas, therefore, though otherwise a great man, did not answer the soothsayer well, who desired him not to expose himself to danger, because the entrails of the victim threatened his life. "Sparta," said he. "is not bound up in one man." .For in bat- tle, he was indeed but one, when acting under the orders of another, whether at sea or land; but when he had the command, he virtually compre- hended the whole force in himself; so that he was no longer a single person, when such num- bers must perish with him. Much better was the saying of old Antigonus, when he was going to engage in a sea-fight near the isle of Andros. Somebody observed to him that the enemy's fleet was much larger than his: "For how many ships then dost thou reckon me?" He represented the importance of the commander great, as in fact it is when he is a man of experience and valor; and the first duty of such a one is to preserve him who preserves the whole. On the same account we must allow that Ti- motheus expressed himself happily, when Chares showed the Athenians the wounds he had re- ceived, when their general, and his shield pierced with a spear: "I, for rny part," said he, " was much ashamed when, at the siege of Samos, a I javelin fell near me, as if I had behaved too like a young man, and not as became the commander of so great an armament." For where the scale of the whole action turns upon the general's risking his own person, there he is to stand the combat, and to brave the greatest danger, without regarding those who say, that a good general should die of old age; or, at least, an old man: but when the advantage to be reaped from his personal bravery is but small, and all is lost in case of a miscarriage, no one then expects that the general should be endangered, by exerting too much of the soldier. Thus much I thought proper to premise before the Jives of Pelopidas and Marcellus, who were both great men, and both perished by their rash- ness. Both were excellent soldiers, did honor tu their country by the greatest exploits, and had tin most formidable adversaries to deal with; for the one defeated Hannibal, until that time invincible, and the other conquered the Lacedaemonians, who were masters both by sea and land; and yet at last they both threw away their lives, and spilt their blood without any sort of discretion, when the times most required such men and such gene- rals. From this resemblance between them, we j have drawn their parallel. Pelopidas, the BOB of Hippoclus, was of aw PELOPIDAS. 201 Qlustrious family in Thebes, as was also Epaminon- das. .Brought up iii affluence, and corning in his youth to a great estate, he applied himself' to re- lieve such necessitous persons as deserved his bounty, to show that lie. was really master of iiis riches, not their .slave. For the greatest part of men, as Aristotle says, either though covetousness make no use of their wealth, or else abuse it through prodigality; and these live perpetual slaves to their pleasures, as those do to care and toil. The Thebans with grateful hearts enjoyed the lioerality and muniiicence of Felopidas. Epaminondas alone could nut be persuaded to share in it. Pelopidas, uowever, partook in the poverty of his friend, glorying in a plainness of dress and slenderness of diet, indefatigable in labor, and plain and open iu his conduct in the highest posts. la short, he was like Capaneus in Euripiues, Whose opulence was great, And yet his heart was not elated. He looked upon it as a disgrace to expend more upon his own person than the poorest Thebari. As for Epaminoudas, poverty was his inheritance, and consequently familiar to him, but he made it still more light and easy by philosophy, and by the uniform simplicity of his life. Pelopiaas married into a noble family, and had several children, but setting no greater value upon money than before, and devoting all his time to the concerns of the commonwealth, he impaired his substance. And when his friends admonished him, that money which he neylected was a very necessary tiling: It is necessary indeed. said he, Jor Nicodetuus there, pointing to a man that was both lame and blind. Epaminondas and he were both equally inclined to every virtue, but Pelopidas delighted more in the exercises of the body, and Epaminondas in the improvement of the mind; and the one diverted himself in the wrestling-ring or in hunting, while the other spent his hours of leisure in hearing or reading something in philosophy. Among the many things that reflected glory upon both, there was nothing which men of sense so much ad- mired as that strict and inviolable friendship which subsisted between them from first to last, in all the high posts which they held, both military und civil. For if we consider the administration of Aristides and Themistocles, of Cirnon and Pericles, of Micias and Alcibiades, how much the common concern was injured by their dissention, their envy anu jealousy of each other; and then cast our eyes upon the mutual kindness and es- teem which Pelopiuas and Epaminondas inviola- bly preserved, we may justly call these colleagues in civil government and military command, and uot those whose stucy it was to get the better of each other rather than of the enemy. The true cause of the difference was the virtue of tbese Thebans, which led them not to seek, in any of their measures, their own honor and wealth, the pursuit of which is always attended with envy aaid strife; but being both inspired from the first with a uivine ardor to raise their country to the summit o(' glory, for this purpose they availed themselves of tiie achievements of each other, as If they had been their own. But many are of opinion, that their extraordi- nary friendship took its rise from the campaign which they made at .Mantinea,* among the suc- cors which the Thebans had sent the Lacediemo- * We must take care not to confound this with the I'amon* battle at Mantinea, in which Epaminondas was slain. For that battle was fought against the Lacedemonians, and this for them. The acli~on here spoken of was probably about the third year of the ninety-eighth Olympiad. nians, who as yet were their allies For, being placed together among the heavy-armed infantry, and fighting with the Arcadians, that wing of the Lacedaemonians in which they were, gave way and was broken; whereupon Pelopidas and Epa- minondas locked their shields together, anu re- pulsed all that attacked them, unii! at last Pelopi- das, have received seven large wounds, fell upon a heap of friends and enemies who lay dead together. Epaminondas, though he thought there was no life left in him, yet stood forward to defend his body and his arms, and being deter- mined to die rather thin leave his companion in the power of his enemies, he engaged with numbers at once. He was now in extreme danger, being wounded in the breast with a speai, and in the arm with a sword, when Agesipolis, king of the Lacedaemonians, brought succors from the other wing, and, beyond all expectation, delivered them both. After this, the Spartans, in appearance, treated the Thebans as friends and allies,* but, in reality, they were suspicious of their spirit and power; particularly they hated the party of Ismenias and Androclides, in which Peiopidas was, as attached to liberty and a popular government. Therefore Archias, Leontidas, and Philip, men inclined to an oligarcy, and rich withal, and ambitious, per- suaded Phoebidas, the Lacedaemonian, who was marching by Thebes with a body of troops,f to seize the castle called Cadrnea, to drive the oppo- site party out of the city, and to put the adminis- tration into the hands of the nobility, subject to the inspection of the Lacedaemonians. Phoebidas listened to the proposal, and coming upon the Thebans unexpectedly, during the feast of the Thesinophoria+f he made himself master of the citadel, and seized Ismenias, and carried him to LaceduMnon, where he was put to death soou after. Pelopidas, Pherenicus, and Androclides, with many others that fled, were sentenced to banishment. But Epaminondas remained upon the spot, being despised for his philosophy, as a man who would not intermeddle with affairs, and for his poverty, as a man of no power. Though the Lacedaemonians took the command of the army from Phoeidas, and fined him in a hundred thousand drachmas, yet they kept a gar- rison in the Ca imea notwithstanding. All the rest of Greece was surprised at this absurdity of theirs, in punishing the actor, and yet authorizing the action. As for the Thebans, who had lost" their ancient form of government, and were brought into subjection by Archias and Leontidas, there was no room for them to hope to be delivered from their tyranny, which was supported in such a man- ner by the power of the Spartans that it could not be pulled down, unless those Spartans could be deprived of their dominion both by sea and land. Nevertheless, Leonlidas, having got intelligence ' During the whole Peloponnesian war, 8pnrta found a very faithful ally in the Thebans; and under the counte- nance of Sparta," the Thebans recovered the government of liceotn, of which they had been deprived on .icrount <>f their defection to the "Persians. However, at length t! y grew so powerful and headstrong, that when the pearc ot Antalcidas came to he subscribed to, they reused to co;iie into it, and were with no small difficulty overawed a;.d forced into it by the confederates. We learn, indeed, from Polybius, that though the Lacedemonians, at that peace, declared all the Grecian cities tree, they aid not withdraw their garrisons from any one of them. t Phoibid.Ts was marching against Olynthus, when Leon- tidas or Leontiades, one of the two pblemarehs, betrayed to him the town and citadel of Thebes. This happened in the third year of the ninety. ninth Olympiad, three hunibed and seventy-four years before the Christian era. t The women were celebrating tuu feast in the Cadmea. 202 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. that the exiles were at Athens, and that they ttere treated there with great regard by the peo- ple, and no less respected hy the nobility, formed secret designs against their lives. For this pur- pose he employed certain unknown assassins, who took off Androclides; but all the rest escaped. Letters were also sent to the Athenians from Sparta, insisting that they should not harbor or encourage exiles, but drive them out as persons declared by the confederates to be common ene- mies; but the Athenians, agreeable to their usual and natural humanity, as well as in gratitude to the city of Thebes, would not suffer the least in- jury to be done to the exiles, for the Thebans had greatly assisted in restoring the democracy at Athens, having made a decree that if any Athe- nian should march armed through Bceotia against the tyrants, he should not meet with the least hindrance or molestation in that country. Pelopidas, though he was one of the youngest,* applied to each exile in particular, as well as ha- rangued them in a body; urging "That it was both dishonorable and impious to leave their na- tive city enslaved and garrisoned by an enemy; and, meanly contented with their own lives and safety, to wait for the decrees of the Athe- nians, and to make their court to the popular orators; but that they ought to run every hazard in so glorious a cause., imitating the courage and patriotism of Thrasybulus; for as he advanced from Thebes to crush the tyrants in Athens, so should they march from Athens to deliver Thebes." Thus persuaded to accept his proposal, they sent privately to their friends who were left behind in Thebes, to acquaint them with their resolution, which was highly approved of; and Charou,a per- son of the first rank, offered his house for their reception. Philidas found means to be appointed secretary to Archias and Philip, who were then Polemarchs; and as for Epaminondas, he had ta- ken pains all along to inspire the yo.uth with senti- ments of bravery. For he desired them in the public exercises to try the Lacedaemonians at wrestling, and when he saw them elated with success, he used to tell them, by way of reproof, "That they should rather be ashamed of their meanness of spirit in remaining subject to those to whom, in strength, they were so much superior." A day being fixed for putting their designs in execution, it was agreed among the exiles, that Phrenicns with the rest should stay at Thriasium, while a few of the youngest should attempt to get entrance first into the city; and thatif these happen- ed to be surprised by the enemy, the others should take care to provide for their children and their parents. Pelopidas was the first that offered to be of this party, and then Melon, Democlides, and Theopompus, all men of noble blood, who were united to each other by the most faithful friend- ship, and who never had any contest but which should be foremost in the race of glory and valor. These adventurers, who were twelve in number, having embraced those that stayed behind, and sent a messenger before them to Charon, set out in their under garments, with dogs and hunting poles, that none that met them might have any suspicion of what they were about, and that they Xenophon, in the account which he gives of this trans- uction, does not so much as mention Pelopidas. His silence in this respect was probably owing to his partiality to his hero Agesilaus, whose glory he might think would be eclipsed by that of Pelopidas and his worthy colleague Epaminondas: for of the latter, too, he speaks very spa- ringly. might seem to be only hunter s beating about for game. When their messenger came to Charon, and ac- quainted him that that they were on their way te Thebes, the near approach of danger changed not his resolution : he behaved like a man of honor, and made preparations to receive them. Hipposthenidas, who was also in the secret, was not by any means an ill man, but rather a friend to his country and the exiles ; yet he wanted that firmness which the present emergency and the hazardous point of execution required He grew giddy, as it were, at the thought of the great danger they were about to plunge in, and a* | last opened his eyes enough to see, that they I were attempting to shake the Lacedemonian j government, and to free themselves from that power without any other dependence than on that of a few indigent persons and exiles. He therefore went to his own house without saying a word, and dispatched one of his friends to Alelon and Pelopidas, to desire them to defer their enterprise for the present, to return to Athens, and to wait until a more favorable opportunity offered. Chlidon, for that was the name of the man sent upon this business, went home in all haste, took his horse out of the stable, and called for the bridle. His wife being at a loss, and not able to find it, said she had lent it to a neighbor. Upon this, words arose, and mutual reproaches followed; the woman venting bitter imprecations, and wishing the journey might be fatal, both to him, and those that sent him. So that Chlidon having spent great part of the day in the squabble, and looking upon what had happened as ominous, laid aside all thoughts of the journey, and went elsewhere. So near was this great and glorious undertaking to being disconcerted at the very en- trance. Pelopidas and his company, now in the dress of peasants, divided and entered the town at dif- ferent quarters while it was yet day. And, as the cold weather was setting in,* there happened to be a sharp wind and a shower of snow, which concealed them the better ; most people retiring into their houses, to avoid the inclemency of the weather. But those that were conceinod in the affair, received them as they came, and conducted them immediately to Charon's house ; the exiles and others making up the number of lorty-eight. As for the affairs of the tyrants, they stood thus: Philidas, their secretary knew (as we said) the whole design of the exiles, and omitted noth- ing that might contribute to its success. He had invited Archias and Philip some time before, to an entertainment at his house on that day, and promised to introduce to them some women, in order that those who were to attack them, might find them dissolved in wine and pleasure. They had not yet drunk very freely, when a repor reached them, which, though not false, seemed uncertain and obscure, that the exiles were con- cealed somewhere in the city. And though Phili- das endeavored to turn the discourse, Archia sent an officer to Charon, to command his imme- diate attendance. By this time it was grown dark, and Pelopidas and his companions were pre- paring for action, having already put on their breast-plates and girt their swords, when sudden- ly there was a knocking at the door; whereupon one ran to it, and asked what the person's business * The Spartans sei/.ed on the Cadmea about the middle of summer, in the year already mentioned, and it wat taken from them in the beginning of winter, in the firrt year of the hundredth Olympiad. PELOPIDAS. 203 was, and having learned from the officer that he j was sent by the Polemarchs to fetch Charon, he j brought in the news in great confusion. They i were unanimous in their opinion, that the affair j was discovered, and that every man of them ! was lost, before they had performed anything | which became their valor. Nevertheless, they j thought it proper that Charon should obey the | order, and go boldly to the tyrants. Charon was j a man of great intrepidity and courage in dan- gers that threatened only himself, but then he was much affected on account of his friends, and j afraid that he should lie under some suspicion of treachery, if so many brave citizens should per- j ish. Therefore, as he was ready to depart, he took his son, who was yet a child, but of a beau- ty and strength beyond those of his years, out of the women's apartment, and put him in the hands of Pelopidas, desiring, " That if he found him a traitor, he would tjvat that child as an enemy,' and not spare its life." Many of them shed ! tears, when they saw the concern and magnan- j imity of Charon; and all expressed their uneasiness at his thinking any of them so dastardly and so much disconcerted with the present danger, as to be capable of suspecting or blaming him in the least. They begged of him, therefore, not to leave his son with them, but to remove him out of the reach of what might possibly happen, to some place where, safe from the tyrants, he might be brought up to be an avenger of his country and his friends. But Charon refused to remove him, " For what life," said he, "or wh;it deliverance could I wish him that would be more | glorious than his falling honorably with his father I and so many of his friends?" Then he addressed j himself in a prayer to the gods, and having j embraced and encouraged them all, he went out; | endeavoring by the way to compose himself, to | /ofin his countenance, and to assume a tone of voice very different from the real state of his mind When he was come to the door of the house, Ar- chias and Philidas went out to him and said,, " What persons are these Charon, who, as we are | informed, are lately come into the town, and are concealed and countenanced by some of tlie citi- zens ?" Charon was a little" fluttered at first, but soon recovering himself, he asked, " W T ho those persons they spoke of were, and by whom harbored?" And finding that Archias had no clear account of the matter, concluded from I thence that his information came not from any! person that was privy to the design, and there- j fore, said, "Take care that you do not disturb' yourselves with vain rumors. However, I will j make the best inquiry I can; for, perhaps, noth- ] ing of this kind ought to be disregarded." Phili-! das, who was by, commended his prudence, and conducting Archias in again, plied him strongly j with liquor, and prolonged the carousal by keep- ing up their expectation of the women. When Charon was returned home, he found j his friends prepared, not to conquer or to preserve their lives, but to sell them dear, and to fall glo- riously. He told Pelopidas the truth, but con- cealed it from the rest, pretending that Archias had discoursed with him about other matters.* The first storrn was scarcely blown over when fortune raised a second. For there arrived an ex- i press from Athens with a letter from Archias, high priest there, to Archias his namesake and particular friend, not filled with vain and ground- less surmises, but containing a clear narrative of the whole affair, as was found afterward. The messenger being admitted to Archias, now al- most intoxicated, as he delivered the letter, said, " The person who sent this, desired that it might be read imme-Jiately, for it contains business of great importance." But Archias receiving it, said, smiling, Business lo-morrow Then he put it under the bolster of his couch, and resumed the conversation with Philidas. This saying, business to-morrow, passed into a proverb, and con- tinues so among the Greeks to this day. l A good opportunity now offering for the ex- ecution of their purpose, the friends of liberty divided themselves into two bodies, and sallied out. Pelopidas and Dernoclidas went against Leon- tidas and Hypates,* who were neighbors, and Charon and Melon against Archias and Philip. Charon and his company put women's clothes over their armor, and wore thick wreaths of pine and poplar upon their heads to shadow their faces. As soon as they came to the door of the room where the guests were, the company shouted and clapped their hands, believing them to be the wo- men whom they had so long expected. When the pretended women had looked round the room, and distinctly surveyed all the guests, they drew their swords; and making at Archias and Philip across the table, they showed who they were. A small part of the company were persuaded by Philidas not to intermeddle: the rest engaged in the com- bat, and stood up for the Polemarchs, but, being disordered with wine, were easily dispatched. Pelopidas and his party had a more difficult affair of it. They had to do with Leontidas, a sober and valiant man. They found the door made fast, for he was gone to bed, and they knocked a long time before anybody heard. At last a servant perceived it, and came down and removed the bar; which he had no sooner done, than they pushed open the door, and rushing in, threw the man down, and ran to the bed chain' her. Leontidas, conjecturing by the noise and trampling what the matter was," leaped from his bed and seized his sword; but he forgot to put out the lamps, which, had he done, it would have left them to fall foul on each other in the dark. Be- ing' therefore, fully exposed to view, he met them at the door, and with one stroke laid Cephisodo- rus, who was the first man that attempted to enter, dead at his feet. He encountered Pelopidas next, ami the narrowness of the door, together with the dead body of Cephisodorus lying in the way, made the dispute long and doubtful. At last Pelopidas prevailed, and having slain Leon- tidas, he marched immediately with his little band against Hypates. They got into his house in the same manner as they did into the other; but he quickly perceived them, made his escape into a neighbor's house, whither they followed, and dis- palched him. This affair being over, they joined Melon, and sent for the exiles they had left in Attica. They proclaimed liberty to all the Thebans,f and armed such as came over to them, taking down the spoils that were suspended upon the porticos, and the arms out of the shops of the armorers * These were not invited to the entertainment, because * There Fppears r.o necessity for this artifice; and, in- Archias, expecting to meet a woman of <*reat distinction, deed, Plutarch, in his trsatise concerning the genins of j did not choose that Leontidns should be there. "Socrates, says, that Charon came hack to the little band of i t Pelopidas also sent Philidas to all the jails in the city, patriots with a pleasant countenance, and gave them ail an j to release those brave Thebans whom the tyrannic Spar account of what had passed, without the least disguise. , tans kept in fetters. 204 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and sword-cutlers. Epaminonoas* and Gorgidas came to their assistance, with a considerable body of young men and a select number of the old, whom they had collected and armed. The whole city was now in great terror and confusion; the houses were filled with lights, and the streets with men, running to and fro. The people, however, did not yet assemble; but being astonished at what had happened, ami knowing nothing with certainty, they waited with impa- tience for the day. It seems, therefore, to have been a great error in the Spartan officers, (hat they did not immediately sally out and fall upon them; for their garrison consisted of fifteen hundred men, and they vv^re joined beside by many people from the city. But terrified at the shouts, the lights, the hurry, and confusion that were on every side, they contented themselves with preserving the citaoel. As soon as it was day, the exiles from Attica came in armed; the people complied with the summons to assemble; and Epaminondas and Gorgidas presented to them Pelopidas and his party, surrounded by the priests, who carried gar- lands in their hands, and called upon the citizens to exert themselves for their gods and their coun- try. Excited by this appearance, the whole as- sembly stood up, and received them with great acclamations as their benefactors and deliverers. Pelopidas, then elected governor of Boeotia, together with Melon and Charon, immediately blocked up and attacked the citadel, hastening to drive out the Lacedaemonians, and to recover the CadmeaJ before succors could arrive from Sparta. And, indeed, he was but a little beforehand with them; for they had but just surrendered the place, and were returning home, according to capitula- tion, when they met Cleombrotus at Megara, marching toward Thebes with a great army. The Spartans called to account the three Hartnos- tea officers who had commanded in the Cadmea, and signed the capitulation. Hermippidas and Arcissus were executed for it, and the third, named Dysaoridas, was so severely fined, that he was forced to quit Peloponnesus. i This action of Pelopidas was called by the Greeks, sister to that of Thrasybulus, on account of their near resemblance, not only in respect of the great virtues of the men, and the difficulties they had to combat, but the success with which fortune crowned them. For it is not easy to find another instance so remarkable, of the few over- coming the many, and the weak the strong, mere- ly by dint of courage and conduct, and procuring by these means, such great advantages to their country. But. the change of affairs which followed upon this action rendered it still more glorious. For the war which humbled the pride of the Spartans, and deprived them of their empire both * EjKiniiuondas did not join them sooner, because he was afraid that too much innocent blood would be shed with the guilty. tAs it is not probable that the regaining so strong a place should be the work of a day, or have been effected with so small a force as Pelopidas then had. we must have recourse to Uiodorus Siculus and Xenophon, who tell us, that the Athenians, early on the next morning, after the seizin^ on the city, sent the Theban general five thousand foot 'and two thousand horse; and that several other bodies of troops came in from the ciiies of Bceotia, to the number of about seven thousand more; that Pelopidas be.Meged the place in form with them, and that it held out several days, and sur- rendered at length for want of provisions. Diodor. SicuL, lib. xv ; Xenoph. \. v. Jit was a maxim with the Spartans, to die sword in hand, in defense of a place committed to their care. J At. Da.-ier gives a parallel between the conduct of this action, and that of the prince of Monaco, in drivin<* a Spanish garrison out of his town. jy sea and land, took its rise from that night, when Pelopidas, without taking town or castle, but being only one out of twelve who entered a arivate house, loosened and broke to pieces (if we may express truth by a metaphor) the chains of the Spartan government, until then esteemed idissoluble. The Lacedaemonians soon entering Boeotia with a powerful army, the Athenians were struck with terror; and renouncing their alliance with the Thebans, they took cognisance, in a judicial way, of all that continued in the interest of that people: some they put to death, some they banished, and upon others they laid heavy fines. The Thebans jeing thus deserted by their allies, their affairs seemed to be in a desperate situation. But Pelopi- das and Gorgidas, who then had the command in Boeotia, sought means to embroil the Athenians igain with the Spartans; and they availed them- selves of this stratagem. There was a Spartan named Sphodrias, a man of great reputation as a soldier, but of no sound judgment, sanguine in his hopes, and indiscreet in his ambition. This man was left with some troops at Thespise, to receive and protect such of the Boeotians as might come over to the Spartans. To him Pelopidas privately sent a merchant in whom he could con- fide;* well provided with money, and with pro- posals that were more likely to prevail than the money: "That it became him to undertake some noble enterprise to surprise the Piraeus, for in- stance, by falling suddenly upon the Athenians, who were not provided to receive him: for that nothing could be so agreeable to the Spartans as to be masters of Athens; and that the Thebans now incensed against the Athenians, and considering them as traitors, would lend them no mauuer of assistance." Sphodrias, suffering himself at last to be per- suaded, marched into Attica by night; and ad- vanced as far Eleusis.f Thfre the h-jurts of his soldiers began to fail, and finding \As design dis- covered, he returned to Tn.ri.pi8j, after he had thus brought upon the Laced/,. 1 Aid ruis a long and dangerous war. For upoi5 th'Y the Athenians readily united with the TheV'uis; and having fitted out a large fleet, they sailed rou,?d Greece, engag- ing and receiving such as were inclined to shake off the Spartan yoke. Meantime the Thebans, by themselves, frequent- ly came to action with the Lacedaemonians in Boeotia, not in set battles, indeed, but in such as were of considerable service and improvement to them; for their spirits were raised, their bodies inured to labor, and, by being used to these ren- counters, they gained both experience and courage. Hence it was, that Antalcidas, the Spartan, st<id to Agesilaus, when he returned from Boeotia wound- ed, Truly you ire. veil paid for the instruction you have given the Thebans, and for teaching them the art of war against their will. Though to speak properly, Agesilaus was not their instructor, but those prudent generals who made choice of fit opportunities to let loose the Thebans, like so many young hounds, upon the enemy; and when they had tasted of victory, satisfied with the ardor * This is more probable than what Diodorus Siculus says,* namely, that Cleombrotus, without any order from the Ephori, persuaded Sphodrias to surprise the Piraeus. t They hoped to have reached the Piraeus in the night, but found, when the day appeared, that they were got n farther than Eieusis. Sphodrias, perceiving that he wa discovered, in his return, plundered the Athenian territo- ries. The Lacedemonians recalled Sphodrins, and th* Kp/tari proceeded against him; but. Agesilaus, influenced by his son, who was u friend of the son of Sj odrias, brought him oft'. PELOPIDAS. 205 they had shown, brought them off again safe. The chief honor of this was due to Pelopidas. For from the time of his being first chosen gene- ral, until his death, there was not a year that he was out of employment, but he was constantly either captain of the sacred band, or governor of Boeotia. And while he was employed, the Lace- daemonians were several times defeated by the Thebans, particularly at Platae, and at Thespiae, where PiioebiJas, who had surprised the Cadmea, was kille.i; and at Tanagra, where Pelopidas beat a considerable body, and slew, with his own hand, their general Panthoides. But these combats, though they served to ani- mate and encourage the victors, did not quite dishearten the vanquished. For they were not pitched battles, nor regular engagements, but rather advantages gained of the enemy, by well- timed skirmishes, in which the Thebans sometimes pursued, and sometimes retreated. But the battle of Tegyrae, which was a sort of prelude to that of Leuctra, lifted the character of Pelopidas very high; for none of the other com- manders could lay claim to any share of the honor of the day, nor had the enemy any pretext to cover the shame of their defeat. He kept a strict eye upon the city of Orcho- menus,* which had adopted the Spartan interest, and received two companies of foot for its defense, and watched for an opportunity to make himself master of it. Being informed that the garrison were gone upon an expedition into Locris, he hoped to take the town with ease, now it was des- titute of soldiers, and therefore hastened thither with the sacred band, and a small party of horse. But finding, when he was near the town, that other troops were coming from Sparta to supply the place of those that were marched out, he led his forces back again by Tegyrae, along the sides of the mountains, which was the only way he could pass: for all the flat country was overflowed by the river Melas, which, from its very source, spreading itself into marshes, and navigable pieces of water, made the lower roads impracticable. A little below these marshes, stands the temple of Apollo Tegyrcsus, whose oracle there has not been long silent. It flourished most in the Per- sian wars, while Echerates was high-priest. Here they report that Apollo was born ; and at the foot of the neighboring mountain called Delos, the Melas returns into its channel. Behind the tem- ple rise two copious springs, whose waters are ad- mirable for their coolness and agreeable taste. The one is called Palm, and the other Olive, to this day ; so that Latona seems to have been de- livered, not between two trees, but two foun- tains of that name. Ptoum too, is just by, from whence, it is said, a boar suddenly rushed out and frightened her; and the stories of Python andTity- us, the scene of which lies here, agree with their opinion who say, Apollo was born in this place. The other proofs of this matter I omit. For tra- dition does not reckon this deity among those who were born mortal, and afterward were changed nto demi-gods ; of which number were Her- cnlus and Bacchus, who by their virtues were raised from a frail and perishable being to immor- tality : but he is one of those eternal deities who were never born, if we may give, credit to those ancient sages that have treated of these high points. The Thebans then retreating from Orchome- nus toward Tegyrae, the Lacedsemonians who This was one of the largest and most considerable *wns in Bojotia, and still garrisoned by the Lacedasmo- were returning from Locris met them on the road. As soon as they were perceived to be pass- ing the straits, one ran and told Pelopidas, We are J'alltn into the enemy's hands. And, why not they, said he, into ours ? At the same time he or- iered the cavalry to advance from the rear to the front, that they might be ready for the attack ; and the infantry, who were but three hundred,* he drew up in a close body ; hoping that where- ever they charged, they would break through the enemy, though superior in numbers. The Spartans had two battalions. Ephorus says, their battalion consisted of five hundred nen, but Callisthenes makes it seven hundred, and Polyhius and others, nine hundred. Their Polemarchs, Gorgoleon and Theopompus ; pushed boldly on against the Thebans. The shock be- gan in a quarter where the generals fought in per- son on both sides, and was very violent and furi- ous. The Spartan commanders, who attacked Pelopidas, were among the first that were slain; and all that were near them being either killed or put to flight, the whole army was so terrified, that they opened a lane for the Thebans, through which they might have passed safely, and contin- ued their route if they had pleased. But Pelopi- das disdaining to make his escape so, charged those who yet stood their ground, and made such havoc among them, that they fled in great confu- sion. The pursuit was not continued very far, for the Thebans were afraid of the Orchomeni- ans who were near the place of battle, and of the forces just arrived from Lacedaernon. They were satisfied with beating them in fair combat, and making their retreat through a dispersed and defeated army. Having, therefore, erected a trophy, and gath- ered the spoils of the slain, they returned home not a little elated. For it seems that in all their former wars, both with the Greeks and barbarians, the Lacedaemonians had never been beaten, the greater number by the less, nor even by equal numbers, in a pitched battle. Thus their cour- age seemed irresistible, and their renown so much intimidated their adversaries, that they did not care to hazard an engagement with them on equal terms. This battle first taught the Greeks, that it is not the Eurotas, nor the space between Ba- byce and Cnacion, which alone produces brave warriors, but wherever the youth are ashamed of what is base, resolute in a good cause, and more inclined to avoid disgrace than danger, there are the men who are terrible to their enemies. Gorgidas, as some say, first formed the sacred band, consisting of three hundred select men, who were quartered in the Cadmea, and main- tained and exercised at the public expense. They were called the city band, for citadels in those days were called cities. # # * * * But Gorgidas, by disposing those that belong- ed to this sacred band here and there in the first ranks, and covering the front of his infantry with them, gave them but little opportunity to distinguish themselves, or effectually to serve the common cause ; thus divided as they were, and mixed with other troops more in number and of * This small body was, however, the very flower of the Theban army, and was dignified by the names of the sacred battalion and the band of Itrcr.rs (as mentioned below), be- injr equally famed for their fidelity to the Theban slate, and affection for each other. Some fabulous things are related of them, from which we can only infer that they were a brave, resolute set of young men, who had vowed perpetual friendship to each other, and had bound themselves, by the strongest ties, to stand by one another to the last drop of their blood; and were therefore the fittest to be employed ia such private and dangerous expedition*. 206 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. inferior resolution. But when their valor appear- ed with so much luster at Tegyrse, where they fought together, and close to tiie person of their them after- a body, and constantly of them in the most dan- general, Pelopidas would never part ward, but kept them charged at the head gerous attack. For as horses go faster when harnassed together in a chariot, than they do when driven single, not because their united force more easily breaks the air, but because their spirits are raised higher by emulation ; so he thought the courage of brave men would DO most irresistible, when they were acting to- gether and contending with each other which should most excel. But when the Lacedaemonians had made peace with the rest of the Greeks, and continued the war against the Thebans only, and when king Cleombrotus hud entered thoir country with ten thousand foot and a thousand horse, they were not only threatened with the common clangers of war, as before, but even with total extirpation ; which spread the utmost terror over all Boeotia. As Pelopidas, on this occasion, was departing for the army, his wife, who followed him to the door, besought him, with tears, to take care of himself, he answered, My dear, private persons are to be advised to take care of themselves, but persons in a public character to take care of others. When he came to the army, and found the general officers differing in opinion, he was the first to close in with that of Epaminondas, who proposed that they should give the enemy battle. He was not, indeed, then one of those that com- manded in chief, but he was captain of the sa- cred band ; and they had that confidence in him, which was due to a man who had given his coun- try such pledges of his regard for liberty. The resolution thus taken to hazard a battle, and the two armies in sight at Leuctra, Pelopidas had a dream which gave him no small trouble. In that field lie the bodies of the daughters of Scedasus, who are called Leuctri(l<B, from the place. For a rape having been committed upon them by some Spartans whom they had hospitably re- ceived into their house, they had killed them- selves, and were buried there. Upon this, their father went to Lacedaemon, and demanded that justice should be done upon the persons who had committed so detestable and atrocious a crime; and, as he could not obtain it, he vented bitter imprecations against the Spartans, and then killed and the more modern instances of Pherecydes the philosopher, who was put to death by the Lacedaemonians, and whose skin was preserved by their kings, pursuant to the direction of sone oracle ; of Leonidas, who, by the order of the oracle too, sacrificed, himself, as it were, for the sake of Greece ; and lastly, of the human vic- tims offered by Themistocles to Bacchus-omes- tes, before the sea-fight at Salamis ; to ail which sacrifices the ensuing success gave a sanction. They observed also, that Agesilaus, settin sail g id, from the same place that Agamemnon did, and against the same enemies, and seeing, moreover, at Aulius, the same vision of the goddess* do manding his daughter in sacrifice, through an ill timed tenderness for his child, refused it; lh consequence of which was, that his expedition proved unsuccessful. Those that were of the contrary opinion, argued that so barbarous and unjust an offering could not possibly be acceptable to any superior being; that no Typhons or giants, but the father of gods and men, governed the world : that it was absurd to suppose that the gods delighted in human sac- rifices; and, that if any of them did, they ought to be disregarded as impotent beings, since such strange and corrupt desires could not exist but in weak and vicious minds. While the principal officers were engaged on this subject, and Pelopidas was more perplexed than all the rest, on a sudden a she colt quitted the herd, and ran through the camp ; and when she came to the place where they were assembled, she stood still. The officers, for their part, only admired her color, which was a shining red, the stateliness of her form, the vigor of her motions, and the sprightliness of her weighings; but Theo- critus, the diviner, understanding the thing better, cried out to Pelopidas, " Here comes the victim, fortunate man that thou art! wait for no other virgin, but sacrifice that which Heaven hath sent thee " They then took the colt, and led her Ic the tomb of the virgins, where, after the usual prayers, and the ceremony of crowning her, they ofivred her up with joy. not forgetting to publish the vision of Pelopidas, and the sacrifice required, to the whole army. The day of battle being come, Epaminondas drew up the infantry of his left wing in an ob- lique form, that the right wing of the Spartans being obliged to divide from the other Greeks, he might fall with all his force upon Cleombrotus himself upon the tomb of his daughters. | who commanded them, and break them with the From that time many prophesies and oracles forewarned the Spartans to beware of the ven- greater ease. But the enemy, perceiving his in- tention, began to change their order of battle, and gfanoe of Leuctra: the true intent of which but j to extend their right wing and wheel about, with few understood ; for they were in doubt as to the a design to surround Epaminondas. In the mean- place that was meant, there being a little mari- time towu called Leuctrum, in Laconia, and another of the same name near Megalopolis in Ar- cadia. Besides, that injury was done to the daugh- ters of Scedasus long before the battle of Leuctra. Pelopidas, then, as he slept in his tent, thought he saw these young women weeping at their tombs, and loading the Spartans with impreca- tions, while their father ordered him to sacrifice a red-haired young virgin to the damsels, if he de- sired to be victorious in the ensuing engagement. This order appearing to him cruel and unjust, he rose and communicated it to the soothsayers and the generals. Some were of opinion, that it should not be neglected or disobeyed, alleging, to the pur- pose the ancient stories of Menoeceus the son of Creon,* and Macaria the daughter of Hercules; MontPcens devoted himself to death for the benefit of lus country; us did also Macaria for the benefit of the lie- time, Pelopidas came briskly up with his band of three hundred ; and before Cleombrotus could ex- tend his wing as he desired, or reduce it to its for- mer disposition, fell upon the Spartans, disorder- ed as they were with the imperfect movement And though the Spartans, who were excellent masters in the art of war,,labored no point so much as to keep their men from confusion and from dispersing, when their ranks happened to be For an account of the former, see the Phanissa, * Xenophon, in the seventh hook of his Grecian history, acquaints us, that Pelopidas, when he went upon an eni bassy to the king of Persia, represented to him that the hatred which the Lacedaemonians bore the Thebans, wa> owing to their not following Agesilaus when he went, to make war upon Persia, and to their hindering him from sacri ficing his daughter atAulis when Diana demanded her; a com- pliance with which diinand would have insured his suc- cess; such, at least, was the Doctrine of the heathen 'be ology. PELOPIDAS. 207 broken ; insomuch that the private men were as able as the officers to knit again and to make an united effort, wherever any occasion of danger required : yet Epaminondas, then attacking their right wing only, without stopping to contend with the other troops, and Pelopidas rushing upon them with incredible speed and bravery, broke their resolution and baffled their art. The conse- quence was, such a rout and slaughter as had never been known before.* For this reason Pe- lopidas, who had no share in the chief command, but was only captain of a small band, gained as much honor by this day's great success as Epami- nondas, who was governor of Bo3otia and com- mander of the whole army. Bui soon after, they were appointed joint govern- ors of Bo^otia, and entered Peloponnesus together, where they caused several cities to revolt from the Lacedemonians, and brought over to the Theban interest Elis, Argos, all Arcadia, and great part of Laconia itself. It was now the winter solstice, and the latter end of the last month in the year, so that they could hold their office but a few days longer: for new governors were to succeed on the first day of the next month, and the old ones to deliver up their charge under pain of death. The rest of their colleagues, afraid of the law, and disliking a winter campaign, were for march- Ing home without loss of time; but Pelopidas join- ing with Epaminondas to oppose it, encouraged his fellow-citizens, and led them against Sparta. Having passed the Eurotas, they took many of the Lacedaemonian towns, and ravaged all the country to the very sea, with an army of seventy thousand Greeks, of which the Tliebans did not make the twelfth part. But the character of those two great men, without any public order or decree, made all the alliesfollow with silent approbation wherever they led. For the first and supreme law, that of nature, seems to direct those that have need of pro- tection, to take him for their chief who is most able to protect them. And as passengers, though, iu fine weather, or in port, they may behave inso- lently, and brave the pilots, yet as soon as a storm arises and danger appears, fix their eyes on them, and rely wholly on their skill; so the Argives, the Eleans, and the Arcadians, in the bent of their counsels were against the Thebans, and contended with them for superiority of command; but when the time of action came, and danger pressed hard, they followed the Theban generals of their own accord, and submitted to their orders. In this expedition they united all Arcadia into one body, drove out the Spartans who had settled in Messenia, and called home its ancient inhabit- ants; they likewise repeopled Ithoine. And in their return through Cenchrea, they defeated the Athenians, t who had attacked them hr the straits, with a design to hinder their passage. * The Theban army consisted, at most, but of six thou- sand nr;en, whereas that of the enemy was, at least, thrive that number, reckoning the allies. But Epaminondas trust- ed most in his cavalry, wherein he had much the advantage. both in their quality and good management; the rest he endeavored to supply by 'he disposition of his men, who were drawn up fifty "deep, whereas the !?part!ins were bu! twelve. When the Tliebans had gained the victory, and killed Cleombrotus, the Spartans renewed the fight to re- cover the king's body; and in this the Theban general wisely chose to gratify them, rather than to hazard the suc- cess of a second onset. The allies of the Spartans behaved ill in this battle, because they came to it with an expecta- tion to conquer without fightings as for the Thebans, they had no allies at this time. This battle was fought in the rrr befo/e Christ 371. Diod. Sicul. 1. xv. Xcnop/i. Hellen- vi. t Thir happened to the Athenians through the errors of their {^r trA jj.hicrates, who, though otherwise an able pan, f'o i th/. ;;ass of Cenchrea, while he placed his troops in fof.i <!> commodious. After such achievements, all the other Greeks were charmed with their valor, and admired their good fortune; but the envy of their fellow-citizens, which grew up together with their glory, prepared for them a very unkind and unsuitable reception. For at their return they were both capitally tried, for not delivering up their charge, according to law, in the first month, which they call Boucation, but holding it four months longer; during which time they performed those great actions in Mes- senia, Arcadia, and Laconia. Pelopidas was tried first, and therefore was in most danger: however, they were both acquitted. Epaminondas bore the accusation and attempts of malignity with great patience, for he considered it as no small instance of fortitude and magnanimity not to resent the injuries done by his fellow-citi- zens: but Pelopidas, who was naturally of a warm- er temper, and excited by his friends to revenge himself, laid hold on this occasion. Meneclidas, the orator, was one of those who met upon the great enterprise in Charon's house. This man finding himself not held in the same honor with the rest of the deliverers of their coun- try, and being a good speaker, though of bad prin- ciples and malevolent disposition, indulged his natural turn, in accusingand calumniating his su- periors; and this he continued to do with respect to Epaminondas and Pelopidas, even after judg- ment was passed in their favor. He prevailed so far as to deprive Epaminondas of the govern- ment of Bosotia, and managed a party against him a long time with success: but his insinuations against Pelopiiias were not listened to by the peo- ple, and therefore he endeavored to embroil him with Charon. It is the common consolation of envy, when a man cannot maintain the higher ground himself, to represent those he is excelled by, as inferior to some others. Hence it was, that iVIeneclidas was ever extolling the actions of Cha- ron to the people, and lavishing encomiums upon his expeditions and victories. Above all, he mag- nified his success in a battle fought by the cavalry under his command at Platsea, a little before the battle of Leuctra, and endeavored to perpetuate the memory of it by some public monument. The occasion he took was this. Androcides of Cyzicum had agreed with the Thebans for a pic- ture of some other battle, which piece he worked at in the city of Thebes. But upon the revolt, and the war that ensue:!, he was obliged to quit that city, and leave the painting, which was almost fin- ished, with the Thebans. Meneclidas endeavored to persuade the people to hang up this piece in one of their temples, with an inscription signify- ing that it was one of Charon's battles, in order to cast a shade upon the glory of Pelopidas and Epaminondas. Certainly the. proposal was vain and absurd to prefer one single engagement,* in which there fell only Gerandas, a Spartan of no note, with forty others, to so many and such im- portant victories. Pelopidas, therefore, opposed this motion, insisting that it was contrary to the laws and usages of the Thebans, to ascribe the honor of a victory to any one man in particular, and that their country ought, to have the glory of it entire. As for Charon, he was liberal in his praises of him through his whole harangue, but lie showed that Meneclidas was an envious and mali- cious man: and he often asked the Thebans, if they had never before done anything that was great and excellent. Hereupon a heavy fine was laid upon Meneclidas; and, as he was not able to pay it, he endeavored afterward to disturb and * Xenophon speak* slightly of Charon he says, "TU exiles went to th house ol -ont Charon 205 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. overturn the government. Such particulars as these, though small, serve to give an insight into the lives and characters of men. At that time Alexander,* the tyrant of Pherce, making open war against several cities of Thessaly, and entertaining a secret design to bring the whole country into subjection, the Thessalians sent am- bassadors to Thebes to beg the favor of a general and some troops. Pelopidas seeing Epaminondas engaged in settling the affairs of Peloponnesus, of- fered himself lo command in Thessaly, for he was unwilling that his military talents and skill should lie useless; and well satisfied withal, that wherever Epaminondas was, there was no need of any other general. He therefore marched with his forces into Thessaly, where he soon recovered Larissa; and, as Alexander came and made submission, he endeavored to soften and humanise him, and, in- stead of a tyrant, to render him a just and good prince. But finding him incorrigible and brutal, and receiving fresh complaints of his cruelty, his unbridled lusts, and insatiable avarice, he thought it necessary to treat him with some severity; upon which, he made his escape with his guards. Having now secured the Thessalians against the tyrant, and left them in a good understanding among themselves, he advanced into Macedonia.! Ptolerny had commenced hostilities against Alex- ander, king of that country, and they both had went for Pelopidas to be an arbitrator of their dif- ferences, and an assistant to him who should ap- pear to be injured. Accordingly he went and de- cided their disputes, recalled such of the Macedo- nians as had been banished, and taking Philip, the king's brother, and thirty young men of the best families as hostages, he brought them to Thebes; that he might show the Greeks to what hight the Thebau commonwealth was risen by the reputa- tion of its arms, and the confidence that was placed in its justice and probity.} This was that Philip who afterward made war upon Greece to conquer and enslave it. He was now a boy, and brought up at Thebes, in the house of Pammenes. Hence he was believed to have proposed Epaminondas for his pattern; and perhaps he was attentive to that great man's ac- tivity and happy conduct in war, which was in truth the most inconsiderable part of his charac- ter: as for his temperance, his justice, his magna- nimity, and mildness, which really constituted Epaminondas the great man, Philip had no share of them, either natural or acquired. After this the Thessalians complaining again, that Alexander of Pheree disturbed their peace, and formed designs upon their cities, Pelopidas nnd Ismenias were deputed to attend them. But having no expectation of a war, Pelopidas had brought no troops with him, and therefore the ur- gency of the occasion obliged him to make use of the Thessalian forces. At the same time there were fresh commotions in Macedonia; for Ptolemy had killed the king utid assumed the sovereignty. Pelopidas, who was called in by the friends of the deceased, was * He had lately poisoned his undo Polyphron, and set himself np tyrant, in his stead. Polyphroii, indeed, had killed his own hrother Polydore. the father of Alexander. Al! these, wilh Jason, who was of the same family, were u.surpers in Thessaly, which hefore w&s a fiee state. t Amyntas II. left three legitimate children, Alexander, Perdicas, and Philip, Hn<i one natural son, whose name was Ptolemy. This last made war agnii:sl Alexander, slew him Treacherously, and reigned three years. i About this time, the cause of liberty was in a great measure deserted in the other Grecian states. Thebes was now the only commonwealth that retained any remains of Htriolism and concern for the injure I and oppressed. desirous to undertake the cause; but, having no troops of his own, he hastily raised some merce- naries, and marched with them immediately against Ptolemy. Upon their approach, Ptolemy bribed the mercenaries, and brought them over to his side; yet dreading the very name and reputa- tion of Peiopidas, he went to pay his respects to him as his superior, endeavored to pacify him with entreaties, and solemnl)' promised to keep trie kingdom for the brothers "of the dead king, and to regard the enemies and friends of the Thebans as his own. For the performance of these conditions he delivered to him his son Philoxenus and fifty of his companions as hostages. These Pelopidas sent to Thebes. But being incensed at the treachery of the mercenaries, and having intelligence tha* they had lodged the best part of their effects, to- gether with their wives and children, in Pharsalus he thought by taking these he might sufficiently revenge the affront. Hereupon he assembled some Thessalian troops, and inarched against th town. He was no sooner arrived, than Alexan der, the tyrant, appeared before it with his army Pelopidas concluding that he was come to make apology for his conduct, went to him with Isme- nias. Not that he was ignorant what an aban- doned and sanguinary man lie had to deal with, but he imagined that the dignity of Thebes and his own character would protect him from violence. The tyrant, however, when he saw them alone and unarmed, immediately seized their persons, and possessed himself of Pharsalus. This struck all his subjects with terror and astonishment: for they were persuaded, that, after such a flagrant act of injustice, he would spare nobody, but be- have on all occasions, and to all persons like a man that had desperately thrown off all regard to his own life and safety. When the Thebans were informed of this out- rage, they were filled with indignation, and gave orders to their army to march directly into Thes- saly; but Epaminondas then happening to lie un- der their displeasure,* they appointed other gen- erals. As for Pelopidas, the tyrant took him to Pherse, where at first he did not deny any one access ft) him, imagining that he was greatly humbled by his misfortune. But Pelopidas, seeing the Pherse- ans overwhelmed with sorrow, bade them be corrr* forted, because, now vengeance was ready to fall upon the tyrant; and sent to tell him, "That he acted very absurdly in daily torturing and putting to death so many of his innocent subjects, and in the meantime sparing him, who, he might know, was determined to punish him when once out of his hands." The tyrant, surprised at his magna- nimity and unconcern, made answer, "Why is Pelopidas in such haste to die?" Which being re- ported to Pelopidas, he replied, " It is that Ihou, being more hated by the gods than ever, mayest the sooner come to a miserable end." From that time Alexander allowed access to none but his keepers. Thebe. however, tire daughter of Jason, who was wife to the tyrant, having an account from those keepers of his noble and intrepid behavior, had a desire to see him, and to have some discourse with him. When she came into the prison, she could not presently dis- a late hatt. not, * They were displeased at him, hecause, in a late 1 fought with the Laceda:monians near Corinth, he did , as they thought, pursue his advantage to the utmost, and put more of the enemy to the sword. Hereupon, they re- moved him from the government of Boeotia, and sent him along with their forces as a private person. c ingratitude toward great and excellent men, popular governments Such acts ot are common w PELOPID AS. 209 tinguish the majestic turn 6f his person amidst such an appearance of distress ; yet supposing from the disorder of his hair, and the meanness of his attire and provisions, that he was treated un- worthily, she wept. Pelopidas, who knew not his visitor, was much surprised; but when he under- stood her quality, addressed her by her father's came, with whom lie had been intimately ac- quainted. And upon her saying, "I pity your wife," he replied, "And I pity you, who, wearing no fetters, can endure Alexander." This affected her nearly; for she hated the cruelty and insolence of the tyrant, who to his other debaucheries added that of abusing her youngest brother. In conse- quence of tltis, and by frequent interviews with Pelopidas, to whom she communicated her suffer- ings, she conceived a still stronger resentment and aversion for her husband. The Theban gene- rals, who had entered Thessaly without doing anything, and either through their incapacity or ill fortune, returned with disgrace; the city of Thebes fined each of them ten thousand drachmas, and gave Epaminondas the command of the army that was to act in Thessaly. The reputation of the new general gave the Thessalians fresh spirits, and occasioned such great insurrections among them, that the tyrant's affairs seemed to be in a very desperate condi- tion; so great was the terror that fell upon his officers and friends, so forward were his subjects to revolt, and so universal was the joy of the prospect of seeing him punished. Epaminondas, however, preferred the safety of Pelopidas to his own fame; and fearing, if he car- ried matters to an extremity at first, that the tyrant might grow desperate, and destroy his pri- soner, he protracted the war. By fetching a compass, as if to finish his preparations, he kept Alexander in suspense, and managed him so as neither to moderate his violence and pride, nor yet to increase his fierceness and cruelty. For he knew his savage disposition, and the little regard he paid to reason or justice; that he buried some persons alive, and dressed others in the skins of bears and wild boars, and then, by way of diver- sion, baited them with dogs, or dispatched them with darts: that having summoned the people of Meliboea and Scotusa, towns in friendship ad alliance with him, to meet him in full assem- bly, he surrounded them with guards, and with all the wantonness of cruelty put them to the sword, and that he consecrated the spear with which he slew his uncle Polyphron, and having crowned it with garlands, offered sacrifice to it, as to a god, and gave it the name of Tychon. Yet upon see- ing a tragedian act the Troades of Euripides, he went hastily out of the theater, and at the same time sent a message to the actor, " Not to be dis- couraged, but to exert all his skill in his part; for it was not out of any dislike that he went out, but he was ashamed that his citizens should see him, who never pitied those he put to death, weep at the sufferings of Hecuba and Andromache." This execrable tyrant was terrified at the very irame and character of Epaminondas, And droop'd the craven wing. He sent an embassy in all haste to offer satis- faction, but that general did not vouchsafe to admit such a man into alliance with the Thebans; he only granted him a truce of thirty days, and having recovered Pelopidas and Ismenias out of his hands, he marched back again with his army. Soon after this the Thebans having discovered that the Lacedaemonians and Athenians had sent ambassadors to the king of Persia, to draw him 14 into league with them, sent Pelopidas on their part; whose established reputation amply justified their choice. For he had no sooner entered the king's dominions, than he was universally known and honored: the fame of his battles with the La- cedsemo'nians had spread itself through Asia; and, after his victory at Leuctra, the import of nevr successes continually following, had extended his renown to the most distant provinces. So that when he arrived at the king's court, and appeared before the nobles and great officers that waited there, he was the object of universal admiration; "This," said they, "is the man who deprived the Lacedaemonians of the empire both of sea and land, and confined Sparta within the bounds of Taygetus and Eurotas; that Sparta, which a little before, under the conduct of Agesilaus, made war against the great king, and shook the realms of Susa and Ecbatana." On the same account Ar- taxerxes rejoiced to see Pelopidas, and loaded him with honors. But when he heard him converse in terms that were stronger than those of the Athenians, and plainer than those of the Spartans, he admired him still more; and, as kings seldom conceal their inclinations, he made no secret of his attachment to him, but let the other ambassa- dors see the distinction in which he held him. It is true that of all the Greeks, he seemed to have done Antalcidas, the Spartan, the greatest honor,* when he took the garland which he wore at table from his head, dipped it in perfumes, and sent it to him. But though he did not treat Pelopidaa with that familiarity, yet he made him the richest and most magnificent presents, and fully granted his demands; which were, " That all the Greek* should be free and independent ; that Messene should be repeopled, and that the Thebans should be reckoned the king's hereditary friends." With this answer he returned, but w:'thout ac- cepting any of the king's presents, except some tokens of his favor and regard: a circumstance that reflected no small dishonor upon the other ambassadors. The Athenians condemned and executed Timagoras, and justly too, if it was OB account of the many presents he received; for he accepted not only gold and silver, but a magnifi- cent bed, and servants to make it, as if that was an art which the Greeks were not skilled in. He received also four-score cows, and herdsmen to take care of them, as if he wanted their milk for his health; and, at last, he suffered himself to be carried in a litter as far as the sea-coast at the king's expense, who paid four talents for his con- veyance: but his receiving of presents does not seem to have been the principal thing that incensed the Athenians. For when Epicrates, the armor- bearer, acknowledged in full assembly, that he had received the king's presents, and talked of proposing a decree, that, instead of choosing nina archons every year, nine of the poorest citizens should be sent ambassadors to the king, that by his gifts they might be raised to affluence, the people only laughed at the motion. What exas- perated the Athenians most, was, that the The- bans had obtained of the king all they asked: they did not consider how much the character o^ Pelo- pidas outweighed the address of their orators, with a man who ever paid particular attention to mili- tary excellence. This embassy procured Pelopidas great applause, as well on account of the re-peopling of Messene, as to the restoring of liberty to the rest of Greece * If Plutarch means the Spartan ambassador, he differ* from Xenophon, who says that his nam was LutJiiclea. He likewise tells us that Timagor* wa the person whom, the king esteemed next to Pelopidiu. 210 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Alexander, the Pheraean, was now returned to his natural disposition; he had destroyed several cities of Thessaly, and put garrisons into the towns of the Phthiotae, the Achseans, and the Magnesians. As soon as these oppressed people had learned that Pelopidas was returned, they sent their deputies to Thebes, to beg the favor of some forces, and that he might be their general. The Thebans willingly granted their request, and an army was soon got ready; but as the general was on the point of marching, the sun began to be eclipsed, and the city was covered with darkness t.i the day time. Pelopidas, seeing the people in great consterna- tion at this pluBnomenon , did not think proper to force the army to move, while under such terror and dismay, nor to risk the lives of seven thou- sand of his fellow-citizens. Instead of that, he went himself into Thessaly, and taking with him only three hundred horse, consisting of Theban volunteers and strangers, he set out, contrary to the warnings of the soothsayers, and inclinations of the people: for they considered the eclipse as a sign from heaven, the object of which must be some illustrious personage. But beside that Pelopi- das was the more exasperated against Alexander by reasoai of the ill treatment he had received, he hoped, from the conversation he had with Thebe, to find the tyrant's family embroiled and in great disorder. The greatest incitement, however, was the honor of the thing. He had a generous am- bition to show the Greeks, at a time when the Lacedaemonians were sending generals and other officers to Dionysius, the tyrant of Sicily, and the Athenians were pensioners to Alexander, as their benefactor, to whom they had erected a statue in brass, that the Thebans were the only people who took the field in behalf of the oppressed, and en- deavored to exterminate all arbitary and unjust government. When he had arrived at Pharsalus, he assembled his forces, and then marched directly against Alexander; who, knowing that Pelopidas had but. few Thebans about him, and that he himself had double the number of Thessalian infantry, went to meet him as far as the temple of Thetes. When he was informed that the tyrant was ad- vancing toward him with a great army, " So much the better," said he, "/or we shall beat so many the more." Near the place called Cynoscephalae, there are two steep hilis opposite each other, in the middle of the plain. Both sides endeavored to get pos- session of these hills with their infantry. In the meantime, Pelopidas with his cavalry, which was numerous and excellent, charged the enemy's horse and put them to the rout. But while he was pursuing them over the plain, Alexander had gained the hills, having got before the Thessalian foot, which he attacked as they were trying to force those strong bights, killing the foremost, and wounding many of those that followed, so that they toiled without effecting anything. Pe- lopidas seeing this, called back his cavalry, and ordered them to full upon such of the enemy as still kept their ground on the plain; and taking his buckler iu his Imnd, he ran to join those that were engaged on the hills. He soon made his way to the front, and by his presence inspired his soldiers with such vigor and alacrity, that the enemy thought they had quite different men to deal with. They stood *wo or three charges; but when they found that the foot still pressed forward, and saw the horse return from the pursuit, they gave ground, and retreated, but slowly, and step by step Pelopidas then taking a view, from an emi- nence, of the enemy's whole army, which did not yet take to flight, but was full of confus j on and disorder, stopped awhile to look round for Alexan- der. When he perceived him on the right, en- couraging and rallying the mercenaries, he was no longer master of himself; but sacrificing both his safety and his duty as a general to his passion, he sprang forward a great way before his troops, loudly calling for and challenging the tyrant, who did not dare to meet him or to wait for him, but fell back and hid himself in the midst of his I guards. The foremost ranks of the mercenaries, who came hand to hand, were broken by Pelopi- das, and a number of them slain; but others, fighting at a distance, pierced his armour with their javelins. The Thessalians, extremely anxious for him, ran down the hill to his assistance, but when they came to the place, they found him dead upon the ground. Both horse and foot then falling upon the enemy's main body, entirely i routed them, and killed above three thousand. The i pursuit continued a long way, and the fields were covered with the carcasses of the slain. Such of the Thebans as were present were greatly afflicted at the death of Pelopidas, calling i him their father, their savior, and instructor in everything that was great and honorable. Nor is I this to be wondered at; since the Thessalians and allies, after exceeding, by their public acts in his favor, the greatest honors that are usually paid to human virtue, testified their regard for him still more sensibly by the deepest sorrow. For it is said, that those who were in the action, neither put off their armor, nor unbridled their horses, nor bound up their wounds, after they heard that he was dead; but notwithstanding their heat and fatigue, repaired to the body, as if it still had life and sense, piled round it the spoils of the enemy, and cut off their horses' manes and their own hair.* Many of them, when they retired to their tents, neither kindled a fire nor took any refresh- ment; but a melancholy silence prevailed through- out the camp, as if, instead of gaining so great and glorious a victory, they had been worsted ana enslaved by the tyrant. When the news was carried to the towns, the magistrates, young men, children, and priests, came out to meet the body, with trophies, crowns, and golden armor ; and when the time of his interment was come, some of the Thessalians who were venerable for their age, went and begged of the Thebans that they might have the honor of burying him. One of them expressed himself in these terms: " What we request of you, our good allies, will be an honor and conso- lation to us under this great misfortune. It is not the living Pelopidas, whom the Thessalians desire to attend; it is not to Pelopidas sensible of their gratitude, that they would now pay the due honors; all we ask is the permission to wash, to adorn, and inter his dead body, and if we obtain this favor, we shall believe you are persuaded that we think our share in the common calamity greater than yours. You have lost only a good general, but we are so unhappy as to be deprived both of him and of our liberty. For how shall we presume to ask you for another general, when we have not restored to you Pelopidas?" The Thebaus granted their request. And surely there never was a more magnificent funeral, at least in the opinion of those who do not placo magnificence in ivory, gold, and purple; as Phi- listus did, who dwells in admiration upon the funeral of Dionysius; which, pioperly speaking A customary token of mourning among the ancient*. M A RCELLUS. 211 was nothing but the pompous catastrophe of that bloody tragedy, his tyranny. Alexander the Great, too, upon the death of Hephaestion, not only had the manes of the horses and mules shorn, but caused the battlements of the walls to be taken down, that the very cities might seem to mourn, by losing their ornaments, and having the appearance of being shorn and chastised with grief. These things being the effects of arbitrary orders, executed through necessity, and attended both with envy of those for whom they are done, and hatred of those who command them, are not proofs of esteem and respect, but of barbaric pomp, of luxury, and vanity, in those who lavish their wealth to such vain and despicable purposes. But that a man who was only one of the subjects of a republic, dying in a strange country, neither his wife, children, or kinsmen present, without the request or command of any one, should be attended home, conducted to the grave, and crowned by so many cities, and tribes, might justly pass for an instance of the most perfect happiness. For the observation of jEsop is not true, that Death is most unfortunate in the time of prosperity; on the contrary, it is then most happy, since it secures to good men the glory of their virtu- ous actions, and puts them above the power of for- tune. The compliment, therefore, of the Spartan was much more rational, when embracing Diago- ras, after he and his sons and grandsons had all conquered and been crowned at the Olympic games, he said, Die, die now, Diagoras, for thou canst not be a god. And yet, I think, if a man should put all the victories in the Olympian and Pythian games together, he would not pretend to compare them with any one of the enterprises of Pelopidas, which were many, and all successful: so that after he had flourished the greatest part of his life in honor and renown, and had been ap- pointed the thirteenth time governor of Boeotia, he died in a great exploit, the consequence of which was the destruction of the tyrant, and the restor- ing of its liberties to Thessaly. His death, as it gave the allies great concern, so it brought them still greater advantages. For the Thebans were no sooner informed of it, than prompted by a desire of revenge, they sent upon that business seven thousand foot and seven hundred horse; under the command of Malcites and Diogiton. These rinding Alexander weak- ened with his late defeat, and reduced to great difficulties, compelled him to restore the cities he had taken from the Thessalians, to withdraw hia garrisons from the territories of the Magnesians, the PhthiotsB, and Achaeans, and to engage by oath to submit to the Thebans, and to keep his forces in readiness to execute their orders. And here it is proper to relate the punishment which the gods inflicted upon him soon after for his treatment of Pelopidas. He, as we have already mentioned, first taught Thebe, the tyrant's wife, not to dread the exterior pomp and splendor of his palace, though she lived in the midst of guards, consisting of exiles from other countries. She, therefore, fearing his falsehood and hating his cruelty, agreed with her three brothers, Tisi- phonus, Pytholaus, and Lycophron, to take him off; and they put their design in execution after this manner. The whole palace was full of guards, who watched all the night, except the tyrant's bed chamber, which was an upper room, and the door of the apartment was guarded by a dog who was chained there, and who would fly at every body except his master and mistress, and one slave that fed him. When the time fixed for the attempt was come, Thebe concealed her brothers, before it was dark, in a room hard by. She went in alone, as usual, to Alexander, who was already asleep, but presently carne out again, and ordered the slave to take away the dog, because her hus- band chose to sleep without being disturbed: and that the stairs might not creak as the young men came up, she covered them with wool. She then fetched up her brothers, and leaving them at the door with poniards in their hands, went into the chamber, and taking away the tyrant's sword, which hung at the head of his bed, showed it them as a proof that he was fast asleep. The young men now being struck with terror, and not daring to advance, she reproached them with cowardice, and swore in her rage, that she would awake Alexander, and tell him the whole. Shame and fear having brought them to themselves, she led them in and placed them about the bed, her- self holding the light. One of them caught him by the feet, and another by the hair of his head, while the third stabbed him with his poniard. Such a death was, perhaps, too speedy for so abominable a monster; but if it be considered thafc he was the first tyrant who was assassinated by his own wife, and that his dead body was exposed to all kinds of indignities, and spurned and trodden under foot by his subjects, his punishment will appear to have been proportioned to his crimes. MARCELLUS. MARCUS CLAUDIUS, who was five times consul, was the son of Marcus; and, according to Posi- donius, the first of his family that bore the sur- name of Marcellus, that is, Martial. He had, indeed, a great deal of military experience; his make was strong, his arm almost irresistible, and he was naturally inclined to war. But though impetuous and lofty in the combat, on other occasions he was modest and humane. He was BO far a lover of the Grecian learning and elo- quence, as to honor and admire those that excelled in them, though his employments prevented his making that progress in them which he desired. For if Heaven ever designed that any men, in war's rude lists should combat, From youth to age as Homer expresses it, certainly it was the princi- pal Romans of those times. In their youth they had to contend with the Carthaginians for the island of Sicily, in their middle age with the Gauls for Italy itself, and, in their old age again with the Carthaginians and Hannibal. Thus, even in age, they had not the common relaxation and repose, but were called forth by their birth and their merit to accept of military commands. As for Marcellus, there was no kind of fight- ing in which he was not admirably well skilled; but in single combat he excelled himself. He* therefore, never refused a challenge, or failed of killing the challenger. In Sicily, seeing his bro- ther Otacilius in great danger, he covered him with his shield, slew those that attacked him, and 212 PLUTARCH'S LI PES. saved his life. For those things he received from the generals crowns and other military honors, while but a youth; and his reputation increasing every day, the people appointed him to the office of curule cedile. and the priests to that of augur. This is a kind of sacerdotal function to which the law assigns the care of that divination which is taken from the flights of birds. # ****** ******* After the first Carthaginian war,* which had lasted twenty-two years, Rome was soon engaged in a new war with the Gauls. The Jnsnbrians, a Celtic nation, who inhabit that part of Italy which lies at the foot of the Alps, though very power- ful in themselves, called in the assistance of the Gesatae, a people of Gaul, who fight for pay on such occasions. It was a wonderful and fortu- nate thing for the Roman people, that the Gallic war did not break out at the same time with the Punic ; and that the Gauls, observing an exact neutrality all that time, as if they had, waited to take up the conqueror, did not attack the Romans until they were victorious, and at leisure to to receive them. However, this war was not a little alarming to the Romans, as well on account of the vicinity of the Gauls as their character of old as warriors. They were indeed, the enemy whom they dreaded most ; for they had made themselves masters of Rome; and from that time it had been provided by law, that the priests should be exempted from bearing arms, except it were to defend the city against the Gauls. The vast preparations they made were farther proofs of their fears; (for it is said that so many thousands of Romans were never seen in arms either before or since) and so were the new and extraordinary sacrifices which they offered. On other occasions they had not adopted the rites of barbarous and savage nations, but their religious customs had been agreeable to the mild and mer- ciful ceremonies of the Greeks: yet on the ap- pearance of this war, they were forced to comply with certain oracles found in the books of the Sibyls; and thereupon they buried two Greeks,* a man and a woman, and likewise two Gauls, one of each sex, alive in the beast-market. A thing which gave rise to certain private and mysterious rites, which still continue to be performed in the month of November. In the beginning of the war the Romans some- times gained great advantages, and sometimes were no less signally defeated; but there was no decisive action, until the consulate of Flaminius and Furius, who led a very powerful army against the Insubrians. Then we are told, the river which runs through the Picene, was seen flowing with * Plutarch is a little mistaken here in his chronology. The first Punic war lasted twenty-four years, for it began in the year of Rome four hundred and eighty-nine, and peace was made with the Carthaginians in the year five hundred and twelve. The Gauls continued quiet all that time, and did not begin to stir until four years after. Then they advanced to Ariminum; but the Boii mutinying against their leaders, slew the kings Ales and Galates; after which the Gauls fell upow each other, and numbers were slain; they that survived returned home. Five years after this, the Gauls began to prepare fpr a new war, on account of the division which Flaminius had made of the lands in the Picene, taken from the Senones of Gallia Cisalpina. These preparations were carrying on a long time; and it was eight years after that division, before, the war began in earnest under their chiefs Congolitanus and Aneroestes: when L. ^Emilias Papus and C. Atilius Regulns were consuls, in the five hundred and twenty-eighth year of Rome, and the third year of the one hundred and thirty-eighth Olympiad. Polyb. 1. ii. t They offered the same sacrifice at th beginning of the ' Punic war. Liv. 1. xxiu 5. 7. blood, and that three moons appeared ovei the city of Ariminum. But the priests who were to observe the flight of birds at the time of choosing consuls, affirmed that the election was faulty and inauspicious. The senate therefore, immediately sent letters to the camp, to recall the consuls, in- sisting that they should return without loss of time, and resign their office, and forbidding them to act at all against the enemy in consequence of their late appointment. Flaminius having received these letters, deferred opening them until he had engaged and routed the barbarians, and overrun their country.* Therefore, when he returned loaded with spoils, the people did not go out to meet him; and because he did not directly obey the order that recalled him, but treated it with contempt, he was in danger of losing his triumph. As soon as the triumph was over, both he and his colleague were deposed, and reduced to the rank of private citizens. So much regard had the Ro- mans for religion, referring all their affairs to the good pleasure of the gods, and, in their greatest prosperity, not suffering any neglect of the forma of divination and other sacred usages; for they were fully persuaded that it was a matter of greater importance to the preservation of their state to have their generals obedient to the gods, than even to have them victorious in the field. To this purpose, the following story is remarka- ble: Tiberius Sempronius, who was as much respected for his valor and probity as any man in Rome, while consul, named Scipio Nascia and Caius Marcius his successors. When they were gone into the province allotted them, Sempronius happening to meet with a book which contained the sacred regulations for the conduct of war, found that there was one particular which he never knew before. It was this: " When the consul goes to take the auspices in a house or tent, without the city, hired for that purpose, and is obliged by some necessary business to return into the city before any sure sign appears to him, he must not make use of that lodge again, but take another, and there begin his observations anew." Sempronius was ignorant of this, when he named those two consuls, for he had twice made use of the same place: but when he per- ceived his error, he made the senate acquainted with it. They, for their part, did not lightly pass over so small a defect, but wrote to the consule about it; who left their provinces and returned with all speed to Rome, where they laid down their offices. This did not happen until long aftei the affair of which we were speaking.f But about that very time, two priests of the best families of Rome, Cornelius Cethegus and Quintus Sulpicius, were degraded from the priest- hood; the former because he did not present the entrails of the victim according to rule; and the *Flamimus was not entitled to this success by his con- duct. He gave battle with a river behind him, where there was not room for his men to rally or retreat, if they had been broken. But possibly he might make such a disposi- tion of his forces, to show'them that they must either con- quer or die; for he knew that he was acting against the intentions of the senate, and that nothing bu. succes could bring him off. Indeed, he was naturally rash and daring. It was the skill and management of the legionary tri bunes which made amends for the consul's imprudence. They distributed among the soldiers of the first line the pikes of the Triarii, to prevent the enemy from making use of their swords: and when the first ardor of the Gauls was over, they ordered the Romans to shorten their swords, close with the enemy, so as to leave them no room to lift up their arms, and stab them, which they did without run- ning any hazard themselves, the swords of the Gauls havinf no points. t Sixty years after. MARCELLUS. latter because, as he was sacrificing, the tuft of his cap, which was such an one as the Flamines wear, fell off. And because the squeaking of a rat happened to be heard, at the moment that Minucius the Dictator appointed Caius Flaminius his general of horse, the people obliged them to quit their posts, and appointed others in their Btead. But while they observed these small mat- ters with such exactness, they gave not in to any sort of superstition,* for they neither changed nor went beyond the ancient ceremonies. Flaininiusand his colleague being deposed from the consulship, the magistrates, called intcrrcges,\ nominated Marcellus to that high office; who, when he entered upon it, took Cneius Cornelius for his colleague. Though the Gauls are said to have been disposed to a reconciliation, and the senate was peaceably inclined, yet the people, at the instigation of Marcellus, were for war. How- ever, a peace was concluded; which seems to have been broken by the Gesatae, who having passed the Alps, with thirty thousand men, pre- vailed with the Insubrians to join them with much greater numbers. Elated with their strength, they marched immediately to Acerrae.i a city on the banks of the Po. There Viridomarus, king of theGesalae, took ten thousand men from the main body, and with this body laid waste all the coun- try about the river. When Marcellus was informed of their march, he left his colleague before Aceme, with all the heavy-armed infantry, and the third part of the horse; and taking with him the rest of the ca- valry, and about six hundred of the light-armed foot, he set out and kept forward, day and night, until he came up with the ten thousand Gesatae near Clastidium,^ a little town of the Gauls, which had very lately submitted to the Romans. He had not time to give his troops any rest or refreshment; for the barbarians immediately per- ceived his approach, and despised his attempt, as he had but a handful of infantry, and they made no account of his cavalry. These, as well as all ihe other Gauls, being skilled in fighting on horse- back, thought they had the advantage in this respect; and, beside, they greatly exceeded Mar- cellus in numbers. They marched, therefore, directly against him, their king at their head, with j^reat impetuosity and dreadful menaces, as if sure of crushing hirn at once. Marcellus, because his party was but small, to prevent its being sur- rounded, extended the wings of his cavalry, thin- ning and widening the Hue, until he presented^ front nearly equal to that of the enemy. HH was now advancing to the charge, when his horse, ter- rified with the shouts of the Gauls, turned short, and forcibly carried him back. Marcellus fearing that this, interpreted by superstition, should cause some disorder in his troops, quickly turned his horse aguin toward the enemy, and then paid his adorations to the sun; as if that movement had been made, not by accident, but design, for the Romans always turn round when they worship the gods. Upon the point of engaging, he vowed to Jupiter Feretrius the choicest of the enemy's arms. In the meanlime, the king of the Gauls ' This word is here used in the literal sense. t These were officers, who, when there were no legal magistrates in being, were appointed to hold the comitia for electing new ones. The title of iutcrreges, which was given tiiem while the government was regal, was continued to them under the commonwealth. J The Romans were besieging AcerrsB, and the Gauls went to relieve it; but finding themselves unable to do that, they passed the Po with part of their army, and laid siege to Clastidimn to make a diversion. Polyb. 1. ii. } Livy places this town in Liguria Montana. 213 spied him, and judging by the ensigns of autho- rity that he was the consul, he set spurs to his lorse, and advanced a considerable way before the rest, brandishing his spear, and loudly challenging lim to the combat. He was distinguished from the rest of the Gauls by his stature, as well as by armor, which, being set off with gold and silver, and the most lively colors, shone like light- ning. As Marcellus was viewing the disposition of the enemy's forces, he cast his eyes upon this rich suit of armor, and concluding that in it liis vow to Jupiter would be accomplished, he rushed upon the Gaul, and pierced his breast-plate with his spear, which stroke together with the weight and force of the consul's horse, brought lim to the ground, and with two or throe more blows he dispatched him. He then leaped from his horse and disarmed him, and lifting up his spoils toward heaven he said, " Jupiter Fere- trius, who observes! the deeds of great warriors and generals in battle, I now c;ill thee to witness, that i arn the third Roman consul and general who have, with my own hands, slain a general and a king! To thee I consecrate the most excel- lent spoils. Do thou grant us equal success in the prosecution of this war." When this prayer was ended, the Roman ca- valry encountered both the enemy's horse and foot at the same time, and gained a victory; not only great in itself, but pecuHar in its kind: for we have no account of such a handful of cavalry beating such numbers both of horse and foot, either before or since. Marcellus having killed the greatest part of the enemy, and taken their arms and baggage, returned to his colleague,* who had no such good success against the Gauls before Milan, which is a great and populous city, and the metropolis of that country. For this rea- son the Gauls defended it, with such spirit and resolution that Scipio, instead of besieging it, seemed rather besieged himself. But upon the return of Marcellus, the Gesatae, understanding that their king was slain, and his army defeated, drew off their forces; and so Milan was taken,f and the Gauls surrendering the rest of their cities, and referring everything to the equity of the Ro- mans, obtained reasonable conditions of peace. The senate decreed a triumph to Marcellus only; and, whether we consider the rich spoils that were displayed in it, the prodigious size of the captives, or the magnificence with which the whole was conducted, it was one of the most splendid that was ever seen. But the most agree- able and most uncommon spectacle was Marcel- lus himself, carrying the armor of Viruiomarus, which he vowed to Jupiter. He had cut the trunk of an oak in the form of a trophy, which he adorned with the spoils of that barbarian, placing every part of his arms in handsome order. When the procession began to move, he mounted his chariot, which was drawn by four horses, and passed through the city with the trophy on his shoulders, which was the noblest ornament of the whole triumph. The army followed, clad in ele- gant armor, and singing odes composed fcr that occasion, and other songs of triumph, in honor of Jupiter and their general. When he came to the temple of Jupiter Ferc~ trius, he set up and consecrated the trophy, being the third and last general, who as yet has been * During the absence of Marcellus, Aceme had been taken by his colleague Scijiio, who from thence had march* ed to invest Mediolanum, or Milan. t Comum, also, another city of great importance, surren- dered. Thus all Italy, from the Alps to the Ionian sea, became entirely Roman. 214 PLUTARCH'S LIVES o gloriously distinguished. The first was Romu- lus, after he had slain Acrcn, king of the Caeni- neuses; Cornelius Cossus, who slow Volumnius tft Tuscan, was the second; and the third and last was Marcellus. who killed with his own hand Viridomarus, king of the Gauls. The god to whom these spoils were devoted, was Jupiter, sur- named Feretrius, (as some say) from the Greek word Pheretron, which signifies a car, for the trophy was borne on such a carriage, and the Greek language at that time was much mixed with the Latin. Others say, Jupiter had that appellation, because he strikes with lightning, for the Latin word ferire signifies to strike. Others again will have it, that it is on account of the strokes which are given in battle; for even now, when the Romans charge or pursue an enemy, they encourage each other hy calling out, feri, feri. strike, strike them down. What they take from the enemy in the field, they call by the general name of spoils, but those which a Roman general takes from the general of the enemy they call opime spoils. It is indeed said, that Nurna Pompilius, in his Commentaries, makes mention of opime spoils of the first, second, and third order: that he directed the first to be consecrated to Ju- piter, the second to Mars, and the third to Quiri- nus; and that the persons who took the first should be rewarded with three hundred ases, the second, with two hundred, and the third, one hundred. But the most received opinion is, that those of the first sort only should be honored with the name of opime, which a general takes in a pitched battle, when he kills the enemy's general with his own hand. But enough of this matter. The Romans thought themselves so happy in the glorious period put to this war, that they made an offering to Apollo at Delphi, of a golden cup in testimony of their gratitude : they also liberally shared the spoils with the confederate cities, and made a very handsome present out of them toHiero, king of Syracuse, their friend and ally. Some time after this, Hannibal having entered Italy, Marcellus was sent with a fleet to Sicily. The war continued to rage, and that unfortunate blow was received at Cannae, by which many thousands of Romans fell. The few that escap- ed fled to Canusium ; and it was expected that Hannibal, who had thus destroyed the strength of the Roman forces, would inarch directly to Rome. Hereupon, Marcellus first sent fifteen hundred of his men to guard the city, and afterward, by or- der of the senate, he went to Canusium, drew out the troops that had retired thither, and march- ed at their head to keep the country from being ravaged by the enemy. The wars had by this time carried off the chief of the Roman nobility, and most of their best officers. Still, indeed, there remained Fabi- us Maximus, a man highly respected for his pro- bity and prudence ; but his extraordinary atten- to the avoiding of loss passed for want of tion spirit and incapacity for action. The Romans, therefore, considering him as a proper person for the defensive, but not the offensive part of war, had recourse to Marcellus ; and wisely tempering his boldness and activity with the slow and cautious conduct of Fabius, they sometimes appointed them consuls together, and sometimes sent out the one in the quality of Consul, and the other in that of Pro-consul. Posidonius tells us, that Fabius was called the buckler, and Mar- cellus the stoord : but Hannibal himself said, "He stood in fear of Fabius as his schoolmaster, and of Marcellus as his adversary : for he receiv- ed hurt from the latter, and the former prevented his doing hurt himself." Hannibal's soldiers, elated with their victory, grew careless, and, straggling from the camp, roamed about the country; where Marcellus fell upon them, and cut off great numbers. After this, he went to the relief of Naples and Nola. The Neapolitans he confirmed in the Roman in- terest, to which they were themselves well in- clined : but when he entered Nola, he found great divisions there, the senate of that city be- ing unable to restrain the commonalty who were attached to Hannibal. There was a citizen in the place named Bandius,* well born and cele- brated for his valor : for he greatly distinguished himself in the battle of Cannae, where, after kill- ing a number of Carthaginians, he was at last found upon a heap of dead bodies, covered with wounds. Hannibal, admiring his bravery, dis- missed him not only without ransom, but with handsome presents, honoring him with his friend- ship and admission to the rights of hospitality Baud! us, in gratitude for these favors, heartily espoused the party of Hannibal, and by his au- thority drew the people on to a revolt. Marcel- lus thought it wrong to put a man to death, who had gloriously fought the battles of Rome. Be- sides, the general had so engaging a manner grafted upon his native humanity, that he could hardly fail of attracting the regards of a man of a great and generous spirit. One day, Bandius happening to salute him, Marcellus asked who he was ; not that he was a stranger to his per- son, but that he might have an opportunity to introduce what he had to say. Being told his name was Lucius Bandius, " What ! " says Mar- cellus, in seeming admiration, " that Baiulius who has been so much talked of in Rome for his gallant behavior at Cannae, who indeed was the only man that did not abandon the consul ^Emil- ius, but received in his own body most of the shafts that were aimed at him ! " Bandius, say- ing he was the very person, and showing some of the scars, " Why then, " replied Marcellus, " when you bore about you such marks of youi regard for us, did not you come to us one of the first ? Do we seem to you slow to reward the virtue of a friend, who is honored even by his enemies 1 " After this obliging discourse, he embraced him, and made him a present of a war horse, and five hundred drachmas in silver. * From this time Bandius was very cordially attached to Marcellus, and constantly informed him of the proceedings of the opposite party, who were very numerous, and who had resolved, whtn the Romans marched out against the enemy, to plunder their baggage. Hereupon Marcollua drew up his forces in order of battle within the city, placed the baggage near the gates, and published an edict, forbidding the in- habitants to appear upon the walls. Hannibal seeing no hostile appearance, concluded that every thing was in #reat disorder in the city, and therefore ho approached it with little precaution At this moment Marcellus commanded the gate that was next hion ta be opened, and sallying out with the best of his cavalry, he charged the ene- my in front. Soon Alter the infantry rushed out at another gate, wiih loud shouts. And while Hannibal was dividing his forces, to oppose these two parties, a third #ate was opened, and the rest of the Roman troops. Irsru<f out, attacked the enemy on another sid\ r-ho -v<*re greatly * Or Ba&tiw M ARCELLUS. 210 Jisconcerted at such an unexpected sally, and who made but a faint resistance against those with whom they were first engaged, by reason of their being fallen upon by another body. Then it was that Hannibal's men, struck with terror, and covered with wounds, first gave back before the Romans, and were driven to their camp. Above five thousand of them are said to have been slain, whereas of the Romans there fell not more than five hundred. Livy does not, in- deed, make ihis defeat and loss on the Cartha- ginian side to have been so considerable ; he only affirms that Marcellus gained great honor by this battle, and that the courage of the Romans was wonderfully restored after all their misfor- tunes, who now no longer believed that they had to do with an enemy that was invincible, but one who was liable to suffer in his turn. For this reasor:, the people called Marcellus, though absent, to fill the place of one of the con- suls,* who was dead, and prevailed, against the sense of the magistrates, to have the election put off until his return. Upon his arrival, he was unanimously chosen consul; but it happening to thunder at that time, the augurs saw that the omen was unfortunate; and, as they did not choose to declare it such, for fear of the people,f Marcellus voluntaiily laid down the office. Not withstanding this, he had the command of the army continued to him in quality of Proconsul, and returned immediately to Nola, from whence he made excursions to chastise those that had de- clared -for the Carthaginians. Hannibal made haste to their assistance, and offered him battle, which he declined. But some days after, when He saw that Hannibal, no longer expecting a battle, had sent out the greatest part of his army to plunder the country, he attacked him vigorous- ly, having first provided the foot with long spears, such as they use in sea-fights, which they were taught to hurl at the Carthaginians at a distance, who, for their part, were not skilled in the use of the javelin, and only fought hand to hand with short swords. For this reason all that attempted to make head against the Romans, were obliged to give way, and fly in great confusion, leaving five thousand men slain upon the field ;i beside the loss of four elephants killed, and two taken. What was of still greater importance, the third day after the battle, above three hundred horse, Spaniards and Numidians, came over to Marcel- lus. A misfortune which never before happened to Hannibal; for though his army was collected from several barbarous nations, different both in their manners and their language, yet he had long time preserved a perfect unanimity througl out the whole. This body of horse ever contin- ued faithful to Marcellns, and those that suc- ceeded him in the command. || * This was Posthnmins Albinus, who was cut off with all his army, by the Boii, in, a vast forest, called by the Gauls the forest of Litana. It seems they had cut all the trees near the road he was to pass, in such a manner tha they might be tumbled upon his army with the least motion t Maruellus was a plebeian, as was also his colleague Sempronius; and the patricians, unwilling to see two ple- beians consuls at the same time, influenced the augurs to pronounce the election of Marcellus disagreeable to the sods. But the people would not have acquiesced in the declaration of r.he augurs, had not Marcellus showed him- self on this occasion as zealous a republican as he was a Bieat commander, and refused that honor which had not the sanction of all his fellow-citizens. t On the Roman side there was not a thousand killed. Liv. lib. xxiii, c. 46. Livy makes them a thousand two hundred and seventy- iwo. ft is therefore probable that we should read in th place, one thousand fkree hundred horxe. il Marcellus beat Hannibal a third time before Nola: and Marcellus, being appointed consul the third time, passed over into Sicily.* For HannibaPs great success had encouraged the Carthaginians again to support their claim to that island: and they did it the rather, because the affairs of Sy- racuse were in some confusion upon the death of Hieronyrnusf its sovereign. On this account the Romans had already sent an army thither under the command of Appius Claudius.* The command devolving upon Marcellus, he was no sooner arrived in Sicily, than a great number of Romans came to throw themselves at his feet, and represent to him their distress. Of those that fought against Hannibal at Cannse, some escaped by flight, and others were taken prisoners; the latter in such numbers, that it was thought the Romans must want men to defend the walls of their capital. Yet that common- wealth had so much firmness and elevation of mind, that though Hannibal offered to release the prisoners for a very inconsiderable ransom, they refused it by a public act, and left them to be put to death or sold out of Italy. As for those that had saved themselves by flight, they sent them into Sicily, with an order not to set foot on Italian ground during the war with Hannibal. These came to Marcellus in a body, and falling on their knees, begged with loud lamentations and floods of tears, the favor of being admitted again into the army, promising to make it ap- pear by their future behavior, that that defeat was owing to their misfortune, and not to their cowardice. Marcellus, moved with compassion, wrote to the senate, desiring leave to recruit his army with these exiles, as he should find occa- sion. After much deliberation, the senate signi- fied by a decree, " That the commonwealth had no need of the service of cowards: that Marcel- lus, however, might employ them if he pleased, but on condition that he did not bestow upon any of them crowns, or other honorary rewards." This decree gave Marcellus some uneasiness, and after he returned from the war in Sicily, he expostulated with the senate, and complained, " That for all his services they would not allow him to rescue from infamy those unfortunate cit- izens." His first care, after he arrived in Sicily, was to make reprisals for the injury received from Hippo- crates the Syracusan general, who to gratify the Carthaginians, and by their means to set himself up had Claudius Nero, who was sent out to take a circuit and attack the Carthaginians in the rear, came up in time, that day would probably have made reprisals for the loss su&- tained at Cannae. Liv. 1. xxiv, 17. * In the second year of the hundred and forty-first Olym- piad, the five hundred and thirty-ninth of Rome, and iw hundred and twelve years before the birth of Christ. t Hieronymus was murdered by his own subjects at Leon- tium, the conspirators having prevailed upon Uino mane.", one of his guards, to favor their attack. He was the son of Gelo, and the grandson of Hiero. His father Gelo died first, and afterward his grandfather, being ninety years old; and Hieronymus, who was not then fifteen, was slain some months after. These thiee deaths happened toward the latter end of the year that preceded Marcellus's third consulate. t Appius Claudius, who was sent into Sicily, in qiiality of praetor, was there before the death of Hieronymus. That young prince, having a turn for raillery, only laughed at the Roman ambassadors: "I will ask you," said he, "but one question: Who were conquerors at Cannse, yon, or the Car- thaginians? I am told such surprising things of that battle, that I should be glad to know all the particulars of it." And again, "Let the Romans restore all the gold, the corn, and the other presents, that they drew from my grandfather, and consent that the river Himera be the common boundary between us, and 1 will renew the ancient treaties with them." Some writers are of opinion that the Roman praetor was not entirely unconcerned in a plot which was M useful to his republic. 216 PLUTARCH'S LIVES tyrant, had attacked the Romans, and killed great numbers of them, in the district of Leontiurn. Marcellus, therefore, laid siege to that city, and took it by storm, but did no harm to the inha- bitants; only such deserters as he found there he ordered to be beaten with rods, and then put to death. Hippocrates took care to give the Syracu- sans the first notice of the taking of Leontium, assuring them at the same time, that Marcellus had put to the sword all that were able to bear arms; and while they were under great consterna- tion at this news, he came suddenly upon the eity, and made himself master of it. Hereupon Marcellus marched with his whole army, and encamped before Syracuse. But be- fore he attempted anything against it, he sent ambassadors with a true account of what he had done at Leontium. As this information had no effect with the Syracusans, who were entirely in the power of Hippocrates,* he made his attacks both by sea and land. Appius Claudius com- manding the land forces, and himself the fleet, which consisted of sixty galleys, of five banks of oars, full of all sorts of arms and missive weapons. Beside these, he had a prodigious machine, carried upon eight galleys fastened together, with which he approached the walls, relying upon the num- ber of his bati lies, and other instruments of war, as well a on his own great character. But Archimedes despised all this; and confided in the superiority of his engines: though he did not think the inventing of them an object worthy of his serious studies, but only reckoned them among the amusements of geometry. Nor had he gone so far, but at the pressing instances of king Hiero, who entreated him to turn his art from abstracted notions to matters of sense, and to make his rea- sonings more intelligible to the generality of man- kind, applying them to the uses of common life. The first that turned their thoughts to mechanics, a branch of knowledge which came afterward to be so much admired, were Eudoxusand Archytas, who thus gave a variety and an agreeable turn to geometry, and confirmed certain problems by sensible experiments and the use of instruments, which could not be demonstrated in the way of theorem. That problem, for example, of two mean proportional lines, which cannot be found out geometrically, and yet is so necessary for the solution of other questions, they solved me- chanically, by the assistance of certain instru- ments called mesoiabes, taken from conic sections. But when Plato inveighed against them, with great indignation, as corrupting and debasing the excellence of geometry, by making her descend from incorporeal and intellectual to corporeal and sensible tilings, and obliging her to make use of matter, whicli requires much manual labor, and is the object of servile trades; then mechanics were separated from geometry, and being a long time despised by the philosopher, were considered as a branch of the military art. Be that as it may, Archimedes one day asserted to king Hiero, whose kinsman and friend he was, this proposition, that with a given power he could move any given weight whatever; nay, it is said, from the confidence he had in his demonstration, he ventured to affirm, that if there was another earth beside this we inhabit, by going into that, * Hieronymus being assassinated, and the commonwealth festered, Hippocrates and Epyoides, Hannibal's agents being of Syracusan extraction, had the address to getUiem- elves admitted into the numher of pnetors. Inconsequence of which they found means to embroil the Syracusans with Rome, in spite of the opposition of such of the praters as bad the interest of their country at heart. he would move thus wherever he pleased. Hiero, full of wonder, begged of him to evince the truth of his proposition, by moving some great weight with a small power. In compliance with which, Archimedes caused one of the king's gal- leys to be drawn on shore with many hands and much labor; and having well manned her, and put on board her usual loaoing, he placed himself at a distance, and without any pains, only moving with his hand the end of a machine, which con- sisted of a variety of ropes and pulleys, he drew her to him in as smooth and gentle a manner as if she had been under sail. The king, quite astonished when he saw the force of his art, pre- vailed with Archimedes to make for him all man- ner of engines and machines which could be used, either for attack or defense, in a siege. These, however, he never made use of, the greatest part of his reign being blessed with tranquillity; but they were extremely serviceable to the Syracusans on the present occasion, who with such a number of machines, had the inventor to direct them. When the Romans attacked them, both by sea and land, they were struck dumb with terror, imagining they could not possibly resist such numerous forces and so furious an assault. But Archimedes soon began to play his engines, and they shot against the land forces all sorts of missive weapons and stones of an enormous size, with so incredible a noise and rapidity, that nothing could stand before them ; they over- turned and crushed whatever came in their way, and spread terrible disorder throughout the ranks. On the side toward the sea were erected vast machines, putting forth on a sudden, over the walls, huge beams with the necessary tackle, which, striking with a prodigious force on the enemy's galleys, sunk them at once: while other ships hoisted up at the prows by iron grapples or hooks,* like the beaks of cranes, and set on end on the stern, were plunged to the bottom of the sea: and others again by ropes and grapples, were drawn toward the shore, and after being whirled about, and dashed against the rocks that projected below the walls, were broken to pieces, and the crews perished. Very often a ship lifted high above the sea, suspended and twirling in the air, presented a most dreadful spectacle. There it swung until the men were thrown out by the vio- lence of the motion, and then it split ag-ainst the walls, or sunk, on the engine's letting go its hold. As for the machine which Marcellus brought for- ward upon eight galleys, and which was called samhuca, on account of its likeness to the musical instrument of that name, while it was at a consi- derable distance from the walls, Archimedes dis- charged a stone of ten talents weight,! and after * What most harassed the Romans was a sort of crow with two claws, fastened to a Ion;* chain, which was let down by a kind of lever. The weight of the iron made it fall with great violence, and drove ft into the planks of the galleys. Then the besieged, by a great weight of lead at the other end of the lever, weighed it down, and conse- quently raised up the iron of the crow in proportion, and with it the prow of the galley to which it was fastened, sinking the poop at the same" time into the water. Afu this, the crow letting go its hold all on a sudden, the prow of the galley fell with such to whole vessel was filled with water and sunk. force into the sea, that the t It is not easy to conceive, how the machines formed by Archimedes could throw stones of ten quintals or taients, I that is, twelve hundred and fifty pounds' weight, at the ships of Marcellus, when they were at a considerable dis t.ance from the walls. The account which Polyuius give* us, is much more probable. He says, that the stones that were thrown by the btilistie made by Archimedes, were of the weight of ten pounds. Livy seems to agree with Po- lybius. Indeed, if we suppose that Plutarch did not mear the talent of an hundred and twenty-five pounds, but th talent of fcicily, which some say weighed twenty.fi* MARCELLUS. 217 that n second and a third, all which striking upon It with an amazing noise and force, shattered and totally disjointed it. Marcellus, in this distress, drew off his galleys as fast as possible, and sent orders to the land forces to retreat likewise. He then called a coun- cil of war, in which it was resolved to come close to the walls, if it was possible, next morning before day. For Archimedes's engines, they thought, being very strong, and intended to act at a considerable distance, would then discharge themselves over their heads; and if they were pointed at them when they were so near, they would have no effect. But for this Archimedes had long been prepared, having by him engines fitted to all distances, with suitable weapons and shorter beams. Beside, he had caused holes to be made in the walls, in which he placed scorpions, that did not carry far, but could be very fast dis- charged; and by these the enemy was galled, without knowing whence the weapon came. When, therefore, the Romans were got close to the walls, undiscovered as they thought, they were welcomed with a shower of darts, and huge pieces of rocks, which fell as it were perpendicu- larly upon their heads; for the engines played from every quarter of the walls. This obliged them to retire; and when they were at some dis- tance, other shafts were shot at them, in their retreat, from the larger machines, which made terrible havoc among them, as well as greatly damaged their shipping, without any possibility of their annoying the Syracusans in their turn. For Archimedes had placed most of his engines under covert of the walls; so that the Romans, be- ing infinitely distressed by an invisible enemy, seemed to fight against the gods. Marcellus, however, got off, and laughed at his own artillery-men and engineers. " Why do not we leave off contending," said he, "with this mathematical Briareus, who, sitting on the shore, and acting as it were but in jest, has shamefully baffled our navul assault: and, in striking us with such a multitude of bolts at once, exceeds even the hundred-handed giants in the fable?" And, in truth, all the rest of the Syracusans were no more than the body in the batteries of Archimedes, while he himself was the informing soul. All other weapons lay idle and unemployed; his were the only offensive and defensive arms of the city. At last the Romans were so terrified, that if they saw but a rope or a stick put over the walls, they cried out that Archimedes was leveling some machine at them, and turned their backs and fled. Marcellus seeing this, gave up all thoughts of proceeding by assault, and leaving the matter to time, turned the siege into a blockade. Yet Archimedes had such a depth of understand- ing, such a dignity of sentiment, and so copious a fund of mathematical knowledge, that, though in the invention of these machines he gained the repu f ation of a man endowed with divine, rather than human knowledge, yet he did not vouchsafe to leave any account of them in writing. For he Cjonsidered all attention to mechanics, and every art that ministers to common uses, as mean and sordid, and placed his whole delight in those intel- lectual speculations, which, without any relation to the necessities of life, have an intrinsic excel- lence arising from truth and demonstration only. Indeed, if mechanical knowledge is valuable for the curious frame and amazing power of those machines which it produces, the other infinitely pounds, and others only ten, his account comes more within the bounds of probability excels, on account of its invincible force and con- viction. And certain it is, that abstruse and pro- found questions in geometry, are nowhere solved by a more simple process and upon clearer princi- ples, than in the writings of Archimedes. Some ascribe this to the acuteness of his genius, and others to his indefatigable industry, by which he made things that cost a great deal of pains, ap- pear unlabored and easy. In fact, it is almost impossible for a man, of himself, to find out the demonstration of his propositions, but as soon a? he has learned it from him, he will think he could have done it without assistance: such a ready and easy way does he lead us to what he wants to prove. We aie not, therefore, to reject as in- credible, what is related of him, that being perpet- ually charmed by a domestic syren, that is, hip geometry, he neglected his meat and drink, and took no care of his person; that he was often car- ried by force to the baths, and when there, he would make mathematical figures in the ashes, and with his finger draw lines upon his body, when it was anointed: so much was he transport- ed with intellectual delight, such an enthusiast in science. And though he was the author of many curious and excellent discoveries, yet he is said to have desired his friends only to place on his tombstone a cylinder containing a sphere,* and to set down the proportion which the containing solid bears to the contained. Such was Archime- des, who exerted all his skill to defend himself ana the town against the Romans. During the siege of Syracuse, Marcellus went against Megara, one of the most ancient cities of Sicily, and took it. He also fell upon Hippocra- tes, as he was entrenching himself at Acrillge, and killed above eight thousand of his men.f Nay, he overran the greatest part of Sicily, brought over several cities from the Carthaginian interest, and beat all that attempted to face him in the f^eld. Sometime after, when he returned to Syra- cuse, he surprised one Damippus, a Spartan, as he was sailing out of the harbor; and the Syra- cusans being very desirous to ransom him, sev- eral conferences were held about it; in one of which Marcellus took notice of a tower but slight- ly guarded, into which a number of men might be privately conveyed, the wall that led to it be- ing easy to be scaled. As they often met to con- fer at the foot of this tower, he made a good es- timate of its bight, and provided himself with proper scaling ladders, and observing that on the * Cicero, when he was qnsestor in Sicily, discovered this monument, and showed it to the Syracnsa'ns, who knew not that it was in being. He says there were verses inscribed upon it, expressing that a cylinder and a sphere had been put upon the tomb; the proportion between which two solids, Archimedes first discovered. From the death of this great mathematician, which fell out in the year of Rome five hundred and forty-two, to the Q,ua:storship of Cicero, which was in the year of Rome six hundred and seventy-eight, a hundred and thirty-six years were elapsed. Though time had not quite obliterated the cylinder and the sphere, it had put an end to the learning of Syracuse, once so respectably in the republic of letters. f Himilco had entered the port of Heraclea with a nu- merous fleet sent from Carthage, and landed twenty-thoiu sand foot, three thousand horse, and twelve elephants His forces were no sooner set ashore than he marched against Agrigentum, which he retook from the Romans, with several oilier cities lately reduced by Marcellus. Hereupon the Syracusan garrison, which was yet entire, determined to send out Hippocrates with ten thousand foot, and fifteen hundred horse, to join Himilco. Marcellus, after having made a vain attempt upon Agrigentum, wai returning to Syracuse. As he drew near AerilliE, he un- expectedly discovered Hippocrates busy in fortifying his camp, fell upon him before he had time to draw up tua army, aud cut eight thousand of them in pieces. 218 PLUTARCH'S LIVES festival of Diana, the Syracusans drank freely and gave a loose to mirth, he not only possessed himself of the tower, undiscovered, but before daylight filled the walls of that quarter with sol- diers, and forcibly entered the Hexapylum. The Syracusans, as soon as they perceived it, began to move about in great confusion; but Marcellus or- dering ail the trumpets to sound at once, they were seized with consternation, and betook them- selves to flight, believing that the whole city was lost. However, the Achradina, which was the strongest, the most extensive, and fairest part of it, was not taken, being divided by walls from the rest of the city, one part of which was called Neapolis. and the other Tyche. The enterprise thus prospering, Marcellus, at daybreak, moved down from the Hexapylum into the city, where he was congratulated by his officers, on the great event.* But it is said, that he himself, when he surveyed from an eminence that great and mag- nificent city, shed many tears in pity of its im- pending fate, reflecting into what a scene of mis- ery and desolation its fair appearance would be changed, when it carne to be sacked and plun- dered by the soldiers. For the troops demanded the plunder, and not one of the officers durst op- pose it. Many even insisted that the city should be burned and leveled with the ground; but to this Marcellus absolutely refused his consent. It was with reluctance that he gave up the effects and the slaves; and he strictly charged the sol- diers not to touch any free man or woman, not to kill or abuse, or make a slave of any citizen whatever. But though he acted with so muchmoderation, the city had harder measure than he wished, and amidst the great and general joy, his soul sym- pathised with its sufferings, when he considered that in a few hours the prosperity of such aflourish- ing state would be no more. It is even said, that the plunder of Syracuse was as rich as thai of Car- thage after it.f For the rest of the city was * EpipolcE was entered in the night, and Tyche next morning. Epi poise was encompassed with the same wall as Ortygia, Achradina, Tyche, and Neapolis; had its own citadel, called fc^uryalum, on the top of a steep rock, and was, as we may say, a fifth city. t The siege of Syracuse lasted in the whole three years; no small part of which passed after Marcellus entered Tyche. As Plutarch has run so slightly over the subse- quent events, it may not be amiss to give a summary detail of them from Livy. Epicydes, who had his head-quarters in the farthest part of Urtygin, hearing that the Romans had seized on Epi- polae and Tyche, went to drive them from their posts: but finding much greater numbers than he expected got into the town, after a slight skirmish, he retired. Marcellus, to de- stroy the city, tried gentle methods with the inhabitants; but the Syracusans rejected his proposals, and their general appointed" the Roman deserters to guard Achradina, which they did with great care, knowing, that if the town were taken by composition, they must die. Mareellns then turned his arms agninst the fortress of Euryalum, which he hoped to reduce in a short time by famine. Philoilemus, who commanded there, kept him in play some time, in hope of succors from Hippocrates and Himilco; hut finding himself disappointed, he surrendered the place, on condi- tion of being allowed to march out with his men and join Epicydes. Marcellus, now master of Euryalum, blocked up Achradina so close, that it could not hold out long with- out new supplies of men and provisions. But Hippocrates and Himilco soon arrived; and it was resolved that Hippo- crates should attack the old camp of the Romans without the walls, commanded by Crispinus, while Epicydes sallied out upon Marcellus. Hippocrates was vigorously repulsed by Crispinus, who pursued him up to his entrenchments, and Epicydes was forced to return into Achradina with great loss, and narrowly escaped being taken prisoner by Marcellus. The unfortunate Syracusans were now in the greatest distress for want of provisions; and to complete their misery, a plague broke out among them; of which Himilco and Hippocrates died, with many thousands more. Hereupon, Bomilcar sailed to Carthage again for fresh snp- pl.es; and returned to Sicily with a large fleet; but hearing soon betrayed to the Romans, and pillaged: only the royal treasure was preserved, and carried into the public treasuiy at Rome. But what most of all afflicted Marcellus, was the unhappy fate of Archimedes; who was at that time in his study, engaged in some mathematical researches; and his mind, as well as his eye, was so intent upon his diagram, that, he neither heard the tumultuous noise of the Romans, nor perceived that the city was taken. A soldier sud- denly entered his room, and ordered him to follow him to Marcellus; and Archimedes refusing to do it, until he had finished his problem, and brought his demonstration to bear, the soldier, in a pas- sion, drew his sword and killed him. Others say, the soldier came up to him at first with a drawn sword to kill him, and Archimedes perceiving him, begged he would hold his hand a moment, that he might not leave his theorem imperfect; but the soldier, neither regarding him nor his theorem, laid him dead at his feet. A third ao- count of the matter is, that, as Archimedes was carrying in a box some mathematical instru- ments to Marcellus, as sundials, spheres, and quadrants, by which the eye might measure the magnitude of the sun, some soldiers met him, and imagining that there was gold in the box, took away his life for it. It is agreed, however, on all hands, that Marcellus was much concerned at his death; that he turned away his face from his murderer, as from an impious and execrable person; and that having by inquiry found out his relations, he bestowed upon them many sig- nal favors. Hitherto the Romans had shewn other nations their abilities to plan, and their courage to exe- cute, but they had given them no proof of their clemency, their humanity, or, in one word, of their political virtue. Marcellus seems to havB been the first who made it appear, to the Greeks, that the Romans had greater regard to equity than they. For such was his goodness to those that addressed him, and so many benefits did he confer upon cities, as well as private persons, that if Enna, Megara, and Syracuse were treated harshly, the blame of that severity was rather to be charged on the sufferers themselves, than on those who chastised them. I shall mention one of the many instances of this great man's moderation. There is in Sicily a town called Enguium, not large indeed, but very ancient, and celebrated for the appearance of the goddesses called the Mothers.* The temple of the great preparations of the Romans at sea, and proba- bly fearing the event of a battle, he unexpectedly steered away. Epicydes, who was gone out to meet him, was afraid to return into a city half taken, and therefore fled for refuge to Agrigentum. The Syracusans then assassinated the governors left by Epicydes, and proposed to submit to Marcellus. For" which puipose they sent deputies who were graciously received. But the garrison, which consisted of Roman deserters and mercenaries, raising fresh disturbances, killed the officers appointed by the Sy racusans, and chose six new ones of their own. Among these was a Spaniard named Mexicus, a man of grea integrity, who, disapproving of the cruelties of his party determined to give up the place to Marcellus. In purs a ance of which, under pretenses of greater care than ordi nary, he desired that each governor might have the sohe direction in his own quarter; which gave him an opportu- nity to open the gate of Arethusa to the Roman general, And now Marcellus, being at length become master of the unfaithful city, gave signal proofs of ^is clemency and good-nature. He suffered the Roman deserters to escape} for he was unwilling to shed the blood even of traitors. No wonder then if he spared the lives of the Syracusans and their children; though as he told them, the services which good king Hiero had rendered Rome were exceeded by the insults they had offered her in a few years. * These are supposed to be Cybele, Juno, and Ceres Cicero mentions a temple of Cybele at Enguium. M ARCE LLUS. 219 Is said to have been built by the Cretans, and I they show some spears and brazen helmets, inscribed with the names of Meriones and Ulysses, who consecrated them to those god- desses. This town was strongly inclined to favor the Carthaginians; but Nicias, one of its princi- pal Inhabitants, endeavored to persuade them to go over to the Romans, declaring his sentiments freely in their public assemblies, and proving that his opposers consulted not their true interests. These men fearing his authority and the influ- ence of his character, resolved to carry him off and put him in the hands of the Carthaginians. Nicias, apprised of it, took measures for his secu- rity, without seeming to do so. He publicly gave out unbecoming speeches against the Mothers, as if he disbelieved and made light of the received opinion concerning the presence of those god- desses there. Meantime, his enemies rejoiced that he himself furnished them with sufficient reasons for the worst they could do to him. On the day which they had fixed for seizing him, there happened to be an assembly of the people, and Nicias was in the midst of them, treating about some public business. But on a sudden he threw himself upon the ground, in the midst of his discourse, and, after having laid there some time without speaking, as if he had been in a trance, he lifted up his head, and turning it round, began to speak with a feeble, trembling voice, which he raised by degrees: and when he saw the whole assembly struck dumb with horror, he threw off his mantle, tore his vest in pieces, and ran half naked to one of the doors of the theater, crying out that he was pursued by the Mothers. From a scruple of religion no one durst touch or stop him; all, therefore, making way, he reached one of the city gates, though he no longer used any word or action, like one that was heaven-struck and distracted. Plis wife, who was in the secret, and assisted in the stratagem, took her children and went and prostrated her- self as a suppliant before the altar of the god- desses. Then pretending that she was going to seek her husband, who was wandering about in the fields, she met with no opposition, but got safe out of the town; and so both of them escaped to Marcellus at Syracuse. The people of ftnjriiium adiiing many other insults and mis- demeanors to their past faults, Marcellus came, and had them loaded with irons, in order to pun- ish them. But Nicias approached him with tears in his eyes, and kissing his hands and embracing his knees, asked pardon for all the citizens, and for his enemies first. Hereupon, Marcellus, relent- ing, set them all at liberty, and suffered not his troops to commit the least disorder in the city; at the same time he bestowed on Nicias a large tract of land and many rich gifts. These particulars we learn from Posidonius the Philosopher. Marcelius,* after this, being called home to a war in the heart of Italy, carried with him the most valuable of the statues and paintings in Sy- racuse, that they might embellish his triumph, and be an ornament to Rome. For before this time, that city neither had nor knew any curiosi- ties of this kind; being a stranger to the charms of taste and elegance. Full of arms taken from barbarous nations, and of bloody spoils, and crowned as she was with trophies and other monuments of her triumphs, she afforded not a cheerful and pleasing spectacle, fit for men * Marceilus, before he left Sicily, gained a considerable ictory over Epicydes and Hanno; he slew great numbers, and took mary prisoners, beside eight elephants. LAV. lib. XT. 40. brought up in ease and luxury, but her look was awful and severe. And as Epaminondas calls the plains of Boeotia the orcnestra, or stage of Mars, and Xenophou says Ephesus was the arsenal of war, so, in rny opinion (to use the expression of Pindar), one might then have styled Rome the temple of frowning MARS. Thus Marcellus was more acceptable to the people, because he adorned the city with curiosi- ties in the Grecian taste, whose variety, as well as elegance, was very agreeable to the spectator. But the graver citizens preferred Fabius Maximus, who, when he took Tare n turn, brought nothing of that kind away. The money, indeed, and other rich movables he carried off, but he let the statues and pictures remain, using this memorable ex- pression: Let us leave the Tarentines their angry deities. They blamed the proceedings of Marcel- lus, in the first place, as very invidious for Rome, because lie had led not only men, but the very gods in triumph; and their next charge was, that he had spoiled a people inured to agriculture and war, wholly unacquainted with luxury and sloth, and, as Euripides says of Hercules, In vice untaught, but skill'd where glory l*d To arduous; enterprise, by furnishing them with an occasion of idleness and vain discourse; for they now began to spend great part of the day in disputing about arts and artists. But notwithstanding such censures, this was the very thing that Marcellus valued himself upon, even to the Greeks themselves, that he was the first who taught the Romans to esteem and to admire the exquisite performances of Greece, which were hitherto unknown to them. Finding, at his return, that his enemies opposed his triumph, and considering that the war was not quite finished in Sicily, as well as that a third tri- umph might expose him to the envy of his fellow- citizens, he so far yielded as to content himself with leading up the greater triumph on mount Alba, and entering Rome with the less. The less is called by the Greeks evan, and by the Romans an ovation. In this the general does not ride in a triumphal chariot drawn by four horses, he is not crowned with laurel, nor has he trumpets sound- ing before him, but lie walks in sandals, attended with the music of many flutes, and wearing a crown of myrtle; his appearance, therefore, having nothing in it warlike, is rather pleasing than for- midable. This is to me a plain proof, that tri- umphs of old were distinguished, not by. the im- portance, of the achievement, but by the manner of its performance. For those that subdued their enemies by fighting battles and spilling much blood, entered with that warlike and dreadful pomp of the greater triumph, and, as is customary in the lustration of an army, wore crowns of lau- rel, and adorned their arms with the same. But when a general, without fighting, gained his point by treaty and the force of persuasion, the law decreed him this honor, called Ovation, which had more the appearance of a festival than of war. For the flute is an instrument used in time of peace; and the myrtle is the tree of Venus, who, of all the deities, is most averse to violence and war. Now the term ovation is not derived (as most authors think) from the word evan, which is uttered in shouts of joy, for they have the same shouts and songs in the other triumph; but the Greeks have wrested it to a word well known in their language, believing that this procession is intended in some measure in honor of Bacchus, whom they call Evius and Thriambus. The trutb 220 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. of the matter is this: it was customary for the generals, in the greater triumphs, to sacrifice an ox ; and in the less a sheep, in Latin ovis, whence the word ovation. On tins occasion it is worih our while to observe, how different the in- stitutions of the Spartan legislator were from those of the Roman, with respect to sacrifices. In Sparta, the general who put a period to a war by policy or persuasion, sacrificed a bullock; but he whose success was owing to force of arms, offered only a cock. For though they were a very war- like people, they thought it more honorable, and more worthy of a human being, to succeed by eloquence and wisdom, than by courage and force. But this point I leave to be considered by the reader. When Marcellus was chosen consul the fourth time, the Syracusans, at the instigation of his enemies, came to Rome to accuse him, and to complain to the senate, that he had treated them in a cruel manner, and contrary to the faith of treaties.* It happenned that Marcellus was at that time in the Capitol, offering sacrifice. The Syracusan deputies went immediately to the senate, who were yet sitting, and falling on their knees, begged of them to hear their complaints, and to do them justice: but the other consul re- pulsed them with indignation, because Marcellus was not there to defend himself. Marcellus, how- ever, being informed of it, came with all possible expedition, and having seated himself in his chair of state, first dispatched some public business as consul. When tiiat was over, he came down from his seat, and went as a private person to the place appointed for the accused to make their defense in, giving the Syracusans opportunity to make good their charge. But they were greatly con- founded to see the dignity a'nd unconcern with which he behaved; and he who had been irresisti- ble in arms, was still more awful and terrible to behold in his robe of purple. Nevertheless, en- couraged by his enemies, they opened the accusa- tion in a speech, mingled with lamentations, the sum of which was, "That though friends and allies of Rome, they had suffered more damage from Marcellus, than some other generals had permitted to be done to a conquered enemy." To this, Marcellus made answer,! "That, notwith- standing the many instances of their criminal behavior to the Romans, they had suffered nothing but what it is impossible to prevent, when a city is taken by storm; and that Syracuse was so taken, was entirely their own fault, because he had often summoned it to surrender, and they re- fused to listen to him. That, in short, they were not forced by their tyrants to commit hostilities, but they had themselves set up tyrants for the sake of going to war." The reasons of both sides thus heard, the Syra- cusans, according to the custom in that case, withdrew, and Marcellus went out with them, leaving it to his colleague to collect the votes. While he stood at the door of the senate-house,* he was neither moved with the fear of the issue of the cause, nor with resentment against the The Syracusans were scarce arrived at Rome, before the consul* drew lots tor their provinces, and Sicily fell to Marceilus. 1 his was a great stroke to the Syracusan cienu- ties, and they would not have dared to prosecute their charge, had not Marcellus voluntarily offered to change the provinces. t When the Syracusans had finished their accusations against Marcellm, his colleague, Lavinns, ordered them to withdraw; hut Marcellus desired they mi^ht stay and hear his defense. J While the cause was debating, he went to the capitol to lake the names of the new levies. Syracusans, so as to change his usual deportment, but with great mildness and decorum he waited for the event. When the cause was decided, and he was declared to have gained it,* the Syracu- sans fell at his feet, and besought him with tears to pardon not only those that were present, but to take compassion on the rest of their citizens, who would ever acknowledge with gratitude the favor. Marcellus, moved with their entreaties, not only pardoned the deputies, but continued his protection to the other Syracusans: and the senate, approving the privileges he had granted, con- firmed to them their liberty, their laws, and the possessions that remained to them. For this rea- son, beside other signal honors with which they distinguished Marcellus. they made a law, that whenever he or any of his descendants entered Sicily, the Syracusans should wear garlands, and offer sacrifices to the gods. After this, Marcellus marched against Hanni- bal. And though almost all the other consuls and generals, after the defeat at CannaB, availed them- selves of the single art of avoiding an engagement with the Carthaginian, and not one of them durst meet him fairly in the field, Marcellus took quite a different course. He was of opinion, that in- stead of Hannibal's being worn out by length of time, the strength of Italy would be insensibly wasted by him; and that the slow cautious max- ims of Fabius were not fit to cure the malady of his country; since, by pursuing them, the flames of war could not be extinguished, until Italy was consumed: just as timorous physicians neglect to apply strong though necessary remedies, thinking the distemper will abate with the strength of the patient. In the first place, he recovered the best towns of the Sarnnites, which hud revolted. In them he found considerable magazines of corn and a great quantity of money, beside making three thousand of Hannibal's men, who garrisoned them, priso- ners. In the next place, when Cneius Fulvius the proconsul, with eleven tribunes, was slain, and great part of his army cut in pieces, by Hannibal in Apulia, Marcellus sent letters to Rome, to ex- hort the citizens to be of good courage, for he himself was on his march to drive Hannibal ou of the country. The reading of these letters, Livy tells us, was so far from removing- their grief, that it added terror to it, the Romans reckoning the present danger as much greater than the past, as Marcellus was a greater man than Fulvius. Marcellus then going in quest of Hannibal, ac- cording to his promise, entered Lucania, and found him encamped on inaccessible bights near the city of Numistro. Marcellus himself pitched his tents on the plain, and the next day, was the first to draw up his forces in order of battle. Hannibal declined not the combat, but descended from the hills, and a battle ensued, which was not decisive indeed, but great and bloody : for though the action began at the third hour, it was with diffi- culty that night put a stop to it. Next morning, by break of day, Marceilus again drew up his army, and posting it among the dead bodies, chal- lenged Hannibal to dispute it with him for the victory. But Hannibal chose to draw off; and * The conduct of Mnrcellns, on the taking of Syracuse, was not entirely approved of at Rome. Some of the sena- tors, remembering the attachment which king Hiero had on all occasions shown to their republic, could not help con- demning their general for giving up the city to be plundered by his rapacious soldiers. The Synicusans were not in a condition to make good their party against an army of mer- cenaries; and therefore were obliged, against the'fr will, to yield to the times, and obey the ministers of Hannibal who commanded the army. MARCELLUS. 221 Marcellus, after he had gathered the spoils of the enemy, and buried his own dead, inarched in pur- suit of him. Though the Carthaginian laid many snares for him, he escaped them all; and having the advantage, too, in all skirmishes, his success was looked upon with admiration. Therefore, when the time of the next election came on, the senate thought proper to call the other consul out of Sicily, rather than draw off Marcellus, who was grappling with Hannibal. When he was arrived, they ordered him to declare Quintus Ful- vius dictator. For a DICTATOR is not named either by the people or the senate, but one of the consuls or prastors, advancing into the assembly, names whom he pleases. Hence some think, the term Dictator comes from dicere, which in Latin signi- fies to name: but others assert, that the Dictator is so called, because he refers nothing to plurality of voices, in the senate, or to the suffrages of the people, but gives his orders at his own pleasure. For the orders of magistrates, which the Greeks call diatagmata, the Romans call edicta, edicts. The colleague* of Marcellus was disposed to appoint another person dictator, and that he might not be obliged to depart from his own opinion, he left Rome by night, and sailed back to Sicily. The people, therefore, named Quintus Fulvius dictator, and the senate wrote to Marcellus to confirm the nomination, which he did accord- ingly. Marcellus was appointed proconsul for the year following: and having agreed with Fabius Maxi- mus the consul, by letters, that Fabius should be- siege Tarentum, while himself was to watch the motions of Hannibal, and prevent his relieving the place, he marched after him with all diligence, and came up with him at Canusium. And as Hannibal shifted his camp continually, to avoid Doming to a battle, Marcellus watched him closely and took care to keep him in sight. At last, coming up with him as he was encamping, he so harassed him with skirmishes, that he drew him to an engagement; but night soon came on, and parted the combatants. Next morning early, lie drew his army out of the entrenchments, and put them in order of battle; so that Hannibal, in great vexation, assembled the Carthaginians, and begged of them to exert themselves more in lhat battle than ever they had done before. "For you see," said he " that we can neither take breath, after so many victories already gained, nor enjoy the least leisure if we are victorious now, unless this man be driven off." After this, a battle ensued, in which Marcellus seems to have miscarried by an unseasonable movement.f For seeing his right wing hard pressed, he ordered one of the legions to advance to the front, to support them. This movement put the whole army in disorder, and decided the day in favor of the enemy; two thousand seven hundred Romans being slain upon the spot. Mar- cellus retreated into his camp, and having sum- moned his troops together, told them, "He saw the arms and bodies of Romans in abundance be- fore him, but not one Roman." On their beg- ging pardon, he said, "He would not forgive them * Laevinus, who was the colleague of Marcellus, wanted to name M. Valerius Messala, dictator. As he left Rome abruptly, and enjoined the pra:tor not to name Fulvius, the tribunes of the people took upon them to do it, and the lenate got the nomination confirmed by the consul Mar- oellus. t The movement was not unseasonable, but ill executed. Livy says, the right wing gave way faster than they needed to have done: and the eighteenth legion, which was ordered U> advance from rear to front, moved too slowly; this occa- toned the disorder. while vanquished, but when they came to be vic- torious he would, and that he would lead them into the field again next day, that the news of the victory might reach Rome before that of their flight." Before he dismissed them, he gave order* that barley should be measured out instead of wheat,*to those companies that had turned the'r backs. His reprimand made such an impression on them, that though many were dangerously wounded, there was not a man who did not feel more pain from the words of Marcellus, than ha did from his wounds. Next morning, the scarlet robe, which was the ordinary signal of battle, was hung out betimes; aud the companies that had come off with dis- honor before, obtained leave, at their earnest re- quest, to be posted in the foremost line: after which the tribunes drew up the rest of the troops in their proper order: When this was reported to Hannibal, he said, "Ye gods, what can one do with a man, who is not affected with either good 01 bad fortune? This is the only man who will neither give any time to rest when he is victo- rious, nor take any when he is beaten. We must even resolve to fight with him forever; since whether prosperous or unsuccessful, a principle of honor leads him on to new attempts and farther exertions of courage." Both armies then engaged, and Hannibal seeing no advantage gained by either, ordered his ele- phants to be brought forward into the first line, and to be pushed against the Romans. The shock caused great confusion at first in the Ro- man front; but, Flavius, a tribune, snatching an ensign staff from one of the companies, advanced, and with the point of it wounded the foremost elephant. The beast upon this turned back and ran upon the second, the second upon the next that followed, and so on until they were all putin great disorder. Marcellus observing this, order- ed his horse to fall furiously upon the enemy, and taking advantage of the confusion already made, to rout them entirely. Accordingly they charged with extraordinary vigor, and drove the Carthaginians to their entrenchments. The slaughter was dreadful; and the fall of the killed and the plunging of the wounded elephants, contri- buted greatly to it. It is said that more than eight thousand Carthaginians fell in this battle; of the Romans not above three thousand were slain, but almost all the rest were wounded. This gave Hannibal opportunity to decamp silent- ly in the night, and remove to a great distance from Marcellus, who, by reason of the number of his wounded, was not able to pursue him, but retired by easy marches, into Campania, and pass- ed the summer in the city of Sinuessa,f to recover and refresh his soldiers. Hannibal, thus disengaged from Marcellus, made use of his troops, now at liberty, and secure- ly overran the country, burning and destroying all before him. This gave occasion to unfavor- able reports of Marcellus at Rome; and his ene- mies incited Publius Bibulus, one of the tribunes of the people, a man of violent temper, and a ve- hement speaker, to accuse him in form. Accord- ingly Bibulus often assembled the people; and endeavored to persuade them to take the command from him, and give it to another; "Since Mar- * This was a common punishment. Beside which, h ordered that the officers of those companies should continue all day long with their swords drawn, and without their gir dies. Liv. 1. xxvii, 13. t Livy says in Venusia, which being much nearer Cann- sium, was more convenient for the wounded men to retire to. PLUTARCH'S LIVES cellus," said he, "has only exchanged a few thrusts with Hannibal, and then left the stage, and is gone to the hot baths to refresh himself."* When Marcellus was apprised of these prac- tices against him, he left his army in charge with his lieutenants, and went to Rome to make his defense. On his arrival, he found an impeach- ment framed out of those calumnies. And the day fixed for it being come, and the people as- sembled in the Flarninian Circus, Bibulus ascend- ed the tribune's seat, and set forth his charge. Marcellus's answer was plain and short: but many persons of distinction among the citizens exerted themselves greatly and spoke with much freedom, exhorting the people not to judge worse of Mar- cellus than the enemy himself had done, by fixing a mark of cowardice upon the only general whom Hannibal shunned, and used as much art and care to avoid fighting with, as he did to seek the corn- bat with others. These remonstrances had such an effect, that the accuser was totally disappoint- ed in his expectations, for Marcellus was not only acquitted of the charge, but a fifth time chosen consul. As soon as he had entered upon his office, he visited the cities of Tuscany, and by his personal influence allayed a dangerous commotion, that tended to a revolt. At his return, he was desi- rous to dedicate to HONOR and VIRTUE, the tem- ple which he had built out of the Sicilian spoils, but was opposed by the priests, who would not consent that two deities should be contained in one temple.f Taking this opposition ill, and con- sidering it as ominous, he began another temple. There were many other prodigies that gave him uneasiness. Some temples were struck with lightning; in that of Jupiter rats gnawed the gold; it was even reported that an ox spoke, and that there was a child living which was born with an elephant's head: and when the expiation of these prodigies was attempted, there were no tokens of success. The Augurs, therefore, kept him in Rome, notwithstanding his impatience and eager- ness to be gone. For never was a man so passionately desirous of anything as he was of fighting a decisive battle with Hannibal. It was his dream by night, the subject of conversation all day with his friends and colleagues, and his sole request to the gods, that he might meet Hannibal fairly in the field. Nay, I verily believe, that he would have been glad to have had both armies sur- rounded with a wail or entrenchment, and to have fought in that enclosure. Indeed, had he not already attained to such a hight of glory, had he aot given so many proofs of his equaling the best generals in prudence and discretion, I should think he gave way to a sanguine and extravagant ambition, unsuitable to his years; for he was above sixty when he entered upon his fifth con- sulate. At last the expiatory sacrifices being such as the soothsayers approved, he set out with his col- league, to prosecute the war, and fixed his camp between Bantia and Venusia. There he tried every method to provoke Hannibal to a battle, * There were hot baths near Sinnessa, but none near Venusia. Therefore, if Marcellus went to the latter place, the satirical stroke was not applicable. Accordingly, Livy does not apply it: he only makes Bibulus say, that Marcel- lus passed the suiimer in quarters. t They said, if the temple should be struck with thunder and lightning, or any other prodigy should happen to it, that wanted expiation, they should not know to which of the deities they ought to offer the expiatory sacrifice. Marcel- lus, therefore, to satisfy the priest, began another temple, and the work was carried on with great diligence; but he did not live to dedicate it. His son consecrated both the temples about four years af er. which he constantly declined. But the Cartha ginian perceiving that the consuls had ordered some troops to go and lay siege to the city of the Epizephirians, or western Locrians,* he laid an ambuscade on their way, under the hill of Petelia, and killed two thousand five hundred of them This added stings to Marcellus's desire of an en- gagement, and made him draw nearer to the enemy. Between the two armies was a hill, which af- forded a pretty strong post; it was covered with thickets, and on both sides were hollows, from whence issued springs and rivulets. The Ro- mans were surprised that Hannibal, who came first to so advantageous a place, did not take pos- session of it, but left it for the enemy. He did, indeed, think it a good place for a camp, but a better for an ambuscade, and to that use he chose to put it. He filled, therefore, the thickets and hollows with a good number of archers aud spear- men, assuring himself that the convenience of the post would draw the Romans to it. Nor was he mistaken in his conjecture. Presently nothing was talked of in the Roman army, but the expe- diency of seizing this hill; and, as if they had been all generals, they set forth the many advan- tages they should have over the enemy, by en- camping, or, at least, raising a fortification upon it. Thus Marcellus was induced to go with a few horse to take a view of the hill; but, before he went, he offered sacrifice. In the first victim that was slain, the diviner showed him the liver without a head; in the second, the head was very plump and large, and the other tokens appearing re- markably good, seemed sufficient to dispel the fears of the first; but the diviners declared, they were the more alarmed on that very account; for when favorable signs, on a sudden, follow threat- ening and inauspicious ones, the strangeness of the alteration should rather be suspected. But as Pindar says, Nor fire, nor walls of triple brass Control the high behests of Fate. He therefore set out to view the place, taking with him his colleague Crispinus, his son Mar- cellus, who was a tribune, and only two hundred and twenty horse, among whom there was not one Roman; they were all Tuscans, except forty Fregellanians, of whose courage and fidelity he had sufficient experience. On the summit of the hill, which, as we said before, was covered with trees and bushes, the enemy had placed a sentinel, who, without being seen himself, could see every movement in the Roman camp. Those that lay in ambush having intelligence from him of what was doing, lay close, until Marcellus came very near, and then all at once rushed out, spread themselves about him, let fly a shower of arrows, aud charged him with their swords and spears. Some pursued the fugitives, and others attacked those that stood their ground. The latter were the Fregellanians; for, the Tuscans taking to flight at the first charge, the others closed together in a body to defend the consuls; and they con- tinued the fight until Crispinus, wounded with two arrows, turned his horse to make his escape, and Marcellus being run through between the shoulders with a lance, fell down dead. Then the few Fregellanians that remained, leaving the body of Marcellus, carried off his son, who was wounded, and fled with him to the camp. * There was not a detachment from the forces of the con- suls, which they did not choose to weaken when in the sight of such an enemy as Hannibal. It consisted of troops drawn from Sicily, and'from the garri*on of Tarentum. PELOPIDAS AND MARCELLUS COMPARED. 223 In thin p^Kn^h fbere were not many more than forty men Killed; eighteen were taken pris- oners, bcsi'ie n-e lictors. Crispinus died of his wounds a few days after.* This was a most un- paralleled misfortune: the Romans lost both the consuls in one action. Hannibal made but little account of the rest, but when he knew that Marcellus was killed, he hastened to the place, and, standing over the body a long time, surveyed its size and mien: but with- out speaking one insulting word, or showing the least sign of joy, which might have been expected at the fall of so dangerous and formidable an enemy. He stood, indeed, awhile astonished at the strange death of so great a man; and at last taking his signet from his finger,! he caused his body to be magnificently attired and burned, and the ashes to be put in a silver urn, and then placed a crown of gold upon it, and sent it to his son. But certain Numidians meeting those that carried the urn, attempted to take it from them, and as the others stood upon their guard to defend it, the ashes were scattered in the struggle. When Hannibal was informed of it, he said to those who were about him, You see it is impossible to do any- iking ayainsl the will of God. He punished the Numidians, indeed, but took no further care about collecting and sending the remains of Marcellus, believing that some deity had ordained that Mar- cellus should die in so strange a manner, and that his ashes should be, denied burial. This account of the matter we have from Cornelius Nepos, and Valerius Maximus; but Livyt and Augustus Cffi- sar affirm, that the urn was carried to his son, and that his remains were interred with great magni- ficence. Marcellus's public donations, beside those he dedicated at Rome, were a Gymnasium, which he built at Cataua in Sicily, and several statues and paintings, brought from Syracuse, which he set up in the temple of the Cabiri in Simothrace, and in that of Minerva at Lindus. In the latter of these, the following verses, as Posidonius tells us, were inscribed on the pedestal of his statue: The light of Rome, Marcellus, here behold. For birth, for deeds of arms, by fame enrolled. Seven times his fasces graced the martial plain, And by his thundering arm were thousands slain. The author of this inscription adds to his five consulates the dignity of proconsul, with which he was twice honored. His posterity continued in great splentior down to Marcellus, the son of Caius Marcellus and Octavia the sister of Augns- tus. He died very young, in the office of adile, soon after he had married Julia, the Emperor's daughter. To do honor to his memory, Octavia dedicated to him a library,]] and Augustus a thea- ter, and both these public works bore his name. PELOPIDAS AND MARCELLUS COMPARED. THESE are the particulars which we thought ^vorth reciting from history concerning Marcellus and Pelopidas; between whom there was a perfect As to their achievements, among those of Mar- cellus there was none greater or more illustrious than his beating such an army of Gauls, both horse and foot, with a handful of horse only, of resemblance in the gifts of nature, and in their lives and manners. For they were both men of j which you will scarce meet with another instance, heroic strength, capable of enduring the greatest j and his slaying their prince with his own hand, fatigue, and in courage and magnanimity they ' Pelopidas hoped to have done something of the were equal. The sole difference is, that Marcel- j like nature, but miscarried and lost his life in the lus, in most of the cities which he took by assault, attempt. However, the great and glorious battles committed great slaughter, whereas Epaminondas j of Leuctra and TegyraB may be compared with and Pelopidas never spilt the blood of any man ! these exploits of Marcellus. And, on the other they had conquered, nor enslaved any city they j hand, there is nothing of Marcellus's effected by had taken. And it is affirmed, that if they had ! stratagem and surprise, which can be set against been present, the Thebans would not have de- the happy management of Pelopidas, at his return prived the Orchomeuians of their liberty. from exile, iu taking off the Theban tyrants. i Indeed, of all the enterprises of the secret hand of * He did not. die until the latter end of the year, having named T. Manlius Torquatus, dictator, to hold'the comitia. Some say he died at Tarentum; others in Campania. t Hannibal imagined he should have some opportunity or art, that was the masterpiece. If it be said that Hannibal was a formidable enemy to the Romans, the Lacedaemonians were other of making use of this seal to his advantage. But I certainly the same to the Thebans. And yet it is Crispinus dispatched messengers to all the neighboring i agreed on all hands, that they were thoroughly iftia^ rf fi3BSSS"^?JK 4*" ^ Pel r das : L I fe t ,? Bd T^' ecaution preserved Salapia, in Apulia. Nay, the inhala- nts lurried the artifice of the Carthaginian upon himself. pre tants turne te artce o te artaginian upo For admitting, upon a letter sealed with that ring, six hun- dred of Hannibal's men, most of them Roman deserters, into the town, they on a sudden pulled up the draw-bridges, cut in pieces those who had entered, and, with a shower of darts from the ramparts, drove back the rest. Liv. 1 xxvii e. 28. t Livy tells us that Hannibal buried the body of Marcel- kis on the hill where he was slain. His family continued after his death an hundred and eighty-five years; for he was slain in the first yenr of the hunured and forty-third Olympiad, in the five hundred and forty-fifth year of Rome, and two hundred and six years before the Christian era; and young Marcellus died in the second year of the hundred and eighty-ninth Olympiad, auc 1 seven hundred and thirtieth of Rome. A According to Suetonius and Dion, it was not Octavia but Augustus that dedicated this library. whereas, according to Polybius, Hannibal wan never once defeated by Marcellus, but continued invincible until he had to do with Scipio. How- ever, we rather believe with Livy, Caesar, and Cornelius Nepos, among the Latin historians, and with king Juba* among the Greeks, that Marcel- lus did sometimes beat Hannibal, and even put his troops to flight, though he gained no advan- tage of him sufficient to turn the balance consid- erably on his side: so that one might even think, * This historian was the son of Jnba, king of Nnmidia, who, in the civil war, sided with Pompey, and was slain by retrius in single combat. The son, "mentioned here, wa brought in triumph by Casar to Rome, where he was edu cated in the learning of the Greeks and Romans. 224 PLUTARCH'S LIT ES. that the Carthaginian then acted with the art of a wrestler, who sometimes suffers himself to be thrown. But what has been very justly admired in Marcellus is, that after such great armies had been routed, so many generals slain, and the whole empire almost totally subverted, he found means to inspire his troops with courage enough to make head against the enemy. He was the only man that, from a state of terror and dismay, in which they had long remained, raised the army to an eagerness for battle, and infused into them such a spirit, that, far from tamely giving up the victory, they disputed it with the greatest obsti- nacy. For those very men, who had been accus- tomed by a run of ill success to think themselves happy if they could escape Hannibal by flight, were taught by Marcellus to be ashamed of corn- ing off with disadvantage, to blush at the very thought of giving way, and to be sensibly affected, if they gained not the victory. As Pelopidas never lost a battle in which he commanded in person, and Marcellus won more than any Roman of his time, he who performed so many exploits, and was so hard to conquer, may perhaps, be put on a level with the other, who was never beaten. On the other hand, it may be observed, that Marcellus took Syracuse, whereas Pelopidas failed in his attempt upon Sparta, yet I think even to approach Sparta, and ! to be the first that ever passed the Eurotas in a hostile manner, was a greater achievement than the conquest of Sicily; unless it may be said, that the honor of this exploit, as well as that of Leuc- tra, belongs rather to Epaminondas than to Pe- lopidas, whereas the glory Marcellus gained was entirely his own. For he alone took Syracuse; he defeated the Gauls without his colleague; he made head against Hannibal, not only without the assistance, but against the remonstrances, of the other generals; and, changing the face of war, he first taught the Romans to meet the enemy with a good countenance. As for their deaths, I praise neither the one nor the other; but it is with concern and indignation that I think of the strange circumstances that attended them. At the same time I admire Han- nibal, who fought such a number of battles as it would be a labor to reckon, without ever receiving a wound: and I greatly approve the behavior of Chrysantes, iu the Cyropcedia, who, having his sword lifted up and ready to strike, upon hearing the trumpets sound a retreat, calmly and modestly retired without giving the stroke. Pelopidas, however, was somewhat excusable, because he was not only warmed with the heat of battle, but incited by a generous desire of revenge. And, ax Euripides says, The first of chiefs is he who laurels gains, And buys them not with Hie: the next is he Who dies, but dies in Virtue's arms In such a man, dying is a free and voluntary act, not a passive submission to fate. But, beside his resentment, the end Pelopidas proposed to himself in conquering, which was the death of a tyrant, with reason animated him to uncommon efforts; for it was not easy to find another cause so great and glorious wherein to exert him.selL But Marcellus, without any urgent occasion, with- out that enthusiasm which often pushes men be- yond the bounds of reason in time of dangers unadvisedly exposed himself, and died not like a general, but like a spy; risking his five consulates^ his three triumphs, his trophies and spoils of kings, against a company of Spaniards and Nu- midians, who had bartered with the Carthaginians for their lives and services. An accident -so strange, that those very adventurers could not forbear grudging themselves such success, when they found that a man the most distinguished of all the Romans for valor as well as power and fame, had fallen by their hands, amidst a scouting party of Fregellanians. Let not this, however, be deemed an accusation against these great men, but rather a complaint to them of the injury done themselves, by sacri- ficing all their other virtues to their intrepidity, and a free expostulation with them for being so prodigal of their blood as to shed it for their own sakes, when it ought to have fallen only for their country, their friends, and their allies. Pelopidas was buried by his friends, in whose cause he was slain, and Marcellus by those enemies that slew him. The first was a happy and desira- ble thing, but the other was greater and more extraordinary; for gratitude in a friend, for bene- fits received, is not equal to an enemy's admiring the virtue by which he suffers. In the first case, there is more regard to interest than to merit; in the latter, real worth is the sole object of the ho- nor paid. ARISTIDES. ARISTIDES, the son of Lysimachus, was of the tribe of Antiochus, and the ward of Alopece. Of his estate we have different accounts. Some made the year bear his name; and which fell to him by lot; and for this, none took their chance but such as had an income of the first degree, he was always very poor, and that he left j consisting of five hundred measures of corn, wine, two daughters behind him, who remained a long j and oil, who therefore, were called Pentacosio- - unmarried, on account of their poverty.* medimni. The second argument is founded on But Demetrius the Phalerean contradicts this the Ostracism, by which he was banished, and general opinion in his Socrates, and says there which was never inflicted on the meaner sort, was a farm at Phalera which went by the name J but only upon persons of quality, whose grand- ot Anstides, and that there he was buried. And j eur and family pride made them obnoxious to trre to prove that there was a competent estate in I people. The third and last is drawn from the his family, he produces three arguments. The Tripods, which Aristides dedicated in the temple fir*t is taken from the office of archon.f which of Bacchus, on account of his victory in the pub- * And yet, according to a law of Solon's, the bride was Io carry with her only three suits of clothes, and a little household stuff of small value. t At Athens they reckoned their years by Jlrchvns, as the Romans did theirs by Consuls. One of the nine Ar- ehons, who all had estates of the first degree, was for this purpose chosen by lot out of the rest, and his name IB scribed in the public registers. ARISTIDES. 225 He games, and which are still to be seen, with , this inscription, "The tribe of Antiochus gained I the victory, Aristides defrayed the charges, and J Archestratus was the author of the play." But this last argument, though in appearance the strongest of all, is really a very weak one. For Epuminondas, who, as everybody knows, lived and died poor, and Plato the philoso- pher, who was not rich, exhibited very splendid shows: the one was at the expense of a concert of flutes at Thebes, and the other of an entertain- ment of singing and dancing, performed by boys at Athens, Dion having furnished Plato with the money, and Pelopidas supplied Epuminondas. For why should good men be always averse to the presents of their friends? While they think it mean and ungenerous to receive anything for themselves, to lay up, or gratify an avaricious temper, they need not refuse such offers as serve the purposes of honor and magnificence, without any views of profit. As to the Tripods, inscribed with ARISTIDES, Panoetius shows plainly that Demetrius was de- ceived by the name. For, according to the re- gisters, from the Persian to the end of the Pelo- ponnesian war, there were only two of the name of Aristides who carried the prize in the choral exhibitions, and neither of them was the son of Ly- simachus: for the former was son to Xenophilus, and the latter lived long after, as appears from the characters, which were not in use until after Euclid's time, and likewise from the name of the poet Archestratus, which is not found in any record or author during the Persian wars; where- as mention is often made of a poet of that name, who brought his pieces upon the stage in the time of the Peloponnesian war.* But this argu- ment of Panaetius should not he admitted without further examination. And as for the Ostracism, every man that was distinguished by birth, reputation, or eloquence, was liable to suffer by it; since it fell even upon Damon, preceptor to Pericles, because he was looked upon as a man of superior parts and policy. Beside, Idomeneus tells us, that Aristi- des came to be Archon, not by lot, but by particu- lar appointment of the people. And if lie was Archon after the battle of Plataja,f as Demetrius himself writes, it is very probable that, after such great actions, and so much glory, his virtue might gain him that office, which others obtained by their wealth. But it is plain that Demetrius la- bored to take off the imputation of poverty, as if it were some great evil, not only from Aristides, but from Socrates too; who, he says, beside a house of his own, had seventy minae+ at interest in the hands of Crito. Aristides had a particular friendship for Clis- thenes, who settled the popular government at Athens, after the expulsion of the tyrants;^ yet he had, at the same time, the greatest veneration for Lycurgus, the Lacedemonian, whom he con- sidered as the most excellent of lawgivers: and * It is very possible for a poet, in his own life-time, to have his plays acted in the Peloponnesian war, and in the Persian too. And, therefore, the inscription which Plu- .arch mentions might belong to our Aristides. t But Demetrius was mistaken; for Aristides was never Archon after the battle of Platiea, which was fought in the second year of the seventy-fifth Olympiad. In the list of Archons, the name of Aristides is found in the fourth of the seventy-second Olympiad, a year or two after the battle of Marathon, and in the second year of the seventy-fourth Olympiad, four years before the battle of Plataea. j But Socrates himself declares, in his apology to his ,udges, that, considering his poverty, they could not in reason fine him more than one mina. } These tyrants were the Pisistratidze, who were driven m about the sixty-sixth Olympiad. 15 this led him to be a favorer of aristocracy, In which he was always opposed by Themistocles, who listed in the party of the commons. Some, indeed, say, that, being brought up together from their infancy, when boys, they were always at variance, not only in serious matters, but in their very sports and diversions: and their tempers were discovered from the first by that opposition. The one was insinuating, daring, and artful; variable, and at the same time impetuous in his pursuits: the other was solid and steady, inflexi- bly just, incapable of using any falsehood, flat- tery, or deceit, even at play. But Aristo of Chios* writes, that their enmity, which afterward came to such a night, took its rise from love. ***** ***** Themistocles, who was an agreeable compan- ion, gained many friends, and became respectable in the strength of his popularity. Thus when he was told, that "he would govern the Athenians extremely well, if he would but do it without respect of persons," he said, "May I never sit on a tribunal where my friends shall not find more favor from me than strangers." Aristides, on the contrary, took a method of his own in conducting the administration. For he would neither consent to any injustice to oblige his friends, nor yet disoblige them by denying all they asked: and as he saw that many, depending on their interest and friends, were tempted to do unwarrantable things, he never endeavored after that support, but declared, that a good citizen should place his whole strength and security in advising and doing what is just and right. Nevertheless, as Themistocles made many rash and dangerous motions, and endea- vored to break his measures in every step of go- vernment, he was obliged to oppose him as much in his turn, partly by way of self-defense, and partly to lessen his power, which daily increased through the favor of the people. For he thought it better that the commonwealth should miss some advantages, than that Themistocles by gaining his point, should come at last to carry all before him. Hence it was one day when Themistocles proposed something advantageous to the public, Aristides opposed it strenuously, and with success; but as he went out of the assembly, he could not forbear saying, "The af- fairs of the Athenians cannot prosper, except they throw Themistocles and myself into the bara- thrum."! Another time, when he intended to propose a decree to the people, he found it strong- ly disputed in the council, but at last he prevailed: perceiving its inconveniences, however, by the preceding debates, he put a stop to it, just as the president was going to put it to the question, in order to its being confirmed by the people. Very often he offered his sentiments by a third person, lest, by the opposition of Themistocles to him, tha public good should be obstructed. In the changes and fluctuations of the govern- ment, his firmness was wonderful. Neither ela- ted with honors, nor discomposed with ill success, he went on in a moderate and steady manner, persuaded that his country had a claim to hia services, without the reward either of honor or profit. Hence it was, that when those verses of ^Eschylus concerning Amphirseus were repeated on the stage, * Dacier thinks it was rather Aristo of Ceos, because, ai a peripatetic, he was more likely to write treatises of lov than the other, who was a stoic. t The barathrum was a very deep pit, into w'aich COB* demned persons were thrown headlong. 226 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. To be, and not to seem, is this man's maxim; His mind reposes on its proper wisdom, And wants no other praise,* the eyes of. the people in general were fixed on Aristides, as the man to whom this great enco- mium was most applicable. Indeed, he was ca- pable of resisting the suggestions, not only of favor and affection, but of resentment jind enmi- ty too, wherever justice was concerned. For it is said, that when he was carrying on a prosecu- tion against his enemy, and after he had brought his charge, the judge* were going to pass sentence, without hearing the person accused, he rose up to his asistance, entreating that he might be heard, and have the privilege which the laws allowed. Another time, when he himself sat judge between two private persons, and one of them observed, "That his adversary had done many injuries to AristiJes." "Tell me not that," said he, "but what injury he has done to thee; for it is thy cause I am judging, not my own." When appointed public treasurer, he made it appear, that not only those of his time, but the officers that preceded him, had applied a great deal of the public money to their own use; and oarticularly Themistocles: For he with all his wisdom, Could ne'er command his hands. For this reason, when Aristides gave in his ac- counts, Themistocles raised a strong party against him, accused him of misapplying the public mo- ney, and (according to Idorneneus) got him con- demned. But the principal and most respectable of the citizens,! incensed at this treatment of Aristides, interposed and prevailed, not only that lie might be excused the fine, but chosen again chief treasurer. He now pretended thai his for- mer proceedings were too strict, and carrying a a gentler hand over those that acted under him. suffered them to pilfer the public money, without seeming to find them out; or reckoning strictly with them; so that, fattening on the spoils of their country, they lavished their praises on Aristides, and, heartily espousing his cause, begged of the people to continue him in the same department. But when the Athenians were going to confirm him by their suffrages, he gave them this severe rebuke: "While I managed your finances with all the fidelity of an honest man, I was loaded with cal- umnies; and now when I suffer them to be a prey to public robbers, I am become a mighty good citizen: but I assure you, I am more ashamed of the present honor, than I was of the former dis- grace; and it is with indignation and concern that I see you esteem it more meritorious to oblige ill men, than to take proper care of the public reve- nue." By thus speaking and discovering their frauds, he silenced those that recommended him with so much noise and bustle, but at the same time received the truest and most valuable praise from the worthiest of the citizens. About this time Datis, who was sent by Darius under the pretense of chastising the Athenians for burning Sardis, but in reality to subdue all Greece, arrived with his fleet at Marathon, and began to ravage the neighboring country. Among the generals to whom the Athenians gave the management of this war, Miltiades was first in dignity, and the next to him, in reputation and authority, was Aristides. In a council of war that was then held, Miltiades voted for giving the * These verses are to he found in the " Siege of Thehes by the seven Captains." They are a description of the genius and temper of Amphiar;ius, which the courier, who Brings an account of the enemy's attacks, and of the char- acters of the commanders, gives to Eteocles. t The court ol Areopagus interpoted in his behalf. enemy battle.* and Aristi;.'es seconding him, added no little, weight to his scale. The general* commanded by turns, each his day; but when it came to Aristides's turn, he gave up his right to Miltiades; thus showing his colleagues that it was no disgrace to follow the directions of the wise, but that, on the contrary, it answered several honorable and salutary purposes. By this means, he laid the spirit of contention, and bringing them to agree in, and follow the best opinion, he strengthened the hands of Miltiades, who now had the absolute and undivided command; the other generals no longer insisting on their days, but entirely submitting to his orders.f In this battle, the main body of the Athenian army was pressed the hardest,}: because there, for a long time, the barbarians made their greatest efforts against the tribes Leontis and Antiochis; and Themistocles and Aristides, who belonged to those tribes, exerting themselves, at the head of them, with all the spirit of emulation, behaved with so much vigor, that the enemy were put to flight, and driven bav.k to their ships. But the Greeks perceiving that the barbarians, instead of sailing to the isles, to return to Asia, were driven in, by the wind and currents, toward Attica, and fearing that Athens, unprovided for its defense, might become an easy prey to them, marched home with nine tribes, and used such expedition, that they reached the city in one day.|| Aristides was left at Marathon with his own tribe, to guard the prisoners and the spoils; and he did not disappoint the public opinion; for though there was much gold and silver scattered about, and rich garments and other booty in abundance were found in the tents and ships which they had taken, yet he neither had an inclination t6 touch anything himself, nor permitted others to do it. But, notwithstanding his care, some enriched themselves unknown to him: among whom was Callias, the torch-bearer.f One of the barbarians happening to meet him in a private place, and probably taking him for a king, on account of his long hair and the fillet which he wore,** pros- * According to Herodotus (1. vi, c. 109), the generals wer very much divided in their opinions; some were for fighting, others not; Miltiades observing this, addressed himself to Callimachus of Aphidnss, who was Polemarch, and whose power was equal to that of all the other generals. Calli- machus, whose voice was decisive, according to the Athe- nian laws, joined directly with Miltiades, and declared for giving battle immediately. Possibly, Aristides might hav some share in bringing Callimachus to this resolution. t Vet. he would not fight nntil his own proper day of com mami came about, for tear that through any latent sparks of jealousy and envy, any of the generals should be led not tc do their duty. t The Athenians and Plataeans longht with such obstinate valor on the right and left, that the barbarians were (breed to fly on both sides. The Persians and Saoe, however, perceiving that the Athenian center was weak, charged with such force, that they broke through it: this those on the right and left perceived, but did not attempt to succot it, nntil they had put to flight both the winjrs of the Persiao army; then bending the points of the wings toward thei: own center, they enclosed the hitherto victorious Persian*, and cut them in pieces. It was reported in those times, that the Alcmanidae encouraged the Persians to make a second attempt, by holdinc up as they approached the shore, a shield for a sig- nal. However, it WAS the Persian fleet that endeavored to double the cape of Juninm, with a view to surprise the city of Athens before the army could return. Htrodot. 1. vi, c. 101, &c. II From Marathon to Athens is about ,orty mile*. IT Torch-bearers, styled in Greek deduchi, were persons dedicated to the service of the gods, and admitted even to the most sacred mysteries. Pausanias speaks of it as a srenl happiness to a woman that she had seen hei brother, her husband, ami her son, successively enjoy this office. ** Both priests and kings wore fillets or diadems. It ii vell known, that in ancient times, those two dignities wer generally vested in the same person: and *uch nations a* A R IS TIDES. 227 liated himself before him; and taking him by the hand, showed him a great quantity of gold that A'as hid in a well. But Callias, not less cruel than unjust, took away the gold, and then killed the man that had given him information of it, lest he should mention the thing to others. Hence, they tell us, it was, that the comic writers called his family Laccopluti, i. e. enriched by the well, jest- ing upon the place from whence their founder drew his wealth. The year following, Aristides was appointed to the office of Archon, which gave his name to that year; though, according to Demetrius the Phale- rian, he was not archon until after the battle of Plataea, a little before his death. But in the public registers we find not any of the name of Aristides in the list of archons, after Xanthippides, in whose archonship Mardonius was beaten at Plata^a; whereas his name is on record immediately after Phanippus,* who was archon the same year that the battle was gained at Marathon. Of all the virtues of Aristides, the people were most struck with his justice, because the public utility was the most promoted by it. Thus he, though a poor man and a commonerr gained the royal and divine title of the Just, which kings and tyrants have never been fond of. It has been their ambition to be styled Poliorceti, takers of cities; Cerauni, thunderbolts; Nicanors, conquerors. Nay, some have chosen to be called Eagles and Vultures, preferring the fame of power to that of virtue. Whereas the Deity himself, to whom they want to be compared, is distinguished by three things, immortality, power, and virtue; and of these, virtue is the most excellent and divine. For space and the elements are everlasting; earth- quakes, lightning, storms, and torrents, have an amazing power; but as for justice, nothing partici- pates of that, without reasoning and thinking on God. And whereas men entertain three different lentiments with respect to the gods, namely, ad- miration, fear, and esteem, it should seem that they admire and think them happy by reason of their freedom from death and corruption; that they fear and dread them, because of their power and sovereignty ; and that they love, honor, and reverence them for their justice. Yet, though af- fected these three different ways, they desire only the two first properties of the Deity: immortality, which our nature will not admit of, and power, which depends chiefly upon fortune; while they foolishly neglect virtue, the only divine quality in their power; not considering that it is justice alone, which makes the life of those that flourish most in prosperity and high stations, heavenly and divine, while injustice renders it groveling and brutal. Aristides at first was loved and respected for his surname of the Just, arid afterward envied as much; the latter, chiefly by the management of riiemistocles, who gave it out among the people, that Aristides had abolished the courts of judica- ture, by drawing the arbitration of all causes to himself, and so was insensibly gaining sovereign power, though without guards and the other en- signs of it. The people, elevated with the late victory, thought themselves capable of every- thing, and the highest respect little enough for them. Uneasy therefore at finding that any one citizen rose to such extraordinary honor and dis- abolished the kingly office, kept the title of king for a per- on who ministered in the principal functions of the priest- hood. * From the registers it appears, that Phanippus was ar- ehon in the third year of the seventy-second Olympiad. It was, therefore, in this year that the battle of Marathon was fought, four hundred and ninety years before the birth f Christ. tinction, they assembled at Athens from all th towns in Attica, and banished Aristides by the Os- tracism ; disguising their envy of his character under the specious pretense of guarding against tyranny. For the Ostracism was not a punishment for crimes and misdemeanors, but was very decently called a humbling and lessening of some excessive influence and power. In reality, it was a mild gratification of envy; for by this means whoever was offended at the growing greatness of another, discharged his spleen, not in anything cruel or in- human, but only in voting a ten years' banish- ment. But when it once began to fall upon mean and profligate persons, it was forever after entirely laid aside; Hyperbolus being the last that was ex- iled by it. The reason of its turning upon such a wretch was this. Alcibiades and Nicias, who were per- sons of the greatest interest in Athens, had each his party; but perceiving that the people were go- ing to proceed to the Ostracism, and that one of them was likely to suffer by it, they consulted to- gether, and joining interests, caused it lo fall upon Hyperbolus. Hereupon the people, full of indig- nation at finding this kind of punishment dishon- ored and turned into ridicule, abolished it entirely. The Ostracism (to give a summary account of it) was conducted in the following manner: Every citizen took a piece of a broken pot, or a shell, on which he wrote the name of the person he wanted to have banished, and carried it to a part of the market-place that was enclosed with wooden rails. The magistrates then counted the number of the shells: and if it amounted not to six thousand, the Ostracism stood for nothing; if it did, they sorted the shells, and the person whose name was found on the greatest number, was declared an exile for ten years, but with permission to enjoy his es- tate. At the time that Aristides was banished, when the people were inscribing the names on the shells, it is reported that an illiterate burgher came to Aristides, whom he took for some ordinary perso a, and giving him his shell, desired him to write Aristides upon it. The good man, surprised at the adventure, asked him, "Whether Aristides had ever injured him?" "No," said he, "nor do I even know him; but it vexes me to hear him every where called the Just. 9 ' Aristides made no answer, but took the shell, and having written his own name upon it, returned it to the man. When he quitted Athens, he lifted up his hands toward heaven, and agreeably to his character, made a prayer, very different from that of Achilles; namely, "That the people of Athens might never see the day, which should force them to remember Aristides." Three years after, when Xerxes was passing through Thessalyand Breotia, by long marches, to Attica, the Athenians reversed this decree, and by a public ordinance recalled all the exiles. The principal inducement was their fear of Aristides; for they were apprehensive that he would join the enemy, corrupt great part of the citizens, and draw them over to the interests of the barbarians. Bol they little knew the man. Before this ordinance of theirs, he had been exciting and encouraging the Greeks to defend their liberty; and after it, when Themistocles was appointed to the command of the Athenian forces, he assisted him both with his person and counsel; not disdaining to raise his worst enemy to the highest pitch of glory, for the public good. For when Eurybiades, the comman- der-in-chief, had resolved to quit Salamis,* and Eurybiades was for standing away for the golf of Co- rinth, that he might be ntfar the land army. Bat Thento 228 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. before he could puthis purpose into execution, the enemy's fleet taking advantage of the night, had surrounded the islands, and in a manner blocked up the straits, without any one perceiving that the confederates were so hemmed in. Aristides sailed the same night from ^Egina, and passed with the utmost danger through the Persian fleet. As POOH as he readied the tent of Themistocles, he desired lo speak with him in private, and then ad- dressed him in these terms. ''Yon and I,Themis- tolces, if we are wise, shall now bid adieu to our Tain and childish disputes, and enter upon a no- bler and more salutary contention, striving which of us shall contribute most to the preservation of Greece; you, in doing the duty of a general, and I, in assisting you with my service and advice. I find that you alone have hit upon the best meas- ures, in advising to come immediately to an en- gagement in the straits. And though the allies oppose your design, the enemy promote it. For the sea on all sides is covered with their ships, so that the Greeks, whether they will or not, must come to action, and acquit themselves like men, there being no room left for flight." Themistocles answered, "I could have wished, Aristides, that you had not been before-hand with me in this noble emulation; but I will endeavor to outdo this happy beginning of yours by my future actions." At the same time he acquainted him with the stratagem he had contrived to ensnare the barbarians,* and then desired him to go and make it appear to Euripides, that there could be no safety for them without venturing a sea-fight there; for he knew that Aristides had much greater in- fluence over him than he. In the council of war, assembled on this occasion, Cleocritus the Corin- thian said to Themistocles, "Your advice is not agreeable to Aristides, since he is here present, and says nothing." "You are mistaken," said Aristi- des, "for I should not have been silent, had not the counsel of Themistocles been the most eligible. And I now hold my peace, not out of regard to the man, but because I approve his sentiments." This, therefore, was what the Grecian officers fixed upon. Aristides then perceiving that the little island of Psyttalia, which lies in the straits over against Salamis, was full of the enemy's troops, put on board the small transports a number of the bravest and most resolute of his countrymen, and made a descent upon the island; where he attacked the barbarians with such fury, that they were all cut in pieces, except some of the principal persons vho were made prisoners. Among the latter were three sons of Sandauce, the king's sister, whom he sent immediately to Themistocles; and it is said, that by the direction of Euphrantides the diviner, in pursuance of some oracle, they were all sacrificed to Bacchus Omestes. After this, Aristides placed a strong guard round the island, to take notice of such as were driven ashore there, that so none of his friends might perish, nor any of the enemy escape. For about Psyttalia the battle raged the most,t and the greatest efforts were made, as appears from the trophy erected there. lodes clearly saw, that in the straits of Salamis they could 6ght the Persian fleet, which was so vastly superior in num- bers, with much greater advantage than in the gulf of Co- rinth, where there was an open sea. * The stratagem was to send one to acquaint the enemy that the Greeks were going to quit the straits of Salamis, and, therefore, if the Persians were desirous to crush them at once, they must fall upon them immediately before they dispersed. t The battle of Salami* was fonght in the year before Christ 480 When the battle was over, Themistocles, by way of sounding Aristides, said, "That great things were already done, but greater still re- mained; for they might conquer Asia in Europe, by making all the sail they could to the Helles- pont, to break down the bridge." But Aristides exclaimed against the proposal, and bade him think no more of it, but rather consider and inquire what would be the speediest method of driving the Persians out of Greece, lest finding himself shut up with such immense forces, and no way left to escape, necessity might bring him to fight with the most desperate courage. Hereupon, The- mistocles sent to Xerxes the second time, by the eunuch Arnaces, one of the prisoners,* to ac- quaint him privately, that the Greeks were strong- ly inclined to make the best of their way to the Hellespont to destroy the bridge which he had left there; but that, in order to save his royal person, Themistocles was using his best endeavors to dis- suade them from it. Xerxes, terrified at this news, made all possible haste to the Hellespont; leaving Mardonius behind him with the land forces, con- sisting of three hundred thousand of his best troops. In the strength of such an army Mardonius was very formidable; and the fears of the Greeks were hightened by his menacing letters, which were in this style: "At sea, in your wooden towers, you have defeated landmen, unpracticed at the oar; but there are still the wide plains of Thessaly and the fields of Boeotia, where both horse and foot may fight to the best advantage." To the Athenians he wrote in particular, being authorized by the king to assure them that their city should be rebuilt, large sums bestowed upon them, and the sovereignty of Greece put in their hands, if they would take no farther share in the war.f As soon as the Lacedemonians had intelligence of these proposals, they were greatly alarmed, and sent ambassadors to Athens, to entreat the people to send their wives and children to Sparta,? and to accept from them what was necessary for the support of such as were in years; for the Athe- nians, having lost both their city and their coun- try, were certainly in great distress. Yet when they had heard what the ambassadors had to say. they gave them such an answer, by the direction of Aristides, as can never be sufficiently admired. They said, " They could easily forgive their ene- mies for thinking that everything was to be pur- chased with silver and gold, because they had no idea of anything more excellent: but they could not help being displeased that the Lacedemonians should regard only their present poverty and dis- tress, and, forgetful of their virtue and magna- nimity, call upon them to fight for Greece for the paltry consideration of a supply of provisions." Aristides having drawn up his answer in the form of a decree, and called all the ambassadors to an audience in full assembly, bade those of Sparta tell the Lacedemonians, That the people of Athen$ * This expedient answered two purposes. By it he drove the king of Persia out of Europe; and in appearance con ferred an obligation upon him, which might be remembered to the advantage of Themistocles, when he came to have occasion for it. t He made these proposals by Alexander, king of Mace- don, who delivered them in a set speech. t They did not propose to the Athenians to send theii wives and children to Sparta, but only offered to maintain them during the war. They observed, that the original quarrel was between the Persians and the Athenians: that the Athenians were always wont to be the foremost in the cause of liberty; and that there was no reason to believe the Persians would observe any termj with the people tbej hated. ARISTIDES. 229 would not take all the gold either above or under ground for the liberties of Greece. As for those of Mardonius, he pointed to the sun, and told them, " As long as this luminary shines, so long will the Athenians carry on war with the Persians for their country, which has been laid waste, and for their temples, which have been profaned and burned." He likewise pro- cured an order, that the priests should solemnly execrate all that should dare to propose an em- bassy to the JVledes, or talk of deserting the alliance of Greece. When Mardonius had entered Attica the second time, the Athenians retired again to Salamis. And Aristides, who on that occasion went ambas- sador to Sparta, complained to the Lacedemo- nians of their delay and neglect in abandoning Athens once more to the barbarians; and pressed them to hasten to the succor of that part of Greece which was not yet fallen into the enemy's hands. The JSphori gave him the hearing,* but seemed attentive to nothing but mirth and diver- sion, for it was the festival of Hyacinthus.f At night, he "ever, they selected five thousand Spar- tans, with orders to take each seven helots with him, and to march before morning, unknown to the Athenians. When Aristides carne to make his remonstrances again, they smiled and told him, " That he did but trifle or dream, since their army was at that time as far as Orestium, on their march against the foreigners;" for so the Lace- daemonians called the barbarians. Aristides told them, " It was not a time to jest, or to put their stratagems in practice upon their friends, but on their enemies." This is the account Idomeneus gives of the matter; but, in Aristides's decree, Cimon, Xanthippus, and Myronides, are said to have gone upon the embassy, and not Aristides. Aristides, however, was appointed to command the Athenians in the battle that was expected, and marched with eight thousand foot to Platan. There Pausanias, who was commander-in-chief of all the confederates, joined him with the Spar- tans, and the other Grecian troops arrived daily in great numbers. The Persian army, which was encamped along the river Asopas, occupied an immense tract, of ground: and they they had for- tified a spot ten furlongs square, for their baggage and other things of value. In the Grecian army there was a diviner of Elis, named Tisamenus,} who foretold certain victory to Pausanias, and the Greeks in general, if they did not attack the enemy, but stood only upon the defensive. And Aristides, having sent to Delphi, to inquire of the oracle, received this answer: " The Athenians shall be victorious, if they address their prayers to Jupiter, to Juno of Cithzeron, to Pan, and to the nyrnphs Sphragi- tides; if they sacrifice to the heroes, Androcrates, * They put off their answer from time to time, until they I.-.! gained ten days; in which time they finished the wall across the Isthmus, which secured them against the barba rians. t Among the Spartans, the feast of Hyacinthus lasted thfee days. The first and last were days of mourning for Hyacinihus's death, but the second was a day of rejoicin*, celebrated with all manner ofdiversions. t The oracle having promised Tisamenus five great vic- tories; the Lacedaemonians were desirous of having him for their diviner, but he demanded to be admitted a citizen of Sparta, which was refused at first. However, upon the approach of the Persians, he obtained that privilege boih for himself and his brother Hegias. This would scarcely have been worth mentioning, had not those two been the only strangers tha. were ever made citizens of Sparta. 'I he nymphs of mount Cithceron were called Sphragiti- des, which probably had its name from the silence observed in it by the persons who went thither to be inspired; silence being described by sealing the lips. Leucon, Pisander, Democrates, Hypsion, Acteeon, and Polyidius; and if they fight only in their own country, on the plain of the Eleusinian Ceres and of Proserpine." This oracle perplexed Aristides not a little. For the heroes to whom he was commanded to sacrifice, were the ancestors of the Plataeans, and the cave of the nymphs Sphragi- tides, in one of the summits of mount Cithoeron, opposite the quarter where the sun sets in the summer; and it is said, in that cave there was formerly an oracle, by which many who dwelt in those parts were inspired, and therefore called Nympholepti. On the other hand, to have the promise of victory only on condition of fighting in their own country, on the plain of the Eleu- sinian Ceres, was calling the Athenians bank to Attica, and removing the seat of war. In the meantime, Arimnestus, general of the Plataaans, dreamed that Jupiter the Preserver ask- ed him " What the Greeks had determined to do?" To which he answered, " To-morrow they will decamp and march to Eleusis, to fight the bar- barians there, agreeable to the oracle." The god replied, " they quite mistake its meaning: for the place intended by the oracle is in the environs of Plataea; and if they seek for it, they will find it." The matter being so clearly revealed to Arimnestus as soon as he awoke he sent for the oldest and most experienced of his countrymen; and having advised with them, and made the best inquiry, he found that near Husise, at the foot of mount Cithteron, there was an ancient temple called the temple of the Eleusinian Ceres and of Proserpine. He im- mediately conducted Aristides to the place, which appeared to be very commodious for drawing up an army of foot, that was deficient in cavalry, because the bottom of mount Cithaeron extending as far as the temple, made the extremities of the field on that side inaccessible to the horse. In that place was also the chapel of the hero Andro- crates, quite covered with thick bushes and trees And that nothing might be wanting to fulfill the oracle, and confirm the hopes of victory, the Pla- taeans resolved, at the motion of Arimnestus, tc remove their boundaries between their countr} and Attica, and, for the sake of Greece, to make a grant of those lands to the Athenians, that, ac- cording to the oracle, they might fight in their own territories. This generosity of the Plataaans gained them so much renown, that many years after, when Alexander had conquered Asia, he ordered the walls of Plataea to be rebuilt, and pro- clamation to be made by a herald at the Olympic games, " That the king granted the Plataeans this favor, on account of their virtue and genero- sity, in giving up their lands to the Greeks in the Persian war, and otherwise behaving with the greatest vigor and spirit." When the confederates came to have their seve- ral posts assigned them, there was a great dispute between the Tegetae and the Athenians: the Te- getoa insisting, that, as the Lacedemonians were posted in the right wing, the left belonged to them, and, in support of their claim, setting forth the gallant actions of their ancestor?. As the Athenians expressed great indignation at this, Aristides stepped forward and said, " That, time will not permit us to contest with the Tegetce the renown of their ancestors and their personal bravery: but to the Spartans and to the rest of the Greeks we may say, that the post neither give* valor nor takes it away, and whatever post you assign us, we will endeavor to do honor to it, and take care to reflect no disgrace upon our former achievements. For we are not come hither to quarrel with our allies, but to fight our enemies; SJ30 PLUT A RCH'S LIVES. dot to make encomiums upon our forefathers, but to approve our own courage in the cause of Greece. And the battle will soon show what value our country should set on every state, every general, and private man." After this speech, the council of war declared in favor of the Athe- nians, and gave them the command of the left wing. While the fate of Greece was in suspense, the affairs of the Athenians were in a very dangerous posture. For those of the best families and for- tunes, being reduced by the war, and seeing their authority in the state and their distinction gone with their wealth, and others rising to honors and employments, assembled privately in a house at Plataea, and conspired to abolish the democracy; and, if that did not succeed, to ruin all Greece, and to betray it to the barbarians. When Aris- tides got intelligence of the conspiracy thus entered into in the camp, and found that numbers were corrupted, he was greatly alarmed at its happen- ing at such a crisis, and unresolved at first how to proceed. At length he determined neither to teave the matter uninquired into, nor yet to sift it thoroughly, because he knew not how far the contagion had spread, and thought it advisable to sacrifice justice, in some degree, to the public good, by forbearing to prosecute many that were guilty. He, therefore, caused eight persons only to be apprehended, and of those eight no more than two, who were the most guilty, to be pro- ceeded against. ^Eschines of Lampra, and Age- Bias of Acharnse- and even they made their escape during the prosecution. As for the rest he dis- charged them: and gave them, and all that were concerned in the plot, opportunity to recover their spirits and change their sentiments, as they might imagine that nothing was made out against them: but he admonished them at the same time, "That the battle was the great tribunal, where they might clear themselves of the charge, and show that they had never followed any counsels but such as were just and useful to their country." After this,* Mardonius to make a trial of the Greeks, ordered his cavalry,, in which he was strongest, to skirmish with them. The Greeks were all encamped at the foot of mount Citha3- ~on, in strong and stony places; except the Me- garensians, who to the number of three thousand, were posted on the plain, and by this means suf- fered much by the enemy's horse, who charged them on every side. Unable to stand against such superior numbers, they dispatched a messenger to Pausanias, for assistance. Pansanias, hearing their request, and seeing the camp of the Megarensians darkened with the shower qf darts and arrows, and that they were forced to contract themselves with- in a narrow compass, was at a loss what to resolve on; for he knew that his heavy armed Spartans were not fit to act against cavalry. He endea- vored, therefore, to awaken the emulation of the generals and other officers that were about him, that they might make it a point of honor volun- tarily to undertake the defense and succor of the Megarensians. But they all declined it, except Aristides, who made an offer of his Athenians, and gave immediate orders to Olyrnpiotiorus, one of the most active of his officers,' to advance with his select band of three hundred men and some * The battle of Plattea was fought in the year before onrist 479, the year after that of Salamis. Herodotus was then about nine or ten years old, and had his accounts from persons that were present in the battle. And he informs us that the circumstance here related by Plutarch, happened' before the Greeks left their camp at Erytrurae, in order to ncamp round Plataea, and before the contest between the Te^eta tnd the Athenians. Lib. ix, 29, 30, &c. archcers intermixed. They were all ready in a mo- ment, and ran to attack the barbarians. Masistius, general of the Persian horse, a man distinguished for his strength and graceful mien, no sooner saw them advancing, than he spurred his horse against them. The Athenians received him witii great firmness, and a sharp conflict ensued; for they considered this as a specimen of the success of the whole battle. At last Masistius's horse was wounded with an arrow, and threw his rider, who could not recover himself because of the weight of his armor, nor yet be easily slmn by the Athe- nian^j} that strove which should do it first, because not only his body and his head, but his legs and arms, were covered with plates of gold, brass, and iron. But the vizor of his helmet leaving part of his face open, one of them pierced him in the eye with the staff of his spear, and so dispatched him. The Persians then left the body and fled. The importance of this achievement appeared to the Greeks not by the number of their enemies lying dead upon the field, for that was but small, but by the mourning of the barbarians, who, in their grief for Masistius, cut off their hair, and the manes of their horses and mules, and filled all the plain with their cries and groans, as having lost the man that was next to Mardonius in cour- age and authority. After this engagement with the Persian cavalry, both sides forebore the combat a long time; for the diviners, from the entrails of the victims, equally assured the Persians and the Greeks of victory, if they stood upon the defensive, and threatened a total defeat to the aggressors. But, at length Mardonius, seeing but a few days' pro- vision left, and that the Grecian forces increased daily by the arrival of fresh troops, grew un- easy at the delay, and resolved to pass the Aso- pus next morning by break of day, and fall upcn the Greeks, whom he hoped to find unprepared. For this purpose, he gave his orders over night. But at midnight a man on horseback softly ap- proached the Grecian camp, and, addressing him- self to the sentinels, bade them call Aristides the Athenian general to him. Aristides came im- mediately, and the unknown person said, "I am Alexander, king of Macedon, who, for the friend- ship I bear to you, have exposed myself to the greatest dangers, to prevent your fighting under the disadvantage of a surprise. For Mardonius will give you battle to-morrow; not that he is in- duced to it by any well-grounded hope or pros- pect of success, but by the scarcity of provisions; for the soothsayers, by their ominous sacrifices and ill-boding oracles, endeavored to divert him from it; but necessity forces him either to hazard a battle, or to sit still, and see his whole army per- ish through want." Alexander, having thus open- ed himself to Aristides, desired him to take notice and avail himself of the intelligence, but not to communicate it to any other person;* Aristides however thought it wrong to conceal it from Pau- sanias, who was commander-in-chief: but he pro- mised not to mention the thing to any one beside, until after the battle; and assured him at the same time, that if the Greeks proved victorious, the whole army should be acquainted with this kind- ness, and glorious, daring conduct of Alexander. The king of Macedon, having dispatched this affair, returned, and Aristides went immediately to the tent of Pausanias, and laid the whole before him; whereupon the other officers were sent for, and ordered to put the troops under arms, and * According to Herodotus, Alexander had excepted Pav- sanins out of this charge of secrecy; and this is moU pro- bable, because Pausanius was commander-in-chief. ARISTID ES. 231 hare them ready i'or battle. At the same time, according to Herodotus, Pausanias informed Aris- tides of his design to alter the disposition of the army, by removing tne Athenians from the left wing to the right, and setting them to oppose the Persians: against whom they would act with more bravery, because they had made a proof of their manner of fighting; and with greater assurance of success, because they had already succeeded. As for the left wing, which would have to do with those Greeks that had embraced the Median in- terest, he intended to command there himself.* The other Athenian officers thought Pausanias carried it with a purtiul and high hand, in moving them up and down, like so many helots, at his plea- sure, to face the boldest of the enemy's troops, while he left the rest of the confederates in their posts. But Aristides told them, they were under a great mistake. "You contended," said he, "a few days ago with the Tegetae for the command of the left wing, and valued yourselves upon the preference; and now, when the Spartans volun- tarily offer you the right wing, which is in effect giving up to you the command of the whole army, you are neither pleased with the honor, nor sen- sible of the advantage, of not being obliged to fight against your countrymen and those who have the same origin with you, but against Barbarians, your natural enemies." These words had such an effect upon the Athe- nians, that they readily agreed to change posts with the Spartans, and nothing was heard among them but mutual exhortations to act with bravery. They observed, "That the enemy brought neither better arms nor bolder hearts than they had at Marathon, but came with the same bows, the same embroidered vests and profusion of gold, the same effeminate bodies, and the same unmanly souls. For our part, continued they, we have the same weapons and strength of body, together with ad- ditional spirits from our victories; and we do not, like them, fight for a tract of land or a single city, but for the trophies of Marathon and Salamis, that the people of Athens, and not Miltiades and fortune, may have the glory of them." While they were thus encouraging each other, .hey hastened lo their new post. But the The- jans being informed of it by deserters, sent and acquainted Mardonius, who, either out of fear of 'he Athenians, or from an ambition to try his strength with the Lacedaemonians, immediately moved the Persians to his right wing, and the Greeks that were of his party to the left, opposite to the Athenians. This change in the disposition of the enemy's army being known, Pausanias made another movement, and passed to the right; which Mardonius perceiving, returned to the left, and so still faced the Lacedaemonians. Thus the day passed without any action at all. In the evening the Grecians held a council of war, in which they determined to decamp, and take possession of a place more commodious for water, because the springs of their present camp were disturbed and spoiled by the enemy's horse. When night was com<>,t and the officers began tot march at the head of their troops to the place marked out for a new camp, the soldiers followed unwillingly, and could not without great difficulty be kept together; for they were no sooner out of their first entrenchments, than many made off to * Herodotus says the contrary; namely, that all the Athe- nian officers were nmbitious of that post, but did not think proper to propose it foi fear of disobliging the Spartans. t On this occasion. Mardonius did not tail to insult Arta- baxns, reproaching him with his cowardly prudence, and the false notion he had conceived of the Lacdda-.monians, who, M he pretended, never fled before the enemy. the city of Platsea, and, either dispersing there, or pitching their tents without any regard to disci- pline, were in the utmost confusion. It happened that the Lacedaemonians alone were left behind, though against their will. For Amompharetus, an intrepid man, who had long been eager to en- gage, and uneasy to see the battle so often put off and delayed, plainh called this decampment a dis- graceful flight, and declared, "He would not quit his post, but remain there with his troops, and stand it out against Mardonius." And when Pau- sanias represented to him, that this measure was taken in pursuance of the counsel and determina- tion of the confederates, he took up a large stone with both his hands, and throwing it at Pausanias's feet, said, "This is my ballot for a battle; and I despise, the timid counsels and resolves of others." Pausanias was at a loss what to do, but at last sent to the Athenians, who by this time were ad- vancing, and desired them to halt a little, that they might all proceed in a body: at the same time he marched with the rest of the troops to- ward Platsea, hoping by that means to draw Amompharetus after him. By this time it was day, and Mardonius,* who was not ignorant that the Greeks had quitted their camp, put his army in order of battle, and bore down upon the Spartans; the barbarians set- ting up such shouts, and clanking their arms in such a manner, as if they expected to have only the plundering of fugitives, and not a battle. And, indeed, it was like to have been so. For though Pausanias, upon seeing this motion of Mar- donius, stopped, and ordered every one to his post, yet, either confused with his resentment against Amompharetus, or with the sudden attack of the Persians, he forgot to give his troops the word: and for that reason they neither engaged readily, nor in a body, but continued scattered in small parties, even after the fight was begun. Pausanias in the meantime offered sacrifice; but seeing no auspicious token, he commanded the Lacedemonians to lay down their shields at their feet, and to stand still, and attend his orders, without opposing the enemy. After this he offered other sacrifices, the Persian cavalry still advancing. They were now within bow-shot, and some of the Spartans were wounded: among whom was Callicrates, a man that for si/e and beauty exceeded the whole army. This bravd soldier being shot with an arrow, and ready to expire, said, " He did not lament his death, be- cause he came out resolved to shed hi& blood for Greece; but he was sorry to die without having once drawn his sword against the enemy." If the terror of this situation was great, the steadiness and patience of the Spartans was won- derful : for they made no defense against tha enemy's charge, but waiting the time of Heaven and their general, suffered themselves to be wounded and slain in their ranks. Some say, that, as Pausanias was sacrificing and praying at a little distance from the lines, cer- tain Lydians coming suddenly upon him, seized and scattered the sacred utensils, and that Pau- * Having passed the Asopus, he came up with the Lace- daemonians and Tegetae, who were separated from the body of the army, to the number of fifty-three thousand. Pau- sanius, finding himself thus attacked by the whole Persian army, dispatched a messenger to acquaint the Athenians, who had taken another route, with the danger he was in. The Athenians immediately put themselves on their march to succor their distressed allies; hut were attacked, and to their great regret, prevented by those CJreeks who sided with the Persians. The battle being thus fought in two different places, the Spartans were the first who broke iuto the center of the Persian army, and, after a most oL'stinata resistance, put them to flight. PLUTARCH'S LIVES, sanias and those about him, having no weapons, .Spartan named Arimnestus,* who broke his skull drove them away with rods and scourges. And they will have it to be in imitation of this assult of the Lydians, that they celebrate a festi- val at Sparta now, in which boys are scourged round the altar, and which concludes with a march fulled the Lydian march. Pausanias, extremely afflicted at these circum- stances, while the priest offered sacrifice upon sacrifice, turning toward the temple of Juno, and with tears trickling from his eyes, and uplifted hands prayed to that goddess, the protectress of CithtdtOH, aud to the other tutelar deities of the Platteans, " That if the fates had not decreed that the Grecians should conquer, they might at least be permitted to sell their lives dear ; and show the enemy by their deeds that they had brave men and experienced soldiers to deal with." The very moment that Pausanias was uttering this prayer, the tokens so much desired appeared in the victim, and the diviners announced him victory. Orders were immediately given the whole army to come to action, and the Spartan phalanx all at once had the appearance of some fierce animal, erecting his bristles, and preparing to exert his strength. The barbarians then saw clearly that they had to do with men who were r^ady to spill i.ne last drop of their blood: and, therefore, cov^-iing themselves with their targets, shot their arrows against the Lacedaemonians. The Lacedaemonians moving forward in a close, compact body, fell upon the Persians, and forcing their targets from them, directed their pikes against their faces and breasts, and brought many of them to the ground. However, when they were down, they continued to give proofs of their strength and courage; for they laid hold on the pikes with their naked hands and broke them, and then springing up, betook themselves to their swords and battle-axes, and wresting away their enemies' shields and grappling close with them, made a long and obstinate resistance. The Athenians all this while stood still, expect with a stone, as the oracle of Amphiaraus had foretold him. For Mardonius had sent a Lydian to consult this oracle, and, at the same time, a Carian to the cave of Trophonius.f The priest of Trophonius answered the Carian in his own language: but the Lydian, as he slept in the tem- ple of AmphiarausjJ thought he saw a minister of the god approach him. who commanded him to be gone, and upon his refusal, threw a great stone at his head, so that he believed himself killed by the blow, of that affair. The barbarians, Such is the account we have flying before the Spartans, were pursued to their camp which they had forti- fied with wooden walls. And soon after the Athenians routed the Thebans, killing three hun- dred persons of the first distinction on the spoil Just as the Thebans began to give way, news was brought that the barbarians were shut up and besieged in their wooden fortification; the Athe- nians, therefore, suffering the Greeks to escape, hastened to assist in the siege; finding that the Lacedemonians, unskilled in the storming of walls, made but a slow progress, they attacked and took the camp, with a prodigious slaughter of the enemy. For it is said that out of three hundred thousand men, escaped with Artabazus:| only forty thousand whereas of those that fought in the cause of Greece, no more were slain than one thousand three hundred and sixty; among whom were fifty-two Athenians, all ac- cording to Clidemus, of the tribe of Aiantis, which greatly distinguished itself in that action. And therefore, by order of the Delphic oracle, the Aiantidce offered a yearly sacrifice of thanks- giving for the victory to the nymphs Sphragitides, having the expense defrayed out of the treasury. The Lacedrernonians lost ninety-one, and the TegetaB sixteen. But it is surprising that Hero- dotus should say that these were the only Greeks that engaged the barbarians, and that no other were concerned in the action. For both the number ing the Lacedaemonians; but when the noise of I of the slain and the monuments, show that it was the battle reached them, and an officer, as we are ; the common achievement of the confederates; told, dispatched by Pausanias gave, them an ac- jand the altar erected on that occasion would not count that the engagement was begun, they hastened to his assistance; and as they were cross- ing the plain toward the place where the noise was heard, the Greeks who sided with the enemy, pushed against them. As soon as Aristides saw them, he advanced a considerable way before his troops, and calling out to them with all his force, conjured them by the gods of Greece, " To re- nounce this impious war, and not oppose the Athe- nians who were running to the succor of those that were now the first to hazard their lives for the safety of Greece." But finding that, instead of hearkening to him, they approached in a hos- tile manner, he quitted his design of going to assist the Lacedaemonians, and joined battle with these Greeks, who were about five thousand in number. But the greatest part soon gave way and retreated, especially when they heard that the barbarians were put to "flight. The sharpest part of this action is said to have been with the The- bans; among whom the first in quality and power, having embraced the Median interest, by their authority carried out the common people against their inclination. The battle, thus divided into two parts, the Lacedaemonians first broke and routed" the Per- and Mardonius* himself was slain by a have had the following inscription, if only three states had engaged, and the rest sat still. The Greeks, their country freed, the Persians slain, Have rearVI this altar on this glorious field, To freedom's patron, Jove. This battle was fought on the fourth of Boe- drornion (September) according to the Athenian way of reckoning; but, according to the Bceotian killed a great number of the enemy; but, when he fell, the whole Persian army was easily routed. * In some copies he is called Diamnestus. Arimnestns was general of the Platseans. f The cave of Trophonius was near the city of Lahadia in Boeotin, above Delphi. Mardonius had sent to consult, not only this oracle, but almost all the other oracles in the country, so restless and uneasy was he about the event of the war. J Amphiaraus, in his lifetime had been a great interpreter of dreams, and therefore, alter his death, gave his oracles pose, those that consulted kirn skin of a ram, which they had by dreams; for which pur sfept in his temple, on the sacrificed to him. The spoil was immense, consisting of vast sums of money, of gold and silver cups, vessels, tables, bracelets, rich beds, and all sorts of furniture, of all to Pausanias. || Artabazus, who, from Mardonioi'i Mardonius, mounted on a white horse, signalized him- lf .jTeatl} , *nd, at the- head of a thousand chosen men, | Herodot. 1. U. c. 3169 They gave the tenth imprudent conduct, timelv retreat With the forty thousand men he commanded, arrived safe at Byzantium, and from thence passed ovet nto Asia. Beside these, only three thousand men escaped. ARISTIDES. 233 cmmpatation, on the twenty-fonrth of the month Panemus. And ou that day there is still a gene- ral assembly of the Greeks at Platoea, and the Plataeans sacrifice to Jupiter, the deliverer, for the victory. Nor is this difference of days in the Grecian months to be wondered at, since even now, when the science of astronomy is so much improved, the months begin and end differently ill different places. This victory went near to be the ruin of Greece. For the Athenians unwilling to allow the Spar- tans the honor of the day, or to consent that they should erect the trophy, would have referred it to the decision of the sword, had not Aristideo taken great pains to explain the matter and pacify the other generals, particularly Leocrates and My- ronides, and persuading them to leave it to the judgment of the Greeks. A council was called accordingly, in which Theogiton gave il as his opinion, " That those two states should give up the palm to a third, if they desired to prevent a civil war." Then Cleocritus, the Corinthian, rose up, and it was expected he would set forth the pretensions of Coiinth to the prize of valor, as the city next in dignity to Sparta and Athens; but they were most agreeably surprised when they found that he spoke in behalf of the Platae- ans, and proposed, "That, all disputes laid aside, the palm should be adjudged to them, since neither of the contending parties could be jealous of them." Aristides was the first to give up the point for the Athenians, and then Pausanias did the same for the Lacedemonians.* The confederates thus reconciled, eighty talents were set apart for the Plataeans, with which they built a temple, and erected a statue to Minerva; adorning the temple with paintings, which to this day retain their original beauty and luster. Both the Lacedaemonians and Athenians erected tro- phies separately; and sending to consult the oracle at Delphi, about the sacrifice they were to offer, they were directed by Apollo, "To build an altar to Jupiter, the deliverer, but not to offer any sacri- fice upon it until they had extinguished all the fire in the country (because it had been polluted by the barbarians), and supplied themselves with pure fire from the common altar at Delphi." Hereupon the Grecian generals went all over the country, and caused the fires to be put out; and Euchidas, a Plateau, undertaking to fetch fire, with all imaginable speed, from the altar of the god, went to Delphi, sprinkled and purified him- self there with water, put a crown of laurel on his head, took fire from the altar, and then hastened back to Plataea, where he arrived before sunset, thus performing a journey of a thousand furlongs in one day- But, having saluted his. fel- low-citizens, and delivered the fire, he fell down on the spot and presently expired. The Plataeans carried him to the temple of Diana, surnamed Eucleia, and buried him there, putting this short inscription on his tomb: Uere lies Euchidas, who went to Delphi, and returned the same day. As for Eucleia, the generality believe her to be Diana, and call her by that name: but some say she was daughter to Hercules, and Myrto the daughter of Menoeceus, and sister of Patroclus; and that dying a virgin, she had divine honors paid her by the Boeotians and Leocrians. For in the market-place of every city of theirs, she has a ' As to individuals, when they came to determine which had behaved with most courage, they all gave judgment in favor of Aristodemus, who was the only one that had saved nimself at Thermopylae, and now wiped off the blemish of nit former conduct >iv a glorious death. statue and an altar, where persons of both sexes that are betrothed offer sacrifice before marriage. In the first general assembly of the Greeks after this victory, Aristides proposed a decree, " That deputies from all the states of Greece should meet annually at Plataea, to sacrifice to Jupiter, the deli- verer, and that every fifth year they should cele- brate the games of liberty: that a general levy should be made through Greece of ten thousand foot, a thousand horse, and a hundred ships for the war against the barbarians: and that the Pla- taeans should be exempt, being set apart for the service of the god, to propitiate him in behalf of Greece, and consequently their persons to be esteemed sacred." These articles passing into a law, th Platseans under toook to celebrate the anniversary of those that were slain and buried in that place, and they continue it to this day. The ceremony is as fol- lows : On the sixteenth day of Mairnacterion, [November] which with the Boeotians is the month Aldlcomenius, the procession begins at break of day, preceded by a trumpet which sounds the signal of battle. Then follow several chariots full of garlands and branches of myrtle, and next to the chariots is led a black bull. Then come some young men that are free-born, carrying vessels full of wine and milk, for the libations, and cruets of oil and perfumed essences: no slave being al- lowed to have any share in this ceremony, sacred to the memory of men that died for liberty. The procession closes with the Archon of Plataea, who at other times is not allowed either to touch iron, or to wear any garments but a white one; but that day he is clothed with a purple robe, and girt with a sword: and carrying in his hand a water- pot, taken out of the public hall, he walks through the midst of the city to the tombs. Then he takes water in the pot out of a fountain, and, with his own hands, washes the little pillars of the monuments,* and rubs them with essences. After this he kills the bull upon a pile of wood; and having made his supplications to the terrestrial Jupiter,f and to Mercury, he invites those brave men who fell in the cause of Greece, to the fune- ral banquet, and the streams of blood. Last of all he fills a bowl with wine, and pouring it out, he says, " I present this bowl to the men who died for the liberties of Greece." Such is the cere- mony still observed by the Plataeans. When the Athenians were returned home, Aristides, observing that they used their utmost endeavors to make the government entirely demo- cratical, considered, on one side, that the people deserved some attention and respect, on account of their gallant behavior; and, on the other, that being elated with their victories, it would be diffi- cult to force them to depart from their purpose; and therefore he caused a decree to be made, that all the citizens should have a share in the adminis- tration, and that the Archons should be chosen out of the whole body of them. Themistocles having one day declared to the general assembly that he had thought of an expe- dient which was very salutary to Athens, J but *It appears from an epigram of Callimachus, that it W.-H customary to place little pillars upon the monuments, wh'r'i the friends, of the deceased perfumed with essences, aiul crowned with flowers. t The terrestrial Jupiter is Pluto, who, as well as the ce- lestial, had his Mercury, or else borrowed the messenger of the gods of his brother. To be sure, there might as well be two Mercuries as two Jupiters; but the conducting ot souls to the shades below, is reckoned part of the office of that Mercury who waits upon the Jupiter of the skies. J This was before the battle of Platzea, at the time wh*a Xerxes was put to Bight, and driven back into Atia. 234 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ought to be kept secret, he was ordered to com- municate it to Aristides only, and abide by his judgment of it. Accordingly he told him, his project was to burn the whole fleet of the confede- rates; by wbich means the Athenians would be raised to the sovereignty of all Greece. Aristides then returned to the assembly, and acquainted the Athenians, " That nothing could be more advan- tageous than the project of Thernistocles, nor anything more unjust." And upon his report of "the matter, they commanded Themistocles to give over all thoughts of it. Such regard had that people for justice, and so much confidence in the integrity of Aristides. Some time after this* he was joined in commis- sion with Cimon, and sent against the barbarians; where, observing that Pausauias and the other Spartan generals behaved with excessive haughti- ness, he chose a quite different manner, showing much mildness and condescension in his whole conversation and address, and prevailing with Cirnon to behave with equal goodness and affabi- lity to the whole league. Thus he insensibly drew the chief command from the Lacedemoni- ans, not by force of arms, horses, or ships, but by his gentle and obliging deportment. For the jus- tice of Aristides, and the candor of Cimon, having made the Athenians very agreeable to the confe- derates, their regard was increased by the contrast they found in Pausanias's avarice and severity of manners. For he never spoke to the officers of the allies but with sharpness and anger, and he ordered many of their men to be flogged, or to stand all day with an iron anchor on their shoul- ders. He would not surfer any of them to provide themselves with forage, or straw to lie on, or to go to the springs for water, before the Spartans were supplied; but placed his servants there with rods, to drive away those that should attempt it. And when Aristides was going to remonstrate with him upon it, he knit his brows, and, telling him, "He was not at leisure," refused to hear him. From that time the sea-captains and land-offi- cers of the Greeks, particularly those of Chios, Sam os, and Lesbos, pressed Aristides to take upon him the command of the confederate forces, and to receive them into his protection, since they had long desired to be delivered from the Spartan yoke, and to act under the orders of the Atheni- ans. He answered, " That he saw the necessity and justice of what they proposed, but that the proposal ought first to be confirmed by some act, which would make it impossible for the troops to depart from their resolution." Hereupon, Uliade,'* of Samos. and Antagoras of Chios, conspiring to- gether, went boldly and attacked Pausanias's gal- ley at the head of the fleet. Pausanias, upon this insolence, cried out in a menacing tone, "He would soon show those fellows they had not offer- ed this insult to his ship, but to their own coun- tries." But they told him, "The best thing he could do was to retire, and thank fortune for fighting for him at Platsea; for that nothing but the regard they had for that great action restrained the Greeks from wreaking their just vengeance on him." The conclusion was, that they quitted the Spartan banners, and ranged themselves under those of the Athenians. On this occasion, the magnanimity of the Spar- tan people appeared with great luster. For as soon as they perceived their generals were spoiled with too much power, they sent no more, but voluntarily gave up their pretensions to the chief * Eight years after. command; choosing rather to cultivate in their citizens a principle of modesty and teaaciousness of the laws and customs of their country, than to possess the sovereign command of Greece. While the Lacedaemonians had the command, the Greeks paid a certain tax toward the war; and now, being desirous that every city might be more equally rated, they begged the favor of the Athe- nians that Aristides might take it upon him, and gave him instructions to inspect their lands and revenues, in order to proportion the burden of each to its ability. Aristides, invested with this authority, which in a manner, made him master of all Greece, die not abuse it. For though he went out poor, h returned poorer, having settled the quotas of tin several states, not only justly and disinterestedly. but with so much tenderness and humanity, thai his assessment was agreeable and convenient U all. And as the ancients praised the times of Sa turn, so the allies of Athens blessed the settle ments of Aristides, calling it the happy fortune of Greece: a compliment which soon alter appearei still more just, when this taxation was twice o three times as high. For that of Aristidef. amounted only to four hundred and sixty talents; and Pericles increased it almost one-third: for Thucydides writes, that at the beginning of the war, the Athenians received from their allies six hundred talents; and after the death of Pericles, those that had the administration in their hands raised it by little and little to the sum of thirteen hundred talents. Not that the war grew more expensive, either by its length or want of success, but because they had accustomed the people to receive distributions of money for the public spec- tacles and other purposes, and had made them fond of erecting magnificent statues and ternplea. The great and illustrious character which Aris- tides acquired by the equity of this taxation, piqued Themistocles; and he endeavored to turn the praise bestowed upon him into ridicule, by saying, " It was not the praise of a man, but of a money-chest, to keep treasure without diminu- tion." By this he took but a feeble revenge for the freedom of Aristides. For one day Themis- tocles happening to say, "that he looked upon it as the principal excellence of a general to know and foresee the designs of the enemy," Aristides answered, "That is indeed a necessary qualifica' tion; but there is another very excellent one, and highly becoming a general, and that is, to have clean hands." When Aristides had settled the articles of al- liance, he called upon the confederates to confirm them with an oath; which he himself took on the part of the Athenians; and, at the same time that he uttered the execration on those who should break the articles, he threw red-hot pieces of iron into the sea.* However, when the urgency of affairs afterward required the Athenians to govern Greece with a stricter hand than those conditions justified, he advised them to let the consequence* of the perjury rest with him, and pursue the path which expediency pointed out.f Upon the whole, Theophrastua says, that in all his own private * As much as to say, as the fire in tbe.se pieces of iron ii extinguished in a moment, so may their days be extinct who break this covenant. t Thus even the just, the upright Aristides made a dis- tinction between his private and political conscience. A distinction which has no foundation in truth or reason, and which in the end will be productive of ruin i at her than advantage; as all those nations will find who avail them- selves of injustice to serve a piesent occasion. For so much reputation is so much power; and slates, as wre.l M private persons, are respectable oniy in their character. A R ISTIDES. 235 concerns, and in those of his fellot '-citizens, he was inflexibly just; but in affairs o(' state, he did many things according to the exigency of the case, to serve his country, which seemed often to have need of the assistance of injustice. And he relates, that when it was debated in council, whether the treasure deposited at Delos should be brought to Athens, as the Samians had advised, though contrary to treaties, on its coming to his turn to speak, he said, "It was not just, but it was expedient." This must be said, notwithstanding, that though he extended the dominions of Athens over so many people, he himself still continued poor, and esteemed his poverty no less a glory than all the laurels he had won. The following is a clear proof of it. Callias the torch-bearer, who was his near relation, was prosecuted in a capital cause by his enemies. When they had alleged what they had against him, which was nothing very flagrant, they launched out into something foreign to their own charge, and thus addressee! the judges: "You know Aristides, the son of Lysi- machus, who is justly the admiration of all Greece. When you see with what a garb he appears in public, in what manner do you think he must live at home? Must not he who shivers here with cold for want of clothing, be almost famished there, and destitute of all necessaries? yet this is the man, whom Callias, his cousin-german, and the richest man in Athens, absolutely neglects, and leaves, with his wife and children, in such wretchedness; though he has often made use of him, and availed himself of his interest with you." Callias perceiving that this point affected and ex- asperated his judges more than anything else, called for Aristides to testify before the court, that he had many times offered him considerable sums, and strongly pressed him to accept them, but he I had always refused them, in such terms as these: ' " It better becomes Aristides to glory in his poverty, than Callias in his riches; for we see every day many people make a good as well as a bad use of riches, but it is hard to find one that bears poverty with a noble spirit; and they only are ashamed of it, who are poor against their will." When Aristides had given in his evidence, there was not a man in the court who did not leave it with an inclination rather to b6 poor with him, than rich with Callias. This particular we have from ^Eschines, the disciple of Socrates. And Plato, among all that were accounted great and illustrious men in Athens, judged none but Aristides worthy of real esteem. As for Themis- tocles, Citnon, and Pericles, they filled the city with magnificent buildings, with wealth, and the vain superfluities of life; but virtue was the only object that Aristides had in view in the whole course of his administration. We have extraordinary instances of the candor with which he behaved towards Themistocles. For though he was his constant enemy in the affairs of government, and the means of his ban- ishment, yet when Themistocles was accused of capital crimes against the state, and he had an opportunity to pay him in kind, he indulged not the least revenge; but while Alcmraon, Cirnon, and many others, were accusing him and driving him into exile, Aristides alone neither did nor said anything to his disadvantage; for, as he had not envied his prosperity, so now he did not rejoice in his misfortunes. As to the death of Aristides, some say it hap- pened !n Pontus, whither he had sailed about Borne business of the state; others say he died atj Athens, full of days, honored and admired by nisi fellow-citizens: but Craterus the Macedonian gives us another account of the death of this great man. He tells us, that after the banish- ment of Themistocles, the insolence of the peo- ple gave encouragement to a number of villain- ous informers, who, attacking the greatest and best men, rendered them obnoxious to the po- pulace, now much elated with .prosperity and power. Aristides himself was not spared, but on a charge brought against him by Diophantus of Amphitrope, was condemned for taking a bribe of the lonians, at the time he levied the tax. He adds, that being unable to pay his fine, which was fifty mina, he sailed to some part of Ionia, and there died. But Craterus gives us no writ- ten proof of this assertion, nor does he allege any register of court or decree of the people, though on other occasions he is full of such proofs, and constantly cites his author. The other histori- ans, without exception, who have given us ac- counts of the unjust behavior of the people of Athens to their generals, among many other instances dwell upon the banishment of Themis- tocles, the imprisonment of Miltiades, the fine imposed upon Pericles, and the death of Paches, who, upon receiving sentence, killed himself in the judgment hall, at the foot of the tribunal. Nor do they forget the banishment of Aristides, but they say not one word of his condemna- tion. Beside, his monument is still to be seen at Phalereum, and is said to have been erected at the public charge, because he did not leave enough to defray the expenses of his funeral. They inform us too, that the city provided for the mar- riage of his daughters, and that each of them had three thousand drachma to her portion out of the treasury: and to his son Lysimachus the peo- ple of Athens gave a hundred mints of silver, and a plantation of as many acres of land, with a pen- sion of four drachmas a day;* the whole being confirmed to him by a decree drawn up by Alci- biades. Callisthenes adds, that Lysimachus a* his death leaving a daughter named Polycrite, the people ordered her the same subsistence with those that had conquered at the Olympic games. Demetrius the Phalerean, Hieronymus, of Rhodes, Aristoxenus the musician, and Aristotle himself, (if the treatise concerning nobility is to be reck- oned among his genuine works,) relate that Myrto, a grand-daughter of Aristides, was mar- ried to Socrates the philosopher, who had another wife at the same time, but took her, because she was in extreme want, and remained a widow on account of her poverty. But this is sufficiently confuted by Pana3tius, in his life of that philoso- pher. The same Demetrius, in his account of Socra- tes, tells us, he remembered one Lysimachus, grandson to Aristides, who plied constantly near the temple of Bacchus, having certain tables by which he interpreted dreams fora livelihood: and that he himself procured a decree, by which his mother and his aunt had three oboli a day each allowed for their subsistence. He further ac- quaints us, that when afterward he undertook to reform the Athenian laws, he ordered each of those women a drachma a day. Nor is it to be wondered at that this people took so much care of those that lived with him at Athens, when, hav- * Though tliis may seem no extraordinary matter to vis being about half-a-crown of our money, yet in those days it was. For an ambassador was allowed o'nly two drachma a day, as appears from the Jlcarnenses of Aristophanes. The poet, indeed, speaks of one sent to the king of Persia, at whose court an ambassador was pretty sure to be enriched. 236 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ing heard that a grand-daughter of Aristogiton lived in mean circumstances in Lemnos, and con- tinued unmarried by reason of her poverty, they sent for her to Athens, and married her to a man of considerable family, giving her for a portion an estate in the borough of Potamos That e!ty, even in our days, continues to give so many proofs of her benevolence and humanity, that she is deservedly admired and applauded by all th world. CATO THE CENSOR. IT is said that Marcus Cato was born at Tuscu- lum, of which place his family originally was, and that before he was concerned in civil or mil- itary affairs, he lived upon an estate which his father left him near the country of the Sabines. Though his ancestors were reckoned to have been persons of no note, yet Cato himself boasts of his father as a brave man and an excellent soldier, and assures us that his grandfather Cato received several military rewards, and that having had five horses killed under him, he had the value of them paid him out of the treasury, as an acknow- ledgment of his gallant behavior. As the Ro- mans always gave the appellation of new inert,* to those who, having no honors transmit- ted to them from their ancestors, began to distin- guish themselves, they mentioned Cato by the same style: but he used to say he was indeed new with respect to offices and dignities, but with re- gard to services and virtues of his ancestors, he was very ancient. His third name, at first, was not Cato, but Pris- cus. It was afterward changed to that of Cato on account of his great wisdom: for the Romans call wise men Calos. He had red hair and grey eyes, as this epigram ill-naturedly enough de- clares: With eyes so grey, and hair so red, With tusks so sharp and keen, Thou 'It fright the shades when thou art dead, And hell won't let thee in. Inured to labor and temperance and brought up, as it were, in camps, he had an excellent constitution with respect to strength as well as health. And he considered eloquence as a valua- ble contingent, an instrument of great things, not only useful but necessary, for every man who does not choose to live obscure and inactive; for which reason he exercised and improved that tal- ent in the neighboring boroughs and villages, by undertaking the causes of such as applied to him"; so that he was soon allowed to be an able pleader, and afterward a good orator. From this time, all that conversed with him dis- covered in him such a gravity of behavior, such a dignity and depth of sentiment, as qualified him for the greatest affairs in the most respectable govern- ment in the world. For he was not only so dis- interested as to plead without fee or reward, but it appem-ed that the honor to be gained in that depart- ment was not his principal view. His ambition was military glory; add when yet but a youth, he had * The jus imaginnm WAS annexed to the great offices of stnte, and none had their statues or pictures but such as had borne I hose offices. Therefore, he who had the pic- tures ol his ancestors, was called noble, he who had only his own, was called a new man; and he who had neither the one nor the other, was called ignoble. So says Asco- nius. But it does not appear that a man who had borne a great office, the consulate for instance, was ignoble because he had not his statue or picture; for he might not choose it. Cato himself did not choose it: his reason, we suppose" was, because he had none of his ancestors; though he was' pleased to assign another. fought in so many battles that his breast was full of scars. He himself tells us, he made his first campaign at seventeen years of age, when Hanni- bal, in the bight of his prosperity, was laying Italy waste with fire and sword. In battle he stood firm, had a sure and executing hand, a fierce countenance, and spoke to his enemy in a threatening and dreadful accent; for he rightly judged and endeavored to convince others, that such a kind of behavior often strikes an adver- sary with greater terror than the sword itself. He always marched on foot and carried his own arms, followed only by one servant who carried his provisions. And it is said, he never was an- gry or found fault with that servant, whatever he set before him; but when he was at leisure from military duty, would ease and assist him in dress- ing it.. All the time he was in the army, he drank nothing but water, except that when almost burned up with thirst he would ask fora lit- tle vinegar, or when he found his strength and spirits exhausted he would take a little wine. Near his country-seat was a cottage, which formerly belonged to Manius Curius,* who was thrice honored with a triumph. Cato often walked thither, and reflecting on the srnallnesa of the farm and the meanness of the dwelling, used to think of the peculiar virtues of Dentatus, who, though he was the greatest man in Rome, had subdued the most warlike nations, and driven Pyrrhus out of Italy, cultivated this little spot of ground with his own hands, and after three tri- umphs lived in this cottage. Here the ambassa- dors of the Samnites found him in the chimney- corner dressing turnips, and offered him a large present of gold; but he absolutely refused it, and gave them this answer : A man who can be satis- fed with such a supper has no need of gold : and 1 think it more glorious to conquer the owiers of it than to have it myself. Full of theso thoughts Cato returned home, and taking a view of his own estate, his servants, and manner of living, added to his own labor, and retrenches ' ii* unne- cessary expenses. When Fabius Maximus took the nty of Ta- rentum, Cato, who was then very your,g,f served under him. Happening at that time to lodge with a Pythagorean philosopher named Near- ches, he desired to hear some of his doctrine, and learning from him the same maxims which Pla- to advances. That pleasure is the greatest incen- tive to evil: thai the greatest burden and calamity to the soul is the body, from which she cannot disen- * Manius Curius Dentatus triumphed twice in his firs! consulate, in the four hundred and sixty-third year of Rome, first over the Samnites, and afterward over the Sabines. And eight years after that, in his third consulate, he trU umphed over Pyrrhus. After this, he led up the less tri- umph, called Ovation, for his victory over the Lucanians. t Fabius Maximus took Tarer.tum in his fifth consulate, in the year of Rom'.; J44. Gate ^as then twenti -thre years old; but he ha', vu 1 h'.< first campaign unfor to same Fabius, five yet t \e<sj. CATO THE CENSOR 237 gage hetself, but by sttch a wise use of reason as shall wean and separate her from all corporeal pas- sions; lie became still more attached to frugality and temperance. Yet it is said that he learned Greek very late, and was considerably advanced in years when he began to read the Grecian wri- ters, among whom he improved his eloquence, somewhat by Thucydides, but by Demosthenes very greatly. Indeed his own writings are suffi- ciently adorned with precepts and examples bor- rowed from the Greek, and among his maxims and sentences we find many that are literally translated from the same originals. At that time there flourished at Rome a noble- man of great power and eminence, called Vale- rius Flaccus, whose penetration enabled him to distinguish a rising genius and virtuous disposi- tion, and whose benevolence inclined him to en- courage and conduct it in the path of glory. This nobleman had an estate contiguous to Cato's, where he often heard his servants speak of his neighbor's laborious and temperate manner of life. They told him that he used to go early in the morning to the little towns in the neighbor- hood, and defend the causes of such as applied to him; that from thence he would return to his farm, where in a coarse frock, if it was winter, and naked, if it was summer, he would labor with his domestics, and afterward sit down with them, and eat the same kind of bread, and drink of the same wine. They related also many other in- stances of his condescension and moderation, and mentioned several of his short sayings that were full of wit and good sense. Valerius, charmed with his character, sent him an invitation to din- ner. From that time, by frequent conversation, he found in him so much sweetness of temper and ready wit, that he considered him as an excel- lent plant, which wanted only cultivation, and deserved to be removed to a better soil. He there- fore persuaded him to go to Rome, and apply him- self to affairs of state. Tiiere his pleadings soon procured him friends and admirers; the interest of Valerius, too, greatly assisted his rise to preferment; so that he was first made a tribune of the soldiers, and afterward quaestor. And having gained great reputation and honor in those employments, he was joined with Valerius himself in the highest dignities, being his colleague both as consul and as censor. Among all the ancient senators, he attached himself chiefly to Fabius Maximus, not so much on account of the great power and honor he had acquired, as for the sake of his life and manners, which Cato considered as the best model to form himself upon. So that he made no scruple of differing with the great Scipio, who, though at that time but a young man, yet actuated by a spirit of emulation, was the person who most opposed the power of Fabius. For being sent quaestor with Scipio to the war in Africa, and perceiving that he indulged himself, as usual, in an unbounded expense, and lavished the public money upon the troops, he took the liberty to remonstrate; observing, "That the expense itself was not the greatest evil, but the consequence of that expense, since it corrupted the ancient sim- plicity of the soldiery, who when they had more money than was necessary for their subsistence, were sure to bestow it upon luxury and riot." Scipio answered, " he had no need of a very exact and frugal treasurer, because he intended to spread all his sails in the ocean of war, and because his country expected from him an account of services perfurmei, not of money expended." Upon this Cato left Sicily, and returned to Rome, where, together with Fabius, he loudly complained to the senate of " Scipio's immense profusion, and of his passing his time, like a boy, in wrestling-rings and theaters, as if he had not been sent out to make war, but to exhibit games and shows." In consequence of this, tribunes were sent to exam- ine into the affair, with orders, if the accusation proved true, to bring Scipio back to Rome. Sci- pio represented to them, "That success depended entirely upon the greatness of the preparations," and made them sensible, " That though he spent his hours of leisure in a cheerful manner with his friends, his liberal way of living had not caused him to neglect any great or important business." With this defense the commissioners were satis- fied, and he set sail for Africa. As for Cato, he continued to gain so much in- fluence and authority by his eloquence, that he was commonly called the Roman Demosthenes; but he was still more celebrated for his manner of living. His excellence as a speaker awakened a general emulation among the youih to distin- guish themselves the same way. and to surpass each other: but few were willing to imitate him in the ancient custom of tilling the field with their own hands, in eating a dinner prepared with- out fire, and a spare frugal supper; few, like him, could be satisfied with a plain dress and a poor cottage, or think it more honorable not to want the superfluities of life, than to possess them*. For the commonwealth now no longer retained its primitive purity and integrity, by reason of the vast extent of its dominions; the many dif- ferent affairs under its management, and the infi- nite number of people that were subject to its command, had introduced a great variety of cus- toms and modes of living. Justly, therefore, was Cato entitled to admiration, when the other citi- zens were frightened at labor, and enervated by pleasure, and he alone was unconquered by either, not only while young and ambitious, but when old and gray-haired, after his consulship and tri- umph; like a brave wrestler, who after he has come off conqueror, observes the common rules, and continues his exercises to the last. He himself tells us that he never wore a gar- ment that cost him more then a hundredf/racA/me; that even when praetor or consul he drank the same wine with his slaves; that a dinner never cost him from the market above thirty ases, and that he was thus frugal for the sake of his coun- try, that he might be able to endure the harder services in war. He adds, that having got, among some goods he was heir to, a piece of Babylon tapestry, he sold it immediately; that the walls of his country-houses were neither plastered nor white- washed; that he never gave more for a slave than fifteen hundred drachmas, as not re- quiring in his servants delicate shapes and fine faces, but strength and ability to labor, that they might be fit to be employed in his stables about his cattle, or such like business; and these he thought proper to sell again when they grew old,* that he might have no useless persons to main- tain. In a word, he thought nothing cheap that was superfluous; that what a man has no need of is dear even at a penny; and that it is much bet- * Cato says, in express terms, "A master of a familj should sell his old oxen, and all the horned cattle that are of a delicate frame; all his sheep that are not hardy, their wool, their very pelts; he shonld sell his old wagons, and his old instruments of husbandry; he shonld sell such of his slaves as were old and inrirmj and every thins else that is old and useless. A master of a family should love to sell, not to buy." What a fine contrast there is between the spirit of this old stoic, and that of the liberal-minded, the benevolent Plutarch! PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ter to have fields where the plow goes, or cattle feed, than fine gardens and walks that require much watering and sweeping. Some imputed these things to a narrowness of spirit, while others supposed that he betook him- self to this contracted manner of living, in order to correct, by his example, the growing luxury of the age. For my part, I cannot but charge his using his servants like so many beasts of burden, and turning them off, or selling them, when grown old, to the account of a mean and ungenerous spirit, which thinks that the sole tie between man and man is interest or necessity. But goodness moves in a larger sphere than justice: the obli- gations of law and equity reach only to mankind, but kindness and beneficence should be extended to creatures of every species; and these still flow from the breast of a well-natured man, as streams that issue from the living fountain. A good man will take care of his horses and dogs, not only while they are young, but when old and past service. Thus the people of Athens, when they had finished the temple called Hecatompedon, set at liberty the beasts of burden that had been chiefly employed in that work, suffering them to pasture at large, free from any further service. It is said, that one of these afterward came of its own accord to work, and putting itself at the head of tbe laboring cattle, marched before them to the citadel. This pleased the people, and they made a decree that it should be kept at the public charge as long as it lived. The graves of Cimon's mares, with which he thrice conquered at the Olympic games, are still to be seen near his own tomb. Many have shown particular marks of regard in burying the dogs which they have che- rished and been fond of; and among the rest, Xanthippus of old, whose dog swam by the side of his galley to Salamis, when the Athenians were forced to abandon their city, was afterward buried by his master upon a promontory, which to this day, is called the dog's grave. VVe cer- tainly ought not to treat living creatures like slices or household goods, which, when worn out with use, we throw away; and, were it only to learn benevolence to human kind, we should be merciful to other creatures. For my own part, I would not sell even an old ox that had labored for me; much less would I remove, for the sake of a little money, a man grown old in my service, from his usual place and diet; for to him, poor man! it would be as bad as banishment; since he could be 'f no more use to the buyer than he was to the .eller. But Cato, as if he took a pride in these hings, tells us, that, when consul, he left his war- Horse, in Spain, to save the public the charge of nis freight. Whether such things as these are instances of greatness or littleness of soul, let the reader judge for himself. He was, however, a man of wonderful tempe- rance. For, when general of the army, he took no more from the public, for himself and those about him, than three Attic medimni of wheat a month; and less than a medimnus and a half of barley for his horses. And when he was govern- or of Sardinia, though his predecessors had put the province to a very great expense for pavilions, bedding and apparel, and still more by the number of friends and servants they had about them, and by the great and sumptuous entertainments they gave, he, on the contrary, was as remarkable for his frugality. Indeed, he put the public to no manner of charge. Instead of making use of a carriage, he walked from one town to another, attended only by one officer, who carried his robe aad a vessel for libations. But if iu these things he appeared plain and easy to those who were under his command, he preserved a gravity and severity in everything else. For he was inexora- ble in whatever related to public justice, and in- flexibly rigid in the execution of his orders; so that the Roman government had never be;ore appeared to that people either so awful or so amiable.* This contrast was found, not only in his man ners but in his style, which was elegant, facetious, and familiar, and at the same time grave, nervous, and sententious. Thus Plato tells us, " the outside of Socrates was that of a satyr and buffoon, but his soul was all virtue, and from within him came such divine and pathetic things as pierced the heart, and drew tears from the hearers." And as the same may justly be affirmed of Cato, I can- not comprehend their meaning, who compare his language to that of Lysias/ I leave this, however, to be decided by those who are more capable than myself of judging of the several sorts of styles used among the Romans: and being persuaded that a man's disposition may be discovered much better by his speech than by his looks, (though some are of a different opinion), I shall set down some of Cato's remarkable sayings. One day when the Romans clamored violently and unseasonably for a distribution of corn, to dissuade them from it, he thus began his address; It is a difficult task, my fellow-citizens, to speak to the belly, because it hath no ears. Another tirre, complaining of the luxury of the Romans, he said, It was a hard matter to save that city from ruin where a fish was sold for more than an ox. On another occasion, he said, The Roman people were like sheep, for as those can scarce be brought to stir singly, but all in a body readily follow their leaders, just such are ye. The men whose counsel you would not take as individuals, lead you with ease in a crowd. Speaking of the power of wo- men, he said, All men naturally govern the women, we govern all men, and our wives govern us. Baf this might be taken from the Apophthegms of The- mistocles. For, his son directing in most things, through his mother, he said, The Athenians govern the Greeks, / govern the Athenians, you, wife, go- vern me, and your son governs you: let him, then, use that power with moderation, which, child as h is, sets him above, all the Greeks. Another of Ca- to's sayings was, That the Roman people fixed the value, not only of the several kinds of colors, but of the arts and sciences. For, added he, as the dyers dye that sort of purple which is most agreeable to you, so our youth only study and strive to excel -in such things as you esteem and commend. Exhort- ing the people to virtue, he sai;i, If it is by virtue and temperance that you are become great, change not for the worse', but if by intemperance and vice, change for the better; for you are already great enough by such means as these. Of such as were perpetually soliciting for great offices, he said, Liks men who knew not their way, they wanted liclors always to conduct them. He found fault with the people for often choosing the same persons con- suls; You either, said he, think the consulate of little worth, or that there are but few worthy of the consulate. Concerning one of his enemies who led a very profligate and infamous life, he said, His mother takes it for a curse and not a prayer, when any one wishes this son may survive her Pointing to a man who had sold a paternal estate near the sea-side, he pretended to admire him, as * His only amusement was to hear the instructions of tha CEnnius, under whom he learned the Greek sciences, banished usurers from Ids province, and reduced Ui interest upon loans almost to nothing. CATO THE CENSOR. 239 eae that WAS stronger than the sea itself; For, Mid htt..wkat the sea could not have swallowed with- out difficulty, this man has taken down with all the ease imaginable. When king Eumenes* came to Rome, tiie senate received him with extraordinary respect, and the great men strove which should do him the most honor, but Cato visibly neglected and shunned him. Upon which somebody said, Why do you shun. Eumenes, who is so good a man, and so great a friend to the Romans? That may be, answered Cato, but I look upon a king as a creature that feeds upon human Jlesh; and of all, the kings that have been so much cried up, I jind not one to be compared with an Epaminondas, a Peri- cles, a T/temistocles, a Manius Curius, or with Hamil.car, surnamed Barcas. He used to say, that his enemies hated him because he neglected his own concerns, and rose before day to mind those of the public. But that he had rather his good actions should go unrewarded, than his bad ones unpun- ished; and that he pardoned every body's faults sooner than his own. The Romans having sent three ambassadors to the king of Bythinia, of whom one had the gout, another had his skull trepanned, and the third was reckoned little better than a fool, Cato smiled and said, They had sent jw embassy which had neither feet, head nor heart. When Scipio applied to him, at the request of Polybius, in behalf of the Achaean exiles,f and the matter was much canvassed in the senate, some speaking for their being restored, and some against it, Cato rose up, and said, As if we had nothing else to do, we sit here all day debating whether a few poor old Greeks should be buried by our grave-diggers or those of their own country. The senate then decreed that the exiles should return home; and Polybius, some days after, en- deavored to procure another meeting of that re- spectable body, to restore those exiles to their former honors in Achaia. Upon this affair he sounded Cato, who answered smiling, This was just as if Ulysses should have wanted to enter the Cyclop's cave again for a hat and a belt which he had left behind. It was a saying of his, That wise men learn more from fools, than fools from the wise; for the wise avoid the error of fools, while fools do not proft by the examples of the wise. Another of his sayings was, That he liked a young man that blushed, more than one that turned pate: and that he did not like a soldier wfto moved his hands in marching, and his feet in fighting, and who snored louder in bed than he shouted in. battle. Jesting upon a very fat man, he said, Of what service to his country can such a body be, icldch is nothing but belly? When an epicure desired to be admitted into his friendship, he said. He could not live with a man whose palate had quicker sensations than his heart. He used to say, The soul of a lover lived in the body of another. And that in all his life he never repented but of three things: the first was, that he had trusted a woman with a secret; the second, that he had gone by sea, when he might have gone by tand; and the third, that he had passed one day aithout having a will by him.$ To an old * Eumeiu s went to Rome in the year of Rome 815. Cato was then thirty-nine years old. t'l'he Aeh*"ans, in'the first year of the hundred and fifty- third Olympiad, entered into measures for delivering lip their country to the king of Persia; but, being discovered, a thousand of them were seized, and compelled to live eiiles in Italy. There they continued seventeen years; after which, about three hundred, who were still living, were restored ly a decree of the senate, which was particu- larly made in f;ivor of Polybius, who was one of the num- ber t This has bev.n misunderstood by all the translators who have agreed in Hindering it, "that he had pasted one day %.*' debauchee, he said, Old age has deformities enough of its own: do not add to it the deformity of vice. A tribune of the people, who had the character of a poisoner, proposing a bad law, and taking great pains to have it passed, Cato said to him, Young man, I know not which is most dangerous, to drink what you mix, or to enact what you propose. Being scurrilously treated by a man who led a dissolute and infamous life, he said, It is upon very unequal terms that I contend with you: for you are accus- tomed to be spoken ill of, and can speak it with plea- sure; but with me it is unusual to hear it, and dis- agreeable to speak it. Such was the manner of his repartees and short sayings. Being appointed consul along with his friend Valerius Flaccus, the government of that part of Spain which the Romans call citerior, hither, fell to his Jot.* While he was subduing some of the nations there by arms, and winning others by kindness, a great army of barbarians fell upon him, and he was in danger of being driven out in dishonor. On this occasion he sent to desire suc- cors of his neighbors the Celtiberians, who de- manded two hundred talents for that service. All the officers of his army thought it intolerable, that the Romans should be obliged to purchase assist- ance of the barbarians: but Cato said, It is no such great hardship; for if we conquer, we shall pay them at the enemy's expense; and if we are conquered, there will be nobody either to pay, or make the de- mand. He gained the battle, and everything afterward succeeded to his wish. Polybius tells us, that the walls of all the Spanish towns on this side the river Bsetis were razed by his command in one day,f notwithstanding the towns were numerous, and their inhabitants brave; Cato him- self says, he took more cities than he spent days in Spain: nor is it a vain boast; for they were ac- tually no fewer than four hundred. Though this campaign afforded the soldiers great booty, he gave each of them a pound weight of silver beside, saying It was better that many of the Romans should return with silver in their pockets, than a few with gold. And for his own part, he assures us, that of all that was taken in the war, nothing came to his share but what he eat and drank. Not that 1 blame, says he, those that seek their own advantage in these things; but I had rather contend for valor with, the brave, than for wealth with the tich, or in rapaciousness with the covetous. And he not only kept himself clear t>f extortion, but all that were immediately under his direction. He had five servants with him in this expedition, one of whom named Paccus, had purchased three boys that were among the prisoners- but when he knew that his master was informed of it, unable to bear the thoughts of coming into his presence, he hanged himself. Upon which Cato sold the boys, and put the money into the public treasury. While he was settling the affairs of Spain, * As Cato's troops consisted, for the most part, of raw soldiers, he took great pains to discipline them, considering that they had to deal with the Spaniards, who, in their wars with the Romans and Carthaginians, had learned the military art, and were naturally brave and courageous. Before he came to action, he sent away his fleet, that his soldiers might place all their hopes in their valor. With the same view, when he came near the enemy, he took a compass, and posted his army behind them in the plain; so that the Spaniards were between him and his camp. t As the dread of his name procured him great respect in all the provinces beyond the Iberus, he wrote the same daV private letters to the commanders of several fortified towns, ordering them to demolish, without delay, their fortifica-' tions; and assuring them that he would "pardon none bnt\ such as readily complied with his orders. Every one of the > commanders, believing the order* to be sent only to hiimelf, immediately beat down their walls and towers. lAv. 1. xxxiv. c. 15. 240 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Scipio the Great who was his enemy, and wanted to break the course of his success, and have the finishing of the war himself, managed matters so as to get himself appointed his successor. After which he made all possible haste to take the com- mand of the army from him. But Cato hearing of his march, took five companies of foot, and five hundred horse, as a convoy to attend upon Scipio, and as he went to meet him, defeated the Lace- taniitns, and took among them six hundred Ro- man deserters, whom he caused to be put to death. And upon Scipio's expressing his displeasure at this, he answered ironically, Rome would be great indeed, if men of birth would not yield the palm of virtue to the commonalty, and if plebeians, like him- self, would contend for excellence with men of birth and quality. Beside, as the senate had decreed, that nothing should be altered which Cato had ordered and established, the post which Scipio had made so much interest for, rather tarnished his own glory than that of Cato; for he continued inactive during that government. In the meantime, Cato was honored with a triumph. But he did not act afterward like those whose ambition is only for fame, and not for virtue, and who having reached the highest honors, borne the office of consul, and led up triumphs, with- draw from public business, and give up the rest of their days to ease and pleasure. On the con- trary, like those who are just entered upon busi- ness, and thirst for honor and renown, he exerted himself as if he was beginning his race anew, his services being always ready both for his friends in particular, and for the citizens in general, either at the bar, or in the field. For he went with the Consul Tiberius Sempronius to Thrace and the Danube,* as his lieutenant. And, as a legionary Tribune, he attended Manias Acilius Glabrio into Greece, in the war against Antiochus the Great; who, next to Hannibal, was the most formidable enemy the Romans ever had. For having re- covered almost all the provinces of Asia which Seleucus Nicanor had possessed, and reduced many warlike nations of barbarians, he was so much elated as to think the Romans the only match for him in the field. Accordingly he crossed the sea with a powerful army, coloring his design with the specious pretense of restoring liberty to the Greeks, of which, however, they stood in no need; for being lately delivered by the favor of the Romans from the yoke of Philip and the Macedonians, they were free already, and were governed by their own laws. At his approach, all Greece was in great com- motion, and unresolved how to act; being cor- rupted with the splendid hopes infused by the orators whom Antiochus had gained. Acilius, therefore, sent ambassadors to the several states; Titus Flaminius appeased the disturbances, and kept most of the Greeks in the Roman interest, without using any violent means, as I have related in his life ; and Cato confirmed the people of Corinth, as well as those of PatraB and JEg'mm in their duty. He also made a considerable stay at Athens; and it is said, there is still extant a speech of his, which he delivered to the Athenians in Greek, expressing his admiration of the virtue of their ancestors, and his satisfaction in beholding the beauty and grandeur of their city. But this account is not true, for he spoke to them by an interpreter. Not that he was ignorant of Greek; but chose to adhere to the customs of his coun- try, and laugh at those who admired nothing but * The year after his consulship, and the second year of the hundred and forty-sixth Olympiad. what was Greek. He, therefore, ridiculed Pos- thumius Albanus, who had written a history in that language, and made an apology for the im- proprieties of expression, saying, He ought to bt pardoned, if he wrote it by command of the Am- phictyons. We are assured that the Athenians admired the strength and conciseness of his lan- guage; for what he delivered in few words, the interpreter was obliged to make use of many to explain; insomuch that he left them in the opinion, that the expressions of the Greeks flowed only from the lips, while those of the Romans came from the heart.* Antiochus having blocked up the narrow pass of Thermopylae with his troops, and added walls and entrenchments to the natural fortifications of the place, sat down there unconcerned, thinking the war could not touch him. And, indeed, the Romans despaired of forcing the pass. But Cato recollecting the circuit the Persians had taken on a like occasion,! set out in the night with a proper detachment. When they had advanced a considerable hight, the guide, who was one of the prisoners, missed his way, and wandering about among impractica- ble places and precipices, threw the soldiers into inexpressible dread and despair. Cato seeing the danger, ordered his forces to halt, while he with one Lucius Manlius, who was dextrous in climbing the steep mountains, i went forward with great difficulty and at the hazard of his life, at midnight, without any moon; scrambling among wild olive trees and steep rocks that still more impeded his view, and added darkness to the obscurity. At last they hit upon a path which seemed to lead down to the enemy's camp. There they set up marks upon some of the most con- spicuous rocks on the top of the mountain Calli- dromus, and returning the same way, took the whole parly with them; whom they conducted by the direction of the marks, and so regained the little path; where they made a proper disposition of the troops. They had marched but a little far- ther, when the path failed them, and they saw nothing before them but a precipice which dis- tressed them still more; for they could not yet perceive that they were near the enemy. The day now began to appear, when one of them thought he heard the sound of human voices, and a little after they saw the Grecian camp, and the advance guard at the foot of the rock. Cato, therefore, made a halt, and sent to acquaint the Firmians that he wanted to speak with them in private.)] These were troops whose fidelity and courage he had experienced on the most danger- ous occasions. They hastened into his presence, when he thus addressed them: " I want to take one of the enemy alive, to learn of him who they are that compose this advance guard, and how many in number; and to be informed what is the disposition and order of their whole army, and what preparations they have made to receive us; * There cannot be a stronger instance than this, that the brief expression of the Spartans was owing to the native simplicity of their manners, and the sincerity of their hearts. It was the expression of nature Artificial and circumlocu- tory expressions, like licentious paintings, are the conse- quences of licentious life. t In the Persian war, Leonidas, with three hundred Spar- tans only, sustained the shock of an innumerable multitude in the pass of Thermopylae, until the barbarians, fetching a compass round the mountains by by-ways, came upon him behind, and cut his party in pieces. t The mountains to the east of the Straits of Thermopyhe are comprehended under the name of Oeta, and the highest of them is called Callidromus, at the foot of which is a road sixty feet broad. Liv. 1. x.xxvi. c. 15. I! Finnium was a Romau colony \\ CATO THE CENSOR. 241 but the business requires the speed and impetuos- ity of lions, who rush into a herd of timorous beasts." When Cato had done speaking, the Firmians, without further preparation, poured down the mountain, surprised the advanced guard, dispersed them, took one, armed man, and brought him to Cato. The prisoner informed him, that the main body of the army was encamped with the king in the narrow pass, and that the detachment which guarded the bights, consisted of six hundred select ^Etolians. Cato, despising these troops, as well on account of their small number, as their negli- gence, drew his sword, and rushed upon them with all the alarm of voices and trumpets. The ^Etolians no sooner saw him descend from the mountains, than they fled to the main body .and put the whole in the utmost confusion. At the same time Manius forced the intrench- ments of Antiochns below, and poured into the pass with his army. Antiochua himself being wounded in the mouth with a stone, and having some of his teeth struck out, the anguish obliged him to turn his horse and retire. After his re- treat, no part of his army could stand the shock of the Romans ; and though there appeared no hopes of escaping by flight, by reason of the straitness of the road, the deep marshes on one side and rocky precipices on the other, yet they crowded along through those narrow pas- sages, and pushing each other down, perished mis- erably, out of fear of being destroyed by the Ro- mans. Cato, who was never sparing in his own praises, and thought boasting a natural attendant on great actions, is very pompous in his account of this exploit. He says, "That those who saw him charging the enemy, routing and pursuing them, declared, that Cato owed less to the people of Rome, than the people of Rome owed to Cato; and that the Consul Manius himself, coming hot from the fight, took him in his arms as he too came panting from the action, and embracing him a long time, cried out, in a transport of joy, that neither he nor the whole Roman people could suf- ficiently reward Cato's merit." Immediately after the battle, the Consul sent him with an account of it to Rome, that he might be the first to carry the news of his own achievements. With a favorable wind he sailed to Brundusium; from thence he reached Taren- tum in one day: and having traveled four days more, he arrived at Rome the fifth day after he landed, and was the first that brought the news of the victory. His arrival filled the city with sa- crifices and other testimonies of joy, and gave the people so high an opinion of themselves, that they now believed there could be no bounds to their em- pire or their power. These are the most remarkable of Cato's actions; and, with respect to civil affairs, he appears to have thought the impeaching of offenders, and bringing them to justice, a thing that well de- served his attention. For he prosecuted several and encouraged and assisted others in carrying on their prosecutions. Thus he set up Petilius against Scipio the Great; but secure in the dignity of his family, and his own greatness of mind, Scipio treated the accusation with the utmost con- tempt. Cato, perceiving he would not be capitally condemned, dropped the prosecution; but with some others who assisted him in the cause, im- peached his brother Lucius Scipko, who was sen- tenced to pay a fine which his circumstances could not answer, so that he was in danger of imprisonment; aud it was not without great diffi- 16 culty and appealing to the Tribunes, that he was dismissed. We have also an account of a young man *vho had procured a verdict against an enemy of him father who was lately dead, and had him stigma- tized. Cuto met him as he was passing through the forum, and taking him by the hand, addressed him in these words: "It is thus we are to sacrifice to the ma.nes of our parents, not with the blood of goats and lambs, but with the tears and condem- nation of their enemies." Cato, however, did not escape these attacks; but when in the business of the state he gave the least handle, was certainly prosecuted, and some- times in danger of being condemned. For it is said that near fifty impeachments were brought against him, and the last, when he was eighty-six years of age: on which occasion he made use of that memorable expression: "It is hard that 1 who have lived with men of one generation, should be obliged to make my defense to those of another." Nor was this the end of his contests at the bar; for, four years after, at the age of ninety,* he im- peached Servilius Galba: so that, like Nestor, he lived three generations, and, like him, was always in action. In short, after having constantly op- posed Scipio, in matters of government, he lived until the time of young Scipio, his adopted grand- son, and son of Paulus ^Emiiius, who conquered Perseus and the Macedonians. Ten years after his Consulship, Cato stood for the office of Censor, which was the highest dignity in the republic. For, beside the other power and authority that attended this office, it gave the magistrate a right of inquiry into the lives and manners of the citizens. The Romans did not think it proper that any one should be left to fol- low his own inclinations without inspection or control, either in marriage, in the procreation of children, in his table, or in the company he kept. But, convinced that in these private scenes of life a man's real character was much more distinguish- able than in his public and political transactions, they appointed two magistrates, the one out of the patricians, and the other out of the plebeians, to inspect, to correct, and to chastise such as they found giving in to dissipation and licentiousness and deserting the ancient and established manner of living. These great officers they called Cen- sors: and they had power to deprive a Roman knight of his horse, or to expel a senator that led a vicious and disorderly life. They likewise took an estimate of each citizen's estate, and enrolled them according to their pedigree, quality, and condition. This office has several other great prerogatives annexed to it; and therefore when Cato solicited it, the principal senators opposed him. The mo- tive to this opposition with some of the Patricians was envy: for they imagined it would be a dis- grace to the nobility, if persons of a mean and ob- scure origin were elevated to the highest honor in the state; with others it was fear; for, conscious that their lives were vicious, and that they had de- parted from the ancient simplicity of manners, they dreaded the austerity of Catof because they believed he would be stern and inexorable in his * Plutarch here is not consistent with himself. Toward the beginning of his life, he says that Cato was but seven- teen years old at the lime of Hannibal*! success in Italy: and at the conclusion, he tells us that Cato died just at the beginning of the third Punic war. But Hannibal' came into Italy in the year of Rome 534; and the third Tunic war broke out seventy years after, in the year of Rome 604. According to this computation, Cato could not be more than eighty-seven years old when he died; ani this account is confirmed by Cicero. 242 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. office. Having consulted and prepared their mea- sures they put up seven candidates in opposition to Calo. and imagining thatthe people wanted to be governed by an easy hand, they soothed them with hopes of a mild Censorship. Cato, on the contrary, without condescending to the least flat- tery or complaisance, ia his speeches from the rostrum, professed his resolution to punish every instance of vice; and loudly declaring that the city wanted great reformation, conjured the peo- ple if they were wisa, to choose not the mildest but the severest physician. He told them that he was one of that character, and, among the patri- cians, Valerius Flaccus was another; and that, with him for his colleague, and him only, he could hope to render good service to the common- wealth, by effectually cutting off, like another hydra, the spreading luxury and effeminacy of the times. He added, tliat he saw others pressing into the Censorship, in order to exercise that office in a bad manner, because they were afraid of such as would discharge it faithfully. The Roman people, on this occasion, showed themselves truly great, and worthy of the best of leaders; for, far from dreading the severity of this inflexible man, they rejected those smoother can- didates that seemed ready to consult their plea- sure in everything, and chose Valerius Flaccus with Cato; attending to the latter, not as a man that solicited the office of Censor, but as one who already possessed of it, gave out his orders by vir- tue of his authority. The first thing Cato did, was to name his friend and colleague, Lucius Valerius Flaccus, chief of the senate, and to expel many others the house; particularly Lucius Quintals, who had been Con- sul seven years before, and, what was still a greater honor, was brother to Titus Fiaminius,* who overthrew king Philip. ***** * * * * * He expelled also Manlius, another senator, whom the general opinion had marked out for Consul, because he had given his wife a kiss in the day-time, in the sight of his daughter. "For his own part," he said, "his wife never embraced him br.t when it thundered dreadfully," adding, by way of joke, "That he was happy when Jupi- ter pleased to thunder." He was censured as having merely indulged his envy, when lie degraded Lucius, who was brother to Scipio the great, and had been honored with a triumph; for he took from him his horse; and it was believed that he did it to insult the memory of Scipio Africanus. But there was another thing that rendered him more generally obnoxious, ami that was the reformation he introduced in point of luxury. It was impossible for him to begin his attack upon it openly, because the whole body of the people was infected, and therefore he took ,an indirect method. He caused an estimate to be taken of all apparel, carriages, female ornaments, furniture, and utensils; and whatever exceeded fifteen hundred drachmas in value, he rated at ten times as much, and imposed a tax according to that valuation. For every thousand uses he made them pay three; that finding themselves burdened witli the tax, while the modest and frugal, with equal substance, paid much less to the public, they might be induced to retrench their appearance. This procured him many enemies, not only among those who, rather than part with their luxury, ubmitted to the tax, but among those who les- * Polyblas, Livy, and Cicero make the surname of this family Fiaminius. sened the expense of their figure, to avoid ii For the generality of mankind think that prohi- bition to show their wealth is the same thing as taking it away, and that opulence is seen in the superfluities, not in the necessaries of life. And this (we are told) was what surprised Aristo i the philosopher; for he could not comprehend why those that are possessed of superfluities should be accounted happy, rather than such as abound in what is necessary and useful. But Scopas the Thessalian, when one of his friends asked him for something that could be of little use to him, and gave him that as a reason why he should grant his request, made answer, "It is in these useless and superfluous things that I am rich and happy." Thus the desire of wealth, far from being a natu- ral passion, is a foreign and adventitious one, aris- ing from vulgar opinion. Cato paid no regard to these complaints, but became still more severe and rigid. He cut off the pipes by which people conveyed water from the public fountains into their houses and gardens, and demolished all the buildings that projected out into the streets. He lowered the price of pub- lic works, and farmed out the public revenues at the highest rate they could bear. By these things he brought upon himself the hatred of vast num- bers of people: so that Titus Flaminius and his party attacked him, and prevailed with the .senate to annul the contracts he had made for repairing the temples and public buildings, as detrimental to the state. Nor did they stop here, but incited the boldest of the Tribunes to accuse him to the people, and fine him two talents. They likewise opposed him very much in his building, at the public charge, a hall below the senate-house by the forum, which he finished notwithstanding, anc called the Porcian hall. The people, however, appear to have been high- ly pleased with his behavior in his office. Foi when they erected his statue in the temple of Health, they made no mention on the pedestal, of his victories and his triumph, but the inscription was to this effect: "In honor of Cato the Censor who, when the Roman commonwealth was de- generating into licentiousness, by good discipline and wise institutions restored it." Before this, he laughed at those who were fond of such honors, and said, "They were not aware that they plumed themselves upon the workman- ship of founders, statuaries, and painters, while the Romans bore about a more glorious image of him in their hearts." And to those that express- ed their wonder, that while many persons of little note had their statues, Cato had none, he said, He had much rather it should be asked, why he had not a statue, than why he had one. In short, he was of opinion, that a good citizen should not .even accept of his due praise, unless it tended to the advantage of the community. Yet of all men he was the most forward to commend himself: for he tells us, that those who were guilty of misdemeanors, and afterward reproved for them, used to say, "They were excusable; they were not Catos:" and that such as imitated some of his actions, but did it awk- wardly, were called Left-handed Catos. He adds, "That the senate, in difficult and dangerous times, used to cast their eyes upon him, as passengers in ships do upon the pilot in a storm:" and "That when he happened to be absent, they frequently put off the consideration of matters of importance " These particulars, indeed, are confirmed by other writers; for his life, his eloquence, and his age, gave him reat authority in Rome. He was a good father, a good husband, and an excellent economist. And as he did not think the CATO THE CENSOR. 243 rare of his famil y a mean and trifling thing, which required only a superficial attention, it may be of use to give some account of his conduct in that respect. He chose his wife rather for her family than her fortune; persuaded, that though both the rich and the high-born have their pride, yet women of good families are more ashamed of any base and unworthy action, and more obedient to their husbands in everything that is good and honorable. He used to say, that they who beat their wives or children, laid their sacrilegious hands on the most sacred things in the world; and that he preferred the character of a good husband to that of a great senator. And he admired nothing more in Soc- rates than his living in an easy and quiet manner with an ill-tempered wife and stupid children. When he had a son born, no business, however urgent, except it related to the public, could hinder him from being present while his wife washed and swaddled the infant. For she suckled it herself; nay, she often gave the breast to the sons of her servants, to inspire them with a brotherly regard for her own. As soon as the dawn of understanding ap- peared, Cato took upon him the office of school- master to his son, though he had a slave named Chilo, who was a good grammarian, and taught several other children. But he tells us, he did not choose that his son should be reprimanded by a slave, or pulled by the ears, if he happened to be slow in learning; or that he should be indebted to so mean a person for his education. He was, therefore, himself his preceptor in grammar, in law, and in the necessary exercises. For he taught him not only how to throw a dart, to fight hand to hand, and to ride, but to box, to endure heat and cold, and to swim the most rapid rivers. He fur- ther acquaints us, that he wrote histories for him with his own hand, in large characters, that, with- out stirring out of his father's house he might gain a knowledge of the great actions of the an- cient Romans and of the customs of his country. He was as careful not to utter an indecent word before his son, as he would have been in the pre- sence of the vestal virgins; nor did he ever bathe with him. A regard to decency in this respect was, indeed, at that time general among the Ro- mans. For even sons-in-law avoided bathing with their fathers-in-law, not choosing to appear naked before them; but afterward the Greeks taught them not to be so scrupulous in uncover- ing themselves, and they in their turn taught the Greeks to bathe naked even before the women. While Cato was taking such excellent measures for forming his son to virtue, he found him natu- rally ductile both in genius and inclination; but as his body was too weak to undergo much hard- ship, his father was obliged to relax the severity of his discipline, and to indulge him a little in point of diet. Yet, with this constitution, he was an excellent soldier, and particularly distinguished himself under Faulus JErnilius in the battle against Perseus. On this occasion, his sword happening to be struck from his hand, the moisture of which prevented him from grasping it firmly, he turned to some of his companions with great concern, and begged their assistance in recovering it. He then rushed with them into the midst of the enemy, and having, with extraordinary efforts, cleared the place where the sword was lost, he found it, with much difficulty, under heaps of arms, and dead bodies of friends, as well as enemies, piled upon each other. Paulus ^Emilius admired this gallant action of the young man; and there to a letter still extant, written by Cato to his son, n which he extremely commends his high senso of honor expressed in the recovery of that sword. The young man afterward married Tertia, daugh- ter to Paulus ^Emilius, and sister to young Scipio; the honor of which alliance was as much owing to his own as to his father's merit. Thus Cato's care in the education of his son answered the end jroposed. He had many slaves which he purchased among the captives taken in war, always choosing the youngest and such as were most capable of in- struction, like whelps or colts that may be trained at pleasure. None of these slaves ever went into any other man's house except they were sent by Cato or his wife, and if any of them was askea what his master was doing, he always answered he did not know. For it was a rule with Cato to have his slaves either employed in the house or asleep, and he liked those best that slept the most kindly, believing that they were better tempered than others that had not so much of that refresh- ment, and fitter for any kind of business. And as he knew that slaves will stick at nothing to gratify their passion for women, he allowed them to have the company of his female slaves, upon paying a certain price; but under a strict prohibi- tion of approaching any other women. When he was a young soldier, and as yet in low circumstances, he never found fault with anything that was served up to his table, but thought it a shame to quarrel with a servant on account of his palate. Yet afterward, when he was possessed of an easy fortune, and made en- tertainments for his principal officers, as soon as dinner was over, he never failed to correct with leathern thongs such of his slaves as had not given due attendance, or had suffered anything to be spoiled. He contrived means to raise quarrels among his servants, and to keep them at variance, ever suspecting and fearing some bad consequence from their unanimity; and, when any of them were guilty of a capital crime, he gave them a formal trial, and put them to death in the presence of their fellow-servants. As his thirst after wealth increased, and he found that agri- culture was rather amusing than profitable, he turned his thoughts to surer dependen- cies, and employed his money in purchasing ponds, hot-baths, places proper for fullers, and estates in good condition, having pasture ground and wood-lands. From these he had a great revenue, such a one, he used to say, as Jupiter himself could not disappoint him of. He practiced usury upon ships in the most blamable manner. His method was to insist, that those whom he furnished with money, should take a great number into partnership. When there were full fifty of them, and as many ships, he demanded a share for himself, which he man- aged by Qnintio, his freedman, who sidled and trafficked along with them. Thus, though his gain was great, he did not risk his capital, but only a small part of it. He likewise lent money to such of his slaves as chose it; and they employed it in purchas- ing boys who were afterward 'instructed and fit- ted for service at Cato's expense; and being sold at the year's end by auction, Cato took several of them himself, at the price of -the highest bidder, deducting it out of what he had lent. To in- cline his son to the same economy, he told him^ That to diminish his substance was not the part of a man, but of a widow woman. Yet he carried onthe thing to extravagance, when he hazarded this assertion, That the man truly wonderful and god- like t and ft to be registered in the lists of glory. 244 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. was he, by whose accounts it should at last appear } that he, had more than doubled what he had received from his ancestors. When Cato was very far advanced in years, there arrived at Rome, two ambassadors from Athens,* Carneades the Academic, and Diogenes the Stoic. They were sent to beg off a fine of five handled talents which had been imposed on the Athenians, for contumacy, by the Sicyo- nians, at the suit of the people of Oropus.f Upon the arrival of these philosophers, such of the Roman youth as had a taste for learning went to wait on them, and heard them with wonder and delight. Above all, they were charmed with the graceful manners of Carneades, the force of whose eloquence, being great, and his reputation equal to his eloquence, had drawn an audience of the most considerable and the politest persons in Rome; and the sound of his fame, like a mighty wind, had filled the whole city. The report ran, that there was come from Greece a man of astonishing powers, whose eloquence, more than human, was able to ?often and disarm the fiercest passions, and who had made so strong an impression upon the youth, that, forgetting all other pleasures and diversions, they were quite possessed with an en- thusiastic love of philosophy. The Romans were delighted to find it so; nor could they without uncommon pleasure behold their sons thus fondly receive the Grecian litera- ture, and follow these wonderful men. But Cato, from the beginning, was alarmed at it. He no sooner perceived this passion for Grecian learn- ing prevail, but he was afraid that the youth would turn their ambition that way, and prefer the glory of eloquence to that of deeds of arms. But when he found that the reputation of these phi- losophers rose still higher, and their first speeches were translated into Latin, by Caius Acilius,a senator of great distinction, who had earnestly begged the favor of interpreting them, he had no longer patience, but resolved to dismiss these philosophers upon some decent and specious pre- tense. He went, therefore, to the senate, and com- plained of the magistrates for detaining so long buch ambassadors as those, who could persuade the people to whatever they pleased, "You ought," said he, "to determine their affair as speedily as possible, that returning to their schools they may hold forth to the Grecian youth, and that our young men may again give attention to the laws and the magistrates." Not that Cato was in- duced to this by any particular pique to Carnea- des, which some suppose to have been the case, but by his aversion to philosophy, and his making it a point to show his contempt of the polite studies and learning of the Greeks. Nay, he scrupled not to affirm, "That Socrates himself was a prating, seditious fellow, who used his utmost endeavors to tyrannize over his country, by abolishing its customs, and drawing the people over to opinions contrary to the laws." And, to ridicule the, slow methods of Isocrates's teach- ing, he said, "His scholars grew old in learning their art, as if they intended to exercise it in the shades below, and to plead causes there." And to dissuade his son from those studies, he told him in a louder tone than could be expected from a man of his age, and as it were, in an oracular and prophetic way, That when the Romans came thor- oughly to imbibe the Grecian literature, they would ose the empire of the world. But time has shown he vanity of that invidious assertion; foi Rome was never at a higher pitch of greatness, than when she was most perfect in the Grecian erudi- tion, and most attentive to all manner of leani- ng.* Nor was Cato an enemy to the Grecian ph-i- osophers only, but looked upon the physicians also with a suspicious eye. He had heard, it seems, of the answer which Hippocrates gave the ting of Persia, when he sent for him, and offered lim a reward of many talents, "I will never make use of my art in favor of barbarians who are enemies to the Greeks." This he had said was n oath which all the physicians had taken, and therefore he advised his son to beware of them all. He added, that he himself had written a little treatise, in which he had set down his method of cure,f and the regimen he prescribed, when any of his family fell sick; that he never recommended fasting, but allowed them herbs, with duck, pigeon, or hare: such kind of diet being light and suitable for sick people, having no other incon- venience but its making them dream; and that with these remedies and this regimen, he pre- served himself and his family. But his self-suf- ficiency in this respect went not unpunished: for he lost both his wife and son. He himself, indeed, by his strong make and good habit of body, lasted long; so that even in old age he frequently indul- ged his inclination for the sex, and at an unseason- able time of life married a young woman. It was on the following pretense: After the death of his wife, he married his son to the daughter of Paulus ^Emilius, the sister of Scipio; and continued a widower, but had a young female slave-that came privately to his bed It could not, however, be long a secret in a small house, with a daughter-in-law in it; and one day as the favorite slave passed by with a haughty and flaunting air, to go to the Censor's chamber, young Cato gave her a severe look, and turned his back upon her, but said not a word. The old ijmn was soon informed of this circumstance, and finding that this kind of commerce displeased his son and his daughter-in-law, he did not expostulate with them, nor take the least notice Next morn- ing he went to the forum, according to custom, with his friends about him; and as he went along, he called aloud to one Salon ius, who had been his secretary, and now was one of his train, and asked him, " Whether he had provided a husband for his daughter?" Upon his answering, " That he had not, nor should, without consulting his best friend;" Cato said, "Why then, I have found out a very fit husband for her, if she can bear with the disparity of age: for in other respects he is unexceptionable, but he is very old." Sal- onius replying, " That he left the disposal of her entirely to him, for she was under his protection, and had no dependence but upon his bounty ;'' Cato said, without further ceremony, " Then I will be your son-in-law." The man at first was * Aulus Gellius mentions a third ambassador, Critolaus the Peripatetic. t The Athenians had plundered the city of Oropns. Upon complaint made by the inhabitants, the affair was re- ferred to the determination of the Sicyonians, and the Athenians, not appearing to justify themselves, were fined five hundred talents. * Rome had indeed a very extensive empire in the An- gustan age; but, at the same time, she lost her ancient constitution and her liberty. Not that the learning of the Romans contributed to that loss, but their irreligion, then luxury, and corruption, occasioned it. t Cato was a worse quack than Dr. Hill. His medical receipts, which may be found in his treatise of conntrj affairs, are either very simple or very dangerous; and fast- ing, which he exploded, is better than them all. Duck, pigeon, and hare, which, if we may believe Plutarch, ha ! gave his sick people as a light diet, are certainly th I strongest and most indigestible kinds of food, and the J 1 making them dream wa a proof. CATO THE CENSOR. 245 astonished at the proposal, as may easily be im- agined; believing Cato past the time of life for marrying, and knowing himself far beneath a alliance with a family that" had been honored with the consulate and a triumph. But when he saw that Cato was in earnest, he embraced the offer with joy, and the marriage contract was signed as soon as they came to the. forum. While they were busied in preparing for the nuptials, young Cato, taking his relations with him, went and asked his father, " What offense he had committed, that he was going to put a mother-in-law upon him?" Cato immediately answered, " Ask not such a question, my son; for, instead of being offended, I have reason to praise your whole conduct : I am only desirous of having more such sons, and leaving more such citizens to my country." But this answer is said to have been given long before, by Pisistra- tus the Athenian tyrant who, when he had sons by a former wife already grown up, married a second, Timonassa of Argos, by whom he is said to have had two sons more, Jophon and Thessalua. By this wife Cato had a son, whom he called Salonius after his mother's father. As for his eldest son Cato, he died in his prajtorship. His father often makes mention of him in his wri- tings as a brave and worthy man. He bore this loss with the moderation of a philosopher, apply- ing himself with his usual activity to affairs of state. For he did not, like Lucius Lucullus afterward, and Metellus Pius, think age an ex- emption from the service of the public, but con- sidered that service as his indispensable duty; nor yet did he act as Scipio Africanus had done, who finding himself attacked and opposed by envy in his course of glory, quitted the administration, and spent the remainder of his days in retirement and inaction. But, as one told Dionysius, that the most honorable death was to die in posses- sion of sovereign power, so Cato esteemed that the most honorable old age, which was spent in serving the commonwealth. The amusements in which he passed his leisure hours, were the writing of books and tilling the ground: and this is the reason of our having so many treatises on various subjects, and histories, of his compo- sing.* In his younger days he applied himself to agri- culture, with a view to profit; for be used to say, he had only two ways of increasing his in- come, labor and parsimony; but as he grew .old, he regarded it only by way of theory and amuse- ment. He wrote a book concerning country af- fuirs,f in which, among other things, he gives rules for making cakes and preserving fruit; for he was desirous to be thought curious and particu- lar in everything. He kept a better table in the country than in the town; for he always invited some of his acquaintance in the neighborhood to sup with him. With these he passed the time in cheerful conversation, making himself agreeable not only to those of his own age, but to the young; for he had a thorough knowledge of the world, and had either seen himself, or heard from others, a va- riety of things that were curious and entertaining. He looked upon the table as one of the best means of forming friendships: and at his, the conversation generally turned upon the praises of great and excellent men among the Romans; as for the bad and the unworthy, no mention was made of them, for he would not allow in his com- pany one word, either good or bad, to be said of such kind of men. The last service he -is said to have done the public was the destruction of Carthage. The younger Scipio indeed gave the finishing stroke to that work, but it was undertaken chiefly by the advice and at the instances of Cato. The occasion of the war was this. The Carthaginians and Massinissa, king of Numidia, being at war with each other, Cato was sent into Africa to inquire into the causes of the quarrel. Massinissa from the first had been a friend to the Romans, and the Carthaginians were admitted into their alli- ance after the great overthrow they received from Scipio the elder, but upon terms which de- prived them of great part of their dominions, and imposed a heavy tribute.* When Cato arrived at Carthage, he found that city not in the ex- hausted and humble condition which the Romans imagined, but full of men fit to bear arms, abound- ing in money, in arms, in warlike stores, and not a little elated in the thought of its being so well provided. He concluded, therefore, that it was now time for the Romans to endeavor to settle the points in dispute between the Numidians and Carthage; and that, if they did not soon make themselves masters of that city, which was their old enemy, and retained strong resentments of the usage she had lately received, and which had not only recovered herself after her losses, but was prodigiously increased in wealth and power, they would soon be exposed to all their former dangers. For this reason he returned in all haste to Rome, where he informed the senate, " That the defeats and other misfortunes which had happened to the Carthaginians, had not so much drained them of their forces, as cured them of their folly; and that, in all probability, instead of a weaker, they had made them a more skillful and warlike ene- my; that their war with the Numidians was only a prelude to future combats with the Romans; and that the late peace was a mere name, for they considered it only as a suspension of arms, which 4hey were willing to avail themselves of, until they had a favorable opportunity to renew the war." It is said, that at the conclusion of his speech he shook the lap of his gown, and purposely drop- ped some Libyan figs; and when he found the senators admired them for their size and beauty, he told them, "That the country where they grew was but three days' sail from Rome." But what is a stronger instance of his enmity to Car- thage, he neve- gave his opinion in the senate upon any other point whatever, without adding these words, " And my opinion is, that Carthage shquld be destroyed." Scipio, surnamed Nasica, made it a point to maintain the contrary, and con- cluded all his speeches thus, " And my opinion is, that Carthage should be left standing." It is very likely that this great man, perceiving that the people were come to such a pitch of inso- lence, as to be led by it into the greatest excesses (so that in the pride of prosperity they could not * Be>ide a hundred and fifty orations, and more, that he left behind him, he wrote a treatise on military discipline, and books of antiquities; in two of these he treats of the foundation of the cities of Italy: the other five contained the Roinnn history, particularly a narrative of the first and econd Punic war. t This is the only work of his that remains entire; of the est we have only fragments. * Scipio Africanus obliged the Carthaginians, at the con- elusion of the second Punic war, to deliver up their fleet to the Romans, yield to Massinissa part of Syphax's domi- nions, and pay the Romans ten thousand talents. Thig peace was made in the third year of the hundred and forty- fourth Olympiad, two hundred years before the Christian era. 246 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. be restrained by the senate, but by their over- grown power were able to draw the government what way they pleased), thought it best that Carthage should remain to keep them in awe, and to moderate their presumption. For he saw that the Carthaginians were not strong enough to conquer the Romans, and yet too respectable an enemy to be despised by them. On the other hand, Cato thought it dangerous, while the peo- ple were thus inebriated and giddy with power to suffer a city, which had always been great, and which was now grown sober and wise through its misfortunes, to lie watching .every advantage against them. It appeared to him, therefore, the wisest course, to have all outward dangers remov- ed from the commonwealth, that it might be at leisure to guard against internal corruption. Thus Cato, they tell us, occasioned the third and last war against the Carthaginians. But as soon as it began he died, having first prophesied of the person that should put an end to it; who was then a young mail, and had only a tribune's command in the army, but was giving extraordi- nary proofs of his conduct and valor. The news of these exploits being brought to Rome, Cato cried out He is the soul of council; The rest are shadows vain. This Scipio soon confirmed by his actions. Cato left one son by his second wife, who, as we have already observed, was surnamed Salo- nius, and a grandson by the son of his first wife, who died before him. Salonius died in his prse- torship, leaving a son named Marcus, who came to be consul, and was grandfather* to Cato the Philosopher, the best and most illustrious man of his time. ARISTIDES AND CATO COMPARED. HAVING thus given a detail of the most memo- rable actions of these great men, if we compare the whole life of the one with that of the other, it will not be easy to discern the difference between them, the eye being attracted by so many strik- ing resemblances. But if we examine the several parts of their lives distinctly, as we do a poem or a picture, we shall find, in the first place, this common to them both, that they rose to high sta- tions and great honor, in their respective com- monwealths, not by the help of family connec- tions, but merely by their own virtue and abili- ties. It is true, that when Aristides raised him- self, Athens was not in her grandeur, and the demagogues and chief magistrates he had to deal with were men of moderate and nearly equal fortunes. For estates of the highest class were then only five hundred medimni: of those of the second order, who were knights, three hundred; and of those of the third order, who were called, Zevgitce, two hundred. But Cato, from a little village and a country life, launched into the Ro- man government, as into a boundless ocean, at a time when it was not conducted by the Curii, the Fabricii, and Hostilii, nor received for its mag- istrates and orators men of narrow circumstan- ces who worked with their own hands, from the plow and the spade, but was accustomed to regard greatness of family, opulence, distributions among the peo-ple, and servility in courting their favor; for the Romans, elated with their power and im- portance, loved to humble those who stood for the great offices of state. And it was not the same thing to be rivaled by a Themistocles, who was neither distinguished by birth nor fortune (for he is said not to have been worth more than three, or, at the most, five talents, when he first applied himself to public affairs), as to have to contest with a Scipio Africanus, a Servius Galba, or a Quintius Flaminius, without any other assis- tance or support but a tongue accustomed to speak with freedom in the cause of justice. Beside, Aristides was only one among ten, that commanded at Marathon and Platcea; whereas Cato was chosen one of the two consuls, from a number of competitors, and one of the two cen- sors, though opposed by seven candidates, who' were some of the greatest and most illustrious men in Rome. It should be observed too, that Aristides was never principal in any action; for Miltiades had the chief honor of the victory at Marathon; Themistocles of that at Salamis; and the palm of the important day at Plateea, as Herodotus tells us, was adjudged to Pausanias. Nay, even the second place was disputed with Aristides by So- phanes, Aminias, Callimachus, and Cynragirus, who greatly distinguished themselves on that oc- casion. On the other hand, Cato not only stood first in courage and conduct, during his own consulate, and in the war with Spain, but when he acted at Thermopylae only as a tribune, under the au- spices of another, he gained the glory of the vic- tory; for he it was that unlocked the pass for the Romans to rush upon Antiochus; and that brought the war upon the back of the king, who minded only what was before him. That victorv, which was manifestly the work of Cato, drove Asia out of Greece, and opened the passage for Scipio to that continent afterward. Both of them were equally victorious in war, but Aristides miscarried in the administration, being banished and oppressed by the faction of Themistocles; while Cato, though he had for antagonists almost all the greatest and most pow- erful men in Rome, who kept contending with him even in his old age, like a skillful wrestler, always held his footing. Often impeached be- fore the people, and often the manager of an im- peachment, he generally succeeded in his prose- cution of others, and was never condemned him- self; secure in that bulwark of life, the defen- sive and offensive armor of eloquence; and to this, much more justly than to fortune, or his guardian genius, we may ascribe his maintaining his dignity unblemished to the last. For Anti- pater bestowed the same encomium upon Aris- totle the philosopher, in what he wrote concern- ing him after his death, that, among his other qualities, he had the very extraordinary one, of persuading people to whatever he pleased. * This is a mistake in Plutarch; for Salonius was the grandfather, and Marcus the father of Cato of Utica. ARISTIDES AND CATO COMPARED. 247 That the art of governing cities and common- wealths is the chief excellence of rnau, admits act of a doubt; and it is generally agreed, that the art of governing a family is no small ingredient iu that excellence. For a city, which is only a collection of families, cannot be prosperous in the whole, unless the families that compose it be flourishing and prosperous. And Lycurgus, when he banished gold and silver out of Sparta, and gave the citizens instead of it, money made of iron, that had been spoiled by the fire, did not design to excuse them from at- tending to economy, but only to prevent luxury, which is a tumor and inflammation caused by riches; that every one might have the greater plenty of the necessaries and conveniences of life. By this establishment of his, it appears, that he saw further than any other legislator; since he was sensible that every society has more to apprehend from its needy members, than from the rich. For this reason, Cato was no less at- tentive to the management of his domestic con- cerns than to that of public affairs; and he not only increased his own estate, but became a guide to others in economy and agriculture, concerning which he collected many useful rules. But Aristides, by his indigence, brought a dis- grace upon justice itself, as if it were the ruin and impoverishment of families, and a quality that, is profitable to any one rather than the owner. Hesi- od, however, has suid a good deal to exhort us both to justice and economy, and inveighsagainst idle- ness as the source of injustice. The same is well represented by Homer.* The culture of the field, which fills the stores With hapby harvests; and domestic cares, Which rear the smiling progeny, no charms Could boast for me; 'twas mine, to sail The ^alliMit ship, to sound the trump of war, To jwint the polish'd spear, and hurl the quivering lance. By which the poet intimates, that those who neglect their own affairs, generally support themselves by violence and injustice. For what the physicians say of oil, that used outwardly it is beneficial, but pernicious when taken inward- ly, is not applicable to the just man; nor is it true, that he is useful to others, and unprofitable to himself and his family. The politics of Aris- tides seem, therefore, to have been defective in this respect, if it is true (as most writers assert) that he left not enough either for the portions of his daughters, or for the expenses of his funeral. Thus Gate's family produced praetors and con- suls to the fourth generation; for his grandsons and their children bore the highest offices; where- as, though Aristides was one of the greatest men in Greece, yet the most distressing poverty prevailing among his descendants, some of them were forced to get their bread by showing tricks of sleight of hand, or telling fortunes, and others, to receive public alms, and not one of them en- tertained a sentiment worthy of their illustrious ancestor. It is true, this point is liable to some dispute; for poverty is not dishonorable in itself, but only when it it> the effect of idleness, intemperance, prodigality, and folly. And when, on the contra- ry, it is associated with all the virtues, in the so- ber, the industrious, the just, and valiant states- man, it speaks a great and elevated mind. For an attention to little things renders it impossible to do anything that is great; nor can he provide for the wants of others, whose own are numerous and craving. The great and necessary provision Odvss. 1. IT. for a statesman is, not riches, but a contented mind, which requiring no superfluities for itself, leaves a man at full liberty to serve the common- wealth. God is absolutely exempt from wants; and the virtuous man, in proportion as he redu- ces his wants, approaches nearer to the Divine perfection. For as a body well built for nealth needs nothing exquisite, either in food or cloth- ing, so a rational way of living, and a well gov- erned family, demand a very moderate sup- port. Our possessions, indeed, should be propor- tioned to the use we make of them; he that amasses a great deal, and uses but little, is far from be- ing satisfied and happy in his abundance; for if, while he is solicitous to increase it, he has no de- sire of those things which wealth can procure, he is foolish; if he does desire them, and yet out of meanness of spirit, will not allow himself in their enjoyment, he is miserable. I would fain ask Cato himself this question, " If riches are to be enjoyed, why, when possess- ed of a great deal, did he plume himself upon be- ing satisfied with a little?" If it be a commend- able thing, as indeed it is, to be contented with coarse bread, and such wine as our servants and laboring pjeople drink, and not to covet purple and elegantly plastered houses; then Aristides, Epam- inondas, Manius Curius, and Caius Fabricius were perfectly right, in neglecting to acquire what they did not think proper to use. For it was by no means necessary for a man who, like Cato, could make a delicious meal on turnips, and loved to boil them himself, while his wife baked the bread, to talk so much about a farthing, and to write by what means a man might soonest grow rich. Indeed, simplicity and frugality are then only great things, when they free the mind from the desire of superfluities and the anxieties of care. Hence it was that Aristides, in the trial of Callias, said, It was jit for none to be ashamed of poverty, but those that were poor against their wills; and that they who, like him, were poor out of choice, miyht glory in it. For it is ridiculous to sup- pose that the poverty of Aristides was to be im- puted to sloth, since he might, without being guilty of the least baseness, have raised himself to opulence, by the spoil of one barbarian, or the plunder of one tent. But enough of this. As to military achievements, those of Cato ad- ded but little to the Roman empire, which was al- ready very great, whereas the battles of Marathon, Salamis and Platasa, the most glorious and impor- tant actions of the Greeks, are numbered among those of Aristides. And surely Antiochus is not worthy to be mentioned with Xerxes, nor the demolishing of the walls of the Spanish towns, with the destruction of so many thousands of barbarians both by sea and land. On these great occasions Aristides was inferior to none in real service, but he left the glory and the laurels, as he did the wealth, to others who had more need of them, because he was above them. I do not blame Cato for perpetually boasting and giving himself the preference to others, though in one of his pieces he says, It is absurd for a man either to commend or depreciate himself: but I think the man who is often praising himself, not so com- plete in virtue as the modest man, who does not even want others to praise him. For modesty is a very proper ingredient in the mild and engag- ing manner necessary for a statesman; on th other hand, he who demands any extraordinary respect is difficult to please, and liable to envy. Cato was very subject to this fault, and Aristides entirely free from it. For Aristides, by co-operat- ing with his enemy Themistocles iu his greatest 248 PLUTARCH S LIVES. actions and being as it were a guard to him while he had the command, restored the affairs of Athens, whereas Cato, by counteracting Scipio, had well nigh blasted and ruined that expedition of his against Carthage, which brought down Hannibal who, until then was invincible. And he continued to raise suspicions against him, and to persecute him with calumnies, until at last he drove him out of Rome, and got his brother stigmatized with the shameful crime of embezzling the public money. As for temperance, which Cato always ex- tolled as the greatest of virtues, Arislides preserved it in its utmost purity and perfection; while Cato by marrying so much beneath himself, and at an unseasonable time of life, stood justly impeached iu that respect. For it was by no means decent at his great age, to bring home to his son and daughter-in-law, a young wife, the daughter of his secretary, a man who received wages of the public. Whether he did it merely to gratify his appetite, or to revenge the affront which his sou put upon his favorite slave, both the cause and the thing were dishonorable. And the reason which he gave to his son was ironical and groundless. For if he was desirous of having more children like him, lie should have looked out before for some woman of family, and not have put off the thoughts of marrying again, until his commerce with so mean a creature was discovered; and when it was discovered, he ought to have chosen for his father-in-law, not the man who would most read- ily accept his proposals, but one whose alliance would 'iave done him the most honor. P H 1 1 P <E M E N . AT Mantinea there was a man of great quality and power, named Cassander,* who, being obliged by a reverse of fortune, to quit his own country, went and settled at Megalopolis. He was induced to fix there, chiefly by the friendship which sub- sisted between him and Crausis,f the father of Philopcemen, who was in all respects an extraor- dinary man. While his friend lived, he had all that he could wish, and being desirous, after his death, to make some return for his hospitality, he educated his orphan son, in the same manner as Homer says Achilles was educated by Phoenix, and formed him from his infancy to generous sen- timents and royal virtues. But when he was past the years of childhood, Ecdemus and Deniophanes^ had the principal care of him. They were both Megalopolitans, who having learned the academic philosophy of Arce- silaus, applied it, above all the men of their time, to action and affairs of state. They delivered their country from tyianny, by providing persons pri- vately to take off Aristodemus: they were assisting to Aratus in driving out Neocles, the tyrant of Sicyon ; and, at the request of the people of Cyrene, whose government was in great disorder, they sailed thither, settled it on the foundation of good laws, and thoroughly regulated the commonwealth. But among all their great actions, they valued themselves most on the education of Philopcemen, as having rendered him by the principles of philos- ophy, a common benefit to Greece. And indeed, as he came the last of so many excellent generals, Greece loved him extremely, as the child of her old age, and, as his reputation increased, enlarged his power. For which reason, a certain Roman calls him the last of the Greeks, meaning that Greece had not produced one great man, or one that was worthy of her, after him. His visage was not very homely, || as some im- * Pausanius calls him Clcander; and some manuscripts of Plutarch agree with him. So it is also in the translation of Guarini. t Craugis in Pansanias; in the inscription of a statue of Philopojmen at Tegeie; and in an ancient collection of epigrams. % In Pausanias, their names are Ecdelus and Megalo- phanes. Arcesilaus was founder of the middle Acadomy, and made some alteration in the doctrine which had obtained. |l Pausanius assures us that his visage was homely, but Bt the same time declares, that, in point of size and strength, no man iu Peloponnesus exceeded him. agined it to have been; for we see his statue still remaining at Delphi. As for the mistake of his hostess at Megara, it is said to be owing to his easiness of behavior, and the simplicity of his garb. She having word brought that the general of the Achreans was coming to her house, was in great care and hurry to provide his supper, her hus,* band happening to be out of the way. In tht> mean time Phiiopoemen came, and as his habit was ordinary, she took him for one of his own servants, or for a harbinger, and desired him to assist her iu the business of the kitchen. He presently threw off his cloak, and began to cleave some wood; when the master of the house returning, and see- ing him so employed said, "What is the meaning of this, Philopoemen?" He replied in broad Doric, "I am paying the fine of my deformity." Titus Flaminius, rallying him one day upon his make, said, "What fine hands and legs you havt! but then you have no belly:" and he was indeed very slender in the waist. But this raillery might rather be referred to the condition of his lortune: for he had good soldiers, both horse and foot, but very often wanted money to pay them. These stories are subjects of disputations in the schools. As to his manners, we find that his pursuits of honor were too much attended with roughness and passion. Epaminondas was the person whom he proposed for his pattern; and he succeeded in imitating his activity, shrewdness, and contempt of riches; but his choleric, contentious humor pre- vented his attaining to the mildness, the gravity, and candor of that great man in political disputes; so that he seemed rather fit for war than for the civil administration. Indeed, from a child he was fond of everything in the military way, and readily entered into the exercises which tended to that purpose, those of riding for instance, an.i handling of arms. As he seemed well formed fo- wrestling too, his friends and governors advise<: him to improve himself in that art; which gave him occasion to ask, whether that might be con- sistent with his proficiency as a soldier? They told him the truth; that the habit of body and man- ner of life, the diet and exercise, of a soldier and a wrestler, were entirely different: that the wrestler must have much sleep and full meals, stated times of exercise and rest, every little departure from his rule* being very prejudicial to him: whereas the soldier should be prepared for the most irregular change* PHILOPCEMEN. 249 fff living, and should chiefly endeavor to bring himself to bear the want of food and sleep, with- out difficulty. Philopcemen hearing this, not only avoided and derided the exercise of wrestling him- self, hut afterward when he came to be general, to the utmost of his power exploded the whole art, by every mark of disgrace and expression of con- tempt: satish'ed that it rendered persons, who were the most lit for war, quite useless, and unable to fight on necessary occasions. When his governors and preceptors had quitted their charge, he engaged in those private incur- sions into Laconia, which the city of Megalopolis made for the sake of booty; and in these he was sure to be the first to march out, and the last to return. His leisure he spent either in the chase, which increased both his strength and activity, or in the tillage of the field. For he had a handsome estate twenty furlongs from the city, to which he went every day after dinner, or after supper; and, at night, he threw himself upon an ordinary mattress and slept as one of (he laborers. Early in the morning he rose and went to work along with his vine-dressers or plowmen; after which he re- turned to the town, and employed his time about the public affairs with his friends and with the magistrates. What he gained in the wars he laid out upon horses or arms, or in the redeeming of captives, but he endeavored to improve his own estate the justest way in the world, by agriculture I mean.* Nor did he apply himself to it in a cursory manner, but in full conviction that the surest way not to touch what belongs to others is to take care of one's own. He spent some time in hearing the discourses and studying the writings of philosophers; but se- lected such as he thought might assist his progress in virtue. Among the poetical images in Homer, he attended to those which seemed to excite and encourage valor: and as to other authors, he was most conversant in the Tactics of Evangelus,+ and in the History of Alexander; being persuaded that learning ought to conduce to action, and not be considered as mere pastime and a useless fund for talk. In the study of Tactics he neglected those plans and diagrams that are drawn upon paper, and exemplified the rules in the field; considering with himself as he traveled, and pointing out to those about him, the difficulties of steep or broken ground; and how the ranks of an arrny must be extended or closed, according to the differences made by rivers, ditches, and defiles. He seems, indeed, to have set rather too great a value on military knowledge; embracing war as the most extensive exercise of virtue, and despis- ing those that were not versed in it, as persons entirely useless. He was now thirty years old, when Cleornenes,t king of the Lacedaemonians, surprised Megalo- polis in the night, and having forced the guards, entered and seized the market-place. Pniiopoe- * Columella snys, njrrienlture is next akin to philosophy. it does, indeed, ailord a. person who is capable of specula- tion, an opportunity of meditating on nature ; and such meditations enlarge the mind. t This author is" mentioned by Arrian, who also wrote a discourse on Tactics. He observes that the treatise of Evangelus, as well as those of several other writers on that subject, were become of little use in his time, because they had omitted sevenil things as sufficiently known in their days, which, however, then wanted explication. This may serve as a caution to future writers, on this and such like abject . J Cleomenes made himself master of Megalopolis in the econd year of the hundred and thirty-ninth Olympiad, which was the two hundred and twenty-first before the Christian era. j men ran to succor the inhabitants, but was not ' able to drive out the enemy, though he fought I with the most determined and desperate valor. He j prevailed, however, so far as to give the people 1 opportunity to steal out of the town, by rnaintain- | ing the combat with the pursuers, and drawing Cieomeoes upon himself, so that he retired the ! last with difficulty, and after prodigious efforts: being wounded, and having his hoi^' killed under him. When they had gained Messene, Cleo- menes made them an offer of their city with their j lands and goods. Philopoernen perceiving they ! were glad to accept the proposal, and in haste to | return, strongly opposed it, representing to them I in a set speech, that Cleomeiifs did not want to restore them their city, but to be rnaet'-r of the j citizens, in order that he might be more secure of I keeping the place: that he could not sit still long ! to watch empty houses and walls, for the very solitude would force him away. By this argu- ' ment he turned the Megalopolitans from their purpose, but at the same time furnished Cleo- menes with a pretense to plunder the town and demolish the greatest part of it, and to march off loaded with booty. Soon after, An tigoa CM came down to assist the Acha3ans against Cleomenes; and finding that he had possessed himself of the hights of Sellasia, and blocked up the passages, Antigonus drew up his army near him, witb a resolution to force him from his post. Philopoemen, with his citizens, was placed among the cavalry, supported by the Illyrian foot, a numerous and gallant body of men, who closed that extremity. They had orders to wait quietly, until, from the other wing, where the king fought in person, they should see j a red robe lifted up upon the point of a spear. I The Achffians kept their ground, as they were directed: but the Illyrian officers with their corps attempted to break in upon the Lacedaemonians. Euclidas, the brother of Cleomenes, seeing this opening made in the enemy's arrny, immediately j ordered a party of his light-armed infantry to ! wheel about and attack the rear of the Illyrians, I thus separated from the horse. This being put in execution, and the Illyrians harassed and broken, Philopojmen perceived that it would be no difficult matter to drive off that light-armed party, and | that the occasion called for it. First he mention- j ed the thing to the king's officers, but they re- J jected the hint, and considered him as no better than a madman, his reputation being not yet res- pectable enough to justify such a movement. He, therefore, with the Megalopolitans, falling upon that light-armed corps himself, at the first encoun- ter put them in confusion, and soon after routed them with great slaughter. Desirous yet further | to encourage Antigonus's troops, and quickly to penetrate into the enemy's army, which was now in some disorder, he quitted his horse, and ad- I vancing on foot, in his horseman's coat of mail I and other heavy accoutrements, upon rough un- | even ground, that was full of springs and bogs, 1 he was making his way with extreme difficulty, when he had both his thighs struck through with j a javelin, so that the point came through on the other side, and the wound was great, though not" mortal. At first he stood still as if he had been shackled, not knowing what method to take. For the thong in the middle of the javelin render- ed it difficult to be drawn out; nor would any about him venture to do it. At the same time : the fight being at the hottest, and likely to be soon over, honor and indignation pushed him on 1 to take his share in it; and therefore, by moving I his legs this way and that, he broke the staff, and 250 PLUTARCH'S LIVES rate civil government worthy of Greece. And a it happens in running waters, that when a few small bodies stop, others stick to them, and one part strengthening another, the whole hecomes one firm and solid mass, so it was with Greece. At a time when she was weak and easily broken, dispersed as she was in a variety of cities, which stood each upon its own bottom, the Achseans first united themselves, and then drawing some of the neighboring cities to them by assisting them to expel their tyrants, while others voluntarily joined them for the sake of that unanimity which they beheld in so well-constituted a government; they conceived the great design of forming Pe- loponnesus into one community. It is true, that while Aratus lived, they attended the motions of the Macedonians, and made their court first to Ptolemy, and after to Antigonus and Philip, who all had a great share in the affairs of Greece. But when Philopcemen had taken upon him the ad- ministration, the Acheeans, finding themselves respectable enough to oppose their strongest ad- versaries, ceased to call in foreign protectors. As for Aratus, not being so fit for conflicts in the field, he managed most of his affairs by address, by moderation, and by the friendships he had formed with foreign princes, as we have related in his life. But Philopoemen, being a great war- rior, vigorous and bold, and successful withal in the first battles that he fought, raised the ambition of the Achffians together with their power; fot under him they were used to conquer. In the first place, he corrected the errors of the Achaeans in drawing up their forces and in the make of their arms. For hitherto they had made use of bucklers which were easy to manage on account of their small ness, but too narrow to cover the body, and lances that were much shorter than the Macedonian pikes; for which reason they answerec the end in fighting at a distance, bui. were of little use in close battle. As for the order of battle, they had not been accustomed to draw up in a spiral form,* but in the square battalion, which having neither a front of pikes, nor shields, fit to lock together, like that of the Macedonians, was easily penetrated and broken. Philopoemen altered both ; persuading them instead of the buckler and lance, to take the shield and pike; to arm their heads, bodies, thighs, and legs; and, in- stead of a light and desultory manner of fighting, to adopt a close and firm one. After he had brought the youth to wear complete armor, and on that account to consider themselves as in- vincible, his next step was to reform them with respect to luxury and love of expense. He could not, indeed, entirely cure them of the distemper with which they had long been infected, the vanity of appearance, for they had vied with each other in fine clothes, in purple carpets, and in the rich service of their tables. But he began with divert- ing their love of show from superfluous things to those that were useful and honorable, and soon prevailed with them to retrench their daily ex- pense upon their persons, and to give in to a magnificence in their arms and the whole equipage of war. The shops therefore were seen strewed with plate broken in pieces, while breast-plates were gilt with the gold, and shields, and bridles studded with the silver. On the parade the young men were managing horses, or exercising their arms. The women were seen adorning helmets and crests with various colors, or embroidering military vests both for the cavalry and infantry. This battle was fought the fourth year of the hundred * The Macedonian phalanx occasionally altered their and forty-second Olympiad, when Philoiwemen was in his form from the square to the spiral or orbicular, and some- forty.fourth year. i times to that of the cuncus or wedge. then ordered the pieces to be pulled out. Thus i set free, he ran, sword in hand, through the first | ranks, to charge the enemy; at the same time animating the troops, and firing them with emu- lation. Antigonus having gained the victory, to try his Macedonian officers, demanded of them, " Why they had brought on the cavalry before he gave them the sigi*al? " By way of apology, they said, "They were obliged, against their will, to come to action, because a young man of Megalopolis had began the attack too soon." " That young man," replied Antigonus, smiling, " has perform- ed the office of an experienced general." This action, as we may easily imagine, lifted Philopoemen into great reputation, so that Anti- gonus was very desirous of having his service in the wars, and offered him a considerable com- mand with great appointments; but he declined it, because he knew he would not bear to be under the direction of another. Not choosing however to lie idle, and hearing there was a war in Crete, he sailed thither to exercise and improve his military talents. When he had served there a good while, along with a set of brave men, who were not only versed in all the stratagems of war, but temperate beside, and strict in their manner of living, he returned with so much renown to the Acha3ans, that they immediately appointed him general of horse. He found that the cavalry made use of small and mean horses, which they picked up as they could when they were called to a campaign; that many of them shunned the wars, and sent others in their stead; and that shameful ignorance of service, with its consequence, timi- dity, prevailed among them all. The former generals had connived at this, because, it being a degree of honor among the Achreans to serve o'n horseback, the cavalry had great power in the commonwealth and considerable influence in the distribution of rewards and punishments. But Philopoamen would not yield to such considera- tions, or grant them the least indulgence. In- stead of that, he applied to the several towns, and to each of the young men in particular, rousing them to a sense of honor, punishing where neces- sity required, and practicing them in exercise, re- views, and mock-battles, in placestof the greatest resort. By these means in a little time, he brought them to surprising strength and spirit; and, what is of most consequence, in discipline rendered them so light and quick, that all their evolutions and movements, whether performed separately or together, were executed with so much readiness and address, that their motion was like that of one body actuated by an internal voluntary prin- ciple. In the great battle which they fought with the ^Etolians and Eleans near the river Larissus,* Demophantus, general of the Elean horse, ad- vanced before the lines, at full speed against Phi- lopoemen. Philopaunen, preventing his blow, with a push with his spear brought him dead to the ground. The enemy seeing Demophantui fall, immediately fled. And now Philopoemen was universally celebrated as not inferior to the young in personal valor, nor to the old in prudence, and as equally well qualified both to fight and to com- mand. Aratus was, indeed, the first who raised the commonwealth of the Achreans to dignity and power. For. whereas, before they were in a low condition, dispersed in unconnected cities, he united them in one body, and gave them a mode- PHILOPCEMEN. 251 The very sight of these things inflamed their courage, and called forth their vigor, made them venturous, and ready to face any danger. For much expense in other things that attract our yes, tempts to luxury, and too often produces effeminacy; the feasting of the senses relaxing the vigor of the mind; but in this instance it strengthens and improves it. Thus Homer re- presents Achilles, at the sight of his new armor, exulthig with joy,* and hurnir.g with impatience to usa it. When Philopoemen had persuaded the youth thus to arm and adorn themselves, he mustert'd and trained them continually, and they entered with pride and pleasure into his exercise. For th y were greatly delighted with the new form of the battalion, which was so cemented that it seernt 1 impossible to break it. And their arms became 2asy and light in the wearing, because they were charmed with their richness and beauty, and they longed for nothing more than to use them against the enemy, and to try them in a real encounter. At that time the Achreans were at war with Machanidas, the tyrant of Lacedaemon, who, with a powerful army, was watching his opportunity to subdue all Peloponnesus. As soon as news was brought that he was fallen upon the Manti- neans, Philopcemen took the field, and inarched against him. They drew up their armies near Mantinea, each having a good number of merce- naries in pay, beside the whole force of their re- spective cities. The engagement being begun, Machanidus with his foreign troops attacked and put to flight the spearmen and the Tarentines, who were placed in the Achrean front; but after- ward, instead of fulling upon that part of the army who stood their ground, and breaking them, he went upon the pursuit of the fugitives,! and when he should have endeavored to rout the main body ? the Acha3ans, left his own uncovered. Philo- pO2men, after so indifferent a beginning, made light of the misfortune, and represented it as no great matter, though the day seemed to be lost. But when he saw what an error the enemy com- mitted, in quitting their foot, and going upon the pursuit, by which they left him a good opening, he did not try to stop them in their career after the fugitives, but suffered them to pass by. When the pursuers were got at a great distance, he rushed upon the Lacedaemonian infantry, now left unsupported by their right wing. Stretching, therefore, to the left, he took them in flank, desti- tute as they were of a general, and far from expecting to come to blows; for they thought Machanidas absolutely sure of victory, when they saw him upon the pursuit. After he had routed this infantry with great slaughter (for it is said that four thousand Lace- daemonians were left dead upon the spot), he marched against Machanidas, who was now re- turning wilii his mercenaries from the pursuit There was a broad and deep ditch between them where both strove a while, the one to get over anc fly, the other to hinder him. Their appearanc was not like that of a combat between two gene- rals, but between two wild beasts (or rather be- tween a hunter and a wild beast), whom necessity * She drops the radiant burden on the ground, Clanjr the strong arms, and rin^ the shores around, Back shrink the Myrmidons with dread surprise, And from the broad effulgence turn their eyes. Unmoved, the hero kindles at the show, And feels wilh rage divine his bosom glow; From his ferce eyeballs living flames expire, And Hash incessant like a stream of fire. Pope, II. b. xix. T PoJybiui, 1. xi reduces to fight. Philopoemen was the great muter. The tyrant's horse being strong arid spirited, and violently spurred on both sides, ven - tured to leap into the ditch; and was raising hia 'ore feet in order to gain the opposite bank, when Simmias and Polyaenus, who always fought by ;he side of Philopocmen, both rode up and leveled their spears against Machanidas. But Philopoe- men prevented them; and perceiving that tho lorse, with his head high reared, covered the ty- rant's body, he tun;ed his own a little, and push- ng his spear at him with all his force, tumbled lim into the ditch. The Achaeans, in admiration of this exploit and of his conduct in the whole action, set up his statue in brass at Delphi, in the attitude in which he killed the tyrant. It is reported, that at the Nernean games, a little ifter he had gained the battle of Mantinea, Philo- poeinen, then chosen general a second time, and at eisure on account of that great festival, first caused this phalanx, in the best order and attire, to pass in review before the Greeks, and to make all the movements which the art of war teaches, with the utmost vigor and agility. Alter this he entered the theater, while the musicians were con- tending for the prize. He was attended by the youth in their military cloaks and scarlet vesta. These young men were all well made, of the same age and stature, and though they showed great respect for their general, yet they seemed not a little elated themselves with the many glorious battles they had fought. In the moment that they entered, Pylacies the musician happened to be sing-ing to his lyre the Persa of Timotheus,* and was pronouncing this verse which begins, The palm of liberty for Greece I won, when the people, struck with the grandeur of the poetry, sung by a voice equally excellent, from every part of the theater turned their eyes upon Philopcemen, and welcomed him with the loudest plaudits. They caught in idea the ancient dignity of Greece, and in their present confidence aspired to the lofty spirit of former times. As young horses require their accustomed riders, and are wild and unruly when mounted by strangers, so it was with the Achreans. When their forces were under any other commander, on every great emergency, they grew discontented and looked about for Pliilopreinen; and if he did but make his appearance, they were soon satisfied again and fitted for action by the confidence which they placed in him; well knowing that he was the only general whom their enemies durst not look in the face, and that they were ready to tremble at his very name. Philip, king of Macedon, thinking he could easily bring the Achueans under him again, if Phi- lopoemen was out of the way, privately sent some persons to Argos to assassinate him. But this treachery was timely discovered, and brought upon Philip the hatred and contempt of all the Greeks. The Boeotians were besieging Megara, and hoped to be soon masters of the place, when a report., though not a true one, being spread among them, that Philopoemen was approaching to the relief of the besieged, they left their scaling- ladders already planted against the walls, and took to flight. Nabis, who was tyrant of Lacedaemoa after Machanidas, had taken Messene by surprise. And Philopoemen, who was out of command, en- deavored to persuade Lysippus, then general of the Acha3ans, to succor the Messenians; but not * Timotheus was a Dithyrambic poet, wrfo nourished about the ninety-fifth Olympiad, three hundred and nineij- eight years before the Christian era. 252 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. prevailing with him, because lie said, the enemy was within, and the place irrecoverably lost, he went himself; taking with him his own citizens, who waited neither for form of law nor commis- sion, but followed him upon this natural principle, that he who excels should always command. When he was got pretty near, Nabis was informed of it; and not daring to wait, though his army lay quartered in the town, stole out at another gate with his troops, and marched off precipi- tately, thinking himself happy if he could escape. He did indeed escape, but Messene was rescued. Thus far everything is great in the character of Philopcemen. But as for his going a second time into Crete, at the request of the Gortynians, who were engaged in war, and wanted him for general, it has been blamed, either as an act of cowardice, in deserting his own country when she was distressed by Nabis, or as an unseasonable ambition to show himself to strangers. And it is true, the Megalopolitans were then so hard pressed, that they were obliged to shut themselves up within their walls, and to sow corn in their very streets; the enemy having laid waste their land, and encamped almost at their gates. Philo- poemen, therefore, by entering into the service of the Cretans at such a time, and taking a command beyond sea, furnished his enemies with a pretense to accuse him of basely flying from the war at home. Yet it is said, that as the Achceans had chosen other generals, Philopcemen, being unemployed, bestowed his leisure upon the Gortynians, and took a command among them at their request. For he had an extreme aversion to idleness, and wa desirous, above all things, to keep his talents, as a soldier and general, in constant practice. This was clear from what he said of Ptolemy. Some were commending that prince for daily studying the art of war, and improving his strength by martial exercise; "Who," said he, "can praise a prince of his age, that is always preparing, and never performs?" The Megalopolitans, highly incensed at his ab- sence, and looking upon it as a desertion, were inclined to pass an outlawry against him. But the Achaeans prevented them by sending their gene- ral* Arista3netus to Megalopolis, who, though he differed with Philopoernen about matters of govern- ment, would not suffer him to be declared an out- law. Philopoemen, finding himself neglected by his citizens, drew off from them several of the neighboring boroughs, and instructed them to allege that they were not comprised in their taxa- tions, nor originally of their dependencies. But assisting them to maintain this pretext, he lessened the authority of Megalopolis in the general as- sembly of the Achasans. But these things hap- pened some time after. While he commanded the Gortynians in Crete, he did not, like a Peloponnesian or Arcadian, make war in an open generous manner, but adopt- ing the Cretan customs, and using their artifices and sleights, their stratagems and ambushes, against themselves, he soon showed that their devices were like the short-sighted schemes of children, when compared with the long reach of an experienced general. Having greatly distinguished himself by these means, and performed many exploits in that coun- try, he returned to Peloponnesus with honor. Here he found Philip beaten by T. Q. Flaminius, and Nabis engaged in war both with the Romans and Achseans. lie was immediately chosen gene- ?o!ybius and Livy call him Aristznas. ral of the Achaeans; but venturing to act at sea, le fell under the same misfortune with Epami- nondas ; he saw the great ideas that had been formed of his courage and conduct vanish in con- sequence of his ill success in a naval engagement Some say, indeed, that Epaminondas was unwil- ing that his countrymen should have any share of the advantages of the sea, lest of good soldiers (as Plato expresses it) they should become licen- tious and dissolute sailors; and therefore chose to return from Asia and the isles, without effecting anything. But Philopcemen being persuaded that lis skill in the land service would insure his suc- cess at sea. found, to his cost, how much experi- ence contributes to victory, and how lunch prac- tice adds in all things to our powers. For he wa? not only worsted in the sea-fight for want of ikill; but having fitted up an old ship which had been a famous vessel forty years before, and nanned it with his townsmen, it proved so leaky that they were in danger of being lost. Finding that, after this, the enemy despised him as a man who disclaimed all pretensions at sea, and that they had insolently laid siege to Gythium, he set sail again; and as they did not expect him, but were dispersed without any precaution, by reason of their late victory, he landed in the night, burned their camp, and killed a great number of them. A few days after, as he was marching through a difficult pass, Nabis came suddenly upon him. The Achseans were in great terror, thinking it impossible to escape out of so dangerous a passage, which the enemy had already seized. But Philo- poemen, making a little halt, and seeing at once, the nature of the ground, showed that skill in drawing up an army is the capital point in the art of war. For altering a little the disposition of his forces, and adapting it to the present occasion, without any bustle he easily disengaged them from the difficulty; and then falling upon the enemy, put them entirely to the rout. When he saw that they fled not to the town, but dispersed themselves about the country; as the ground was woody and uneven, and on account of the brooks and ditches impracticable for the horse, he did not go upon the pursuit, but encamped before the evening. Concluding, however, that the fugi- tives would return as soon as it grew dark, and draw up in a straggling manner to the city, he placed in ambush, by the brooks and hills that surrounded it, many parties of the Achaeans with their swords in their hands. By this means the greatest part of the troops of JN'abis were cutoff for not returning in a body, but as the chance of flight had dispersed them, they fell into their ene- mies' hands, and were caught like so many birds, ere they could enter the town. Philopoemen being received on this account with great honor and applause in all the theaters of Greece, it gave some umbrage to Flaminius, 5 man naturally ambitious. For, as a Roman con- sul he thought himself entitled to much greater marks of distinction among the Achceans than a man of Arcadia, and that, as a public benefactor, he was infinitely above him : having by one proclamation set free all that part of Greece which had been enslaved by Philip and the Mace- donians. After this, Flaminius made peace with Nabis; and Nabis was assassinated by the JElo- lians. Hereupon Sparta being in great confusion, Philopoemen seizing the opportunity, came upon it with his army, and, partly by force and partly by persuasion, brought that city to join in the Achaean league. The gaining over a city of such dignity and power made him perfectly adored PHILOPCEMEM. 253 among the Achaaans. And, indeed, Sparta was an acquisition of vast importance to Achaia, of which siie is now become a member. It was also a grateful service to the principal Lacedemonians, who hoped now to have him for the guardian of their liberty. For which reason, having sold the house ami goods of Nabis, by a public decree, they^ave the money, which amounted to a hun- dred and twenty talents, to Philopoernen, and de- termined to send it by persons deputed from their body. On this occasion it appeared how clear his in- tegrity was, that he not only seemed, but was a virtuous man. For not one of the Spartans chose to speak to a person of his character about a present; but afraid of the office, they all excus- ed themselves, and put it upon Timolaiis, to whom he was bound by the rites of hospitality. Timolaus went to Megalopolis, and was enter- tained at Philopoemen's house ; but when he ob- served the gravity of his discourse, the simplicity of his diet, and his integrity of manners, quite impregnable to the attacks and deceits of money, he said not a word about the present, but having assigned another cause for his coming, returned home. He was sent a second time, but could not mention the money. In a third visit he brought it out with much difficulty, and declared the be- nevolence of Sparta to him. Philopoernen heard with pleasure what he had to say, but immedi- ately went himself to the people of Lacedsemon, and advised them not to try to tempt good men with money, who were already their friends, and of whose virtues they might freely avail them- selves; but to buy and corrupt ill men, who op- posed their measures in council, that, thus si- lenced, they might give them less trouble; it being much better to stop the months of their enemies than of their friends. Such was Philopoemen's contempt of money. Some time after, Diophanes, being general of the Achseans, and hearing that the Lacedaemoni- ans had thoughts of withdrawing from the league, determined to chastise them.* Meanwhile they prepared for war and raised great commotions in Peloponnesus. Philopoernen tried to appease Dio- phanes and keep him quiet: representing to him, "That while Antiochus and the Romans were contending in the heart of Greece, with two such powerful armies, an Achaean general should turn his attention to them; and, instead of lighting up a war at home, should overlook and pass by some real injuries." When he found that Diophanes did not hearken to him, but marched along with Flaminius into Laconia, and that they took their route toward Sparta, he did a thing that cannot be vindicated bylaw and strict justice, but which dis- covers a great and noble daring. He got into the town himself, and, though but a private man, shut the gates against an Achaean general and a Roman consul; healed the divisions among the Lacedaemonians, and brought them back to the league. Yet, afterward, when he was general himself, upon some new subject of complaint against that people, he restored their exiles, and put eighty citizens to death, as Polybius tells us; or, accord- ing to Aristocrates, three hundred and fifty. He demolished their walls, took from them great part of their territory, and added it to that of Megalopolis. All who had been made free of Sparta by the tyrants he disfranchised, and carri- ed into Achaia; except three thousand who refus- * The same yar, Cains Livius, with the Roman fleet, defeated that of Antiochus, near Ephesus. ed to quit the place, and those he sold for slaves. By way of insult, as it were, upon Sparta, with the money arising thence he built a portico in Megalopolis. Pursuing his vengeance against that unhappy people, who had already suffered more than they deserved, he added one cruel and most unjust thing to fill up the measure of it; he destroyed their constitution. He abolished the discipline of Lycurgus, compelled them to give their children and youth an Achaean education, instead of that of their own country, being per- suaded that their spirit could never be humbled while they adhered to the institutions of their great lawgiver. Thus brought by the weight of their calamities to have the sinews of their city cut by Philopoemen, they grew tame and submis- sive. Sometime after, indeed, upon application to the Romans, they shook off the Achaean customs, and re-established their ancient ones, as far as it could be done, after so much misery and corrup- tion. When the Romans were carrying on the war with Antiochus in Greece, Philopoemen was in a private station. And when he saw Antiochus sit still at Chelcia, and spend his time in youthful love and a marriage unsuitable to his years, while the Syrians roamed from town to town without discipline and without officers, and minded noth- ing but their pleasures, he repined extremely that he was not then general of the Achaeans, and scrupled not to declare that he envied the Romans their victory: " For had I been in command," said he, " I would have cut them all in pieces in the taverns." After Antiochus was overcome, the Romans pressed still harder upon Greece, and hemmed in the Achaeans with their power: the orators too inclined to their interest. Under the auspices of Heaven, their strength prevailed over a^; and the point was at hand, where for- tune, who had long veered, was to stand still. In these circumstances, Philopoemen, like a good pilot, struggled with the times. Sometimes he was forced to give way a little and yield to the times, but on most occasions maintaining the con- flict, he endeavored to draw all that were consid- erable either for their eloquence or riches, to the side of liberty. Aristaenetus the Megalopolitan, who had great interest among the Aehaeans, but always courted the Romans, declared it in coun- cil as his opinion, " That they ought not to be opposed or disobliged in anything. Philopoemen heard him with silent indignation; and, at last, when he could refrain no longer, said to him, " And why, in such haste, wretched man, to see an end of Greece ! " Manius,* the Roman con- sul, after the defeat of Antiochus, moved the Achaeans to permit the Lacedaemonian exiles to return, and Titus seconded him in his applica- tion; but Philopoernen opposed it, not out of any ill will to the exiles, but because he was willing they should be indebted for that benefit to him- self and the Achaeans, and not to the favor of Titus and the Romans. For the next year, when he was general himself, he restored them. Thug his gallant spirit led him to contend with the pre- vailing powers. He was elected general of the Achaeans. the eighth time, when seventy years of age; and now he hoped not only to pass the year of his magis- tracy without war, but the remainder of his life in quiet. For as the force of distempers abates with the strength of the body, so in the states of Greece, the spirit of contention failed with theiz power. Some avenging deity, however, threw * Manius Vcilius Glabho. 254 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. him down at last, like one who, with matchless speed, runs over the race, and stumbles at the goal. It seems, that being in company where a certain general was mentioned as an extraordinary man, Philopoemen said, " There was no great ac- count to be made of a man who suffered him- self to be taken alive." A few days after this, Dinocrates the Messenian, who was particularly on ill terms with Philopoemen, and, indeed, not upon good ones witli any one, by reason of his profligate and wicked life, found means to draw Messene off from the league; and it was also said that he was going to seize, a place called Colonis.* Philopoemeu was then at Argos, sick of a fever; but upon this news he pushed to Megalopolis, and reached it in one day, though it was at the distance of four hundred furlongs. From thence he presently drew out a body of horse, consisting of the nobility, but all young men, who from af- fection to his person and ambition for glory, foi- l-owed him as volunteers. With these he marched toward Messene, and meeting Dinocrates on Evan- der's hill,t he attacked and put him to flight. But five hundred men, who guarded the flat coun- try, suddenly coming up, the others, who were routed, seeing them, rallied again about the hills. Hereupon, Philopoemen, afraid of being sur- rounded, and desirous of saving his young caval- ry, retreated upon rough and difficult ground, while he was in the rear, often turning upon the enemy, and endeavoring to draw them entirely upon himself. Yet none of them dared to en- counter him; they only shouted and rode about him at a distance. As he often faced about, and left his main body, on account of his young men, each of whom he was solicitous to put out of danger, at last he found himself alone amidst a number of the enemy. Even then they durst not attack him hand to hand, but, hurling their darts at a distance, they drove him upon steep and craggy places, where he could scarcely make his horse go, though he spurred him continu- ally. He was still active through exercise, and for that reason his age was no hindrance to his escape; but being weakened by sickness, and ex- tremely fatigued with his journey, his horse threw him, now heavy and encumbered, upon the stones. His head was wounded with the fall, and he lay a long time speechless, so that the enemy, thinking him dead, began to turn him, in order to strip him of his arms. But finding that he raised his head and opened his eyes, they gath- ered thick about him, bound his hands behind his back, and led him off with such unworthy treatment and gross abuse, as Philopoemen could never have supposed he should come to suffer, even from Dinocrates. The Messenians elated at the news, flocked to the gates. But when they saw Philopoemen dragged along in a manner so unworthy of the glory of his achievements and trophies, most of them were touched with pity and compassion for his misfortune. They shed tears, and contemned all human greatness as a faithless support, as van- ity, and nothing. Their tears, by little and little, turned to kind words, and they began to say, they ought to remember his former benefits, and the liberty he had procured them by expelling the ty- * There is no such place known as Colonis. Livy (lib. 39.) calls it Corone; and Plutarch probably wrote Corona, or Coronis. Strabo mentions the latter as" a place in the neighborhood of Messene. t Evandcr's hill is likewise unknown. Polybius, and after him Pausanius, mentions a hill called Evan (which name it probably had from the cries of the Bacchanals), fiot far from Messene. rant Nabis. A few there were, indeed, who, to gratify Dinocrates, talked of putting Philopoemen to torture and to death, as a dangerous and im- placable enemy, and the more to be dreaded by Dinocrates, if he escaped after being made pris- oner, and treated with such indignity. At last they put him in a dungeon called the Treasury,* which had neither air nor light from without, and which having no doors was closed with a greut stone. In this dungeon they shut him up with the stone, and placed a guard around it. Meanwhile, the Achsean cavalry recollecting themselves after their flight, found that Philopoe- men was not with them, and probably might have lost his life. Thev roade a stand, and called him with loud cries, blaming each other for making a base and shameful escape, by abandoning their general, who had been prodigal of his own life in order to save theirs. By much search and inquiry about the country, they got intelligence that he was taken prisoner, anci carried the heavy news to the states of Achaia; woo, considering it as the greatest of losses, resolved to send an em- bassy to demand him of the Messenians; and in the meantime prepared for war. While the Acheeans were taking toese resolu- tions, Dinocrates, who most of all drtuded time, as the thing most likely to save Philop.3rnen, de- termined to be beforehand with the league. Therefore, when night was come, and the multi- tude retired, he opened the dungeon, and sent in one of his servants with a dose of poison, and or- ders not to leave him until he had taken it. Phi- lopoemen was laid down in his cloak, bul not asleep; vexation and resentment kept him awake. When he saw the light and a man standing by him with a cup of poison, he raised himself up, as well as his weakness would permit, and, receiv- ing the cup, asked him, "Whether he had heard anything of his cavalry, and particularly of Ly- cortas?" The executioner answering that they almost all escaped, he nodded his head in sign of satisfaction; and looking kindly upon him said, " Thou bringest good tidings, and we are not in all respects unhappy." Without uttering another word, or breathing the least sigh, he drank off the poison, and lay down again. He was already brought so low that he could not make much struggle with the fatal dose, and it dispatched him presently. The news of his death filled all Achaia with grief and lamentation. AH the youth imme- diately repaired with the deputies of the several cities to Megalopolis, where they resolved, with- out loss of time, to take their revenge. For this purpose, having chosen Lycortasf for their gene- ral, they entered Messene, and ravaged the coun- try, until the Messenians with one consent opened their gates and received them. Dinocrates pre- vented their revenge by killing himself: and those who voted for having Philopoemen put to death, followed his example. But such as were for hav- ing him put to the torture, were taken by Lycor- tas, and reserved for more painful punishments. When they had burned his remains, they put the ashes in an urn, and returned not in a dis- orderly and promiscuous manner, but uniting a kind of triumphal inarch with the funeral so- lemnity. First came the foot with crowns of * The public treasure was kept there; and it was shut np with an immense stone, moved to it by an engine. Liv lib. xxxix. t This was in the second year of the hundred and forty ninth Olympiad. Lycortas was father to Polybins the his torian, who was in the actioi., and might be then aboa* twenty years of age. TITUS QUINCTIUS FLAMINIUS. 255 victory on their heads, and tears in their eyes; and attended by their captive enemies in fetters. Polybius, the general's son, with the principal Achaeans about him, carried the urn, which was adorned with ribbons and garlands, so that it was hardly visible. The march was closed by the cavalry completely armed and superbly mounted; they neither expressed in their looks the melan- choly of such a mourning nor the joy of a victory. The people of the towns and villages on their way, flocked out, as if it had been to meet him re- turning from a glorious campaign, touched the urn \vith great respect, and conducted it to Mega- lopolis. The old men, the women, and children, who joined the procession, raised such a bitter lamentation, that it spread through the army, and was re-echoed by the city, which, beside her grief for Philopcemcn, bemoaned her own calamity, as in hirn she thought she lost the chief rank and influence among the Acha?ans. His interment was suitable to his dignity, and the Messenian prisoners were stoned to death at his tomb. P/Iany statues were set up, and many honors decreed hirn by the Grecian cities. But when Greece was involved in the dreadful mis- fortunes of Corinth, a certain Roman attempted to get them all pulled down,* accusing him in form, as if he had been alive, of implacable enmity to the Romans. When he had finished the impeach- ment, and Folybius had answered his calumnies, neither Mummius nor his lieutenants would suf- fer the monuments of so illustrious a rnan to be defaced, though he had opposed both Flaminius and Glabrio not a little. For they made a proper distinction between virtue and interest, between honor and advantage; well concluding, that re- wards and grateful acknowledgments a-e -ilways due from persons obliged to their benefactors, and honor and respect from men of merit to each other. So much concerning Philopoemen. TITUS QUINCTIUS FIAMINIDS. THE person whom we put in parallel with Phi- lopoemen, is Titus Quinctius Flaminius.* Those who are desirous of being acquainted with his countenance and figure, need but look upon the statue in brass, which is erected at Rome with a Greek inscription upon it. opposite the Circus Mazimus, near the great statue of Apollo, which was brought from Carthage. As to his disposi- tion he was quick both to resent an injury, and to do a service. But his resentment was not in all respects like his affection, for he punished lightly, and soon forgot the offense; but his at- tachments and services were lasting and complete. For the persons whom he had obliged he ever re- tained a kind regard; as if, instead of receiving, they had conferred a favor; and considering them as his greatest treasure, he was always ready to protect and to promote them. Naturally covetous of honor and fame, and not choosing to let others have any share in his great and good actions, he took more pleasure in those whom he could assist, than in those who could give him assistance; looking upon the former as persons who afforded room for the exertion of virtue, and the latter as his rivals in glory. From his youth he was trained up to the pro- fession of arms. For Rome having then many important wars upon her hands, hr youth betook themselves by times to arms, and had early op- portunities to qualify themselves to command. Flaminius served like the rest, and was first a j legionary tribune, under the consul Marcel lus,f in the war with Hannibal. Marcel 1 us fell into an ambuscade and was slain; after which Flaminius was appointed governor of Tarentum, newly re- taken, and of the country about it. In this commission he grew no less famous for his ad- ininist.ra.iion of justice than for his military skill, for which reason he was appointed chief director of the two colonies that were sent to the cities of Narnia and Cossa. This inspired him with such lofty thoughts, that, overlooking the ordinary previous steps by which young men ascend, I mean the offices of tribune, praDtor, and a3dile, he aimed directly at the consulship. Supported by those colonists, he presented himself as a candidate. But the tri- bunes Fulvius and Manlius opposed him, insisting that it was a strange and unheard-of thing, for a rnan so young, who was not yet initiated in the first mysteries .of government, to intrude, in con- tempt of the laws, into the highest office of the state. The senate referred the affair to the suf- frages of the people ; and the people elected him consul, though he was not yet thirty years old, with Sextus ^Clius. The lots being cast for the provinces, the war with Philip and the Mace- donians fell to Flaminius; and this happened very fortunately for the Roman people; as that depart- ment required a general who did not want to do everything by force and violence, but rather by gentleness and persuasion. For Macedonia fur- nished Philip with a sufficient number of men for his wars, but Greece was his principal dependence for a war of any length. She it was that supplied hirn with money and provisions, with strongholds and places of retreat, and, in a word, with all the materials of war. So that if she could not be disengaged from Philip, the war with hirn could not be decided by single battle. Beside, the * This happened thirty-seven years after his death, that is, the second yeai of the hundred and forty-eighth Olym- piad, one hundred and forty-live years before the Christian * It ought to be written Flamininun, not Flaminiiig. Poiybius, Livy, and all the other historians, write it Ftami- ninus. In leed, the Flaminii were a very different family from the Flamininii. The former were patricians, the latter plebeians. Caius Flaminius, who was killed in t.he battle at the lake of Thrasymenus, was of the plebeian family. Beside, some manuscripts, for instance the Vulcob, an Anon., and one that Dacier consulted, have it Flamininus, which would be sufficient authority to correct it. But that would occasion some inconvenience, because Plutarch has called him Flaminius in other places, as well as here, in his life; and, indeed, several modern writers have done the same. t He was appointed a tribune at the age of twenty, in the fourth year of the hundred and forty-second Olympiad. Consequently, he was born in the first year of the hundred and thirty eighth Olympiad, which was" the year of Rome 526. Livy tells us, that he was thirty-three years of age, when he proclaimed liberty to Greece. 256 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Greeks as yet had but L'tile acquaintance with the Romaics: it was now first to be established by the intercourse of business: and, therefore, they would not so soon have embraced a foreign authority, instead of that they had been so long accustomed to, if the Roman general had not been a man of great good nature, who was more ready to avail himself of treaty than of the sword, who had a persuasive manner where he applied, and was affable and easy of access when applied to, and who had a constant and invariable regard to justice. But this will better appear from his actions them- selves. Titus finding that Sulpitius and Publius,* his predecessors in command, had not entered Mace- donia until late in the season, and then did not prosecute the war with vigor, but spent their time in skirmishing to gain some particular post or pass, to intercept some provisions, determined not to act like them. They had wasted the year of their consulate in the enjoyment of their new honors, and in the administration of domestic affairs, and toward the close of the year they re- paired to their province; by which artifice they got their command continued another year, being the first year in character of consul, and the second of proconsul. But Titus, ambitious to distinguish his consulship by some important ex- pedition, left the honors and prerogatives he had in Rome; and having requested the senate to per- mit his brother Lucius to command the naval forces, and selected three thousand men, as yet in full vigor and spirits, and the glory of the field, from those troops, who, under Scipio, had sub- dued Asdrubal in Spain, anJ Hannibal in Africa, he crossed the sea, and got safe into Epirus. There he found Pubiius encamped over against Philip, who had been a long time defending the fords of the river Apsus and the adjoining straits; and that Publius had not been able to effect any- thing by reason of the natural strength of the place. Titus having taken the command of the army, and sent Publius home, set himself to consider the nature of the country. Its natural fortifica- tions are equal to those of Tempe, but it is not like Tempe in the beauty of the woods and groves, and the verdure of valleys and delicious meads. To the right and left there is a chain of lofty mountains, between which there is a deep and long channel. Down this runs the river Apsus, like the Peneus, both in its appearance and rapidity. It covers the foot of the hills on each side, so that there is left only a narrow craggy path, cut out close by the stream, which is not easy for an army to pass at any time, and, when guarded, is not passable at all. There were some, therefore, who advised Fla- minius to tuke a compass through Dassaretis along the Lye us, which was an easy passage. But he was afraid thai if he removed too far from the sea into a country that was barren and little culti- vated, while Philip avoided a battle he might come to want provisions, and be constrained, like the general before him, to retreat to the sea, without effecting anything. This determined him to make his way up the mountains sword in hand, and to force a passage. But Philip's army being pos- sessed of the hights, showered down their darts and arrows upon the Romans from every quarter. Several sharp contests ensued, in which many were killed and wounded on both sides, but none that were likely to be decisive. * Publius Sulpitius Galba was consul two years before. Publius Villins Tappnlus was consul the year after Sulpitiug and next before Flaniinius. In the meantime, some shepherds of those mountains came to the consul with a discovery of a winding way, neglected by the enemy, by which they promised to bring his army to the top in three days at the farthest. And to confirm the truth of what they had said, they brought Charopa the son of Machatus, prince of the Epirots; who was a friend to the Romans, and privately assisted them out of fear of Philip. As Flaminius could confide in him, he sent away a tribune with four thousand foot and three hundred horse. The shepherds in bonds led the way. In the day-time they lay still in the hollows of the woods, and in the night they marched; for the moon was then at full. Flaminius having detached this party, let his main body rest the three (Jays, and only had some slight skirmishes with the enemy to take up their attention. But the day that he expected those who had taken the circuit to appear upon the hights, he drew out his forces early, both the heavy and light-armed, and dividing them into three parts, himself led the van ; marching his men along the narrowest path by the side of the river. The Macedonians galled him with their darts; but he maintained the combat notwitstand- ing the disadvantage of ground; and the other two parties fought with all the spirit of emulation, and clung to the rocks with astonishing ardor. In the meantime the sun arose, and a smoke appeared at a distance, not very strong, but like the mist of the hills. Being on the back of the enemy, they did not observe it, for it came from the troops who had reached the top. Amidst the fatigue of the engagement, the Romans were in doubt whether it was a signal or not. but they in- clined to believe it the thing they wished. And when they saw it increase, so as to darken the air, and to mount higher and higher, they were well assured that it came from the fires which their friends had lighted. Hereupon they set up loud shouts, and charging the enemy with greatei vigor, pushed them into the most craggy places The shouts were re-echoed by those behind at the top of the mountain. And IIOAV the Macedonians fled with the utmost precipitation. Yet there were not above two thousand slain, the pursuit being impeded by the difficulty of the ascent The Romans, however, pillaged the camp, seized the money and slaves, and became absolute mas- ters of the pass. They then traversed all Epirus, but with such order and discipline, that though they were at a great distance from their ships and the sea, and had not the usual monthly allowance of corn, or convenience of markets, yet they spared the country, which at the same time abounded in everything. For Flaminius was informed that Philip, in his passage, or rather flight, through Thessaly, had compelled the people to quit their habitations, and retire to the mountains, had burned the towns, and had given as plunder to his men what was too heavy or cumbersome to be carried oft', and so had in a manner yielded up the country to the Romans. The Consul, therefore, made a point of it to prevail with his men to spare it us their own, to march through it as land already ceded to them. The fcvent soon showed the benefit of this good order. For as soon as they entered Thessaly, all its cities declared for them; and the Greeks within Therrnopylffi longed for the protection of Fla- minius, and gave up their hearts to him. The Achreans renounced their alliance with Philip, and by a solemn decree resolved to take part with the Romans against him. And though the yto- 1 lians, who at that time were strongly attached t TITUS QUINCTIUS FLAMINIUS. 257 Romans, made the Opuntians an offer to gar- rison and defend their city, they refused it; and having sent for Fiarninius, put themselves in his hands. It is reported of Pyrrhus, when from an emi- nence he had first a prospect of the disposition of the Roman army, that he said, " I see nothing barbarian- like in the ranks of these barbarians." Indeed, all who once saw Flaminius, spoke of him in the same terms. They had heard the Macedonians represent him as the fierce comman- der of a host of barbarians, who was come to ruin and destroy, and to reduce all to slavery; and when afterward they met a young man of a mild aspect, who spoke very good Greek, and was a lover of true honor, they were extremely taken with him, and excited the kind regards of their cities to him, as to a general who would lead them to liberty. After this, Philip seeming inclined to treat, Fla- minius came to an interview with him,* and of- fered him peace and friendship with Rome on condition that he left the Grecians free, and with- drew his garrisons from their cities. And as he refused those terms, it was obvious, even to the partisans of Philip, that the Romans were not come to fight against the Greeks, but for Greece against the Macedonians. The rest of Greece acceding voluntarily to the confederacy, the Consul entered Boeotia, but in a peaceable manner, and the chief of the Thebans came to meet him. They were inclined to the Macedonian interest on account of Barchyllas, but they honored and respected Flaminius, and were willing to preserve the friendship of both. Flaminius received them with great goodness, embraced them, and went on slowly with them, asking various questions, and entertaining them with discourse, on purpose to give his soldiers time to come up. Thus advancing insensibly to the gates of Thebes, he entered the city with them. They did not indeed quite relish the thing, but they were afraid to forbid him, as he came so well attended. Then, as if he had been no ways mas- ter of the town, he endeavored by persuasion to bring it to declare for the Romans; king Attains seconding him, and using all his rhetoric to the Thebans. But that prince, it seems, in his eager- ness to serve Flaminius, exerting himself more than his age could bear, was seized, as he was speaking, with a giddiness or rheum, which made him swoon away. A few days after, his fleet conveyed him into Asia, and he died there. As for the Boeotians, they took part with the Romans. As Philip sent an embassy to Rome, Flaminius also sent his agents to procure a decree of the senate, prolonging his commission if the war con- tinued, or else empowering him to make peace. For his ambition made him apprehensive, that if a successor were sent, he should be robbed of all the honor of the war. His friends managed mat- ters so well for him, that Philip failed in his ap- plication, and the command was continued to Flaminius. Having received the decree, he was greatly elevated in his hopes, and marched imme- diately into Thessaly to carry on the war against Philip. His army consisted of more than twenty- six thousand men, of whom the ^Etolians fur- nished six thousand foot, and three hundred horse. Philip's forces were not inferior in number. They marched against each other, and arrived near Sco- tusa, where they proposed to decide the affair with the sword. The vicinity of two such armies had not the usual effect, to strike the officers with 17 See Polybius, Book xvii. a mutual awe; on the contrary, it increased their courage and ardor; the Romans being ambitious to conquer the Macedonians, whose valor and power Alexander had rendered so famous, and the Macedonians hoping, if they could beat the Ro- mans, whom they looked upon as a more respec- table enemy than the Persians, to raise the glory of Philip above that of Alexander. Flaminius, therefore, exhorted his men to behave with the greatest courage and gallantry, as they had to con- tend with brave adversaries in so glorious a thea- ter as Greece. On the other side, Philip, in order to address his army, ascended an eminence with- out his camp, which happened to be a burying- piace, either not knowing it to be so, or in the liurry not attending to it. There he began an oration, such as is usual before a battle; but the omen of a sepulcher spreading a dismal melan- choly among the troops, he stopped, and put off the action until another day. Next morning, at day-break, after a rainy night, the clouds turning into a mist, darkened the plain; and as the day came on, a foggy thick air de- scending from the hills, covered all the ground between the two camps. Those, therefore, that were sent out on both sides, to seize posts or to make discoveries, soon meeting unawares, en- gaged at the Cynoscephala, which are sharp tops of hills standing opposite each other, and so called from their resemblance to the heads of dogs. The success of these skirmishes was various, by reason of the unevenness of the ground, the same parties sometimes flying and sometimes pursuing, and re-inforcements were sent on both sides, as they found their men hard pressed and giving way; until at length, the day clearing up, the action became general. Philip, who was in the right wing, advanced from the rising ground with his whole phalanx against the Romans, who could not, even the bravest of them, stand the shock of the united shields and the projected spears.* But the Macedonian left wing being separated, and intersected by the hills,! Flaminius observing that, and having no hopes on the side where his troops gave way, hastened to the other, and there charged the enemy, where, on account of the ine- quality and roughness of the country, they could not keep in the close form of a phalanx, nor line their ranks to any great depth, but were forced to fight man to man, in heavy and unwieldy armor For the Macedonian phalanx is like an animal of enormous strength, while it keeps in one body, and preserves its union of locked shields; but when that is broken, each particular soldier loses of his force, as well because of the form of his armor, as because the strength of each consists rather in his being a part of the whole, than in his single person. When these were routed, some gave chase to the fugitives; others took those Macedonians in flank who were still fighting: the slaughter was great, and the wing lately victorious, soon broke in such a manner, that they threw dowa their arms and fled. There were no less than eight thousand slain, and about five thousand were taken prisoners. That Philip himself escaped, was chit fly owing to the ^Etolians, who took ^ plundering the camp, while the Romans were misied in the pursuit, so that at their return there was nothing left for them. * The pike of the fifth man in the file projected beyond the front. There was, therefore, an amazing strength in th phalanx, while it stood firm. But it had its inconvenience*. It could not act at all, except in a level and clear field. Polyb. lib. xvii, sub. fin. t Plutarch mdkes no mention of the elephants, which, according to Livy and Polybius, were very servicabl t Flaminius. 258 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. This from the first occasioned quarrels and mu- tual reproaches. But afterward Flaminius was hurt much more sensibly, when the ^Etolians ascribed the victory to themselves,* and endea- vored to prepossess the Greeks that the fact was really so. This report got such ground, that the poets and others, in the verses that were com- posed and sung on this occasion, put them before the Romans. The verses most in vogue were the following: Stranger! unwept, unhonor'd with a grave, See thrice ten thousand bodies of the brave! The fierce ^Etolians, and the Latian power, Led by Flaminius, ruled the vengeful hour, Emathia's scourge, beneath whose stroke they bled, And swifter than the roe, the mighty Philip fled. Alcaeus wrote this epigram in ridicule of Phi- lip, and purposely misrepresented the number of the slain. The epigram was indeed in everybo- dy's mouth, but Flaminius was much more hurt by it than Philip: for the latter parodied Alcaeus, as follows: Stranger! nnleaved, unhonor'd e'en with bark, See this sad tree, the gibbet of Alcaeus! Flaminius, who was ambitious of the praise of Greece, was not a little provoked at this; and there- fore managed everything afterward by himself, paying very little regard to the ^Etolians. They, in their turn, indulged their resentment; and, when Flaminius had admitted proposals for an accom- modation, and received an embassy for that pur- pose from Philip, the .yEtolians exclaimed in all the cities of Greece, that he sold the peace to the Macedonian, at a time when he might have put a final period to the war, and have destroyed that empire which first enslaved the Grecians. These speeches, though groundless, greatly perplexed the allies; but Philip coming in person to treat, and submitting himself and his kingdom to the discre- tion of Flaminius and the Romans, removed all suspicion. Thus Flaminius put an end to the war. He restored Philip his kingdom, but obliged him to quit all claims to Greece: he fined him a thou- sand talents; took away all his ships except ten; and sent Demetrius, one of his sons, hostage to Rome. In this pacification, he made a happy use of the present, and wisely provided for the time to come. For Hannibal, the Carthaginian, an inveterate enemy to the Romans, and now an exile, being at the court of Antiochus,t exhorted him to meet fortune, who opened her arms to him; and Antiochus himself, seeing his power very considerable, and that his exploits had al- ready gained him the title of the Great, began now to think of universal monarchy, and partic- ularly of setting himself against the Romans. Had not Flaminius, therefore, in his great wis- dom, foreseen this, and made peace,t Antiochus might have joined Philip in the war with Greece, and those two kings, then the most powerful in the world, have made a common cause? of it, which would have called Rome again to as great * Polybius informs us, that the Macedonians, in the first encounter, hatyhe advantage, and beat the Romans from the tops of the^nmtains they had gained. And he affirms, that in all probability the Romans would have been put to flight, had they not been supported by the JStolian cavalry. t This is a mistake. Hannibal did not come to the court of Antiochus until the year after Flaminius had proclaimed liberty to Greece at the Isthmian games; Cato and Valerius Flaccus, who were then consuls, having sent an embassy to Carthage to complain of him. t Polybius tells us, Flaminius was induced to conclude a peace upon the intelligence he had received, that Antiochus was marching tovrard Greece, with a powerful army; and be was afraid Philip might lay hold on that advantage to continue the war. conflicts and dangers as she had experienced in the war with Hannibal. But Flaminius, by thus putting an intermediate space of peace between the two wars, and finishing the one before tho other began, cut off at once the last hope of Phi- lip, and the first of Antiochus. The ten commissioners now sent by the senate to assist Flaminius advised him to set the rest of Greece free, but to keep garrisons in the cities of Corinth, Chalcis, and Demetrias, to secure them, in case of a war with Antiochus. But the JEio- lians, always severe in their accusations, and now more so than ever, endeavored to excite a spirit of insurrection in the cities, calling upon Flaminius to knock off the shackles of Greece; for so Philip used to term those cities. They asked the Greeks, i( if they did not find their chain very comfortable, now it was more polished, though heavier than be- fore; and if they did not consider Flaminius as the greatest of benefactors, for unfettering their feet, and binding them by the neck." Flaminius, af- flicted at these clamors, begged of the council of deputies and at last prevailed with them, to deliver those cities from the garrisons, in order that his favor to the Grecians might be perfect and entire. They were then celebrating the Isthmian games, and an innumerable company was seated to see the exercises. For Greece was now enjoying full peace after a length of wars; and, big with the ex- pectations of liberty, had given in to these festivi- ties on that occasion. Silence being commanded by sound of trumpet, a herald went forth and made proclamation, "That the Roman senate, and Titus Quinctius Flaminius, the general and procon- sul, having vanquished king Philip and the Mace- donians, took off all impositions, and withdrew all garrisons from Greece, and restored liberty, and their own laws and privileges, to the Corinthians, Locrians,Phocians, Euboeans, Achaeans, Phthistae, Magnesians, Thessalians, and Perrha3bians." At first the proclamation was not generally oi distinctly heard, but a confused murmur ran through the theater; some wondering, some ques- tioning, and others, calling upon the herald to re- peat what he had said. Silence being again com- manded, the herald raised his voice, so as to be heard distinctly by the whole assembly. The shout which they gave, in the transport of joy, was so prodigious, that it was heard as far as the sea. The people left their seats; there was no farther regard paid to the diversions; all hastened to embrace and address the preserver and protec- tor of Greece. The hyperbolical accounts that have often been given of the effect of loud shouts, were verified on that occasion. For the crows, when they happened to be flying over their heads, fell into the theater. The breaking of the air seems to have been the cause. For the sound of many united voices being violently strong, the parts of the air are separated by it, and a void is left, which affords the birds no support. Or per- haps the force of the sound strikes the birds like an arrow, and kills them in an instant. Or possi- bly, a circular motion is caused in the air, as a whirlpool is produced in the sea by the agitations of a storm. If Flaminius, as soon as he saw the assembly risen, and the crowd rushing toward him, had not avoided them, and got under covers, he must have been surrounSfcd, and, in all probabili- ty, suffocated by such a multitude. When they had almost spent themselves in acclamations about his pavilion, and night was now come, they retired; and whatever friends or fellow-citizens they happened to see, they embraced and caressed again, and then went and concluded the evening TITUS QUINCTIUS FLAMINIUS. 259 together in feasting and merriment. There, no doubt, redoubling their joy, they began to recol- lect and talk of the state of Greece: they observ- ed, " That notwithstanding the many great wars she had been engaged in for liberty, she had never gained a more secure or agreeable enjoyment of it, than now when others had fought for her; that glorious and important prize now hardly costing them a drop of blood, or a tear. That, of human excellencies, valor and prudence were but rarely met with, but that justice was still more un- common. That such generals as Agesilaus, Ly Bander, Nicias, and Alcibiades, knew how to manage a war, and to gain victories both by sea and land; but they knew not how to apply their success to generous and noble purposes. So that if one excepted the battles of Marathon, of Sala- mis, Platoea, and Thermopylae, and the actions of Cinion upon the Eurymedon, and near Cyprus, Greece had fought to no 6ther purpose than to bring the yoke upon herself, all the trophies she had erected, were monuments of her dishonor, and at last her affairs were ruined by the unjust ambition of her chiefs. But these strangers, who had scarce a spark of anything Grecian left,* who scarce retained a faint tradition of their an- cient descent from us, from whom the least incli- nation, or even word in our behalf, could not have been expected; these strangers have run the great- est risks, and submitted to the greatest labors, to deliver Greece from her cruel and tyrannic mas- ters, and to crown her with liberty again." These were the reflections the Grecians made, and the actions of Flaminius justified them, be- ing quite agreeable to his proclamation. For he immediately dispatched Lentulus into Asia, to set the Bargyllians free, and Titiliusf into Thrace, to draw Philip's garrisons out of the to^rns and ad- jacent islands. Publius Villius set sail in order to treat with Antiochus about the freedom 6f the Grecians under him. And Flaminius himself went to Chalcis, and sailed from thence to Mag- nesia, where he removed the garrisons, and put the government again in the hands of the people. At Argos, being appointed director of the Ne- mean games, he settled the whole order of them in the most agreeable manner, and on that occa- sion caused liberty to be proclaimed again by the crier. And as he passed through the other cities, he strongly recommended to them an adherence to law, a, strict course of justice, and domestic peace and una nimity. He healed their divisions ; he restored their exiles. In short, he took not more pleasure in the conquest of the Macedon- ians than in reconciling the Greeks to each other ; and their liberty now appeared the least of the benefits he had conferred upon them. It is said, that when Lycurgus the orator, had delivered Xenocrates the philosopher, out of the hands of the tax-gatherers who were hurrying him to prison for the tax paid by strangers, and had prosecuted them for their insolence; Xenocra- tes afterward meeting the children of Lycurgus, said to them, " Children, I have made a noble re- turn to your father for the service he did me; for all the world praise him for it." But the returns which attended Flaminius and the Eomans, for their beneficence to the Greeks, terminated not in praises only, but justly procured them the confi- dence of all mankind, and added greatly to their power. For now a variety of people not only ac- * According to Dionysius of ITalicarnassns, Rome was stocked with inhabitants at first,chiefly from those Grecian colonies which had settled in the south of Italy before the time of Romulus. f Polybius and Livy call him Lucius Stertinius. cepted the governors set over them by Rome, but even sent for them, and begged to be under their government. And not only cities and common- wealths, but kings when injured by other kings, had recourse to their protection. So that the di- vine assistance too perhaps co-operating, in a short time the whole world became subject to them. Flaminius also valued himself most upon the liberty he had bestowed on Greece. For hav- ing dedicated some silver bucklers together with his own shield, at Delphi, he put upon them the following inscription : Ye Spartan twins, who tamed the foaming steed, Ye frienrls, ye patrons of each glorious deed, Behold Flaminius, of /Eneas' line, Presents this offering at your awful sbrir Ye sons of love, your generous paths he trod, And snatch'd from Greece each little tyrant's rod. He offered also to Apollo a golden crown, with these verses inscribed on it : See grateful Titus homage pay To thee, the glorious god of day; See him with gold thy locks adorn, Thy locks which shed th' ambrosial morn. O grant him fame, and every gift divine, Who led the warriors of ^Eneas' line. The Grecians have had the noble gift of liber- ty twice conferred upon them in the city of Cor- inth; by Flaminius then, and by Nero in our times. It was granted both times during the cel- ebration of the Isthmian games. Flaminius had it proclaimed by a herald; but Nero himself de- clared the Grecians free and at liberty to be gov- erned by their own laws, in an oration which he made from the rostrum in the public assem- bly. This happened long after.* Flaminius next undertook a very just and hon- orable war against Nabis, the wicked and aban- doned tyrant of Lacedsemon; but in this case he disappointed the hopes of Greece. For, though he might have taken him prisoner, he would not; but struck up a league with him, and left Sparta unworthily in bondage ! whether it was that he feared, if the war was drawn out to any length, a successor would be sent him from Rome who would rob him of the glory of it; or wheth- er in his passion for fame he was jealous of the reputation of Philopcemen: a man who on all oc- casions had distinguished himself among the Greeks, and in that war particularly had given wonderful proofs both of courage and conduct ; insomuch that the Achasans gloried in him as much as in Flaminius, and paid him the same re- spect in their theaters. This greatly hurt Flam- inius; he could not bear that an Arcadian, who had only commanded in some inconsiderable wars upon the confines of his own country, should bo held in equal admiration with a Roman consul, who had fought for all Greece. Flaminius, however, did not want apologies for his conduct : for he said, " He put an end to the war, because he saw he could not destroy the tyrant without in- volving all the Spartans in the meantime in great calamities."! * Two hundred and sixty-three years. T Livy touches upon this reason; but at the same time he mentions others, more to the honor of this great man. Winter was now coming on, and the siege of Sparta migh have lasted a considerable time. The enemy's country wat so exhausted, that it could not supply him with provisions, and it was difficult to get convoys from any other quarter. Beside, Villius was returned from the court of Antiochus, and brought advice that the peace with that prince was not to be depended upon. In fact he had already entered Eu- rope with a fleet and army more numerous than before. And what forces hail they to oppose him, in case of a rup- ture, if Flaminius continued to employ his in the siege of Sparta? Liv. *xxiv. 33, 34. 260 PLUTARCH'S LIVES The Achseans decreed Flaminius many honors, but none seemed equal to his services, unless it were one present, which pleased him above all the rest. It was this: The Romans who had the misfortune to be taken prisoners in the war with Hannibal, were sold for slaves, and dispersed in various places. Twelve hundred of them were now in Greece. That sad reverse of fortune made them always unhappy, but now (as might be expected) they were still more so, when they met their sons, their brothers, or their acquain- tances, and saw them free while they were slaves, and conquerors while they were captives. Flam- inius did not pretend to take them from their masters, though his heart sympathized with their distress. But the Ac.hseans redeemed them at the rate of five minae a man, and having collected them together, made Flaminius a present of them, just as he was going on board; so that ho set sail with great satisfaction, having found a glorious recompense for his glorious services, a return suitable to a man of such humane senti- ments and such a lover of his country. This in- deed made the most illustrious part of his triumph. For these poor men got their heads shaved, and wore the cap of liberty, as the custom of slaves is upon their manumission, and in this habit they follow- ed the chariot of Flaminius. But to add to the splendor of the show, there were the Grecian helmets, the Macedonian targets and spears, and the other spoils carried in great pomp befora him. And the quantity of money was not small; for, as Itanus relates it, there were carried in this tri- umph three thousand seven hundred and thirteen pounds of unwrought gold, forty-three thousand two hundred and seventy of silver, fourteen thousand five hundred and fourteen pieces of coined gold called Philippics; beside which, Phi- lip owed a thousand talents. But the Romans were afterward prevailed upon, chiefly by the mediation of Flaminius, to remit this debt; Philip was declared their ally, and his son, who had been with them as a hostage, sent home. After this Antiochus passed over into Greece with a great fleet and a powerful army, and solic- ited the states to join him. The ^Etolia'ns, who had oeen a long time ill affected to the Romans, took his part and suggested this pretense for the war, that he cameto bring the Grecians liberty. The Grecians had no want of it, for they were free already; but, as he had no better cause to assign, they instructed him to cover his attempt with that splendid pretext. The Romans, fearing, on this account, a re- volt in Greece, as well as the strength of Antio- chus, sent the Consul Manius Acilius tocommand in the war, but appointed Flaminius his lieutenant.,* for the sake of iris influence in Greece. His ap- pearance there immediately confirmed such as were yet friends, in their fidelity, and prevented those who were wavering from an entire defec- tion. This was effected by the respect they bore him: for it operated like a potent remedy at the beginning of a disease. There were few, indeed, so entirely gained and corrupted by the ^Etolians, that his interest did not prevail with them; yet even these, though he was much exasperated against them at present, he saved after the battle. For Antiochus, being defeated at Thermopylae, and forced to fly, immediately embarked for Asia. Upon this, the Consul Manius went against some f the ^Etolians, and besieged their towns, aban- doning others to Philip. Thus great ravages were committed by the Macedonians among the According to Livy, it was not Titus, but Lucius Clumc- Uns, who wag appointed lieutenant to Glabrio. Delopians and Magnesians on one hand, and among the Athamanians and Aperantiaus on the other; and Manius himself, having sacked the city of Heraclea, besieged Naupactus, then in the hands of the ^Etolians. But Flaminius, being touched with compassion for Greece, went from Peloponnesus to the Consul by water. He be- gan by remonstrating, that the Consul, though he had won the victory himself, suffered Philip to reap the fruits of it; and that while, to gratify his re- sentment, he spent his time about one town, the Macedonians were subduing whole provinces and kingdoms. The besieged happened to see Flam- inius, called to him from the walls, stretched out their hands, and begged his interposition. He gave them no answer, but turned round and wept and then immediately withdrew. Afterward, however, he discoursed with Manius so effectually that he appeased his anger, and procured the JEio- lians a truce, and time to send deputies to Rome, to petition for favorable terms. But he had much greater difficulties to combat when he applied to Manius in behalf of the Chal- cidians. The Consul was highly incensed at them, on account of the marriage which Antiochus celebrated among them, even after the war was begun: a marriage every way unsuitable as well as unseasonable; for he was far advanced in years, and the bride very young. The person he thus fell in love with was daughter to Cleoptolemus, and a virgin of incomparable beauty. This match brought the Chalcidians entirely into the king's interest, and they suffered him to make use of their city as a place of arms. After the battle he fled with great precipitation to Chalcis, and taking with him his young wife, his treasures, and his friends, sailed from thence to Asia. And now Manius in his indignation marched directly against Chalcis, Flaminius followed, and endeavor- ed toappease his resentment, at last he succeed- ed, by his assiduities with him and the most respectable Romans who were likely to have an influence upon him. The Chalcidians, thus saved from destruction, consecrated the most beautiful and the noblest of their public edifices to Titus fFlaminius; and such inscriptions as these are to be seen upon them to this day: "The people dedi- cated this Gymnasium to Titus and Hercules: the people consecrate the Delphinium to Titus and Apollo." Nay, what is more, even in our days a priest of Titus is formally elected and -declared; and on occasions of sacrifice to him, when the libations are over, they sing a hymn, the greatest part of which, from the length of it, I omit, and only give the conclusion: While Rome's protecting power we prove, Her faith adore, her virtues love, Still, as our strains to heaven aspire, Let. Rome and Titus wake the lyre! To these our grateful altars bla?.e, And our long Pseans pour immortal praise. The rest of the Grecians conferred upon him all due honors; and what realized those honors, and added to their luster, was the extraordinary affection of the people, which he had gained by his lenity and moderation. For if he happened to be at variance with any one upon account of business, or about a point of honor, as, for in- stance, with Philopoemen, and with Diophanes, general of the Achaeans, he never gave in to ma- lignity, or carried his resentment into action, but let it expire in words, in such expostulations as the freedom of public debates may seem to justify. Indeed, no man ever found him vindictive, but he often discovered a hastiness and passionate turn letting this aside, he was the most agree- able man in the world, and a pleasantry mixed TITUS QUINCTIUS FLAMINIUS. 261 with strong sense distinguished his conversa- tion. Thus, to divert the Acliffians from their purpose of conquering the island of Zacynthus, he told them, "It. was as dangerous for them to put fcheir heads out of Peloponnesus, as it was for the tortoise to trust his out of his shell." In the first Conference which Philip and he had about peace, Philip taking occasion to say, "Titus, you come \vith a numerous retinue, whereas I come quite jalone:" Flaminius answered, "No wonder if you come alone, for you have killed all your friends mnd relations." Dinocrates the Messenian being ill company at Rome, drank until he was intoxi- cated, and then put on a woman's habit, and danced in that disguise. Next day he applied to Flaminius and begged his assistance in a design which he had conceived, to withdraw Messene from the Achaean league. Flaminius answered, "I will consider of it; but I am surprised that you, who conceive such great designs, can sing and dance at a carousal." And when the ambassadors of Antiochus represented to the Achceans, how nu- merous the king's forces were, and, to make them appear still more so, reckoned them up by all their different names, "I supped once," said Flam- inius, "with a friend; and upon my complaining of the great number of dishes, and expressing my wonder how he could furnish his table with such a vast variety; be not uneasy about that, said rny friend for, it is all hog's flesh; and the difference is only in the dressing and the sauce. In like manner, I say to you, my Achsean friend, be not astonished at the number of Antiochus's forces, at these pike- men, these halberdiers and cuirassiers; for they are all Syrians, only distinguished by the trifling arms they bear." After these great ions in Greece, and the conclusion of the war with Antiochus, Flaminius was created Censor. This is the chief dignity in the state, and the crown as it were, of all its hon- ors. He had for colleague the son of Marcellus, who had been five times- Consul. They expelled four senators who were men of no great note: and they admitted as citizens all who offered, provided that their parents were free. But they were forced to this by Terentius Culeo, a tribune of the people, who in opposition to the nobility, procured such orders from the commons. Two of the greatest and most powerful men of those times, Bcipio Africanus and Marcus Cato, were then at variance with each other. Flaminius appointed the former of these president of the senate, as the first and best man in the commonwealth; and with the latter he entirely broke, on the following unhappy occasion. Titus had a brother named Lucius Quinctius Flaminius, unlike him in all respects, but quite abandoned in his pleasures, and regardless of decorum. This Lucius had a favor- ite boy whom he carried with him, even when he Commanded armies and governed provinces. One lay as they were drinking, the boy, making his court to Lucius, said, "I love you so tenderly, that preferring your satisfaction to my own, I left a show of gladiators, to come to you, though [ have never seen a man killed." Lucius, delight- ed with the flattery, made answer, "If that be all you need not be in the least uneasy, for I shall soon satisfy your longing." He immediately or- dered a convict to be brought from the prison, and Having sent for one of his lictors, commanded him .o strike off the man's head, in the room where they were carousing. Valerius Antias writes, that this was done to gratify a mistress. And Livy relates, from Cato's writings, that a Gaulish deserter, being at the doo'r with his wife and chil- dren, Lucius took him into the banqueting-room, and killed him with his own hand ; but it is probable that Cato said this to aggravate the charge. For that the person killed was not a deserter but a prisoner, and a condemned one too, appears from many writers, and particularly from Cicero, in his treatise on Old Age, where he introduces Cato himself giving that account of the matter. Upon this account Cato, when he was Censor, and set himself to remove all obnoxious persons from the senate, expelled Lucius, though he was of Consular dignity. His brother thought this pro- ceeding reflected dishonor upon himself; and they both went into the assembly in the form of sup- pliants, and besought the people with tears, that Cato might be obliged to assign his reason for fixing such a mark of disgrace upon so illustrious a family. The request appeared reasonable. Cato without the least hesitation came out, and standing up with his colleague, interrogated Titus, whether he knew anything of that feast. Titus answering in the negative, Cato related the affair, and called upon Lucius to declare upon oath, whether it was not true. As Lucius made no reply, the people deter- mined the note of infamy to be just, and conducted Cato home with great honor, from the tribunal. Titus, greatly concerned at his brother's mis- fortune, leagued with the inveterate enemies of Cato, and gaining a majority in the senate, quash- ed and annulled all the contracts, leases, and bar- gains, which Cato had made relating to the public revenues; and stirred up many and violent prose- cutions against him. But I know not whether he acted well, or agreeably to good policy, in thus be- coming a mortal enemy to a man who had only done what became a lawful magistrate and a good citizen, for the sake of one who was a relation in- deed, but an unworthy one, and who had met with the punishment he deserved. Some time after, however, the people being assembled in the theaters to see the shows, and the senate seated, according to custom, in the most honorable place Lucius was observed to go in a humble arid de- jected manner, and sit down upon one of the low- est benches. The people could not bear to see this, but called out to him to go up higher, and ceased not until he went to the Consular bench, who made room for him. The native ambition of Flaminius was applauded, while it found suffi- cient matter to employ itself upon in the wars we have given account of. And his serving in the army as a Tribune, after he had been Consul, was regarded with a favorable eye, though no one re- quired it of him. But when he was arrived at an age that excused him from all employments, he was blamed for indulging a violent passion for fame, and a youthful impetuosity in that inactive season of life. To some excess of this kind seems to have been owing his behavior with respect to Hannibal,* at which the world was much offended. For Hannibal having fled his country, took refuge first at the court of Antiochus. But Antiochus, after he had lost the battle of Phrygia, gladly ac- cepting conditions of peace, Hannibal was again forced to fly; and, after wandering through many countries, at length settled in Bithynia, and put himself under the protection of Prusias. The Ro- * Flaminius was no more than forty-four years of age, when he went ambassador to Prusias. It was not. there- fore, an unseasonable desire of a public character, or ex- travagant passion for fame, which was blamed in him on this occasion, but an unworthy persecution of a great, though unfortunate man. We are inclined, however, to think, that he had secret instructions from the senate for what he did: for it is not probable that a man of his mild and humane disposition, would choose to hunt down an old unhappy warrior: and Plutarch confirms; this opinion after ward. 262 PL U TARCH'S LIVES. mans knew this perfectly well, but they took no notice of it, considering him now as a man en- feebled by age, and overthrown by fortune. But Flaminius, being sent by the senate upon an em- bassy to Prusias about other matters, and seeing Hannibal at his court,could not endure that he should be suffered to live. And though Prusias used much intercession and entreaty in behalf of a man who came to him as a suppliant and lived with him under the sanction of hospitality, he could not prevail. It seems there was an ancient oracle, which thus prophesied concerning the end of Hannibal, Libvssan earth shall hide the bones of Hannibal. He therefore thought of nothing but ending his days at Carthage, and being buried in Libya. But in Bithynia, there is a sandy place near the sea, which has a small village in it called Libyssa. In this neighborhood Hannibal lived. But having always been apprized of the timidity of Prusias, and distrusting him on that account, and dreading withal the attempts of the Romans, he had some time before ordered several subterraneous pas- sages to be dug under his house, which were con- tinued a great way under ground, and terminated in several different places, but were all indiscerni- ble without. As soon as he was informed of the orders which Flaminius had given, he attempted to make his escape by those passages; but finding the king's guards at the outlets, he resolved to kill Himself. Some say, he wound his cloak about his neck, and ordered his servant to put his knees upon his back, and pull with all his force, and not to leave twisting until he had quite strangled him. Others tell us, that, like Themistocles and Midas, he drank bull's blood. But Livy writes, that having poison in readiness, he mixed it for a draught; and taking the cup in his hand, "Let us deliver the Romans," said he, "from their cares and anxieties, since they think it too tedious and dan- gerous to wait for the death of a poor hated old man. Yet shall not Titus gain a conquest worth envying, or suitable to the generous proceedings of his ancestors, who sent to caution Pyrrhus, though a victorious enemy, against the poison that was prepared for him." Thus Hannibal is said to have died. When the news was brought to the senate, many in that august body were highly displeased. Flaminius appeared too officious and cruel in his precautions to procure the death of Hannibal, now tamed by his misfortunes, like a bird that through age had lost his tail and feathers, and suffered to live so. And as he had no orders to put him to death, it was plain that he did it out of a passion of fame, and to be mentioned in aftertirnes as the destroyer of Hannibal.* On this occasion, they recollected and admired more than ever, the hu- mane and generous behavior of Scipio Africanus; for when he had vanquished Hannibal in Africa, at a time when he was extremely formidable, and deemed invincible, he neither insisted on his ban- * If this was really the motive of Flaminius, and nothing of a political tendency entered into his dastardly destruc- tion of that great general, it would hardly be possible for ail the virtues, all the triumphs of the Romans, to redeem him from the infamy of so base an action. ishment, nor demanded him of his fellow-eill- zens; but, as he had embraced him at the confe- rence which he had with him before the battle, so, after it, when he settled the conditions of peace, he offered not the least affront or insult to his misfortunes. It is reported that they met again at Ephesus, and Hannibal, as they walked together, taking the upper hand, Africanus suffered it, and walked on without the least concern. Afterward, they fell into conversation about great generals, and Hannibal asserted that Alexander was the greatest general the world had ever seen, that Pyrrhus was the second, and himself the third. Scipio smiled at this, and said, " But what rank would you have placed yourself in if I had not conquered you?" " 0, Scipio," said he, " then I would not have placed myself the third, but the first." The generality admiring this moderation of Scipio, found the greater fault with Flaminius for taking the spoils of an enemy, whom another man had slain. There were some, indeed, who ap- plauded the thing, and observed, " That while Hannibal lived, they must have looked upon him as a fire, which wanted only to be blown into a flame. That when he was in the vigor of his age, it was not his bodily strength or .his right hand which was so dreadful to the Romans, but his capacity and experience, together with his innate rancor and hatred to their name. And that these are not altered by age; for the native disposition still overrules the manners; whereas fortune, far from remaining the same, change* continually, and by new hopes invites those tv new enterprises who were ever at war with us in their hearts." And the subsequent events con- tributed still more to the justification of Fla- minius. For, in the first place, Aristonicus, the son of a harper's daughter, on the strength of his being reputed the natural son of Eumenes, filled all Asia with tumult and rebellion: and in the next place, Mithridates, after such strokes as he had met with from Sylla and Fimbria, and so ter- rible a destruction among his troops and officers, rose up stronger than ever against Lucullus, both by sea and land. Indeed, Hannibal was never brought so low as Caius Marius had been. For Hannibal enjoyed the friendship of a king, from whom he received liberal supplies, and with whose officers, both in the navy and army, he had im- portant connections; whereas Marius was a wan- derer in Africa, and forced to beg his bread. But the Romans, who had laughed at his fall, soon after, bled in their own streets, under his rods and axes, and prostrated themselves before him. So true it is, that there is nothing either great or little at this moment, which is sure to hold so in the days to come; and that the changes we have to experience only terminate with our lives. For this reason, some tell us, that Flaminius did not do this of himself, but that he was joined in com- mission with Lucius Scipio, and that the sole pur- pose of their embassy was to procure the death of Hannibal. As we have no account, after this, of any political or military act of Flaminius, and only know that he died in his bed, it is time U come to the comparison. FLAMINIUS AND PHILOPCEMEN COMPARED. 268 FLAMINIUS AND PHILOPCEMEN COMPARED. IF we consider the extensive benefits which Greece received from Flaminius, we shall find that neither Philopoernen, nor other Grecians, more illustrious than Philopogrnen, will stand the com- parison with him. For the Greeks always fought against Greeks; but Flaminius, who was not of Greece, fought against that country. And at a time when Philopoernen, unable to defend his fel- low-citizens, who were engaged in a dangerous war, passed over into Crete, Flaminius, having vanquished Philip in the heart of Greece, set cities and whole nations free. If we examine into their battles, it will appear, that Philopoemen, while he commanded the Achrean forces, killed more Greeks than Flaminius, in asserting the Grecian cause, killed Macedonians. As to their failings, ambition was the fault of Flaminius, and obstinacy that of Philopoemen. The former was passionate and the latter impla- cable. Flaminius left Philip in his royal dignity, and pardoned the ^Etolians; whereas Philopoernen, in his resentment against his country, robbed her of several of her dependencies. Beside, Fla- minius was always a firm .friend to those whom he had once served; but Philopoemen was ever ready to destroy the merit of his former kind- nesses, only to indulge his anger. For he had been a great benefactor to the Lacedemonians; yet afterward he demolished their walls, and rav- aged their country, and in the end entirely changed and overturned their constitution. Nay, he seems to have sacrificed his life to his passion and per- verseness, by too hastily and unseasonably in- vading Messenia, instead of taking, like Flaminius, every precaution for his own security and that of his troops. But Philopoemen's military knowledge and ex- perience were perfected by his many wars and vic- tories. And, whereas Flaminius decided his dis- pute with Philip in two engagements, Philopcemen, by conquering in an incredible number of battles, left fortune no room to question his skill. Flaminius, moreover, availed himself of the power of a great and flourishing commonwealth, and raised himself by its strength; but Philopoe- men distinguished himself at a time when his country was on the decline. So that the success of the one is to be ascribed solely to himself, and that of the other to all the Romans. The one had good troops to command, and the other made those so which he commanded. And though the great actions of Philopoemen, being performed against Grecians, do not prove him a fortunate man, yet they prove him a brave man. For, where all other things are equal, great success must be owing to superior excellence. He had to do with two of the most warlike nations among the Greeks, the Cretans, who were the most art- ful, and the Lacedemonians, who were the most valiant; and yet he mastered the former by policy, and the latter by courage. Add to this, that Fla- minius had his men ready armed and disciplined to his hand, whereas Philopffimen had the armor of his to alter, and to new-model their discipline. So that the things which contribute most to vic- tory were the invention of the one, while the other only practiced what was already in use. Accordingly, Philopoemen's personal exploits were many and great; but we find nothing of that kind remarkable in Flaminius. On the contrary, a certain ^Etolian said, by way of raillery, " While I ran, with my drawn sword, to charge the Mace- donians, who stood firm and continued fighting, Titus was standing still, with his hands lifted up toward heaven, and praying." It is true, all the acts of Flaminius were glo- rious, while h was general, and during his lieu- tenancy too: but Philopoernen showed himself no less serviceable and active among the Acbeans, when in a private capacity, than when he had the command. For, when commander-in-chief, he drove Nabis out of the city of Messene, and re- stored the inhabitants to their liberty; but he was only in a private station when he shut the gates of Sparta against the general Diophanes, and against Flaminius, and by that means saved the Lacedaemonians. Indeed, nature had given him such talents for command, that he knew not only how to govern according to the laws, but how to govern the laws themselves, when the public good required it; not waiting for the formality of the people's appointing him, but rather employing them, when the occasion demanded it. For he was persuaded, that, not he whom the people elect, but he who thinks best for the people, is the true general. There was undoubtedly something great and generous in the clemency and humanity of Fla- minius toward the Grecians; but there was some- thing still greater and more generous in the reso- lution which Philopoemen showed in maintaining the liberties of Greece against the Romans. For it is a much easier matter to be liberal to the weak, than to oppose and to support a dispute with the strong. Since, therefore, after all our inquiry into the characters of these two great men, the superiority is not obvious, perhaps we shall not greatly err, if we give the Grecian the j palm of generalship and military skill, and the ] Roman that of justice and humanity. 264 PLUTAECH'S LIVES. PYRRHUS. SOME historians write, that Photon was the first king after the deluge who reigned over the Thres- protians and Molossians, and that he was one of those who came with Pelasgus into Epirus. Others say, that Deucalion and Pyrrha, after they had built the temple of Dodona,* settled among the Molossians. In after times Neoptolemus,t the son of Achilles, taking his people with him, pos- sessed himself of the country, and left a suc- cession of kings after him, called Pyrrhida; for In his infancy he was called Pyrrhus; and he gave that name to one of his legitimate sons whom he had by Lanassa the daughter of Cleodes son of Hyllus. From that time Achilles had divine hon- ors in Epirus, being styled there Aspetos (i. e. the Inimitable). After these first kings, those that followed became entirely barbarous, and both their power and their actions sunk into the utmost obscurity. Tha/rytas is the first whom history mentions as remarkable for polishing and im- proving his cities with Grecian customs,}: with letters and good laws. Alcetas was the son of Tharrytas, Arybas of Alcetas; and of Arybas and Troias his queen was born .^Eacides. He married Phthia, the daughter of Menon the Thes- salian, who acquired great reputation in the La- mian war, and, next to Leosthenes, was the most considerable of the confederates. By Phthia, ^Eacides had two daughters named Deidamia and Troias, and a son named Pyrrhus. But the Molossians, rising against JEacides, de- posed him, and brought ia the sons of Neopto- lemus. On this occasion the friends of JEacides were taken and slain: only Androclides and An- gelus escaped with his infant son, though he was much sought after by his enemies; and carried him off with his nurses and a few necessary at- tendants. This train rendered their flight difficult and slow, so that they were soon overtaken. In this extremity they put the child in the hands of Androcleon, Hippias, and Neander, three active young men whom they could depend upon, and ordered them to make the best of their way to Megara?, a town in Macedonia; while they them- selves, partly by entreaty, and partly by force, stopped the course of the pursuers until evening; when, having with much difficulty got clear of them, they hastened to join those who carried the young prince. At sunset they thought them- selves near the summit of their hopes, but they met with a sudden disappointment. When they came to the river that runs by the town, it looked rough and dreadful; and upon trial, they found it absolutely unfordable. For the current being swelled by the late rains, was very high and bois- terous, and darkness added to the horror. They now despaired of getting the child and his nurses over, without some other assistance; when perceiv- ing some of the inhabitants of the place on the * Probably it was only a druidical kind of temple. t Between Deucalion's flood and the times of Neoptole- mus, there was a space of about three hundred and forty years. J Justin does not ascribe the civilizing of the Molossians to Tharrytas, but to Arybas, the son of Alcetas I, who had bimse.f been polished and humanized by his education at Athens. Ttis Neoptolemus was the brother of Arybas. other side, they begged of them to assist their passage, and held up Pyrrhus toward them. But though they called out loud and entreated earn- estly, the stream ran so rapidly and made such a roaring, that they could not be heard. Some time was spent, while they were crying out on one side, and listening to no purpose on the other. At last one of Pyrrhus's company thought of peeling off a piece of oak bark, and of expressing upon it with the tongue of a buckle, the neces- sities and fortunes of the child. Accordingly ha put this in execution, and having rolled the piece of bark about a stone, which was made use of to give force to the motion, he threw it on tire other side. Some say, he bound it fast to a jav- elin, and darted it over. When the people on the other side had read it, and saw there was not a moment to lose, they cut down trees, and made a raft of them, and crossed the river upon it. It happened that the first man who reached the bank, was named Achilles. He took Pyrrhus in his arms, and conveyed him over, while his com- panions performed the same service for his fol- lowers. Pyrrhus and his train, having thus got safe over, and escaped the pursuers, continued their rout, until they arrived at the court of Glauciaa king of Illyria. They found the king sitting in his palace with the queen his consort,* and laid the child at his feet in the posture of a suppliant. The king, who stood in fear of Cassander, the enemy of ^Eacides, remained a long time silent, considering what part he should act. While Pyrrhus, of his own accord creeping closer to him, took hold of his robe, and raising himself up to his knees, by this action first excited a smile, and afterward compassion; for he thought he saw a petitioner before him begging his protection with tears. Some say, it was not Glaucias, but the altar of the domestic gods which he ap- proached, and that he raised himself up by em- bracing it; from which it appeared to Glaucias that Heaven interested itself in the infant's favor. For this reason he put him immediately in the hands of the queen, and ordered her to bring him up with his own children. His enemies demand- ing him soon after, and Cassander offering two hundred talents to have him delivered up, Glau- cias refused to do it; and when he came to be twelve years old, conducted him into Epirus at the head of an army, and placed him upon the throne. Pyrrhus had an air of majesty rather terrible than august. Instead of teeth in his upper jaw he had one continued bone, marked with small lines resembling the divisions of a row of teeth, It was believed that he cured the swelling of the spleen, by sacrificing a white cock, and with his right foot gently pressing the part affected, the patients lying upon their backs for that purpose. There was no person, however poor or mean, refused this relief, if requested. He received no reward, except the cock for sacrifice, and this * Justin calls this princess Beroa, and says she was of the family of the vEacida;; which must have been the reason of their seeking refuge for Pvrrhus in that court. PYRRHUS. 265 present was very agreeable to him. It is also aaid, that the great toe of that foot had a divine virtue in it; for, after his death, when the rest of his body was consumed, that toe was found entire and untouched by the flames. But this account belongs not to the period we are upon. When he was about seventeen years of age, and seemed to be quite established in his kingdom, he happened to be called out of his own terri- tories, to attend the nuptials of one of Glaucias's sons, with whom he had been educated. On this occasion the Molossians, revolting again, drove out his friends, pillaged his treasures, and put themselves once more under Neoptolemus. Pyr- rhus having thus lost the crown, and being in want of everything, applied himself to Deme- trius, the son of Antigonus, who had married his sister Deidamin. That princess, when very young, had been promised to Alexander the son of Rox- ana (by Alexander the Great); but that family being unfortunately cut off, she was given, when she came to be marriageable, to Demetrius. In the great battle of Ipsus, where all the kings of the earth were engaged,* Pyrrhus accompanied Demetrius; and, though but young, bore down all before him, and highly distinguished himself among the combatants. Nor did he forsake Demetrius, wht-n unsuccessful, but kept for him those cities of Greece with which he was in- trusted: and when the treaty was concluded with Ptolemy, he went to Egypt as a hostage. There, both in hunting and other exercises, he gave Ptolemy proofs of his strength and indefatigable abilities. Observing that among Ptolemy's wives, Berenice was she who had the greatest power, and was most eminent for virtue and understand- ing, he attached himself most to her. For he had a particular art of making his court to the great, while he overlooked those that were below him. And as in his whole conduct he paid great at- tention to decency, temperance, and prudence, An- tigone, who was daughter to Berenice by her first husband Philip, was given him, in preference to many other young princes. On this account he was held in greater honor than ever: and Antigone proving an excellent wife, procured him men and money, which en- abled him to recover his kingdom of Epirus. At his arrival there, his subjects received him with open arms; for Neoptolemus was become obnox- ious to the people, by reason of his arbitrary and tyrannical government. Nevertheless, Pyrrhus, apprehending that Neoptolemus might have re- course to some of the other kings, came to an agreement with him, and associated him in the kingdom. But in process of time there were some who privately sowed dissension and jealous- ies between them. Pyrrhus's chief quarrel with Neoptolemus is said to have taken its rise as fol- lows: It had been a custom for the kings of Epirus to hold an assembly at Passaron, a place in the province of the Molossians; where, after sacrificing to Jupiter the warrior, mutual oaths were taken by them and their subjects. The kings were sworn to govern according to law, and ;ne people, to defend the crown according to law. Both the kings met on this occasion, attended by their friends, and after the ceremony, great pre- sents were made on all sides. Gelon. who was very cordially attached to Neoptolemus, among the rest, paid his respects to Pyrrhus, and made He says, all the kings of the earth were engaged, be- cause Lysimachus, Seleucus, Ptolemy, Cassander, Antigo- BBS, and Demetrius, were there in person. This battle was fought about three hundred years before Christ. him a present of two yoke of oxen.* Myrtilus, one of this prince's cupbearers, begged them of him; but Pyrrhus refused him, and gave them to another. Gelon perceiving that Myrtilus took the disappointment extremely ill, invited him to sup with him. After supper he solicited him to embrace the interest of Neoptolemus, and to poi- son Pyrrhus. Myrtilus seemed to listen to his suggestions with satisfaction, but discovered the whole to his master. Then, by his order, he in- troduced to Gelon, the chief cupbearer Alexicra- tes, as a person who was willing to enter into the conspiracy; for Pyrrhus was desirous to have more than one witness to so black an enterprise. Gelon being thus deceived, Neoptolernns was deceived with him; and, thinking the affair in great forwardness, could not contain himself, but in the excess of his joy mentioned it to his friends. One evening, in particular, being at supper with his sister Cadrnia, he discovered the whole design, thinking nobody else within hearing. And in- deed there was none in the room but Phaenarete the wife of Samon, chief keeper of Neoptolemus'a cattle: and she lay upon a couch with her face turned toward the wall, and seemed to be asleep She heard, however, the whole without being sus- pected, and went the next day to Antigone the wife of Pyrrhus, and related to her all that she had heard Neoptolemus say to his sister. This was immediately laid before Pyrrhus, who took no notice of it for the present. But, on occasion of a solemn sacrifice, he invited Neoptolemus to supper, and took that opportunity to kill him. For he was well assured that all the leading men in Epirus were strongly attached to him, and wanted him to remove Neoptolemus out of the way: that, no longer satisfied with a small share of the kingdom, he might possess himself of the whole: and by following his genius, rise to great attempts. And, as they had now a strong sus- picion beside, that Neoptolemus was practicing against him, they thought this was the time to prevent him by giving him the fatal blow. In acknowledgment of the obligations he had to Berenice and Ptolemy, he named his son by Antigone Ptolemy, and called the city which he built in the Chersonese of Epirus, Berenicis. From this time he began to conceive many great designs, but his first hopes laid hold of all that was near home: and he found a plausible pretense to concern himself in the affairs of Macedonia. Antipater, the eldest son of Cassander, had killed his mother Thessalonica, and expelled his brother Alexander. Alexander sent to Demetrius for suc- cor, and implored likewise the assistance of Pyr- rhus. Demetrius having many affairs upon his hands, could not presently comply: but Pyrrhus came and demanded as the reward of his services, the city of Nympha3a,t and all the maritime coast of Macedonia, together with Ambracia, Acarna- nia, and Amphilocio, which were some of the countries that did not originally belong to the kingdom of Macedon. The young prince agree- ing to the conditions, Pyrrhus possessed himself of these countries, and secured them, with his garrisons: after which, he went on conquering the rest for Alexander, and driving Antipater before him. This present was characteristical of the simplicity of ancient times. t Uacier thinks Apollonia might be called Nymphsea, from Nymphfeum, a celebrated rock in its neighborhood. Palmerius would read Tymphsea, that being the name of a town in those parts. There was a city called Nymphseum, in the Taurica Chersonesns, but that could not b here. 266 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. King Lysimachas was well inclined to give Antipater assistance, but he was so much engaged with his own affairs, that he could not find time for it Recollecting, however, that Pyrrhus would refuse nothing to his friend Ptolemy, he forged letters in Ptolemy's name, enjoining him to eva- cuate Macedonia, and to be satisfied with three hundred talents from Antipater. But Pyrrhus no sooner opened the letters than he perceived the forgery. For instead of the customary salu- tation, The father to his son, greeting, they began with King Ptolemy to King Pyrrhus, greeting. He inveighed against Lysirnaclius for the fraud, but listened, notwithstanding, to proposals of peace; and tlie three princes met to offer sacrifices on the occasion, and to swear upon the altar to the arii- cles. A boar, a bull, 'and a ram being led up as victims, the ram dropped down dead of himself. The rest of the company laughed at the accident; but Theodotus the diviner advised Pyrrhus not to swear; declaring that the Deity presignified the death of one of the kings; upon which he refused to ratify the peace. Alexander's affairs were thus advantageously settled;* nevertheless Demetrius came. But it soon appeared that became now unrequested,and that his presence excited rather fear than grati- tude. When they had been a few days together, in mutual distrust, they laid snares for each other; but Demetrius finding the first opportunity, was beforehand with Alexander, killed him, and got himself proclaimed king of Macedon. He had for a long time had subjects of com- plaint against Pyrrhus; on account of the inroads which he had made into Thessaly. Beside, that ambition to extend their dominions, which is a distemper natural to kings, rendered their neigh- borhood mutually alarming. These jealousies in- creased after the death of Deidamia. At last, each having possessed himself of part of Macedonia, and having one object in view, the gaining of the whole, this produced of course, new causes of contention. Demetrius marched against th^^Eto- lians and reduced them. After which he left Pantauchus among them with a considerable force, and went himself to seek Pyrrhus. Pyrrhus, as soon as he was apprised of his design, went to meet him; but taking a wrong route, they inad- vertently passed each other. Demetrius entered Epirus, and committed great ravages; and Pyrrhus, falling in with Pantauchus, gave him battle. The dispute was warm and obstinate on both sides, especially where the generals fought. For Pan- tauchus, who in dexterity, courage, and strength, stood foremost among the officers of Demetrius, and withal was a man of a high and ambitious spirit, challenged Pyrrhus to the combat. And Pyrrhus, who was behind none of the princes of his time in valor and renown, and who was de- sirous to appropriate to himself the honors of Achilles, rather by his sword than by kindred, advanced through the first lines against Pantau- ehus. They began with the javelin; and then coming to the sword, exhausted all that art or strength could supply. Pyrrhus received one wound, and gave his adversary two, one in the thigh, and the other in the neck; by which he overpowered him, and brought him to the ground; but could not kill him outright, because he was rescued by his friends. The Epirots, elated with their prince's victory, and admiring his valor, broke into and dispersed the Macedonian phalanx, and pursuing the fugitives, killed great numbers c/ tnem, and took five thousand prisoners. * Alexander was murdered soon after. This battle did not so much excite the resent- ment and hatred of the Macedonians against Pyrrhus for what they suffered, as it inspired them with an esteem of his abilities and admiration of his valor. This furnished subject of discourse to all those who were witnesses of his exploits, or were engaged against him in the action. For he recalled to their minds the countenance, the swiftness, and motion of Alexander the Great; in Pyrrhus they thought they saw the very image of his force and impetuosity. And while the other kings represented that hero only in their purple robes, in the number of guards, the bend of the neck, and the lofty manner of speaking, the king of Epirus represented him in deeds of arms and personal achievements. And of hia great skill in ordering and drawing up an army, we have proofs in the writing he left behind him. It is also said, that Antigonus being asked, " Who was the greatest general?" answered, "Pyrrhus would be, if he lived to be old." Antigonus, in- deed, spoke only of the generals of his time: but Hannibal said that, of all the world had ever be- held, the first in genius and skill was Pyrrhus, Scipio the second, and himself the third: as we have written in the life of Scipio.* This was the only science he applied himself to; this was the subject of his thoughts and conversation; for he considered it as a royal study, and looked upon other arts as mere trifling amusements. And it is reported that when he was asked, " Whether he thought Python or Csephisias the best musician?" " Polysperchon," said he, "is the general;" in- timating that this was the only point which it became a king to inquire into or know. In the intercourse of life he was mild and not easily provoked, but ardent and quick to repay a kindness. For this reason he was greatly afflict- ed at the death of ^Eropus. " His friend," he said, " had only paid the tribute to nature, but he blamed and reproached himself for putting off his acknowledgments until, by these delays, he had lost the opportunity of making any return. For those that owe money, can pay it to the heirs of the deceased, but when a return of kindness is not made to a person in his lifetime, it grieves the heart that has any goodness and honor in it." When some advised him to banish a certain ill- tongued Ambracian, who abused him behind hia back. " Let the fellow stay here," said he, "and speak against me to a few, rather than ramble about, and give me a bad character to all the world." And some young men having taken great liberties with his character in their cups, and being afterward brought to answer for it, he ask- ed them, "Whether they really had said such things?" "We did, Sir," answered one of them, "and should have said a great deal more, if we had had more wine." Upon which he laughed and dismissed them. After the death of Antigone, he married several wives for the purposes of interest and power: namely the daughter of Autoleon, king of the Paeonians; Bircenna, the daughter of Bardyllis, king of the Illyrians; and Lanassa, the daughter of Agathocles of Syracuse, who brought him in dowry the isle of Corcyra, which her father had taken. By Antigone he had a son named Ptolemy; by Lanassa he had Alexander; and by Bircenna, his youngest son Helenus. All these princes had naturally a turn for war, and he quickened their martial ardor by giving them a suitable education from their infancy. For* it is said, when he was * This is differently related in the life of Flaminins. There, it is said that Hannibal placed Alexander first, 1'yr rhus second, and himself the third. PYRRHUS. 267 asked by one of them, who was yet a. child, " To which of them he would leave his kingdom?" he said, " to him who has the sharpest sword." This was very like that tragical legacy of CEdipus to his sous, Tlie sword's keen point the inheritance shall part.* After the battle Pyrrhus returned home dis- tinguished with glory, and still more elevated in his sentiments. The Epirots having given him on this occasion the name of Eagle, he said, "If I am an eagle, yon have made me one; for it is upon your arms, upon your wings, that I have risen so high." Soon utter, having intelligence that Demetrius lay dangerously ill, he suddenly entered Mace- doniaf intending only an inroad to pillage the country. But lie was very near seizing the whole, and taking the kingdom without a blow. For he pushed forward as far as Edessa, without meeting with any resistance; on the contrary, many of the inhabitants repaired to his camp, and joined him. The danger awaked Demetrius, and made him act above his strength. His friends, too, and officers quickly assembled a good body of troops, and moved forward with great spirit and vigor against Pyrrhus. But as he came only with a design to plunder, he did not stand to receive them. He lost however a considerable number of men in his retreat, for the Macedonians harass- ed his rear all the way. Demetrius, though he had driven out Pyrrhus with so much ease, was far from slighting and despising him afterward. But as he meditated great things, and had determined to attempt the recovery of his paternal kingdom, with an army of a hundred thousand men, and five hundred sail of ships, he thought it not prudent either to em- broil himself with Pyrrhus, or to leave behind him so dangerous a neighbor. And as he was not at leisure to continue the war with him, he con- cluded a peace,that he might turn his arms with more security against the other kings.J The de- signs of Demetrius were soon discovered by this peace, and by the greatness of his preparations. The kings were alarmed, and sent ambassadors to Pyrrhus, with letters, expressing their astonish- ment, that he neglected his opportunity to make war upon Demetrius. They represented with how much ease he might drive him out of Mace- donia, thus engaged as he was in many trouble- some enterprises; instead of which, he waited until Demetrius had dispatched all his other affairs, and was grown so much more powerful as to be able to bring the war to his own doors; and to put him under the necessity of fighting for the altars of his gods, and the sepulchers of his ancestors in Molossia* itself: and this too, when he had just been deprived by Demetrius of the isle of Corcyra, together with his wife. For Lanassa having her complaints against Pyrrhus, for paying more at- tention to his other wives, though barbarians, than to her, had retired to Corcyra; and wanting to marry another king, invited Demelrius to receive her hand, knowing him to be more inclined to marriage than any of the neighboring princes. Accordingly he sailed to the island, married Lan- assa, and left a garrison in tlie city. The kings, at the same time that they wrote these letters to Pyrrhus, took the field themselves to harass Demetrius, who delayed his expedition, and continued his preparations. Ptolemy put to sea with a great fleet, and drew off many of the * PhenissfE Euripides, ver. 68. t In the third year of the hundred and twenty-third Olym- piad, two hundred and eighty-four years before Christ. $ Seleucus, 1'tolemy, and Lysimachus. Grecian cities. Lysimachus entered the upper Macedonia from Thrace, and ravaged the coun- try. And Pyrrhus taking up arms at the same time, marched against Beroea, expecting that De- metrius would go to meet Lysimachus, and leave the lower Macedonia unguarded: which fell out accordingly. The night before he set out, he dreamed that Alexander the Great called him, and that when he came to him, he found him sick in bed, but was received with many obliging ex- pressions of friendship, and a promise of sudden assistance. Pyrrhus said, " How can you, sir, who are sick, be able to assist me?" Alexander answered, "I will do it with my name:" and, at the same time, he mounted a Nisaean horse,* and seemed to lead the way. Pyrrhus, greatly encouraged by this vision, ad- vanced with the utmost expedition; and having traversed the intermediate countries, came before Bercea and took it. There he fixed his head-quar- ters, and reduced the other cities by his generals When Demetrius received intelligence of this, and perceived, moreover, a spirit of mutiny among the Macedonians in his camp, he was afraid to pro- ceed farther, lest, when they came in sight of a Macedonian prince, and one of an illustrious character too, they should revolt to him. He, therefore, turned back, and led them against Pyrrhus, who was a stranger, and the object of their hatred. Upon his encamping near Beroea, many inhabitants of that place mixed with his soldiers, and highly extolled Pyrrhus. They re- presented him as a man invincible in arms, of uncommon magnanimity, and one who treated those who fell into his hands with great gentle- ness and humanity. There were also some of Pyrrhus's emissaries, who, pretending themselves Macedonians, observed to Demetrius's rnen, that then was the time to get free from his cruel yoke, and to embrace the interest of Pyrrhus, who was a popular man, and who loved a soldier. After this, the greatest part of the army was in a ferment, and they cast their eyes around for Pyrrhus. It happened that he was then without his helmet; but recollecting himself, he soon put it on again, and was immediately known by his lofty plume and his crest of goat's horns.f Many of the Macedonians now ran to him, and begged him to give them the word; while others crowned them- selves with branches of oak, because they saw them worn by his men. Some had even the con- fidence to tell Demetrius, that the most prudent part he could take would be to withdraw and lay down the government. As he found the motions of the army agreeable to this sort of discourse, he was terrified and made off privately, disguised in a mean cloak and a common Macedonian hat. Pyrrhus upon this became master of the carnp without striking a blow, and was proclaimed king of Macedonia. Lysimachus made his appearance soon after, and, pretending that he had contributed equally to the flight of Demetrius, demanded his share of the kingdom. Pyrrhus, as he thought him- self not sufficiently established among the Mace- donians, but rather in a dubious situation, accept- ed the proposal; and they divided the cities and provinces between them. This partition seemed to be of service for the present, and prevented * Nissca was a province near the Caspian sea, which, Strabo tells us, was famous for its breed of horses. Tha kings of Persia used to provide themselves there. Strabo, lib.xi. t Alexander the Great is represented on his medals with such a crest. The goat, indeed, was the symbol of tb kingdom of Macedon. The Prophet Daniel uses it as inch. The original of that symbol may be found in Justin. 268 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. their going directly to war; but soon after, they found it the beginning of perpetual complaints and quarrels, instead of a perfect reconciliation. For how is. it possible that they whose ambition is uot to be terminated by seas and mountains and uninhabitable deserts, whose thirst of dominion is not to be confined by the bounds that part Europe and Asia, should, when so near each other, and joined in one lot, sit down contented, and abstain from mutual injuries ? Undoubtedly they are al- ways at war in their hearts, having the seeds of perfidy and envy there. As for the names of Peace and War, they apply them occasionally, like money, to their use, not to the purposes of jus- tice. And they act 'with much more probity when they professedly make war than when they sanctify a short truce and cessation of mutual in- juries, with the names of justice and friend- ship. Pyrrhus was a proof of this. For oppos- ing Demetrius again, when his affairs began to be a little re-established, and checking his power, which seemed to be recovering, as if it were from a great illness, he marched to the assistance of the Grecians, and went in person to Athens. He ascended into the citadel, and sacrificed to the goddess; after which he came down into the city the same day, and thus addressed the people: " I think myself happy in this testimony of the kind regard of the Athenians, and of the confidence they put in me; I advise them, however, as they tender their safety, never to admit another king withiu their walls, but to shut their gates against all that shall desire it."* Soon after this he concluded a peace with De- metrius: and yet Demetrius was no sooner passed into Asia, than Pyrrhus, at the instigation of Ly- simachus, drew off Thessaly from its allegiance, and attacked his garrisons in Greece. He found, indeed, the Macedonians better subjects in time of war than in peace, beside that he himself was more fit for action than repose. At last Deme- trius being entirely defeated in Syria, Lysima- chus, who had nothing to fear from that quarter, nor any other affairs to engage in, immediately turned his forces against Pyrrhus, who lay in quarters atEdessa. Upon his arrival he fell upon one of the king's convoys, and took it, by which he greatly distressed his troops for want of pro- visions. Beside this, he corrupted the principal Macedonians by his letters and emissaries, re- proaching them for choosing for their sovereign a stranger, whose ancestors had always been sub- ject to the Macedonians, while they expelled the friends and companions of Alexander. As the majority listened to these suggestions, Pyrrhus, fearing the event, withdrew with his Epirots and auxiliary forces, and so lost Macedonia in the same manner he had gained it. Kings, therefore, have no reason to blame the people for changing for interest, since in that they do but imitate their masters, who are patterns of treachery and perficiiousness, and who think that man most ca- pable of serving them, who pays the least regard to honesty. When Pyrrhus had thus retired into Epirus, and left Macedonia, he had a fair occasion given him by fortune to enjoy himself in quiet and to govern his own kingdom in peace. But he was persuaded, that neither to annoy others, nor to be annoyed by them was a life insufferably lan- guishing and tedious. Like Achilles, he could not endure inaction; He pined in dull repose: his heart indignant Bade the scene change to war, to wounds, and death. * The Athenians followed his advice, and drove out De- aseU'ius's garrison. His anxiety for fresh employment was relieved as follows: The Romans were then at war with the Tarentines. The latter were not able to support the dispute, and yet the bold and turbulent ha- rangues of their leading men would not suffer them to put an end to it. They resolved, there- fore, to call in Pyrrhus, and put their forces un- der his command; there being no other prince who had then so much leisure, or was so able a general. The oldest and most sensible of the citizens opposed this measure, but were over- borne by the noise and violence of the multi- tude; and when they saw this, they no longer attended the assemblies. But there was a worthy man named Meton, who, on the day that the de- cree was to be ratified, after the people had taken their seats, came into the assembly with an air of intoxication, having, like persons in that condi- tion, a withered garland upon his head, a torch in his hand, and a woman playing on the flute be- fore him. As no decorum can well be observed by a crowd of people, in a free state, some clap- ped their hands, others laughed, but nobody pre- tended to stop him. On the contrary, they called upon the woman to play, and him to come for- ward and sing. Silence being made, he said, " Men of Tarentum, ye do extremely well to suf- fer those who have a mind to it, to play and be merry, while they may: and, if you are wise, you will all now enjoy the same liberty: for you must have other business and other kind of life, when Pyrrhus once enters your city." This address made a great impression upon the Tarentines, and a whisper of assent ran through the assembly. But some fearing that they should be delivered up to the Romans, if peace were made, reproach- ed the people with so tamely suffering themselves to be made a jest of, and insulted by a drunkard; and then turning upon Meton, they thrust him out. The decree thus being confirmed, they sent ambassadors to Epirus, not only in the name of the Tarentines but of the other Greeks in Italy, with presents to Pyrrhus, and orders to tell him, " That they wanted a general of ability and char- acter. As for troops, he would find a large sup- ply of them upon the spot, from the Lucanians, the Messapians, the Samnites, and Tarentines, to the amount of twenty thousand horse, and three hundred and fifty thousand foot." These prom- ises not only elevated Pyrrhus, but raised in the Epirots a strong inclination to the war. There was then at the court of Pyrrhus, a Thessalian named Cineas, a man of sound sense, and who having been a disciple of Demosthenes, was the only orator of his time that presented his hearers with a lively image of the force and spirit of that great master. This man had devoted himself to Pyrrhus, and in all the embassies he was employed in, confirmed that saying of Euri- pides, The gates that steel exclude, resistless eloquence shall enten. This made Pyrrhus say, " That Cineas had gain- ed him more cities by his address, than he had won by his arms;" and he continued to heap hon- ors and employments upon him. Cineas now seeing Pyrrhus intent upon his preparations for Italy, took an opportunity, when he saw him at leisure, to draw him into the following conversa- tion: " The Romans have the reputation of being excellent soldiers, and have the command of ma- ny warlike nations; if it please Heaven that we conquer them, what use, sir, shall we make of our victory?" "Cineas," replied the king, "your question answers itself. When the Ro- mans are once subdued, there is no town, whether P YRRHUS. Greek or barbarian, in all the country, that Will dare oppose us; but we shall immediately be masters of all Italy, whose greatness, power, and importance no man knows better than you." Cineas, after a short pause, continued, " But after we have conquered Italy, what shall we do next, sir?" Pyrrhus not yet perceiving his drift repli- ed, " There is Sicily very near, and stretches out her arms to receive us, a fruitful and populous island, and easy to be taken. For Agathocles was no sooner gone, than faction and anarchy prevailed among her cities, and everything is kept in confusion by her turbulent demagogues." " What you say, my prince," said Cineas, " is very probable; but is the taking of Sicily to con- clude our expeditions?" " Far from it," answer- ed Pyrrhus, " for if Heaven grants us success in this, that success shall only be the prelude to greater things. Who can forbear Libya and Car- thage, then within reach? which Agathocles, even when he fled in a clandestine manner from Syra- cuse, and crossed the sea with a few ships only, had almost made himself master of. And when we have made such conquests, who can pretend to say, that any of our enemies, who are now so insolent, will think of resisting us ?" " To be sure," said Cineas, " they will not; for it is clear that so much power will enable you to recover R&acedonia, and to establish yourself uncontested sovereign of Greece. But when we have con- quered all, what are we to do then? " " Why then, my friend," said Pyrrhus, laughing, " we will take our ease, and drink and be merry." Cineas, having brought him thus far, replied, " and what hinders us from drinking and taking our ease now, when we have already those things in our hands, at which we propose to arrive through seas of blood, through infinite toils and dangers, through innumerable calamities, which we must both cause and suffer?" This discourse of Cineas gave Pyrrhus pain, but produced no reformation. He saw the cer- tain happiness which he gave up, but was notable to forego the hopes that flattered his desires. In the first place, therefore, he sent Cineas to Taren- tum with three thousand foot; from whence there arrived, soon after, a great number of gal- leys, transports, and flat-bottomed boats, on board of which he put twenty elephants, three thousand horse, twenty thousand foot, two thousand archers and five hundred slingers. Wheji all was ready, he set sail; but as soon as he was got into the midst of the Ionian sea, he was attacked by a violent wind at north, which was unusual at that season. The storm raged terribly, but by the skill and extraordinary efforts of his pilots and mariners, his ship made the Italian shor-^ with infinite labor and beyond all expectation. The rest of the fleet could not hold their course, but were dispersed far and wide. Some of the ships were quite beaten off from the coast of Italy, and driven into the Libyan and Sicilian sea: others, not being able to double the cape of Japygia, were overtaken by the night; and a great and bois- terous sea driving them upon a difficult and rocky shore, they were all in the utmost distress. The king's ship, indeed, by its size and strength, resist- ed the force of the waves, while the wind blew from the sea; but that coming about, and blowing lirectly from the shore, the ship, as she stood jyith her head against it, was in danger of opening oy the shocks she received. And yet to be driven ff ag-iiii into a tempestuous sea, while the wind continually shifted from point to point, seemed the most dreadful case of all. lu this extremity, Pyrrhus threw himself overboard, and was im- mediately followed by his friends and guards, who strove which should give him the best assistance But the darkness of the night, and the roaring and resistance of the waves which beat upon the shore, and were driven back with equal violence, rendered it extremely difficult to save him. At last, by daybreak, the wind being considerably fallen, with much trouble he got ashore, greatly weakened in body, but with a strength and firm- ness of mind which bravely combated the dis- tress. At the same time, the Messapiuns, on whose coast he was cast, ran down to give him all the succor in their power. They also met with some other of his vessels that had weathered the storm, in which were a small number of horse, not quite two thousand foot, and two ele- phants. With these Pyrrhus marched to Tarentum. When Cineas was informed of this he drew out his forces, and went to meet him. Pyrrhus, upon his arrival at Tarentum, did not choose to have recourse to compulsion at first, nor to do anything against the inclination of the inhabitants, until his ships were safe arrived, and the greatest part of his forces collected. But, after this, seeing the Tarentines, so far from being in a condition tc defend others, that they would not even defend themselves, except they were driven to it by ne- cessity; and that they sat still at home, and spent their time about the baths, or in feasting and idle talk, as expecting that he would fight for them, he shut up the places of exercise and the walks, where they used, as they sauntered along, to con- duct the war with words. He also put a stop to their unseasonable entertainments, revels, and di- versions. Instead of these, he called them to arms, and in his musters and reviews, was severe and inexorable; so that many of them quitted the place; for, being unaccustomed to be under com- mand, they called that a slavery which was not a life of pleasure. He now received intelligence that Laevinns, the Roman consul, was coming against him, with a great army, and ravaging Lucania by the way. And though the confederates were not come up, yet looking upon it as a disgrace to sit still, and see the enemy approach still nearer, he took the field with the troops he had. But first he sent a herald to the Romans, with proposals, before they came to extremities, to terminate their differences amicably with the Greeks in Italy, by taking him for the mediator and umpire. Lasvinus answered, " That the Romans neither accepted Pyrrhus as a mediator, nor feared him as an enemy." Where- upon, he marched forward, and encamped upon the plain between the cities of Pandosia and He- raclea: and having notice that the Romans were near, and lay on the other side of the river Siris, he rode up to the river to take a view of them. When he saw the order of their troops, the ap- pointment of their watches, and the regularity of their whole encampment, he was struck with ad- miration, and said to a friend who was by, " Me- gficles, the disposition of these barbarians has nothing of the barbarian in it; we shall see wLether the rest will answer it." He now be- came solicitous for the event, and determining to wait for the allies, set a guard upon the river, to oppose the Romans, if they should endeavor to pass it. The Romans, on their part, hastening to prevent the coming up of those forces which he had resolved to wait for, attempted the passage. The infantry took to the fords, and the cavalry got over wherever they could: so that the Greeks were afraid of being surrounded, and retreated to their main body. Pyrrhus, greatly concerned at this, ordered hk 270 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. foot officers to draw up the forces, and to stand to their arms; while he advanced with the horse, who were about three thousand, in hopes of find- ing the Romans yet busied in the passage, and dispersed without any order. But when he saw a great number of shields glittering above the wa- ter, and the horse preserving their ranks as they passed, he closed his own ranks and began the attack. Beside his being distinguished by the beauty and luster of his arms, which were of very curious fabric, lie performed acts of valor worthy the great reputation he had acquired. For, though he exposed his person in the hottest of the en- gagement, and charged with the greatest vigor, he was never in the least disturbed, nor lost his pre- sence of mind; but. gave his orders as coolly as if he had been out of the action, and moved to this side or that, as occasion required,, to support his men where he saw them maintaining an unequal fight Leonatus of Macedon observed an Italian horse- man very intent upon Pyrrhus, changing his post as he did, and regulating all his motions by his. Whereupon, he rode up, and said to him, " Do you see, sir, that barbarian upon the black horse with white feet; he seems to meditate some great and dreadful design. He keeps you in his eye; full of fire and spirit, he singles you out; and takes no notice of anybody else. Therefore, be on your guard against him." Pyrrhus answered, " It is impossible, Leonatus, to avoid our destiny. But neither this nor any other Italian shall have much satisfaction in engaging with me." While they were yet speaking, the Italian leveled his spear and spurred his horse against Pyrrhus. He missed the king, but ran his horse through, as Leonatus did the Italian's the same moment, so that both horses fell together. Pyrrhus was car- ried off by his friends, who gathered round him, and killed the Italian, who fought to the very last. This brave man had the command of a troop of horse; Ferenturn was the place of his birth, and his name Oplacus. This made Pyrrhus more cautious. And now, seeing his cavalry give ground, he sent his infan- try orders to advance, and formed them as soon as they came up. Then giving his robe and his arms to Megacles, one of his friends, he disguised himself in his, and proceeded to the charge. The Romans received him with great firmness, and the success of the battle remained long undecided. It is even said, that each army was broken, and gave way seven times, and rallied as often. He changed his arms very seasonably, for that saved his life; but at the same time, it had nearly ruined his affairs, and lost him the victory. Many aimed at Megacles; but the man who first wounded him and brought him to the ground, was named Dex- ous. Dexous seized his helmet and his robe, and rode up to LtEvinus, showing the spoils, and cry- ing out that he had slain Pyrrhus. The spoils having passed from rank to rank, as it were in triumph, the Roman army shouted for joy, while that of the Greeks was struck with grief and consternation. This held until Pyrrhus, apprised of what had happened, rode about the army un- covered, stretching out his hand to his soldiers, and giving them to know him by his voice. At last the Romans were worsted, chiefly by means of the elephants. For the horses, before they came near them, were frightened, and ran back with their riders; and Pyrrhus commanding his Thessalian cavalry to fall upon them while in this disorder, they wre routed with great slaughter. Dionysius writes, that near fifteen thousand Ro- mans fell hi this battle; but Hieronymus makes the number only seven thousand. On Pyrrhus'a side, Dionysius says, there were thirteen thou- sand killed; Hieronymus not quite four thousand. Among these, however, were the most valuable of his friends and officers, whose services he had made great use of, and in whom he had placed the highest confidence. Pyrrhus immediately entered the Roman camp, which he found deserted. He gained over many cities which had been in alliance with Rome, and laid waste the territories of others. Nay, he ad- vanced to within thirty-seven miles of Rome it- self. The Lucanians and the Sam ui tea joined him after the battle, and were reproved for their delay; but it was plain that he was greatly ele- vated and delighted with having defeated so pow- erful an army of Romans, with the assistance of the Tarentines only. The Romans, on this occasion, did not take the command from Lsevinus, though Caius Fabricius is reported to have said, " That the Romans were not overcome by the Epirots, but Lrevinus by Pyrrhus:" intimating that the defeat was owing to the inferiority of the general, not of his troops. Then raising new levies, filling up their legions, and talking in a lofty and menacing tone about the war, they struck Pyrrhus with amazement He thought proper, therefore, to send an embassy to them first, to try whether they were disposed to peace; being satisfied that to take the city and make an absolute conquest, was an undertaking of too much difficulty to be effected by such an army as his was at that time; whereas, if he could bring them to terms of accommodation, and con- clude a peace with them, it would be very glorious for him after such a victory. Cineas, who was sent with this commission, applied to the great men, and sent them and their wives presents in his master's name. But they all refused them; the women as well as the men declaring," That when Rome had publicly ratified a treaty with the king, they should then on their parts be ready to give him every mark of their friendship and respect." * And though Cineas made a very engaging speech to the senate, and used many arguments to induce them to close with him, yet they lent not a willing ear to his propo- sitions, notwithstanding that Pyrrhus offered to re- store without ransom the prisoners he had made in the battle, and promised to assist them in the con- quest of Italy, desiring nothing in return but their friendship for himself, and security for the Taren- tines. Some, indeed, seemed inclined to peace, urging that they had already lost a great battle, and had still a greater to expect, since Pyrrhus was joined by several nations in Italy. There was then an illustrious Roman, Appius Claudius by name, who. on account of his great age and the loss of his sight, had declined all attendance to public business. But when he heard of the em- bassy from Pyrrhus, and the report prevailed that the senate was going to vote for the peace, he could not contain himself, but ordered his servants to take him up, and carry him in his chair through the forum to the senate-house. When he was brought to the door, his sons and sons-in-law received him, and led him into the senate. A respectful silence was observed by the whole body on his appearance; and he delivered his sentiments in the following terms: "Hitherto, I have regarded my blindness as a misfortune, but now, Romans, I wish I had been as deaf as I am blind. For then I should not have heard of your shameful counsels and decrees, so ruinous to the glory o Rome. Where now are your speeches so much echoed about the world, that if Alexander th* come into Italy, when we were young, *nd your fathers in the vigor of their age, he would not now be celebrated as invincible, but either by his flight or hislall, would have added to the glory of Rome? You now show the vanity and folly of that boast, while you dread the Cha- onians and Molossians, who were ever a prey to the Macedonians, and tremble at the name of Pyrrhus, who has all his life been paying his court to one of the guards of that Alexander. At pre- sent he wanders about Italy, not so much to suc- cor the Greeks here, as to avoid his enemies at home; and he promises to procure us the empire of this country with those forces which could not enable him to* keep a small part of Macedonia. Do not expect, then, to get rid of him, by entering into alliance with him. That step will only open a door to many invaders. For who is there that Will not despise you, and think you an easy con- quest, if Pyrrhus not only escapes unpunished for his insolence, but gains the Tarentines and Sam- liites, as a reward for insulting the Romans?" Appius had no sooner done speaking, than they voted unanimously for the war, and dismissed Cineas with this answer, " That when Pyrrhus had quitted Italy, they would enter upon a treaty of friendship and alliance with him, if he desired it: but while he continued there in a hostile man- ner, they would prosecute the war against him with all their force, though he should have de- feated a thousand Laevinuses." It is said, that Cineas, while he was upon this business, took great pains to observe the manners of the Romans, and to examine into the nature of their government. And when he had learned what he desired, by conversing with their great men, he made a faithful report of all to Pyrrhus; and told him, among the rest, " That the senate appeared to him an assembly of kings; and as to the people, they were so numerous, that he was afraid he had to do with a Lernagan hydra." For the Consul had already an army on foot, twice as large as the former, and had left multitudes behind in Rome, of a proper age for enlisting, and suf- ficient to form many such armies. After this, Fabricius came ambassador to Pyr- rhus to treat about the ransom and exchange of prisoners. Fabricius, as Cineas informed Pyr- rhus, was highly valued by the Romans for his probity and martial abilities, but he was extremely poor. Pyrrhus received him with particular dis- tinction, and privately offered him gold; not for any base purpose; but he begged him to accept it as a pledge of friendship and hospitality. Fabri- cius refusing the present, Pyrrhus pressed him no farther; but the next day, wanting to surprise, him, and knowing that he had never seen an ele- phant, he ordered the biggest he had, to be armed and placed behind a curtain in the room where they were to be in conference. Accordingly, this was done, and upon a sign given, the curtain drawn; and the elephant raising his trunk over the head of Fabricius, made a horrid and frightful noise. Fabricius turned about without being in the least discomposed, and said to Pyrrhus smi- ling, "Neither your gold yesterday, nor your beast to-day, has made any impression upon me." In the evening the conversation at table turned upon many subjects, but chiefly upon Greece and the Grecian philosophers. This led Cineas to mention Epicurus,* and to give some account of the opinions of his sect concerning the gods and civil government. He said, they placed the chief Epicurus was then living. The doctrines of that philo- sopher were greatly in vogue in Rome, just before the ruin f the common vealth. P Y R R H U S . 271 happiness of man in pleasure, and avoided all con- cern in the administration of affairs as the bane of a happy life; and that they attributed to the Deity neither benevolence nor anger, but main- tained that, far removed from the cure of human affairs, he passed his time in ease and inactivity, and was totally immersed in pleasure. While he was yet speaking, Fabricius cried out, " O heavens! may Pyrrhus and the Samnites adopt these opinions as long as they are at war with the Romans!" Pyrrhus admiring the noble sentiments and prin- ciples of Fabricius, was more desirous than ever of establishing a friendship with Rome, instead of continuing the war. And taking Fabricius aside, he pressed him to mediate a peace, and then go and settle at his court, where he shoul-J be, his most intimate companion, and the chief of his generals. Fabricius answered in a low voice, ' That, sir, would be no advantage to you, for those who now honor and admire you, should they once have experience of me, would rather choose to be governed by me than you." Such was the character of Fabricius. Pyrrhus, far from being offended at this answer, or taking it like a tyrant, made his friends ac- quainted with the magnanimity of Fabricius, and intrusted the prisoners to him only, on condition that if the senate did not agree to a peace, they should be sent back, after they had embraced their relations, and celebrated the Saturnalia. After this, Fabricius being consul,* an unknown person came to his camp, with a letter from the king's physician, who offered to take off Pyrrhus by poison, and so end the war without any further hazard to the Romans, provided that they gave him a proper compensation for his services. Fa- bricius detested the man's villany, and, having brought his colleague into the same sentiments, sent dispatches to Pyrrhus without losing a mo- ment's time, to caution him against the treason. The letter ran thus: "Caius Fabricius and Quintus jEmilius, con- suls, to king Pyrrhus, health. " It appears that you judge very ill both of your friends and enemies. For you will find by this letter which was sent to us, that you are at war with men of virtue and honor, and trust knaves and villains. Nor is it out of kindness that we give you this information; but we do it, lest your death should bring a disgrace upon us, and we should seem to have put a period to the war by treachery, when we could not do it by valor." Pyrrhus having read the letter, and detected the treason, punished the physician; and, to show his gratitude to Fabricius and the Romans, he delivered up the prisoners without ransom, and sent Cineas again to negotiate a peace. The Ro- mans, unwilling to receive a favor from an enemy, or a reward for not consenting to an ill thing, did indeed receive the prisoners at his hands, but sent him an equal number of Tarentiaes and Samnites. As to peace and friendship, they would not hear any proposals about it, until Pyrrhus should have laid down his arms, drawn his forces out of Italy, and returned to Epirus in the same ships in which he came. His affairs now requiring another battle, he as- sembled his army, and marched and attacked the Romans near Asculum. The ground was very rough and uneven, and marshy also toward the river, so that it was extremely inconvenient for the cavalry, and quite prevented the elephants from acting with the infantry. For this reason * Two hundred and seventy-seven years oefoie Christ. 2/2 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ne had a groat number of men killed and wounded, and might have been entirely defeated, had not night put an end to the battle. Next day, con- triving, by an act of generalship, to engage upon even ground, where his elephants might come at the enemy, he seized in time that difficult post where they fought the day before. Then he planted a number of archers and slingers among his elephants; thickened his other ranks; and moved forward in good order, though with great force and impetuosity against the Romans. The Romans, who had not now the advantage of ground for attacking and retreating as they pleased, were obliged to fight upon the plain man to man. They hastened to break the enemy's infantry, before the elephants came up, and made prodigious efforts with their swords against the pikes; not regarding themselves or the wounds they received, but only looking where they might strike and slay. After a long dispute, however, the Romans were forced to give way; which they did first where Pyrrhus fought in person; for they could not resist the fury of his attack. Indeed, it was the force and weight of the elephants which put them quite to the rout. The Roman valor being of no use against those fierce creatures, the troops thought it wiser to give way, as to an over- whelming torrent or an earthquake, than to fall in a fruitless opposition, when they could gain no advantage, though they suffered the greatest ex- tremities. And they had not far to fly before they gained their camp. Hieronymus says the Romans lost six thousand men in the action, and Pyrrhus, according to the account in his own Commentaries, lost three thousand five hundred. Nevertheless, Dionysius does not tell us, that there were two battles at Asculurn, nor that it was clear that the Romans were defeated; but that the action lasted until sunset, and then the combatants part- ed unwillingly, Pyrrhus being wounded in the arm with a javelin, and the Samnites having plundered his baggage; and that the number of the slain, counting the loss on both sides, amount- ed to above fifteen thousand men. When they had all quitted the field, and Pyrrhus was con- gratulated on the victory, he said, "Such another victory and we are undone." For he had lost great part of the forces which he brought with him, and all his friends and officers, except a very small number. He had no others to send for, to supply their place, and he found his confederates here very cold and spiritless. Whereas the Ro- mans filled up their legions with ease and dispatch, from an inexhaustible fountain which they had at home; and their defeats were so far from dis- couraging them that indignation gave them fresh strength and ardor for the war. Amidst these difficulties, new hopes, as vain as the former, offered themselves to Pyrrhus, and enterprises which distracted him in the choice. On one side, ambassadors came from Sicily, who proposed to put Syracuse, Agrigentum, and the city of the Leontines in his hands, and desired him to drive the Carthaginians out of the island, and to free it from tyrants; and on the other side news was brought him from Greece, that Ptolemy Ceraunus was slain in battle by the Gauls, and that this would be a seasonable juncture for him to offer himself to the Macedonians, who wanted a king.* On this occasion he complained greally * Ptolemy Ceraunns was slain three years before, during the consulship of Laevinus. After him, the Macedonians had several kings in quick succession. All, therefore, that the letters could import, must be, that the Macedonians would prefer Pyrrhus to Antigonus, who at present was in possession. of fortune, for offering him two such glorious opportunities of action at once: and afflicted to think that in embracing the one he must neces- sarily give up the other, he was a long time per- plexed and. doubtful which to fix upon. At last the expedition to Sicily appearing to him the more important by reason of its nearness to Africa, he determined to go thither, and imme- diately dispatched Cineas before him, according to custom, to treat with the cities in his behalf. He placed, however, a strong garrison in Tarentum, notwithstanding the remonstrances of the people; who insisted that he should either fulfill the pur- pose he came for, by staying to assist them effec- tually in the Roman war, or, if he would be gone, to leave their city as he found it. But he gave them a severe answer, ordered them to be quiet and wait his time, and so set sail. When he arrived in Sicily, he found everything disposed agreeably to his hopes. The cities read- ily put themselves in his hands: and wherever force was necessary, nothing at first made any considerable resistance to his arms. But with thirty thousand foot, two thousand five hundred horse, and two hundred sail of ships, he advanced against the Carthaginians, drove them before him, and ruined their province. Eryx was the strong- est city in those parts, and the best provided with men for its defense; yet he resolved to take it by storm. As soon as his army was ready to give the assault, he armed himself at all points; and, advancing toward the walls, made a vow lo Her- cules of games and sacrifices in acknowledgment of the victory, if in that day's action he should distinguish himself before the Greeks in Sicily, in a manner that became his great descent and his fortunes. Then he ordered the signal to be given by sound of trumpet; and having driven the bar- barians from the walls with his missive weapons, he planted the scaling-ladders, and was himself the first that mounted. There he was attacked by a crowd of enemies, some of whom he drove back, others he pushed down from the wall on both sides: but the great- est part he slew with the sword, so that there was quite a rampart of dead bodies around him. In the meantime he himself received not the least harm, but appeared to his enemies in the awful character of some superior being; showing on this occasion, that Homer spoke with judgment and knowledge, when he represented valor as the only virtue which discovers a divine energy, and those enthusiastic transports which raise a man above himself. When the city was taken, he of- fered a magnificent sacrifice to Hercules, and ex- hibited a variety of shows and games. Of all the barbarians, those above Messena, who were called Marnertines, gave the Greeks the most trouble, and had subjected many of them to tri- bute. They were a numerous and warlike peo- ple, and thence had the appellation of Mamertines* which in the Latin tongue signifies martial. But Pyrrhus seized the collectors of the tribute, and put them to death; and having defeated the Ma- rnertines in a set battle, he destroyed many of their strongholds. The Carthaginians were now inclined topeace, and offered him both money and ships, on condi- tion that he granted them his friendship. But, having farther prospects, he made answer, that there was only one way to peace and friendship, which was, for the Carthaginians to evacuate Sicily, and make the Libyan sea the boundary between them and the Greeks. Elated with prosperity and his present strength, he thought of nothing but pur- suing the hopes which first drew him into Sicily PYRRHUS. 273 His first object now was Africa. He had ves- sels enough for his purpose, but he wanted mari- ners. And iu the collecting of them he was far from proceeding witli lenity and moderation: on the contrary he carried it to the cities with a high hand and with great rigor, seconding his orders for a supply witli force, and severely chastising those who disobeyed them. This was not the conduct which he had observed at first; for then lie was gracious and affable to an extreme, placed an entire confidence in the people, and avoided giving them the least uneasiness. By these means he had gained their hearts. But now turning from a popular prince into a tyrant, his austerity drew upon him the imputation both of ingratitude and perfidiousness. Necessity, however, obliged them to furnish him with what he demanded, though they were little disposed to it. But what chiefly alienated their affection, was his behavior to Thonon, and Sostratus, two persons of the great- est authority in Syracuse. These were the men who first invited him into Sicily, who upon his arrival immediately put their city in his hands, and who had been the principal instruments of the great things he had done in the island. Yet his suspicions would neither let him take them with him, nor leave them behind him. Sostratus took the alarm and fled. Whereupon Thonon was seized by Pyrrhus, who alleged that he was an accomplice with Sostratus, and put him to death. Then his affairs ran to ruin, not gradually and by little and little, but all at once. And the violent hatred which the cities conceived for him led some of them to join the Carthaginians, and others the Mamertines. While he thus saw nothing around him but cabals, seditions and insurrections, he received letters from the Samnites and Taren- tines, who being quite driven out of the field, and with difficulty defending themselves within their walls, begged his assistance. This afforded a hand- some pretense for his departure, without its being called a flight and an absolute giving up his af- fairs in Sicily. But the truth was, that no longer being able to hold the island, he quitted it like a shattered ship, and threw himself again into Italy. It is reported, that, as he sailed away, he looked back upon the isle, and said to those about him, "What a field we leave the Carthaginians and Ro- mans to exercise their arms in!" and his conjec- ture was soon after verified. The barbarians rose against him as he set sail; and being attacked by the Carthaginians on his passage, he lost many of his ships: with the re- mainder he gained the Italian shore. The Ma- mertines, to the number of ten thousand, had got thither before him; and, though they were afraid to come to a pitched battle, yet they attacked and harassed him in the difficult passes, and put his whole army in disorder. He lost two elephants, and a considerable part of his rear was cut in pieces. But he immediately pushed from the van to their assistance, and risked his person in the boldest manner, against men trained by long prac- tice to wai, who fought with a spirit of resent- ment. In this dispute he received a wound in the head, which forced him to retire a little out of the battle, and animated the enemy still more. One of them, therefore, who was distinguished both by his size and arms, advanced before the lines, and with a loud voice called upon him to come forth if he was alive. Pyrrhus, incensed at this, returned with his guards, and with a visage so fierce with anger and so besmeared with blood, that it was dreadful to look upon, made his way through his battalions, notwithstanding their re- monstrances. Thus rushing upon the barbarian, 18 he prevented his blow, and gave him such a stroke on the head with his sword, that, with the strength of his arm, and the excellent temper of the wea- pon, he cleaved him quite down, and in one rno- rneut the parts fell asunder. The achievement stopped the course of the barbarians, who were struck with admiration and amazement at Pyr- rhus, as at a superior being. He made the rest of his march, therefore, without disturbance, and arrived at Tarentum with twenty thousand foot and three thousand horse. Then taking with him the best troops that he found there, he advanced immediately against the Romans, who were ea camped in the country of the Samnites. The affairs of the Samnites were run to ruin, and their spirits sunk, because they had been beaten in several battles by the Romans. There remained also in their hearts some resentment against Pyrrhus, on account of his leaving them to go to Sicily, so that few of them repaired to his standard. The forces that he had, he divided into two bodies, one of which lie detached into Lucania, to keep one of the consuls* employed, and hinder him from assisting his colleague: with the other corps he marched in person against the other consul, Manius Curius, who lay safely intrenched near the city of Beneventum, and de- clined fighting, as well in expectation of the suc- cors from Lucania, as on account of his being de- terred from action by the augurs and soothsayers. Pyrrhus hastening to attack him before he could be joined by his colleague, took the choicest of his troops and the most warlike of his elephants, and pushed forward in the night to surprise hta camp. But as he had a long circuit to take, and the roads were entangled with trees and bushes, his lights failed, and numbers of his men lost their way. Thus the night escaped. At day- break he was discovered by the enemy descending from the bights, which caused no small disorder in their cayip. Manius, however, finding the sacrifices auspicious, and the time pressing, issued out of his trenches, attacked the vanguard of the enemy, and put them to flight. This spread a consternation through their whole army, so that many of them were killed, and some of the ele- phants taken. On the other hand, the success led Manius to try a pitched battle. Engaging, there- fore, in the open field, one of his wings defeated tiiat of the enemy's; but the other was borne down by the elephants, and driven back to the trenches. In this exigency he called for those troops that were left to guard the camp, who were all fresh men and well armed. These, as they de- scended from their advantageous situation, pierced the elephants with their javelins, and forced them to turn their backs; and those creatures rushing upon their own battalrons, threw them into the greatest confusion and disorder. This put the victory in the hands of the Romans, and empire together with the victory. For, by the courage exerted and the great actions performed this day, they acquired a loftiness of sentiment, and enlarge- ment of power, with the reputation of being in- vincible, which soon gained them all Italy, and Sicily a little after. Thus Pyrrhus fell from his hopes of Italy and Sicily, after he had wasted six years in these ex- | petitions. It is true he was not successful; but I amidst all his defeats he preserved his courage un- | conquerable, and was reputed to excel, iu military experience and personal prowess, all the prince.* of his time. But what he gained by his achieve- ments, he lost by vain hopes; his desire of ome- Aului Cornelius Lentulns. 274 thing absent, never suffered him effectually to persevere in a present pursuit. Hence it was that Antigonus compared him to a gamester, who makes many good throws at dice, but knows not how to make the best of his game. He returned to Epirus with eight thousand foot, and five hundred horse; but not having funds to maintain them, he sought for a war which might answer that end. And being joined by a body of Gauls, he threw himself into Macedonia, where Antigonus, the son of Demetrius, reigned at that time. His design was only to pillage and carry off booty: but having taken many citizens, and drawn over two thousand of Antigonus's men, he enlarged his views and marched against the king. Corning up with him in a narrow pass, he put his whole army in disorder. The Gauls, however, who composed Antigonus's rear, being a numerous body, made, a gallant resistance. The dispute was sharp, but at last most of them were cut in pieces; and they who had the charge of the elephants, being surrounded, delivered up both themselves and the beasts. After so great an ad- vantage, Pyrrhus, following his fortune rather than any rational plan, pushed against the Mace- donian phalanx, now struck with terror and con- fusion at their loss. And perceiving that they refused to engage with him, he stretched out his hand to their commanders and other officers, at the same time calling them all by their names; by which means he drew over the enemy's infan- try. Antigonus, therefore, was forced to fly; he persuaded, however, some of the maritime towns to remain under his government. Amidst so many instances of success, Pyrrhus, concluding that his exploit against the Gauls was far the most glorious, consecrated the most splen- did and valuable of the spoils in the temple of Minerva Itonis, with this inscription: These spoils, that Pyrrhus, on the martial plain Snatch'd from the vanjuish'd Ganl, Itonian Pallas, He consecrates to thee If from his throne Antigonus, deserted, fled, and ruin Pursued the sword of Pyrrhus, 'tis no wonder- From ^Eacns he sprung. After the battle he soon recovered the cities. When he had made himself master of JSga?, among other hardships put upon the inhabitants, he left among them a garrison draughted from those Gauls who nerved under him. The Gauls of all men are the most covetous of money; and they were no sooner put in possession of the town than they broke open the tombs of the kings who were buried there, plundered the treasures, and insolently scattered their bones. Pyrrhus passed the matter very slightly over; whether it was that the affairs lie had upon his hands obliged him to put off the inquiry, or whether he was afraid of the Gauls, and did not dare to punish thm. The conni- vance, however, was much censured by the Mace- donians. His interest was not well established among them, nor had he any good prospect of its secu- rity, when he began to entertain new visionary hopes; and, in ridicule of Antigonus, he said, " He wondered at his impudence, in not laying aside the purple, and taking the habit of a private person." About this time, Cleonymus the Spartan came to entreat him that he would march to Lucedse- mon, and he lent a willing ear to his request. Cleonymus was of the blood royal; but as he eemed to be of a violent temper and inclined to arbitrary power, he was neither loved nor trusted by the Spartans, and Areus was appointed to the throne. This was an old complaint which he had PLUTARCH'S LIVES. against the citizens in general. But to this we must add, that when advanced in years, he had married a young woman of great beauty, named Chelidonis, who was of the royal family, and daughter to Leotychides. Chelidonis entertain- ing a violent passion for Acrotatus the son of Areus, who was both young and handsome, ren- dered, the match not only uneasy but disgraceful to Cleonymus, who was miserably in love; for there was not a man in Sparta who did not know how much he was despised by his wife. These domestic misfortunes, added to his public ones provoked him to apply to Pyrrhus, who marched te Sparta with twenty-five thousand foot, two thou- sand horse, and twenty-four elephants. These great preparations made it evident at one view^ that Pyrrhus did not come to gain Sparta for Cle- onymus, but Peloponnesus for himself. He made, indeed, very different professions to the Lacedae- monians, who sent an embassy to him at Mega- lopolis: for he told them that he was only come to set free the cities which were in subjection to An- tigonus; and, what is more extraordinary, that he fully intended, if nothing happened to hinder it, to send his younger sons to Sparta, for a Lacedse- monian education, that they might, in this respect, have the advantage of all other kings and princes. With these pretenses he amused those that came to meet him on his inarch; but as soon as he se! foot in Laconia, he began to plunder and ravage it. And upon the ambassadors representing that he commenced hostilities without a previous declara- tion of war, he said, " And do we not know that you Spartans never declare beforehand what mea- sures you are going to take?" to which a Spartan, named Mandricidas, who was in company, made answer in this laconic dialect, **If thon art a god, thou wilt do us no harm, because we have done thee none; if thon art a man, perhaps we may find a better man than thee." In the meantime he moved toward Laeedsemon, and was advised by Cleonymus to give the assault immediately upon his arrival. But Pyrrhus, as we are told, fearing that his soldiers would plun- der the city if they took it by night, put him off, and said, they would proceed to the assault the next day. For he knew there were but few men within the city, and those unprepared, by reason of his sudden approach; and that Areus the king was absent, being gone to Crete to succor the Gortynians. The contemptible idea which Pyr- rhus conceived of its weakness and want of men, was the principal thing that saved the city. For supposing that he should not find the least resist- ance, he ordered his tents to be pitched, and sat quietly down; while the helots and friends of Cle- onymus busied themselves in adorning and pre- paring his house, in expectation that Pyrrhas would sup with him there that evening. Night being come, the Lacedemonians resolve- 4 in the first place, to send off their women to Crete, but they strongly opposed it: and Archkiamia en- tering the senate with a sword in her hand, com- plained of the mean opinion they entertained of the women, if they imagined they would survive the destruction of Sparta. In the next place, they determined to draw a trench parallel to the ene- my's camp, and at each end of it to sink wagons into the ground as deep as the naves of the wheels, that so being firmly fixed, they might stop the course of the elephants. As soon as the work was begun, both matrons and maids came and joined them, the former with their robes tucked up, and the latter in their under garments only, to assist the older sort of men. They advised those that were intended for the fight, to repose ihemselves, and in the meantime they undertook lo finish the third part of the trench, which they effected hefore morning. This trench was in breadth six cubits, iu depth four, ami eight hun- dred feet long, according to Pbylarchus. Hiero- nymus mak'.'s it less. At daybreak tiie enemy was in motion, where- upon the" women armed the youth, with their own hands, and gave them the trench in charge, exhort- ing them to guard it well, and representing, "How delightful it would be to conquer in the view of their country, or how glorious to expire iu the arms of their mo' hers and their wives, when they had met their deaths as became Spartans." As for Chelidonis, she retired into her own apart- ment with a rr.pe about her neck, determined to end her days by it, rather than fall into the hands of Cleonyrnup, if the city was taken. Pyrrhus now pressed forward with his infantry against the Spartans, who waited for him under a rampart of shields. But, beside that the ditch was ecarce passable, he found that there was no firm footing on the sides of it for his soldiers, because of the looseness of the fresh earth. His son Ptol- emy seeing this, fetched a compass about the trench with two thousand Gauls and a select body of Chaonians, and endeavored to open a passage on the quarter of the wagons. But these were so deep fixed and close locked, that they not only obstructed their passage, but made it difficult for the Spartans to come up and make a close defense. The Gauls were now beginning to drag out the wheels, and draw the wagons into the river, when young Acrotatus perceiving the danger, traversed the city with three hundred men, and by the ad- vantage of some hollow ways surrounded Ptolemy, not being seen until he began the attack upon his rear. Ptolemy was now forced to face about and stand upon the defensive In the confusion many of his soldiers runing foul upon each other, either tumbled into the ditch, or fell under the wagons. At last, after a long dispute and great effusion of blood, they were entirely routed. The old men and the women saw this exploit of Acrotatus: and as he returned through the city to his post, covered with blood, bold and elated with his victory, he ap- peared to the Spartan women taller and more graceful than ever, and they could not help envy- ing Chelidonis such a lover. Nay, some of the old men followed and cried out "Go, Acrotatus, and enjoy Chelidonis, and may your offspring be worthy of Sparta!" The dispute was more obstinate where Pyrrhus fought in person. Many of the Spartans distin- guished themselves in the action, and among the rest, Phillius made a glorious stand. He slew numbers that endeavored to force, a passage, and when he found himself ready to faint with the many wounds he had received, he gave up his post to one of the officers that was near him, and re- tired to die iu the midst of his own party, that the enemy might not get his body in their power. Night parted the combatants; and Pyrrhus, as he lay in his tent had this dream: he thought lie darted lightning upon Lacedcemon, which set all the city 0:i fire, and that the sight filled him with joy. The transport awaking him, he ordered his officers to jut their men under arms: and to some of his friends he related his vision, from which he assured himself that he should take the city by storm. The tiling was received with admiration and a general assent; but it did not please Lysirnachus. He said, timt as no foot is to tread on places that are struck by lightning, so the deity by this might presignify lo Pyrrhus, that the city should remain inaccessi- ble to him. Fyrrhus answered, " These visions PYRRHUS. 275 may serve aa amusements for the vulgar, but there is not anything in the world more uncertain and obscure. While, then, you have your weapons in your hands, remember, my friends, " The best of omens is the cause of Pyrrhus."* So saying, he arose, and, as soon as it was light, renewed the attack. The Lacedaemonians stood upon their defense wilh alacrity and spirit above their strength, and the women attended, supplying them with arms, giving bread and drink to such as wanted it, and taking care of the wounded. The Macedonians then attempted to fill up the ditch, bringing great quantities of materials, and throwing them upon the arms and bodies of the dead. The Lacedaemonians, on their part, re- doubled their efforts against them. But all on a sudden Pyrrhus appeared on that side of the trench, where the wagons had been planted to stop the passage, advancing at full speed toward the city. The soldiers who had the charge of that post cried out, and the women fled with loud shrieks and wailings. In the meantime Pyrrhus was pushing on, and overthrowing all that opposed him. But his horse received a wound in the belly from a Cretan arrow, ran away, and, plunging in the pains of death, threw him upon steep and slippery ground. As his friends pressed toward him in great confusion, the Spartans came boldly up, and making good use of their arrows, drove tlrem all back. Hereupon Pyrrhus put an entire stop to the action, thinking the Spartans would abate their vigor, now they were almost all wounded, and such great numbers killed. But the fortune of Sparta, whether she was satisfied with the trial she had of the unassisted valor of her sons, or whether she was willing to show her power to re- trieve the most desperate circumstances, just as the hopes of the Spartans were beginning to expire, brought to their relief, from Corinth, Aminius, the Phocean, one of Antigonus's officers, with an army of strangers; and they had no sooner entered the town, but Areus their king arrived from Crete with two thousand men more. The women now retired immediately to their houses, thinking it needless to concern themselves any farther in the war: the old men too, who, notwithstanding their age, had been forced to bear arms, were dismissed, and the new supplies put in their place. These two reinforcements to Sparta served only to animate the courage of Pyrrhus, and make him more ambitious to take the town. Finding, how- ever, that he could effect nothing, after a series of losses and ill success he quitted the siege, and be- gan to collect booty from the country, intending to pass the winter there. But fate is unavoidable. There happened at that time a strong contention at Argos, between the parties of Aristeas and Aris- tippus; and as Aristippus appeared to have a con- nection with Antigonus, Aristeas, to prevent him, called iu Pyrrhus. Pyrrhus, whose hopes grew as fast as they were cut off, who, if he met with success, only considered it as a step to greater things, and if with disappointment, endeavored to compensate it by some new advantage, would neither let his victories nor losses put a period to his disturbing both the world and himself. He began his march, therefore, immediately for Argoa. Areus, by frequent ambushes, and by possessing himself of the difficult passes, cut off many of the Gauls and Molossians who brought up his rear. In the sacrifice which Pyrrhus had offered; the liver was found without a head, and the diviner had thence forewarned him that he was in dangor * Parody of a line in Hector's peech, II. 276 of losing some person that was dear to him. But in the hurry and disorder of this unexpected attack, he forgot the menace from the victim, and ordered Iris son Ptolemy, with some of his guards, to the assistance of the rear, while he himself pushed on, and disengaged his main body from those danger- ous passages. In the meantime Ptolemy met with a very warm reception; for he was engaged by a select party of Lacedaemonians, under the command of Evalcus. In the heat of action, a Cretan of Aptera, named Orcesns, a man of re- markable strength and swiftness, came up with the young prince, as he was fighting with great gallantry, and with a blow on the side laid him dead on the spot. As soon as he fell, his party turned their backs and fled. The Lacedemonians pursued them, and in the ardor of victory, insen- sibly advancing into the open plain, got at a great distance from their infantry. Pyrrhus, who by this time had heard of the death of his son, and was greatly afflicted at it, drew out his Molossian horse, and charging at the head of them, satiated himself with the blood of the Lacedemonians. He always indeed appeared great and invincible in arms, but now, in point of courage and force, he outdid all his former exploits. Having found out Evalcus, he spurred his horse against him: but Evalcus inclining a little on one side, aimed a stroke at him which had like to have cut off' his bridle hand. It happened, however, only to cut the reins, and Pyrrhus seizing the favorable mo- ment, ran him through with his spear. Then springing from his horse, he fought on foot, and made a terrible havoc of those brave Lacedaemoni- ans who endeavored to protect the body of Eval- cus. The great loss which Sparta suffered was now owing purely to the ill-timed ambition of her leaders; for the war was at an end before the engagement. Pyrrhus, having thus sacrificed to the manes of his son, and celebrated a kind of funeral games for him, found that he had vented much of his grief iu the fury of the combat, and marched more composed to Argos. Finding that Antigonus kept the high grounds adjoining to the plain, he en- camped near the town of Nauplia. Next day he sent a herald to Antigonus, with a challenge in abusive terms to come down into the field, and fight with him for the kingdom. Antigonus said. " Time is the weapon that I use, as much as the sword; and if Pyrrhus is weary of his life, there are many ways to end it." To both the kings there came ambassadors from Argos, entreating them to retire, and so prevent that city from be- ing subjected to either, which had a friendship for them both. Antigonus agreed to the overture, and sent his son to the Argives as a hostage. Pyrrhus at the same time promised to retire, but sending no hostage, he was much suspected. Amidst these transactions, Pyrrhus was alarmed with a great and tremendous" prodigy. For the heads of the sacrifice- oxen, when severed from the bodies, were seen to thrust out their tongues, and lick up their own gore. And in Argos the priest- ess of Apollo Lyceus ran about the streets, crying out that she saw the city full of dead carcasses and blood, and an eagle joining in the fight, and then immediately vanishing. In the dead of night Pyrrhus approached the wails, and finding the gate called D'wmperes opened to him by Aristeas, lie was not discovered until his Gauls had entered and seized the market-place. But the gate not being high enough to receive the elephants, they were forced to take off their towers; and having afterward put them on ngain in li:i uar.HL, il couia not be done without noise and PLUTARCH'S LIVES. loss of time, by which means they were discovered The Argives ran into the citadel called Aspis,* and other places of defense, and sent to call iu Antigonus. But he only advanced toward the walls to watch his opportunity for action, and con- tented himself with sending in some of his prin- cipal officers and his son with considerable suc- cors. At the same time Areus arrived in the town with a thousand Cretans, and the most active of his Spartans. All these troops being joined, fell at once upon the Gauls, and put them in great dis- order. Pyrrhus entered at a place called Cylarabisrf with great noise and loud shouts, which were echoed by the Gauls; but he thought their shouts were neither full nor bold, but rather expressive of terror, and distress. He therefore advanced in great haste, pushing forward his cavalry, though they marched in danger, by reason of the drains and" sewers of which the city was full. Beside, in this nocturnal war, it was impossible either to see what was done, or to hear the orders that were given. The soldiers were scattered about, and lost their way among the narrow streets; nor could the officers rally them in that darkness, amidst such a variety of noises, and in such strait passages; so lhat both sides continued with- out doing anything, and waited for daylight. At first dawn Pyrrhus was concerned to see the Aspis full of armed men; but his concern was changed into consternation, when among the many figures in the market-place he beheld a wolf and a bull in brass, represented in act to fight. For he recalled an old oracle which had foretold, "That it was his destiny to die when he should see a wolf encountering a bull." The Argives say, these figures were erected in memory of an accident which happened among them long be- fore. They tell us, that when Danaus first enter- ed their country. as he passed through the district of Tyreatis, by the way of Pyramia, which leads to Argos, he saw a wolf fighting with a bull Danaus imagined that the wolf represented him, for being a stranger, he came to attack the na- tives, as the wolf did the bull. He therefore stayed to see the issue of the fight, and the wolf proving victorious, he offered his devotions to Apollo Lyceus, and then assaulted and took the town; Gelanor, who was then king, being de- posed by a faction. Such is the history of those figures. Pyrrhus. quite dispirited at the sight, and per- ceiving at the same time that nothing succeeded according to his hopes, thought it best to retreat. Fearing that the gates were too narrow, he sent orders to his son Helenas, who was left with the main body without the town, to demolish part of the wall, and assist the retreat, if the enemy tried to obstruct it. But the person whom he sent, mistaking the order in the hurry and tumult, and delivering it quite in a contrary sense, the young prince entered the gates with the rest of the ele- phants and the best of his troops, and marched * There was an annual feast at Argos. in honor of Juno, called H^i;<, Jniionia, and also Hrcutomlna, from the heca- tomb of oxen then offered. Among other games, this prize was proposed for the youth. In a place of considerable strength, above the theater a brazen buckler was nailed to the wall, and they were to try their strength in plucking il off. The victor was crowned with a myrtle garland, and had the buckler [in Greek jtf.vpi*-] for his pains. Hence the name of the fort. Not only the youth of Argos, but stran- gers were admitted to the contest": as appears from Pindaj. For, speaking of Diagoras of Rhodes, he says, The JJrgirie buckler knew hint. Glymp. Ode 7. t Cylarabi* was a place of exercise tea: wae of the gatei of A.tjfUi. ratttmn. PYRRHUS. 27T to assist his father. Pyrrhus was now retiring; and while the market-place afforded room both to retreat and fight, he often faced about and repulsed the assailants. But when from that broad place he came to crowd into the narrow street leading to the gate, he fell in with those who were advan- cing to his assistance. It was in vain to call out to them to fall back: there were but few that could hear him: and such as did hear, and were most disposed to obey his orders, were pushed back by those who came pouring in behind. Be- side, the largest of the elephants was fallen in the gateway on his side, and lying there and braying in a horrible manner, he stopped those who would have got out. And among the ele- phants already in the town, one named Nicon, striving to take up his master who was fallen off wounded, rushed against the party that was re- treating: and overturned both friends and ene- mies promiscuously, until he found the body. Then he took it up with his trunk, and carrying it on his two teeth, returned in great fury, and trod down all before him. When they were thus pressed and crowded together, not a man could do anything singly, but the whole multitude, like one close compacted body, rolled this way and that all together. They exchanged but few blows with the enemy either in front or rear, and the greatest harm they did was to themselves. For if any man drew his sword or leveled his pike, he could not recover the one or put up the other; the next person, therefore, whoever he happened to be, was necessarily wounded, and thus many of them fell by the hands of each other Pyrrhus, seeing the tempest rolling about him, took off the plume with which his helmet was distinguished, and gave it to one of his friends. Then trusting to the goodness of his horse, he rode in among the enemy who were harassing his rear: and it happened that he was wounded through the breast-plate with a javelin. The wound was rather slight than dangerous, but he turned against the man that gave it, who was an Argive man of no note, the son of a poor old woman. This woman, among others, looking upon the fight from the roof of a house, beheld her son thus engaged. Seized with terror at the sight, she took up a large tile with both hands, and threw it at Pyrrhus. The tile fell upon his head, and not- withstanding his helmet, crushed the lower verte- bra of his neck. Darkness, in a moment, cover- ed his eyes, his hands let go the reins, and he fell from his horse by the tomb of Licymnius.* * There is something strikingly contemptible in the fate af this ferocious warrior. What reflections may it not af- ford to those scourges of mankind, who, to extend their power ami gratify their pride, tear out the vitals of human society! How unfortunate that they do not recollect their own personal insignificance, and consider, while they are disturbing the pence of the earth, tht they are beings whom an old woman may kill with a stone! [t is impossi- ble Irere to forget the obseure fate of Charles the Twelfth, or the following verses that describe it: On what foundation stands the warrior's pride, How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide; A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, No dangers fright him, and no labors tire; O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, UnconquerM lord of pleasure and of pain: No jovs to him pacific scepters yield, War sound* the trump, lie rushes to the field. The crowd that was about him did not know him, but one Zopyrus, who served under Antigonus, and two or three others coming up, knew him and dragged him into a porch that was at hand, just as he was beginning to recover from the blow. Zopyrus had drawn his Illyrian blade to cut off his head, when Pyrrhus opened his eyes, and gave him so fierce a look, that he was struck with ter- ror. His hands trembled, and between his desire to give the stroke, and the confusion he was in, he missed his neck, but wounded him in the mouth and chin, so that it was a long time before he could separate the head from tb* body. By this time the thing was generally known, and Alcyoneus, the son of Antigonus- came has- tily up, and asked for the head, as if he wanted only to look upon it. But as soon as he had got it, he rode off with it to his father, and cast it at his feet, as he was sitting with his friends. An- tigonus, looking upon the head, and knowing it, thrust his son from him; and struck him with his staff, calling him an impious and barbarous wretch. Then puling his robe before his eyes, he wept in remembrance of the fate of his grandfather An- tigonus,* and that of his father Demetrius, two instances in his own house of the mutability of fortune. As for the head and body of Pyrrhus, he ordered them to be laid in magnificent attire on the funeral pile, and burned. After this, Alcyo- neus, having met with Helenus in great distress and a mean garb, addressed him in a courteous man- ner, and conducted him to his father, who thus expressed himself on the occasion: "In this, my son, you have acted much better than before; but still you are deficient; for you should have taken off that mean habit, which is a greater disgrace to us who are victorious, than it is to the van- quished." Then he paid his respects to Helenus in a very obliging manner, and sent him to Ephirus with a proper equipage. He gave also the same kind re- ception to the friends of Pyrrhus, after he had made himself master of his whole camp and arrny. Behold surrounding kings their power combine, And one capitulate, and one resign. Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain, " Think nothing gained," he cries, " till naught remain, On Moscow's walls, till Gothic standards fly, And all he mine beneath the polar sky." The march begins in military state. And nations on his eye suspended wait. Stern famine guards the solitary coast, And winter barricades the realm of frost. He comes not want and cold his course delay. Hide, blushing Glory, hide Pultowa's day! The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands, And shows his miseries in distant lands. Condernn'd a needy suppliant to wait, While ladies interpose, and slaves debate. But did not Chance at length her error mend? Did no subverted empire mark his end? Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound? Or hostile millions press him to the ground? His fall was destin'd to a barren strand, A petty fortress, and a dubious hand. He left the name at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale! Johns**. * Antigonus the First was killed at the battle of fpa&f, and Demetrius the First long kept a prisoner by his *oa- in-law fcjeleueus. S78 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. CAIUS MARIUS. WF know no third name of Caius Marius, any more than we do of Quinctus Sertorius, who held Spain so long, or of Lucius Mummius, who look Corinth. For the surname of Achaicus, Mummius gained by his conquest, as Scipio did that of Africanus, and Metellus that of Macedorti- cus. Posidonius avails himself chiefly of this ar- gument to confute those who hold the third to be the Roman proper name, Camillus; for instance, Marcel! us, Cato: for iu that case, those who had only two names, would have had no proper name at all. But he did not consider that by this rea- soning, he robbed the women of their names; for no woman bears the first, which Posidonius sup- posed the proper name among' the Romans. Of the other names, one was common to the whole family, as the Pompeii, Manlii, Cornelii, in the same manner as with us, the Heraclidae and Pelo- pidas; and the other was a surname given them from something remarkable in their dispositions, their actions, or the form of their bodies, as Mac- rinus, Torquatus, Sylla, which are like Mnemon, Grypus, and Callinicus," among the Greeks. But the diversity of customs in this respect, leaves much room for farther inquiry.* As to the figure of Marius, we have seen at Ravenna in Gaul his statue in marble, which per- fectly expressed all that has been said of his sternness and austerity of behavior. For being naturally robust and warlike, and more acquainted with the discipline of the camp than the city, he was fierce and untractable when in authority. It is said that he neither learned to read Greek, nor would make use of that language on any serious occasion, thinking it ridiculous to bestow time on learning the language of a conquered people. And when, after his second triumph, at the dedica- tion of a temple, he exhibited shows to the people in the Grecian manner, he barely entered the thea- ter and sat down, and then rose up and departed immediately. Therefore, as Plato used to say to Xenocrates the philosopher, who had a morose * The Romans had usually three names, the Prwnomen, the Nomen, and the Cognomen. The Pranomcn, as Aulus, Cains, Decimus, was the proper or distinguishing name between brothers, during the time of the republic. The Nomcn was the family name, answering to the Gre- cian patronymics. For, as among the Greeks, the posterity of ^Eacus were called ^Eacida, so the Julian family hail that name from lulns or Ascanius. But there were several other things which gave rise to the JVornen, as animals, places, and accidents: for instance, Porcius, Ovilius, &c. The Cognomen was originally intended to distinguish the several branches of a family, "it was assumed from no cer- tain cause, but generally from some particular occurrence. It became, however, hereditary, except it happened to be changed for a more honorable appellation, as Macedonicns, Africanus. But it should be well remarked, that, under the emperors, the Cognomen was often used as a proper name, and brothers were distinguished by it, as Titus Flavius Vespasianus, and Titus Flavius Sabinns. As to women, they had anciently their Pranomcn, as well as the men, such as Caia, Lucia, &c. But afterward, they seldom used any other beside the family name, as Julia, Tullia, and the like. Where there were two sisters in a house, the distinguishing appellations were major and minor; if a greater number, Prima, Secunda, Tertia, &c. With respect to the men who had only two names, a family might be so mean as not to have gained the Cogno- men; or there migi.t be so few of the family, that there was no occasion for it to distinguish the branches. and unpolished manner, "Good Xenocrates, sacri- fice to the Graces;" so if any one could have per- suaded Marius to pay his court to the Grecian Muses and Graces, he had never brought his noble achievements, both in war and peace, to so shock- ing a conclusion; he had never been led, by un- seasonable ambition and insatiable avarice, to split upon the rocks of a savage and cruel old age. But this will soon appear from his actions them- selves. His parents were obscure and indigent people, who supported themselves by labor; his father's name was the same with his; his mother was call- ed Fulcinia. It was late before he came to Rome, or had any taste of the refinements of the city. In the meantime he lived at CimEatum,* a village in the territory of Arpinum: and his manner of living there was perfectly rustic, if compared with the elegance of polished life, but at the same time it was temperate, and much resembled that of the ancient Romans. He made his first campaign against the Celtibe- rians,f when Scipio Africanus besieged Numan- tia. It did not escape his general how far he was above the other young soldiers in courage; nor how easily he came into the reformation in point of diet, which Scipio introduced into the army; before almost ruined by luxury and pleasure. It is said also, that he encountered and killed an enemy in the sight of his general: who therefore distinguished him with many marks of honor and respect, one of which was the inviting him to his table. One evening the conversation happen- ed to turn upon the great commanders then in be- ing, some person in the company, either out of complaisance to Scipio, or because he really wanted to be informed, asked, "Where the Ro- mans should find such another general when he was gone?" upon which Scipio, putting his hand on the shoulder of Marins, who sat next him, said, " Here, perhaps." So happy was the genius of both those great men, that the one, while but a youth, gave tokens of his future abilities, and the other from those beginnings could discover the long series of glory which was to follow. This saying of Scipio's, we are told, raised the hopes of Marius, like a divine oracle, and was the chief thing that animated him to apply himself to affairs of state. By the assistance of Cseciliua Metellus, on whose house he had an hereditary dependence, he was chosen a tribune of the peo- ple.J In this office he proposed a law for regulat- ing the manner of voting, which tended to lessen the authority of the patricians in matters of judi- cature. Cotta the consul, therefore, persuaded the senate to reject it, and to cite Marius to give ac- count of his conduct. Such a decree being made, Marius, when he entered the senate, showed not the embarrassment of a young man advanced to * A corrnption of Ccrnetttm. Pliny tells ns, the inhabit ants of Cernetum were called Mariani, undoubtedly from Marins their townsman, who had distinguished himself 19 so extraordinary a manner. Plin. lib. iii,c. 5. t In the third year of the hundred and sixty-first Olym piad, one hundred and thirty-three years before the birth O Christ. J One hundred and seventeen years before ChmU CAIUS MARIUS. 279 office, without having first distinguished himself, but assuming beforehand the elevation which his future actions were to give him, he threatened to tend Cotta to prison, if he did not revoke the de- cree. Cotta turning to Metellus, and asking his opinion, Metellus rose up and voted with the con- sul. Hereupon Marius called in a lictor, and or- dered him to take Metellus into custody. Metel- lus appealed to the other tribunes, but as not one of them lent him any assistance, the senate gave Way, and repealed their decree. Marius, highly distinguished by this victory, went immediately from the senate to the Jorum, and had his law con- firmed by the people. From this time he passed for a man of inflexi- ble resolution, not to be influenced by fear or re- spect of persons, and consequently one that would prove a bold defender of the people's privileges against the senate. But this opinion was soon altered by his taking quite a different part. For a law being proposed concerning the distribution of corn, he strenuously opposed the plebeians, and carried it against them. By which action he gained equal esteem from both parties, as a person incapable of serving either, against the public ad- van tage. When his trihuneship was expired, he stood candidate for the office of chief aedile. For there are two offices of addes; the one called curulis, from the chair with crooked feet, in which the magistrate sits while he dispatches business; the other, of a degree much inferior, is called the olebeian <edile The more honorable aediles are first chosen, and then the people proceed the same day to the election of the other. When Marius found he could not carry the first, he dropped his pretensions there, and immediately applied foi the second. But as this proceeding of his betrayed a disagreeable ud importunate obstinacy, he mis- carried in that also. Yet though he was twice baffled in his application in one day (which nei&r happened to any man but himself), he was not at all discouraged. For, not long after, he stood for the praetorship, and was near being rejected again. He was, indeed, returned last of all, and then was accused of bribery. What contributed most to the suspicion, was, a servant of Cassius Sabuco being seen between the rails, among the electors; for Sabuco was an intimate friend of Marius. tie was summoned, therefore, by the judges; and, being interrogated upon the point, he said; "That the heat having made him very thirsty, he asked for cold water; upon which his servant brought him a cup, and withdrew as soon as he had drank." Sabaco was expelled the sen- ate by the next censors,* and it was thought he deserved that mark of infamy, as having been guilty either of falsehood or intemperance. Caius Herenuius was also cited as a witness against Marius; but he alleged, that it was not customa- ry for patrons (so Uie Romans call protectors) to give evidence against their clients, and that the law excused them from that obligation. The judges were going to admit the plea, when Ma- rine himself opposed it, and told Herennius that when he was tirst created a magistrate, he ceas- ed to> be his client. But this was not altogether true. For it is not every office that frees clients and their posterity from the service due to their patrons, but only those magistracies to which the law gives a curuic chair. Marius, however, dur- ing tiie first days of trial, found that matters ran against him, his judges being very unfavorable; Probably he had one of his slaves to vote among the tftvinen. yet, at last, the votes proved equal, and he was acquitted beyond expectation. In his prcetorship he did nothing to raise him to distinction. But, at the expiration of this office, the Farther Spain falling to his lot, he is said to have cleared it of robbers. That province as yet was uncivilized and savage in its manners, and the Spaniards thought there was nothing dishon- orable in robbery. At his return to Rome, he was desirous to have his share in the administra- tion, but had neither riches nor eloquence to re- commend him; though these were the instruments by which the great men of those times governed the people. His high spirit, however, his indefatiga- ble industry, and plain manner of living, recom- mended him so effectually to the commonalty, that he gained offices, and by offices power: so that he was thought worthy the alliance of the Caesars, and married Julia of that illustrious fam- ily. Caesar, who afterward raised himself to such eminence, was her nephew; and on account of his relation to Marius, showed himself very soli- citous for his honor, as we have related in his life. Marius, along with his temperance, was poss- essed of great fortitude in enduring pain. There was an extraordinary proof of this, in his bearing an operation of surgery. Having both his legs full of wens, and being troubled at the deformity, he determined to put himself in the hands of a surgeon. He would not be bound, but stretched out one of his legs to the knife; and without mo- tion or groan, bore the inexpressible pain of the operation in silence and with a settled counte- nance. But when the surgeon was going to begiu with the other leg, he would not suffer him, say- ing, " I see the cure is not worth the pain." About this time Cfflcilius Metellus the consul,* being appointed to the chief command in the war against Jugurtha, took Marius with him into Afri- ca as one of his lieutenants. Marius, now find- ing an opportunity for great actions and glorious toils, took no care, like his colleagues, to contrib- ute to the reputation of Metellus, or to direct his views to his service; but concluding that he was called to the lieutenancy, not by Metellus but by Fortune, who had opened him an easy way and a noble theater for great achievements, exerted all his powers. That war presenting many critical occasions, he neither declined the most difficult service, nor thought the most servile beneath him. Thus surpassing his equals in prudence and fore- sight, and contesting it with the common soldiers in abstemiousness and labor, he entirely gained their affections. For it is no small consolation to any one who is obliged to work, to see another voluntarily take a share in his labor; since it seems to take off the constraint. There is not, indeed, a more agreeable spectacle to a Roman soldier, than that of his general eating the same dry bread which he eats, or lying on an ordinary bed, or assisting his men in drawing a trench or throwing up a bulwark. For the soldier does not so much admire those officers who let him share in their honor or their money, as those who will partake with him in labor or danger; and he is more attached to one that will assist him in his work, than to one who will indulge him in idleness. By these steps Marius gained the hearts of the soldiers; his glory, his influence, his reputation, * Q,. Cacilius Metellns was consul with M. Junins Sila- nus, the fourth year of the one hundred and sixty-seventh Olympiad, a hundred and seven years before the birth of Christ. In this expedition, he acquired the surname of Numidicus. 280 PLUTARCH'S LIVES spread through Africa, and extended even to Rome: the men under his command wrote to their friends at home, that the only means of put- ting an end to the war in those parts, would be to elect Marius consul. This occasioned no small anxiety to Metellus, but what distressed him most was the affair of Turpilius. This man and his family had long- been retainers to that of Metel- lus, and he attended him in that war in the char- acter of master of the artificers, but being, through his interest, appointed governor of ttie large town of Vaca, his humanity to the inhabit- ants and the unsuspecting openness of his con- duct, gave them an opportunity of delivering up the place to Jugurtha.* Turpilius, however, suf- fered no injury in his person; for the inhabitants, having prevailed upon Jugurtha to spare him, dismissed him in safety. On this account he was accused of betraying the place. Marius, who was one of the council of war, was not only severe upon him himself, but stirrred up most of the other judges; so that it was carried against the opinion of Metellus, and much against his will he passed sentence of death upon him. A little after, the accusation appeared a false one; and all the other officers sympathized with Me- tellus, who was overwhelmed with sorrow, while Marius, far from dissembling his joy, declared the thing was his doing, and was not ashamed to acknowledge in all companies, " That he had lodged an avenging fury in the breast of Metellus, who would not fail to punish him for having put to death the hereditary friend of his family." They now became open enemies; and one day when Marius was by, we are told, that Metellus said by way of insult, " You think then, my good friend, to leave us, and go home, to solicit the consulship: would you not be contented to btay and be consul with this son of mine?" The son of Metellus was then very young. Notwith- standing this, Marius still kept applying for leave to be gone, and Metellus found out new pre- tenses for delay. At last, when there wanted only twelve days to the election, he dismissed him. Mariua had a long journey from the camp to Utica, but he dispatched it in two days and a night. At his arrival on the coast he offered sac- rifice before he embarked; and the diviner is said to have told him, "That Heaven announces suc- cess superior to all his hopes." Elevated with this promise, he set sail, and, having a fair wind, crossed the sea in four days. The people imme- diately expressed their inclination for him; and being introduced by one of their tribunes, he brought many false charges against Metellus, in order to secure the consulship for himself; promising at the same time either to kill Jugur- tha or to take him alive. He was elected with great applause, and imme- diately began his levies, in which he observed neither luw nor custom; for he enlisted many needy persons, and even slaves.f The generals that were before him, had not admitted such as these, but intrusted only persons of property with arms as with other honors, considering that pro- perty as a pledge to the public for their behavior. Nor was this the only obnoxious thing in Marius. His bold speeches, accompanied with insolence and ill manners, gave the patricians great uneasi- ness. For he scrupled not to say, "That he had taken the consulate as a prey from the effeminacy * They put the Roman garrison to the sword, sparin none but Turpilius. t ]f lorus does not say he enlisted slaves, but capite centos, such as having no estates, had only their names entered in he registers. of the high-born and the rich, and that he boasted to the people of his own wounds, not the images of others, or monuments of the dead." He took frequent occasion, too, to mention Bestia and Albinus, generals who had been mostly unfor- tunate in Africa, as men of illustrious families* but unfit for war, and consequently unsuccessful through want of capacity. Then he would auk the people, " Whether they did not think that the ancestors of those men would have wished rathei to leave a posterity like him; since they them- selves did not rise to glory by their high birth, but by their virtue and great actions?" These things he said not out of mere vanity and arrogance or needlessly to embroil himself with the nobility; but he saw the people took pleasure in seeing the senate insulted, and that they measured the great- ness of a man's mind by the insolence of his lan- guage; and therefore to gratify them, he spared not the greatest men in the state. Upon his arrival in Africa, Metellus was quite overcome with grief and resentment, to think that when he had in a manner finished the war, and there remained nothing to take but the person of Jugurtha, Marius, who had raised himself merely by his ingratitude toward him, should come to snatch away both his victory and triumph.. Unable, therefore, to bear the sight of him, he retired, and left his lieutenant Rutilius to deliver up the forces to Marius. But before the end of the war the divine vengeance overtook Mariusk For Sylla robbed him of the glory of his exploits, as he had done Metellus. 1 shall briefly relate here the manner of that transaction, having al- ready given a more particular account of it in the life of Sylla. Bocchus, king of the upper Numidia, was father- in-law to Jugurtha. He gave him, however, very little assistance in the war, pretending that he detested his perfidiousness, while he really dreaded the increase of his power. But when he became a fugitive and a wanderer, and was reduced to the necessity of applying to Bocchus as his last re- source, that prince received him rather as a sup- pliant than as his son-in-law. When lie had him in his hands he proceeded in public to intercede with Marius in his behalf, alleging in his letters, that he would never give him up, but defend him to the last. At the same time in private intending to betray him, he sent for Lucius Sylla, who was quaestor to Marius, and had done Bocchus many services during the war. When Sylla was come to him, confiding in his honor, the barbarian be- gan to repent, and often changed his mind, de- liberating for some days whether he should deliver up Jugurtha or retain Sylla too. At last, adher- ing to the treachery he had first conceived, he pul Jugurtha, alive, into the hands of Sylla. Hence the first seeds of that violent and im- placable quarrel, which almost mined the Roman empire. For many, out of envy to Marius, were willing to attribute this success to Sylla only; and Sylla himself caused a seal to be made, which re- presented Bocchus delivering up Jugurtha to him. This seal he always wore, and constantly sealed his letters with it. by which lie highly provoked Marius, who was naturally ambitious, and tiould not endure a rival in glory. Sylla was instigated to this by the enemies of Marius, who ascribed the beginning and the most considerable actions of the war to Metellus, and the last and finishing stroke to Sylla: that so the people might no longer admire and remain attached to Marius, as the most accomplished of commanders. The danger, however, that t-.pproached Italy from the west, soon dispersed all the envy, th CAIUS MARIUS. 281 hatred, and the calumnies, which had been raised against Marius. The people now in want of an experienced commander, and searching for an able pilot to sit at the helm, that the common- wealth might bear up against so dreadful a storm, found that no one of an opulent or noble family would stand for the consulship; and therefore they elected Marius,* though absent. They had no sooner received the news that Jugurtha was taken, than reports were spread of an invasion from the Teutones and the Cimbri. And though the ac- count of the number and strength of their armies seemed at first incredible, it afterward appeared short of the truth. For three hundred thousand well-armed warriors were upon the march, and the women and children, whom they had along with them, were said to be much more numerous. This vast multitude wanted lands on which they might subsist, and cities wherein to settle; as they hud heard the Cellar, before them, had expelled the Tuscans, and possessed themselves of the best part of Italy. f As for these, who now hovered like a cloud over Gaul and Italy, it was not known who they were,i or whence they came, on account of the small commerce which they had with the rest of the world, and the length of way they had marched. It was conjectured, in- deed, from the largeness of their stature, and the blueness of their eyes, as well as because the Ger- mans call banditti cimbri, that they were some of those Grrman nations who dwell by the Northern Sea. Some assert, that the country of the Celtae is of such vast extent, that it stretches from the Western ocean and most northern climes, to the lake Ma3otis eastward, and that part of Scythia which borders upon Pontus: that there the two nations mingle, and thence issue; not all at once, nor at all seasons, but in the spring of every year: that, by means of these annual supplies, they had gradually opened themselves a way over the greatest part of the European continent; and that, though they are distinguished by different names according to their tribes, yet their whole body is comprehended under the general name of Celto- Scythae. Others say, they were a small part of the Cim- merians, well known to the ancient Greeks; and that this small part quitting their native soil, or being expelled by the Scythians on account of some sedition, passed from the Pal us Moeotis into Asia, under the conduct of JLygdamis their chief. But that the greater and more warlike part dwelt in the extremities of the earth near the Northern sea. These inhabit a country so dark and woody that the sun is seldom seen, by reason of the many high and spreading trees, which reach inward as far as the Hercynian forest. They are under that part of the heavens, where the elevation of the pole is such, that by reason of the declination of the parallels, it makes almost a vertical point to the inhabitants; and their day and night are of such a length, that they serve to divide the year into two equal parts; which gave occasion to the fiction of Homer concerning the infernal regions. One hundred and two years before Christ. t Ir. the reign of Tarqninins Prisons. t The Cimbri were descended from the ancient Gomeri- BKS or Celts; Cimri or Cimbri being only a harsher pronun- ciation of Gomerai. They were in all probability the most incient people of Germany. They gave their name to the Vimbrica Chersonesus, which was 'a kind of peninsula ex- rending from the mouth of the Elbe into the north sea. They were all supposed the same with the Cimmerians -hat inhabited the countries about the I'alus Mteotis: which is highly probable, both from the likeness of their names, and from the descendants of Gomer having spread them- wives over all that northern tract. Hence, therefore, these barbarians, who came into Italy, first issued; being anciently called Cimmerii, afterward Cimbri; and the appellation was not at all from their manners. But these things rest rather on conjecture than historical certainty. Most historians, however, agree, that their numbers, instead of being less, were rather greater than we have related. As to their courage, their spirit, and the force and vivacity with which they made an impression, we may compare them to a devouring flame. Nothing could resist their impetuosity; all that came in their way, were trodden down, or driven before them liko cattle. Many respectable armies and generals* employed by the Romans to guard the Trans-alpine Gaul, were shamefully routed; and the feeble resistance they made to the first efforts of the barbarians, was the chief thing that drew them toward Rome. For, having beaten all they met, and loaded them- selves with plunder, they determined to settle no- where, until they had destroyed Rome, and laid waste all Italy. The Romans, alarmed from all quarters with this news, called Marius to the command, and elected him a second time consul. It was, indeed, unconstitutional for any one to be chosen who was absent, or who had not waited the regular time between a first and second consulship; but the people overruled all that was said against him. They considered, that this was not the first in- stance in which the law had given way to the public utility; nor was the present occasion less urgent than that, when, contrary to law,f they made Scipio consul ; for then they were not anxious for the safety of their own city, but only desirous of destroying Carthage. These reasons prevailing, Marius returned with his army from Africa, and entering upon his consulship on the first of January, which the Romans reckon the beginning of their year, led up his triumph the same day. Jugurtha, now a captive, was a spec- tacle as agreeable to the Romans, as it was beyond their expectation; no one having ever imagined that the war could be brought to a period while he was alive: so various was the character of that man, that he knew how to accommodate himself to all sorts of fortune, and through all hissubtilty there ran a vein of courage and spirit. It is said, that when he was led before the car of the con- queror, he lost his senses. After the triumph he was thrown into prison, where, while they were in haste to strip him, some tore his robe off his back, and others catching eagerly at his pendants, pulled off the tips of his ears with them. When he was thrust down naked into the dungeon, all wild and confused, he said with a frantic smile, "Heavens! how cold is this bath of yours!" There struggling for six days, with extreme hun- ger, and to the last hour laboring for the preserva- tion^of life, he came to such an end as his crimes deserved. There were carried (we are told) in this triumph, three thousand and seven pounds of gold, five thousand seven hundred and seventy- five of silver bullion, and of silver coin seventeen thousand and twenty-eight drachmas. After the solemnity was over, Marius assembled the senate in the Capitol, where, either through inadvertency or gross insolence, he entered in his triumphal robe: but soon perceiving that the senate was offended, he went and put on his ordi- nary habit, and then returned to his place. * Cassius, Longinus, Aurelius, Scaurus, Cpio, and Cn Malleius. t Scipio was elected consul before he was thirty yeart old, though the common ape required in tho candidate* wa forty-two. Indeed, the people dispensed with it ; " "' instances beside this. 282 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. When he set out with the army, he trained his soldiers to labor while upon the road, accustom- ing them to long and tedious marches, and com- pelling every man to carry Kis own baggage, and provide his own victuals. So that afterward labo- rious people, who executed readily and without murmuring whatever they were ordered, were called Marius^s mules. Some, indeed, give an- other reason for this proverbial saying. They say, that when Scipio besieged Numantia, he chose to inspect, not only the arms and horses, but the very mules and wagons, that all might be in readiness and good order; on which occasion Marius brought forth his horse in fine condition, and his mule too in better case, and stronger and gentler than those of others. The general, much pleased with Mariue's beasts, often made mention of them; and hence those, who, by way of rail- lery, praised a drudging patient man, called him Marius's mule. On this occasion, it was a very fortunate cir- cumstance for Marius, that the barbarians, turning their course like a reflux of the tide, first invaded Spain. For this gave him time to strengthen his men by exercise, and to raise and confirm their courage; and what was still of greater importance to show ihem what he himself was. His severe behavior, and inflexibility in punishing, when it had once accustomed them to mind their conduct and be obedient, appeared both just and salutary. When they were a little used to his hot and vio- lent spirit, to the harsh tone of his voice, and the fierceness of his countenance, they no longer con- sidered him as terrible to themselves, out to the enemy. Above all, the soldiers were charmed with his integrity in judging; and this contributed not a little to procure Marius a third consulate. Beside, the barbarians were expected in the spring and the people were not willing to meet them under an) 7 other general. They did not, however, come so soon as they were looked for, and the year expired without his getting a sight of them. The time of a new election coming on, and his colleague being dead, Marius left the command of the army to Manius Aquilius, and went himself to Rome. Several persons of great merit stood for the consu- late: but Lucius Saturninus, a tribune who led the people, being gained by Marius, in all his speeches exhorted them to choose him consul. Marius, for his part, desired to be excused, pretending that he did not want the office: whereupon Satur- ninus called him a traitor to his country, who de- serted the command in such time of danger. It was not difficult to perceive that Marius dissem- bled, and that the tribune acted a bungling part, under him; yet the people considering that the present juncture required both his capacity and good fortune, created him consul a fourth time, and appointed Lutatius Catulus his colleague, a man much esteemed by the patricians, and not unacceptable to the commons. Marius, being informed of the enemy's approach, passed the Alps with the utmost expedition; and having marked out his camp by the river Rhone, fortified it, and brought into it a large supply of provisions: that the want of necessaries might never compel him to fight at a disadvantage. But as the carriage of provisions by sea was tedious and very expensive, he found a way to make it easy and very expeditious. The mouth of the Rhone was at that time choked up with mud and sand, which the heating of the sea had lodged there; so that it was very dangerous, if not im- practicable, for vessels of burden to enter it. Ma- rius, therefore, set his army, now quite at leisure, to work there; and having caused a cut to be made capable of receiving large ships, he turned a great part of the river into it; thus drawing it to a coast, where the opening to the sea is easy and secure This cut still retains his name. The barbarians dividing themselves into two bo- dies, it fell to the lot of the Cimbri to march the upper way through Noricum against Catulus, and to force that pass; while the Teutones and Am- brones took the road through Liguria along the sea coast, in order to reach Marius. The C : mbri spent some time in preparing for their inarch: but the Teutones and Ambrones set out immediately, and pushed forward with great expedition; uo that they soon traversed the intermediate country, and presented to the view of the Romans an incredible number of enemies, terrible in their aspect, and in their voice and shouts of war different from all other men. They spread themselves over a vast extent of ground near Marius, and when they had encamped, they challenged him to battle. The consul, for his part, regarded them not, but kept his soldiers within the trenches, rebuking the vanity and rashness of those who wanted to be in action, and calling them traitors to their country. He told them, "Their ambition should not now be for triumphs and trophies, but to dispel the dread- ful storm that hung over them, and to save Italy from destruction." These things he said privately to his chief officers and men of the first rank. As for the common soldiers, he made them mount guard by turns' upon the ramparts, to accustom them to bear the dreadful looks of the enemy, and to hear their savage voices without fear, as well as to make them acquainted with their arms, and their way of using them. By these means, what at first was terrible, by being often looked upon, would in time become unaffecting For he concluded, that with regard to objects of terror, novelty adds many unreal circumstances, and that things really dreadful lose their effect by familiar- ity. Indeed, the daily sight of the barbarians not only lessened the fears of the soldiers, but the menacing behavior and intolerable vanity of the enemy, provoked their resentment, and inflam- ed their courage. For they not only plundered and ruined the adjacent country, but advanced to the very trenches with the greatest insolence and contempt. Marius at last was told, that the soldiers vented their grief in such complaints as these: "What effeminacy has Marius discovered in us, that ho thus keeps us locked up, like so many women, and restrains us from fighting? Come 01*; let us with the spirit of freemen, ask him if he waits for others to fight for the liberties of Rome, and intends to make use of us only as the vilest laborers, in digging trenches, in carrying out loads of dirt, and turning the course of rivers? It is for such noble works as these, no doubt, that he exercises us in such painful labors; and, when they are do'ie, he will return, and show his fellow-citizens the glo- rious fruits of the continuation of his power It is true, Carbo andCsepio were beaten by the ene- my: but does their ill success terrify him? Sure- ly Carbo and Caepio were generals as much in^s- rior to Marius in valor and renown, as we are superior to the army they led. Better it were to be in action, though we suffered from it like them, than to sit still and see the destruction of ouj allies." Marius, delighted with these speeches, talked to them in a soothing way. He told them, "It was not from any distrust of them that he sat still, but that, by order of certain oracles, he waited both for the time and place which were to ensure him the victory." For he had with him a Syrian CAIUS MARIUS. 283 woman, named Martha, who was said to have the gift of prophesy. She was carried about iu a lit- ter with great respect and solemnity, and the sac- rifices he offered were all by her direction. She had formerly applied to the senate in this charac- ter, and made an offer of predicting for them fu- ture events, but they refused to hear her. Then ehe betook herself to the women, and gave them a specimen of her art. She addressed herself partic- ularly to the wife of Marius, at whose feet she happened to sit, when there was a combat of gladiators, and fortunately enough, told her which of them would prove victorious. Murius's wife sent her to her husband, who received her with the utmost veneration, and provided for her the litter in which she was generally carried. When she went to sacrifice, she wore a purple robe, lined with the same, and buttoned up, and held in her hand a spear adorned with ribbons and garlands. When they saw this pompous scene, many doubt- ed whether Marius was really persuaded of her prophetic abilities, or only pretended to be so, and acted a part, while he showed the woman iu this form. But what Alexander at Myndos relates concern- Ing the vultures really deserves admiration. Two of them, it seems, always appeared, and followed the army, before any great success, being well! ' Whether they had any commands to their wives, for they should be shortly with them?" As soon as the barbarians had all passed by, ana were in full march, Marius likewise decamped, and followed; always taking care to keep neai them, and choosing strong places at some small distance for his camp, which he also fortified, in order that he might pass the nights in safety. Thus they moved on until they came to Aqu Sextiae, from whence there is but a short march to the Alps. There Marius prepared for battle; having pitched upon a place for his camp, which was unexcep- tionable in point of strength, but afforded little water. By this circumstance, they tell us, he wanted to excite the soldiers to action; and when many of them complained of thirst, he pointed to a river which ran close by the enemy's camp, and told them, "That thence they must purchase water with their blood." "Why then," said they, "do you not lead us thither immediately, before our blood is quite parched up?" To which he answer- ed in a softer tone, "I will lead you thither, but first let us fortify our camp." The soldiers obeyed, though with some reluc- tance. But the servants of the army, being iu great want of water, both for themselves and their cattle, ran in crowds to the stream, some with known, by their brazen collars. The soldiers, I pickaxes, some with hatchets, and others wilh when they took them, had put these collars upon i swords and javelins, along with their pitchers; for them, and then let them go. From this time they I they were resolved to have water, though they knew, and in a manner saluted the soldiers, and the i were obliged to fight for it. These at first were soldiers, whenever these appeared upon their march, j encountered by a small party of the enemy, when rejoiced in the assurance of performing something I some having bathed, were engaged at dinner, and extraordinary thers were still bathing. For there the country About this time, there happened many prodi- ; abounds in hot wells. This gave the. Romans an gies, most of them of the usual kind. But news j opportunity of cutting off a number of them, was brought from Ameria and Tudertum, cities i while they were indulging themselves in those in Italy, that one night there were seen in the i delicious baths, and charmed with the sweetness of sky spears and shields of fire, now waving about ! the place. The cry of those brought others to $nd then clashing against each other, in imitation j their assistance, so that it was now difficult for of the postures and motions of men fighting; and I Marius to restrain the impetuosity of his soldiers who were in pain for their servants. Beside, the Ambrones, to the number of thirty thousand, who were the be'st troops the enemy had, and who had already defeated Manlius and Caepio, were drawn out, and stood to their arms. Though they had overcharged themselves with eating, yet the wine they had drank had given them fresh spirits; and they advanced not in a wild and disorderly man- ner, or with a confused and inarticulate noise: but beating their arms at regular intervals, and all keeping time with the tune, they came on crying out Ambrones ! Ambrones! This they did, either to en- courage each other, or to terrify the enemy with their name. The Ligurians were the first of the Ita- lians that moved against them : and when they heard the enemy cry Ambrones, they echoed back the word, which was indeed their own ancient name. Thus the shout was often returned from one army to the other before they charged, and the officers on both sides joining in it, and striving which should pronounce the word loudest, added by this means to the courage and impetuosity of their troops. The Ambrones were obliged to pass the river, and this broke their order; so that, before they could form again, the Ligurians charged the fore- most of them, and thus began the battle. The Ro- mans came to support the Ligurians, and pouring down from the higher ground, pressed the enemy so hard, that they soon put them in disorder. Many of them jostling each other on the banks of the river, were slain there, and the river itself was filled with dead bodies. Those who were got safe over not daring to make head, were cut olT that, one party giving way, and the other advanc- ing, at last they all disappeared in the west. Much about this time, too, there arrived from Pessinus, Batabaces, priest of the mother of the gods, with an account that the goddess had declared from her sanctuary, "That the Romans would soon obtain a great and glorious victory." The senate had given credit to his report, and decreed the goddess a temple on account of the victory. But when Batabaces went out to make the same declaration to the people, Aulus Pompeius, one of the tribunes, prevented him, calling him an impostor, and dri- ving him in an ignominious manner from the ros- trum. What followed, indeed, was the thing which contributed most to the credit of the pre- diction, for Aulus had scarce dissolved the assem- bly, and reached his own house, when he was seized with a violent fever, of which he died within a week. This was a fact universally known. Marius still keeping close, the Teutones at- tempted to force his intrenchments; but being received with a shower of darts from the camp, by which they lost a number of men, they resolv- ed to march forward, concluding that they might pass the Alps in full security. They packed up their baggnge, therefore, and" inarched by the Ro- man camp. Then it was that the immensity of their numbers appeared in the clearest light from the length of their train, and the time they took up in passing; for it is said, that though they moved on without intermission, they were six days in going by Marius's camp. Indeed, they went very near it, and asked the Romans by way of insult, 284 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. by the Romang, as they fled to their camp and carriages. There the women meeting them with swords and axes, and setting up a horrid and hid- eous cry, fell upon the fugitives, as well as the pursuers, the former as traitors, and the latter as enemies. Mingling with the combatants, they laid hold on the Roman shields, catched at their swords with their naked hands, and obstinately suffered themselves to be hacked in pieces. Thus the battle is said to have been fought on the banks of the river rather by accident than any design of the general. The Romans, after having destroyed so many of the Arnbrones, retired as it grew dark; but the camp did not resound with songs of victory, as might have been expected upon such success. There were no entertainments, no mirth in their tents, nor, what is the most agreeable circum- stance to the soldier after victory, any sound and refreshing sleep. The night was passed in the greatest dread and perplexity. The camp was without trench or rarnpart. There remained yet many myriads of the barbarians unconquered; and such of the Arnbrones as escaped, mixing with them, a cry was heard all night, not like the sighs and groans of men, but like the howling and bellowing of wild beasts. As this proceed- ed from such an innumerable host, the neighbor- ing mountains and the hollow banks of the river returned the sound, and the horrid din filled the whole plains. The Romans felt the impressions of terror, and Marius himself was filled with aston- ishment at the apprehension of a tumultuous night engagement. However, the barbarians did not at- tack them, either that night or next day, but spent the time in consulting how to dispose and draw themselves up to the best advantage. In the meantime Marius observing the sloping hills and woody hollows that hung over the ene- my's camp, dispatched Claudius Marcellus with three thousand men, to lie in ambush there until the fight was begun, and then to fall upon the enemy's rear. The rest of his troops he ordered to sup and go to rest in good time. Next morn- ing as soon as it was light he drew up before the camp, and commanded the cavalry to march into the plain. The Teutones seeing this, could not contain themselves nor stay until all the Romans were come down into the plain, where they might fight them upon equal terms, but arming hasti- ly through thirst of vengeance, advanced up to the hill. Marius dispatched his officers through the whole army, with orders that they should stand still, and wait for the enemy. When the barbarians were within reach, the Romans were to throw their javelins, then come to sword in hand; and pressing upon them with their shields, push them with all their force. For he knew the place was so slippery, that the enemy's blows could have no great weight, nor could they pre- serve any close order, where the declivity of the ground continually changed their poise. At the same time tiiat he gave these directions, he was the first that set the example. For he was infe- rior to none in personal agility, and in resolution he far exceeded them all. The Romans by their firmness and united charge, kept the barbarians from ascending the hill, and by little and little forced them down into the plain. There the foremost battalions were beginning to form again, when the utmost confu- sion discovered itself in the rear. For Marcel- lus, who had watched his opportunity, as soon as he found, by the noise, which reached the hills where he lay, that the battle was begun, with great impetuosity and loud shouts fell upon the enemy's rear, and destroyed a considerable nii u- ber of them. The hindmost being pushed upon those before, the whole army was soon put in dia order. Thus attacked both iu front and rear, they could not stand the double shock, but for- sook their ranks, and fled.* The Romans pur- suing, either killed or took prisoners above a hun- dred thousand, and having made themselves mas- ters of their tents, carriages and baggage, voted as many of them as were not plundered, a pres- ent to Marius. This indeed was a noble recom- pense, yet it was thought very inadequate to the generalship he had shown in that great and im- minent danger.f Other historians give a different account, both of the disposition of the spoils, and the number of the slain. From these writers we learn, that the Massiliuns walled in their vineyards with the bones they found in the field: and that the rain which fell the winter following, soaking in the moisture of the putrefied bodies, the ground was so enriched by it, that it produced the next sea- son a prodigious crop. Thus the opinion of Ar- chilochus is confirmedj that fe.lds are fattened with blood. It is observed, indeed, that extraordi- nary rains generally fall after great battles; whether it be, that some deity chooses to wash and purify the earth with water from above, or whether the blood and corruption, by the moist and heavy vapors they emit, thicken the air, which is liable to be altered by the smallest cause. After the battle Marius selected from among the arms and other spoils, such as were elegant and entire, and likely to make the greatest show in his triumph. The rest he piled together, and offered them as a splendid sacrifice to the gods. The army stood round the pile crowned with lau- rel; and himself arrayed in his purple robe, and girt after the manner of the Romans, took a lighted torch. He had just lifted it" up with both hands toward heaven and was going to set fire to the piles, when some friends were seen galloping toward him. Great silence and expec- tation followed. When they were come near, they leaped from their horses, and saluted Marius consul the fifth time, delivering him letters to the same purpose. This added great joy to the so- lemnity, which the soldiers expressed by acclama- tions, and by clanking their arms; and while the officers were presenting Marius with new crowns of laurel, he set fire to the pile, and finished the sacrifice. But whatever it is, that will not permit us tt) enjoy any great prosperity pure and unmixed, but chequers human life with a variety of good and evil; whether it be fortune or some chastising deity; or necessity and the nature of things; a few days after this joyous solemnity, the sad news was brought to Marius of what had befallen his colleague Catulus. An event, which, like a cloud in the midst of a calm, brought fresh alarms upon Rome, and threatened her with another tempest. Catulus, who had the Cirnbri to oppose^ came to a resolution to give up the defense of the hights lest he should weaken himself by being obliged to divide his force into many parts. He therefore descended quickly from the Alps into Italy, and posted his army behind the river Atho- * This victory was pained the second year of the hundred and sixty-ninth Olympiad. Before Christ, one hundred. t And yet, there does not nppear anything very extraordi- nary in the generalship of Marius on this occasion. Th ignorance and rashness of the barharians did everything in his favor. The Teutones lost the battle, as Hauley lost U at Falkirk, by attempting the hills. CAIUS MARIUS 285 Bis;* where he blocked up the fords with strong fortifications on both sides, and threw a bridge over it; so that he might be in a condition to suc- cor the garrisons beyond it, if the barbarians should make their way through the narrow passes of the mountains, and attempt to storm them. The barbarians held their enemies in such con- tempt, and came oa with so much insolence, that, rather to show their strength and courage, than out of any necessity, they exposed themselves na- ked to the showers "of snow; and, having pushed through the ice and deep drifts of snow to the tops of the mountains, they put their broad shields under them, and so slid down in spite of the broken rocks and vast slippery descents. When they had encamped near the river, and taken a view of the channel, they determined to fill it up. Then they tore up the neighboring hills, like the giants of old; they pulled up trees by the roots; they broke off massy rocks, and rolled in huge heaps of earth. These were to dam up the current. Other bulky materials, be- side these, were thrown in, to force away the bridge, which being carried down the stream with great violence, beat against the timber, and shook the foundation. At the sight of this the Roman soldiers were struck with terror, and great part of them quitted the camp and drew back. On this occasion Catulus, like an able and excellent general, showed that he preferred the glory of his country to his own. For when he found that he could not persuade his men to keep their post, and that they were deserting it in a very dastardly manner, he ordered his standard to be taken up, and running to the foremost of the fugitives, led them on hims-slf; choosing rather that the dis- grace should fall upon him than upon his coun- try, and that his soldiers should not seem to fly, but to follow their general. The barbarians now assaulted and took the for- tress on the other side of the Athesis: but ad- miring the bravery of the garrison, who had be- haved in a manner suitable to the glory of Rome, they dismissed them upon certain conditions, hav- ing first made them swear to them upon a brazen bull. In the battle that followed, this bull was taken among the spoils, and is said to have been carried to Catnlus's house, as the first fruits of the victory. The country at present being with- out defense, the Cimbri spread themselves over it, and committed great depredations. Hereupon Marius was called home. When he arrived, every one expected that he would tri- umph, and the senate readily passed a decree for that purpose. However, he declined it; whether it was that he was unwilling to deprive his men, who had shared in the danger, of their part of the honor, or that to encourage the people in the present extremity, he chose to intrust the glory of his former achievements with the fortune of Rome, in order to have it restored to him with in- terest upon his next success. Having made an oration suitable to the time, he went to join Ca- tulus, who was much encouraged by his coming. He then sent for his army out of Gaul; and When it was arrived, he crossed the Po, with a de- sign to keep the barbarians from penetrating into the interior parts of Italy. But they deferred the combat, on pretense that they expected the Teu- iones, and that they wondered at their delay; either being really ignorant of their fate, or choosing to seem so. For they punished those who brought them that account with stripes; and sent to ask Marius for lands and cities, sufficient Now the A<lige. both for them and their brethren. When Mariua inquired of the ambassadors who their brethren were, they told him the Teutones. The assembly laughed, and Marius replied in a taunting man- ner, "Do not trouble yourselves about your breth- ren, for they have land enough, which we have already given them, and they shall have it for ever." The ambassadors perceiving the irony, answered in sharp and scurrilous terms, assuring him, "That the Cimbri would chastise him im- mediately, and the Teutones when they came." " And they are not far off", 5 ' said Marius, " it will be very unkind, therefore, in you to go away without saluting your brethren." At the same time he ordered the kings of the Teutones to be brought out, loaded as they were with chains: for they had been taken by the Sequani,as they were endeavoring to escape over the Alps. As soon as the ambassadors had acquainted the Cimbri with what had passed, they marched di- rectly against Marius, who at that time lay still, and kept within his trenches. It is reported that on this occasion he contrived a new form for the javelins. Until then they used to fasten the shaft to the iron head with two iron pins. But Marius now letting one of them remain as it was, had the other taken out, and a weak wooden peg put in its place. By this contrivance he intended, that when the javelin stuck in the enemy's shield, it should not stand right out; but that, the wooden peg breaking, and the iron pin bending, the shaft of the weapon should be dragged upon the ground, while the point stuck fast in the shield. Boiorix, king of the Cimbri, came now with a small party of horse to the Roman camp, and chal- lenged Marius to appoint the time and place where they should meet and decide it by arms, to whom the country should belong. Marius answered, " That the Romans never consulted their enemies when to fight; however, he would indulge the Cimbri in this point." Accordingly they agreed to fight the third day after, and that the plain of VercellaR should be the field of battle, which was fit for the Roman cavalry to act in, and convenient for the barbarians to display their numbers. Both parties kept their day, and drew up their forces over against each other. Catulus had under Uis command twenty thousand and three hundred men: Marius had thirty-two thousand. The lat- ter were drawn up in the two wings, and Catulus was in the center. Sylla, who was present in the battle, gives us this account, and it is reported, that Marius made this disposition, in hopes of breaking the Cimbrian battalions with the wings only, and securing to himself and his soldiers the honor of the victory, before Catulus could have an opportunity to come up to the charge; it being usual, in a large front, for the wings to advance before the main body- This is confirmed by the defense which Catulus made of his own behavior, in which he insisted much on the malignant de- signs of Marius against him. The Cimbrian infantry marched out of their trenches without noise, and formed so as to have their flanks equal to their front; each side of the square extending to thirty furlongs. Their cavai- ry, to the number of fifte'en thousand, issued forth in great splendor. Their helmets represented the heads and open jaws of strange .and frightful wild beasts: on these were fixed high plumes, which made the men appear taller. Their breast- plates* were of polished iron, and their shields were white and glittering. Each man had two-edged darts to fight with at a distance, and when they came hand to hand, they used broad and heavy swords. In this engagement they did not fall directly upon- 286 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. the front of the Romans, but wheeling to the right, they endeavored by little and little to in- close the enemy between them and their infantry, who were posted on the left. The Roman gen- erals perceived their artful design, but were not able to restrain their own men. One happened to cry out, that the enemy fled, and they all set off upon the pursuit. In the meantime, the barbarian foot came on like a vast sea. Marius having pu- rified, lifted his hands toward heaven, and vowed a hecatomb to the gods; and Catulus, in the same posture, promised to consecrate a temple to the fortune of that day. As Marius sacrificed on this occasion, it is said, that the entrails were no sooner shown him, than he cried out with a loud voice, " The victory is mine." However, when the battle was joined, an acci- dent happened, which, as Sylla writes,* appeared to be intended by Heaven to humble Marius. A prodigious dust, it seems, arose, which hid both armies. Marius moving first to the charge, had the misfortune to miss the enemy; and having passed by their army, wandered about with his troops a long time in the field. In the meantime, the good fortune of Catulus directed the enemy to him, and it was his legions (in which Sylla tells us he fought) to whose lot the chief conflict fell. The heat of the weather, and the sun, which shone full in the faces of the Cirnbri, fought for the Ro- mans. Those barbarians, being bred in shady and frozen countries, could bear the severest cold, but were not proof against heat. Their bodies soon ran down with sweat; they drew their breath with difficulty, and were forced to hold their shields to shade their faces. Indeed this battle was fought not long after the summer solstice, and the Ro- mans keep a festival for it on the third day of the calends of August, then called Sextilis. The dust, too, which hid the enemy, helped to encou- rage the. Romans. For as they could have no dis- tinct view of the vast numbers of their antago- nists, they ran to the charge, and were come to close engagement before the sight of such multi- tudes could give them any impressions of terror. Beside, the Romans were so strengthened by labor and exercise, that not one of them was observed to sweat or be out of breath, notwithstanding the suffocating heat and the violence of the encoun- ter. So Catulus himself is said to have written, In commendation of his soldiers. The greatest and best part of the enemy's troops were cut to pieces upon the spot; those who fought iu the front fastened themselves together, by long cords run through their belts,f to prevent their ranks from being broken. The Romans drove back the fugitives to their camp, where they found the most shocking spectacle. The women stand- ing in mourning by their carriages, killed those that fled; some their husbands, some their bro- thers, others their fathers. They strangled their little children with their own hands, and threw them under the wheels and horses' feet. Last of all, they killed themselves. They tell us of one that was seen slung from the top of a wagon, with a child hanging at each heel. The men, for want of trees, tied themselves by the neck, some to the horns of the oxen, others to their legs, and then pricked them on; that by the starting of the beasts they might be strangled or torn to pieces. But though they were so industrious to destroy them- selves, above sixty thousand were taken prisoners, * It is a misfortune, that Catulus's History of his consul- (>ip, arid a greater, that Sylla's commentaries, are lost. t This was nn absurd contrivance to keep their ranks. lint they intended also to have bound their prisoners will the cords ai'ter the battle. and the killed were said to have been twice that number. Marius's soldiers plundered the baggage; but the other spoils, with the ensigns and (.1 urn pets, they :ell us, were brought to the camp of Catulus; and he availed himself chiefly of this, as a proof that the victory belonged to him. A hot dispute, it seems, arose between his troops and those of Ma- rius, which had the best claim; and the arnbassa- iors from Parrna, who happened to be there, were chosen arbitrators. Catulus's soldiers led them to the field of battle to see the dead, and clearly proved that they were killed by their javelins, because Catulus had taken care to have the shafts ascribed with his name. Nevertheless, the whole lonor of the day was ascribed to Marius, on ac- count of his former victory, and his present au- thority. Nay, such was the applause of the populace, that they called him the third founder of Rome, as having rescued her from a danger not ess dreadful than that from the Gauls. In their rejoicings at home with, their wives and children, at supper they offered libations to Marius along with the gods, and would have given him alone the honor of both triumphs. He declined this ndeed, and triumphed with Catulus, being de- sirous to show his moderation after such extraor- dinary instances of success. Or, perhaps, he was afraid of some opposition from Catulus's soldiers, who might not have suffered him to triumph, if he had deprived their general of his share of the honor. In this manner his fifth consulate was passed. And now he aspired to a sixth, with more ardor than any man had ever shown for his first. He courted the people, and endeavored to ingratiate himself with the meanest of them by such servile condescensions, as were not only unsuitable to his dignity, but even contrary to his disposition; assuming an air of gentleness and complaisance, for which nature never meant him. It is said, that in civil affairs and the tumultuous proceed- ings of the populace, his ambiiion had given him an uncommon timidity. That intrepid firmness which he displayed in battle forsook him in the assemblies of the people, and the least breath of praise or dislike disconcerted him in his address. Yet we are told, that when he had granted the freedom of the city to a thousand Camerians, who had distinguished themselves by their behavior in the wars, and his proceeding was found fault with as contrary to law, he said, " The law spolo too softly to be heard amidst the din of arms." How- ever, the noise that he dreaded, and that robbed him of his presence of mind, was that of popular assemblies. In war he easily obtained the highest rank, because they could not do without him; but in the administration he was sometimes in danger of losing the honors he solicited. In these cases he had recourse to the partiality of the mul- titude; and had no scruple of making his honesty subservient to his ambition. By these means, he made himself obnoxious to all the patricians. But he was most afraid of Me- tellus, whom he had treated with ingratitude. Beside, Metellus was a man who, from a spirit or' true virtue, was naturally an enemy to those who endeavored to gain the populace by evil arts, and directed all their measures to please them. Ma- rius, therefore, was very desirous to get him out of the way. For this purpose he associated with Glaucias and Saturninus, two of the most daring and turbulent men in Rome, who had the indi- gent and seditious part of the people at their command. By their assistance he got several laws enacted; and having planted many of hi* CAIUS MARIUS. 287 oldiers fn the assemblies, his faction prevailed, and Metellus was overborne. Rutilius,* in other respects a mar of credit and reracity, but particularly prejudiced against Ma- rius, tells us he obtained his sixth consulate by large sums which he distributed among the tribes, and having thrown out Metellus by dint of money, prevailed "with them to elect Valerius Flaccus, rather his servant than his colleague. The people had never before bestowed so many consulates on any one man, except Valerius Corvinus.f And there was this great difference, that between the. first and sixth consulate of Corvinus there was tm interval of forty-five years; whereas Marius, after his first, was carried through five more with- out interruption, by one tide of fortune. In the last of these he exposed himself to much hatred by abetting Saturninus in all his crimes; particularly in his murder of Nonius, whom he slew because he was his competitor for the tri- buneship. Saturninus, being appointed tribune of the people, proposed an Agrarian law, in which there was a clause expressly providing, " That the senate should come and swear in full assembly, to confirm whatever the people should decree, and not oppose them in anything." Marius, in the senate, pretended to declare against this clause, as- serting that, " He would never take such an oath, and that he believed no wise man would. For, supposing the law not a bad one, it would be a disgrace to the senate to be compelled to give sanction to a thing, which they should be brought to only by choice or persuasion." These, however, were not his real sentiments; but he was laying for Metellus an unavoidable snare. As to himself, he reckoned that a great part of virtue and prudence consisted in dissimu- lation; therefore he made but small account of his declaration in the senate. At the same time, knowing Metellus to be a man of immovable firmness, who, with Pindar, esteemed Truth the spring of heroic virtue, he hoped, by refusing the oath himself, to draw him in to refuse it too; which would infallibly expose him to the impla- cable resentment of the people. The event an- swered his expectation. Upon Metellus's declar- ing that he would not take the oath, the senate was dismissed. A few days after, Saturninus summoned the fathers to appear in the jorum, and swear to that article, and Marius made his appear- ance among the rest. A profound silence ensued, and all eyes were fixed upon him, when bidding adieu to the fine things he had said in the senate, he told the audience, " That he was not so opinion- ated as to pretend absolutely to prejudge a matter of such importance, and therefore he would take the oath, and keep the law too, provided it was a law." This proviso he added, merely to give a color to his impudence, and was sworn imme- diately.* * P. Rutilins Rufus was consul the year before the second consulship of Manns. He wrote his own life in Latin, ami a Roman history in (ireek. Cicero mentions him, on several occasions, as a man of honor and probity. He was exiled six or seven years after the sixth consulship of Ma- rius. Sylla would have recalled him, but he refused to return. t Valerius Corvinus was elected consul when he was only twenty-three years of age, in the year of Rome four hun- dred and six; and he was appointed consul the sixth time in the year of Rome four hundred and fifty-two. J Thus Marius made the first step toward the ruin of the Roman constitution, which happened not long after. If the senate were to swear to confirm whatever the people should decree whether good 01 oud, they ceased to have a weight in the scale, and UJB government became a democracy. And as the people grew so corrupt as to take the highest priuo that was ottered them, nbolr.te power mut be ad- vanced wit'i hasty iUi^co. ludeud, a nation which has no The people charmed with his compliance, ex- pressed their sense of it in loud acclamations; while the patricians were abashed, and held his double-dealing in the highest detestation. In- timidated by the people, they took the oath, how- ever, in their order, until it came to Metellus. But Metellus, though his friends exhorted and en- treated him to be conformable, and not expose himself to those dreadful penalties which Satur- ninus had provided for such as refused, shrunk not from the dignity of his resolution, nor took the oath. That great man abode by his princi- ples; he was ready to suffer the greatest calami- ties, rather than do a dishonorable thing; and as he quitted the forum, he said to those about him, "To do an ill action is base; to do a good one, which involves you in no danger, is nothing more than common: but it is the property of a good man, to do great and good things, though he risks everything by it." Saturninus -then caused a decree to be made, that the consuls should declare Metellus a person interdicted the use of fire and water, whom no man should admit into his house. And the mean- est of the people, adhering to that party, were ready even to assassinate him. The nobility now anxious for Metellus, ranged themselves on his side; but he would suffer no sedition on his ac count. Instead of that, he adopted a wise mea- sure, which was to leave the city. "For," said he, "either matters will take a better turn, and the people repent and recall me; or if they remain the same, it will be best to be at a distance from Rome:" what regard and what honors were paid Metellus during his banishment, and b'>w he lived at Rhodes in the study of philosophy, it will be more convenient to mention in his life. Marius was so highly obliged to Saturninus for this last piece of service, that he was forced to connive at him, though he now ran out into every act of insolence and outrage. He did not con- sider that he was giving the reins to a destroying fury, who was making his way in blood to abso- lute power and the subversion of the state. All this while Marius was desirous to keep fair with the nobility, and at the same time to retain the good graces of the people; and this led him to act a part, than which nothing can be conceived more ungenerous and deceitful. One night some of the first men in the state came to his house, and pressed him to declare against Saturninus: but at that very time he let in Saturninus at another door unknown to them. Then pretending a dis- order in his bowels, he went from one party to the other: and this trick he played several times over still exasperating both against each other. A last the senate and the equestrian order rose in a body, and expressed their indignation in such strong terms, that he was obliged to send a party of soldiers into the forum, to suppress the sedi- tion. Saturninus, Glaucias, and the rest of the cabal, fled into the Capitol. There they were besieged, and at last forced to yield for want of water, the pipes being cut off. When they could hold out no longer, they called for Marius, and surrendered themselves to him upon the public faith. He tried every art to save them, but no- thing would avail; they no sooner came down into the forum, than they were all put to the sword.* He was now become equally odious both to the nobility and the commons, so that when the time for the election of Censors came principle of public virtue left, is not fit to be governed by any other. * The people dispatched them with clubs and stone*. 288 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. on, contrary to expectation, he declined offering nimself,and permitted others of less note to be chosen. But though it was his fear of a repulse that made him sit still, he gave it another color; pretending he did not choose to niake himself ob- noxious to the people, by a severe inspection into their lives and manners. An edict was now proposed for the recall of Metellus. Marius opposed it with all his power; but finding his endeavors fruitless, he gave up the point, and the people passed the. bill with pleasure. Unable to bear the sight of Metellus, he contriv- ed to take a voyage to Cappadocia and Galatia, under pretense of offering some sacrifices which he had vowed to the mother of the gods. But he had another reason which was not known to the people. Incapable of making any figure in peace, and unversed in political knowledge, he saw that all his greatness arose from war, and that in a state of inaction its luster began to fade. He, therefore, studied to raise new commotions. If he could but stir up the Asiatic kings, and particu- larly Mithridates, who seemed most inclined to quarrel, he hoped soon to be appointed general against him, and to have an opportunity to fill the city with new triumphs, as well as to enrich his own house with the spoils of Pontus and the wealth of its monarch. For this reason, though Mithridates treated him in the politest and most respectful manner, he was not in the least molli- fied, but addressed him in the following terms "Mithrfdates, your business is, either to render yourself more powerful than the Romans, or to submit quietly to their commands." The king was quite amazed. He had often heard of the liberty of speech that prevailed among the Ro- mans, but that was the first time he experienced it. At his return to Rome, he built a house near the forum; either for the convenience of those who wanted to wait on him, which was the reason he assigned; or because he hoped to have a greater concourse of people at his gates. In this, however, he was mistaken. He had not those graces of conversation, that engaging address, which others were masters of; and therefore, like a mere implement of war, he was neglected in time of peace. He was not so much concerned at the preference given to others, but that which Sylla had gained, afflicted him exceedingly; be- cause he was rising by means of the envy which the patricians bore him, and his first step to the administration, was a quarrel with him. But when Bocchus, king of Numidia, now declared an ally of the Romans, erected in the Capitol some figures of Victory adorned with trophies, and placed by them a set of golden statues, which represented him delivering Jugurtha into the hands of Sylla, Marius was almost distracted. He considered this as an act by which Sylla want- ed to rob him of the glory of his achievements, and prepared to demolish these monuments by force. Sylla, on his part as strenuously opposed him. This sedition was just upon the point of flam- ing out, when the war of the allies intervened,* and put a stop to it. The most warlike and most populous nations of Italy conspired against Rome, and were not far from subverting the empire. Their strength consisted not only in the weap- ons and valor of their soldiers, but in the cour- age and capacity of their generals, who were wot inferior to those of Rome. * This was also called the Marsian war. It broke out in the six hundred and sixty-second year of Rome. Vide Flor. i. iii, c. 18. This war, so remarkable for the number of bat- tles and the variety of fortune that attended it. added as much to the reputation of Sylla, as it diminished that of Marius. The latter now seem- ed slow in his attacks, as well as dilatory in his resolutions: whether it were, that age had quench- ed his martial heat and vigor (for he was now above sixty-five years old), or that, as he himself said, his nerves being weak, and his body un- wieldy, he underwent the fatigues of war, which were in fact above his strength, merely upon a point of honor. However, he beat the enemy in a great battle, wherein he killed at least six thou- sand of them, and through the whole he took care to give them no advantage over him. Nay, he suffered them to draw a line about him, to ridicule, and challenge him to the combat, with- out being in the least concerned at it. It was re- ported, that when Pompedius Silo, an officer of the greatest eminence and authority among the allies, said to him, " If you are a great general, Marius, come down and fight us:" he answered, "If you are a great general, Silo, make me come down and fight." Another time, when the enemy gave the Romans a good opportunity of attacking them, and they were afraid to embrace it; after both parties were retired, he called his soldiers together, and made this short speech to them "I know not which to call the greatest cow- ards, the enemy or you; for neither dare they face your backs, nor you theirs." At last, pretending to be incapacitated for the service, by his infii mi- ties, he laid down the command. Yet when the war with the confederates diew to an end, and several applications were made, through the popular orators, for the command against Mithridates, the tribune Snlpitius, a bold and daring man, contrary to all expectations, brought forth Marius, and nominated him Pro- consul and general in the Mithridatic war. The people, upon this, were divided, some accepting Marius, while others called for Sylla, and bade Marius go to the warm baths of Baise for cure, since, by his own confession, he was quite worn out with age and defluxions. It seems, Marius had a fine villa at Misenum, more luxuriously and effeminately furnished than became a man who had been at the head of so many armies, and had directed so many campaigns. Cornelia is said to have bought this house for seventy-five thousand drachmas; yet no long time after. Lucius Lucullns gave for it five hundred thousand two hundred: to such a hight did expense and luxury rise iu the course of a few years. Marius, however, affecting to shake off the in- firmities of age, went every day into the Campus Martins; where he took the most robust exer- cises along with the young men, and showed him- self nimble in his arms, and active on horseback, though his years had now made him heavy and corpulent. Some were pleased with these things, and went to see the spirit he exerted in the ex- ercises. But the more sensible sort of people*, when they beheld it, could not help pitying the avarice and ambition of a man, who, though raised from poverty to opulence, and from the meanest condition to greatness, knew not how to set bounds to his good fortune. It shocked them to think, that this man, instead of being happy in the admiration he had gained, and enjoying his present possessions in peace, as if he were in want of all things, was going, at so great an age, and after so many honors and triumphs, to Cap- padocia and the Euxine sea, to fight with Arch*- laus and Neoptolemus, the lieutenants of Mithri- dates. As for the reason that .Murius assigned CAIUS MARIUS. for this step, namely, that he wanted himself to train up his son to war, it was perfectly trifling The commonwealth had been sickly for some time, and now her disorder came to a crisis. Marius had found a fit instrument for her ruin in the audacity of Sulpitius; a man who in other respects admired and imitated Saturninus, but considered him too timid and dilatory in his pro- ceedings. Determined to commit no such error, he got six hundred men of the equestrian order about him, as his guard, whom ho called his Anti- senate. One day while the Consuls were holding an as- sembly of the people,* Sulpitius came upon them with his assassins. The Consuls immediately fled, but lie seized the son of one of them, and killed him on the spot. Sylla (the other Consul) was pursued, but escaped into the house of Ma- rius, which nobody thought of; and when the pur- suers were gone by, it is said that Marius hirnsalf let him out at a back gate, from whence he got safe to the camp. But Sylla, in his Commen- taries, denies that he fled to the house of Marius. He writes, that he was taken thither to debate about certain edicts, which they wanted him to pass against his will; that he was surrounded with drawn swords, and carried forcibly to that house: and that at last he was removed from thence to the forum, where he was compelled to revoke the order of vocation,-)- which had been issued by him and his colleague. Sulpitius, now carrying all before him, decreed the command of the army to Marius; and Marius, greparing for his march, sent two tribunes to ylla, with orders that he should deliver up the army to them. But Sylla, instead of resigning his charge, animated his troops to revenge, and led them, to the number of thirty thousand foot and five thousand horse, directly against Rome. As for the tribunes whom Marius had sent to de- mand the army of Sylla, they fell upon them and cut them in pieces. Marius, on the other hand, put to death many of Sylla's friends in Rome, and proclaimed liberty to all slaves that would take up arms in his behalf. But we are told, there were but three that accepted this offer. He could therefore make but a slight resistance; Syl- la soon entered the city, and Marius was forced to fly for his life. As soon as he had quitted Rome, he was aban- doned by those that had accompanied him. They dispersed themselves as they could; and night coming on, he retired to a little house he had near Rome, called Salonium. Thence he sent his son to some neighboring farms of his father-in-law Mutius, to provide necessaries. However, he did not wait for his return, but went down to Ostia, where a friend of his, called Numerius, had pre- pared him a ship, and embarked, having with him wily Granius, his wife's son by a former husband. When young Marius had reached his grand- father's estate, he hastened to collect such things as he wanted, and to pack them up. But before he could make an end, he was overtaken by day- light, and was near being discovered by the ene- my; for a party of horse had hastened thither, on suspicion that Marius might be lurking there- abouts. The bailiff* of those grounds got sight of them in time, and hid the young man in a cart- load of beans. Then he put to his team, and driving up to the party of horsemen, passed on to Sylla and Pompeius Rufus were consuls. It was the ion of the latter that was slain. t If that order had not been revoked, no public business onld have been done; consequently, Marius could not have teen appointed to the command against Mithridates. 19 Rome. Thus young Marius was conveyed to his wife, who supplied him with some necessaries; and as soon as it grew dark, he made for Ihe sea, where, finding a ship ready to sail for Africa, he embarked, and passed over to that country. In the meantime the elder Marius with a favor- able gale coasted Italy. But being afraid of fall- ing into the hands of Geminius, a leading man in Tarracina, who was his professed enemy, he directed the mariners to keep clear of that place. The mariners were willing enough to oblige him; but the wind shifting on a sudden, and blowing hard from sea, they were afraid they should not be able to weather the storm. Beside, Marius was indisposed and sea-sick; they concluded therefore to make land, and with great difficulty got to CircaBurn. There finding that the tempest in- creased, and their provisions began to fail, they went on shore, and wandered up and down, they knew not whither. Such is the method taken by persons in great perplexity; they shun the present as the greatest evil, and seek for hope in the dark events of futurity. The land was their enemy, the sea was the same; it was dangerous to meet with men; it was dangerous also not to meet with them, because of their extreme want of provisions. In the evening they met with a few herdsmen who had nothing to give them; but happening to know Marius, they desired he would immediately quit those parts, for a little before they had seen a number of horse upon that very spot riding about in search of him. He was now involved in all manner of distress, and those about him ready to give out through hunger. In this extremity he turned out of the road, and threw himself into a thick wood, where he passed the night in great anxiety. Next day, in distress for want of re- freshment, and willing to make use of the little strength he had, before it quite forsook him, lie moved down to the seaside. As he went, he en- couraged his companions not to desert him, and earnestly entreated them to wait for the accom- plishment of his last hope, for which he reserved himself, upon the credit of some old prophesies. He told them that when he was very young, and lived in the country, an eagle's nest fell into his lap, with seven young ones in it.* His parents, surprised at the sight, applied to the diviners, who answered, that their son would be the most illus- trious of men, and that he would seven times attain the highest office and authority in his country. Some say, this had actually happened to Marius; others are of opinion, that the persons who were then about him, and heard him relate it on that, as well as several other occasions, during his exile, gave credit to it, and committed it to writing, though nothing could be more fabulous. For an eagle has not more than two young ones at a time. Nay, even Musaeus is accused of a falsa assertion, when he says, The eagle lays three eggs, sits on two, and hatches but one. However this may be, it is agreed on all hands, that Marius, during his banishment, and in the greatest extre- mities, often said, "He should certainly come to a seventh consulship." They were not now above two miles and a half from the city of Minturnas, when they espied at some considerable distance a troop of horse mak- ing toward them, and at the same time happened to see two barks sailing near the shore. They ran down, therefore, to the sea, with all the speed and strength they had; and when they had reached it, * Marius might as well avail himself of th s fable, a at the prophesies of Martha. 290 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. plunged in and swam toward the ships. Gran- nius gained one of them, and passed over to an opposite island, called ^Enaria- As for Marius, who was very heavy and unwieldy, he was borne with much difficulty by two servants above the water, and put into the other ship. The party of horse were by this time come to the seaside, from whence they called to the ship's crew, either to put ashore immediately, or else to throw Marius overboard, and then they might go where they pleased. Marius begged of them with tears to save him; and the masters of the vessel, after consulting together a few moments, in which they changed their opinions several times, re- solved to make answer, "That they would not deliver up Marius." Upon this, the soldiers rode off' in a great rage; and the sailors, soon departing from their resolution, made for land. They cast anchor in the mouth of the river Liris, where it overflows and forms a marsh, and advised Marius, who was much harassed, to go and refresh him- self on shore, until they could get a better wind. This they said would happen at a certain hour, when the wind from the sea would fall, and that from the marshes rise. Marius believing them, they helped iiirn ashore; and he seated himself on the grass, little thinking of what was going to befall him. For the crew immediately went on board again, weighed anchor, and sailed away: thinking it neither honorable to deliver up Marius, nor safe to protect him. Thus deserted by all the world, he sat a good while on the shore, in silent stupefaction. At length, recovering himself with much difficulty, he rose and walked in a disconsolate manner through those wild and devious places, until by scrambling over deep bogs and ditches full of water and mud, he came to the cottage of an old man who worked in the fens. He threw himself at his feet, and begged him "To save and shelter a man, who, if he escaped the present danger, would reward him far beyond his hopes." The cottager, whether he knew him before, or was then moved with his venerable aspect, told him, "His hut would be sufficient, if he wanted only to repose himself; but if he was wandering about to elude the search of his enemies, he would hide him in a place much safer and more retired." Marius desiring him to do so, the poor man took him into the fens, and bade him hide himself in a hollow place by the river, where he laid upon him a quantity of reeds and other light things, that would cover, but not oppress him. In a short time, however, he was disturbed with a tumultuous noise from the cottage. For Gemi- uius had sent a number of men from Tarracina in pursuit of him; and one party coming that way, loudly threatened the old man for having enter- tained and concealed an enemy to the Romans, j Marius, upon this, quitted the cave; and having j stripped himself, plunged into the bog, amidst the I thick water and mud. This expedient rather dis- covered than screened him. They hauled him out naked and covered with dirt, and carried him to Miuturnce, where they delivered him to the I magistrates. For proclamation had been made ! through all those towns, that a general search | should be made for Marius, and that he should be put to death wherever he was found. The magis- trates, however, thought proper to consider of it, and sent him under a guard to the house of Fan- uia This woman had an inveterate aversion to Marius. When she was divorced from her hus- band Tinnius, she demanded her whole fortune, which was considerable, and Tinnius alleging adultery, the cause was brought before Marius, who was then consul for the sixth time. Upon the trial it appeared that Fannia was a woman of bad fame before her marriage; and that Tinnius was no stranger to her character when he married her. Beside, he had lived with her a considerable time in the state of matrimony. The consul, of course, reprimanded them both. The husband was ordered to restore his wife's fortune, and the wife, as a proper mark of her disgrace, was sen- tenced to pay a fine of four drachmas. Fannia, however, forgetful of female resent- ment, entertained and encouraged Marius to the utmost of her power. He acknowledged her generosity, and at the same time expressed the greatest vivacity and confidence. The occasion of this was an auspicious omen. When he was conducted to her house, as he approached, and the gate was opened, an ass came out to drink at a neighboring fountain. The animal, with a viva- city uncommon to his species, fixed its eyes stead- fastly on Marius, then brayed aloud, and, as it passed him, skipped wantonly along. The con- clusion which he drew from this omen was, that the gods meant he should seek his safety by sea: for that it was not in consequence of any natural thirst that the ass went to the fountain.* This circumstance he mentioned to Fannia, and having ordered the door of his chamber to be secured, he went to rest. However, the magistrates and council of Min- turnee concluded that Marius should immediately be put to death. No citizen would undertake this? office; but a dragoon, either a Gaul or a Cimbrian, (for both are mentioned in history) went up to him sword in hand, with an intent to dispatch him. The chamber in which he lay, was some- what gloomy, and a light, they tell you, glanced from the eyes of Marius, which darted on the face of the assassin; while at the same time he heard a solemn voice saying, " Dost thou dare to kill Marius?" Upon this the assassin threw down hia sword and fled, crying, " I cannot kill Marius." The people of Minturnae were struck with astonish- ment pity and remorse ensued should they put to death the preserver of Italy? was it not even a disgrace to them that they did not contribute to his relief? " Let him go," said they, " let the exile go, and await his destiny in some other re- gion! It is time we should deprecate the anger of the gods, who have refused the poor, the naked wanderer, the privileges of hospitality 1" Under the influence of this enthusiasm, they immediately conducted him to the sea-coast. Yet in the midst of their officious expedition they met with some delay. The Marician grove, which they hold sacred, and suffer nothing that enters it to be re- moved, lay immediately in their way. Conse- quently they could not pass through it, and to go round it would be tedious. At last an old man of the company cried out, that no place, however religious, was Inaccessible, if it could contribute to the preservation of Marius. No sooner had he said this, than he took some of the baggage in his hand, and marched through the place. The rest followed with the same alacrity, and when Marius came to the seacoast, he found a vessel provided for him, by one Belaeeus. Some time after he presented a picture, representing this event, to the temple of Marica.f When Marius set sail, the wind drove him to the island of jEneria, where he found Grannius and some other friends, and with them he sailed for Africa. Being in want of fresh * All that was extraordinary in this circumstance wa, that the ass, like the sheep, is seldom seen to drink, t Virgil mentions this nymph, Mn. 7. Et nymplia gentium Laurente Marica. CAIUS MARIUS. 291 water, they were obliged to put in at Sicily, where the Roman Quaestor kept such strict watch, that Marius very narrowly escaped, and no fewer than sixteen of the watermen were killed. From thence he immediately sailed for the island of Meninx, where he tirst heard that his son had escaped with Cathegus, and was gone to implore the succor of Hiempsal, king of Numidia. This gave him some encouragement, and immediately he ventured for Carthage. The Roman governor in Africa, was Sextilius. He had neither received favor nor injury from Marius, but the exile hoped for something from his pity. He was just landed, with a few of his men, when an officer came and thus addressed him: " Marius, I come from the praetor Sextilius, to tell you, that he forbids you to set foot in Africa. If you obey not, he will support the senate's decree, and treat you as a public enemy." Marius, upon hearing this, was struck dumb with grief and in- dignation. He uttered not a word for some time, but stood regarding the officer with a menacing aspect. At length the officer asked him, what answer he should carry to the governor. " Go and tell him," said the unfortunate man with a sigh, "that thou hast seen the exile Marius sitting on the ruins of Carthage." * Thus in the happiest manner in the world, he proposed the fate of that city and bis own as warnings to the praetor. In the meantime, Hiempsal, king of Numidia, was unresolved how to act with respect to young Marius. He treated him in an honorable man- ner at his cor.rt, but whenever he desired leave to depart, found some pretense or other to detain him. At the :ame time it was plain, that these delays did not proceed from any intention of serv- ing him. An accident, however, set him free. The young man was handsome. One of the king's concubines was affected with hismisfor- ' tunes. Pity soon turned to love. At first he re- jected the woman's advances. But when he saw no other way to gain his liberty, and found that her regards were rather delicate than gross, he accepted the tender of her heart; and by her means escaped with his friends, and came to his father. After the first salutations, as they walked along the shore, they saw two scorpions fighting. This appeared to Marius an ill omen: they went, there- fore on board a fishing-boat, and made for Cer- cina, an island nut far distant from the conti- nent. They were scarce got out to sea, when they saw a party of the king's horse on full speed to- ward the place where they embarked: so that Marius thought he never escaped a more instant danger. He was now informed, that while Sylla was engaged in Boeotia with the lieutenants of Mithri- dates, a quarrel had happened between the con- suls at Rome,f and that they had recourse to arms. Octavius, having the advantage, drove out China, who was aiming at absolute power, and appointed Cornelius Merula consul in his room. Cinna collected forces in other parts of Italy, and maintained the war against them. Marius, upon this news, determined to hasten to Cinna. He took with him some Marusian horse, which he had levied in Africa, and a few others that were come to him from Italy, in all not amounting to above one thousand men, and with this handful began his voyage. He arrived at a port of Tus- * There is not, perhnps, anything more noble, or a greater proof of genius, than this saying, in Marius's whole life. t The year of Rome six hundred and sixty-six, and eighty. five years before Christ. Cinna was for recalling the exiles and Octavius was against, it. [cany called Telamon, and as soon as he wasland- ed proclaimed liberty to the slaves. The name of Marius brought down numbers of free- men too, husbandmen, shepherds, and such like, to the shore; the ablest of which he enlisted, and in a short time, had a great army on foot, with which he filled forty ships. He knew Octa- vius to be a man of good principles, and disposed to govern agreeably to justice; but Cinna was ob- noxious to his enemy Sylla, and at that time in open war against the established government. He resolved, therefore, to join Cinna with all his forces. Accordingly he sent to acquaint him, that he considered him as consul, and was ready to obey his commands. Cinna accepted his offer, declared him proconsul, and sent him the fasces and other ensigns of authority. But Marius de- clined them, alleging, that such pomp would not become his ruined fortunes. Instead of that, he wore a mean garment, and let his hair grow, as it had done from the day of his exile. He was now, indeed, upward of seventy years old, but he walked with a pace affectedly slow. This ap- pearance was intended to excite compassion. Yet his native fierceness and something more, might be distinguished amidst all this look of misery: and it was evident that he was not so much humbled, as exasperated by his misfor- tunes. When he had saluted Cinna, and made a speech to the army, he immediately began his opera- tions, and soon changed the face of affairs. In the first place he cut off the enemy's convoys with his fleet, plundered their storeships, and made himself master of the breadcorn. In the next place, he coasted along, and seized the sea- port towns. At last, Ostia itself was betrayed to him. He pillaged the town, slew most of the inhabitants, and threw a bridge over the Tiber, to prevent the carrying of any provisions to Rome by sea. Then he marched to Rome, and posted himself upon the hill called Janicu- lum. Meanwhile, the cause did not suffer so much by the incapacity of Octavius, as by his anxious and unseasonable attention to the laws. For, when many, of his friends advised him to enfran- chise the slaves, he said, " He would not grant such persons the freedom of that city, in de- fense of whose constitution he shutout Marius." But upon the arrival of Metellus, the son of that Metellus who commanded in the African war, and was afterward banished by Marius, the army within the walls leaving Octavius, applied to him, as the better officer, and entreated him to take the command; adding, that they should fight and conquer, wheu they had got an able and ac- tive general. Metellus, however, rejected their suit with indignation, and bade them go back to the consul; instead of which, they went over to the enemy. At the same time, Metellus with- drew, giving up the city for lost. As for Octuvius, he stayed, at the persuasion of certain Chaldaean diviners and expositors of the Sibylline books, who promised him that all would be well. Octavius was indeed one of the most upright men among the Romans: he supported his dignity as consul, without giving any ear to flatterers, and regarded the laws and ancient usages of his country as rules never to be departed from. Yet he had all the weakness of supersti- tion, and spent more of his time with fortune, tel- lers and prognostic ators than with men of politi- cal or military abilities. However, before Mari- us entered the city, Octavius was dragged from the tribunal and slain by persons commissioned 292 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. for that purpose, and it is said that a Chaldsean scheme was found in his bosom as he lay. It seems unaccountable, that of such generals as Marius and Octavius. the one should be saved, and the other ruined, by a confidence in divina- tion. While affairs were in this posture, the senate assembled, and sent some of their own body to China and Marius, with a request that they should come into the city, but spare the inhabitants. Cinna, as consul, received them, sitting in his chair of state, and gave them an obliging answer. But Marius stood by the consul's chair, and spoke not a word. He showed, however, by the gloominess of his look, and the menacing sense of his eye, that he would soon fill the city with blood. Immediately after this, they moved for- ward toward Rome. Cinna entered the city with a strong guard: but Marius stopped at the gates, with a dissimulation dictated by his resentment. He said, " He was a banished man, and the laws prohibited his return. If his country wanted his service, sh must repeal the law which drove him into exile." As if he had a real regard for the laws, or were entering a city still in possession of its liberty. The people, therefore, were summoned to as- semble for that purpose. But before three or four tribes had given their suffrages, he put off the mask, and, without waiting for the formality of a repeal, entered with a guard selected from the slaves that had repaired to his standard. These he called his Bardiaeans.* At the least word or sign given by Marius, they murdered all whom he marked for destruction. So that when Acharius, a senator, and a man of prretorian dig- nity, saluted Marius, and he returned not the sal- utation, they killed him in his presence. After this, they considered this as a signal to kill any man, who saluted Marius in the streets, and was not taken any notice of:*so that his very friends were seized with horror, whenever they went to pay their respects to him. When they had butchered great numbers, Cin- na's revenge began to pall : it was satiated with blood; but the fury of Marius seemed rather to increase: his appetite for slaughter was sharpened by indulgence, and he went on destroying all who gave him the least shadow of suspicion. Every road, every town was full of assassins, pursuing and hunting the unhappy victims. On this occasion it was found, that no obliga- tions of friendship, no rights of hospitality can stand the stock of ill fortune. For there were very few who did not betray those that had taken refuge in their houses. The slaves of Cornutus, therefore, deserve the highest admiration. They hid their master in the house, and took a dead body out of the street from among the slain, and hang- ed it by the neck; then they put a gold ring upon the finger, and showed the corpse in that condition to Marius's executioners; after which they dressed it for the funeral, and buried it as their master's body. No one suspected the matter; and Corn- utus, after being concealed as long as it was neces- sary, was conveyed by those servants into Galatia. Mark Antony the orator likewise found a faith- ful friend, but did not save his life by it. This friend of his was in a low station of life: however, as he had one of the greatest men of Rome under his roof, he entertained him in the best manner he could, and often sent to a neighbcring tavern * M. De Thou conjectured that we should read Bardyetse, because there was a fierce and barbarous people in Spain of that name. Some manuscripts have Or titans. for wine for him. The vintner finding that <h servant who fetched it was something of a con- noisseur in tasting the wine, and insisted on hav- ing better, asked him, "Why he was not satisfied with the common new wine he used to have; but he wanted the best and the dearest? " The ser- vant, in the simplicity of his heart, told him, as his friend and acquaintance, that the wine was for Mark Antony, who lay concealed in his master's house. As soon as he was gone, the knowing vintner went himself to Marius, who was then at supper, and told him he could put Antony into his power. Upon which, Marius clapped his hands in the agitation of joy, and would even have left his company, and gone to the place himself, hacf. not he been dissuaded by his friends. However, he sent an officer, named Annius, with some sol- diers, and ordered him to bring the head of An- tony. When they came to the house, Annius stood at the door, while the soldiers got up by a ladder into Antony's chamber. When they saw him, they encouraged each other to the execu- tion: but such was the power of his eloquence, when he pleaded for his life, that so far from lay- ing hands upon him, they stood motionless, with dejected eyes, and wept. During this delay, An- nius goes up, beholds Antony addressing the sol- diers, and the soldiers confounded by the force of his address. Upon this, he reproved them for their weakness, and with his own hand cut off the orator's head. Lutatitus Catulus, the col- league of Marius, who had jointly triumphed with him over the Cimbri, finding that every interces- sory effort was vain, shut himself up in a narrow chamber, and suffered himself to be suffocated by the steam of a large coal fire. When the bodies were thrown out and trod upon in the streets, it was not pity they excited; it was horror and dis- may. But what shocked the people much more, was the conduct of the Bardieeans, who, after * they had murdered the masters of families, ex- posed the nakedness of their children, and indulg- ed their passions with their wives. In short, their violence and rapacity were beyond all restraint, until Cinna and Sertorius determined in council, to fall upon them in their sleep, and cut them off to a man. About this time the tide of affairs took a sud- den turn. News was brought that Sylla had put an end to the Mithridatic war, and that after hav- ing reduced the provinces, he was returning to Rome with a large army. This gave a short res- pite, a breathing from these inexpressible troubles; as the apprehensions of war had been universally prevalent. Marius was now chosen consul the seventh time, and as he was walking out on the calends of January, the first day of the year, he ordered Sextus Lucinus to be seized, and thrown down the Tarpeian rock; a circumstance, which occasioned an unhappy presage of. approaching evils. The consul himself, worn out with a series of misfortunes and distress, found his faculties fail, and trembled at the approach of wars and conflicts. For he considered that it was not an Octavius, a Merula, the desperate leaders of a small sedition, he had to contend with, but Sylla, the conqueror of Mithridates; and the banisher of Marius. Thus agitated, thus revolving the miser- ies, the fights, the dangers he had experienced both by land and sea, his inquietude affected him even by night, and a voice seemed continually to pronounce in his ear: Dread are the slumbers of the distant lion. Unable to support the painfulness of watching, he had recourse to the bottle, and gave in to i,hos LYSANDER. 293 excesses which by no means suited his years. At last, when by intelligence from sea, he was con- vinced of the approach of Sylla, his apprehensions were hightened to the greatest degree. The dread of his approach, the pain of continual anxiety, threw him into a pleuritic fever; and in this state, Posidonius, the philosopher, tells us he found him, when he went to speak to him, on some affairs of his embassy. But Cains Piso the historian re- lates, that walking out with his friend one evening at supper, he gave them a short history of his life, and after expatiating on the uncertainty of fortune, concluded that it was beneath the dignity of a wise man to live in subjection to that fickle deity. Upon this he took leave of his friends, and betak- ing himself to his bed, died seven days after. There are those who impute his death to* the excess of his ambition, which, according to their account threw him into a delirium; insomuch that he fan- cied he was carrying on the war against Mithri- dates, and uttered all the expressions used in an engagement. Such was the violence of his am- bition for that command! Thus, at the age of seventy, distinguished by the unparalleled honor of seven consulships, and possessed of more than regal fortune, Marius died with the chagrin of an unfortunate wretch, who had not obtained what he wanted. Plato, at the point of death, congratulated him- self, in the first place, that he was born a man; in the next place, that he had the happiness of being a Greek, not a brute or barbarian; and last of all, that he was the contemporary of Sophocles. Antipater, of Tarsus, too, a little before his death, recollected the several advantages of his life, not forgetting even his successful voyage to Athens. In settling his accounts with Fortune, he carefully entered every agreeable circumstance in that ex- cellent book of the mind, his memory. How much wiser, how much happier than those, who forgetful of every blessing they have received hang on the vain and deceitful hand of hope, and while they are idly grasping at future acquisitions, neglect the enjoy- ment of the present! though the future gifts of fortune are not in their power, and though their present possessions are not in the power of fortune, they look up to the former and neglect the latter. Their punishment, however, is not less just than it is certain. Before philosophy and the cultiva- tion of reason have laid a proper foundation for the management of wealth and power, they pur- sue them with that avidity, which must forever harass an undisciplined mind. Marius died on the seventeenth day of his seventh consulship. His death was productive of the greatest joy in Rome, and the citizens looked upon it as an event that freed them from the worst of tyrannies. It was not long however, before they found that they had changed an old and feeble tyrant, for one who had yjputh and vigor to carry his cruelties into execution. Such they found the son of Marius, whose sanguinary spirit showed itself in the destruction of numbers of the nobility. His martial intrepidity and fero- cious behavior at first procured him the title of the son of Mars, but his conduct afterward de- nominated him the son of Venus. When he was besieged in Preneste, and had tried every little ar- tifice to escape, he put an end to his life, that he might not fall into the hands of Sylla. LYSANDER. AMONG the sacred deposits of the Acanthians at Delphi, one has this inscription, BRASIDAS AND THE ACANTHI: TOOK THIS FROIM THE ATHENIANS.* Hence many are of the opinion, that the marble statue, which stands in the chapel of that nation, just by the door, is the statue of Brasidas. But in fact it is Lysander's, whom it perfectly represents with his hair at full growtb,f and a length of beard, both after the ancient fashion. It is not true, in- deed (us some would have it), that while the Ar- gives cut their hair in sorrow for the loss of a great battle, the Lacedaemonians began to let theirs grow in the joy of success. Nor did they first give in to this custom, when the-Bacchidse fled from Corinth to Lacedasmon, and nmde a dis- agreeable appearance with their shorn locks. But it is derived from the institution of Lycuigus, who is reported to have said, that long hair makes the kandsome nwre beautiful, and the ugly more terri- ble. * Brnsidas, when general of the Lacedemonians, per- suaded the people of Acanthus to quit the Athenian inter- est, and to receive the Spartans int.o their city. In conse- quence of which, he joined with them in consecrating certain Athenian spoils to Apollo. The statue, therefore, probably was his, though Plutarch thinks otherwise. Vide Thucyd. lib. iv. t VVhv might not Brasidas, who was a Lacedaemonian, and a contemporary of Lysander, be represented with long hair as well as he? J This was the opinion of Herodotus, but perfectly roumUess. { The Bacchiada hart kept up an oligarchy in Corinth Aristoclitus,* the father of Lysander, is said not to have been of the royal line, but to he descended from the Heraclida? by another family. As for Lysander, he was bred up in poverty. No one conformed more freely to the Spartan discipline than he. He had a firm heart, above yielding to the charms of any pleasure except that which re- sults from the honor and success gained by great actions. And it was no fault at Sparta for young men to be led by this sort of pleasure. There they chose to instill into their children an early passion for glory, and teach them to be much af- fected by disgrace, as well as elated by praise. And he that is not moved at these things is despised as a person of a mean soul, unambitious of the improvements of virtue. That love of fame, then, and jealousy of honor, which ever influenced Lysander, were imbibed in his education; and consequently nature is not to be blamed for them. But the attention which he gaid the great, in a manner that did not become a parlan, and that easiness with which he bore the pride of power, whenever his own interest was con- cerned, may be ascribed to his disposition. This complaisance, however, is considered by some as no small part of politics. Aristotle somewhere observes,! that great ge- for two hundred years, but were at last expelled by Cypie lus, who made himself absolute master there. HerodotA.v * Pausanias calls him Aristocritus. t Problem, sect. 30. 294 PLUTARCH'S LIVES niuses are generally of a melancholy turn, of which he gives instances in Socrates, Plato, and Hercules; and he tells us that Lysander, though not in his youth, yet in his age, was inclined to it. But what is most peculiar in his character is, that though he bore poverty well himself, and was never either conquered or corrupted by money, yet he filled Sparta with it, and with the love of it too, and robbed her of the glory she had of de- spising riches. For, after the Athenian war, he brought in a great quantity of gold and silver, but reserved no part of it for himself. And when Dionysius the tyrant sent his daughters some rich Sicilian garments, he refused them, alleging, "He was afraid those fine clothes would make them look more homely." Being sent however, soon after, ambassador to Dionysius, the tyrant offered him two vests, that he might take one of them for his daughter; upon which he said, "His daughter knew better how to choose than he," and so took them both. As the Peloponnesian war was drawn out to a great length, the Athenians, after their overthrow ki Sicily, saw their fleets driven out of the sea, and themselves upon the verge of ruin. But Alcibi- ades, on his return from banishment, applied him- self to remedy this evil, and soon made such a change, that the Athenians were once more equal in naval conflicts to the Lacedemonians. Here- upon, the Lacedaemonians began to be afraid in their turn; and resolved to prosecute the war with double diligence; and as they saw it required an able general, as well as great preparations, they gave the command at sea to Lysander.* When he came to Ephesus, he found that city well inclined to the Lacedemonians, but in a bad condition as to its internal policy, and in danger of falling into the barbarous manners of the Per- sians: because it was near Lydia, and the king's lieutenants often visited it. Lysander, therefore, having fixed his quarteft there, ordered all his store-ships to be brought into their harbor, and built a dock for his galleys. By these means he filled their port with merchants, their market with business, and their houses and shops with money. So that, from time and from his services, Ephesus began to conceive hopes of that greatness and splendor in which it now flourishes. As soon as he heard that Cyrus the king's son was arrived at Sardis, he went thither to confer with him, and to acquaint him with the treachery of Tisaphernes. That viceroy had an order to as- sist the Lacedemonians, and to destroy the naval force of the Athenians; but, by reason of his par- tiality to Alcibiades, he acted with no vigor, and sent such poor supplies, that the fleet was almost | ruined. Cyrus was very glad to find this charge | against Tisaphernes. knowing him to be a man of bad character in general, and an enemy to him in particular. By this and the rest of his conversa- tion, bu, most of all by the respect and attention which he paid him, Lysander recommended him- self to the young prince, and engaged him to prosecute the war. When the Lacedaemonian was going to take his leave, Cyrus desired him, at an entertainment provided on that occasion, not to refuse the marks of his regard, but to ask some favor of him. "As you are so very kind to me," said Lysander, "I beg you would add an obolus to the seamen's pay, so that instead of three oboli a day, they may have four." Cyrus, charmed with this generous answer, made him a present of ten thousand pieces of gold. Lysander employed the * In the first year of the ninety-eighth Olympiad, four indred and six years before Christ. hundred money to increase the wages of his men, and by this encouragement in a short time almost emptied the enemy's ships. For great numbers came over to him, when they knew they shouid have better pay; and those who remained became indolent and mutinous, and gave their officers conMnual trouble. But though Lysander had thus drained and weakened his adversaries, he was afraid to risk a naval engagement, knowing Alcibiades not only to be a commander of extraordinary abilities, but to have the advantage in number of ships, as well as to have been successful in all the battles he had fought, whether by sea or land. However, when Alcibiades was gone from Sa- mos to Phocea, and had left the command of the fleet to his pilot. Antiochus the pilot, to insult Ly- sander, and show his own bravery, sailed to the har- bor of Ephesus with two galleys only, where he hail- ed the Lacedaemonian fleet with a great deal of noise and laughter, and passed by in the most insolent man- ner imaginable. Lysander, resenting the affront, got a few of his ships under sail, and gave chase. But when he saw the Athenians come to support Antio- chus, he called up more of his galleys, and at last the action became general. Lysander gained the vic- tory, took fifteen ships, and erected a trophy. Hereupon the people of Athens, incensed at Alci- biades, took the command from him; and, as he found himself slighted and censured by the army at Samos too, he quitted it, and withdrew to Chersonesus. This battle, though not considera- ble in itself, was made so by the misfortunes of Alcibiades. Lysander now invited to Ephesus the boldest and most enterprising inhabitants of the Greek cities in Asia, and sowed among them the seeds of those aristocratical forms of government which afterward took place. He encouraged them to en- ter into associations, and to turn their thoughts to politics, upon promise that when Athens was once subdued, the popular government in their cities too should be dissolved, and the administration vested in them. His actions gave them a confi- dence in his promise. For those who were alrea- dy attached to him by friendship or the rights of hospitality, he advanced to the highest honors and employments; not scrupling to join with them in any act of fraud or oppression, to satisfy their avarice and ambition. So that every one endeav- ored to ingratiate himself with Lysander; to him they paid their court; they fixed their hearts upon him; persuaded that nothing was too great for them to expect, while he had the management of affairs. Hence it was, that from the first they looked with an ill eye on Callicratidas, who suc- ceeded him in the command of the fleet: and though they afterward found him the best ana most upright of men, they were not satisfied with his conduct, which they thought had too much of the Doricf plainness and sincerity. It is true, they admired the virtue of Callicratidas, as they would the beauty of some hero's statue; but they wanted the countenance, the indulgence, and support they had experienced in Lysander, insomuch that when he left them, they were quite dejected, and melted into tears. Indeed he took every method he could think of to strengthen their aversion to Callicratidas. He even sent back to Sardis the remainder of the money which Cyrus had given him for the sup- ply of the fleet; and bade his successor go and ask for it, as he had done, or contrive some othoi Darici. t Dacier refers t.h's to the Dorian music. But the Dor! lanners had a simplicity in them, as well as the music. LYSANDER. 295 /neans for the maintenance of his forces. And when he was upon the point of sailing, he made Ihis declaration, " I deliver to you a fleet that is mistress of the seas." Callicratidas, willing to show the insolence and vanity of his boast, said, " Why do not you then take Samos on the left, and sail round to Miletus, and deliver the fleet to me there? for we need not be afraid of passing by our enemies in that island if we are masters of the seas." Lysander made only this superficial answer, "You have the command of the ships, and not I; " and immediately set sail for Peloponnesus. Callicratidas was left in great difficulties. For he had not brought money from home with him, nor did he choose to raise contributions from the cities, which were already distressed. The only way left, therefore, was to go, as Lysander had done, and beg it of the king's lieutenants. And no one was more unfit for such an office, than a man of his free and great spirit, who thought any loss that Grecians might sustain from Grecians, preferable to an abject attendance at the doors of barbarians, who had indeed a great deal of gold, but nothing else to boast of. Necessity, however, forced him into Lydia; wlrere he went directly to the palace of Cyrus, and bade the porters tell him, that Callicratidas, the Spartan admiral, desired to speak to him. " Stranger," said one of the fellows. "Cyrus is not at leisure; he is drinking." " 'Tis very well," said Callicratidas, with great simplicity, "I will wait here until he has done." But when he found that these peo- ple considered him as a rustic, and only laughed at him, he went away. He came a second time, and could not gain admittance. And now he could bear it no longer, but returned to Ephesus, venting execrations against those who first cring- ed to the barbarians, and taught them to be inso- lent, on account of their wealth. At the same time he protested, that as soon as he was got back to Sparta, he would use his utmost endeavors to reconcile the Grecians among themselves, and to make them formidable to the barbarians, instead of their poorly petitioning those people for assist- ance against each other. But this Callicratidas, who had sentiments so worthy of a Spartan, and who, in point of justice, magnanimity, and valor, was equal to the best of the Greeks, fell soon after in a sea fight at Arginusa?, where he lost the day. Affairs being now in a declining condition, the confederates sent an embassy to Sparta, to desire that the command of the navy might be re- stored to Lysander, promising to support the cause with much greater vigor, if he had the di- rection of it. Cyrus, too, made the same requi- sition. But as the law forbade the same person to be chosen admiral twice, and yet the Lacedaemon- ians were willing to oblige their allies, they vest- ed a nominal command in one Aracus, while Ly- sander, who was called lieutenant, had the power. His arrival was very agreeable to those who had, or wanted to have, the chief authority in the Asiatic cities: for he had long given them hopes, that the democracy would be abolished, and the government devolve entirely upon them. As for those who loved an open and generous proceeding, when they compared Lysander and Callicratidas, the former appeared only a man of craft and subtilty, who directed his operations by a set of artful expedients, and measured the value of justice by the advantage it brought: who, in short, thought interest the thing of superior ex- cellence, and that nature had made no difference between truth and falsehood, but either was re- cojnmended by its use. When he was told, it did not become the descendants of Hercules to adopt such artful expedients, he turned it off with a jest, and said, " Where the lion's skin falls short, it must be eked out with the fox's." There was a remarkable instance of this subtil- ty in his behavior at Miletus. His friends and others with whom he had connections there, who had promised to abolish the popular government, and to drive out all that favored it, had changed their minds, and reconciled themselves to their adversaries. In public he pretended to rejoice at the event, and to cement the union; but in pri- vate he loaded them with reproaches, and excited them to attack the commons. However, when he knew the tumult was begun, he entered the city in haste, and running up to the leaders of the sedition, gave them a severe reprimand, and threatened to punish them in an exemplary manner. At the same time, he desired the people to be per- fectly easy, and to fear no farther disturbance while he was there. In all which he acted only like an artful dissembler, to hinder the heads of the plebeian party from quitting the city, and to make sure of their being put to the sword there. Accordingly, there was not a man that trusted to his honor, who did not lose his life. There is a saying, too, of Lysander's, record- ed by Androclides, which shows the little regard he had for oaths: " Children," he said, " were to be cheated with cockalls, and men with oaths." In this he followed the example of Polycrates, of Samos; though it ill became a general of an arrny to imitate a tyrant, and was unworthy of a Lacedaemonian to hold the gods in a more con- temptible light than even his enemies. For he who overreaches by a false oath, declares that ho fears his enemy, but despises his God. Cyrus, having sent for Lysander to Sardis, pre- sented him with great sums, and promised more. Nay, to show how high.he was in his favor, he went so far as to assure him, that, if his father would give him nothing, he would supply him out of his own fortune; and if everything else failed, he would melt down the very throne on which he sat when he administered justice, and which was all of massy gold and silver. And when he went to attend his father in Media, ho assigned him the tribute of the towns, and put the care of his whole province in his hands. At parting he embraced, and entreated him not to en- gage the Athenians at sea before his return, be- cause he intended to bring with him a great fleet out of Phoenicia and Cilicia. After the departure of the prince, Lysander did not choose to fight the enemy, who were not in- ferior to him in force, nor yet to lie idle with such a number of ships, and therefore he cruised about and reduced some islands. ^Egina and Salamis he pillaged; and from thence sailed to Attica, where he waited on Agis, who was come down from Decelea to the coast, to show his land forces what a powerful navy there was, which gave them the command of the seas in a manner they could not have expected. Lysander, however, seeing the Athenians in chase of him, steered another way back through the islands to Asia. As he found the Hellespont unguarded, he attack- ed Lampsacus by sea, while Thorax made an as- sault upon it by land; in consequence of which the city was taken, and the plunder given to the troops. In the meantime the Athenian fleet, which consisted of a hundred and twenty ships, had advanced to Eleus, a city in the Chersone- sus. There getting intelligence that Lampsacus was lost, they sailed immediately to Sestos; where they took in provisions, and then proceeded to 296 PLU TARCH'S LIVES jEgos Potamos. They were now just opposite the enemy, who still lay at anchor near Lampsa- cus. The Athenians were under the command of several officers, among whom Philocles was one; the same who persuaded the people to make a decree that the prisoners of war should have their right thumbs cut off, that they might be dis- abled from handling a pike, but still be service- able, at the oars. For the present they all went to rest, in hopes of coming to an action next day. But Lysander had another design. He commanded the seamen and pilots to go on board, as if he intended to fiirhtat break of day. These were to wait in si- lence for orders, the land forces were to form on the shore, and watch the signal. At sunrise the Athenians drew up in a line directly before the Lacedaemonians, and gave the challenge. Ly- sander, though he had manned his ships over night, and stood facing the enemy, did not ac- cept of it. On the contrary, he sent orders by his pinnaces to those ships that were in the van, not to stir, but to keep the line without making the least motion. In the evening, when the Athenians retired, he would not suffer one man to land, until two or three galleys which he had sent to look out, returned with an account that the enemy were disembarked. Next morning they arranged themselves in the same manner, and the like was practiced a day or two longer. This made the Athenians very confident; they consid- ered their adversaries as a dastardly set of men, who durst not quit their station. Meanwhile, Alcibiades, who lived in a castle of his own in the Chersonesus, rode to the Athenian camp, and represented to the generals two mate- rial errors they had committed. The first was, that they had stationed their ships near a danger- ous and naked shore: the other, that they were so far from Sestos, from whence they were forced to fetch all their provisions. He told them, it wits their business to sail to the port of Sestos, without loss of time; where they would be at a greater distance from the enemy who were watch- ing their opportunity with an army commanded by one man, and so well disciplined that they would execute his orders upon the least signal. These were the lessons he gave them, but they did not regard him. Nay, Tydeus said, with an air of contempt, " You are not general, now, but we." Alcibiades even suspected some treach- ery, and therefore withdrew. On the fifth day, when the Athenians had offer- ed battle, they returned, as usual, in a careless and disdainful manner. Upon this, Lysander de- tached some galleys to observe them; and ordered the officers, as soon as they saw the Athenians landed, to sail back as fast as possible; and when they were come half way, to lift up a bra- zen shield at the head of each ship, as a signal for him to advance. He then sailed through all the line, and gave instructions to the captains and pilots to have all their men in good order, as well mariners as soldiers; and, when the signal was given, to push forward with the utmost vigor against the enemy. As soon, therefore, as the signal appeared the trumpet sounded in the admi- ral galley, the ships began to move on, and the land forces hastened along the shore to seize the promontory. The space between the two conti- nents in that place is fifteen furlongs, which was BOOH overshot by the diligence and spirits of the rowers. Conon, the Athenian general, was the first that descried them from land, and hastened to get his men on board. Sensible of the impend- ing danger some he commanded, some he en- reated, and others he forced into the ships. Bu all his endeavors were in vain. His men, not in the least expecting a surprise, were dispersed up and down, some in the market-place, some in the field; some were asleep in their tents, and orne preparing their dinner. All this was owing to the inexperience of their commanders, which ~iad made them quite regardless of what might mppen. The shouts and the noise of the enemy rushing on to the attack were now heard, when "onon fled with eight ships, and escaped to Eva- goras, king of Cyprus. The Peloponnesians fell upon the rest, took those that were empty, and disabled the others, as the Athenians were embarking. Their soldiers, coining unarmed, and in a straggling manner to defend the ships, per- ished in the attempt, and those that fled were slain by that part of the enemy which had land- ed. Lysander took three thousand prisoners, and seized the whole fleet, except the sacred galley called Peralus, and those that escaped with Co- non. When he had fastened the captive galleys to his own, and plundered the camp, he returned to Lampsacus, accompanied with the flutes and songs of triumph. This great action cost him but little blood; in one hour he put an end to a long and tedious war,* which had been diversified be- yond all others by an incredible variety of events. This cruel war, which had occasioned so many battles, appeared in such different forms, pro- duced such vicissitudes of fortune, and destroyed more generals than all the wars of Greece put to- gether, was terminated by the conduct and capa- city of one man. Some, therefore, esteemed il the effect of a divine interposition. There were those who said, that the stars of Castor and Pol- lux appeared on each side of the helm of Lysan- der's ship, when he first set out against the Athe- nians. Others thought that a stone which, ac- cording to the common opinion, fell from heaven, was an omen of this overthrow. It fell at JEgos Potamos, and was of a prodigious size. The peo- ple of the Chersonesus, hold it in great venera- tion, and show it to this day.f It is said that An- axagoras had foretold, that one of those bodies which are fixed in the vault of heaven would one day be loosened by some shock or convulsion of the whole machine, and fall to the earth. For he taught that the stars are not now in the places where they were originally formed; that being of a stony substance, and heavy, the light they give is caused only by the reflection and refraction of the ether; and that they are carried along, and kept in their orbits, by the rapid motion of the heavens, which from the beginning, when tno cold ponderous bodies were separated from the rest, hindered them from falling. But there is another and more probable opinion, which holds, that falling stars are not emanations or detached parts of the elementary fire, that go out the moment they are kindled; nor yet a quan- tity of air bursting out from some compression, and taking fire in the upper region; but that they are really heavenly bodies, which, from some re- laxation "of the rapidity of their motion, or In some irregular concussion, are loosened, and fall not so much upon the habitable part of the globe as into the ocean, which is the reason that theii substance is seldom seen. Darnachus,t however, in his treatise concerning * This war had lasted twenty-seven years. t This victory was gained the fourth year of the ninety third Olympiad, four hundred and three years before the birth of Christ. And it is pretended that Anaxagoras had delivered his prediction sixty-two years before the battle. Plin. xi. 58. t Not Damachus, but Diamachus of Plateea, a very fabo religion, confirms the opinion of Anaxagoras. He relates, that for seventy-five days together, before that stone fell, there was seen in the heavens a large body of fire, like an inflamed cloud, not fixed to one place, but curried this way and that with a broken and irregular motion; and that by its vio- lent agitation, several fiery fragments were forced from it, which were impelled in various directions, and darted with the celeritj 7 and brightness of so many falling stars. After this body was fallen in the Chersonesus, and the inhabitants, recovered from their terror, assembled to see it, they could find no inflammable matter, or the least sign of fire, but a real stone, which, though large, was nothing' to the size of that fiery globe they had seen in the sky, but appeared only as a bit crum- bled from it. It is plain that Damachus must have very indulgent readers, if this account of his gains credit. If it is a true one, it absolutely refutes those who say, that tins stone was nothing but a rock rent by a tempest* from the top of a moun- tain, which, after being borne for some time in the air by a whirlwind, settled in the first place where the violence of that abated. Perhaps, at last, this phenomenon, which continued so many days, was a real globe of fire; and when that globe came to disperse and draw toward extinc- tion, it might cause such a change in the air, and produce such a violent whirlwind, as tore the stone from its native bed, and dashed it on the plain. But these are discussions that belong to writings of another nature. When the three thousand Athenian prisoners were condemned by the council to die, Lysander called Philocles, one of the generals, and asked him what punishment he thought he deserved, who had given his citizens such cruel advice with respect to the Greeks. Philocles, undismayed by his misfortunes, made answer, " Do not start a question where there is no judge to decide it; but now yon are a conqueror, proceed as you would have been proceeded with, had you been con- quered." After this he bathed, and dressed him- self in a rich robe, and then led his countrymen to execution, being the first, according to Theo- phrastus, who offered his neck to the ax. Lysander next visited the maritime towns, and ordered all the Athenians he found, upon pain of death to repair to Athens. His design was, that the crowds he drove into the city might soon occasion a famine., and so prevent the trouble of a k)ng siege, which must have been the case, if pro- visions had been plentiful. Wherever he came, he abolished the democratic, and other forms of government, and set up a Lacedaemonian governor, called Harmosies, assisted by ten Archons, who were to be drawn from the societies he established. These changes he made as he sailed about at his leisure, not only in the enemy's cities, but in those of his allies, and by this means in a manner engrossed to himself the principality of all Greece. For iu appointing governors he had no regard to family or opulence, but chose them from among his own friends, or out of the brotherhoods he had erected, and invested them with full power of life and death. He even assisted in person, at executions, and drove out all that opposed his friends and favorites. Thus he gave the Greeks a very indifferent specimen of the Lacedaemonian government. Therefore, Theopompus,* the co- lous writer, and ignorant of the mathematics: in which, as well as history, he pretended to great knowledge. Strab. lib. i. * Muretus shows, from a passage in Theodorus Metochi- tes, that we should read here Thcopmnpus the historian, in- itead of Thcopoinpun the comic writer. LYSANDER. 297 tnic writer, was under a great mistake, when he compared the Lacedaemonians to vintners, who at first gave Greece a delightful draught of liberty, but afterward dashed the wine with vinegar. The draught from the beginning was disagreeable and jitter: for Lysander not only took the adminis- tration out of the hands of the people, but com- posed his oligarchies of the boldest and most fac- tious of the citizens. When he had dispatched this business, which did not take up any long time, he sent messen- gers to Lacedaemon, with an account that he was returning with two hundred ships. He went, lowever, to Attica, where he joined the kings Agisand Pausanias, in expectation of the imme- diate surrender of Athens. But finding that the Athenians made a vigorous defense, lie crossed over again to Asia. There he made the same alteration in the government of cities, and set up his decemvirate, after having sacrificed in each city a number of people, and forced others to quit their country. As for the Samians,* he expelled them all, and delivered their towns to the persons whom they had banished. And when he had taken Sestos out of the hands of the Athenians, he drove out the Sestians too, and divided both the city and territory among his pilots and boat- swains. This was the first step of his which the Lacedaemonians disapproved: they annulled what he had done, and restored the Sestians to their country. But in other respects the Grecians were well satisfied with Lysander's conduct. They saw with pleasure the .ZEgineta? recovering their city, of which they had long been dispossessed, and the Melians and Scioneeans re-established by him, while the Athenians were driven out, and gave up their claims. By this time, he was informed that Athens was greatly distressed with famine; upon which he sailed to the Piraeus, and obliged the city to sur- render at discretion. The Lacedaemonians sav, that Lysander wrote an account of it to the ephori in these words, " Athens is taken;" to which they returned this answer, " If it is taken, that is suf- ficient." But this was only an invention to make the matter look more plausible. The real decree of the ephori ran thus: " The Lacedaemonians have come to these resolutions: You shall pull down the Piraeus and the long walls; quit all the cities you are possessed of, and keep within the bounds of Attica. On these conditions you shall have peace, provided you pay what is reasonable, and restore the exiles.f As for the number of ships you are to keep, you must comply with the orders we shall give you." The Athenians submitted to this decree, upon the advice of Theramenes, the son of Ancon.J On this occasion we are told, Cleomenes, one of the- young orators, thus addressed him: "Dare you go contrary to the sentiments of Themisto- cles, by delivering up those walls to the Lacedae- monians, which he built in defiance of them?" Theramenes answered, "Young man, I do not in the least counteract the intention of Thernistocles; for he built the walls for the preservation of the citizens, and we for the same purpose demolish them. If walls only could make a city happy These things did not happen in the order they are here related. Samos was not taken until a considerable time after the long walls of Athens were demolished. Zenopli. Hellen.ii. t The Lacedemonians knew that if the Athenian exile* we'e restored, they would be friends and partisans of theirs; and if they were not restored, they should have a pretext for distressing the Athenians when "they pleased. t Or Agnon. 298 PLUTARCH'S LIVES and secure, Sparta, which has none, would be the unhappiest in the world." After Lysander had taken from the Athenians all their ships except twelve, and their fortifica- tions were delivered up to him, he entered the city on the sixteenth of the month Munychion (April); the very day they had overthrown the barbarians in the naval fight at Salamis. He presently set himself to change their form of government: and finding that the people resented his proposal, he told them, " That they had violated the terms of their capitulation; for their walls were still stand- ing, after the time fixed for the demolishing of them was passed; and that, since they had broken the first articles, they must expect new ones from the council." Some say, he really did propose, in the council of the allies, to reduce the Athenians to slavery; and that Erianthus, a Theban officer, gave it as his opinion, that the city should be le- veled with the ground, and the spot on which it stood turned to pasturage. Afterward, however, when the general officers met at an entertainment, a musician of Phocis happened to begin a chorus in the Electra of Eu- ripides, the first lines of which are these: Unhappy daughter of the great Atrides, Thy straw-erown'd palace I approach. The whole company were greatly moved at this incident, and couid not help reflecting, how bar- barous a thing it would be to raze that noble city, which had produced so many great and illustrious men. Lysander, however, finding the Athenians entirely in his power, collected the musicians in the city, and having joined to them the band be- longing to the camp, pulled down the walls and burned the ships, to the sound of their instru- ments; while the confederates, crowned with flowers, danced, and hailed the day as the drst of their liberty. Immediately after this, he changed the form of their government, appointing thirty archons in the city, and ten in the Piraeus, and placing a gar- rison in the citadel, the command of which he gave to a Spartan, named Callibius. This Cal- libius, on some occasion or other, lifted up his staff to strike Autolycus, a wrestler whom Xeno- phon has mentioned in his Symposiacs; upon which Autolycus seized him by the legs, and threw him upon the ground. Lysander, instead of resenting this, told Callibius, by way of repri- mand, " He knew not they were freemen whom he had to govern." The thirty tyrants, however, in complaisance to Callibius, soon after put Au- tolycus to death. Lysander,* when he had settled these affairs, sailed to Thrace. f As for the money that remain- ed in his coffers, the crowns and other presents, which were many and very considerable, as may well be imagined, since his power was so exten- sive, and he was in a manner master of all Greece, he sent them to Lacedsemon by Gylippus, who had the chief command in Sicily. Gylippus, they tell us, opened the bags at the bottom, and took a considerable sum out of each, and then sewed them up again; but he was not aware that in every bag there was a note which gave account of the sum it contained. As soon as he arrived at Sparta Xenophon says, he went now against Same lie Lv'. of the inhabitants as had been in the interest of Athens. This is related by Polyamus. But as Plutarch tells us af- terward that he behaved in this manner to the Milesians, perhaps the story is .he same, and there may be a mistake only in the names. 1 Xenophon says, he went now against Samos. t Pluiarch should have mentioned in this place the con- uest. of the isle of Thnsos, and in what a cruel manner sander. contrary to his solemn promise, massacred such he hid the money he had taken out, under th tiles of his house, and then delivered the bags to the. ephori, with the seals entire. They opened them, and counted the money, but found that the sums differed from the bills. At this they were not a little embarrassed, until a servant of Gylip- pus told them enigmatically, "agreat number of owls roosted in the Ceramicus.*" Most of the coin then bore the impression of an owl, in respect to the Athenians. Gylippus, having sullied his former great and glorious actions by so base and unworthy a deed, quitted Lacedremon. On this occasion, in parti- cular, the wisest among the Spartans observed the influence of money, which could corrupt not only the meanest but the most respectable citizens, and therefore were very warm in their reflections upon Lysander for introducing it. They insisted, too, that the ephori should send out all the silver and gold, #s evils destructive in the proportion they were alluring. In pursuance of this, a council was called, and a decree proposed by Sciraphidas, as Theopompvts writes, or, according to Ephorns, by Phlogidas, "That no coin, whether of gold or silver, should be admitted into Sparta, but that they should use the money that had long obtained." This money was of iron, dipped in vinegar, while it was red hot, to make it brittle and unmalleable, so that it might not be applied to any other use. Beside, it was heavy, and difficult of carriage, and a great quantity of it was of but little value. Perhaps all the ancient money was of this kind, and con- sisted either of pieces of iron or brass, which from their form were called ouelisci, whence we have still a quantity of small money called oboli, six of which make a drachma or handful, that being as much as the hand can contain. The motion for sending out the money was opposed by Lysander's party, and they procured a decree, that it should be considered as the public treasure, that it should be a capital crime to con- vert any of it to private uses, as if Lycurgus had been afraid of the money, and not of the avarice it produces. And avarice was not so much pre- vented by forbidding the use of money in the occa- sions of private persons, as it was encouraged by allowing it in the public; for that added dignity to its use, and excited strong desires for its ac- quisition. Indeed, it was not to be imagined, that while it was valued in pui>lic it would be despised in private, or that what they found so ad- vantageous to the state should be looked upon of no concern to themselves. On the contrary, it is plain, that customs depending upon national in- stitutions, much sooner affect the lives and man- ners of individuals, than the errors and vices of individuals corrupt a whole nation. For, when the whole is distempered, the parts must be affect- ed too; but when the disorder subsists only in some particular parts, it may be corrected and remedied by those that have not yet received the infection. So that these magistrates, while they set guards, I mean law and fear of punishment, at the doors of the citizens, to hinder the entrance of money, did not keep their minds untainted with the love of it; they rather inspired that love, by exhibiting wealth as a great and amiable thing. But we have censured this conduct of theirs in another place. Lysander, out of the spoils he had taken, erect- ed at Delphi his own statue, and those of his officers, in brass: he also dedicated in gold the * Ceramicus was the name of a place in Athens. It like- wise signifies the tiling of a house. L " S AND ER. 299 stars of Castor and Pollux, which disappeared * before the battle of Leuctra. The galley made of gold and ivory ,f which Cyrus sent in congra- tulation of his victory, and Which was two cubits long, was placed in the treasury of the Bracides and the-Acanthians. Alexandrides of Delphi writes,^ that Lysander deposited there a talent of silver, fifty-two mirue, and eleven staters: but this is not agreeable to the accounts of his poverty we have from all historians. Though Lysander had now attained to greater power than any Grecian before him, yet the pride and loftiness of his heart exceeded it. For he was the first of the Grecians, according to Duns, to whom altars were erected by several cities, and sacrifices offered, as to a god. To Lysander two hymns were first sung, one of which began thus To the famed leader of the Grecian bands, From Sparta's ample plains! sing lo pecan! Nay, the Samians decreed that the feast which they had used to celebrate in honor of Juno, should be called the feast of Lysander. He al- ways kept the Spartan poet Choerilus in his re- tinue, || that he might be ready to add luster to his actions by the power of verse. And when Anti- lochus had written some stanzas in his praise, he was so delighted that he gave him his hat full of silver. Antimachus of Colophon, and Niceratus of ^Eraclea, composed each a panegyric that bore his name, and contested in form for the prize. He adjudged the crown to Niceratus, at which Antimachuslf was so much offended that he sup- pressed his poem. Plato, who was then very young, and a great admirer of Antimachus's poetry, addressed him while under this chagrin, and told him, by way of consolation, " That the ignorant are sufferers by their ignorance, as the blind are by their want of sight." Aristonous, the lyrist, who had six times won the prize at the Pythian games, to pay his court to Lysander. pro- mised him, that if he was once more victorious, he would declare himself Lysander's retainer, or even his slave. Lysander's ambition was a burden only to the great, and to persons of equal rank with himself. But that arrogance and violence which grew into his temper along with his ambition, from the flat- teries with which he was besieged, had a more extensive influence. He set no moderate bounds either to his favor or resentment. Governments unlimited and unexamined, were, the rewards of any friendship or hospitality he had experienced, and the sole punishment that could appease his anger was the death of his enemy; nor was there any way to escape. * They were stolen. PLitarch mentions it as an omen of the dreadful loss the Spartans were to suffer in that battle. t t?o Arislobulns, the Jewish prince, presented Pompey with a golden vineyard or garden, valued at five hundred talents. That vineyard was consecrated in the temple of Jupiter Ulympius, as this galley was at Delphi. j This Alexandrides, or rather Anaxandrdes, wrote an account of the offerings stolen from the temple at Delphi. What, incense the meanness of human nature can offer to one of their own species! nay, to one who, having no regard to honor or virtue, scarce deserved the name of a man! The tfamians worshiped him, as the Indians do the devil, that he might do them no more hurt; that after one dreadful sacrifice to his cruelty, he might seek no more. II There were three poets of this name, but their works are all lost. The first, who was of Samos, sung the victory of the Athenians over Xerxes. He flourished about the seventy-fifth Olympiad. The second was this Chcerilus of Sparta, who flourished abont seventy years after the first. The third was he who attended Alexander the Great, above eventy years after the time of Lysander's Chrerilus. ^According to others, he was of Claros. He was reck- There was an instance of this at Miletus. He was afraid that the leaders of the plebeian party there would secure themselves by flight; therefore to draw them from their retreats, he took an oath, not to do any of them the least injury. They trusted him, and made their appearance; but he immediately delivered them to the opposite party, and they were put to death, to the number of eight hundred. Infinite were the cruelties he exercised in every city, against those who were suspected of any inclination to popular govern- ment. For he not only consulted his own pas- sions, and gratified his own revenge, but co- operated, in this respect, with the resentments and avarice of all his friends. Hence it was, that the saying of Eteocles, the Lacedaemonian, WMS reckoned a good one, "Thai Greece could not bear two Lysanders." Theophrastus, indeed, tells us, that Archistratus* had said the same thing of Alcibiades. But insolence, luxury, and vanity, were the most disagreeable part of his character; whereas Lysander's power was attended with cruelty and savageness of manners, that rendered it insupportable. There were many complaints against him, which the Lacedemonians paid, no regard to. However, when Pharnabazus sent ambassadors to Sparta, to represent the injury he had received, from the depredations committed in his province, the epkori were incensed, and put Thorax, one of his friends and colleagues, to death, having found silver in his possession contrary to the late law. They likewise ordered Lysander home by their scytale, the nature and use of which was this: Whenever the magistrates sent out an admiral or a general, they prepared two round pieces of wood with so much exactness, that fhey were perfectly equal both in length and thickness. One of these they kept themselves, the other was delivered to the officer then employed. Thuse pieces of wood were called scytala. When they had any secret and important orders to convey to him, they took a long narrow scroll of parchment, and rolled it about their own staff, one fold close to another, and then wrote their business on it. This done, they took off the scroll and sent it to the general. As soon as he received it, lie applied it to his staff, which being just like that of tiie magistrates, all the folds fell in with one another, exactly as they did at the writing: and though, before, the char- acters were so broken and disjointed that nothing could be made of them, they now became plain and legible. The parchment, as well as the staff, is called scytale, as the thing measured bears the name of the measure. Lysandt-r, who was then in the Hellespont, waa much alarmed at the scytale. Pharnabazus being the person whose impeachment he most dreaded, he hastened to an interview with him, in hopes of being able to compose their differences. When they met, he desired him to send another account to the magistrates, signifying that he neither had lor made any complaint. He was not aware (as the proverb has it) that "he was playing the Cre- tan with a Cretan." Pharnabazns promised to comply with his request, and wrote a letter in his jresence agreeable to his directions, but had con- trived to have another by him to a quite contrary effect. When the letter was to be sealed, he palmed that upon him which he had written pri- vately, and which exactly resembled it. Lysan- der, upon his arrival at Lacedaemon, went, accord- jned next to Homer in heroic poetry. But some thought lim too pompous and vofbose. * it should be read Archestratus. 300 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ing to custom, to the senate-house, and delivered Pharnabazus's letter to the magistrates; assuring himself that the heaviest charge was removed. For he knew the Lacedaemonians paid a particu- lar attention to Pharnabazus, because, of all the king's lieutenants, he had done them the greatest services in the war. When the ephori had read the letter, they showed it to Lysander. He now found to his cost, " that others have art beside Ulysses," and in great confusion left the senate- house. A few days after, he applied to the magistrates, and told them, he was obliged to go to the temple of Jupiter Ammon, and offer the sacrifices he had vowed before his battles. Some say, that when he was besieging the city of the Aphytaeans in Thrace, Ammon actually appeared to him in a dream, and ordered him to raise the siege: that he complied with that order, and bade the Aphytee- ans sacrifice to Ammon; and for the same rea'son, now hastened to pay his devotions to that deity in Libya. But it was generally believed that he only used the deity as a pretext, and that the true reason of his retiring was the fear of the ephori, and his aversion to subjection. He chose rather to wander in foreign countries, than to be con- trolled at home. His haughty spirit was like that of a horse, which has long ranged the pastures at liberty, and returns with reluctance to the stall, and to his former burden. As for the reason which Ephorus assigns for this voyage, I shall mention it by and by. With much difficulty, he got leave of the ephori to depart, and took his voyage. While he was upon it, the kings considered that it was by means of the associations he had formed, that he held the cities in subjection, and was in effect master of all Greece. They resolved, therefore, to drive out his friends, and re-establish the popular gov- ernments. This occasioned new commotions. First of all, the Athenians, from the castle of Phyle,* attacked the thirty tyrants, and defeated them. Immediately upon this, Lysander returned, and persuaded the Lacedaemonians to support the oligarchies, and to chastise the people; in conse- quence of which, they remitted a hundred talents to the tyrants, to enable them to carry on the war, and appointed Lysander himself their gen- eral. But the envy with which the kings were actuated, and their fear that he would take Athens a second time, led them to determine, that one of them should attend the expedition. Accordingly, Pausanias marched into Attica, in appearance to support the thirty tyrants against the people, but in reality to put an end to the war, lest Lysander, by his interest in Athens, should become master of it again. This he easily effected. By recon- ciling the Athenians among themselves, and com- posing the tumults, he clipped the wings of Lysamier's ambition. Yet, as the Athenians re- volted soon after, Pausanias was blamed for taking the curb of the oligarchy out of the mouth of the people, and letting them grow bold and insolent again. On the contrary, it added to the reputa- tion of Lysander: he was now considered as a man who took not his measures either through favor or ostentation, but in all his operations, how severe soever, kept a strict and steady eye upon the interests of Sparta. Lysander, indeed, had a ferocity in his expres- sions as well as actions, which confounded his adversaries. When the Argives had a dispute * A castle aliove Athens, strongly situated. Xenophon often mentions it in the second book of his Grecian His- tory. with him about their boundaries, and thought their plea better than that of the Lacedaemonians, he showed them his sword, and said, " He that is master of this, can best plead about boundaries.- When a citizen of Megara treated him with great freedom, in a certain conversation, he said, " My friend, those, words of thine should not come but from strong walls and bulwarks." When the Boeotians hesitated upon some pro positions he made them, he asked them, " Whe- ther he should trail or push his pikes among them?" The Corinthians having deserted the league, he advanced up to their walls; but the Lacedaemo- nians, he found, were very loth to begin the as- sault. A hare just then happening to start out of the trenches, he took occasion to say, " Are not you ashamed to dread those enemies, who are so idle, that the very hares sit in quiet under their walls? " When king Agis paid the last tribute to nature, he left behind him a brother named Agesilaus, and a reputed son named Leotyehidas. Lysander, who had regarded Agesilaus with an extraordinary affec- tion, persuaded him to lay claim to the crown, aa a genuine descendant of Hercules; whereas, Leo- tyehidas was suspected to be the son of Alcibiades, and the fruit of a private commerce which he had with Timaea, the wife of Agis, during his exile in Sparta. Agis. they tell us, from his computation of the time, concluded that the child was not his, and therefore took no notice of Leotyehidas, but rather openly disavowed him through the whole course of his life. However, when he fell sick, and was carried to Heraea,* he was prevailed upon by the entreaties of the youth himself, and of his friends, before he died, to declare, before many witnesses, that Leotyehidas was his lawful son. At the same time, he desired all persons present to testify these his last words to the Lacedaemonians, and then immediately expired. Accordingly, they gave their testimony in favoi of Leotyehidas. As for Agesilaus, he was a man of uncommon merit, and supported beside by the interest of Lysander; but his affairs were near being ruined by Diophites, a famous interpreter of oracles, who applied this prophesy to his lame- ness Beware, proud Sparta, lest a maimed empiref Thy boasted strength impair; for other woes Than thou behold'st await thee borne away By the strong tide of war. Many believed this interpretation, and were turn ing to Leotyehidas. But Lysander observed, that Diophites had mistaken the sense of the oracle; for that the deity did not give himself any concern about their being governed by a lame king, but meant that their government would be lame, if spurious persons should wear the crown among the race of Hercules. Thus, partly by his ad- dress, and partly by his interest, he prevailed upon them to give the preference to Agesilaus, and he was declared king. Lysander immediately pressed him to carry the war into Asia, encouraging him with the hope of destroying the Persian monarchy, and becoming himself the greatest of mankind, He likewise sent instructions to his friends in Asia, to petition * Xenophon (1. ii.) tells us that Agis fell sick at Hera>a, a city of Arcadia, on his way from Delphi, and that he was carried to Sparta and died there. t The oracle considered the two kings of Sparta as its two legs, the supports of its freedom; which in fact they were, by being a check upon each other. The Lacedaemo- nians were therefore admonished to beware of a lame go- vernment, of having their republic converted into a mon- archy: which, indeed, proved their ruin at last. Vide Justit, 1. vi. L YS AND ER. 301 Rie Lacedeemouiuns lo give Agesilaus the conduct of the war against the barbarians. They com- plied with his order, and sent ambassadors to Lace- dremon for that purpose. Indeed, this command, which Lysander procured Agesilaus, seems to have been an honor equal to the crown itself. But ambitious spirits, though in other respects not unfit for affairs of state, are hindered from many great actions by the envy they bear their fellow- candidates for fame. For thus they make those their adversaries, who would otherwise have been their assistants in the course of glory. Agesilaus took Lysander with him, made him one of his thirty counselors, and gave him the first rank in his friendship. But when they came into Asia, Agesilaus found, that the people, being unacquainted with him, seldom applied to him, and were very short in their addresses; whereas, Lysaader, whom they had long known, had them always ut his gates, or in his train; some attend- ing out of friendship, and others out of fear. Just as it happens in tragedies, that a principal actor represents a messenger or a servant, and is admired in that character, while he who bears the diadem and scepter is hardly listened to while he speaks; so in this case, the counselor engrossed all the honor, and the king had the title of com- mander, without the power. Doubtless, this unseasonable ambition of Ly- sander deserved correction, and he was to be made to know that the second place only belonged to him. But entirely to cast off a friend and bene- factor, and, from a jealousy of honor, to expose him to scorn, was a step unworthy the character of Agesilaus. He began with taking business out of his hands, and making it a point not to employ him on any occasion where he might distinguish himself. In the next place, those for whom Ly- sander interested himself, were sure to miscarry, and to meet with less indulgence than others of the meanest station. Thus the king gradually undermined his power. When Lysander found that he failed in all his applications, and that his kindness was only a hin- derance to his friends, he desired them to forbear their addresses to him, and to wait only upon the King, or the present dispensers of his favors. In consequence of this, they gave him no further trouble about business, but still continued their attentions, and joined him in the public walks and other places of resort. This gave Agesilaus more pain than ever; and his envy and jealousy continually increased; insomuch, that while he gave commands and governments to common sol- diers, he appointed Lysander his carver. Then, to insult the lonians, he bade them " go and make their court to his carver." Hereupon, Lysander determined to corne to an explanation with him, and their discourse was very laconic: " Truly, Agesilaus, you know very well how to tread upon your friends." " Yes," said he, " when they want to be greater than my- self. It is but fit that those who are willing to advance my power should share it." "Perhaps," eaid Lysander, " tl'is is rather what you say than what I did. I beg of you, however, for the sake of strangers who have their eyes upon us, that you will put me in some post, where I may be least obnoxious, and most useful to you." Agreeably to this request, the lieutenancy of the Hellespont was granted him; and though he still retained his resentment against Agesilaus, he did not neglect his duty. He found Spithridates,* * So Xenophon calls him, not Mithridates, the common eadin^ in Plutarch. Indeed, some manuscript? have it fipithriilates in the life of Agesilaus. a Persian, remarkable for his valor, and with an army at his command, at variance with Pharna- bazus, and persuaded him to revolt to Agesilaus. This was the only service he was employed upon: and when this commission was expired, he re- turned to Sparta in great disgrace, highly incensed against Agesilaus, and more displeased than ever with the whole frame of government. He re- solved, therefore, now, without any farther loss of time, to bring about the change he had long me -Hated in the constitution. When the Heraclidie mixed with the Dorians, and settled in Peloponnesus, there was a laige and flourishing tribe of them at Sparta. The whole, however, were not entitled to the regal succession, but only two families, the Eurytionid;;: and the Agidae, while the rest had no share in the admin- istration, on account of their high birth. For as to the common rewards of virtue, they were open to all men of distinguished merit. Lysander, who was of this lineage, no sooner saw himself ex- alted by his great actions, and supported with friends and power, but he became uneasy to think that a city which owed its grandeur to him, should be ruled by others no better descended than him- self. Hence he entertained a design to alter the settlement which confined the succession to two families only, and to lay it open to all the Herac- lidae. Some say, his intention was to extend this high honor not only to all the Heraclidae, but to all the citizens of Sparta; that it might not so much belong to the posterity of Hercules, as to those who resembled Hercules in that virtue which numbered him with the gods. He hoped, too', that when the crown was settled in this manner, no Spartan would have better pretensions than himself. At first, he prepared to draw the citizens into his scheme, and committed to memory an oration written by Cleon of Halicarnassus for that pur- pose. But he soon saw that so great and difficult a reformation required bolder and more extraor- dinary methods to bring it to bear. And as, in tragedy, machinery is made use of, where moi'e natural means will not do, so he resolved to strike the people with oracles and prophesies; well knowing that the eloquence of Cleon would avail but little, unless he first subdued their minds with divine sanctions and the terrors of superstition. Ephorus tells us, he first attempted to corrupt the priestess of Delphi, and afterward those of Do- dona by means of one Pherecles; and having no success in either application, he went himself to the oracle of Ammon, and offered the priest large sums of gold. They too rejected his offers with indignation, and sent deputies to Sparta to accuse him of that crime. When these Libyans found he was acquitted, they took their leave of the Spar- tans in this manner "We will pass better judg- ments, when you come to live among us in Libya." It seems there was an ancient prophesy, that the Lacedaemonians would some time or other settle in Africa. This whole scheme of Lysander's was of no ordinary texture, nor took its rise from accidental circumstances, but was laid deep, and conducted with uncommon art and address: so that it may be compared to a mathematical de- monstration, in which, from some principles first assumed, the conclusion is deduced through a va- riety of abstruse and intricate steps. We shall, therefore, explain it at large, taking Ephorus, who was both an historian and philosopher, for our guide. There was a woman in Pontus who gave it out that she was pregnant by Apollo. Many rejected her assertion, and many believed it. So that when 302 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. she was delivered of a son, several persons of the greatest eminence took particular care of his edu- cation, and for some reason or other gave him the name of Silenus. Lysander took this miraculous birth for a foundation, and raised^all his building upon it. He made choice of such assistants, as might bring the story into reputation, and put it beyond suspicion. Then he got another story propagated at Delphi, and spread at Sparta, "That certain ancient oracles were kept in the private registers of the priests, which it was not lawful to touch, or to look upon, until in some future age a person should arise, who could clearly prove himself the son of Apollo, and he was to inter- pret and publish those oracles." The way thus prepared, Silenus was to make his appearance, as the son of Apollo, and demand the oracles. The priests, who were in combination, were to inquire into every article, and examine him strictly as to his birth. At last they were to pretend to be con- vinced of his divine parentage, and to show him the books. Silenus then was to read in public all those prophesies, particularly that for which the whole design was set on foot, namely, " That it would be more for the honor and interest of Sparta to set aside the present race of kings, and choose others out of the best and most worthy of men in the commonwealth." But when Silenus was grown up, and came to undertake his part, Ly- sander had the mortification to see his piece mis- carry by the cowardice of one of the actors, whose heart failed him just as the thing was go- ing to be put in execution. However, nothing of this was discovered while Lysander lived. He died before Agesilaus returned from Asia, after he had engaged his country, or rather in- volved all Greece in the Boeotian war. It is in- deed related variously, some laying the blame upon him, some upon the Thebans. and others upon both. Those who charge the Thebans with it say they overturned the altar, and profaned the sacri- fice.* Agesilaus was offering at Aulus; and that Androclides and Amphitheus, being corrupted with Persian money, f attacked the Phocians, and laid waste their country, in order to draw upon the Lacedaemonians the Grecian war. On the other hand, they who make Lysander the author of the war, inform us he was highly displeased, that the Thebans only, of all the confederates, should claim the tenth of the Athenian spoils, taken at Decelea, and complain of his sending the money to Sparta. But what he most resented was, their putting the Athenians in a way of de- livering themselves from the thirty tyrants, whom he had set up. The Lacedaemonians, to strength- en the hands of other tyrants and make them more formidable, had decreed, that if any Athenian fled out of the city, he should be apprehended, where- ever he was found, and obliged to return; and that * Beside this affair of the sacrifice, the Lncedrcmonians were offended at the Thebans, for their claiming the tenths of the treasure taken at Decelea; as well as for refusing to attend them in their expedition against, the Pirteus, and dis- suading the Corinthians from joining in that enterprise. Indeed, the Thebans began to be jealous of the growing power of the Lacedaemonians, and did not want to see the Athenians, whose weight had been considerable in the bahince of power, entirely ruined. Xcnoph. Gr. Hist. 1. iii. t These were not the only persons who had taken the Persian money. Tithraustes, alarmed at the progress Age- silaus was making in Asia, sent Timocrates the Rhodian with fifty talents to be distributed among the leading men in the states of Greece. Those of Corinth and Argos had their share as well as tha Thebans. In consequence of this, the Thebans persuaded the Locrians to pillage a tract of land that was in dispute between the Phocians and the Thebans. The Phocians made reprisals. The Thebans supported the Locrians; whereupon the Phocians applied to be Spartans, and the war became general. whoever opposed the taking such fugitives should be treated as enemies to Sparta. The Thebans on that occasion gave out orders, that deserve tc be enrolled with the actions of Hercules and Bac- chus. They caused proclamation to be made, "That every house and city should be open to such Athenians as desired protection. That who- ever refused assistance to a fugitive that was seiz- ed, should be fined a talent; and that if any one should carry arms through Boeotia against the Athenian tyrants, he should not meet with the least molestation." Nor were their actions unsuit- able to these decrees, so humane, and so worthy of Grecians. When Thrasybulus and his company seized the castle of Phyle, and laid the plan of their other operations, it was from Thebes they set out; and the Thebans not only supplied them with arms and money, but gave them a kind re- ception and every encouragement. These were the grounds of Lysander's resentment against them. He was naturally prone to anger, and the me- lancholy that grew upon him with years madfl him still more so. He therefore importuned the cphori to send him against the Thebans. Accord- ingly he was employed, and marched out at the head of one army, and Pausanias was soon sent after him with another. Pausanias took a circuit by mount Cithreron, to enter Bosotia, and Lysan- der went through Phocis with a very considerable force to meet him. The city of Orchomenus was surrendered to him, as he was upon his march, and he look Lebadia by storm, and plundered it. From thence he sent letters to Pausanias, to desire him to remove from Platsea, and join him at Ha- liartus; for he intended to be there himself by break of day. But the messenger was taken by a Theban reconnoitering party, and the letters were carried to Thebes. Hereupon, the Thebans intrusted their city with a body of Athenian aux- iliaries, and marched out themselves about mid- night for Haliartus. They reached the town a little before Lysander, and entered it with part of their forces. Lysander at first thought proper to encamp upon an eminence, and wait for Pausa- nias. But when the day began to decline, he grew impatient, and ordered the Lacedaemonians and confederates to arms. Then he led out his troops in a direct line along the high road up to the wails. The Thebans who remained without, taking the city on the left, fell upon his rear, at the fountain called Cissusa.* It is fabled that the nurses of Bacchus? washed him in this fountain immediately after hi? birth. The water is, indeed, of a bright and shining color like wine, and a most agreeable taste. Not far off* grow the Cretan canesf of which javelins are made; by which the Haliartians would prove that Rhadamanthus dwelt there. Beside, they show his tomb, which they call Alea. The monu- ment of Alcrneua, too, is near that place; and nothing, they say, can be more probable than that she was buried there, because she married Rhada- manthus after Amphitryon's death. The other Thebans, who had entered the city, drew up with the Haliartians, and stood still for some time. But when thev saw Lysander with his out is vanguard approaching the walls, they rushed ut at the gates and killed him, with a diviner by * The name of this fountain should probably be corrected from Pausanias and Strabo, and read Tilphusa or Tilphota. t Strabo tells us Haliartus was destroyed by the Roman.;, in the war with Perseus. He also mentions a lake near it, which produces canes or reeds, not for shafts or javelins, but for pipes or flutes. Plutarch, too, mentions the latter use in the life of Sylla. LYSANDER. bis side, and some few ore; for the greatest part retired as fast as possible to the main body. The Thebans pursued their advantage, and pressed upon them with so much ardor, that they were Boon put to the rout, and fled to the hills. Their loss amounted to a thousand, and that of the The- bans to three hundred. The latter lost their lives by chasing the enemy into craggy and dangerous ascents. These three hundred had been accused of favoring the Lacedemonians; and being deter- mined to wipe off that stain, they pursued them W'th a rashness which proved fatal to themselves. Pausanias received the news of this misfortune, as he was upon his march from Platrea toThespiae, and he continued his route in good order to Hali- artus. Thrasybulus likewise brought up his Athenians thither from Thebes. Pausanias want- ed a truce, that he might article for the dead: but tlie older Spartans could not think o*f it without indignation. They went to him and declared, " That they would never recover the body of Ly- sander by truce, but by arms; that, if they con- quered, they should bring it off, and bury it with honor, and if they were worsted, they should fall gloriously upon the same spot with their com- mander." Notwithstanding these representations of the veterans, Pausanias saw it would be very difficult to beat the Thebans now flushed with victory; and that even if he should have the ad- vantage, he could hardly, without a truce, carry off the body which lay so near the walls. He therefore sent a herald who settled the conditions, and then retired with his army. As soon as they were got out of the confines of Bffiotia, they in- terred Lysander in the territories of the Penopseans, which was the first ground belonging to their friends and confederates. His monument still remains, by the road from Delphi to Cheronea. While the Lacedemonians had their quarters there, it is reported that a certain Phocian, who was giving an account of the action to a friend of his that was not in it, said, " The enemy fell upon them, just after Lysander had passed the Hoplites." While the man stood wondering at the account, a Spartan, a friend of Lysander's, asked the Phocian what he meant by Hoplites* for he could make nothing of it. " I mean," said he, " the place where the enemy cut down our first ranks. The river tiiat runs by the town is called Hoplites." The Spartan, when he heard this, burst out into tears, and cried out, "How inevitable is fate! " It seems, Lysander had received an oracle, couched in these terms Fly from Hoplites and the earth-born dragon, That stings thee in the rear. Some say the Hoplites does not run by Haliar- tus, but is a brook near Coronea, which mixes with the river Philarus, and runs along to that city. It was formerly called Hoplias, but is now known by the name of Isomantus. The Haliartian who killed Lysander was named Neochorus, and he bore a dragon on his shield, which it was supposed, the oracle referred to. They tell us too, that the city of Thebes, dur- ing thePeloponnesian war, had an oracle from the Ismenian Apollo, which foretold the battle at Delium,f and this at Haliartus, though the latter * Hoplites, though the name of that rivtr, signifies also a heavy armed soldier. t Tho battle of Delium, in which the Athenians were did not happen until thirty years after the other The oracle runs thus Beware the confines of the wolf; nor spread Thy snares for foxes on the Orchalian hills. The country about Delium he calls the confines, because JBoeotia there borders upon Attica: and by the Orchalian hill is meant that in particular called Alopecus* on that side of Helicon which looks toward Haliartus. After the death of Lysander the Spartans so much resented the whole behavior of Pausanius with respect, to that event, that they summoned him to be tried for his life. He did not appear to answer that charge, but fled to Tegea, and took refuge in Minerva's temple, where he spent the rest of his days as her suppliant. Lysander's poverty, which was discovered af- ter his death, added luster to his virtue. It was then found, that notwithstanding the money which had passed through his hands, the authority he had exercised over so many cities, and indeed the great empire he had been possessed of, he had not in the least improved his family fortune. This account we have from Theopompus, whom we more easily believe when he commends, than when he finds fault; for he, as well as many others, was more inclined to censure than to praise. Ephorus tells us, that afterward, upon some disputes between the confederates and the Spar- tans, it was thought necessary to inspect the wri- tings of Lysander, and for that purpose Age- silaus went to his house. Among the other pa- pers, he found that political one, calculated to show how proper it would be to take the right of succession from the Eurytionidae and Agida?, and to elect kings from among persons of the great- est merit. He was going to produce it before the citizens, and to show what the real principles of Lysander were. But Lacratides, a man of sense, and the principal of the ephori, kept him from it, by representing, " How wrong it would be to dig Lysander out of his grave, when this oration, which was written in so artful and per- suasive a manner, ought rather to be buried with him." Among the other honors paid to the memory of L3 T sander, that which I am going to mention i.s none of the least. Some persons who had con- tracted themselves to his daughters in his life- time, when they found he died poor, fell off from their engagement. The Spartans fined them for courting the alliance while they had riches in view, and breaking off when they discovered thatpoverty which was the best proof of Lysander's probity and justice. It seems, at Sparta there was a law which punished, not only those who continued in a state of celibacy, or married too late, but those that married ill; and it was leveled chiefly at persons who married into rich, rather than good families. Such are the particu- lars of Lysander's life which history has supplied us with. defeated by the Thebans, was fought the first, year of the eighty-ninth Olympiad, four hundred and twenty-two years before Christ; and that of Haliartus full twenty-nine years after. But it is common for historians to m'ake use of a round number, except in cases where great precision is re- quired. *Thatis,/az./n. 304 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. SYLLA. Lucius CORNELIUS SYLLA was of a patrician ! when in the hight of his power, he would collect family. One of his ancestors, named Rufinus,* j the most noted players arid buffoons every day is said to have been consul, but to have fallen un- j and, in a manner unsuitable to his age and dig- der a disgrace more than equivalent to that j nity, drink and join with them in licentious wit honor. He was found to have in his possession | while business of consequence lay neglected. more than ten pounds of plate, which the law Indeed, Sylla would never admit of anything se- rious at his table; and though at other times a man of business and rather grave and austere in his manner, he would change instantaneously, whenever he had company, and begin a carou- did not allow, and for that he was expelled the senate. Hence it was, that his posterity, contin- ued in a low and obscure condition'; and Sylla himself was born to a very scanty fortune. Even after he was grown up he lived in hired lodgings, for which he paid but a small consideration, and afterward he was reproached with it, when he was risen to such opulence as he had no reason to expect. For one day, as he was boasting of the great things he had done in Africa, a person of character made answer, " How canst thou be an honest man, who art master of such a for- tune, though thy father left thee nothing?" It seems, though the Romans at that time did not retain their ancient integrity and purity of man- ners, but were degenerated into luxury and ex- pense, yet they considered it as no less disgraceful to have departed from family poverty, than to have spent a paternal estate. And a long time after, when Sylla had made himself absolute, and put numbers to death, a man, who was only the second of his family that was free, being con- demned to be thrown down the Tarpeian rock, for concealing a friend of his that was in the proscription, spoke of Sylla in this upbraiding manner "I am his old acquaintance; we lived long under the same roof: I hired the upper apartment at two thousand sesterces, and he that under me at three thousand." So that the difference between their fortunes was then only a thousand sesterces, which in Attica n money is two hundred and fifty drachmas. Such is the account we have of his origin. As to his figure, we have the whole of it in his statues, except his eyes. They were of a lively blue, fierce and menacing; and the ferocity of his aspect was hightened by his complexion, which was a strong red, interspersed with spots of white. From his complexion, they tell us, he had the name of Sylla.f and an Athenian droll drew the following jest from it: "Sylla's a mulberry, strew'd o'er with meal." Nor is it foreign to make these observations upon before he emerged lover of drollery, a man, who in his youth, from obscuritv, was such sal. So that to buffoons and dancers he was the most affable man in the world, the most easy of access, and they molded him just as they pleased. To this dissipation may be imputed his libidin- ous attachments, his disorderly and infamous love of pleasure, which stuck by him even in age. One of his mistresses, named Nicopolus, was courtesan, but very rich. She taken with his company and the beauty of his person, that she entertained a real passion for him, and at her death appointed him her heir. His mother-in-law, who loved him as her own son, likewise left him her estate. With these additions to his fortune, he was tolerably provided for. He was appointed qurestor to Marius in his first consulship, and went over with him into Africa to carry on the war with Jugurtha. In the military department he gained great honois and, among other things, availed himself of an opportunity to make a friend of Bocchus, king of Numidia. The ambassadors of that prince had just escaped out of the hands of robbers, and were in a very indifferent condition, when Sylla gave them the most humane reception, loaded them with presents, and sent them back with a strong guard. Bocchus, who for a long time had both hated and feared his son-in-law Jugurtha, had him then at his court. He had taken refuge there after his defeat; and Bocchus, now meditating to betray him, chose rather to let Sylla seize him than to deliver him up himself. Sylla communi- cated the affair to Marius, and taking a small party with him, set out upon the expedition, dangerous as it was. What, indeed, could be more so, than in hopes of getting another man into his power, to trust himself with a barbarian who was treach- erous to his own relations? In fact, when Boc- chus saw them at his disposal, and that he waa under a necessity to betray either the one or the other, he debated long with himself which should be that he spent his time with mimics and jesters, and the victim. At last, he determined to abide by his went with them every length of riot. Nay, * Publins Cornelius Rufinus was twice consul; the first time in the year of Rome four hundred and sixty-three, and the second thirteen years after. He was expelled the senate two years after his second consulship, when Q,. Fa- bricius Lnseinus, and Caius ^Emilius 1'apus were censors. Velleius Paterculus tells us, Sylla was the sixth in descent from this Rnfinus, which might very well be; for between the first consulship of Rufinus and the first camdaign of Sylla, there was a space of a hundred and eighty-eight years. t Sil, or Syl, is a yellow kind of earth, which, when burn- ' ed, becomes red. signifies purple. Hence, Sj/llaceoiis color in Vitruvius first resolution, and gave up Jugurtha into the hands of Sylla. This procured Marius a triumph; but envy as cribed all the glory of it to Sylla: which Marius in his heart not "a little resented Especially when he found that Sylla, who was naturally fond of fame, and from a low and obscure condi- tion now came to general esteem, let his ambi- tion carry him so far as to give orders for a signet to be eng'raved with a representation of this ad- venture, which he constantly used in sealing his letters. The device was, Bocchus delivering up Jugurtha, and Sylla receiving him. S YLL A 305 This touched Marius to the quick. However, as he thought Sylia not considerable enough to be the object of envy, he continued to employ him in his wars. Thus, in his second consul- fillip, he made him one of his lieutenants, and in his third gave him the command of a thousand men. Sylla, in these several capacities, per- formed many important services. In that of lieutenant, he took Copillus, chief of the Tecto- sage, prisoner; and in that of tribune, he persua- ded the great and populous nation of the Marsi to declare themselves friends and allies of the Romans. But rinding Marius uneasy at his suc- cess, and that, instead of giving him new occa- sions to distinguish himself, he rather opposed his advancement, he applied to Catulus the colleague of Marius. Catulus was a worthy man, but wanted that vigor which is necessary for action. He there- fore employed Sylla in the most difficult enter- prises; which opened him a fine field both of honor aud power. He subdued most of the barbari- ans that inhabited the Alps; and in a time of scarcity undertook to procure a supply of provi- sions; which he performed so effectually, that there was not only abundance in the camp of Ca- tulu3, but the overplus served to relieve that of Marius. Sylla himself writes, that Marius was greatly afflicted at this circumstance. From so small and childish a cause, did that enmity spring, which afterward grew up in blood, and was nour- ished by civil wars and the rage of faction, until it ended in tyranny and the confusion of the whole state. This shows how wise a man Euri- pides was, and how well he understood the dis- tempers of government, when he called upon mankind to beware of ambition,* as the most destructive of demons to those that worship her. Sylla by this time thought the glory he had ac- quired in war sufficient to procure him a share in the administration, and therefore immediately left the camp to go and make his court to the people. The office he solicited was that of the dty pratorship, but he failed in the attempt. The reason he assigns is this: the people, he says, knowing the friendship between him and Boc- ahus, expected, if he was tedile before his preetor- ship, that he would treat them with magnificent huntings and combats of African wild beasts, and on that account chose other praetors, that he might be forced upon the aedileship. But the subsequent events showed the cause alleged by Sylla not to be the true one. For the year followingf he got himself elected pra3tor, partly by his assidui- ties, and partly by his money. While he bore that office, he happened to be provoked at Caesar, and said to him angrily, " I will use my authority against you." Caesarf answered, laughing, 'You do well to call it yours, for you bought it.' After his praetorship he was sent into Cappado- da. His pretense for that expedition was the re- establishment of Ariobarzanes; but his real de- eign was to restrain the enterprising spirit of Mithridates, who was gaining himself dominions no less respectable than his paternal ones. He did not take many troops with him out of Italy, but availed himself of the service of the allies, whom he found well affected to the cause. With these he attacked the Cappadocians, and cut * Phfflnissse, v. 534. t The year of Rome six hundred and fifty-seven. j This must have been Sextus Julius Ceesar, who was consul four years after Sylla's preetorship. Caius Julius Caesar was only four years old when Sylla was pnetor. 20 in pieces great numbers of them, and still more of the Armenians, who came to their succor: in consequence of which Gordias was driven out, and Ariobarzanes restored to his kingdom. During his encampment on the banks of the Euphrates, Orobazus came ambassador tc him from Arsaces, king of Parthia. There had as yet been no intercourse between the two nations: and it must be considered as a circumstance of Sylla's good fortune, that he was the first Roman to whom the Parthians applied for friendship and alliance. At the time of audience, he is said to have ordered three chairs, one for Ariobarzanes, one for Orobazus, and another in the middle for himself. Orobuzus was afterward put to death by the king of Parthia, for submitting so far to a Roman. As for Sylla, some commended his be- havior to the barbarians; while others blamed it as insolent and out of season. It is reported that a certain Chalcidian,* in the train of Orobazus, looked at Sylla's face, and ob- served very attentively the turn of his ideas and the motions of his body. These he compared with the rules of his art, and then declared, "That he must infallibly be one day the greatest of men; and that it was strange, he could bear to be any- thing less at present." At his return, Censorius prepared to accuse him of extortion, for drawing, contrary to law, vast sums from a kingdom that was in alliance with Rome. He did not, however, bring it to a trial, but dropped the intended impeachment. The quarrel between Sylla and Marius broke out afresh on the following occasion. Bocchus, to make his court to the people of Rome, and to Sylla at the same time, was so officious as to de- dicate several images of victory in the Capitol, and close by them a figure of Jugurtha in gold, in the form he had delivered him up to Sylla. Marius. unable to digest the affront, prepared to pull them down, and Sylla's friends were determined to hinder i^. Between them both the whole city was set in a flame, when the confederate war, which had long lain smothered, broke out, and for the present put a stop to the sedition. In this great war, which was so various in its fortune, and brought so many mischiefs and dan- gers upon the Romans, it appeared from the small execution Marius did, that military skill requires a strong and vigorous constitution to second it. Sylla, on the other hand, performed so many memorable things, that the citizens looked upon him as a great general, his friends as the greatest in the world, and his enemies as the most for- tunate. Nor did he behave, with respect to that notion, like Timotheus the son of Conon. The enemies of that Athenian ascribed all his success to fortune, and got a picture drawn, in which he was represented asleep, and Fortune by his side taking cities for him in her net. Upon this he gave way to an indecent passion, and complained that he was robbed of the glory due to his achieve- ments. Nay, afterward, on his return from a certain expedition, he addressed the people in these terms " My fellow-citizens, you must ac- knowledge that in this, Fortune has no share.*' It is said, the goddess piqued herself so far on being revenged on this vanity of Tiinotheus, that he could never do anything extraordinary after- ward, but was baffled in all his undertakings, and became so obnoxious to the people that they banished him. Sylla took a different course. It not only gave * Of Chalcis, the metropolis of Chalcidene, in Syria;. if- Plutarch did not rather write Chaldean. 306 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. mm pleasure to hear his success imputed to For- tune, but he encouraged the opinion, thinking it added an air of greatness and even divinity to his actions. Whether he did this out of vanity, or Irom a real persuasion of its truth, we cannot say. However, he writes in his Commentaries, " That his instantaneous resolutions and enterprises exe- ecnted in a manner different from what he had intended, always succeeded better than those on which he bestowed the most time and forethought." It is plain too from that saying of his. " That he was born rather for fortune than war," that he attributed more to fortune than to valor. In short, he makes himself entirely the creature of Fortune, since he ascribes to her divine influence the good understanding that always subsisted between him and Meteilus, a man in the same sphere of life with himself, and his father-in-law. For, where- as he expected to find him a man troublesome in office, he proved ou the contrary a quiet and oblig- ing colleague. Add to this, that in the Commen- taries inscribed to Lucullus, he advises him to de- pend upon nothing more than that which Heaven directed to him in the visions of the night. He tells us further, that when he was sent at the head of an army against the confederates, the earth opened on a sudden near Laverna;* and that there issued out of the chasm, which was very large, a vast quantity of fire, and a flame that shot up to the heavens. The soothsayers being consulted upon it, made answer, " That a person of courage and superior beauty, should take the reins of go- vernment into his hands and suppress the tumults with which Rome was then agitated." Sylla says, he was the man: for his locks of gold were sufficient proof of his beauty, and that he needed not hesitate after so many great actions, to avow himself a man of courage. Thus much concern- his confidence in the gods. In other respects he was not so consistent with himself. Rapacious in a high degree, but still more liberal ; in preferring or disgracing whom he pleased; equally unaccountable; sub- missive to those who might be of service to him, and severe to those who wanted services from him: so that it was hard to say whether he was more insolent or servile in his nature. Such was his inconsistency in punishing, that he would sometimes put men to the most cruel tortures on the slightest grounds, and sometimes overlook the greatest crimes; he would easily take some persons into favor after the most unpardonable offenses, while he took vengeance of others for small and trifling faults, by death and confiscation of goods. These things can be no otherwise reconciled, than by concluding that he was severe and vindictive in his temper, but occasionally checked those in- clinations, where his own interest was concerned. In this very war with the confederates, his sol- diers dispatched, with clubs and stones, a lieuten- ant of his, named Albinus, who had been honored with the pnetorship; yet he suffered them, after such a crime, to escape with impunity. He only took occasion from thence to boast, that he should find they would exert themselves more during the rest of the war, because they would endeavor to atone for that offense by extraordinary acts of valor. The censure he incurred on this occasion did not affect him. His great object was the de- struction of Marius, and finding that the confede- rate war was drawing toward an end,f he paid his court to the army, that he might be appointed general against Marius. Upon his return to Rome * In the Salarian way there was a grove and temple con- ecrated to the goddess Laverna. t In the year of Rome six hundred and sixty.five. he was elected consul with Quinctius Pompeius, being then fifty years old, and at the same time he entered into an advantageous marriage with Caecilia, daughter of Meteilus the high-priest. This match occasioned a good deal of popular censure. Sarcastical songs were made upon it: and, according to Livy's account, many of the principal citizens invidiously thought him un- worthy of that alliance, though they had not thought him unworthy of the consulship. This lady was not his first wife, for in the early pa~t of his life he married Ilia, by whom he had a daughter; afterward he espoused ^Elia, and aftei her Ccelia, whom, on account of her barren- ness, he repudiated, without any other marks of disgrace, and dismissed with valuable presents However, as he soon after married Metella, the dismission of Coelia became the object of censure. Melella he always treated with the utmost respect; insomuch that when the people of Rome were de- sirous that he should recall the exiles of Marius'a party, and could not prevail with him, they en- treated Metella to use her good offices for them. It was thought, too, that when he took Athens, that city had harder usage, because the inhabit- ants had jested vilely on Metella from the walls. But these things happened afterward. The consulship was now but of small conside- ration with him in comparison of what he had in view. His heart was fixed on obtaining the con- duct of the Mithridatic war. In this respect he had a rival in Marius, who was possessed with an ill-timed ambition and madness for fame, passions which never grow old. Though now unwieldy in his person, and obliged, on account of his age, to give up his share in the expeditions near home, he wanted the direction of foreign wars. This man, watching his opportunity in Rome, when Sylla was gone to the camp to settle some matters that remained unfinished, framed that fatal sedi- tion, which hurt her more effectually than all the wars she had ever been engaged in. Heaven sent prodigies to prefigure it. Fire blazed out of its own accord from the ensign staves, and was with difficulty extinguished. Three ravens brought their young into the city, and devoured them there, and then carried the remains back to their nests. Some rats having gnawed the consecrated gold in a certain temple, the sacristans caught one of them in a trap, where she brought forth five young ones, and eat three of them. And what was most considerable, one day when the sky waa serene and clear, there was heard in it the sound of a trumpet, so loud, so shrill, and mournful, that it frightened and astonished all the world. Tha Tuscan sages said it portended a new race of men, and a renovation of the world. For they observ- ed, that there were eight several kinds of men, all different in life and manners: That Heaven haa allotted each its time, which was limited by the circuit of the great year; and that when one came to a period, and another race was rising, it was announced by some wonderful sign either from earth or from heaven. So that it was evident, at one view, to those who attended to these things, and were versed in them, that a new sort of men was come into the world, with other manners and customs, and more or less the care of the goda than those who preceded them. They added, that to thia revolution of ages many strange alterations hap- pened: that divination, for instance, should be held in great honor in some one age, and prove successful in all its predictions, because the deity afforded pure and perfect signs to proceed by; whereas in another it should be in small repute, being mostly extemporaneous, and calculating S YLL A. 307 future events from uncertain and obscure prin- ciples. Such was the mythology of the most learned and respectable of the Tuscan soothsayers. While the senate were attending to their inter- pretations in the temple of Bellona, a sparrow, in sight of the whole body, brought in a grasshopper in her rnouth, and after she had torn it in two, left one part among them, and carried the other off. The diviners declared, they apprehended from this a dangerous sedition, and dispute be- tween the town and the country. For the inhabi- tants of the town are noisy like the grasshopper, and those of the country are domestic beings like the sparrow. Soon after this Marius got Sulpitius to join him. This man was inferior to none in desperate attempts. Indeed, instead of inquiring for an- other more emphatically wicked, you must ask in what instance of wickedness he exceeded himself. He was a compound of cruelty, impudence, and avarice, and he could commit the most horrid and infamous of crimes in cold blood. He sold the freedom of Rome openly to persons that had been slaves, as well as to strangers, and had the money told out upon a table in the forum. He had al- ways about him a guard of three hundred men well armed, and a company of young men of the equestrian order, whom he called his antisenate. Though he got a law made that no senator should contract debts to the amount of more than two thousand drachmas, yet it appeared at his death that he owed more than three millions. This wretch was let loose upon the people by Marius, and carried all before him by dint of sword. Among other bad edicts which he procured, one was that which gave the command in the Mithri- datic war to Marius. Upon this the consuls ordered all the courts to be shut up. But one day as they were holding an assembly before the temple of Castor and Pollux, he set his ruffians upon them, and many were slain. The son of Pompey the consul, who was yet but a youth, was of the number. Pompey concealed himself, and saved his life. Sylla was pursued into the house of Marius. and forced from thence to the forum, to revoke the order for the cessation of public business. For this reason Sulpitius, when lie deprived Pompey of the consulship, continued Sylla in it, and only transferred the conduct of the war with Mithridates to Marius. In conse- quence of this, he immediately sent some military tribunes to Nola, to receive the army at the hands of Sylla, and bring it to Marius. But Sylla got before them to the camp, and his soldiers were no sooner acquainted with the commission of those officers than they stoned them to death. Marius in return dipped his hands in the blood of Sylla's friends in Rome, and ordered their houses to be plundered. Nothing now was to be seen but hurry and confusion, some flying from the camp to the city, and some from the city to the camp. The senate were no longer free, but under the di- rection of Marius and Sulpitius. So that when they were informed that Sylla was marching to- ward Rome, they sent two praetors, Brutus and Servilius, to stop him. As they delivered their orders with some haughtiness to Sylla, the sol- diers prepared to kill them; but at last contented themselves with breaking their fasces, tearing off their robes, and sending them away with every mark of disgrace. The very sight of them, robbed as they were of the ensigns of their authority, spread sorrow and consternation in Rome, and announced a sedi- tion, for which there was no longer either restraint or remedy. Marius prepared to repel force with force. Sylla moved from Nola at the head of six complete legions, and had his colleague along with him. His army, he saw, was ready at the first word to march to Rome, but he was unresolved in his own mind, and apprehensive of the danger However, upon his offering sacrifice, the sooth- sayer Posthurnius had no sooner inspected the en- trails, than he stretched out both his hands to Syl- la, and proposed to be kept in chains until after the battle, in order for the worst of punishments, if everything did not soon succeed entirely to the general's wish. It is said, too, that there appeared to Sylla in a dream, the goddess whose worship the Romans received from the Cappadocians, whether it be the Moon, Minerva, or Bellona. She seemed to stand by him, and put thunder in his hand, and having called his enemies by name one after another, bdde him strike them: they fell, and were consumed by it to ashes. Encouraged by this vision, which he related next morning to his colleague, he took his way toward Rome. When he had reached Picina?,* he was met by an embassy, that entreated him not to advance in that hostile manner, since the senate had come to a resolution to do him all the justice he could de- sire. He promised to grant all they asked; and, as if he intended to encamp there, ordered his officers as usual to mark out the ground. The ambassadors took their leave with entire confi- dence in his honor. But as soon as they were gone, he dispatched Basillus and CaiusMummius to make themselves masters of the gate and the wall by tb.e ^Esquiline mount. He himself follow ed with the utmost expedition. Accordingly Basillus and his party seized the gate and entered the city. But the unarmed multitude got upon the tops of the houses, and with stones and tiles drove them back to the foot of the wall. At that moment Sylla arrived, and seeing the opposition his soldiers met with, called out to them to set fire to the houses. He took a flaming torch in his own hands, and advanced before them. At tho same time he ordered his archers to shoot fire ar- rows at the roofs. Reason had no longer any power over him; passion and fury governed all his motions; his enemies were all he thought of; and in the thirst for vengeance, he made no ac- count of his friends nor took the least compassion on his relations. Such was the case, when he made his way with fire, which makes no distinc- tion between the innocent and the guilty. Meanwhile, Marius, who was driven back to the temple of Vesta, proclaimed liberty to the slaves that would repair to his standard. But the enemy pressed on with so much vigor, that he was forced to quit the city. Sylla immediately assembled the senate, and got Marius and a few others, condemned to death. The tribune Sulpitius, who was one of the num- ber, was betrayed by one of his own slaves, and brought to the block. Sylla gave the slave his freedom, and then had him thrown down the Tar- peian rock. As for Marius he set a price upon his head; in which he behaved neither with grati- tude nor good policy, since he had not long before fled into the house of Marius, and put his life in his hands, and yet was dismissed in safety. Had Marius, instead of letting him go, given him up to Sulpitius, who thirsted for his blood, he might have been absolute master of Rome. But he spared his enemy; and a few days after, when there was an * There being no place between Nola and Rome, called Picinee, Lubinus thinks we should read Pictze, which was a place of public entertainment about twenty-five miles from the capital. Strabo and Antoninus (in his Itinerary) mei>- ! tion it as such. PLUTARCH'S LIVES. opportunity for bis return, met not with the same [ generous treatment. The senate did not express the concern which this gave them. But the people openly and by facts showed their resentment and resolution to make reprisals. For they rejected his nephew, Nonius, who relied on his recommendation, and his fellow-candidate Servius, in an ignominious manner, and appointed others to the consulship, whose promotion they thought would be most dis- agreeable to him. Sylla pretended great satisfac- tion at the thing, and said, "He was quite happy to see the people by his means enjoy the liberty of proceeding as they thought proper." Nay, to obviate their hatred, he proposed Lucius Cinna, who was of the opposite faction, for consul, but first laid him under the sanction of a solemn oath to assist him in all his affairs. Cinna went up to the cupitol with a stone in his hand. There he swore before all the world, to preserve the friend- ship between them inviolable, adding this impre- cation, "If I be guilty of any breach of it, may I be driven from the city, as this stone is from my hand!" at the same time he threw the stone upon the ground. Yet, as soon as he was entered upon his office, he began to raise new commotions, and set up an impeachment against Sylla, of which Vir- giuius, one of the tribunes, was to be the manager. But Sylla left both the manager and the impeach- ment behind him and set forward against Mithridates. About the time that Sylla set sail from Italy, Mithridates, we are told, was visited with many ill presages at Pergamus. Among the rest an image of Victory, bearing a crown, which was contrived to be let down by a machine, broke just as it was going to put the crown upon his head, and the crown itself was dashed to pieces upon the floor of the theater. The people of Pergamus were seized with astonishment, and Mithridates felt no small concern, though his affairs then prospered beyond his hopes. For he had taken Asia from the Romans, and Bithynia and Cappadocia from their respective kings, and was set down in quiet at Pergamus, disposing of rich governments and kingdoms among his friends at pleasure. As for his sons, the eldest governed in peace the ancient kingdoms of Pontus and Bosphorus, extending as far as the deserts above the Mseotic lake; the other, named Ariarathes, was subduing Thrace and Macedonia, with a great army. His generals with their armies were reducing other considera- ble places. The principal of these was Archelaus, who commanded the seas with his fleet, was con- quering the Cyclades, and all the other islands within the bay of Malea, and was master of Euboea itself. He met, indeed, with some check at Chae- ronea. There Brutius Sura, lieutenant to Sentius, who commanded in Macedonia, a man distinguish- ed by his courage and capacity, opposed Arche- laus, who was overflowing Boeotia like a torrent, defeated him in three engagements near Chsero- nea, and confined him again to the sea. But, as Lucius Lucullus came and ordered him to give place to Sylla, to whom that province, and the conduct of the war there, were decreed, he immedi- ately quitted Boeotia, and returned to Sentius, though his success was beyond all that he could have flattered himself with, and Greece was ready to declare again for the Romans on account of his valor and conduct. It is true, these were the most shining actions of Brutius's life. When Sylla was arrived, the cities sent ambas- sadors with an offer of opening their gates to him. Athens alone was held by its tyrant Aristion for Mithridates. He therefore attacked it with the Utmost vigor, invested the Pirreus, brought up all sorts of engines, and left no kind of assault what- ever unatternpted. Had he waited awhile, he might without the least danger have taken the upper town, which was already reduced by famine to the last extremity. But his haste to return to Rome, where he apprehended some change in af- fairs to his prejudice, made him run every risk, and spare neither men nor money, to bring this war to a conclusion. For, beside his other warlike equipage, he had ten thousand yoke of mules, which worked every day at the engines. As wood began to fail, by reason of the immense weights which broke down his machines, or theii being burned by the enemy, he cut down the sa- cred groves. The shady walks of the academy and the Lyceum in the suburbs fell before his ax. And as the war required vast sums of money to support it, he scrupled not to violate the holy treasures of Greece, but took from Epidaurus, as well as Olympia, the most beautiful and precious of their gifts. He wrote also to the Amphicty- ones at Delphi, "That it would be best for them to put the treasures of Apollo in his hands: for either he would keep them safer than they could; or, if he applied them to his own use, would return the full value." Caphis, the Phocian, one of his friends, was sent upon this commission, and or- dered to have everything weighed to him. Caphis went to Delphi, but was loth to touch the sacred deposits, and lamented to the Amphictyones the necessity he was under,with many tears. Some said, they heard the sound of the lyre in the in- most sanctuary; and Caphis, either believing it, or willing to strike Sylla with a religious terror, sent him an account of it. ButJie wrote back in a jesting way, " That he was surprised Caphis should not know that music was the voice of joy, and not of resentment. He might, therefore bold- ly take the treasures, since Apollo gave him them with the utmost satisfaction." These treasures were carried off, without being seen by many of the Greeks. But of the royal offering, there remained a silver urn, which being so large and heavy, that no carriage could bear it, the Amphictyones were obliged to cut it in pieces. At sight of this they called to mind, one while Flaminius and Manius Acilius, and another while Paul us JSmilius; one of which having driven An- tiochus out of Greece, and the other subdued the king of Macedonia, not only kept their hands from spoiling the Grecian temples, but expressed their regard and reverence for them by adding new gifts. Those great men, indeed, were legally commissioned, and their soldiers were persons of sober minds, who had learned to obey their gene- rals without murmuring. The generals, with the magnanimity of kings, exceeded not private per- sons in their expenses, nor brought upon the state any charge but what was common and rea- sonable. In short, they thought it no less disgrace to flatter their own men, than to be afraid of the enemy. But the commanders of these times raised themselves to high posts by force, not by merit; and as they wanted soldiers to fight their countrymen rather than any foreign enemies, they were obliged to treat them with great complai- sance. While they thus bought their service, at the price of ministering to their vices, they were not aware that they were selling their country, and making themselves slaves to the meanest of mankind, in order to command the greatest and the best. This banished Marius from Rome, and afterward brought him back against Sylla. This made Cinna dip his hands in the blood of Octa- vius, and Fimbria the assassin of J'laccus. Sylla opened one of the first sources of tbia S YLL A. corruption. For, to draw the troops of other offi- cers from them, he lavishly supplied the wants of hisown. Thus, whileby one and the same means he Was inviting the former to desertion, and the lat- ter to luxury, he had occasion for infinite sums and particularly in this siege. For his passion for taking Athens was irresistibly violent: whether it was, that he wanted to fight against that city's ancient renown, of which nothing but the shadow now remained; or whether he could not bear the scoffs and taunts, with which Aristion, in all the wantonness of ribaldry, insulted him and Metella from the walls. The composition of this tyrant's heart was insolence and cruelty. He was the sink of all the follies and vices of Mithridates. Poor Athens which had got clear of innumerable wars, ty- rannies, and seditions, perished at last by this monster, as by a deadly disease. A bushel of wheat was now sold there for a thousand drachmas. The people ate not only the herbs and roots that grew about the citadel, but sodden leather and oil bags; while he was indulging him- self in riotous feasts and dancing in the day- time, or mimicking and laughing at the enemy. He let the sacred lamp of the goddess go out for want of oil, and when the principal priestess sent to ask him for half a measure of barley, he sent her that quantity of pepper. The senators and priests came to entreat him to take compas- sion on the city, and capitulate with SyHa, but he received them with a shower of arrows. At last, when it was too late, he agreed with much difficulty to send two or three of the companions of his riots to treat of peace. These, instead of making any proposals that tended to save the city, talked in a lofty manner about Theseus, and Eumolpus, and the conquest of the Medes; which provoked Sylla to say, "Go, my noble souls, and take back your fine speeches with you. For my part, I was not sent to Athens to learn its antiquities, but to chastise its rebel- lious people." In the meantime, Sylla's spies heard some old men, who were conversing in the Ceramicus, blame the tyrant for not securing the wall near the Heptachalcos, which was the only place not impregnable. They carried this news to Sylla; and he, far from disregarding it, went by night to take a view of that part of the wall, and found that it might be scaled. He then set immediate- ly about it; and he tells us in his Commentaries, that Marcus Teius * was the first man who mounted the wall. Teius there met with an ad- versary, and gave him such a violent blow on the skull that he broke his sword; notwithstanding which, he stood firm and kept his place. Athens,! therefore, was taken, as the old man had foretold. Sylla having leveled with the ground all that was between the Piroean gate and that called the Sacred, entered the town at mid- night, in a manner the most dreadful that can be conceived All the trumpets and horns sounded, and were answered by the shouts and clang of the soldiers, let loose to plunder and destroy. They rushed along the streets with drawn swords, and horrible was the slaughter they made. The number of the killed could not be compu- ted; but we may form some judgment of it, by the quantity of ground which was overflowed with blood. For, beside those that fell in other parts of the city, the blood that was shed in the mar- Probably it should be Ateins. ln the life of Crassns, one Ateius "is mentioned as a tribune of the people. 1 Athens was taken eighty-four years before the birth of ket-place only, covered all the Ceramicus as far as Dipylus. Nay, there are several who assure* us, it ran through the gates, and overspread the sub- urbs. But though such numbers were put to tha sword, there were as many who laid violent hands upon themselves, in grief for their sinking country. What reduced the best men among them to this despair of finding any mercy or moderate terms for Athens, was the well-known cruelty of Sylla. Yet partly by the intercession of Mi- dias and Callaphon, and the exiles who threw themselves at his feet, partly by the entreaties of the senators who attended him in that expedition, and being himself satiated with blood beside, he was at last prevailed upon to stop his h?nd: and, in compliment to the ancient Athenians, he said, " He forgave the many for the sake of the few, me living for the dead." He tells us in his Commentaries, that he took Athens on the calends of March, which falls in with the new moon in the month Anthesteri- on; when the Athenians were performing many rites in memory of the destruction of the coun- try by water; for the deluge was believed to have happened about that time of the year.* The city thus taken, the tyrant retired into tho citadel, and was besieged there by Curio, to whom Sylla gave that charge. He held out a consider- able time, but at last was forced to surrender for want of water. In this the hand of Heaven was very visible. For the very same day and hour that Aristion was brought out, the sky, which be- fore was perfectly serene, grew black with clouds, and such a quantity of rain fell, as quite over- flowed the citadel. Soon after this, Sylla made himself master of thePirseus; the most of which he laid in ashes, and among the rest, that admira- ble work, the arsenal, built by Philo. During these transactions, Taxiles, Mithri- dates's general, came down from Thrace and Ma- cedonia, with a hundred thousand foot, ten thou- sand horse, and fourscore and ten chariots armed with scythes, and sent to desire Archelaus to meet him there. Archelaus had then his station at Munychia, and neither chose to quit the sea, nor yet fight the Romans, but was persuaded his part was to protract the war, and to cut off the enemy's convoys. Sylla saw better than he the distress he might be in for provisions, and there- fore moved from that barren country, which was scarce sufficient to maintain his troops in time of peace, and led them into Boeotia. Most people thought this an error in his counsels, to quit the rocks of Attica, where, horse could hardly act, and to expose himself on the large and open plains of Bo3otia,when he knew the chief strength of the barbarians consisted in cavalry and chari- ots. But to avoid hunger and famine, he was forced, as we have observed, to hazard a battle. Beside, he was in pain for Hortensius, a man of great and enterprising spirit, who was bringing him considerable reinforcement from Thessaly and was watched by the barbarians in the straits. These were the reasons which induced Sylla to march into Boeotia. As for Hortensius, Caphis, a countrymen of ours, led him another way, and disappointed the barbarians. He conducted him by mount Parnassus to Tithora, which is now a large city, but was then only a fort situated on the brow of a steep precipice, where the Phocians of old took refuge, when Xerxes invaded their country. Hortensius, having pitched his tents there, in the clay-time kept off the enemy; and * The deluge of Ogyges happened teen hundred years before. in Attica, near s*ven- 810 PLUTARCH'S LIVES la the night made his way down the broken rocks to Patronis, where Sylla met him with all his forces. Thus united, they took possession of a fertile hill, in the middle of the plains of Elateia, well sheltered with trees, and watered at the bottom. It is called Philoboeotus, and is much commended by Sylla for the fruitfulness of its soil and its agreeable situation. When they were encamped, they appeared to the enemy no more than a hand- ful. They had not indeed above fifteen hundred horse, and not quite fifteen thousand foot. The other generals in a manner forced Archelaus upon action; and when they came to put their forces in order of battle, they filled the whole plain with horses, chariots, bucklers, and targets. The clamor and hideous roar of so many nations, ranked thick together, seemed to rend the sky; and the pomp and splendor of their appearanqp was not without its use in exciting terror. For the luster of their arms, which were richly adorn- ed with gold and silver, and the colors of their Median and Scythian vests, intermixed with brass and polished steel, when the troops were in mo- tion, kindled the air with an awful flame like that of lightning. The Romans, in great consternation, shut themselves up within their trenches. Sylla could not with all his arguments remove their fears; and as he did not choose to force them into the field in this dispirited condition, he sat still, and bore, though with great reluctance, the vain boasts and insults of the barbarians. This was of more service to him than any other measure he could have adopted. The enemy, who held him in great contempt, and were not before very obedient to their own generals, by reason of their number, now forgot all discipline, and but few of them remained within their intrenchments. In- vited by rapine and plunder, the greatest part had dispersed themselves, and were got several days' journey from th^ camp. In these excursions, it is said, they ruined the city of Panopea, sacked Lebadia, and pillaged a temple where oracles were delivered, without orders from any one of their generals. Sylla, full of sorrow and indignation to have these cities destroyed before his eyes, was willing to try what effect labor would have upon his sol- diers. He compelled them to dig trenches, to draw the Cephisus from its channel, and made them work at it without intermission; standing inspector himself, and severely punishing all whom he found remiss. His view in this was to lire them with labor, that they might give the preference to danger; and it answered the end he proposed. On the third day of their drudgery, as Sylla passed by, they called out to lead them against the enemy. Sylla said, " it is not any in- clination to fight, but an unwillingness to work, that puts you upon this request. If you really want to come to an engagement, go, sword in hand, and seize that post immediately." At the same time, he pointed to the place, where had formerly stood the' citadel of the Paropotarnians; but all the buildings were now demolished, and there was nothing left but a craggy and steep mountain, just separated from mount Edylium by the river Assus, which at the foot of the mountain falls into the Cephisus. The river growing very rapid by this confluence, makes the ridge a safe place for an encampment. Sylla see- ing those of the enemy's troops called Chalcas- pides, hastening to seize that post, wanted to gain it before them, and by availing himself of the present spirit of his men, he succeeded. Arche- laus, upon the disappointment, turned his arm* against ChaBronea; the inhabitants, in consequence of their former connections with Sylla, entreated him not to desert the place; upon which he sent along with them the military tribune Gabinius with one legion. The Cha3roneans,with all their ardor to reach the city, did not arrive sooner than CJabi- m'us: such was his honor, when engaged in their defense, that it even eclipsed the zeal of those who implored his assistance. Juba tells us, that it was not Gabinius but Ericius,* who was dis- patched on this occasion. In this critical situa- tion, however, was the city of ChaBronea. The Romans now received from Lebadia and the cave of Trophonius very agreeable accounts of oracles, that promised victory. The inhabit- ants of that country tell us many stories about them; but what Sylla himself writes, in the tenth book of his Commentaries, is this: Quintus Titius, a man of some note among the Roman? em- ployed in Greece, came to him one day after he. had gained the battle of ChaBronea, and told him, that Trophonius foretold another battle to be fought shortly in the same place, in which he should likewise prove victorious. After him, came a pri- vate soldier of his own, with a promise from heaven of the glorious success that would attend his affairs in Italy. Both agreed as to the man- ner in which these prophesies were communica- ted: they said the deity that appeared to them, both in heauty and majesty, resembled the Olym- pian Jupiter. When Sylla had passed the Assus, he encamp- ed under mount Edyliurn, over against Archelaus, who had strongly intrenched himself between Acontium and Edyliuro, aear a place called As- sia. That spot of ground bears the name of Ar- chelaus to this day. Sylla pawed one day with- out attempting anything. The day following, he left MuraBiia with a legion and two cohorts, to harass the enemy, who waie already in some dis- order, while he himself went and sacrificed on the banks of the Cephisus. After the ceremony was over, he proceeded to ChaBronea, to join the forces there, and to take a view of Thurium, a post which the enemy had gained before him. This is a craggy eminence, running up gradually to a point which we express in our language by the term Orthopagus. At the foot of it runs the river Morius,f and by it stands the temple of Apollo Thurius. Apollo is so called from Thuro the mother of Cheron, who. as history informs us, was the founder of Chseronea. Others say, that the heifer which the Pythian Apollo appoint- ed Cadmus for his guide, first presented herself theie, and that the place was thence named Thurium; for the Phoenicians called a heifer Thor. As Sylla approached ChaBronea, the tribune who had the city in charge, let out his troops to meet him, having himself a crown of laurel in his hands. Just as Sylla received them, and began to animate them to the intended enterprise, Horno- loicus and Anaxidramus, two ChaBroneans, ad- dressed him, with a promise to cut off the corps that occupied Thurium, if he would give them a small party to support them in the attempt. For there was a path which the barbarians were not apprized of, leading from a place called Petrochus, by the temple of the Muses, to a part of the moun- tain that overlooked them; from whence it was * It is probable it should be read Hirtius; for so some manuscripts have it, where the same person is mentioned again afterward. t This river is afterward called Molus; but which is tb# right reading is uncertain. SYLLA. 311 tasy either to destroy them with stones, or drive them down into the plain Sylla finding the cha- racter of these men for courage and fidelity sup- ported by Gabinius, ordered them to put the thing in execution. Meantime, he drew up his forces, and placed the cavalry in the wings; taking the right himself, and giving the left to Mursana. Gall us* and Hortensius, his lieutenants, com- manded u body of reserve in the rear, and kept watch upon the bights, to prevent their being sur- rounded. For it was easy to see that the enemy were preparing with their wings, which consisted of an infinite number of horse, and all their light- armed fool, troops that could move with great agility, and wind away at pleasure, to take a cir- cuit, and quite inclose the Roman army. In the meantime, the two Chajroneans, support- ed, according to Sylla's order, by a party com- manded by Ericus, stole unobserved up Thuriurn, and gained the summit. As soon as they made their appearance, the barbarians were struck with consternation, and sought refuge in flight; but in the confusion, many of them perished by means of each other. For, unable to find any firm footing, as they moved down the steep mountain, they fell upon the spears of those that were next before them, or else pushed them down the precipice. All this while the enemy were pressing upon them from above, and galling them behind; insomuch that three thousand men were killed upon Thu- rium. As to those who got down, some fell into the hands of Mursena, who met them in good order and easily cut them in pieces; others, who fled to the main body, under Archelaus, wherever they fell in with it, filled it with terror and dismay; and this was the thing that gave the officers most trouble, and principally occasioned the defeat. Sylla, taking advantage of their disorder, moved with such vigor and expedition to the charge, that he prevented the effect of the armed chariots. For the chief strength of those chariots consists in the course they run, and in the impetuosity conse- quent upon it; and if they have but a short com- pass, they are as insignificant as arrows sent from a bow not well drawn. This was the case at pre- sent with respect to the barbarians. Their chariots moved at first so slow, and their attacks were so lifeless, that the Romans clapped their hands, and received them with the utmost ridicule. They even called for fresh ones, as they used to do in the Hippodrome at Rome. Upon this, the infantry engaged. The barbari- ans, for their part, tried what the long pikes would do; and, by locking their shields together, endea- vored to keep themselves in good order. As for the Romans, after their spears had had all the effect that could be expected from them, they drew their swords, and met the ci meters of the enemy with a strength which a just indignation inspires. For Mithridates's generals had brought over fifteen thousand slaves upon a proclamation of liberty, and placed them among the heavy- armed infantry. On which occasion, a certain centurion is said thus to have expressed himself "Surely these are the Saturnalia; for we never saw slaves have any share of liberty at another time." However, as their ranks were so close, and their file so deep, that they could not easily be broken; and as they exerted a spirit which could not be expected from them, they were not repulsed and put in disorder until the archers and slingers of the second line discharged all their fury upon them. *Guarin, after Appian's Mithrid. reads Galba. And so it is in several manuscripts. Uacier proposes to read Balbus^ which name occurs afterward. Archelaus was now extending his right wing, in order to surround the Romans, and Hortensius, with the cohorts under his command, pushed down to take him in the flank. But Archelaus by a sudden maneuver, turned against him with two thousand horse, whom he had at hand, and, by little and little, drove him toward the moun- tains; so that being separated from the main body, he was in danger of being quite hemmed in by the enemy. Sylla, informed of this, pushed up with his right wing, which had not yet engaged, to the assistance of Hortensius. On the other hand, Archelaus, conjecturing, from the dust that flew about, the real state of the case, left Horten- sius, and hastened back to the right of the Roman arrny, from whence Sylla had advanced, in hopes of finding it without a commander. At the same time, Tuxiles led on the Chalcaspi- des against Muraena, so that shouts were set up on both sides, which were re-echoed by the neigh- boring mountains. Sylla now stopped to consider which way he should direct his course. At length concluding to return to his own post, he sent Hor- tensius, with four cohorts, to the assistance of Muraena, and himself with the fifth made up to his right wing with the utmost expedition. He found that, without him, it kept a good counte- nance against the troops of Archelaus; but as soon as he appeared, his men made such prodigious efforts, that they routed the enemy entirely, and pursued them to the river and mount Acontium. Amidst this success, Sylla was not unmindful of Muraena's danger, but hastened with a rein- forcement to that quarter. He found him, how- ever, victorious, and therefore had nothing to do but join in the pursuit. Great numbers of the barbarians fell in the field of battle, and still greater as they were endeavoring to gain their intrench- ments; so that, out of so many myriads, only ten thousand men reached Chalcis. Sylla says, ho missed only fourteen of his men, and two of these came up in the evening. For this reason, he in- scribed his trophies to Mars, to Victory, and Ve- nus, to show that he was no less indebted to good fortune, than to capacity and valor, Tor the advan- tages he had gained^ The trophy I am speaking of, was erected for the victory won on the plain, where the troops of Archelaus began to give way, and to fly to the river Molus. The other trophy upon the top of Thurium, in memory of their getting above the barbarians, was inscribed in Greek characters, to the valor of Homoloickus and Anaxidamas. He exhibited games on this occasion at Thebes, in a theater erected for that purpose, near the fountain of CEdipns.* But the judges were taken from other cities of Greece, by reason of the im- placable hatred he bore the Thebans. He deprived them of half their territories, which he consecra- ted to the Pythian Apollo and the Olympian Ju- piter; leaving orders, that out of their revenues the money should be repaid which he had taken from their temples. After this, he received news that Flaccus, who was of the opposite faction, was elected consul, and that he was bringing a great army over the Ionian, in pretense against Mithridates, but in reality against him. He therefore marched into Thessaly to meet him. However, when he was arrived at Melitea, intelligence was brought him from several quarters, that the countries behind him were laid waste by another army of the king'?, superior to the former. Dorylaus was arrived at * Pausanias tells us, this fountain was so called, becaiu* OEdipus there washed off the b!oo(? he was stained with i the murder of his father 312 PLUTARCH'S LIVES Chalcis with a .arge fleet, which brought over eighty thousand men, of the best equipped and best disciplined troops of Mithridates. With these he entered Bosotia, and made himself master of the country, in hopes of drawing Sylla to a battle. Archelaus remonstrated against that measure, but Dorylaus was so far from regarding him, that he scrupled not to assert, that so many myriads of men could not have been lost without treachery. But Sylla soon turned back and showed Dorylaus how prudent the advice was which he had rejected, and what a proper sense its author had of the Ro- man valor. Indeed, Dorylaus himself, after some slight skirmishes with Sylla at Tilphosium, was the first to agree that action was not the thing to be pursued any longer, but that the war was to be spun out, and decided at last by dint of money. However, the plain of Orchomenus, where they were encamped, being most advantageous for those whose chief strength consisted in cavalry, gave fresh spirits to Archelaus. For of all the plains of Boeotia, the largest and most beautiful is this, which, without either tree or bush, extends itself from the gates of Orchonesus to the fens in which the river Mclas loses itself. That river rises un- der the walls of the city just mentioned, and is the only Grecian river which is navigable from its source. About the summer solstice it over- flows like the Nile, and produces plants of the same nature; only they are meager, and bear but little fruit. Its course is short, great part of it soon stopping in those dark and muddy fens. The rest falls into the river Cephisus, about the place where the water is bordered with such excellent canes for flutes. The two armies being encamped opposite each other, Archelaus attempted not anything. But Sylla began to cut trenches in several parts of the field, that he might, if possible, drive the ene- my from the firm ground, which was so suitable for cavalry, and force them upon the morasses. The barbarians could not bear this, but, upon the first signal from their generals, rode up at full speed, and handled the laborers so rudely, that they all dispersed. The corps, too, designed to support them, was put to flight. Sjlla, that moment, leaped from his horse, seized one of the ensigns, and pushed through the middle of the fugitives, toward the enemy, crying out, " Here, Romans, is the bed of honor I am to die in. Do you, when you are asked where you betrayed your general, remember to say, it was at Orchomenus." These words stopped them in their flight: beside, two cohorts came from the right wing to his assistance, and, at the head of this united corps, he repulsed the enemy. Sylla then drew back a little, to give his troops some refreshment; after which he brought them to work again, intending to draw a line of circum- vallation round the barbarians. Hereupon, they returned in better order than before. Diogenes, sou- in- 1 aw to Archelaus, fell gloriously, as he was performing wonders on the right. Their archers were charged so close by the Romans, that they had not room to manage their bows, and, there- fore, took a quantity of arrows in their hands, which they used instead of swords, and with them killed several of their adversaries. At last, how- ever, they were broken and shut up in their camp, where they passed the night in great misery, on account of their dead and wounded. Next morn- ing, Sylla drew out his men to continue the trench; and, as numbers of the barbarians came out to engage him. he attacked and routed them so effec- tually, that, in the terror they were in, none stood to guard the camp, and he entered it with them. The fens were then filled with the blood of th slain, and the lake with dead bodies; insomuch, that even now many of the weapons of the barba- rians, bows, helmets, fragments of iron breast- plates, and swords, are found buried in the mud, though it is almost two hundred years since the battle. Such is the account we have of the ac- tions at Clueronea and Orchomenus. Meanwhile Cinna and Carbo behaved with so much rigor and injustice at Rome, to persons of the greatest distinction, that many, to avoid their tyranny, retired to Sylla's camp, as to a safe har- bor; so that, in a little time, he had a kind of senate about him. Mrtella, with much difficulty, stole from Rome with his children, and came to tell him, that his enemies had burned his house and all his villas, and to entreat him to return home, where his help was so much wanted. He was much perplexed in his deliberations, neither choosing to neglect his afflicted country, nor knowing how to go and leave such an important object as the Mithridatic war in so unfinished a state, when he was addressed by a merchant of Delium, called Archelaus, on the part of the gene- ral of that name, who wanted to sound him about an accommodation, and to treat privately of the conditions of it. Sylla was so charmed with the thing, that he hastened to a personal conference with the gen- eral. Their interview was on the sea-coast near Delium, where stands a celebrated temple of Apol- lo. Upon their meeting, Archelaus proposed that Sylla should quit the Asiatic and Politic expedi- tion, and turn his whole attention to the civil war, engaging on the king's behalf to supply him with money, vessels, and troops. Sylla proposed an answer, that Archelaus should quit the interest of Mithridates, be appointed king in his place, as- sume the title of an ally to the Romans, and put the king's shipping in his hands. When Arche- laus expressed his detestation of this treachery, Sylla thus proceeded: " Is it possible, then, that you, Archelaus, a Cappadocian, the slave, or, if you please, the friend of a barbarous king, should be shocked at a proposal, which, however in some respects exceptionable, must be attended with the most advantageous consequences? Is it possible that to me, the Roman general, to Sylla, you should take upon you to talk of treachery? As if you were not that same Archelaus, who at Chceronea fled with a handful of men, the poor remains of a hundred and twenty thousand, who hid himself two days in the marshes of Orchome- nus, and left the roads of Boeotia blocked up with heaps of dead bodies." Upon this, Archelaus had recourse to entreaty, and begged at last a peace for Mithridates. This was allowed upon certain conditions Mithridates was to give up Asia and Paphlagonia, cede Bithynia to Nicodemes, and Cappadocia to Ariobarzanes. He was to allow the Romans two thousand talents to defray the expense of the war, beside seventy armed galleys fully equipped. SyHa, on the other hand, was to secure Mithridates in the rest of his dominions, and procure him the title of friend and ally to the Romans. These conditions being accepted and negotiated,, Sylla returned through Thessaly and Macedonia to'ward the Hellespont. Archelaus, who accom- panied him, was treated with the greatest respect, and when he happened to fall sick at Larissa, Sylla halted there for some lime, and showed him all the attention he could have paid to his own gen- eral officers, or even to his colleague himself. Thia circumstance rendered the battle of Chreronea a little suspected, as if it had been gained by unfair SYLLA. 313 means; and what added to the suspicion, was the restoring of all the prisoners of Mithridates. ex- cept Aristion, the avowed enemy of Archelaus, who was taken off by poison. But what con- firmed the whole, was the cession of ten thousand cres in Enboea to the Cappadocian, and the title that was given hirn of friend and ally to the Ro- mans. Sylla, however, in his Commentaries, ob- viates all these censures. During his stay at Larissa, he received an em- bassy from Mithridates, entreating him not to Insist upon his giving up Paphlagonia, and repre- senting that the demand of shipping was inad- missible. Sylla heard these remonstrances with indignation " What," said he, "does Mithridates pretend to keep Paphlagonia, and refuse to send the vessels I demanded? Mithridates, whom I should have expected to entreat rne on his knees that I would spare that right hand which had slain so many Romans But I am satisfied that, when I return to Asia he will change his style. While he resides at Pergarnus, he can direct at ease the War he has not seen." The ambassadors were struck dumb with this indignant answer, while Archelaus endeavored to soothe and appease the anger of Sylla, by every mitigating expression and bathing his hand with his tears. At length he prevailed on the Roman general to send him to Mithridates, assuring him that he would obtain his consent to all the articles, or perish in the attempt. Sylla upon this assurance dismissed him, and Invaded Media, where he committed great depre- dations, and then returned to Macedonia. He received Archelaus at Philippi, who informed him that he had succeeded perfectly well in his nego- tiation, but that Mithridates was extremely desi- rous of an interview. His reason for it was this: Fimbria, who had slain the consul Flaccus, one of the heads of the opposite faction, and defeated the king's generals, was now inarching against Mithridates himself. Mithridates, alarmed at this, wanted to form a friendship with Sylla. Their interview was at Dardanus in the coun- try of Troas. Mithridates came with two hun- dred galleys, an army of twenty thousand foot, six thousand horse, and a great number of armed chariots. Sylla had no more than four cohorts and two hundred horse. Mithridates came for- ward, and offered hirn his hand, but Sylia first asked him, " Whether he would stand to 'the con- ditions that Archelaus had settled with him? " The king hesitated upon it, and Sylla then said, ** It is for petitioners to speak first*, and for con- querors to hear in silence." Mithridates then be- gan a long harangue, in which he endeavored to apologize for himself, by throwing the blame partly upon the gods and partly upon the Romans. At length Sylla interrupted him "I have often," said he, " heard that Mithridates was a good ora- tor, but now I know it by experience, since he has been able to give a color to such unjust and abom- inable deeds." Then he set forth in bitter terms and in such a manner as could not be replied to, the king's shameful conduct, and in conclusion asked him again, " Whether he would abide by the conditions settled with Archelaus?" Upon his answering in the affirmative, Sylla took him in his arms and saluted him. Then he presented to him the two kings Ariobarzanes and Nicome- des, and reconciled them to each other. Mithridates, having delivered up to him seventy of his ships, and five hundred archers, sailed back to Pontus, Sylla perceived that his troops were much offended at the peace: they thought it an insufferable thing, that a prince who, of all the kings in the universe, was the bitterest enemy to Rome, who had caused a hundred and fifty thou- sand Romans to be murdered in Asia in one day, should go off with the wealth and spoils of Asia, which he had been plundering and oppressing full four years. But he excused himself to them by observing, that they should never have been able to carry on the war against both Fimbria and Mithridates, if they had joined their forces. From thence he marched against Fimbria, who was encamped at Thyatira; and having marked out a camp very near him, he began upon the intrenchrnent. The soldiers of Fimbria came out in their vests, and saluted those of Sylla, and readily assisted them in their work. Fimbria seeing this desertion, and withal dreading Sylla as an implacable enemy, dispatched himself upon the spot. Sylla laid a fine upon Asia of twenty thousand talents; and beside this, the houses of private per- sons were ruined by the insolence and disorder of the soldiers lie quartered upon them. For he commanded every householder to give the soldiers who lodged with him sixteen drachmas a day, and to provide a supper for him and as many friends as he chose to invite. A centurion was to have fifty drachmas a day, and one dress to wear within doors, and another in public. These things settled, he set sail from Ephesus with his whole fleet, and reached the harbor of Piraeus the third day. At Athens he got himself initiated in the mysteries of Ceres, and from that city he took with him the library of A pell icon the Teian, in which were most of the works of Aris- totle and Theophrastus, books at that time not sufficiently known to the world. When they were brought to Rome, it is said that Tyrannic the grammarian, prepared many of them for pub- lication, and that Andronicus the Rhodian, getting the manuscripts by his means, did actually publish them, together with those indexes that are now in everybody's hands. The old Peripatetics appear indeed to have been men of curiosity and erudi- tion; but they had neither met with many of Aristotle's and Theophrastus's books, nor were those they did meet with correct copies; because the inheritance of Neleus the Scepsian, to whom Theophrastus left his works, fell into mean and obscure hands. During Sylla's stay at Athens, he felt a painful numbness in his feet, which Strabo calls the lisp- ing of the gout. This obliged him to sail to ^Edep- sus, for the benefit of the warm baths, where he lounged away the day with mimics and buffoons, and all the train of Bacchus. One day, as he was walking by the sea-side, some fishermen presented him with a curious dish of fish. Delighted with the present, he asked the people of what country they were, and when he heard they were Alse- ans, "What," said he, "are any of the Alasans alive? " for in pursuance of his victory at Orcho- menus, he had razed three cities of Bceotia, An- thedon, Larymna, and Alffia. The poor men were struck dumb with fear; but he told them, with a smile, " They might go away quite happy, for they had brought very respectable mediators with them." The Alaeans tell us, that from that time they took courage, and re-established them- selves in their old habitations. Sylla, now recovered, passed through Thessaly and Macedonia to the sea, intending to cross over from Dyrrachium to Brundusiurn with a fleet of twelve hundred sail. In that neighborhood stands Apollonia, near which is a remarkable spot of ground called Nymphseum.* The lawns and * In this place the nymphs had an oracle, of the mannei of coasulung which Dion (1. 41.) tells us several ridiculous 314 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. meadows are of incomparable verdure, though interspersed with springs from which continually issues fire. In this place, we are told, a satyr was taken asleep, exactly such as statuaries and painters represent to us. He was brought to Syl- la, and interrogated in many languages who he was, but he uttered nothing intelligible; his accent being harsh and inarticulate, something between the neighing of a horse and the bleating cf a goat. Sylla was shocked with his appearance, and or- dered him to be taken out of his presence. When he was upon the point of embarking with his troops, he began to be afraid, that as soon as they reached Italy, they would disperse and retire to their respective cities. Hereupon they came to him of their own accord, and took an oath that they would stand by him to the last, and not willfully do any damage to Italy. And as they saw he would want large sums of money, they went and collected each as much as they could afford, and brought it him. He did not, however, receive their contribution, but having thanked them for their attachment, and encouraging them to hope the best, he set sail. He had to go, as he himself tells us, against fifteen generals of the other party, who had under them no less than two hundred and fifty cohorts. But Heaven gave him evident tokens of success. He sacrificed immediately upon his landing at Tarentum, and the liver of the vic- tim had the plain impression* of a crown of laurel, with two strings hanging down. A little before his passage, there were seen in the day-time upon Mount Hephreumf in Campania, two great he- goats engaged, which used all the movements that men do in fighting. The phenomenon raised itself by degrees from the earth into the air, where it dispersed itself in the manner of shadowy phan- toms, and quite disappeared. A little after this, young Marius, and Norbanus the consul, with two very powerful bodies, pre- sumed to attack Sylla; who, without any regular disposition of his troops, or order of battle, by the mere valor and impetuosity of his soldiers, after having slain seven thousand of the enemy, obliged Norbanus to seek a refuge within the walls of Capua. This success he mentions as the cause why his soldiers did not desert, but despised the enemy, though greatly superior in numbers. He tells us, moreover, that an enthusiastic servant of Pontius, in the town of Silvium, announced him victorious, upon the communicated authority of Bellona, but informed him, at the same time, that if he did not hasten, the Capitol would be burned. This actually happened on the day pre- dicted, which was the sixth of July. About this time it was that Marcus Lucullus, one of Syl- la's officers, who had no more than sixteen co- horts under his command, found himself on the point of engaging an enemy who had fifty; though he had the utmost confidence in the valor of his troops, yet, as many of them were without arms, he was doubtful about the onset. While he was deliberating about the matter, a gentle breeze bore from a neighboring field a quantity of flowers, that fell on the shields and helmets of the soldiers in such a manner that they appeared to be crowned with garlands. This circumstance had such an effect upon them,} that they charged the enemy stories. Strabo, speaking of it in his seventh book, tells us, the Nymphseum is a rock, out of which issues fire, and that bene;ith it flows streams of flaming bitumen. * The priests traced the figures they wanted upon the liver on their hands, and, by holding it very close, easily made the impression upon it "while it was warm and pliant. t There is no such mountain as Hephaeum known. Livy mentions the hills of Tisita, near Capus. t The use that the ancient Eomans as well as Greeks with double, vigor and courage, killed eighteen thousand, and became complete masters of the field, and of the camps. This Marcus Lucullus was brother to that Lucullus who afterward con- quered Mithridates and Tigranes. Sylla still saw himself surrounded with armies and powerful enemies, to whom he was inferior in point of force, and therefore had recourse to fraud. He made Scipio, one of the consuls, some proposals for an accommodation, upon which many interviews and conferences ensued. But Sylla, always finding some pretense for gaining time, was corrupting Scipio's soldiers all the while by means of his own, who were as well practiced as their general in every art of solicitation. They entered their adversaries' camp, and, mixing among them, soon gained them over, some by money, some by fair promises, and others by the most in- sinuating adulation. At last, Sylla advancing to their intrenchrnents with twenty cohorts, Scipio's men saluted them as fellow- soldiers, and came out and joined them; so that Scipio was left alone in his tent, where he was taken, but im mediately after dismissed in safety. These twenty cohorts were Sylla's decoy birds, by which he drew forty more into his net, and then brought them altoge- ther into his camp. On this occasion Carbo is reported to have said, that in Sylla he had to con- tend both with a fox and a lion, but the fox gave him the most trouble. The year following, young Marius being con- sul, and at the 'head of fourscore cohorts, gave Sylla the challenge. Sylla was very ready to ac- cept it that day in particular, on account of a dream he had the night before. He thought he saw old Marius, who had now long been dead, advising his son to beware of the ensuing day as big with mischief to him. This made Sylla impatient of the combat. The first step he took toward it was to send for Dolabella, who had en- camped at some distance. The enemy had block- ed up the roads; and Sylla's troops were much harassed in endeavoring to open them. Beside, a violent rain happened to fall, and still more in- commoded them in their work. Hereupon, the officers went and entreated Sylla to defer the bat- tle until another day, showing him how his men were beaten out with fatigue, and seated upon the ground with their shields under them. Sylla yielded to their arguments, though with great reluctance, and gave them orders to intrench themselves. They were just begun to put these orders hi execution, when Marius rode boldly up in hopes of finding them dispersed and in great disorder. Fortune seized this moment for accomplishing Sylla's dream. His soldiers, fired with indigna- tion, left their work, stuck their pikes in the trench, and with drawn swords and loud shouts, ran to the charge. The enemy made but a slight resistance; they were routed, and vast numbers slain in their flight. Marius himself fled to Prse- neste, where he found the gates shul ; but a rope was let down, to which he fastened himself, and so he was taken up over the wall. Some authors, indeed, write, and among the rest Fenestal'a, that Marius saw nothing of the battle, but that, being oppressed with watching made of enthusiasm and superstition, in war particularly, was so great and so frequent, that, it appears to take off much from the idea of their native color and valor. Tha slightest circumstance, as in the improbable instance refer- red to, of a preternatural kind, or bearing the least shadow of a religious ceremony, would animate them to those ex plolts, which, though a' rational valor was certainly capable of effecting them, without such influence, they would cevo." have undertaken. S YLL A. 315 and fatigue, he laid himself down in a shade, after the signal -<vas given, and was not waked without difficulty when all was lost. SylUi says, he lost only three-and-twenty men in this battle, though he killed ten thousand of the enemy, and took eight thousand prisoners. He was equally successful with respect to his lieutenants, Pompey, Crassus, Me tell us, and Servilius, who, without any mis- carriage at all, or with none of any consequence, defeated great and powerful armies; insomuch that Carbo, who was the chief support of the opposite party, stole out of his camp by night, and passed over into Africa. The last conflict Sylla had, was with Telesinus the Samnite, who entered the lists like a fresh champion against one that was weary, and was near throwing him at the very gates of Rome. Telesinus had collected a great body of forces, with the assistance of a Lucanian named Lam- ponius, and was hastening to the relief of Marius, who was besieged in Prseneste. But he got intelli- gence that Sylla and Pompey were advancing against him by long marches, the one to take him in front, and the other in rear, and that he was in the utmost danger of being hemmed in both be- fore and behind. In this case, like a man of great abilities and experience of the most critical kind, he decamped by night, and marched with his whole army directly toward Rome; which was in so unguarded a condition, that he might have entered it without difficulty. But he stopped when he was only ten furlongs from the Colline gate, and contented himself with passing the night before the walls, greatly encouraged and elevated at the thought of having outdone so many great commanders in poi^t of generalship. Early next morning the young nobility mount- ed their horses and fell upon him. He defeated them and killed a considerable number; among the rest fell Appius Claudius, a young man of spirit, and of one of the most illustrious families in Rome. The city was now full of terror and con- fusion the women ran about the streets, bewail- ing themselves, as if it was just going to be taken by assault when Balbus, who was sent before by Sylla, appeared advancing at full speed with seven hundred horse. He stopped just long enough to give his horses time to cool, and then bridled them again, and proceeded to keep the enemy in play. In the meantime Sylla made his appearance; and having caused his first ranks to take a speedy refreshment, he began to put them in order of battle. Dolabella and Torquatus pressed him to wait some time, and not lead his men in that fatigued condition to an engagement that must prove decisive. For he had not now to do with Carbo and Marius, but with Samnites and Luca- nians, the most inveterate enemies to the Roman name. However, he overruled their motion, and ordered the trumpets to sound to the charge, though it was now so late as the tenth hour of the day. There was no battle during the whole war fought with such obstinacy as this. The right wing, commanded by Crassus, had greatly the advantage; but the left was much distressed, and began to give way. Sylla made up to its assist- ance. He rode awhile horse of uncommon spirit and swiftness; and two of the enemy, knowing him by it, leveled their spears at him. He him- self perceived it not, but his groom did, and with a sudden lash made the horse spring forward, so that the spears only grazed his tail, and fixed themselves in the ground. It is said that in all his battles he wore in his bosom a small golden image of Apolio, which he brought from Delphi. On this occasion he kissed it with particular devo- j tion,* and addressed it in these terms: " Pythian Apollo, who hast conducted the fortunate-Corne- lius Sylla through so many engagements with honor; when thou hast brought him to the threshold of his country, wilt thou let him fall there inglorious by the hands of his own citizens?" After this act of devotion, Sylla endeavored to rally his men: some he entreated, some he threat- ened, and others he forced back to the charge, But at length his whole left wing was routed, and he was obliged to mix with the fugitives to regain his camp, after having lost many of his friends of the highest distinction. A good number, too, of those who came out of the city to see the battle, were trodden under foot and perished. Nay, Rome itself was thought to be absolutely lost; ami the siego of Proeneste, where Marius had taken"up his quarters, near being raised. For after the defeat many of the fugitives repaired thither, and desired Lucretius Ofella, who had the direction of the siege, to quit it immediately, because (they said) Sylla was slain, and his enemies masters of Rome. But the same evening, when it was quite dark, there came persons to Sylla's camp, on the part of Crassus, to desire refreshment for him and his soldiers. For he had defeated the enemy, and pursued them to Antemna, where he was set down to besiege them. Along with this news Sylla was informed that the greatest part of the enemy was cut off in the action. As soon, therefore, as it was day, he repaired to Antemna. There three thousand of the other faction sent deputies to him to intercede for mercy ; and he promised them impunity, on condition that they would come to him after some notable stroke against the rest of his enemies. Confiding in his honor, they fell upon another corps, and thus many of them were slain by the hands of their fellow-soldiers. Sylla, however, collected these, and what was left of the others, to the number of six thousand, into the Circus; and at the same time assembled the senate in the temple of Bellona. The moment he began his harangue, his soldiers, as they had been order- ed, fell upon those six thousand poor wretches, and cut them in pieces. The cry of such a num- ber of people massacred in a place of no great extent, as may well be imagined, was very dread- ful. The senators were struck with astonishment. But he, with a firm and unaltered countenance continuing his discourse, bade them " attend to what he was saying, and not trouble themselves about what was doing without; for the noise they heard came only from some malefactors, whom he had ordered to 'j(3 chastised." It was evident *rom hence, to the least discern- ing among the Romans, that they were not de- livered from tyranny; they only changed their tyrant. Marius, indeed, from the first was of a harsh and severe disposition, and power did not produce, it only added to his cruelty. But Sylla, at the beginning, bore prosperity with great mo- deration; though he seemed more attached to the patricians, it was thought he would protect the rights of the people; he had loved to laugh from his youth, and had been so compassionate that he often melted into tears. This change in him, therefore, could not hut cast a blemish upon power. On his account it was believed, that high honors and fortunes will not sufier men's manners to. remain in their original simplicity, but thf? it begets in them insolence, arrogance, and in- humanity. Whether power does really produce such a change of disposition, or whether it only dis- * By this it appears, that the heathens niailo the same use of the images of their gods, which the Romanists do of images and reliques. 316 PLUTARCH'S LIVES plays the native badness of the heart, belongs, how- ever, to another department of letters to inquire. Sylla now turning himself to kill and destroy, filled the city with massacres, which had neither number nor bounds. He even gave up many persons against whom he had no complaint, to the private revenge of his creatures. At last one of the young nobility, named Cains Metellus, ven- tured to put these questions to him in the senate "Tell us, Sylla, when we shall have an end of our calamities? how far thou wilt proceed, and when we may hope thou wilt stop? We ask thee not to spare those whom thou hast marked out for punishment, but we ask an exemption from anxiety for those whom thou hast determined to save." Sylla said, " He did not yet know whom he should save." " Then," replied Metellus, " let us know whom thou intendest to destroy;" and Sylla answered, "He would do it." Sotne, in- deed, ascribe the last reply to Ausidius, one of Sylla's flatterers. Immediately upon this, he proscribed eighty citizens, without consulting any of the magistrates in the least. And as the public expressed their indignation at this, the second day after he pro- scribed two hundred and twenty more, and as many on the third. Then he told the people from the rostrum, " He had now proscribed all that he remembered; and such as he had forgot must come into some future proscription." Death was the punishment he ordained for any one who should harbor or save a person proscribed, with- out excepting a brother, a son, or a parent! Such was to be the reward of humanity. But two talents were to be the reward of murder, whether it were a slave that killed his master, or a son his father! The most unjust circumstance, however, of all seemed to be, that he declared the sons and grandsons of proscribed persons infamous, and confiscated their goods! The lists were put up not only at Rome, but in all the cities of Italy. Neither temple of the gods, nor paternal dwelling, nor hearth of hospi- tality, was aziy protection against murder. Hus- bands were dispatched in the bosoms of their wives, and sons in those of their mothers. And the sacrifices to resentment and revenge were no- thing to those who fell on account of their wealth. So that it was a common saying among the ruf- fians, "His fine house was the death of such a one, his gardens of another, and his hot baths of a third." Quintus Aurelius, a quiet man, who thought he could have no share in those miseries, but that which compassion gave him, carne one day into the forum, and out ol curiosity, read the names of the proscribed. Finding his own, how- ever, among the rest, he cried out, "Wretch that I am! my Alban villa pursues me;" and he had not gone far before a ruffian came up and killed him. In the meantime, young Marius being taken,* slew himself. Sylla then came to Praeneste, where at first he tried the inhabitants, and had them executed singly. But afterward finding he had not leisure for such formalities, he collected them to the number of twelve thousand, and order- ed them to be put to death, excepting only one who had formerly entertained him at his house. This man with a noble spirit told him, "He would never owe his life to the destroyer of his coun- try;" and voluntarily mixing with the crowd, he died with his fellow-citizens! The strangest, how- * He was not taken; but as he was endeavoring to make his escape by a subterraneous passage, heVound it beset by Sylla's soldiers; whereupon he ordered one of his slaves to kill him. ever, of all his proceedings, was that with re- spect to Catiline. This wretch had killed his own brother during the civil war, and now desired Sylla to put him among the proscribed, as a person still alive: which he made no difficulty of doing. Catiline in return, went and killed one Marcus Marius, who was of the opposite faction, brought his head to Sylla, as he sat upon his tribunal in the forum, and then washed his hands in the luster water,* at the door of Apollo's temple, which was just by. The'se massacres were not the only thing thfrt afflictfd the Romans. He declared himself dicta- tor, reviving that office in his own favor, though there had been no instance of it for a hundred and twenty years. He got a decree of am nest y for all he had done: and, as to the future, it in- vested him with the power of life and death, of confiscating, of colonizing, of building or de- molishing cities, of giving or taking away king- doms at his pleasure. He exercised his power in such an insolent and despotic manner with regard to confiscated goods, that his applications of them from the tribunal were more intolerable than the confiscations themselves. He gave to handsome prostitutes, to harpers, to buffoons, and to the most wicked of his enfranchised slaves, the revenues of whole cities and provinces, and compelled wo- men of condition to marry some of those ruffians. He was desirous of an alliance with Pornpey the Great, and made him divorce the wne he had, in order to his marrying .^Emilia, the daughter of Scaurus by his own wife Metella, though he had to force her from Manius Glabrio, by whom she was pregnant. The young lady, however, died in childbed in the house of Pornpey her second husband. Lucretius Ofella who had besieged Marius in Pra3neste, now aspired to the consulship, and pre- pared to sue for it. Sylla forbade him to proceed; and when he saw that in confidence of his inter- est with the people, he appeared notwithstanding in public as a candidate, he sent one of the cen- turions who attended him, to dispatch that brave man, while he himself sat on his tribunal in the temple of Castor and Pollux, and looked down upon the murder. The people seized the centu- rion, and brought him with loud complaints be- fore Sylla. He commanded silence, and told them the thing was done by his order; the cen- turion, therefore, was to be dismissed immediately. About this time he led up his triumph, which was magnificent for the display of wealth, and of the royal spoils which were a new spectacle: but that which crowned all, was the procession of the exiles. Some of the most illustrious and most powerful of the citizens followed the chariot, and called Sylla their savior and father, because by his means it was that they returned to their coun- try, and were restored to their wives and children. When the triumph was over, he gave an account of his great actions in a set speech to the people, and was no less particular in relating the instan- ces of his good fortune, than those of his valor He even concluded with an order that for the fu- ture he should be called Felix (that is, the for- tunate). But in writing to the Grecians, and in his answers to their applications, he took the additional name of Epaphroditus (favorite of Venus). The inscription upon the trophies left among us, is, Lucius CORNELIUS SYLLA EPAPHRO- * Here is another instance of a heathen custom adopted by the Romanists. An exclusion from the use of this holy water, was considered by the Gre<*cs as a sort of excom munication. We find CEdipus prohibiting it to the miirdei ers of Laius. Sophoc. CEdip. Act. ii. sc. i. S Y LL A. 317 0ITUS. And to the twins he had by Metella, he Yet, notwithstanding he had married so extra- gave the names of Fau.stus and Fausta, which in ordinary a woman, he continued his commerce the Roman language signifies auspicious and happy, I with actresses and female musicians, and sat A still stronger proof of his placing more con- i drinking whole days with a parcel of buffooaa fidence in his good fortune than in his achieve- about him. His chief favorites at this time were, meats was, his laying down the dictatorship. | Roscius the comedian, Sorex the mimic, and Afte*r he had put an infinite number of people! Metrobius who used to act a woman's purl; * to death, broke in upon the constitution, and ' changed the form of government, he had the hardiness to leave the people full power to choose consuls again: while he himself, without pretend- ing to any direction of their suffrages, walked about the forum as a private man, and put it in the power of any person to take his life. In the first election he had the mortification to see his enemy Marcus Lepidus, a bold and enterprising man, declared consul, not by his own interest, but by that of Pompey, who on this occasion ex- erted himself with the people. And when he saw Pompey going off happy in his victory, he called him to him, and said "No doubt, young man, your politics are very excellent, since you have preferred Lepidus to Catulus, the worst and most stupid of men to the best. It is high time to awake and be upon your guard, now you have strengthened your adversary against yourself." Sylla spoke this from something like a prophetic spirit; for Lepidus soon acted with the utmost in- Bolence, as Pompey's declared enemy. Sylla gave the people a magnificent entertain- ment, on account of his dedicating the tenth of his substance to Hercules. The provisions were so over-abundant, that a great quantity was thrown every day into the river; and the wine that was drank, was forty years old at least. In the rnidst of this feasting, which lasted many days, Metella sickened and died. As the priests forbade him to approach her, and to have his house defiled with mourning, he sent her a bill of divorce, and ordered her to be carried to another house while the breath was in her body. His superstition made him very punctilious in observ- ing these laws of the priests; but by giving into the utmost profusion he transgressed a law of his own, which limited the expense of funerals. He broke in upon his own sumptuary law, too, with respect to diet, by passing his time in the most extravagant banquets, and having recourse to de- bauches to combat anxiety. A few months after he presented the people with a show of gladiators. And as at that time men and women had no separate places, but sat promiscuously in the theater, a woman of great beauty, and one of the best families, happened to stt near Sylla. She was the daughter of Messala, and sister to the orator Hortensius; her name Valeria; and she lately been divorced from her husband. This woman coming behind Sylla, touched him, and took off a little of the nap of his robe, and then returned to her seat. Sylla looked at her, quite amazed at her familiarity; when she said, "Wonder not, my lord, at what I have done; I had only a mind to share a little in your good fortune." Sylla was far from being displeased; on the contrary it appeared that lie was flattered very agreeably. For he sent to ask her name, and to inquire into her family and character. Then followed an exchange of amo- rous regards and smiles; which ended in a con- tract and marriage. The lady, perhaps, was not to blame. But Sylla, though he got a woman of reputation and great accomplishments, yet came into the match upon wrong principles. Like a youth, he was caught with soft looks and lan- guishing airs, things that are wont to excite the lowest ot the passions. * * * These course* added strength to a distemper, that was but slight at the beginning; and for a long time he knew not that he had an abscess within him. This ab- scess corrupted his flesh, and turned it all into lice; so that, though he had many persons em- ployed both day and night to clean him, the part taken away was nothing to that which remained. His whole attire, his baths, his basons, and his food were filled with that perpetual flux of ver- min and corruption. And though he bathed many times a day, to cleanse and purify himself; it was in vain. The corruption came on so fast, that it was impossible to overcome it. We are told, that among the ancients, Acastus, the son of Pelias, died of this sickness; and of those that come nearer our times, Aclrnan the poet, Pherecydes the divine, Callisthenes the Olynthian who was kept in close prison, and Mucius the lawyer. And if after these we may take notice of a man who did not distinguish himself by anything laudable, but was noted an- other way, it may be mentioned, that the fugi- tive slave Eunus, who kindled up a Servile war in Sicily, and was afterward taken and carried to Rome, died there of this disease. Sylla not only foresaw his death, but has left something relating to it in his writings. He fin- ished the twenty-second book of his Commen- taries only two days before he died: and he tella us that the Chaldeans had predicted, that after a life of glory he would depart in the hight of his prosperity. He farther acquaints us, that his son, who died a little before Metella, appeared to him in a dream, dressed in a mean garment, and desired him to bid adieu to his cares, and go along with him to his mother Metella, with whom he should live at ease, and enjoy the charms of tran- quillity. He did not, however, withdraw his at- tention from public affairs. It was but ten days before his death that he reconciled the contend- ing parties at Puteoli,* and gave them a set of laws for the regulation of their police. And the very day before he died, upon information that the quffistor Granius would not pay what he was indebted to the state, but waited for his death to avoid paying at all, he sent for him into his apart- ment, planted his servants about him, and ordered them to strangle him. The violence with which he spoke, strained him so much, that the impos- thume broke, and. he voided a vast quantity of blood. His strength now failed fast, and, after he had passed the night in great agonies, he ex- pired. He left two young children by Metella; and Valeria, after his death, was delivered of a daughter called Posthumia >.; a name given of course by the Romans to such as are born after the death of their father. Many of Sylla's enemies now combined with Lepidus, to prevent his having the usual honors of burial; but Pompey, though he was somewhat displeased at Sylla, because, of all his friends, he had left him only out of his will, in this case interposed his authority; and prevailed upon some * In the Greek Dicfuearchia, which is another name for Pnteole. 318 PLUTARCH'S LIVES by his interest and entreaties, and on others by menaces, to drop their opposition. Then he con- veyed the body to Rome, and conducted the whole funeral, not only with security, but with honor. Such was the quantity of spices brought in by the women, that, exclusive of those carried in two hundred and ten great baskets, a figure of Sylla at full length, and of a lictor beside, was made entirely of cinnamon and the choicest frankincense. The day happened to be so cloudy and the rain was so much expected, that it was about the ninth hour* before the corpse was car- ried out. However, it was no sooner laid upon the pile, than a brisk wind blew, and raised so strong a flame, that it was consumed immediately. But after the pile was burned down, and the fire began to die out, a great rain fell, which lasted until night. So that his good fortune continued to the last, and assisted at his funeral. His mon- ument stands in the Campus Martins, and they tell us he wrote an epitaph for himself, to this pur- port: " No friend ever did me so much good, or enemy so much harm, but I repaid him wi' l> interest." LYSANDER AND SYLLA COMPARED. WE have now gone through the life of Sylla, and will proceed to the comparison. This, then, Lysander and he have in common, that they were entirely indebted to themselves for their rise. But Lysander has this advantage, that the high offices lie gained were with the consent of the people, while the constitution of his country was in a sound and healthy state; and that he got nothing by force, or by acting against the laws In civil broils the worst of men may rise. So it was then in Rome. The people were so corrupt, and the republic in so sickly a condi- tion, that tyrants sprung up on every side. Nor is it any wonder if Sylla gained the ascendant, at a time when wretches like Glaucias and Satnrni- nus expelled such men as Metellus; when the sons of consuls were murdered in the public as- semblies; when men supported their seditious pur- poses with soldiers purchased with money, and laws were enacted with fire, and sword, and every species of violence.* In such a state of things, I do not blame the man who raised himself to supreme power; all I say is, that when the commonwealth was in so depraved and desperate a condition, power was no evidence of merit. But since the laws and public virtue never flourished more at Sparta, than when Lysander was sent upon the highest and most im- portant commissions, we may conclude, that he was the best among the virtuous, and first among the great. Thus, the one, though he often sur- reiuiered the command, had it as often restored to him by his fellow-citizens, because his virtue, which alone has a claim to the prize of honor, continued still the same.f The other, after he was once appointed general, usurped the com- mand, and kept in arms for ten years, sometimes styling himself Consul, sometimes Proconsul, and sometimes Dictator, but was always in reali- ty a tyrant. It is true, as we have observed above, Lysan- der did attempt a change in the Spartan constitu- tion, but he took a milder and more legal method than Sylla. It was by persuasion,} not by arms, j same time he was daily confiscating the richest he proceeded; nor did he attempt to overturn ev- and best houses in Rome. Still more immense erything at once. He only wanted to correct the were the sums he squandered upon his flatterers establishment as to kings. And, indeed, it seem- ed natural that in a state which had the supreme the dog or horse already bred (for what if the foal should prove a mule!); so the politician would entirely miss his aim, if, instead of inquiring into the qualities of a person for first magistrate, he looked upon nothing but his family. Thus the Spartans deposed some of their kings, because they had not princely talents, but were persons of no worth or consequence. Vice, even with high birth, is dishonorable: and the honor which virtue enjoys is all her own; family has no share in it. They were both guilty of injustice; but Lysau- der/or his friends, and Sylla against his. Most of Ly sander's frauds were committed for his creatures, and it was to advance to high stations and absolute power that he dipped his hands in so much blood: whereas, Sylla envied Pompey the army, and Dolabella the naval command lie had given them; and he attempted to take them away. And when Lucretius Ofella, after the greatest and most faithful services, solicited the consulship, he ordered him to be dispatched before his eyes.-~ Terror and dismay seized all the world, when they saw one of his best friends thus mur- dered. If we consider their behavior with respect to riches and pleasure, we shall find the one the prince, and the other the tyrant. When the power and authority of Lysander were so exten- sive, he was not guilty of one act of intemper- ance or youthful dissipation. He, if any man, avoided the sting of that proverb, Lions within doors, and foxes without. So sober, so regular, so worthy of a Spartan, was his manner of living.-*- Sylla, on the other hand, neither let poverty set bounds to his passions in his youth; nor years in his age. But, as Sallust says, while he was giving his countrymen laws for the regulation of mar- riages, and for promoting sobriety, he indulged himself in adultery and every species of lust. By his debaucheries he lie treasures, that he was so drained the pub- obliged to let many cities, in alliance and friendship with Rome, pur- chase independence and the privilege of being governed only by their own laws; though at the direction of Greece, on account of its virtue, rather than any other superiority, merit should gain the scepter. For as the hunter and the jockey do not so much consider the breed, as g. reate . st * We need no other instances than this to show that a ^publan government will never do in corrupt times * Three in the afternoon. he was a man of the greatest duplicity of character, of the t profaneness: for he corrupted the pries titnted th honor of the gods, to gratify hi and ambition. tit was by hypocrisy, by profane and impious expedients sts and pros personal envy LYSANDER AND SYLLA COMPARED. 319 Indeed, what bounds or moderation could be ex- pected in his private gifts, when his heart was dilated with wine, if we do but attend to one in- stance of his behavior in public? One day, as he was selling a considerable estate, which he want- ed a friend to have at an under-price, another offered more, and the crier proclaiming the ad- vance, he turned with indignation to the people, and said, " What outrage and tyranny is this, rny friends, that I am not allowed to dispose of my own spoils as I please?" Far from such rapaciousness, Lysander, to the spoils he sent his countrymen, added his own share. Not that I praise him in that; for perhaps he hurt Sparta more essentially by the money he brought into it, than Sylla did Rome by that which he took from it. I only mention it as a proof of the little regard he had for riches. It was something very particular, however, that Sylla, while he abandoned himself to all the pro- fusion of luxury and expense, should bring the Romans to sobriety; whereas Lysander subjected the Spartans to those passions which he restrained in himself. The former acted worse than his own laws directed, and the other brought his people to act worse than himself: for he filled Sparta with the love of that which he well knew how to despise. Such they were in their political capacity. As to military achievements and acts of gener- alship, the number of victories, aru n dangers he had to combat, Sylla is beyond comparison. Ly- eander, indeed, gained two naval victories; to which we may add his taking of Athens; for, though that affair was not difficult in the execu- tion, it was glorious in its consequences. As to his miscarriage in Bceotia, and at Haliartus, ill-for- tune, perhaps, had some concern in it, but it was principally owing to indiscretion; since he would not wait for the great reinforcement which the king was bringing from Platsea, and which was upon the point of joining him, but with an ill- timed resentment and ambition, marched up to the walls. Hence it was, that he was slain by some troops of no consideration, who sallied out to the attack. He fell, not as Cleombrotus did at Leuctra, who was slain as he was making head against an impetuous enemy; not like Cyrus, or Epaminondas, who received a mortal wound as he was rallying his men and ensuring to them the victory. These great men died the death of gen- erals and kings. But Lysander threw away his life ingloriously like a common soldier or desper- ate adventurer. By his death he showed how right the ancient Spartans were in not choosing to fight against stone walls, where the bravest man in the world may be killed; I will not say by an insignificant man, but by a child or woman. So Achilles is said to have been slain by Paris at the gates of Troy. On the other hand, so many pitched battles were won by Sylla, and so many myriads of enemies killed, that it is not easy to number them. He took Rome itself twice,* and ' Whatever military merit he might display in other hat- ties, he had certainly none in the taking of Rome. For it was not generalship., but necessity, that brought it into his hands. the Piraeus at Athens, not by famine, as Lysande* had done, out by assault, after he had defeated Archelaus, in several great battles at land, and forced him to take refuge in his fleet. It is a material point, too, to consider what generals they had to oppose. I can look upon it as no more than the play of children, to have beaten Antiochus, who was no better than Alci- biades's pilot, and to have outwitted Philocles the Athenian demagogue, A man whose tongue was sharpen'd not his sword. Mithridates would not have compared them with his groom, norMarius with one of hislictors. But Sylla had to contend with princes, consuls, gen- erals, and tribunes of the highest influence and abilities: and, to name but a few of them, who among the Romans was more formidable than Ma rius; among the kings, more powerful than Mith- ridates; or among the people of Italy, more war- like than Lamponius and Telesinus? yet Sylla banished the first, subdued the second, and killed the other two. What is of more consequence, in my opin- ion, than anything yet mentioned, is, that Lysan- der was supported in all his enterprises by his friends at home, and owed all his success to their assistance; whereas Sylla, a banished man, over- powered by a faction, at a time when his enemies were expelling his wife, destroying his house, and putting his friends to death, fought the battles of his country on the plains of Bceotia against armies that could not be numbered, and was victorious in her cause. This was not all; Mithridates offer- ed to second him with all his power and join him with all his forces against his enemies at Rome, yet he relaxed not the least of his demands, nor showed him the least countenance. He would not so much as return his salutation, or give hirn his hand, until he promised in person to relin- quish Asia, and to deliver up his ships, and to restore Bithynia and Cappadocia to their respec- tive kings. There was nothing in the whole con- duct of Sylla more glorious, or that showed greater magnanimity. He preferred the public good to his own: like a dog of generous breed, he kept his hold until his adversary had given out, and after that he turned to revenge his own cause. The different methods they observed with res- pect to the Athenians, contribute not a little to mark their characters. Sylla, though they bore arms against him for Mithridates, after he had taken their city, indulged them with their liberty and the privilege of their own laws: Lysander showed no sort of compassion for a people of late so glorious and powerful, but abolished the popular government, and set over them the most cruel and unjust of tyrants. Perhaps, we shall not be wide of the truth, if we conclude that in the life of Sylla there are more great actions, and in Lysander's fewer faults; if we assign to the Grecian the prize of tempe- rance and prudence, and to the Roman that of valor and capacity for war. 520 PLUTARCH'S LIVES C IM ON. PERIPOLTAS the diviner,* who conducted king Ophelias and his subjects from Thessaly into Boe- otia, left a family that flourished for many years. The greatest part of that family dwelt in Chsero- nea, where they first established themselves, after the expulsion of the barbarians. But as they j were of a gallant and martial turn, and never spared themselves in time of action, they fell in the wars with the Medes and the Gauls. There remained only a young orphan ntimed Damon, and surnamed Peripoltas. Damon in beauty of person and dignity of mind far exceeded all of his age, but he was of a harsh and morose temper, unpolished by education. He was now in the dawn of youth, when a Ro- man officer, who wintered with his company in Chceronea, conceived a criminal passion for him; and, as he found solicitations and presents of no avail, he was preparing to use force. It seems, he despised our city, whose affairs were then in a bad situation, and whose smallness and poverty rendered it an object of no importance. As Da- mon dreaded some violence, and withal was highly provoked at the past attempts, he formed a design against the officer's life, and drew some of his comrades into the scheme. The number was but small, that the matter might be more private; in fact, they were no more than sixteen. One night they daubed their faces over with soot, after they had drank themselves up to a pitch of elevation, and next morning fell upon the Roman as he was sacrificing in the market-place. The moment they had killed him, and a number of those that were about him, they fled out of the city. All was now in confusion. The senate of Chaero- nea met, and condemned the assassins to death, in order to excuse themselves to the Romans. But as the magistrates supped together according to custom, Damon and his accomplices returned in the evening, broke into the town hall, killed every man of them, and then made off again. It happened that Lucius Lucullus, who was going upon some expedition, marched that way. He stopped to make an inquiry into the affair, which was quite recent, and found that the city was so far from being accessory to the death of the Roman officer, that it was a considerable suf- ferer itself. He therefore withdrew the garrison, and took the soldiers with him. Damon, for his part, committed depredations in the adjacent country, and greatly harassed the city. The Cha3roneans endeavored to decoy him by frequent messages and decrees in his favor: and when they had got him among them again, they appointed him master of the wrestling ring; jut soon took opportunity to dispatch him as he A T as anointing himself in the bagnio. Our fathers lell us, that for a long time certain specters ap- peared on that spot, and sad groans were heard; for which reason the doors of the bagnio were walled up. And to this very day those who live in that neighborhood imagine that they see strange sights, and are alarmed with doleful voices. There are some remains, however, of Damon's family, * Plntarch here introduces an obscure and dirty story, for Ihe sake of talking of the place of his nativity. who live mostly in the town of Stiris in Phocis These are called, according to the ^Eolic dialect Asholomenoi, that is, Sooty-faced, on account of their ancestor having smeared his face with soot, when he went about the assassination. The people of Orchomenus, who were neigh- bors to the Chseroneans, having some prejudice against them, hired a Roman informer to accuse the city of the murder of those who fell by tli6 hands of Damon, and his associates, and to prose- cute it as if it had been an individual. The cause came before the governor of Macedonia, for the Romans had not yet sent praetors into Greece-; and the persons employed to plead for the city appealed to the testimony of Lucullus. Upon this the governor wrote to Lucullus, who gave a true account of the affair, and by that means de- livered Chseronea from utter ruin. Our forefathers, in gratitude for their preserva- tion, erected a marble statue to Lucullus in the market-place, close by that of Bacchus. And though many ages are since elapsed, we are of opinion that the obligation extends even to us. We are persuaded, too, that a representation of the body is not comparable to that of the mind and the manners, and therefore in this work of lives compared, shall insert his. We shall, however, always adhere to the truth; and Lucullus will think himself sufficiently repaid by our perpetu- ating the memory of his actions. He cannot want, in return for his true testimony, a false and fictitious account of himself. When a painter has to draw a fine and elegant form, which hap- pens to have some little blemish, we do not want him entirely to pass over that blemish, nor yet to mark it with exactness. The one would spoil the beauty of the picture, and the other destroy th likeness. So in our present work, since it is very difficult, or rather impossible, to find any life what- ever without its spots and errors, we must set the good qualities in full light, with all the likeness of truth. But we consider the faults and stains that proceed either from some sudden passion, or from political necessity, rather as defects of virtue than signs of a bad heart; and for that reason we shall cast them a little into the shade, in reverence to human nature, which produces no specimen of virtue absolutely pure and perfect. When we looked out for one to put in com- parison with Cimon, Lucullus seemed the pro- perest person. They were both of a warlike turn, and both distinguished themselves against the barbarians. They were mild in their admin- istration; they reconciled the contending factions in their country. They both gained great victo- ries, and erected glorious trophies. JNo Grecian carried his arms to more distant countries than Cimon, or Roman than Lucullus. Hercules and Bacchus only exceeded them; unless we add th expeditions of Perseus against the ^Ethiopians, Medes, and Armenians, and that of Jason against Colchis. But the scenes of these last actions are laid in such very ancient times, that we have some doubt whether the truth could reach us. This also they have in common, that they left their wars unfinished; they both pulled their enemies down, but neither of them gave them their death's CIMON 321 low The principal mark, however, of likeness in their characters, is their affability and gentle- ness of deportment in doing the honors of their houses, and the magnificence and splendor with which they furnished their tables. Perhaps, there are some other resemblances which we pass over, that may easily be collected from their history itself. Cimon was the son of Mithridates and Hegesi- pyla. That lady was a Thracian, and daughter to king Olorus, as it stands recorded in the poems of Archelaus and Melanthius, written in honor of Cimon. So that Thucydides the historian was his relation, for his father was called Olorus; a name that had been long hi the family, and he had gold mines in Thrace. Thucydides is said, too. to have been killed in Scapte Hyle,* a place in that country. His remains, however, were brought into Attica, and his monument is shown among those of Cimon 's family, near the tomb of Elpi- nice, sister of Cimon. But Thucydides was of the ward of Alirnus, and Miltiades of that of Lacias. Miltiades was condemned to pay a fine of fifty talents, for which he was thrown into prison by the government, and there he died. He left his son Cimon very young, and his daughter El- pinice was not yet marriageable. Cimon, at first, was a person of no reputation, but censured as a disorderly and riotous young man. He was even compared to his grandfather Cimon, who, for his stupidity, was called Coalemos (that is, Idiot}. Stesimbrotus the Thasian, who was his contemporary, says, he had no knowledge of music, or any other accomplishment which was in vogue among the Greeks, and that he had not the least spark of the Attic wit or eloquence; but that there was a generosity and sincerity in his behavior, which showed the composition of his soul to be rather of the Peloponnesian. kind. Like the Hercules of Euripides, he was Rough and unbred, but great on great occasions. And therefore we may well add that article to the account Stesimbrotus has given us of him. In his youth he was accused of a criminal com- merce with his sister Elpiiuce.f There are other instances, indeed, mentioned of Elpinice's irregu- lar conduct, particularly with respect to Polygno- tus the painter. Hence it was, we are told, that when he painted the Trojan women, in the por- tico then called Plesianaction,^. but now Poc- kile, he drew Elpinice's face in the character of Laodice. Poiygnotus, however, was not a painter by profession, nor did he receive wages for his work in the portico, but painted without reward, to recommend himself to his countrymen. So the historians write, as well as the poet Melan- thius in these verses The temples of the gods, The fanes of heroes, and Cecropian halls His liberal hand adorn'd. It is true, there are some who assert that El- pinice did not live in a private commerce wiih Cimon, but that she was publicly married to him, her poverty preventing her from getting a husband suitable to her birth. Afterward Callias, a rich Athenian, falling in love with her, made a propo- sal to pay the government her father's fine, if she would give him her hand, which condition she * Scapte Hylc signifies a wood full of trenches. Stephanas (de urb.) calls it Scaptesule. t Some say Elpinice was only half sister to Cimon, and that as such he married her; the laws of Athens not for- bidding him to marry one that was sister only by the father's side. Cornelius Nepos expressly affirms it. $ Diogenes, uidas. and others, call it 1'eisianaction. agreed to, and with her brother's consent became his wife. Still if must be acknowledged that C'- mon had his attachments to the sex. Witness hit mistresses Asteria of Salarnis, and one Menstra, on whose account the poet Melanthius jests upon him in his elegies. And though he was legally married to Isodice, the daughter of Euryptolemus, the son of Megacles, yet he was too uxorious while she lived, and at her death he was incon- solable, if we may judge from the elegies that were addressed to him by way of comfort and condolence. PanaBtius, 4 he philosopher, thinks Archelaus the physician was author of those ele- gies, and from the times in which he flourished, the conjecture seems not improbable. The rest of Cimon's conduct was great and ad- mirable. In courage he was not interior to Mil- tiades, nor in prudence to Themistocles, and he was confessedly an honcster man than either of them. He could not be said to come short of them in abilities for war; and even while he was young and without military experience, it is surprising how much he exceeded them in political virtue. When Themistocles, upon tho invasion of the Medes, advised the people to quit their city and territory, and retire to the straits of Salamis, to try their fortunes in a naval combat, the generality were astonished at the rashness of the enterprise. But Cimon, with a gay air, led the way with his friends through the Ceramicus to the citadel, car- rying a bridle in his hand to dedicate to the god- dess. This was to show that Athens had no need of cavalry, but of marine forces, on the present occasion. After he had consecrated the bridle, and taken down a shield from the wall, he paid his devotions to th 1 ^ goddess, and then went down to the sea; by which means he inspired numbem with courage to embark. Beside, as the poet Ion informs us, he was not unhandsome in his person, but tall and majestic, and had an abundance of hair which curled upon his shoulders. He distin- guished himself in so extraordinary a manner in the battle, that he gained not only the praise, but the hearts of his countrymen; insomuch that many joined his train, and exhorted him to think of designs and actions worthy of those at Mara- thon. When he applied for a share in the administra- tion, the people received him with pleasure. By this time they were weary of Themistocles, ana as they knew Cimon's engaging and humane be- havior to their whole body, consequent upon his natural mildness and candor, they promoted him to the highest honors and offices in the state. Ar- istides, the son of Lysimachus, contributed not a little to his advancement. He saw the goodness of his disposition, and set him up as a rival against the keenness and daring spirit of Themis- tocles. When the Medes were driven out of Greece, Cimon was elected admiral. The Athenians haci not now the chief command at sea, but acted un- der the orders of Pausanias the Lacedaemonian. The first thing Cimon did, was to equip his coun- trymen in a more commodious manner, and lo make them much better seamen than the rest. And as Pausanias began to treat with the barbari- ans, and write letters to the king, about betraying the fleet to them, in consequence of which h treated the allies in a rough and haughty style, and foolishly gave in to many unnecessary and oppressive acts of authority; Cimon, on the other hand, listened to the complaints of the injured with so much gentleness and humanity, that he insensibly gained the command of Greece, not by arms, but by his kind and obliging manners. Foi 322 PL U T ARC H'S LIVES. the greatest pUt of the allies, no longer able to bear the severity and pride of Pausauias, put themselves under the direction of Cirnon and Aristides. At the same time they wrote to the ephori, to desire them to recall Pausanias, by whom Sparta was so dishonored, and ail Greece so much discomposed. It is related, that when Pausanias was at Byzan- tium, he cast his eyes upon a young virgin named Cleonice, of a noble family there, and in- sisted upon having her for a mistress. The pa- rents, intimidated by his power, were under the hard necessity of giving up their daughter. The young woman begged that the light might be taken out of his apartment, that she might go to his bed in secrecy and silence. When she entered he was asleep, and she unfortunately stumbled upon the candlestick, and threw it down. The noise waked him suddenly, and he, in his confusion, thinking it was an enemy coming to assassinate him, unsheathed a dagger that lay by him. and plunged it into the virgin's heart. After this he could never rest. Her image appeared to him every night, and with a menacing tone repeated this heroic verse Go to the fate which pride and lust prepare! The allies highly incensed at this infamous ac- tion, joined Cimou to besiege him in Byzantium. But he found means to escape thence; and as he was still haunted by the specter, he is said to have applied to a temple at Heraclea,* where the tnanes of the dead were consulted. There he in- voked the spirit of Cleonice, f and entreated her pardon. She appeared, and told him, " He would soon be delivered from ai his troubles, after his return to Sparta;" in which it seems his death was enigmatically foretold.J These particulars we have from many historians. All the confederates had now put themselves under the conduct of Cimon, and he sailed with them to Thrace, upon intelligence that some of the most honorable of the Persians, and of the king's relations, had seized the city of Eion upon the river Strymon, and greatly harassed the Greeks in that neighborhood. Cimon engaged and defeated the Persian forces, and then shut them up in the town. After this, he dislodged the Thracians above the Strymon, who had used to supply the town with provisions, and kept so strict a guard over the country, that no convoys Could escape him. By this means, the place was reduced to such extremity, that Butes, the king's general, in absolute despair, set fire to it, and so perished there, with his friends and all his sub- stance. In consequence of this, Cimon became master of the town, but there was no advantage to be reaped from it worth mentioning, because the barbarians had destroyed all by fire. The coun- try about it, however, was very beautiful and fer- tile, and that he settled with the Athenians. For this reason the people of Athens permitted him to erect there tiuee marble Henna, which had the following inscriptions: Where Strymon, with his silver waves, The lofty towers of Eion laves, * Heraclea was a place near Olympia. Pausanias ap- lied to the necromancers there called Psychagogi, whose ffice it was to call up departed spirits. t Thus we find that it was a custom in the Pagan as well ** in the Hebrew theology, to conjure up the spirits of the dead, and that the witch of Endor was not the only witch in the world. t The Lacisdmrnonians having resolved to seize him, he fled for refuge to the temple of Minerva, called Chalcioucos. There they shut him up and starved him. The hapless Mede, with famine presi'd, The force of Grecian arms confess'd. Let him who, horn in distant days, Behold* these monuments of praise- These forms that valor's glory save And see how Athens crowns the brave, For honor feel the patriot sigh, And for his country learn to die. Afar to Phrygia's fated lands, When Mnestheus leads his Attic bands, Behold! he hears in Homer still The palm of military skill, In every age, on every coast, 'Tis thus the sons of Athens boast! Though Cimon 's name does not appear in any of these inscriptions, yet his cotemporaries consider- them as the highest pitch of honor. For neither Themistocles nor Miltiades were favored with anything of that kind. Nay, when the latter wan asked only for a crown of olive, Sochares of the ward of Decelea stood up in the midst of the as- sembly, and spoke against it, in terms that were not candid, indeed, but agreeable to the people. He said, " Miltiades, when you shall fight the bar- barians alone, and conquer alone, then ask to have honors paid you alone." What was it then that induced them to give the preference so greatly to this action of Cimon? Was it not that under the other generals, they fought for their lives and existence as a people, but under him they were able to distress their enemies, by carry- ing war into the countries where they had estab- lished themselves, and by colonizing Eion and Amphipolis? They planted a colony, too, in the isle of Scyros,* which was reduced by Cimon on the occasion I am going to mention. The Dolo- pes, who then held it, paid no attention to agri- culture. They had so long been addicted to pira- cy, that at last they spared not even the mer- chants and strangers who came into their ports, but in that of Clesium plundered some Thes- salians who carne to traffic with them, and put them in prison. These prisoners, however, found means to escape, and went and lodged an impeach- ment against the place before the A mphictyones, who commanded the whole island to make resti- tution. Those who had no concern in the rob- bery were unwilling to pay anything, and, instead of that, called upon the persons who committed it, and had the goods in their hands, to make sat- isfaction. But, these pirates, apprehensive of the consequence, sent to invite Cirnon to come with the ships and take the town, which they promis- ed to deliver up to him. In pursuance of this, Cimon took the island, expelled the Dolopes, and cleared the ^Egian sea of corsairs. This done, he recollected that their ancient hero Theseus, the son of ^Egeus, had retired from Athens to Scyros, and was there treacherously killed by king Lycomedes, who entertained some suspicion of him. And as there was an oracle which had enjoined the Athenians to bring back his remainsjt and to honor him as a demigod, Cimon set himself to search for his tomb. This was no easy undertaking, for the people of Scy- ros had all along refused to declare where he lay, or to suffer any search for his bones. At last, with much pains and inquiry, he discovered the repository, and put his remains, set off with all imaginable magnificence, on board his own galley, and carried them to the ancient seat of that This happened about the beginning of the seventy, seventh Olympiad. t This oracle was delivered to them four year* before; < the first year f the seventy-sixth Olympiad". CIMON. 323 hero, almost four hundred years after he had left it.* Nothing could give the people more pleasure than this event. To commemorate it, they insti- tuted games, in which the tragic poets were to try their skill; and the dispute was very remarka- ble. Sophocles, then a young man, brought his first piece upon the theater; and Aphepsion, the archou, perceiving that the audience were not un- prejudiced, did not appoint the judges by lot in the usual manner. The method he took was this: when Cimon and his officers had entered the theater, and made the due libations to the god who presided over the games, the archon would not suffer them to retire, but obliged them to sit down and select (.en judges upon oath, one out of each tribe. The dignity of the judges caused an extraordinary emulation among the actors. So- phocles gained the prize; at which jEschylus was go much grieved and disconcerted, that he could not bear to stay much longer in Athens, but in auger retired to Sicily, where he died, and was buried near Gela. Ion tells us, that when he was very young, and lately come from Chios to Athens, he supped at Laometion's with Cimon. After supper, when the libations were over, Cimon was desired to Bing, and he did it so agreeably, that the com- pany preferred him in point of politeness, to The- mistocles. For he, on a like occasion, said, " He had not learned to sing or play upon the harp; but lie knew how to raise a small city to wealth nd greatness." The conversation afterward turned upon the actions of Cimon, and each of the guests dwelt upon such as appeared to him the most considerable: he, for his part, mentioned only this, which he looked upon as the most art- ful expedient he had made use of. A great number of barbarians were made prisoners in irestos and at Byzantium; and the allies desired Cimon to make a division of the booty. Cimon placed the prisoners, quite naked on one side, and a!! their ornaments on the other. The allies coin- phiined, the shares were not equal; whereupon he bade them take which part they pleased, assur- ing them that the Athenians would be satisfied with what they left. Heropkytus, the Sarnian, advised them to make choice of the Persian spoils, and of course the Persian captives fell to the share of the Athenians. For the present, Cimon was ridiculed in private for the division he had made; because the allies had chains of gold, rich collars and bracelets, and robes of scarlet and purple to show, whilo the Athenians had nothing but a parcel of naked slaves, and those very unfit for labor. But a little after, the friends and rela- tions of the prisoners came down from Phrygia and Lydut, and gave large sums for their ransom. 80 that Cimon with the money purchased four months' provisions for his ships, and sent a quantity of gold beside to the Athenian trea- sury. Cimon by this time had acquired a great for- tune; and what he had gained gloriously in the war from the enemy, he laid out with as much reputation upon his Yellow-citizens. He ordered the fences of his fields and gardens to be thrown down, that strangers, as well as his own country- nen, might freely partake of his fruit. He had supper provided at his house every day, in which the dishes were plain, but sufficient for a multitude of guests. Every poor citizen repaired to it at pleasure, and had his diet without care or * Plutarch coul'l not make n mistake of four hundred ye; rs. We aits persuaded, therefore, lli ut lie wrote et^'/U trouble; by which means he was enabled to give proper attention to public affairs. Aristotle, in- deed, says, this supper was not provided for all the citizens in general, but only for those of his owu tribe, which was that of Lucia.* When he. walked out, he used to have a retinue of young men well clothed, and if he happened to meet an aged citizen in a mean dress, he ordered some one of them to change clothes with him This was great and noble. But beside this, the same attendants carried with them a quantity of money, and when they met in the market-place with any necessitous person of tolerable appear- ance, they took care to slip some pieces into his hand as privately as possible. Cratinus, the comic writer, seems to have referred to these circum- stances in one of his pieces entitled Archilochi. Even I, Metrobius, though a scrivener, hoped To pass a cheerful and a sleek old age, And live to my last hour at Cimon'i table; Cimon! the best and noblest of the Greeks! Whose wide spread bounty vied with that of Heaven! But, ah! he's gone before me! Gorgias the Leontine gave him this character, " He got riches to use them, and used them so as to be honored on their account." And Critias, one of the thirty tyrants, in his Elegies thus ex- presses the utmost extent of his wishes: The wealth of Scopas't heirs, the soul of Cimon, And the famed trophies of Agesilaus. Lichas, the Lacedremonian, we know, gained a great name among the Greeks, by nothing but entertaining strangers who came to see the public exercises of the Spartan youth. But the magnifi- cence of Cimon exceeded even the ancient hospi- tality and bounty of the Athenians. They indeed taught the Greeks to sow bread-corn, to avail themselves of the use of wells, and of the benefit of fire: in these things they justly glory. But Cirnon's house was a kind of common hall for all the people; the first fruits of his lands were theirs; whatever the seasons produced of excellent and agreeable, they freely gathered; nor were strangers in the least debarred from them : so that he in some measure revived the community of goods, which prevailed in the reign of Saturn, and which the poets tell so much of. Those who malevo- lently ascribed this liberality of his to a desire of flattering or courting the people, were refuted by the rest of his conduct, in which he favored the nobility, and inclined to the constitution and cus- tom of Lacedaimon. When Themistocles wanted to raise the power and privileges of the commons too high, he joined Aristides to oppose him. In like manner he opposed Ephialtes, who, to ingra- tiate himself with the people, attempted to abolish the court of Areopagus. Pie saw all persons con- cerned in the administration, except Aristides and Ephialtes, pillaging the public, yet he kept his own hands clean, and in all his speeches and actions continued to the last perfectly disinte- rested. One instance of this they give us in his behavior to Rhcesaces, a barbarian who had re- volted from the king of Persia, and was come to Athens with great treasures. This man finding himself harassed by informers there, applied to Cimon for his protection; and, to gain his favor placed two cups, the one full of gold, and the other of silver darics in his antechamber. Cimon, cast- ing his eye upon them, smiled, and asked him, " Whether he should choose to have him his mer- * Cimon's ward being afterward called Oeneis, it must be reconriled \vifh this phoe from Ptephanns, who tells us, tk/: Laciadutirerc a projjlc f the ward Oincif,-. t :-iM>pus, a rich The^alian, is mentioned in the lit* of Cato. 324 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. cenarv or his friend ?"* " My friend, undoubtedly," said the barbarian. "Go then," said Cimon, "and take these things oack with you; for if I be your friend, your money will be mine whenever I have occasion for it" About this time, the allies, though they paid their contributions, began to scruple the furnish- ing of ships and men. They wanted to bid adieu to the troubles of war, and to till the ground in quiat and tranquillity, particularly as the barbari- ans kept at home, and gave them no disturbance. The other Athenian generals took every method to compel them to make good their quota, and by prosecutions and fines rendered the Athenian government oppressive and invidious. But Cimon took a different course when he had the com- mand. He used no compulsion to any Grecian; he took money and ships unmanned of such as did not choose to serve in person; and thus suf- fered them to be led by the charms of ease to domestic employment, to husbandry and manufac- tures: so that, of a warlike people, they became, through an inglorious attachment to luxury and pleasure, quite unfit for anything in the military department. On the other hand, he made all the Athenians in their turns serve on board his ships, and kept them in continual exercise. By these means he extended the Athenian dominion over the allies, who were all the while paying him for it. The Athenians were always upon one expe- dition or other; had their weapons forever in their hands, and were trained up to every fatigue of service; hence it was that the allies learned to fear and flatter them, and instead of being their fellow- soliiiers as formerly, insensibly became their tri- butaries and subjects. Add to this, that no man humbled the pride and arrogance of the great king more than Cimon. Not satisfied with driving him out of Greece, he pursued his footsteps, and without suffering him to take breath, ravaged and laid waste some part of his dominions, and drew over others to the Grecian league; insomuch that in all Asia, from Ionia to Pamphylia, there was not a Persian stan- dard to be seen. As soon as he was informed that the king's fleets and armies lay upon the Pamphy- lian coast, he wanted to intimidate them in such a manner that they should never more venture beyond the Cheiidonian isles. For this purpose he set sail from Cnidus and Triopium with a fleet of two hundred galleys, which Themistocles had, in their first construction, made light and fit to turn with the utmost agility. Ciinoti widened them, aiid joined a platform to the deck of each, that there might in time of action be room for a greater number of combatants. When he arrived at Pliaselia, which was inhabited by Greeks, but would neither receive his fleet, nor revolt from the king, he ravaged their territories, and advanced to assault their walls. Hereupon, the Chians who were among his forces, having of old had a friend- ship for the people of Phaselis, on one side endea- vored to pacify Cimon, and on the other addressed themselves to the townsmen, by letters fastened to arrows, which they shot over the walls. At length they reconciled the two parties; the condi- tions were, that the Phaselites should pay down ten talents, and should follow Cimou's standard against the barbarians. Ephorus says, Tithraustes commanded the king's fleet, and Pherendates his lund forces; but Ciiilisthenes will have it, that Arionuuides the son 'jf Gobryas was at the head of the Persians. He tells us farther, that he lay at anchor in the river Eurymedon, and did not yet choose to come to an engagement with the Greeks, because he expected a reinforcement of eighty Phoenician ships frwm Cyprus. Ou the other hand, Cimon wanted to prevent that junction, and therefore sailed with a resolution to compel the Persians to fight, if they declined it. To avoid it, they pushed up tlit river. But when Cimon came up, they attempted to make head against him with six hundred ships, according to Phanodemus, or, as Ephorus writes with three hundred and fifty. They performed, however, nothing worthy of such a fleet, but pre- sently made for land. The foremost got on shore, and escaped the army which was drawn up hard by. The Greeks laid hold on the rest, and hand- led them very roughly, as well as their ships. A certain proof that the Persian fleet was very nu- merous, is, that though many in all probability got away, and many others were destroyed, yet the Athenians took no less than two hundred vessels. The barbarian land forces advanced close to the sea: but it appeared to Cimon an arduous under- taking to make good his landing by dint of sword, and with his troops, who were fatigued with the late action, to engage those that were quite fresh and many times their number. Notwithstanding this, he saw the courage and spirits of his men elevated with their late victory, and that they were very desirous to be led against the enemy. He therefore disembarked his heavy-armed infantry, yet warm from the action. They rushed forward with loud shouts, and the Persians stood and re- ceived them with a good countenance. A sharp conflict ensued, in which the bravest and most dis- tinguished among the Athenians were slain. At last with much difficulty the barbarians were put to the rout: many were killed, and many others were taken, together with their pavilions, full of all manner of rich spoil. Thus Cirnon, like an excellent champion, won two prizes in one day, and by these two actions outdid the victory of Salamis at sea, and of Pla- tsea at land. He added, however, a new trophy to his victories. Upon intelligence that tiie eighty Phoenician galleys, which were not in the battle, were arrived at Hydrus,* he steered that way as fast as possible. They had not received any cer- tain account of the forces to whose assistance they were going; and as this suspense much intimi- dated them, they were easily defeated, with the loss of all their ships and most of their men. These events so humbled the king of Persia, that he came into that famous peace, which limited him to the distance of a day's journey ,f on horse- back, from the Grecian sea; and by which he en- gaged that none of his galleys or other ships of war should ever come within the Cyane.in and Cheli- douiau isles. Callisthenes, indeed, denies that the king agreed to these conditions; but ho allows that his subsequent behavior was equivalent to such an agreement. For his fears, consequent upon the defeat, made him retire so far from Greece, that Pericles with fifty ships, and Ephial- tes with no more than thirty, sailed beyond the Cheiidonian rocks without meeting any fleet of the barbarians. However, in the collection of Athenian decrees made by Craterus, there is a copy of the articles of this peace, which are in As no such place ns Hydrus is t,o be found, Lubinnt thinks we should read Sydra, which was a maritime town of Cilicia. Dacier proposes to read Hyt one of the Cyclades. Hut perhaps Hydru tion of Cyprus; for Polysenus (1. i.) tells thither immediately after his two-fold adds, that he went disguised in a Per must be with a view to take in the Phc&r.i t Four hundred furlong*. russa, which was only a corrup- us, Cimon sailed lory. And hi ian dress, which i:iu galleys. C1MON. 325 tihstance the same as we have related them. We are told also, that the Athenians built an altar to Peace on this occasion, and that they paid parti- cular honors to Callias who negotiated the treaty. So much was raised from the sale of the spoils, that beside what was reserved for other occasions, the people had money enough to build the wall on the south side of the citadel. Nay, such was the treasure this expedition afforded, that by it were laid the foundation of the long walls called Legs; they were not finished indeed until some time after. And as the place where they were to be erected was marshy and full of water, Cimou at his own expense had the bottom secured by ram- ming down large stones and binding them with gravel. He too, first adorned the city with those elegant and noble places for exercise and disputa- tion; which a little after came to be so much ad- mired. He planted the forum with plane trees: and whereas the academy before was a dry and unsightly plat, he brought water to it, and shel- tered it with groves, so that it abounded with clean alleys and shady walks. By this time the Persians refused to evacuate the Cbersonesus; and, instead of that, called down the Thracians to their assistance. Cimon set out against them from Athens with a very few galleys, and as they looked upon him with contempt on that account, he attacked them, and with four ships only, took thirteen of theirs. Thus he ex- pelled the Persians, and beat the Thracians too; by which success he reduced the whole Chersone- sus to the obedience of Athens. After this, he defeated at sea the Thasians, who had revolted from the Athenians, took three-and-thirty of their ships, and stormed their town. The gold mines which were in the neighboring continent he se- cured to his countrymen, together with the whole Thasian territories. From thence there was an easy opening to in- vade Macedonia, and possibly to conquer great part of it; and as he neglected the opportunity, it was thought to be owing to the presents which king Alexander made him. His enemies, there fore, impeached him for it, and brought him to his trial. In his defense, he thus addressed his judges " I have no connection with rich lonians or Thessalians, whom other generals have applied to, iu hopes of receiving compliments and treasures from them. My attachment is to the Macedoni- ans,* whose frugality and sobriety I honor and imitate; things preferable with me to all the wealth in the world. I love indeed to enrich my country at the expense of its enemies." Stesirnbrotus, who mentions this trial, says Elpinice waited on Pericles at his own house, to entreat that he would behave with some lenity to her brother: for Peri- cles was the most vehement accuser he had. At present, he only said, "You are old, Elpinice, much too old to transact such business as this." However, when the cause came on, he was favor- able enough to Cimon, and rose up only once to speak during the whole impeachment, and then he did it in a slight manner. Cimon therefi was honorably acquitted. As to the rest of his administration, he opposed and restrained the people who were invading the province of the nobility, and wanted to appropri ate the direction of everything to themselves. But The manuscripts in general have Lacedemonians; and that is probably the true reading. For Cimon is well knowi to have had a strong attachment to that people. Beside the Macedonians were not a sober people. As to what ome oi)]eci, that it is strange he should make no mention of the Macedonians, when he was accused of being bribed by them; the answer is easy, we are not certain that Flu- larch has giren us all Canon's defense. when he was gone out upon a new expedition, they broke out again, and overturning the constitution, and most sacred customs of their country, at the instigation of Ephialtes, they took from the coun- cil of Areopagus those causes that used to come before it, and left it the cognizance of but very few. Thus, by bringing all matters before them- selves, they made the government a perfect de- mocracy. And this they did with the concurrence of Pericles, who by this time had grown very powerful, and had espoused their party. It was with great indignation that Cimon found, at his return, the dignity of that high court insulted; and he set himself to restore its jurisdiction, and te revive such an aristocracy as had obtained un- der Clisthenes. Upon this, his adversaries raised a great clamor, and exasperated the people against him, not forgetting those stories about his sister, and his own attachment to the Lacedemonians. Hence those verses of Eupolis about Cimon: He's not a villain, but a debauchee, Whose careless heart is lost on wine and women. The time has been, he slept in Laced;cmon, And left poor Elpinice here alone. But if with all his negligence and love of wine, he took so many cities, and gained so many victories, it is plain that if he had been a sober man and attentive to business, none of the Greeks, either before or after him, could have exceeded him in great and glorious actions. From his first setting out in life, he had an at- tachment to the Lacedaemonians. According to Stesimbrotus, he called one of the twins he had by a Clitonian woman, Lacedffimonius, and the other Eleus; and Pericles often took occasion to reproach them with their mean descent by their mother's side. ButDioclorus the geographer writes, that he had both these sons, and a third named Thessalus, by Isodice, daughter to Euryptolemus, the son of Megacles. The Spartans contributed not a little to the pro- motion of Cirnon. Being declared enemies to Themistocles, they much rather chose to adhere to Cimon, though but a young man, at the head of affairs in Athens. The Athenians, too, at first saw this with pleasure, because they reaped great ad- vantage from the regard which the Spartans had for Cirnon. When they began to tak^ the lead among the allies, and were gaining the chief di- rection of all the business of the league, it was no uneasiness to them to see the honor and esteem lie was held in. Indeed, Cimon was the man they pitched upon for transacting thai business, on ac- count of his humane behavior to the allies, and his interest with the Lacedremonians. But when they were become great and powerful, it gave them pain to see Cimon still adoring the Spartans. For he was always magnifying that people at their expense; and particularly, as Stesimbrotus tells us, when he had any fault to find with them, he used to say, " The Lacedaemonians would not have done so." On this account his countrymen bega to envy and to hate him. They had, however, a still heavier complaint against him, which took its rise as follows: In the fourth year of the reign of Archidamus, the son of Zeuxidamus, there happened the greatest earth- quake at Sparta that ever was heard of. The ground in many parts of Laconia was cleft asun- der; Mount Taygetus felt the shock, and its ridges were torn off; the whole city was dismantled, ex- cept five houses. The young men and boys were exercising in the portico, and it is said that a little before the earthquake a hare crossed the place, upon which the young men, naked and anointed as they were, ran out in sport after it. The build- PLUTARCH'S LIVES. 326 lug fell upon the boys that remained, and destroy- ; ed them altogether. Tiieir monument is still call- j ed from that event, Sismalia. Archidamus, amidst the present danger, per- ceived another that was likely to ensue, and, as he saw the people busy in endeavoring to save their most valuable movables, he ordered the trumpets to give Ihe alarm, as if some enemy were ready to fall upon them, that they might repair to him immediately with their weapons in their hands. This was the only thing which at this crisis saved Sparta. For the Helots docked togetiier on all sides from the fields to dispatch such as had escaped the earthquakes, but finding them armed and in good order, they returned to their villages, and declared open war. At the same time they persuaded some of their neighbors, among whom were the Messenians, to join them against Sparta. In this great distress the Lacedemonians sent Periciidas to Athens, to beg for succors. Aristo- phanes,* in his comic way, says, " There was an extraordinary contrast between his pale face and his red robe, as he sat a suppliant at the altars, and asked us for troops." Epliialtes strongly opposed and protested against giving any assistance to re- establish a city which was rival to their own, in- sisting that they ought rather to suffer the pride of Sparta to be trodden under foot. Cimon, howev- er, as Critias tells us, preferred the relief of Sparta to the enlargement of the Athenian power, and persuaded the people to inarch with a great army to its aid. Ion mentions the words which had the most effect upon them: he desired them, it seems, " Not to suffer Greece to be maimed, nor to de- prive their own city of its companion." When he returned from assisting the Lacede- monians, he marched with his army through Co- rinth. Lachartus complained in high terms of his bringing in his troops without permission of the citizens: " For," said he, "when we knock at another man's door, we do not enter without leave from the master." "But you, Lachartus," an- swered Cimon, "did not knock at the gates of Cleone and Megara, but broke them in pieces, and forced your way in, upon this principle, that nothing should be shut against the strong." With this boldness and propriety too did he speak to the Corinthian, and then pursued his march. After this, the Spartans called in the. Athenians a second time against the Messenians and Helots in Ithome.f But when they were arrived, they were more afraid of their spirit of enterprise than of the enemy, and therefore, of all their allies, sent them only back again, as persons suspected of some dishonorable design. They returned full of resentment, of course,; and now openly de- clared themselves against the partisans of the La- cedaemonians, and particular!)' against Cimon. In consequence of this, upon a slight pretense, they banished him for ten years, which is the term the ostracism extends to. In the meantime, the Lacedemonians, in their return from an expedition in which they had de livered Delphi from the Phocians, encamped at Tengara. The Athenians came to give them bat tie. On this occasion Cimon appeared in arms among those of his own tribe, which was that of Oeneis, to fight for his country against the Lace- daemonians. When the council of five hundred heard of it, they were afraid that his enemies would raise a clamor against him, as if he WM only come to throw things in confusion, and to bring the Lacedaemonians into Athens, and there- fore forbade the generals to receive him. Cimon, upon this retired, after he had desired Euthippua he Anaphlystian, and the rest of his friends, who were most censured as partisans of Sparta, to exert themselves gloriously against the enemy, and y their behavior to wipe off the aspersion. These brave men, in number about a hundred, ook Cimon's armor (as a sacred pledge) into the midst of their little band, formed themselves into a close body, and fought, until they all fell, with he greatest ardor imaginable. The Athenians regretted them exceedingly, and repented of the unjust censures they had fixed upon them. Their resentment against Cimon, too, soon abated, partly orn the remembrance of his past services, and >artly from the difficulties they lay under at the >resent juncture They were beaten in the great battle fought at Tanagra, and they expected an- other army would come against them from Pelo- ponnesus the next spring. Hence it was, that they recalled Cimon from banishment, and Pericles hiirnself was the first to propose it. With so much candor were differences managed then, so moderate the resentments of men, ancTso easily laid down, where the public good required it! Ambition it- self, the strongest of all passions, yielded to the interests and necessities of the country! Cimon, soon after his return, put an end to the war, and reconciled the two cities. After the peace was made, he saw the Athenians could not sit down quietly, but still wanted to be in motion, and to aggrandize themselves by new expeditions. To prevent their exciting further troubles in Greece, and giving a handle for intestine wars, and heavy complaints of the allies against Athens, on account of their formidable fleets traversing the seas about the islands and around Peloponne- sus, he fitted out a fleet of two hundred sail, to carry war into Egypt and Cyprus.* This he thought would answer two intentions; it would accustom the Athenians to conflicts with the bar- barians, and it would improve their substance in an honorable manner, by bringing the rich spoils of their natural enemies into Greece. When all was now ready, and the army on the point of embarking, Cimon had this dream. An angry bitch seemed to bay at him, and something between barking and a human voice, to utter * Lysistrata, 1. 1140. t The Spartans were not skilled in sieges. j The Athenians, in resentment of this affront, broke the alliance with Sparta, and joined in confederacy with the Arrives. Thucyd. 1. i. * The history of the first expedition is this. While Ci- mon was employed in his enterprise against Cyprus, Inarns, king of Libya, having brought the greatest part of Lower Egypt to revolt from Artaxerxes, called in the Athenians to assist him to complete his conquest. Hereupon, the Athe- nians quitted Cyprus, and sailed into Egypt. They made themselves masters of the Nile, and, attacking Memphis, sei/ed two of the outworks, and attempted the third, called the white wall. Jhit the expedition proved very unfortunate. Artaxerxes sen? Megabyziis with a powerful army into Egypt. He defeated the rebels, and the Libyans their as- sociates, drove the Greeks from Memphis, shut them up in the island of Prospitis eighteen months, and at last forced them to surrender. They almost all perished in that war, which lasted six years. Inarus, in violation of the public faith, was crucified. The second expedition was undertaken a few years after, and was not more successful. The Athenians went against Cyprus with two hundred galleys. While they were be- sieging Citium there, Amyrtaeus the Saite applied to them for succors in Egypt, and Cimon sent him sixty of his gal- leys. Some say he went with them himself; others, that he" continued before Citium. But nothing of moment wa transacted at this time to the prejudice of the Persians in P^gypt. However, in the tenth year of Darius Northns, Amyrttetn issued from the fens, and, being joined by all the Egyptians, drove the Persians oil of the kingdom, and became kin" of the whole coantiy Thucyd. 1. ii. Died. Sic. 1. xi. tfcese words: Come on; I and my whelps with plea- sure shall receive ttiee Though the dream was hard to interpret, Astyphilus the Posidonian, a great diviner, and friend of Cimon's, told him it signified his death He argued thus: a dog is an enemy to the man he barks at; and no one can give his enemy greater pleasure than by his death. The mixture of the voice pointed out that the enemy was a Mede, for the armies of the Medes are composed of Greeks and barbarians. After this dream, he had another sign in sacrificing to Bacchus. When the priest had killed the victim, a swarm of ants took up the clotted blood little by little, and laid it upon Cimon's great toe. This they did for some time without any one's taking notice of it: at lastCimon himself observed it, and at the same instant the soothsayer came and show- ed him the liver without a head. The expedition, however, could not now be put off, and therefore he set sail. He sent sixty of his galleys against Egypt, and with the rest made for the Asiatic coast, where he defeated the king's fleet, consisting of Phoenician and Cilician ships, made himself master of the cities in that circuit, and watched his opportunity to penetrate into Egypt. Everj thing was great in the designs he formed. He thought of nothing less than over- turning the whole Persian empire; and the rather, because lie was informed that Themistocles was in great reputation and power with the bar- barians, and had promised the king to take the conduct of the Grecian war, whenever he entered upon it. But Themistocles, they tell us, in despair of managing it to any advantage, and of getting the better of the good fortune and valor of Cimon, fell by his own hand. When Ciuion had formed these great projects as a first step toward them, he cast anchor before Cyprus. From thence he sent persons in whom he could confide with a private question to the oracle of Jupiter Ammon; for their errand was entirely unknown. Nor did the deity return them any answer, but immediately upon their arrival ordered them to return, " Because Cimon," said he, " is already with me." The messengers upon this, took the road to the sea, and when they LUCULLUS. 327 reached the Grecian camp, which was then on the coasts of Egypt, they found that Cimon was dead. They then inquired what day he died, and com- paring it with the time the orarle was delivered, they perceived that his departure was enigma- tically pointed at in the expression, " That he was already with the gods." According to most authors, he died a natural death during the siege of Citium; but some say he died of a wound lie received in an engagement with the barbarians. The last advice he gave those about him was, to sail away immediately, and to conceal his death. Accordingly, before the enemy or their allies knew the real state of the case, they returned in safety by the generalship of Cimon, exercised, as Phano- demus says, thirty days after his death. Alter he was gone, there was not one Grecian general who did anything considerable against the barbarians. The leading orators were little better than incendiaries, who set the Greeks one against another, and involved them in intestine wars; nor was there any healing hand to interpose. Thus the king's affairs had time to recover themselves, and inexpressible ruin was brought upon the powers of Greece. Long after this, indeed, Age- silaus carried his arms into Asia, and renewed the war awhile against the king's lieutenants on tho coast: but he was so soon recalled by the seditions and tumults which broke out afresh in Greece, that he could do nothing extraordinary. The Persian tax-gatherers were then left amidst the cities in alliance and friendship with the Greeks; whereas, while Cimon had the command, not a single collector was seen, nor so much as a horse- man appeared within four hundred furlongs from the sea-coast. That his remains were brought to Attica, his monument there is a sufficient proof, for it still bears the title of Cimonia. Nevertheless the peo- ple of Citium have a tomb of Cimon, which they hold in great veneration, as Nausicrates the orator informs us ; the gods having ordered them in a certain famine not to disregard his manes, but to honor and worship him as a superior being. Such was this Grecian general. LUCULLUS. THE grandfather of Lucullus was a man of consular dignity; Metellus, surnamed Numidicus, was his uncle by his mother's side. His father was found guilty of embezzling the public money, and his mother, Caecilia, had but an indifferent reputation for chastity. As for Lucullus himself, while he- was but a youth, before he solicited any public charge, or attempted to gain a share in the administration, he made his first appearance in impeaching Servilius the augur, who had been his father's accuser. As he had caught Servilius in some act of injustice in the execution of his office, all the world commended the prosecution, and talked of it as an indication of extraordinary spirit. Indeed, where there was no injury to revenge, the Romans considered the business of impeachments as a generous pursuit, and they chose to have their young men fasten upon criminals, like so many well-bred hounds upon their prey. Tho cauise was argued with so much vehe- mence, that they came to blows, and several were wounded, and some killed; in the end, however, Servilius was acquitted. But though Lucullus lost his cause, he had great command both of the Greek and Latin tongues; insomuch that Sylla dedicated his Commentaries to him, as a person who could reduce the acts and incidents to much better order, and compose a more agreeable history of them, than himself. For his eloquence was not only occasional, or exerted when necessity called for it, like that of other orators who beat about in the forum, As sports the vaulting tunny in the main, but when they are out of it, Are dry, inelegant, and dead He had applied himself to the sciences called libf- ral, and was deep in the study of humanity from his youth; and in his age he withdrew from public labors, of which ht- had had a great share, to re- 328 PLUTARCH'S LIVES pose himself in the bosom of philosophy, and to enjoy the speculations she suggested; bidding a timely adieu to ambition after his difference with Pomp'ey. To what we have said of his ingenuity and skill in languages, the following story may be added. While he was but a youth, as he was jesting one day with Hortensius the orator, and jSisenna the historian, he undertook to write a short history of the Marsi, either in Greek or Latin verse, as the lot should fall. They took him at his word, and, according to the lot, it was to be in Greek. That history of his is still extant. Among the many proofs of his affection for his brother Marcus, the Romans speak most of the first. Though he was much older than Marcus, he would not accept any office without him, but waited his time. This was so agreeable to the people, that in his absence they created him aedile along with his brotlrer. Though he was but a stripling at the time of the Marsian war, there appeared many instances of his courage and understanding. But Sylla's attachment to him was principally owing to his constancy and mildness. On this account he made use of his services, from first to last, in his most important affairs. Among other things, he gave him the direction of the mint. It was he who coined most of Sylla's money in Pelopon- nesus, during the Mithridatic war. From him it was called Lucullia; and itcontinued to be chiefly in use for the occasions of the army, for the good- ness of it made it pass with ease. Some time after this, Sylla engaged in the siege of Athens; and though he was victorious by land, the superiority of the enemy at sea straitened him for provisions. For this reason he dispatched Lucullus into Egypt and Libya, to procure him a supply of ships. It was then the depth of win- ter; yet he scrupled not to sail with three small Greek brigantiues and as many small Rhodian galleys, which were to meet strong seas, and a number of the enemy's ships which kept watch on all sides, because their strength lav there. In spite of this opposition he reached" Crete, and brought it over to Sylla's interest. From thence he passed to Gyrene, where he delivered the people from the tyrants and civil wars with which they had been harassed, and re- established their constitution. In this he availed himself of a saying of Plato, who, when he was desired to give them a body of laws, and to settle their government upon rational principles, gave them this oracular answer: "It is very difficult to give laws to so prosperous a people." In fact, nothing is harder to govern than man when For- tune smiles, nor anything more tractable than he when calamity lays her hands upon him. Hence ; t was that Lucullus found the Cyrenians so pliant and submissive to his regulations. From Gyrene he sailed to Egypt, but was at- tacked by pirates on his way, and lost most of the vessels he had collected. He himself escaped, and entered the port of Alexandria in a magni- ficent manner, being conducted in by the whole Egyptian fleet, set off to the best advantage, as it ustd to be when it attended the king in person. Ptoierny,* who was but a youth, received him with all demonstrations of respect, and even lodged and provided him a table in his own palace; an honor which had not been granted before to any Palmerius takes thi* for Ptolemy Auletes; but Auletes was not. king until the year before Christ sixty-five. It must, therefore, have been Ptolemy Lathyrus. "For Sylla concluded the peace with Mithriilates in the year before Christ eight) -two. foreign commander. Nor was the allowance for his expenses the same which others had, but four times as much. Lucullus, however, took no more than was absolutely necessary, and refusec the king's presents, though he was offered no less than the value of eighty talents. It is said, he neither visited Memphis, nor any other of the celebrated wonders of Egypt; thinking it rather the business of a persona who has time, and only travels for pleasures, than of him who had left his general engaged in a siege, and encamped before the enemy's fortifications. Ptolemv refused to enter into alliance with Sylla for fear of bringing war upon himself, but he gave Lucullus a convoy to escort him to Cyprus, embraced him at parting, and respectfully offered him a rich emerald set in gold. Lucullus at first declined it, but upon the king's showing him his own picture engraved on it, he was afraid to re- fuse it, lest he should be thought to go away with hostile intentions, and in consequence have some fatal scheme formed against him at sea. In his return he collected a number of ships from the maritime towns, excepting those that had given shelter and protection to pirates, and with this fleet he passed over to Cyprus. There he found that the enemy's ships lay in wait for him under some point ot land; and therefore he laid up his fleet, and wrote to the cities to provide him quarters and all necessaries, as if he Intended to pass the winter there. But as soon as the wind served, he immediately launched again, and pro- ceeded on his voyage, lowering his sails in the day-time, and hoisting them again when it grow dark; by which stratagem he got safe to Rhodes. There he got a fresh supply of ships, and found means to persuade the people of Cos and Cnidus to quit Mithridates, and join him against the Samians. With his own forces he drove the king's troops out of Chios; took Epigonus, the Colophonian tyrant prisoner, and set the people free. At this time Mithridates was forced to abandon Pergamus, and had retired to Pitana. As Fimbria shut him up by land, he cast his eyes upon the sea, and in despair of facing in the field that bold and victorious officer, collected his ships from all quarters. Fimbria saw this, but was sensible of his want of naval strength, and therefore sent to entreat Lucullus to come with his fleet, and assist him in taking a king, who was the most warlike and virulent enemy the Romans had. " Let not Mithridates," said he, " the glorious prize which has been sought in so many labors and conflicts, escape; as he is fallen into the hands of the Ro- mans, and is already in their net. When he is taken, who will have a greater share in the honor than he who stops his flight, and catches him as he goes? If I shut him up by land, and you do the same by sea, the plan will be all our own, What value will Rome then set upon the actions' of Sylla at Orchomenus and Chasronea, though now so much extolled?" There was nothing absurd in the proposal. Everybody saw, that if Lucullus, who was at no great distance, had brought up his fleet, and block- ed up the harbor, the war would have been at an end, and they would all have been delivered from infinite calamities. But whether it was that he preferred his fidelity, as Sylla's lieutenant, to his own interest and that of the public; whether he abhorred Fimbria, as a villain- whose ambition had lately led him to murder hi.i general and his friend; or whether, by some owiuling influence of fortune, he reserved Mithri.i^es for lt j .? pvn | antagonist, he absolutely reject.^ ih LU CULLUS. 329 He suffered him to get out of the harbor, and to laugh at Fimbria'a land forces. After this, he had the honor of beating the king's fleet twice. The first time was at Lectum, a promontory of Troas; the second at Tenedos, arhere he saw Neoptolemus at anchor with a more considerable, force. Upon this, Lucullus advanced before the rest of the ships, in a Rhodian galley of five banks of oars, commanded by Demagoras, a man very faithful to the Romans, and experienced In naval affairs. Neoptolemus met him with great fury, and ordered the master of his ship to Btrike against that of Lucullus. But Demagoras, fearing the weight of the admiral's galley and the chock of its brazen beak, thought it dangerous to meet him a-head. He therefore tacked about, and received him a-stern, in which place he received no great damage, because the stroke was upon the lower parts of the ship, which were under water. In tilts meantime, the rest of his fleet coming up, Lucullus ordered his own ship to tuck again, fell upon the enemy, and, after many gallant actions, put them to flight, and pursued Neoptolemus for some time. This done, he went to meet Sylla, who was going to cross the sea from the Chersonesus. Here lie secured the passage, and helped to trans- port his army. When the peace was agreed upon,* Mithridates sailed into the Euxine sea, and Sylla laid a fine upon Asia of twenty thousand talents. Lucullus was commissioned to collect the tax, and to coin the money; and it was some consolation to the cities, amidst tlie severity of Sylla, that Lucul- lus acted not only with the utmost justice, but with all the lenity that so difficult and odious a charge would admit of. As the Mitylenians had openly revolted, he wanted to bring them to acknowledge their fault, and pay a moderate fine for having joined Marius's party. But, led by their ill genius, they con- tinued obstinate. Upon this he went against them with his fleet, beat them in a great battle and shut them up within their walls. Some days after he had begun the siege, he had recourse to this stratagem. In open day he set sail toward Elea, but returned privately at night, and lay close, near the city. The Mitylenians then sal- lying out in a bold and disorderly manner to plunder his camp, which they thought he had abandoned, he fell upon 'them, took most of them prisoners, and killed five hundred who stood upon their defense. Here he got six thousand slaves, and an immense quantity of other spoil He had no hand in the various and unspeakable evils which Sylla and Marius brought upon Italy for, by the favor of Providence, he was engaged in the affairs of Asia. Yet none of Sylla's friends had greater interest with him. Sylla, as we have said, out of particular regard dedicated his Corn menturies to him; and passing Pompey by, in his last will constituted him guardian to his son This seems to have first occasioned those differ- ences and that jealousy which subsisted belweei Pompey and Lucullus, both young men, and ful of ardor in the pursuit of glory. A little after the death of Sylla, Lucullus was chosen consul along with Marcus Gotta, about the hundred and seventy-sixth Olympiad. Ai this ".line, imny proposed to renew the war with Mith ridates, and Cotta himself said, "The fire was no extinguished, it only slept in embers." Lucullus therefore, was much concerned at having the Cisalpine Gaul allotted as his province, whicl * This peace was concluded in the year of Borne si bundled and sixty-nine, eighty years before the death o Sjlla romised him no opportunity to distinguish him- elf. But the honor Pompey had acquired iu Spain gave him most trouble; because that gene- ral's superior reputation, he clearly saw, after the ~panish war was ended, would entitle him to the command against Mithridates. Hence it was, hat when Pompey applied for money, and inform- ed the government, that if he was not supplied, he must leave Spain, and Sertorius, and bring his 'orces back to Italy, Lucullus readily exerted lirnself to procure the supplies, and to prevent lis returning upon any pretext whatever during lis consulship. He knew that every measure at lome would be under Pompey's direction, if he came with such an army. For, at this very time, he tribune Cethegus, who had the lead, because e consulted nothing but the humor of the peo- ple, was at enmity with Lucullus, on account of lis detesting that tribune's life, polluted as it was with infamous amours, insolence, and every spe- cies of profligacy. Against this man he declared open war. Lucius Quintius, another tribune, wanted to annul the acts of Sylla, and to disorder the whole face of affairs, which was now tolera- bly composed. But Lucullus, by private represen- tations and public remonstrances, drew him from lis purpose, and restrained his ambition. Thus, in the most politis and salutary way imaginable, lie destroyed the seeds of a very dangerous dis- se. About this time, news was brought of the death of Octavius, governor of Cilicia. There were many competitors for that province, and they all paid their court to Cethegus, as the person most likely to procure it for them. Lucullus set no great value upon that government; but as it was near Cappadocia, he concluded, if he could obtain it, that the Romans would not think of employing any other general against Mithridates. For this reason, he exerted all his art to secure the province to himself. At last, he was necessitated, against the bent of his disposition, to give in to a measure which was deemed indirect and illiberal, but very conducive to his purpose. There was a woman then in Rome, named Prsecia, famed for beauty and enchanting wit, but in other respects, no better than a common pros- titute. By applying her interest with those who frequented her house and were fond of her com- pany, to serve her friends in the administration, and in other affairs, she added to her other ac- complishments the reputation of being a useful friend and a woman of business. This exalted her not a little. But when she had captivated Cethe- gus, who was then in the hight of his glory, and carried all before him in Rome, the whole power fell into her hands. Nothing was done without the favor of Cethegus, nor by Cethegus without the consent of Prrecia. To her Lucullus applied, by presents and the most insinuating compliments; nor could anything have been more acceptable to a vain and pompous woman, than to see herself flattered and courted by such a man as Lucullus. The consequence was, that Cethegus 'immediately espoused his cause, and solicited for him the pro- vince of Cilicia. When he had gained this, he had no farther need either of Preecia or Cethegus. All came into his interest, and, with one voice, gave him the command in the Mithridatic war. He indeed could not but be considered as the fit- tes 4 person for that charge, because Pompey was engaged with Sertorius, and Metellus had given up his pretensions, on account of his great age; and these were the only persons who could stand in competition for it with Lucullus. However, his colleague Cotta, by much application, prevail- 330 PLUTARCH'S LIVES ed upon the senate to send him with a fleet to guard the Propontis, and to protect Bifhynia. Luculius, with a legion now levied in Italy, passed over into Asia, where he found the rest of the troops that were to compose his army. These had all been long entirely corrupted by luxury and avarice; and that part of them called Fim- brians was more untractable than the rest, on ac- count of their having been under no command. At the instigation of Firnbria, they had killed Flaccus, who was consul and their general too, and had betrayed Fimbria himself to Sylla; and they were still mutinous and lawless men, though in other respects, brave, hardy, and experienced soldiers. Nevertheless, Luculius, in a little time, subdued the seditious spirit of these men, and cor- rected the faults of the rest: so that now they first found a real commander, whereas, before they had been brought to serve by indulgence, and" every promise of pleasure. The affairs of the enemy were in this posture. Mithridates, like a sophistical warrior, had formerly met the Romans in a vain and ostentatious manner, with forces that were showy and pom- pous indeed, but of little use. Baffled and dis- graced in his attempt, he grew wiser, and there- fore, in this second war, he provided troops that were capable of real service. He retrenched that mixed multitude of nations, and those bravadoes that were issued from his camp in a barbarous va- riety of language, together with the rich arms adorned with gold and precious stones, which he now considered rather as the spoils of the conquer- or, than as adding any vigor to the men that wore them. Instead of this, he armed them with swords in the Roman fashion, and with large and heavy shields; and his cavalry he provided with horses rather well-trained than gaily accoutered. His infantry consisted of a hundred and twenty thousand, and his cavalry of sixteen thousand, be- side armed chariots to the number of a hundred. His navy was not equipped, as before, with gilded pavilions, baths, and delicious apartments for the women, but with all manner of weapons, offensive and defensive, and money to pay the troops. In this respectable form he invaded Bithynia, where the cities received him with pleasure; and not only that country, but all Asia returned to its former distempered inclinations, by reason of the intolerable evils that the Roman usurers and tax-gatherers had brought upon them. These Lucullus afterward drove away, like so many harpies, which robbed the poor inhabitants of their food. At present, he was satisfied with reprimand- ing them, and bringing them to exercise their office with more moderation; by which means, he kept the Asiatics from revolting, when their incli- nations lay almost universally that way. While Lucullus was employed in these matters, Cotta, thinking he had found his opportunity, pre- pared to give Mithridates battle. And as he had accounts from many hands, that Lucullus was coming up, and was already encamped in Phry- gia, he did everything to expedite the engagement in order to prevent Lucullus from having any share in the triumph, which he believed was now all his own. He was defeated, however, both by sea and land, with the loss of sixty ships, and all their crews, as well as four thousand land forces; after which, he was shut up in Chalcedon, and had no resource except in the assistance of Lucullus. Lucullus was advised, notwithstanding, to take no notice of Cotta, but to march forward into the kingdom of Mithridates, which he would find in a defenseless state. On this occasion, the soldiers were loudest in their complaints. They represent- ed that Cotta had, by his rash counsels, not only ruined himself and his own men, but done them too great prejudice; since, had it not been for his error, they might have conquered without loss. But Lucullus, in a set speech upon this sub- ject told them, "He had rather deliver one Roman out of the enemy's hand, than take all the enemy had." And when Archelaus, who formerly had commanded the king's forces in Boeotia, but now was come over to the Romans, and fought for them, asserted, "That if Lucullus would but once make his appearance in Pontus, all would imme- diately fall before him;" he said, "He would not act in a more cowardly manner than hunters, nor pass the wild beasts by, and go to their empty dens." He had no sooner uttered these words, than he marched against Mithridates with thirty thousand foot, and two thousand five hundred horse. When he got sight of the enemy, he was aston- ished at their numbers, and determined to avoid a battle and gain time. But Marius,* a Roman officer, whom Sertorius had sent to Mithridates out of Spain with some troops, advanced to meet Lucullus, and gave him the challenge. Lucullus accepted it, and put his army in order of battle. The signal was just ready to be given, when, with- out any visible alteration, there was a sudden ex- plosion in the air, and a large luminous body was seen to fall between the two armies: its form was like that of a large tun, and its color that of molten silver. Both sides were so affected with the phenomenon, that they parted without striking a blow. This prodigy is said to have happened in Phrygia, at a place called Otrya?. Lucullus, concluding that no human supplies could be sufficient to maintain so many myriads as Mithridates had, for any length of time, espe- cially in presence of an enemy, ordered one of the prisoners to be brought before him. The first question he put to him was, how many there were in his mess, and the second, what provisions he had left in his tent. When he had this man's answer, he commanded him to withdraw; and then examined a second and a third in like man- ner. The next thing was to compare the quantity of provisions which Mithridates had laid in, with the number of soldiers he had to support; by which he found that in three or four tiays they would be in want of bread-corn. This confirmed him in his design of gaining time; and lie caused great plenty of provisions to be brought into hia own camp, that in the midst of abundance he might watch the enemy's distress. Notwithstanding this, Mithridates formed a design against the Cj'zicenians, who were beaten in the late battle near Chalcedon, f and had lost three thousand men and ten ships. To deceive Lucullus, he decamped soon after supper, one dark tempestuous night; and marched with so much expedition that at break of day he got be- fore the town, and posted himself upon mount Adrastia.J As soon as Lucullus perceived he was gone, he followed his steps; and without falling unawares upon the enemy in the obscurity of the night, as he might easily have done, he reached the place of his destination, and sat down at a village called Thraceia, the most commodious situation imaginable for guarding the loads and \ cutting off the enemy's convoys. He was now so sure of his aim that he concealed * Appian calls him Varius. t Along with Cotta. j So called from a. temple in the city consecrated by Adrastus to the goddess Nemesis, who from thence had th name of Adrastia. LUCULLUS. 531 ft no longer from his men; but when they had intrenched themselves, and returned from their labor, called them together, and told them with great triumph, "In a few days he would gain them a victory which should not cost one drop of blood." Mithri dates had planted his troops in ten diffe- rent posts about the city, and with his vessels blocked up the frith which parts it from the con- tinent,* so that it was invested on all sides. The Cyzicenians were prepared to combat the greatest difficulties, and to suffer the last extremities in the Roman cause: but they knew not where Lucullus was, and were much concerned that they could get no account of him. Though his camp was visible enough, the enemy had the art to impose upon them. Pointing to the Romans who were posted on the hights, "Do you see that army?" said they: "those are the Armenians and Medes, whom Tigranes has sent as a reinforcement to Mithridates." Surrounded with such an immense number of enemies, as they thought, and having no hope of relief but from the arrival of Lucullus, they were in the utmost consternation. When Demonax, whom Archelaus found means to send into the town,f brought them news that Lucullus Wiis arrived, at first they could hardly believe it, Imagining he came only with a feigned Btory, to encourage them to bear up in their pre- sent distress. However, the same moment a boy made his appearance, who had been a prisoner among the enemy, and had just made his escape. Upon their asking him where Lucullus was, he laughed, thinking them only in jest; but when he saw they were in earnest, he pointed with his fin- ger to the Roman camp. This sufficiently revived their drooping spirits. In the lake Dascylitis, near Cyzicus, there were vessels of a considerable size. Lucullus hauled up the largest of them, put it upon a carriage, and drew it down to the sea. Then he put on board it as many soldiers as it could contain, and ordered them to get into Cyzicus, which they effected in the night. It seems too that Heaven, delighted with the valor of the Cyzicenians, supported them with several remarkable signs. The feast of Proser- pine was come, when they were to sacrifice a black heifer to her; and as they had no living ani- mal of that kind, they made one of paste,} and were approaching the altar with it. The victim, bred for that purpose, pastured with the rest of their cattle on the other side of the frith. On that very day she parted from the herd, swam alone to the town, and presented herself before the altar. The same goddess appeared to Aristogoras, the public secretary, in a dream, and said, "Go and tell your fellow-citizens to take courage, for I shall bring the African piper against the trum- peter of Pontus." While the Cizycenians were wondering at this oracular expression in the morning, a strong wind blew, and the sea was in the utmost agitation. The king's machines erected against the walls, the wonuerful work of Niconidus the Thessalian. by the noise and cracking first announced what * Strabo says, Cyzicus lies upon the Propontis, and is an island joined" to the continent by two bridges; near which is a city of the same name, with two harbors, capable of containing tsvo hundred vessels. Strab. 1. xii. t By the assistance of bladders, he swam int the town. Fiorua, I. iii. t The Pythagoreans, who thought it unlawful to Mi* any animal, seem to have been the first among the Greeks who offered the figures of animals in paste, myrrh, or some Other composition. The poorer sort of Egyptians are said lo have done the s-ame from another principle. was to' come. Then a south wind incredibly vio- lent arose; and in the short space of an hour broke all the engines to pieces and destroyed the wooden tower, which was a hundred cubits high. It is moreover related, that Minerv was seen by many at Ilium in their sleep, all covered with sweat and with part of her vail rent; and that she said, she was just come from assisting the people of Cyzi- cus. Nay, they showed at Ilium a pillar which had an inscription to that purpose. As long as Mithridates was deceived by his offi- cers, and kept in ignorance of the famine that prevailed in the camp, he lamented his miscarriage iu the siege. But when he came to be sensible of the extremity to which his soldiers were reduced, and that they were forced to eat even human flesh,* all his ambition and spirit of contention died away. He found Lucullus did not make war in a theatrical, ostentatious manner, but aimed his blows at his very heart, and left nothing unat- tempted to deprive him of provisions. He there- fore seized his opportunity while the Romans were attacking a certain fort, to send off almost all his cavalry and his beasts of burden, as well as the least useful part of his infantry, into Bilhynia. When Lucullus was apprised of their departure, he retired during the night into his camp. Next morning there was a violent storm; nevertheless he began the pursuit with ten cohorts of foot, beside his cavalry. All the way he was greatly incommoded by the snow, and the cold was so piercing that several of his soldiers sunk under it, and were forced to slop. With the rest he over- took the enemy at the river Rhyndacus, and made such havoc among them, that the women of Apol- lonia came out to plunder the convoys and to strip tlie slain. The slain, as may well be imagined, were very numerous, and Lucullus made fifteen thousand prisoners ; beside which, he took six thousand horses and an infinite number of beasts of burden. And he made it his business to lead them all by the enemy's camp. I cannot help wondering at Sallust's saying, that this was the first time that the Romans saw a camel.f Plow could he think that those who for- merly under Scipio conquered Antiochus and lately defeated Archelaus at Orchomenus and Chaerouea, should be unacquainted with that animal ? Mithridates now resolved upon a speedy flight; and to amuse Lucullus with employment in an- other quarter, he sent his admiral Aristonicus to the Grecian sea. But just as he was on the point of sailing, he was betrayed to Lucullus, together with ten thousand pieces of gold, which he took with him to corrupt some part of the Roman forces. After this, Mithridates made his escape by sea, and left his generals to get off with the army in the best manner they could. Lucullus coming up with them at the river Granicus, killed full twenty thousand, and made a prodigiou number of prisoners. It is said that in this cam paign the enemy lost near three hundred thousand * There is .something extremely improbable in this. It does not appear that Mithridates was so totally blocked tip by Lucullus, as to reduce him to this extremity; and even had that been the case, it would certainly have been more eligible to have risked a battle, than to have submitted to the dreadful alternative here mentioned. But wherefore eat human flesh, when afterward, we are expres^y told, j that they had beasts to send away? There is, to the best of our knowledge and belief, as little foundation in history for this practice, as there is in nature. t Livy expressly tells us, there were camels in Antio- chus's army. "Before the cavalry were placed the chart ots armed with scythes, and camels of that species callec' dromedaries." Liv. lib. xxxvii. c. 40. 332 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. men, reckoning the servants of the army as well as the soldiers. Lucullus immediately entered Cyzicum, where he was received with every testimony of joy and respect. After which he went to the Hellespont, to collect ships to make up a fleet. On this occa- sion he touched at Troas, and slept, there in the temple of Venus. The goddess, he dreamed, stood by him, and addressed him as follows: Dost thou then sleep, great monarch of the woods? The fawns are rustling near thee. Upon this he rose and calling his friends to- gether while it was yet dark, related to them the vision. He had hardly made an end, when mes- sengers arrived from Ilium, with an account that they had seen off the Grecian harbor* thirteen of the king's large galleys steering toward Lemnos. He went in pursuit of them without losing a mo- ment, took them, and killed their admiral Isido- rus. When this was done, he made all the sail he could after some others which were before. These lay at anchor by the island; and as soon as the officers perceived his approach, they hauled the ships ashore, and fighting from the decks, galled the Romans exceedingly. The Romans had no chance to surround them; nor could their galleys, which were by the waves kept in continual mo- tion, make any impression upon those of the enemy, which were on firm ground, and stood immovable. At last, having with much difficulty found a landing-place, he put some of his troops on shore, who taking them in the rear, killed a number of them, and forced the rest to cut their cables and stand out at sea. In the confusion the vessels dashed one against another, or fell upon the beaks of those of Lucullus. The destruction consequently was great. Marius, the general sent by Sertorius, was among the prisoners. He had but one eye: and Lucullus, when he first set sail, had given his men a strict charge not to kill any person with one eye; in order that he might be reserved for a death of greater torture and disgrace. After this, he hastened to pursue Mithridates himself, whom he hoped to find in Bithynia blocked up by Voconius. He had sent this officer before with a fleet to Nicomedia, to prevent the king's escape. But Voconius had loitered in Sa- mothrace, about getting himself initiated in the mysteries -f- and celebrated festivals. Mithridates in the meantime had got out, and was making great elForts to reach Pontus before Lucullus could come to stop him. But a violent tempest over- took him, by which many of his vessels were dashed to pieces and many sunk. The whole shore was covered with the wreck which the sea threw up for several days. As for the king him- self, the ship in which he sailed was so large, that the pilots could not make land with it amidst such a terrible agitation of the waves, and it was by this time ready to founder with the water it had taken in. He therefore got into a shallop belong- ing to some pirates, and trusting his life to their hands, beyond all hope, was brought safe to Hera- clea, in Pontus, after having passed through the most unspeakable dangers. * Plutarch means the harbor where the Grecians landed when they were going to the siege of Troy. t The mysteries of the Cabiri. The worship of these pods was probably brought from Phoenicia; lor cabir, in the language of that country, signifies powerful. They were reverenced as the most tremendous of superior beings; the more so, because of the mysteries and awful solemnities of their worship. Some have pretended to give us an account of their names, though thev were locked up in the profound- est secrecy. In this war, Lucullus behaved to the senate of Rome with an honest pride, which had its success. They had decreed him three thousand talents to enable him to fit out a fleet. But he acquainted them by letters, that he had no need of money, and boasted that, without so much expense and such mighty preparations, he would drive Mithri- dates out of the sea with the ships the allies would give him. And he performed his promise by the assistance of a superior power. For the tempest which ruined the Politic fleet, is said to have been raised by the resentment of Diana of Priapus, for their plundering her temple and beating down her statue. Lucullus was now advised by many of his offi- cers to let the war sleep awhile; but, without regarding their opinion, he penetrated into the kingdom of Pontus, by way of Bithynia and Ga- latia. At first he found provisions so scarce, that he was forced to have thirty thousand Gauls fol- low him with each a measure* of wheat upon hia shoulders. But as he proceeded further in his march, and bore down all opposition, he came to such plenty, that an ox was sold for one drachma, and a slave for four. The rest of the booty was so little regarded, that some left it behind them, and others destroyed it; for, amidst such abun- dance, they could not find a purchaser. Having in the excursions of their cavalry, laid waste all the country as far as Themiscyrae and about the river Thermadon, they complained that Lucullus took all the towns by capitulation, instead of storm, and gave not up one to the soldiers for plunder. " Now," said they, " you leave Amisus, a rich and flourishing city, which might be easily taken, if you would assault it vigorously; and drag us after Mithridates into the wastes of Tibarene and Chal- dsea." Lucullus, however, not thinking they would break out into that rage which afterward appeared, neglected their remonstrances. He took more pains to excuse himself to those who blamed his slow progress, and his losing time in reducing towns and villages of little consequence, while Mithri- dates was again gathering power. "This is the very thing," said he, " that I want and aim at in all my operations, that Mithridates may get strength, and collect an army respectable enough to make him stand an engagement, and not continue to fly before us. Do you not see what vast and bound- less deserts lie behind him? Is not Caucasus, with all its immense train of mountains at hand, suf- ficient to hide him and numberless other kings who wish to avoid a battle? It is but a few days' journey from the country of the Cabirif into Ar- menia, where Tigranes, king of kings, is seated, surrounded with that power which has wrested Asia from the Parthians, which carries Grecian colonies into Media, subdues Syria and Palestine, cuts off the Seieucidae and carries their wives and daughters into captivity. This prince is nearly allied to Mithridates; he is his son-in-law. Do you think he will disregard him, when he comes as a suppliant, arid not take up arms in his cause? Why will you then be in such haste to drive Mithridates out of his dominions, and risk the bringing Tigranes upon us, who has long wanted a pretense for it? And surely he cannot find a more specious one, than that of succoring a father- * Medimnus. t Hence it appears, as well as from a passage in Strabo, | that there was a district on the borders of Phrygia called I Cabiri. Indeed, the worship of those gods had prevailed I in several parts of Asia, and ihey are supposed to hav > had homage paid them at Rome, under the title of DtM i Potf.s, LUCULLU S. 333 !n-Iavr. and a king reduced to such extreme neces- sity. What need is there then for us to ripen this affair, and to teach Mitliridates what lie may not know, who are the confederates he is to seek against us; or to drive him, against his inclina- tion and his notions of honor, into the arms of Tigranes? Is it not better to give him time to make preparations and regain strength in his own. territories, that we may have to meet the Col- chians, the Tibarenians and Cappadocians, whom we have often beaten, rather than the unknown forces of the Medes and the Armenians? " Agreeably to these sentiments, Lucullus spent a great deal of time before Amisus, proceeding very slowly in the siege. After the winter was passed, he left that charge to Murena, and inarched against Mitliridates, who was encamped on the plains of the Cabin, with a resolution to wait for the Romans there. His army consisted of forty thousand foot and four thousand horse, which he had lately collected; and in these he placed the greatest confidence. Nay, he passed the river Lycus, and gave the Romans the challenge to meet him in the field. In consequence of this, the cavalry engaged, and the Romans were put to the rout. Pumponius, a man of some dignity, was wounded and taken. Though much indis- posed with his wounds, he was brought before Mithridates, who asked him, " Whether, if he saved his life, he would become his friend?" " On condition you will be reconciled to the Ro- mans." said he, " I will; but if not 1 must remain your enemy." The king, struck with admiration of his patriotism, did him no injury. Lucullus was apprehensive of farther danger on the plain, on account of the enemy's superi- ority in horso, and yet he was loth to take to the mountains, which were at a considerable distance, as well as woody, and difficult of ascent. While he was in this perplexity, some Greeks happened to be taken, who had hid themselves in a cave. Artemidorus, the eldest of them, undertook to conduct him to a post where he might encamp in the utmost security, and where there stood a cas- fle which commanded the plain of the Cabiri. Lucullus gave credit to his report, and began his march iu the night, after lie had caused a number of fires to be lighted in his old camp. Having got safely througu the narrow passes, he gained the hights, and in the morning appeared above the enemy's heads, iu a situation where lie might fight with advantage, when he chose it, and might not be compelled to it, if he had a mind to sit Btill. At present neither Lucullus nor Mitliridates was inclinad to risk a battle: but some of the king's soldiers happening to pursue a deer, a party of Romans went out to intercept them. This brought on a sharp skirmish, numbers continually coming up on each side. At length the king's troops had the advantage. The Romans beholding from the camp the flight of their fellow-soldiers, were greatly disturbed, and ran to Lucullus to entreat him to lead them out; and give the signal for battle. But he, willing to show them of how much importance, in all dan- gerous conflicts, the presence of an able general is, ordered them to stand still; and descending into the plain himself, seized the foremost of the fugitives, and commanded them to face about. They obeyed, and the rest rallying with them, they easily put the enemy to flight, and pursued them to their intrenchments. Lucullus, at his return, inflicted on the fugitives the usual punish- ment. He made them strip to their vests, take off their girdles, and then dig u trench twelve feet long; the rest of the troops all the while standing and looking on. In the army of Mitliridates there was a Dar- darian grandee named Olthacus. The Dardariana are some of those barbarous people who live near the lake Mseotis. Olthacus was a man fit for every warlike attempt that required strength ana courage, and in counsel and contrivance inferior to none. Beside these accomplishments, he was affable, easy, and agreeable in the commerce of the world. He was always involved in some dis- pute, or jealousy at least, of the other great men of his country, who, like him, aimed at the ciii^f authority in it: and to bring Mithridates into his interest, he undertook the daring enterprise of killing Lucullus. Mithridates commended his design, and publicly gave him some affronts, to afford him a pretense for resentment. Olthacus laid hold on it, and rode off to Lucullus, who re- ceived him with pleasure. For his reputation was well known in the camp; and, upon trial, the Roman general found his presence of mind and his address so extraordinary, that he took him to his table and his council-board. When the Dardarian thought he had found his opportunity, he ordered his servants to have his horse ready without the camp. It was now mid- day, and the soldiers were sitting in the sun or otherwise reposing themselves, when he went to the general's pavilion; expecting that none would pretend to hinder the admission of a man wLo was intimate with Lucullus, and who said he had business of importance to communicate. And he had certainly entered, if sleep, which has been the ruin of many other generals,, had not saved Lucullus. Menedemus, one of his chamberlains, was then in waiting, and he told Olthacus, " This was not a proper time to see Lucullus, because after long watching and fatigue, he was now tak- ing some rest." Olthacusdid not take this denial; but said, " I must enter, whether you will or not, for I have great and necessary business to lay be- fore him." Menedemus, incensed at his insolence, answered, "Nothing is more necessary than the preservation of Lucullus," and thrust him back with both hands. Olthacus fearing his design was discovered, withdrew privately from the camp, took horse, and returned to Mithridates without effect- ing anything. Thus the crisis, in other matters, as well as in medicine, either saves or destroys. Alter this, Sornatius was sent out with ten co- horts to escort a convoy. Mithridates detached against him one of his officers named Menander.. An engagement ensued, and the barbarians were routed with great loss. Another time, Lucullus dispatched Adrian with a considerable corps, to protect the party employed in collecting provi- sions and supplying his camp. Mithridates did not let him pass unnoticed, but sent Meneniachus and Myron against them with a strong body of cavalry and another of infantry. All these com- batants, except two, the Romans put to the sword. Mitliridates dissembled his loss, pretending it was small, and entirely owing to the misconduct of the commanding officers. But when Adrian passed by his camp in great pomp, with many wagons loaded with provisions and rich spoils in his train, the king's spirits began to droop, and the most distressing terror fell upon his army. They de- termined, therefore, to quit that post. The nobility about the king began to send off their baggage with all the privacy they could, but would not suffer others to do the same. The sol- diers finding themselves jostled and thrust back iu the gateways, were so much provoked at that treatment, that they turned upon them, fell to 334 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. plundering the baggage, and killed several of them. Dorylaus, one of the generals, lost his life for nothing but a purple robe which he had on. Hermans, a priest, was trodden under foot at the gate. Mithridates liimself, without any attendant or groom to assist him, got out of the camp amidst the crowd. Of all h royal stud there was not one horse left him; but at last Ptolemy the eunuch, seeing him carried along with the torrent, and happening to be on horseback, dismounted, and gave him his. The Romans pressed hard upon him, and indeed came up time enough to have taken him. He was in fact almost in their hands; but their avarice saved him. The prey, which had been pursued through numberless conflicts and dangers, escaped, and the victorious Lucullus was robbed of the reward of his toils. The horse which the king rode was almost overtaken, when a rnule loaded with gold, came between him and his pursuers, either by accident, or by the king's contrivance. The soldiers immediately began to rifle the load, and came to blows about the con- tents; which gave Mithridates time to get off. Nor was this the only disadvantage Lucullus ex- perienced from their avarice. Callistratus, the king's secretary, was taken, and the Roman gen- eral had ordered him to be brought before him; but those who had the charge of it, perceiving he had five hundred crowns in his girdle, dispatched him for the money. Yet to such men as these he gave up the plunder of the enemy's camp. After this, he took Cabiri, and many other places of strength, in which he found much trea- sure. He likewise found iu their prisons many Greeks, and several of the king's own relations, confined; and, as they had long thought themselves in the most desperate circumstances, the liberty which they gained by the favor of Lucullus, ap- peared to them not so much a deliverance, as a resurrection and new life. One of the king's sisters, named Nyssa, very happily for her, was of the number. The other sisters and wives of Mithridates, who seemed placed more remote from danger, and at a distance from war, all perished miserably: he sent the eunuch Bacchides to Pher- nacia, with orders to see them put to death. Among the rest were two of his sisters, Roxana and Statira, who were about the age of forty, and still virgins; and two of his wives, both lonians, Bernice of Chios, and Monime of Miletus. The latter was much celebrated among the Greeks. Though the king had tried every expedient to bring her to listen to a lawless passion, and made her a present of fifteen thousand crowns at one time, she rejected all his solicitations until he agreed to marriage, sent her a diadem, and declared her queen. Before the last sad message, she had passed her time very unhappily, and looked with grief and indignation on that beauty, which, in- stead of a husband, had procured her an imperious master, and, instead of the domestic comforts of marriage, a guard of barbarians. Banished far from Greece, she had lost the real blessings of life, and where she hoped for happiness, found nothing but a drearn. When Bacchides came and informed those prin- cesses they must die, but that they were at liberty to cboose the death most easy and agreeable to them, Monime snatched the diadem from her head and applied it to her neck, that it might do the fatal office. But it broke, and the princess said, " O cursed band ! wouldst thou not at least serve use on this occasion?" Then spitting upon it, he threw it from her, and stretched out her neck Co Bacchides. Bernice took poison, and as her mother, who was present, begged a share of it, she granted hei request. They both drank of it ; and its forc operated sufficiently upon the weaker body: but Bernice, not having taken a proper quantity, was long a-dying. Bacchides, therefore, strangled her. Roxana, one of the unmarried sisters, after having vented the most bitter imprecations and reproaches against Mithridates, took poison. Sta- tira, however, died without one unkind or unge- nerous word. She rather commended her brother, when he must have his anxieties about his own life, for not forgetting them, but providing that they might die free and undisbonored. These events were very disagreeable to the native good- ness and humanity of Lucullus. He continued his pursuit of Mithridates as far as Talaura; where, having learned that he was fled four days before into Armenia, to Tigranes, he turned back again. He subdued, however, the Chaldaaans and Tibarenians, and reduced the less Armenia, with the towns and castles. Then he sent Appius to Tigranea, to demand Mithridates; and in the meantime returned to Amisus, which his troops were still besieging. The length of the siege was owing to Callimachus, who commanded in the town, and was an able engineer, skilled in every art of attack and defense. By this he gave the Romans much trouble, for which he suffered afterward. Lucullus availed himself of a strata- gem, against which he had not guarded. He made a sudden assault at the time when Callima- chus used to draw off his men for refreshment. Thus he made himself master of some part of the wall; upon which, Callimachus either envying the Romans the plunder of the place, or with a view to facilitate his own escape, set fire to the town, and quitted it. For no one paid any attention to those who fled by sea. The flames spread with great rapidity around the walls, and the soldiers prepared themselves to pillage the houses. Lucul- lus, in commiseration of a fine city thus sinking into ruin, endeavored to assist it from without, and ordered his troops to extinguish the fire. Bui they paid no regard to him, they went on collect- ing the spoils and clashing their arms, until he was forced to give up the plunder to them, ia hopes of saving the city from the flames. It hap- pened, however, quite otherwise. In rummaging every corner, with torches in their hands, they set fire to many of the houses themselves. So thai when Lucullus entered the town next morning, he said to his friends, with tears in his eyes, "I have often admired the good fortune of Sylla, but never so much as I do this day. He desired to save Athens, and succeeded. I wished to imitate him on this occasion; but, instead of that, the gods have classed me with Mummius.''* Nevertheless, he endeavored to restore the place, as far as its unhappy circumstances would permit. A shower, which, providentially, fell about the time it was taken, extinguished the fire, and saved many of the buildings; and, during his stay, he rebuilt most of those that were de- stroyed. Such of the inhabitants as had fled, he received with pleasure, and added to them a draught of other Greeks who were willing to settle there. At the same time, he gave them a terri- tory of a hundred and twenty furlongs. The city was a colony of Athenians, planted here at a time when their power was at the bight; and they were masters of the sea. Hence it was, that those who fled from the tyranny of Aristiou, retired to Amisus, and were admitted to the pri- vilege of citizens; fortunately enough gaining The destroyer <>f ( ' ninth. LU CULLUS. 335 abroad what they lost at home. The remainder of them Lucullus now clothed in an honorable manner, gave each two hundred drachmas, and sent them back into their own country. Tyrau- nio, the grammarian, was of the number. Murernt begged him of Lucullus, and afterward enfran- chised him; in which he acted ungenerously by his superior officers present. Lucullus would not have been willing that a man so honored for his learning, should be first considered as a slave, and then set free. The real liberty he was born to must be taken away before he could have this, seeming freedom. But this was not the only in- stance in which Murena acted with less generosity than became an officer of his rank. Lucullus then turned toward the cities of Asia, that he might bestow the time which was not em- ployed in war, on the promotion of law and jus- tice. These had long lost their influence in that province, which was overwhelmed with unspeak- able misfortunes. It was desolated and enslaved by the farmers of the revenue, and by usurers. The poor inhabitants were forced to sell the most beautiful of their sons and daughters, the orna- ments and offerings in their temples, their paint- ings, and the statues of their gods. The last re- source was, to serve their creditors as slaves. Their sufferings, prior to this, were more cruel and in- supportable; prisons, racks, tortures, exposures to the burning sun in summer, and in winter to the extremity of cold, amidst ice or mire; insomuch, that servitude seemed a happy deliverance and a scene of peace. Lucullus rinding the cities in such dreadful distress, soon rescued the oppressed from all their burdens. In the first place, he ordered the creditors not to take above one in the hundred fora month's in- terest:* in the next place, he abolished all interest that exceeded the principal: the third and most important regulation was, that the creditor should not take above a fourth part of the debtor's in- come. And if any one took interest upon interest, he was to lose all. By these means, in less than four years, all the debts were paid, and the estates restored free to the proprietors. The public fine which Sylla had laid upon Asia, was twenty thou- sand talents. It had been paid twice; and yet the merciless collectors, by usury upon usury, now brought it to a hundred and twenty thousand talents. These men, pretending they had been unjustly treated, raised * clamor in Rome, against Lucul- lus, and hired a number of popular orators to speak against him. They had, indeed, a consider- able interest; because many persons who had a share in the administration, were their debtors. Lucullus, on thi other han-1, was beloved, not only by the nations which h:\d experienced his good offices; the hearts of the other provinces were his, and they longed for a governor who had made uch numbers happy. Appius Clodius, who was sent ambassador to Tigranes by Lucullus, and who was his wife's rc-fter, at first fell into the hands of guides that Were subjects to Mithridates. These men made im take an unnecessary circuit of many days' journey in the. upper countries; but at last an enfranchised servant of his, a Syrian by nation, discovered to him the imposition, and showed him the right road. He then bade adieu to his barba- rian guides, and in a few days passed the Euphra- tes, and reached Antioch of Daphne. f * This was the legal interest among the Romans. Whence wa may learn the eoui,KiiAtive scarcity of money in those tiit es. t Among several ciue of that name, this vrai the prn There he had orders to wait for Tigranes, who was then employed in reducing some cities of Phcenicia; and he found means to bring over to the Roman interest many princes who submitted to the Armenians out of pure necessity. Among these was Zarbienus, king of Gordyene. A num- ber of the cities, too, which Tigranes had con- quered, privately sent deputies to Clodius; and he promised them all the succor Lucullus could give him, but desired they would make no immediate resistance. The Armenian government was, in- deed, an insupportable burden to the Greeks; par- ticularly, the king's pride, through a long course of prosperity, was become so enormous, that he thought whatever is great and admirable in the eyes of the world, was not only in his power, but even made for him. For though hi prospects at first were small and contemptible, he had subdued many nations, and humbled the Parthian power more than any prince before him. He had colo- nized Mesopotamia with Greeks, whom he draughted in great numbers out of Cilicia and Cappadocia. He had drawn the scertite* Arabians from their wandering way of life, and placed them nearer to Armenia, that he might avail himself of their mercantile abilities. He had many kings at his court in the capacity of servants, and four in particular as mace-bearers, or footmen, who, whenever he rode on horseback, ran before him in short jerkins; and, when he sat to give audience, stood by with their hands clasped together; which last circumstance seems a mark of the lowest slavery, a token that they had not only resigned their liberty, but that they were prepared rather to suffer than to act. Appius, not in the least disconcerted at all this pomp, plainly set forth his commission, at his first audience, " That he was come to demand Mithri- dates, whom Lucullus claimed for his triumph; otherwise, he must declare war against Tigranes." Whatever efforts the prince made to receive the message with an easy countenance and a kind smile, it was visible to all that he was affected with the young man's bold address. This was, indeed, the first free speech that he had heard for five-and- twenty years; for so long he had been a king, or rather a tyrant. However, the answer he gave Appius was, " That he would not deliver up Mith- ridates ; and if the Romans began the war, he was able to defend himself." He was displeased with Lucullus for giving him, in his letter, barely the title of king, and not that of king of kings; and, therefore, in his answer, he would not address him as Imperator. This did not hinder him from sending magnificent presents to Appius; and, when he found he did not accept them, he sent more. At last, Appius, that he might not seem to reject them out of any particular pique, took a cup, and sent back all the rest. Then he returned with the utmost expedition to his general. Before this, Tigranes had not deigned to admit .Mithridates into his presence, nor to speak to a prince who was so nearly allied to him, and who had lately lost so great a kingdom. He had sent him in a contemptuous manner to remote marshes and a sickly air, where he was kept like a priso- ner. But now he called him to court with great marks of honor and regard. In a private confe- rence they exculpated themselves at the expense cipal. It was called, however, by way of distinction, the Antioch of Daphne. Daphne was a beautiful village, about forty furbdga from it, consecrated to the nymph of that name, and adorned with groves of a large extent, sev eral of them probably of laurel; in the midst of which stooj the temple of Apollo and Diana. The grove and tempi* were a sanctuary. * Probably so called from their living in tenU. 336 PLUTARCH'S LIVES of their friends. Metrodorus the Scepsian was of the number; an able speaker, and a man of exten- sive erudition, who had been in such high favor, that he was styled the king's fattier. It seems, when he went ambassador from M ithridates to the Armenian court, to beg assistance against the Romans, Tigranes said, " What would you, Me- trodorus, advise me to in this case?" Whether it was that he had the interest of Tigranes in view, or whether he wanted to see Mithridates absolutely ruined, he answered, "As an ambassador, I should exhort you to it, hut, as your counselor I should advise you against it." Tigranes discovered this to Mitliridates, not imagining he would resent it in the manner he did. The unfortunate prince immediately put Metrodorus to death; and Tigra- nes greatly repented the step he had taken, though he was, not absolutely the cause of that minister's death, but only added stings to the hatred Mithri- dates had long entertained for him. This ap- peared when his private memorandums were taken, in which Metrodorus was found among those marked out for the ax. Tigranes buried him honorably, and spared no expense in his fune- ral, though he had been th6 cause of his death. Amphicrates, the orator, likewise died at that court, if we may be allowed to record his name for the sake of Athens. He is said to have been banished his country, and to have retired to Seleu- cia upon the Tigris, where the inhabitants desired him to open a school of rhetoric; but he answer- ed in the most contemptuous manner, and with all the vanity of a sophist, " That a plate could not contain a dolphin." From thence he went to the court of Cleopatra, the daughter of Mithri- dates, and wife of Tigranes, where he soon made himself so obnoxious, that he was forbidden all intercourse with the Greeks; upon which he starved himself to death. Cleopatra bestowed upon him too a magnificent funeral, and his tomb is near a place called Sapha. Lucullus, having established peace and good laws in Asia, did not neglect whit might be con- ducive to elegance and pleasure; but, during his stay at Ephesus, entertained the Grecian cities with shows, triumphal feasts, and trials of skill between wrestlers and gladiators. The cities, in return, instituted a feast to his honor, which they called Lucullia; and the real affection that inspir- ed them with the thought was more agreeable than the honor itself. When Appius was returned, and had acquainted him that it was necessary to go to war with Ti- granes, he went back to Pontus, and put himself at the head of his troops. His first operation was to lay siege to Sinope, or rather to a corps of Ci- liciaus who had thrown themselves into the town on the part of Mithridates. These, upon the ap- proach of Lucullus, put a great number of the in- habitants to the sword, and after setting fire to the place, endeavored to escape in the night. But Lucullus discovering their intention, entering the town, and having killed eight thousand of them who were left behind, restored their effects to the old inhabitants, and exerted himself greatly in saving the city from 'the flames. His particular inducement was the following dream. He dream- ed that a person stood by him, and said, "Go for- ward, Lucullus; for Autolycus is coming to meet you." When he awaked, he could form no con- jecture about the signification of the dream. However, he took the city the same day, and in pursuing the Cilicians^to their ships, he saw a Ftatue lying on the shore, which they had not been able to get on board. The work was one of the masterpieces of Sthenis; and he was told that t was the statue of Autolycus, the founder *f Sinope. This Autolycus is said to have been the son of Deimachus, and one of those Thessaliaua who assisted Hercules in the war against the Am- azons.* In his voyage back along with Dernoleoa and Phlogis his ship struck on a rock of the Cher- sonesus, called Pedalion, and he lost it. He and his friends, however, saved their lives and their arms, and went to Sinope, which they took from the Syrians. The Syrians, who then held it, we are told, were so called, because they were the de- scendants of Syrus the son of Apollo and Sinope the daughter of Asopus. When Lucullus heard this, he recollected the observation of Sylla io his Commentaries, " That nothing more deserves our belief and attention than what is signified to us in dreams." After news was brought that Mithridates and Tigranes were on the point of entering Lycaonia and Cilicia with all their forces, in order to seize Asia before him, he could not help thinking it strange that the Armenian did not make use of Mithridates when in his glory, ndr join the ar- mies of Pontus while Ihey were in their full strength; but suffered them to be broken and de- stroyed; and now at last with cold hopes of suc- cess began the war, or rather threw himself down headlong with those who could stand no longer. Amidst these transactions, Machares, the son of Mithridates, who was master of the Bospho- rus, sent Lucullus a coronet of gold of a thou- sand crowns' value, and begged to be numbered among the friends and allies of Rome. Lucul- lus, now concluding that the first war was finish- ed, left Sonatius with a corps of six thousand men, to settle the affairs of that province; and with twelve thousand foot and less than three thousand horse, marched to meet another war. It seemed amazing temerity to go with a handful of men against so many warlike nations, so many myriads of cavalry, and such a vast coun- try, intersected with deep rivers, and barricaded with mountains forever covered with snow. Of course his soldiers, who were not otherwise under the best discipline, now followed with great re- luctance, and were ready to mutiny. On the other hand, the popular orators clamored against him in Rome, representing that he levied war a/ter war; not that the public utility required it, but that he might always keep the command, and con- tinue in arms, and that he might accumulate riches at the risk of the commonwealth. These, at last succeeded 'in their design, which was to recall Lucullus. At present he reached the Euphrates by long marches. He found it swollen and overflowing by reason of the late rains, and was apprehensive he should find much delay and difficulty in collecting boats and making a bridge of them. But in the evening the flood began to subside, and lessened in such a manner in the night, that next morning the river appeared much within the channel.- - The people of the country seeing little islands in its bed, which had seldom been visible, and the stream breaking gently about them, considered Lucullus as something more than mortal. For they saw the great river put on a mild and oblig- ing air to him, and afford him a quick and easy passage. He availed himself of the opportunity, and pass- ed it with his army. An auspicious omen ap- * Strabo tells us, Atitolycns was one of the Ar^onnt, who. after his voypge to Colchis, settled at Sinope. and had divine honors paid him after his death. Strab. 1. xi. LUCULLUS. peared Immediately after. A number of heifers, sacred to the Persian Diana, the goddess whom the inhabitants of those parts particularly wor- ship, pastured on the other side. These heifers are used only in the way of sacrifice; at other times they range at large, marked with the figure of a torch, us a token of their designation: and it was difficult to take them when they were want- ed. But now the army had no sooner crossed the river, than one of them went and stood by a rock which is deemed sacred to the goddess, and hang- ing down her head in the manner of those that are bound, offered herself to Lucullus as a victim. He sacrificed also a bull to the Euphrates, on ac- count of his safe passage. He stayed there that whole day to refresh his army. The next day he inarched through So- phene, without doing the least injury to those who submitted and received his troops in a proper manner. Nay, 'when his men wanted to stop and take a fort that was supposed to be full of treas- ure, he pointed to mount Taurus which appeared at a distance, and said, " Yonder is the fort you are to take; as for these things, they will of course belong to the conqueror." Then, push- ing his* march, he crossed the Tigris, and entered Armenia. As Tigranes ordered the first man who brought him an account of the enemy's arrival, to lose his head for his reward, no one afterward presumed to mention it. He remained in ignorance, though the hostile fire already touched him; and with pleasure heard his flatterers say, "Lucullus would be a great general, if he waited for Tigranes at Ephesus, and did not quit Asia at the sight of his vast armies." Thus it is not every man that can bear much wine, nor can an ordinary mind bear great prosperity without staggering. The first of his friends who ventured to tell him the truth, was Mithrobarzanes; and he was but ill rewarded for the liberty he had taken. He was sent against Lucullus with three thousand horse and a more respectable body of foot, with orders to take the Roman general alive, but to tread the rest under his feet. Part of the Roman forces were pitching their tents, and the rest were upon the march when their scouts brought intelligence that the barbari- ans were at hand. He had therefore his appre- hensions, that if they attacked him before his troops were all assembled and formed, they might be put in disorder. The measure he took was to stay and intrench himself: meantime he sent his lieutenant Sextilius with sixteen hundred horse, and not many more infantry, including both the light and the heavy-armed, with orders when he approached the enemy to stop and amuse them, until he should be informed that the intrench- nients were finished. Sextilius was willing to obey his orders, but Mithrobarzanes came upon him so boldly, that he was forced to fight. Mithrobarzanes behaved with great bravery, but fell in the action. Then his troops took to flight, and were most of them cut in pieces. After this, Tigranes left Tigranocerta, the {Treat city which he had built, and retired to mount Taurus, where he intended to collect all his forces. But Lucullus not giving him much time for preparation, sent Murena to harass and cut off the parties on one side, as fast as they came up; on the other side, Sextilius advanced against large corps of Arabians, which was going to Join the king. Sextilius came upon the Arabi- ans as they were encamping, and killed the great- est part of them. Murena, following the steps of Tigranes, took his opportunity to attack him, an he was leading a great army along a rugged and narrow defile. The king himself fled, abandon- ing all his baggage. Many of the Armenian* were put to the sword, aid greater numbers made prisoners. Lucullus, after this success, marched against Tigranocerta, and invested it with his army. There were in that city many Greeks who ha<l been transplanted out of Cilicia, and many bar- barians whose fortunes had been no better than that of the Greeks, Adiabenians, Assyrians, Gor- dyenians, and Cappadocians, whose cities Ti- granes had demolished, and then removed the in- habitants, and compelled them to settle in that he had built. The place was full of treasure and rich ornaments; every private person a well as grandee, to make their court to the king, striving which should contribute most to its embellish- ment. For this reason Lucullus carried on the siege with great vigor, in the opinion that Ti- granes would, contrary to his better judgment, be provoked to give him battle. And he was not mistaken. Mithridates, by messengers and let- ters, dissuaded the king much from hazarding a battle, and advised him to cut off the Roman con- voys with his cavalry. Taxiles too, who came on the part of Mithridates to co-operate with Ti- granes, entreated him to avoid meeting the Roman arms, which he assured him were invin- cible. At first the king heard him with patience. But when the Armenians and Gordyenians arriv- ed with all their forces; when the kings of the Medes and Adiabenians had brought in their armies; when numbers of Arabians came from tht; coasts of the Babylonian sea,* Albanians from the Caspian, and Iberians from the neighborhood of the Albanians; beside a considerable body gained by presents and persuasion, from those na- tions about the Araxes that live without regal government; then nothing was expressed at the king's table or council-board, but sanguine hopes and barbarian menaces. Taxiles was in danger of his life for attempting to oppose the resolution to give battle, and Mithridates himself was accus- ed of envying the glorious success that would at- tend his son-in-law. Tigranes, therefore, would not wait for him, lest he should share with him the honor of the victory; but advanced immediately with all his forces; and is said to have expressed to his friends some uneasiness, "That he should have to do only with Lucullus, and not try his strength at once with all the generals of Rome." Indeed, these boasts of the king do not appear entirely frantic and destitute of reason, while he was surveying so many nations and princes under his standard, such astonishing numbers of heavy-armed in- fantry, and so many myriads of cavalry. He had twenty thousand archers and slingers, and fifty- five thousand horse, of which seventeen thousand were clad in steel, according to the account Lucul- lus sent to the senate. His infantry, divided into companies and battalions, consisted of a hundred and fifty thousand men; and there were thirty-five thousand pioneers and other laborers to make good the roads, to prepare bridges, to cleanse the course of rivers, to provide wood, and to answer all the occasions of the army. These were drawn up behind, to give it a greater appearance of strength and numbers. When he had passed mount Taurus and spread his troops upon the plain*'he could see the Roman The Fenian Gulf. 338 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. army besieging Tigranocerta. The mixed multi- tude of barbarians in the city, likewise saw him, and in a menacing manner pointed to their king's armies from the walls. Luciillus, before the battle, held a council of war. Some advised him to quit the siege, and meet Tigranes with all his forces; others were of opinion, that he should continue the siege, and not leave so many enemies behind him. He told them that neither, separately, gave good counsel, but botli together did. He therefore divided his forces, and left Murena before the place with six thousand men; while he, with the rest of his in- fantry, consisting of twenty-four cohorts, which contained not more than ten thousand combatants, with all his cavalry, and about a thousand sling- ers and archers, marched against Tigranes. He encamped on a large plain with a river be- fore him; where his army appearing no more than a handful, afforded much matter of mirth to the flatterers of the king. Some ridiculed the diminu- tive appearance; others, by way of jest, cast lots for the spoil. And there was not one of the generals and princes, who did not come and de- sire to be employed alone upon that service, while Tigranes needed only to sit still and look on. The king, too, thinking he must show himself facetious on the occasion, made use of that cele- brated expression, " That if they came as ambas- sadors, there were too many of them; if as soldiers, too few." Thus they passed the first day in raillery. Next morning at break of day Lucullus drew out his arrny. The camp of the barbarians was on the east side of the river. But the river, where it is most fordable, makes a bend to the west. As Lucullus marched hastily down to that quarter, Tigranes thought he was retreating. Upon this, lie called to Taxiles, and said with a scornful smile, " Seest thou not these invincible Roman legions taking to flight?" Taxiles answered, " I wish from my soul, my lord, that your good genius may work a miracle in your favor; but these legions do not use their best accouterments in a mere march. They do not wear their polish- ed shields, nor take their bright helmets out of their cases, as you see they have now done. All this splendid appearance indicates their intention to fight, and to advance against their enemies as fast as possible." While Taxiles was yet speaking, they saw the eagle of the foremost legion make a motion to the right by order of Lucullus, and the cohorts pro- ceed in good order to pass the river. Then Tigranes with much difficulty awaked from his intoxication, and exclaimed two or three times, " Are these men corning against us?" After this, he drew out his forces in a hasty and disorderly manner; taking himself the command of the main body, and giving the left wing to the king of the Adiabenians, and the right to the king of the Medes. Before this right wing were placed most of the cavalry that were armed in steel. As Lucullus was going to pass the river, some of his officers admonished him to beware of that day, which had been an inauspicious, or, (as they called it) a black one to the Romans. For on that day Coepio's army was defeated by the Cim- bri. Lucullus returned that memorable answer, "I will make this day an auspicious one for Rome." It was the sixth of October. Having thus spoken, and withal exhorted his men to exert themselves, he advanced at the head of them, against the enemy. He was armed with a breastplate of steel formed in scales, which cast a surprising luster; and the robe lie wore over it was adorned with fringe. He drew his sword Im- mediately, to show his troops the necessity of corning hand to hand, with an enemy who were accustomed to fight at a distance; and by the vigot of their charge not to leave them room to exercise their missive weapons. Observing that the ene- my's heavy-armed cavalry, upon which they placed their chief dependence, was covered by a hill that was plain and even at the top, and which, with an extent of only four furlongs, was not very difficult to ascend, he dispatched his Thracian and Gaulish horse, with ordeVs to take them in flank, and to strike at nothing but the shafts of their pikes. Their whole strength, indeed, consists in the pike, and they have no other weapon, either offensive or defensive, that they can use, by rea- son of their heavy and unwieldy armor, in which they are, as it were, immured. Meanwhile he began to climb the hill with two companies of infantry, and the Bdldiera followed him with great readiness, when they saw him, encumbered as he was with his armor, the first to labor on foot up the ascent. When he had reach- ed the summit, he stood on the most conspicuous part of it, and cried out, " The victory is ours, my fellow-soldiers, the victory is ours!" At tho same time he advanced against the heavy-armed cavalry, and ordered his men not to make any lije of their javelins, but to come to close action, and to aim their blows at their enemies' legs and thighs, in which parts alone they were not armed. There was no need, however, to put this in exe- cution; for, instead of standing to receive the Romans, they set up a cry of fear, and most des- picably fled without striking a stroke. In their flight, they and their horses, heavy with armor, ran back upon their own infantry, and put them in confusion: insomuch that all those myriads were routed, without standing to receive one wound, or spilling one drop of blood. Multi- tudes, however, were slain in their flight, or rather in their attempt to fly; their ranks being so thick and deep, that they entangled and impeded each other. Tigranes rode off one of the first, with a few attendants; and seeing his son taking his share in his misfortune, he took the diadem from his head, gave it him with tears, and desired him to save himself in the best manner he could by taking some other road. The young prince did not ven- ture to wear it, but put it in the hands of one of his most faithful servants, who happened after- ward to be taken and brought to Lucullus: by this means the royal diadem of Tigranes added to the honors of the spoil. It is said that of the foot there fell above a hundred thousand, and of the horse very few escaped; whereas the Romans had but fi /e killed, and a hundred wounded. Antio- chus the philosopher,* in his treatise concerning the Gods, speaking of this action says, the sun never beheld such another. Strabo,f another phi- losopher, in his historical Commentaries, informs us that the Romans were ashamed, and ridiculed each other, for having employed weapons against such vile slaves. And Livy tells us, the Romans, with such inferior numbers, never engaged such a multitude as this. The victors did not, indeed, make up the twentieth part of the vanquished. The most able and experienced commanders among the Romans paid the highest compliments to the generalship of Lucutlus; principally because ho had defeated two of the greatest and most powerful kings in the world, by methods entirely different: * Antiochns of Escalon. Cicero was his disciple, t Strabo, the geographer and historian, was also rt philo- sopher of the Stoic ibrm. LUCULLUS. the one by an expeditious and the other by a slow process. He ruined Mitliridates, when in the night of his power, hy protracting the war, and Tigranes by the celerity of his movements. In- deed, among all the generals in the world, there have been very few instances of any one's avail- ing himself of delay for execution, or of expedi- tion for security. Hence it was, that Mithridates made no haste to come to action, or to join Tigranes; imagining that Lucullus would proceed witli his usual cau- tion and slowness. But as soon as he met a few Armenians on the road, with the greatest marks of consternation upon them, he formed some con- jecture of what had happened; and when many more came up naked and wounded, he was too well assured of the loss, and inquired for Tigranes. Though he found him in the most destitute and deplorable condition, he did not offer .him the least insult Instead of that, he dismounted, and bewailed with him *their common misfortunes: gave him his own royal equipage, and held up to him a prospect of better success. They began to levy other forces. In Tigranocerta.the Greeks had mutinied against the barbarians, and wanted to deliver up the city to Lucullus. Accordingly he gave the assault, and took it. After he had secured the royal trea- sures, he gave up the plunder of the town to his soldiers, and they found there, beside other rich booty, eight thousand talents in coined money. Lucullus added eight hundred drachmas to each man's share. Being informed that there were found in the town a number of such artists as are requisite in theatrical exhibitions, whom Tigranes had collect- ed from all parts, for opening the theater he had built, he made use of them in the games and other oublic diversions in honor of his victory. He seat back the Greeks to their own coun- tries, and furnished them with necessaries for that purpose. He likewise permitted the barbarians who had been compelled to settle there, to return to their respective abodes. Thus it happened that. by the dispersion of the people of one city, many cities recovered their former inhabitants. For which reason Lucullus was reverenced by them as a patron and founder. He succeeded also in his other undertakings agreeably to his merit; being more desirous of the praise of justice and humanity, than of that which arises from military achievements. For in those the army claims no small part, and fortune a greater; whereas the other are proofs of a gentle disposition and sub- dued mind, and by them Lucullus brought the barbarians to submit without the sword. The kings of the Arabs came over to him, and put their possessions in his power; the whole nation of Sophane followed their example; and the Gor- dyenians were so well inclined to serve him, that they were willing to quit their habitations and follow him with their wives and children. The cause was this. Zarbienus, king of Gordyene, unable, as has been said, to support the tyranny of Tigranes, applied privately through Appius to Lucullus, and desired to be admitted as an ally. This ap- plication being discovered, he was put to death With his wife and children, before the Romans entered Armenia. Lucullus, however, did not forget it, but, as he passed through Gordyene, took care that Zarbienus should have a magni- ficent funeral, and adorned the pile with gold stuffs and royal vestments found among the spoils of Tigranes. The Roman general himself set fire to it, and, together with the friends and relations of the deceased, offered the accustomed libations; declaring him his friend, and an ally to the Ro- man people. He caused a monument to be erect- ed to his memory at a considerable expense; for there wa. found in the treasury of that prince a great quantity of gold and silver; there were found also in his storehouses three millions of medimni of wheat. This was a sufficient provision for his soldiers ; and Luculius was much admired for niaking the war maintain itself, and carrying it on without taking one drachma out of the public treasury. About this time there came an embassy from the king of Parthia to solicit his friendship and alliance. Lucullus received the proposal with, pleasure, and sent ambassadors in his turn; who, when they were at that prince's court, discovered that he was unresolved what part to act, and that he was privately treating with Tigranes for Meso- potamia as a reward for the succors with which he should furnish him. As soon as Lucullus was sensible of this, he determined to let Tigranes and Mithridates alone, as adversaries already tired out, and to try his strength with the Parthian, by en- tering his territories. He thought it would be glorious, if in one expedition, during the tide of good fortune, like an able wrestler he would throw three princes successively, and traverse the domin- ions of three of the most powerful kings under the sun, perpetually victorious. For this reason he sent orders to Sornatius and his other officers in Pontus, to bring their forcea to him, as he intended to begin his march for Parthia, from Gordyene. These officers had al- ready found their soldiers refractory and obstinate, but now they saw them absolutely mutinous, and not to be wrought upon by any method of persua- sion or of force. On the contrary, they loudly declared they would not even stay there, but would go and leave Pontus itself unguarded. When an account of this behavior was brought to Lucullus, it corrupted the troops he had with him: and they were very ready to receive these impres- sions, loaded as they were with wealth, enerva- ted with luxury, and panting after repose. Upon hearing, therefore, of the bold terms in which tho others had expressed themselves, they said they acted like men, and set an example worthy of imi- tation: "And surely," continued they, "our ser- vices entitle us to a discharge, that we may return to our own country, and enjoy ourselves in secu- rity and quiet." These speeches, and worse than these, coming- to the ears of Lucullus, he gave up all thoughts of his Parthian expedition, and marched once more against Tigranes. It was now the hight of summer, and yet when he had gained the summit of mount Taurus, he saw with regret the corn only green; so backward are the seasons in those parts, by reason of the cold that prevails there.* He descended, however, into the plain, and beat the Armenians who ventured to face him, in two or three skirmishes. Then he plundered the vil- lages at pleasure, and, by taking the convoys de- signed for Tigranes. brought that want upon the enemy, which he had dreaded himself. He omitted no measure which might bring them to a decisive battle; he drew a line of circumvai- lation about their camp; he laid waste their coun- try before their eyes; but they had been too often defeated to think of risking an engagement. Ho therefore marched against Artaxata,the capital of Tigranes, where he had left his wives and children - * Thii particular is confirmed by modern traveler*. tell us die snow lies there until August. 340 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. concluding he would not suffer it to be taken, without attempting its relief. It is said that Hannibal, the Carthaginian, after Antioohus was subdued by the Romans, addressed himself to Artaxas, king of Armenia. While he was at that prince's court, beside instructing him in other important matters, he pointed out to him a place which, though it then lay neglected, afford- ed the happiest situation imaginable for a city. He gave him the plan of one, and exhorted him to put it in execution. The king, charmed with the motion, desired him to take the direction of the work: and in a short time there was seen a large and beautiful city, which bore that prince's name, and was declared the metropolis of Armenia. When Lucullus advanced to lay siege to this place, the patience of Tigranes failed him. He marched in quest of the Romans, and the fourth day encamped over against them, being separated from them only by the river Arsanias, which they must necessarily pass in their march to Artaxata. Lucullus having sacrificed to the gods, in full per- suasion that the victory was his own, passed over in order of battle with twelve cohorts in front. The rest were placed in the rear to prevent their being surrounded by the enemy. For their mo- tions were watched by a large select body of cav- alry, covered by some flying squadrons of Mar- dian archers and Iberian spearmen in whose courage and skill Tigranes, of all his foreign troops placed the highest confidence. Their behavior, however, did not distinguish them. They ex- changed a few blows with the Roman horse, but did not wait the charge of the infantry. They dispersed and fled, and the Roman cavalry pursued them in the different routes they had taken. Tigranes now seeing his advantage, advanced with his own cavalry. Lucullus was a little in- timidated at their numbers, and the splendor of their appearance. He therefore called his cavalry off from the pursuit; and in the meantime was the foremost to advance against the nobility, who with the flower of the army, were about the king's person. But they fled at the sight of him without striking a blow. Of the three kings that were then in the action, the flight of Mithridates seems to have been the most disgraceful, for he did not stand the very shouts of the Romans. The pur- suit continued the whole night, until wearied with the carnage, and satisfied with the prisoners, and the booty they made, the Romans drew off. Livy tells us, that in the former battle there were greater numbers killed and taken prisoners: but in this, persons of higher quality. Lucullus, elevated with his success, resolved to penetrate the upper country, and to finish the de- struction of this barbarian prince. It was now the autumnal equinox, and he met with siorms he did not expect. The snow fell almost constantly; and when the sky was clear, the frost was so in- tense, that by reason of the extreme cold the horses could hardly drink of the rivers; nor could they pass them but with the utmost difficulty, be- cause the ice broke, and cut the sinews of their legs. Beside, the greatest part of their march was through close and woody roads, where the troops were daily wet with the snow that lodged upon the trees; and they had only damp places wherein to pass the night. They had not, therefore, followed Lucullus many days before they began to be refractory. At first they had recourse to entreaties, and sent their tribunes to intercede for them. Afterward they met in a more tumultuous manner, and their murmurs were heard all over the camp by night; and this, perhaps, is the surest token of a mutiny. Lucullus tried what every milder mea- sure could do; he exhorted them only to compose themselves a little longer, until they had destroyed .he Armenian Carthage, built by Hannibal, tho jreatest enemy to the Roman name. But finding ris eloquence ineffectual, he marched back, and >assed the ridge of mount Taurus, another way. ie came down into Mygdonia, an open and fer- ile country, where stands a great and populous city, which the barbarians called Nisibis, and the 'Jreeks Antioch of Mygdonia.* Gouras, brother to Tigranes, had the title, of governor, on account of his dignity ; but the commander in fact was allimachus, who, by his great abilities as an en- gineer, had given Lucullus so much trouble at Amisus. Lucullus, having invested the place, availed lirnself of all the arts that are used in a siege, and >ressed the place with so much vigor, that he car- ried it sword in hand. Gouras surrendered him- elf, and he treated him with great humanity. He would not, however, listen to Callimachus, though ie offered to discover to him a vast quantity of hidden treasure; but put him in fetters, in order that he might suffer capital punishment for setting fire to the city of Amisus, and by that means de- priving him of the honor of showing his clemency to the Greeks. Hitherto one might say, fortune had followed Lucullus, and fought for him. But from this time the gales of her favor fell; he could do no- thing but with infinite difficulty, and struck upon every rock in his way. He behaved, indeed, with all the valor and persevering spirit of a good gen- eral, but his actions had no longer their wonted glory and favorable acceptance with the world. Nay, tossed as he was on the waves of fruitless contention, he was in danger of losing the glory he had already acquired. For great part of his misfortunes he might blame himself, because, in the first place, he would never study to oblige the common soldiers, but looked upon every compli- ance with their inclinations as the source of his disgrace and the destruction of his authority What was of still greater consequence, he could not behave in an easy, affable manner, to those who were upon a footing with him in point of rank and birth, but treated them with haughtiness and considered himself as greatly their superior These blemishes Lucullus had amidst many per- fections. He was tall, well made, graceful, elo- quent, and had abilities for the administration as well as for the field. Sallust tells us, the soldiers were ill-affected to 1iim from the beginning of the war, beca/use he made them keep the field two winters successively the one before Cizycum and the other before Ami- sus. The rest of the winters were very disagree- able to them; they either passed them in hostilities against some enemy; or, if they happened to be among friends, they were obliged to live in tents For Lucnllus never once suffered his troops to en- ter any Grecian city, or any other in alliance with Rome. While the soldiers were of themselves thus ill disposed, they were made still more mutinous by the demagogues at home; who, through envy U Lucullus, accused him of protracting the war from a love of command and of the riches it procured him. He had almost the entire direction (they said) of Cilicia, Asia, Bithynia, Eaphlagonia, Gal- atia, Poutus, Armenia, and ail the provinces as far as the Phasi: and now he was pillaging the It was called Antioch. because, in its delicious walki and pleasing situation, it resembled the An'iocli of Daphne. LUCULLUS. 341 royal palaces of Tigranes, as if he had been sent to strip, not to subdue kings. So Lucius Quintius, one of the tribunes, is said to have expressed himself; the same who was principally con- cerned in procuring a decree that Lucullus should have a successor sent him, and that most of his troops should have their discharge. To these misfortunes was added another, which absolutely ruined the affairs of Luculluf. Publius Claudius, a man of the utmost insolence and effrontery, was brother to his wife, who was so abandoned a woman, that it was believed she had a criminal commerce with him. JJe now bore arms under Lucullus, and imagined he had not the post he deserved; for he wanted the first; and on account of his disorderly life, many were put before him. Finding this, he practiced with the Fimbrian troops, and endeavored to set them against Lucullus, by flattering speeches and insinu- ations, to which they were neither unaccustomed nor unwilling to attend. For these were the men whom Fimbriahad formerly persuaded to kill the consul Flaccus, and to appoint him their general. Still retaining such inclinations, they received Clodius with pleasure, and called him the soldier's friend. He did, indeed, pretend to be concerned at their sufferings, and used to say, "Shall there no period be put to their wars and toils, shall they go on righting one nation after another, and wear out their lives in wandering over the world? And what is the reward of so many laborious expedi- tions? what, but to guard the wagons and camels of Lucullus, loaded with cups of gold and precious stones? Whereas Pompey's soldiers already dis- charged, sit down with their wives and children upon fertile estates, and in agreeable towns; not for having driven Mithridates and Tigranes into inaccessible deserts, and destroying the royal cities in Asia, but for fighting with fugitives in Spain and slaves in Italy. If we must forever have our swords in our hands, let us reserve all our hearts, and what remains of our limbs, for a general who thinks the wealth of his men his greatest ornament." These complaints against Lucullus corrupted his soldiers in such a manner, that they would neither follow him against Tigranes, nor yet against Mithridates, who from Armenia had thrown himself into Pontus, and was beginning to recover his authority there. They pretended it was im- practicable to march in winter, and therefore loitered in Gordyene, expecting Pornpey, or some other general would come as successor to Lucul- lus. But when intelligence was brought that Mithridates had defeated Fabiug, and was march- ing against Sornatius and Triarius, they were ashamed of their inaction, and told Lucullus he might lead them wherever he pleased. Triarius being informed of the approach of Lucullus, was ambitious, before he arrived, to seize the victory which he thought perfectly se- cure; in consequence of which he hazarded and lost a great battle. It is said that about seven thousand Romans were killed, among whom were a hundred and fifty centurions, and twenty-four tribunes. Mithridates likewise took their camp. Lucullus arrived a few days after, fortunately enough for Triarius, whom he concealed from the soldiers, who wanted to wreak their vengeance upon him. As Mithridates avoided an action with Lucul- lus, and chose to wait for Tigranes, who was coming with a great army, Lucullus, in order to pievent their junction, determined to go in quest of Tigranes once more. But as he was upon his inarch, the Fimbrians mutinied and deserted his standard, alleging that they were discharged by an express decree, and no longer obliged to serve under Lucullus, when those provinces were con- signed to another. Lucullus, on this occasion, submitted to many things beneath his dignity, fie applied to the private men one by one, going round to their tents with a supplicating aspect and with tears in his eyes; nay, lie condescended to take some of them by the hand. But they rejected all his advances, and throwing down their empty purses before him, bade him go and fight the enemy himself, since he was the only person that knew how to make his advantage of it. However, as the other soldiers interposed, the Fimbrians were prevailed upon to stay all the summer, on condition that if no enemy faced them in the field, during that time, they should be at liberty to retire. Lucullus was obliged either to accept this proposal, or to abandon the country, or to leave it an easy prey to the barbarians. He kept the troops together, therefore, without pre- tending to exercise any act of power upon them, or to lead them out to battle; thinking it all he could expect, if they would remain upon the spot. At the same time he looked on, while Tigranes was ravaging Cappadocia, and Mithridates was growing strong and insolent again; though he had acquainted the senate by letter that he was absolutely conquered, and deputies were come to settle the affairs of Pontus, as a province entirely reduced. These deputies, on their arrival, found that he was not even master of himself, but ex- posed to every instance of insult and contempt from his own soldiers. Nay, they treated their general with such wanton mockery, as, when the summer was passed, to arm, and challenge the enemy who were now retired into quarters. They shouted as in the charge, made passes in the air, and then left the camp, calling Lucullus to witness that they had staid the time they promised him. Pornpey wrote to the other legions to attend him. For, through his interest with the people, and the flattering insinuations of the orators, lie was already appointed general against Mithridates and Tigranes. To the senate, indeed, and all the best of the Romans, Lucullus appeared to have very hard treatment, since a person was sent to succeed him, not so much in the war, as in his triumph: and he was robbed rather of the prize of honor than of the command. Those that were upon the spot found the matter still more invidi- ous. Lucullus had no longer the power either of rewarding or punishing. Pompey suffered no man to wait upon him about any business what- ever, or to pay any regard to the regulations he had made in concurrence with the ten commis- sioners. He forbade it by express and public or- ders; and his influence was great, on account of his coming with a more respectable army. Yet their friends thought it proper that they should come to an interview; and accordingly they did so in a village of Galatia. They addressed each other with much politeness, and with mutual compliments on their great success. Lucullus was the older man, but Pompey *had superior dig- nity, for he had commanded in more wars, and had been honored with two triumphs. Each had the fasces carried before him, adorned with a lau- rel on account of their respective victories; but as Pompey had traveled a long way through dry and parched countries, the laurels about his fasces were withered. The lictors that preceded Lucul- lus observing this, freely gave them a sufficient quantity of their fresh and green ones: which Pompey's friends considered as an auspicious cir cumstance. And, in fact, the great actions of 542 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Lucullus did cast a luster over this expedition of Pompey This interview, however, had no good effect; they parted with greater rancor m their hearts than they entertained at their meeting. Pompey annulled the acts of Lucullus; and taking the rest of his troops from him, left him only sixteen hundred men for his triumph; and even these fol- lowed him with reluctance. So ill qualified, or BO unfortunate, was Lucullus, with respect to the first and greatest requisite in a general, gaining the hearts of his soldiers. Hud this been added to his many other great and admirable talents, his courage, his vigilance, his prudence and justice, the Roman empire would not have been termi- nated, on the side of Asia, by the Euphrates, but by the Hyrcanian sea and the extremities of the earth. For Tigranes had already conquered the other nations; and the power of the Parthians was neither so great nor so united in itself, during this expedition of Lucullus, as it was afterward in the time of Crassus. On the contrary, they were weakened by intestine wars and by hostilities with their neighbors, insomuch that they were not able to repel the insults of the Armenians. my opinion, indeed, the advantages which country reaped from Lucullus were not equiva- lent to the calamities which he occasioned others to bring upon it. The trophies of Armenia, just in the neighborhood of Parthia, the palms of Ti- granocerta and Nisibis, with all their vast wealth carried in triumph to Rome, and the captive dia- dem of Tigranes adorning the show, drew Crassus into Asia; as if its barbarous inhabitants had been a sure and easy prey. However, when he met the Parthian arrows, he soon found that the suc- cess of Lucullus was owing to his own courage and capacity, and not to the folly and effeminacy of the enemy. Upon his return to Rome, Lucullus found his brother Marcus impeached by Memmius, for the practices he had given into during his quaestor- ship, by order of By Ha. And when Marcus was acquitted, Memmius turned against Lucullus him- millions seven hundred thousand drachmas. Th procession was closed with the registers of the money with which he had furnished Pompey for the war with the pirates, what he had remitted the quaestors for the public treasury, and the dis- tribution he had made among the soldiers at the rate of nine hundred and fifty drachmas each man. The triumph concluded with a magnificent enter- tainment provided for the whole city and the ad- jacent villages. He now divorced Clodia for her infamous in- trigues, and married Servilia the sister of Cato; but this second match was not more fortunate than the first. Servilia wanted no stain which Clodia had, except that of a commerce with her brothers. In other respects she was equally pro- fligate and abominable. He forced himself, how- ever, to endure her a long time, out of reverence to Cato, but at last repudiated her too. The senate had conceived great hopes of Lu- cullus, that he would prove a counterpoise to the tyranny of Pompey, and a protector of the whole patrician order; the rather because he had ac- quired so much honor and authority by his great actions. He gave up the cause, however, and quitted all pretensions to the administration: whe- ther it was that he saw the constitution in too sickly and declining a condition to be corrected; or whether, as others will have it, that being sati- ated with public honors, and having gone through many labors and conflicts which had not the most fortunate issue, he chose to retire to a life of ease and indulgence. And they commend this change in his conduct, as much better than the distem- pered measures of Marius; who, after his victo- ries over the Cimbri, and all his glorious achieve- ments, was not content with the admiration of his countrymen, but from an insatiable thirst of power, contended, in the decline of life, with the ambition of young men, falling into dreadful crimes, and into sufferings still more dreadful. "How much happier," said they, "would it have been for Cicero if he had retired alter the affair of Catiline; and for Scipio, if he had furled his self; alleging that he had converted a great deal j sails, when he had added Nurnantia to Carthage. For there is a period when we should bid adieu to political contests; these, as well as those of wres- tlers, being absurd, when the strength and vigor of life is gone." On the other hand, Crassus and Pompey ridi- culed Lucullus for giving into a life of pleasure and expense: thinking it full as unseasonable at his time of life to plunge into luxury, as to direct the administration, or lead armies into the field. Indeed, the life of Lucullus does look like the ancient comedy,* where first we see great actions, both political and military, and afterward feasts, debauches (I had almost said masquerades), races by torch-light, and every kind of frivolous amuse- tlie Circus Flaminius, and they made a very I ment. For among frivolous amusements, I can- agreeable and respectable show. In the proces'- not but reckon his sumptuous villas, walks and sion there were a few of the heavy-armed cavalry, ' baths, and still more so, the paintings, statues, aud of the booty to his own private use, and had will- fully protracted the war. By these means he endeavored to exasperate the people against him, and to prevail with them to refuse him his tri- umph. Lucullus was in great danger of losing it; but at this crisis, the first and greatest men in Rome mixed with the tribes, and after much can- vassing and the most engaging application, with great difficulty procured him the triumph. Its glory did not consist, like that of others, in the length of the procession, or in the astonishing pomp and quantity of spoils, but in exhibiting the enemy's arms, the ensigns and other warlike equi- page of the kings. With these he had adorned and ten chariots armed with scythes. These were followed by sixty grandees, either friends or lieu- tenants of the kings. After them were drawn a hundred and ten galleys with brazen beaks. The next objects were a statue of Mithridates in massy gold, full six feet high, and his shield set with precious stones. Then came up twenty exhibi- tions of silver vessels, and tvvo-and- thirty more of gold cups, arms, and gold coin. All these things were borne by men. These were followed by eight mules which carried beds of gold, and fifty-six more loaded with silver bullion. After these came a hundred and seven other mules, bearing silver coin to the amount of nearly two other works of art, which he collected at an im- mense expense; idly squandering away upon them the vast fortune which he had amassed in the wars.f Insomuch, that even now, when luxury has made so much greater advances, the gardens * The ancient satirical or comic pieces were partly tragi" cal, an'l partly comical. The Cyclops of Kuripides is the only piece of that kind which is extant. t Plutarch's philosophy seems a little too severe on thii occasion; for it is not easy to see how public fortunes of this kind can be more properly laid out than in the encou- ragement of the arts. It is to be observed, however, that the immense wealth Lueullus reserved to himself in hi* Asiatic expedition, in some measure justifies the eomplainu of his army ou that subject. LQCULL US. 343 of Lucullus are numbered with those of kings, and the most magnificent even of those. When Tubero, the Stoic, beheld his works on the sea- coast, near Naples, the hills he had excavated for vaults and cellars, the reservoirs he had formed about his houses, to receive the sea for the feeding of his fish, and his edifices in the sea itself; the philosopher called him Xerxes in a gown.* Be- side these, he had the most superb pleasure-houses in the country near Tusculum, adorned with grand galleries and open saloons, as well for the prospect as for walks. Pompey, on a visit there, blamed Lucullus for having made the villa Commodious only for the summer, and absolutely uninhabitable in the winter. Lucullus answered with a srnile, " What, then, do you think I have not so much sense as the cranes and storks, which change their habitations with the seasons? " A praitor, who wanted to exhibit magnificent games, applied to Lucullus for some purple robes for the chorus iu his tragedy; and he told him, he would inquire whether he could furnish him or not. Next day he asked how many he wanted. The prajtor answered, " A hundred would be suf- ficient" Upon which, Lucullus said, " He might have twice that number if he pleased." The poet Horace makes this remark on the occasion, Poor is the house, where plenty has not stores That miss the master's eye His daily repasts were like those of a man sud- denly grown rich; pompous, not only in the beds, which were covered with purple carpets, the side- boards of plate set with precious stones, and all the entertainment which musicians and comedians could furnish; but in the vast variety and exqui- site dressing of the provisions. These things ex- cited the admiration of men of unenlarged minds. Pompey, therefore, was highly applauded for the answer he gave his physician in a fit of sickness. The physician had ordered him to eat a thrush, and his servants told him, "That as it was sum- mer there were no thrushes to be found, except in the menageries of Lucullus." But he would not suffer them to apply for them there; and said to his physician, " Must Pompey then have died, if Lucullus had not been an epicure? " At the same time, he bade them provide him something which was to be had without difficulty. Cato, though he was a friend as well as a rela- tion to Lucullus, was so much displeased with the luxury in which he lived, that when a young man made a long and unseasonable speech in the house about frugality and temperance, Cato rose up and said, " Will you never have done? Do you, who have the wealth of Crassus, and live like Lucullus, pretend to speak like Cato?" But some, though they allow that there was such a rebuke, say it Came from another person. That Lucullus was not only delighted with this way of living, but even piqued himself upon it, ap- pears from several of his remarkable sayings. He entertained, for a considerable time, some Greeks who had traveled to Rome, until remembering the simplicity of diet in their own country, they were ashamed to wait on him any longer, and desired to be excused on account of the daily expense they brought upon him. He smiled, and said, " It is true, my Grecian friends, some part of this provision is for you, but the greatest part is for Lucullus." Another time, when he happened to * This refers to the hills Liionllus bored for the completion of his vaults, or for the admission of water. Xerxes had bored through Mount Athos, and made a passage under i for his *mp*. sup alone, and saw but one table and a very mod- erate provision, he called the servant who had the care of these matters, and expressed his dissatis- 'action. The servant said, he thought, as nobody was invited, his master would not want an ex- pensive supper. "What!" said he, "didst thou lot know that this evening Lucullus sups with Lucullus?" As this was the subject of much conversation in Rome, Cicero and Pompey ad- dressed him one day in the forum, when he ap- peared to be perfectly disengaged. Cicero was one of his most intimate friends, and though he md some difference with Pompey about the com- mand of the army, yet they used to see each other, and converse freely and familiarly. Cicero, after the common salutations, asked him, "Wheth- er he was at leisure to see company." lie an- swered, " Nothing could be more agreeable;" and pressed them to come to his house. " Then we will wait on you," said Cicero, " this evening, on condition you give us nothing but what is provi- ded for yourself." Lucullus made some difficul- ty of accepting the condition, and desired them to put off their favor until another day. But they in- sisted it should be that very evening, and would not suffer him to speak to his servants, lest he should order some addition to the supper. Only, at his request, they allowed him to tell one of them in their presence, " He should sup that evening in the Apollo;" which was the name of one of his most magnificent rooms. The persons invited had no notion of his stratagem; but, it seems, each of his dining-rooms had its particular allow- ance for provisions, and service of plate, as well as other furniture. So that the servants, hearing what room he would sup in, knew very well what expense they were to go to, and what side- board and carpets they were to use. The stated charge of an entertainment in the Apollo was fifty thousand drachmas, and the whole sum was laid out that evening. Pompey, of course, when he saw so vast and expensive a provision, was sur- prised at the expedition with which it was prepar- ed. In this respect, Lucullus used his riches with all the disregard on<3 might expect to be shown to so many captives and barbarians. But the great expense he incurred in collecting books, deserves a serious approbation. The num- ber of volumes was great, and they were written in elegant hands; yet the use he made of them was more honorable than the acquisition. His li- braries were open to all: the Greeks repaired at pleasure to the galleries and porticos, as to the re- treat of the Muses, and there spent whole days in conversation on matters of learning; delighted to retire to such a scene from business and from care. Lucullus himself often joined these learn- ed men in their walks, and conferred with them; and when he was applied to about the affairs of their country, he gave them his assistance and ad- vice. So that his house was in fact an asylum and senate-house to all the Greeks that visited Rome. He had a veneration for philosophy in general, and there was no sect which he absolutely reject- ed. But his principal and original attachment was to the Academy; not that which is called the new, though that flourished and was supported by Philo, who walked in the steps of Carneades; but the old Academy, whose doctrines were then taught by Antiochus of Ascalon, a man of the most persuasive powers. Lucullus sought his friendship with great avidity; and having prevail- ed with him to give him his company, set him to oppose the disciples of Philo. Cicero was of the number, and wrote an ingenious book against tha 344 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. old Academy, in which he makes Lucullus de- fend the principal doctrine in dispute, namely, that there is such a thing as certain knowledge, and himself maintains the contrary. The book is en- titled LUCUI.LUS. They were, indeed, as we have observed, sincere friends, and acted upon the same principle in the administration. For Lucullus had not entirely abandoned the concerns of gov- ernment; lie only gave up the point as to the first influence and direction. The contest for that, he saw, might be attended not only with danger and disgrace, and therefore he soon left it to Crassus and Cato. When he had refused to take the lead, those who looked upon the power of Pompey with a suspicious eye, pitched upon Crassus and Cato to support the patrician interests. Lucullus, notwithstanding, gave his attendance in the forum, when the business of hi.s friends required it; and he did the same in the senate-house, when there was any ambitious design of Pompey to combat. He got Pompey's orders annulled, which he had made after the conquest of the two kings; and, with the assistance of Cato, threw out his bill for a distribution of lands among his vet- erans. This threw Pompey into the arms of Crassus and Cajsar, or rather he conspired with them against the commonwealth; and having filled the city with soldiers, drove Cato and Lucullus out of the forum, and got his acts established by force. As these proceedings were highly resented by all who had the interest of their country at heart, Pompey's party instructed one Vectius to act a part; and gave it out that they had detected him in a design against Pompey's life. When Vectius was examined in the senate, he said, it was at the instigation of others; hut in the assembly of the people he affirmed, Lucullus was the man who put him upon it. No one gave credit to the asser- tion; and a few days after, it was very evident that the wretch was suborned to accuse an innocent man, when his dead body was thrown out of the prison. Pompey's party said, he had laid violent hands upon himself; but the marks of the cord that had strangled him, and of the blows he had received, showed plainly that he was killed by the persons who suborned him. This event made Lucullus still more unwilling to interfere in the concerns of government, and when Cicero was banished, and Cato sent to Cy- prus, he quitted them entirely. It is said, that his understanding gradually failed, and that before his death, it was absolutely gone. Cornelius Ne- pos, indeed, asserts that this failure of his intel- lects was not owing to sickness or old age, but to a potion given him by an enfranchised slave of his, named Callisthenes. Nor did Callisthenes give him it as a poison, but as a love potion. However, instead of conciliating his master's re- gards to him, it deprived him of his senses; so that, during the last years of his life, his brother had the care of his estate. Nevertheless, when he died, he was as much regretted by the people, as if he had departed in that hight of glory to which his merit in war and in the administration had raised him. They crowded to the procession; and the body being carried into the forum by some young men of the first quality, they insisted' it should be buriea in the campus martins, as that of Sylla had been. As this was a motion entirely unexpected, and the preparations for the funeral there could not easily be made, his brother, with much entreaty, prevail- ed with them to have the obsequies performed on the Tusculan estate, where everything was provi- ded for that purpose. Nor did he long survive him. As he had followed him close in the course of years and honors, so he was not far behind linn in his journey to the grave; to which he bore the character of the best and most affectionate of brothers. CIMON AND LUCULLUS COMPARED. WE cannot but think the exit of Lucullus hap- py, as he did not live to see that change in the con- stitution which fate was preparing for his country in the civil wars. Though the commonwealth was in a sickly state, yet he left it free. In this respect, the case of Cirnon was particularly sim- ilar. For he died while Greece was at the bight of her prosperity, and before she was in- volved in those troubles which proved so fatal to her. It is true, there is this difference : Ci- mon died in his camp, in the office of general, not like a man, who, fatigued with war, and avoiding its conflicts, sought the reward of his military labors and of the laurels he had won, in the delicacies of the table and the joys of wine. In this view, Plato was right in the censure of the followers of Orpheus,* who had placed the re- wards of futurity, provided for the good, in ever- lasting intoxication. No doubt, ease, tranquillity, literary researches, and the pleasures of contem- plation, furnish the most suitable retreat for a man in years, who has bid adieu to military and politi- * The passage here alluded to, is in the seoonil book of Plato's Republic. Plato censures not Orpheus, but Musseus Bud his son, for teaching this doctrine. Mussus and his son Enmolpus ware, however, disciples of Orpheus. cal pursuits. But to propose pleasure as the end of great achievements, and, after long expedi- tions and commands, to lead up the dance of Ve- nus, and. riot in her smiles, was so far from being worthy of the famed Academy, and a follower of the sage Xenocrates, that it rather became a disci- ple of Epicurus. This is the more surprising, be- cause Cimon seems to have spent his youth in luxury and dissipation, and Lucullus in letters and sobriety. It is certainly another thing, not- withstanding, to change for the better; and hap- pier is the nature in which vices gradually die, and virtue flourishes. They were equally wealthy, but did not apply their riches to the same purposes. For we can- not compare the palace at Naples and the Belvi- deres amidst the water, which Lucullus erected with the barbarian spoils, to the south wall of the citadel, which Cimon built with the treasure he brought from the wars. Nor can the sump- tuous table of Lucullus, which savored too much of Eastern magnificence, be put in competition with the open and benevolent table of Cimon. The one, at a moderate charge, daily nourished great numbers of poor; the other, at a vast ex- pense, pleased the appetites of a lew of the ricn CIMON AND LUCULLUS COMPARED 345 nd the voluptuous. Perhaps, indeed, some allow- ance must be made for the difference of the time. We know not, whether Cirnon, if he had lived to be old, and retired from the concerns of war and of the state, might not have given in to a more pompous and luxurious way of living: for he naturally loved wine and company, was a promo- ter of public feasts and games, and remarkable, as we have observed, for his inclination for the sex. But glorious enterprises and great actions, being attended with pleasures of another kind, leave no leisure for inferior gratifications; nay, they banish them from the thoughts of persons of great abilities for the field and the cabinet. And if Lucullus had finished his days in high commands and amidst the conflicts of war, I am persuaded the most envious caviler could have found nothing to reproach him with. So much with respect to their way of living. As to their military character, it is certain they were able commanders both at sea and land. But as the champions, who in one day gained the gar- land not only in wrestling but in the Pancration,* are not simply called victors, but by the custom of the games, the flowers of the victory; so Cimon, having crowned Greece with two victories gained in one day, the one at land, the other a naval one, deserves some preference in the list of generals. Lucullus was indebted to his country for his power, and Cirnon promoted the power of his country. The one found Rome commanding the allies, and under her auspices extended her con- quests; the other found Athens obeying instead of commanding, and yet gained her the chief au- thority among her allies, as well as conquered her enemies. The Persians he defeated, and drove them out of the sea, and he persuaded the Lace- demonians voluntarily to surrender the command. If it be the greatest work of a general to bring his men to obey him from a principle of affection, we shall find Lucullus greatly deficient in this re- spect. He was despised by his own troops, where- as Cimon commanded the veneration, not only of his own soldiers, but of all the allies. The former was deserted by his own, and the latter was court- ed by strangers. The one set out with a fine army, and returned alone, abandoned by that army; the other went out with troops subject to the orders they should receive from another gene- ral, and at his return they were at the head of the whole league. Thus he gained three of the most difficult points imaginable, peace with the enemy, the lead among the allies, and a good understand- ing with Sparta. They both attempted to conquer great king- doms, and to subdue all Asia, but their purposes were unsuccessful. Cimon's course was stopped by fortune; he died with his commission in his hand, and in the night of his prosperity. Lucul- lus, on the other hand, cannot possibly be excused, as to the loss of his autiiority, since he must either have been ignorant of the grievances of his army, which ended in so incurable an aversion, or unwil- ling to redress them. * The Pancration consisted of boxing and wrestling to- geiher. This he has in common with Cimon, that he was impeached by his countrymen. The Athe- nians, it is true, went farther; they banished Ci- mon by the ostracism, that they might not, as Plato expresses it, hear his voice for ten years. Indeed, the proceedings of the aristocratical party are seldom acceptable to the people ; for while they are obliged to use som violence for the cor rection of what is amiss, their measures resemble the bandages of surgeons, which are uneasy at the same time that they reduce the dislocation. But in this respect perhaps we may exculpate both the one and the other. Lucullus carried his arms much the farthest He was the first who led a Roman army over Mount Taurus, and passed the Tigris. He look and burned the royal cities of Asia, Tigranocerta, Cabira, Sinope, Nisibis, in the sight of their re- spective kings. On the north he penetrated as far as the Phasis, on the east to Media, and on the south to the Red Sea, by the favor and assistance of the princes of Arabia. He overthrew the ar- mies of the two great kings, and would certainly have taken them, had they not fled, like savages, into distant solitudes and inaccessible woods. A certain proof of the advantage Lucullus had in this respect, is, that the Persians, as if they had suffered nothing from Cimon, soon made head against the Greeks, and cut in pieces a great army of theirs in Egypt; whereas Tigranes and Mith- ridates could effect nothing after the blow they had received from Lucullus. Mithridates, en- feebled by the conflicts he had undergone, did not once venture to face Pompey in the field: instead of that, he fled to the Bosphorus, and there put a period to his life. As for Tigranes, he delivered himself, naked and unarmed, to Poinpey, took his diadem from his head, and laid it at his feet; in which he complimented Pompey, not with what was his own, but with what belonged to the laurels of Lucullus. The poor prince, by the joy with which he received the ensigns of royalty again, confessed that he had absolutely lost them. How- ever, he must be deemed the greater general, as* well as the greater champion, who delivers his adversa- ry, weak and breathless, to the next combatant. Beside, Cimon found the king of Persia ex- tremely weakened, and the pride of his people humbled, by the losses and defeats they had ex- perienced from Themistocles, Pausanhs, and Leo- tychidas; and their hands could not make much resistance, when their hearts were gone. But Lucullus met Tigranes fresh and unfoiled, elated and exulting in the battles he had fought and the victories he had won. Nor is the number of the enemy's troops which Cimon defeated, in the least to be compared to that of those who gave battle to Lucullus. In short, when we weigh all the advantages of each of these great men, it is hard to say to which side the balance inclines. Heaven appears to have favored both; directing the one to what, he should do, and warning the other what he should avoid. So that the geds bore witness of their virtue, and regarded them as persons in whom there wan something divine. 346 PLUT A RCH'S LIVES N I C I A S. WE have pitched upon Crassus, as a proper per- son to be put in parallel with Nicias; and the misfortunes which befell the one in Parthia, with those which overtook the other in Sicily. But we have an apology to make to the reader on another account. As we are now undertaking a history, where Thucydides, in the pathetic, has even out- done himself, and in energy and variety of com- position is perfectly inimitable; we hope no one will suspect we have the ambition of Timteus, who flattered himself he could exceed the power of Thucydides, and make Philistus* pass for an inelegant and ordinary writer. Under the influ- ence of that deception, Tirnaeus plunges into the midst of the battles both at sea and land, and speeches in which those historians shine the most. However, he soon appears, Not like a footman by the LydSan car, as Pindar expresses it, but a shallow puerile writer ;f or, to use the words of the poet Diphilus, A heavy animal, Cased in Sicilian lard Sometimes he falls into the dreams of Xenarchus: as where he says, " He could not but consider it as a bad omen for the Athenians, that they had a general with a name derived from victory, who disapproved the exhibition." As also, " That by the mutilation of the Hermae, the gods presignified that they should suffer most in the Syracusanwar from Hermocrates, the son of Hermon."|| And again, " It is probable that Hercules assisted the Syracusans, because Proserpine delivered up Cer- berus to him; and that he was offended at the Athe- nians for supporting the ^Egesteans, who were de- scended from the Trojans, his mortal enemies, whose city he had sacked, iu revenge for the in- juries he had received from Laomedon." He made these fine observations with the same discern- ment which put him upon finding fault with the language of Philistus, and censuring the writings of Plato and Aristotle. For my part, I cannot but think, all emulation and jealousy about expression, betray a littleness of mind, and is the characteristic of a sophist; and when that spirit of contest attempts things inimitable, it is perfectly absurd. Since, there- fore, it is impossible to pass over in silence those actions of Nicias which Thucydides and Philistus have recorded; especially such as indicate his manners and disposition, which often lay conceal- ed under the weight of his misfortunes; we shall Philistus was so able a writer, that Cicero calls him the younger Thueydides. t Tima:us might have his vanity; and, if he hoped to excel Thucydides, he certainly had. Yet Cicero and Dio- dorus speak of him as a very able historian. Longinus re- conciles the censure and the praise. He says, sometimes you rind him in the grand and sublime. But, blind to his own defects, he is much inclined to censure others, and is so fond of thinking out of the common road, that lie often sinks into the utmost, puerility. J Xeuarchus, the Peripatetic, was master to Strabo; and Xenaiclius,, the comic poet, was author of several pieces of humor, but we know no historian of that name. That is, Nicias. Nice signifies victory, II Longinus quotes this passage as an example of the frigid style, and of those puerilities he had condemned in Tim ecus. 1 give an abstract from them of what appears most necessary, lest we should be accused of negligence or indolence. As for other matters not generally known, which are found scattered in historians or in ancient inscriptions and decrees, we shall col- lect them with care; not to gratify a useless curi- osity, but by drawing from them the true lines of this general's character, to serve the purposes of real instruction. The first thing I shall mention relating to him, is the observation of Aristotle: That three of the most worthy men in Athens, who had a paternal regard and friendship for the people, were Nicias the son of Niceratus, Thucydides the son of Mi- lesius, and Theramenes the son of Agnon. The last, indeed, was not so remarkable in this respect as the other two. For he had been reproached with his birth as a stranger come from the Isle of Ceos; and from his want of firmness, or rather versatility, in matters of government, he was coll- ed the Buskin.* Thucydides was the oldest of the three; and when Pericles acted a flattering part to the people, he often opposed him in behalf of the nobility Though Nicias was much the younger man, he gained some reputation while Pericles lived, inso- much that he was several times his colleague in the war, and often commanded alone. But when Pe- ricles died, he was soon advanced to the head of the administration, particularly by the influence of the rich and great, who hoped he would prove a barrier against the daring insolence of Cleon. He had, however, the good wishes of the people, and they contributed their share to his advance- ment. It is true, Clcon had a considerable interest, which he gained by making his court to the old men, and by his frequent donations to the poor citizens. Yet even many of those whom he studied to oblige, seeing his avarice and effrontery, came over to Nicias. For the gravity of Nicias had nothing austere or morose in it, but was mix- ed with a reverence for the people in which fear seemed to be prevalent, and consequently was very agreeable to them. Indeed, he was naturally timid and cold-hearted; but this defect was concealed by ihe long course of success with which fortune favored his expeditions. And his timidity in the assemblies of the people, and dread of persons who made a trade of impeachments, was a popular thing It contributed not a little to gain him the regards of the multitude, who are afraid of those that despise them, and love to promote those that fear them, because, in general, the greatest honor they can hope to obtain, is not to be despised by the great. As Pericles kept the reins of government in his hands, by means of real virtue, and by the force of his eloquence, he had no need to hold out false colors, or to use any artifice with the people. Nicias was deficient in those great endowments, but had superior riches; and he applied them to the purposes of popularity. On the other hand, he could not, like Cleon, divert and draw th, people by an easy manner and the sallies of buf- * The form of the buskin was *ucb, that it might be won indifferently on either leg. NICIAS. 347 foonery; and therefore he amused them with the choruses of tragedy, with gymnastic exercises, and such like exhibitions, which far exceeded, in point of magnificence and elegance, all that went before him, and those of his own times too. Two of his offerings to the gods are to be seen at this day; the one, a statue of Pallas dedicated in the citadel, which has lost part of its gilding; the other, a small chapel in the temple of Bacchus, under the tripods, which are commonly offered up by those who gain the prize in tragedy. In- deed, Nicias was already victorious in those exhi- bitions, it is said, that in a chorus of that kind, one of his slaves appeared in the character of Bacchus. The slave was of an uncommon size and beauty, but had not arrived at maturity; and the people were so charmed with him, that they gave him long plaudits. At last, Nicias rose up and said, "He sheuld think it an act of impiety to retain a person in servitude, who seemed by tlie public voice to be consecrated to a god;" and he enfranchised him upon the spot. His regulations with respect to Delos, are still spoken of, as worthy of the deity who presides there. Before his time, the choirs which the cities sent to sing the praises of Apollo,* landed in a disorderly manner, because the inhabitants of the island used to run up to the ship, and press them to sing before they were disembarked; so that they were forced to strike up, as they were put- ting on their robes and garlands. But when Nicias had the conduct of this ceremony, known by the name of Theoria, he landed first in the Isle of Rhenia with the choir, the victims, and all the other necessary preparations. He had taken care to have a bridge constructed before he left Athens, which should reach from that isle to Delos, and which was magnificently gilded, and adorned with garlands, rich stuffs, and tapestry. In the night he threw his bridge over the channel, which was not large; and at break of day he marched over it at the iiead of the. procession, with his choir richly habited and singing hymns to the god. After the sacrifices, the games, and the banquets were over, he consecrated a palm-tree of brass to Apollo, and likewise a field which he had purchased for ten thousand drachmas. The Delians were to lay out the income in sacrificing and feasting, and at the same time to pray for Apollo's blessing upon the founder. This is inscribed on a pillar, which he left in Delos as a monument of his benefac- tion. As for the palm-tree, it was broken by the winds, and the fragment falling upon a great sta- tue,! which the people of Naxos had set up, de- molished it. It is obvious that most of these things were done for ostentation, and with a view to popu- larity. Nevertheless, we may collect from the rest of his life and conduct, that religion had the principal share in these dedications, and that popu- larity was but a secondary motive. For he cer- tainly was remarkable for his fear of the gods, and, as Thucyuides observes, he was pious to a degree of superstition.} It is related in the Dia- logues of Pasiphon, that he sacrificed every day, and that he had a diviner in his house, who, in appearance, inquired the success of the public affairs, but in reality was much ofleiier consulted * Tho.-e was a select band of music annually sent by the principal cities of (ireece. The procession was called Theoria, and ir. was looked upon as an honorable commis- sion lo have the management ot it. t A statue which the Naxians had dedicated to Apollo. The pedestal has been discovered by some modern travel- ers. J Thucyd. lib. vii. about his own, particularly as to the success of his silver mines in ths borough of Laurium; which in general afforded a large revenue, but were not worked without danger. He maintained there a multitude of slaves; and the greatest part of his fortune consisted in silver. So that he had many retainers who asked favors, and were not sent away empty. For he gave not only to those who deserved his bounty, but to such as might be able to do him harm; and bad men found resources in his fears, as well as good men in his liberality. The comic poets bear witness to what I have ad- vanced. Teleclides introduced a trading informer speaking thus: " Charicles would not give one mina to prevent my declaring that he was the first fruits of his mother's amours; but Nicias, the son of Niceratus, gave me four. Why he did it, I shall not say, though I know it perfectly well For Nicias is my friend, a very wise man beside, in my opinion." Eupolis, in his Marcia, brings another informer upon the stage, who meets with some poor ignorant man, and thus addressee him : " Informer. How long is it since you sav Nicias? "Poor Man. I never saw him before this mo ment, when he stood in the market-place. "Informer. Take notice, my friends, the man. confesses he has seen Nicias. And for what pur- pose could he see him, but to sell him his vote? Nicias, therefore, is plainly taken in the fact. "Poet. Ah, fools! do you think you caw ever persuade the world that so good a man as Nicias was taken in mal-practices?" Cleon, in Aristophanes, says in a menacing tone, "I will out-bawl the orators, and make Nicias tremble."* And Phrynicus glances at his excessive timidity, when speaking of another per- son, he says, "I know him to be an honest man and a good citizen, one who does not walk the streets with a downcast look, like Nicias." With this fear of informers upon him, he would not sup or discourse with any of the citizens, or come into any of those parties which make the time pass so agreeably. When he was archon, he used to stay in court until night, being always the first that came, and the last that went away. When he had no public business upon his hands, he shut himself up at home, and was extremely difficult of access. And if any persons came to the gate, his friends went and begged them to excuse Nicias, because he had some affairs under consideration which were of great importance to the state. The person who assisted him most in acting this farce, and gaining him the reputation of a man forever intent upon business, was one Hiero, who was brought up in his house, had a liberal education, and a taste for music given him there. He passed himself for the son of Dionysius, sur- named Chalcus, some of whose poems are still extant, and who having conducted a colony into Italy, founded the city of Thurii. This Hiero transacted all the private business of Nicias with the diviners; and whenever he cume among the people, he used to tell them, "What a laborious and miserable life Nicias led for their sakes. He cannot go to the bath," said he, " or the table, but some affair of state solicits his attention: and he neglects his own concerns to take care of the public. He can scarce find time for repose until the other citizens have had their first sleep. Amidst these cares and labors his health declines * This is in the Equities of Aristophanes, ver. 337. It it not Cleon, but Agoracritus, who speaks. 348 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. daily, and his temper is so broken that his friends no longer approach him with pleasure; but he loses them too, fter having spent his fortune in your service. Meanwhile other statesmen gain friends, and grow rich in their employments, and are sleek and merry in the steerage of govern- ment." In fact, the life of Nicias was a life of so much care, that he might have justly applied to himself that expression of Agamemnon, In vain the glare of pomp proclaims me master, I'm servant of the people Nicias perceived that the commons availed them- selves of the services of those who were distin- guished for their eloquence or capacity; but that they were always jealous and on their guard against their great abilities, and that they endea- vored to humble them, and to obstruct their pro- gress in glory. This appeared ia the condemna- tion of Pericles, the banishment of Damon, the suspicions they entertained of Antipho the Rham- nusian, but above all in the despair of Paches, who had taken Lesbos, and who being called to give an account of his conduct, drew his sword and killed himself in open court. Warned by these examples, he endeavored to avoid such expeditions as he thought long and difficult; and when he did take the command, he made it his business to proceed upon a sure plan. , For this reason he was generally success- ful: yet he ascribed his success to fortune, and took refuge under the wings of that divinity; contenting himself with a smaller portion of honor, lest envy should rob him of the whole. The event showed the prudence of his conduct. For, though the Athenians received many great blows in those times, none of them could be im- puted to Nicias. When they were defeated by the Chalcideans in Thrace, Calliades and Xeno- phon had the command; Demosthenes was gene- Val, when they miscarried in ^Etolia; and when they lost a thousand men at Deliurn, they were under the conduct of Hippocrates. As for the plague, it was commonly thought to be occasioned by Pericles, who, to draw the burghers out of the way of the war, shut them up in the city, where they contracted the sickness by the change of situation and diet. None of these misfortunes were imputed to Ni- cias: on the contrary, he took Cylhera, an island well situated for annoying Laconia, and at that time inhabited by Lacedemonians. He recovered many places in Thrace which had revolted from the Athenians. He shut up the Megarensians within their walls, and reduced the island of Minoa. From thence he made an excursion soon after, and got possession of the port of Nisrea. He like- wise made a descent upon the territories of Corinth, beat the troops of that state in a pitched battle, and killed great numbers of them. Lycophron, their general, was among the slain. He happened to leave there the bodies of two of his men, who were missed in carrying off the dead. But as soon as he knew it, he "stopped his course, and sent a herald to the enemy, to ask leave to take away those bodies. This he did, though there was a law and custom subsisting, by which those who desire a treaty for carrying off the dead, give up the victory, and are not at liberty to erect a trophy. And indeed, those who are so far masters of the field, that the enemy cannot bury their dead without permission, appear to be conquerors, because no man would ask that as a favor which he could command. Nicias, how- ever, chose rather to lose his laurels than to leave two of his countrymen unburied.* After he had ravaged the coast of Laconia, and defeated the Lacedaemonians who attempted to oppose him, he took the fortress of Thyra3a,f then held by the ^Sginetae, made the garrison prisoners, and carried them to Athens. Demosthenes having fortified Pylos, J the Peloponnesians besieged it both by sea and land. A battle ensued, in which they were worsted, and about four hundred Spar- tans threw themselves into the isle of Sphacteria The taking of them seemed, and indeed was, an important object to the Athenians. But the siege was difficult, because there was no water to be had upon the spot, and it was troublesome and expen- sive to get convoys thither; in summer they were obliged to take a long circuit, and in winter it was absolutely impracticable. They were much perplexed about the affair, and repented their re- fusing the terms of peace which the Lacedaemo- nians had offered by their ambassadors. It was through Cleon that the embassy did not take effect; he opposed the peace, because Nicias was for it. Cleon was his mortal enemy, and seeing him countenance the Lacedaemonians, per- suaded the people to reject their propositions by a formal decree. But when they found that the siege was drawn out to a great length, and that there was almost a famine in their camp, they expressed their resentment against Cleon. Cleon for his part, laid the blame upon Nicias; alleging that if the enemy escaped, it must be through hi? slow and timid operations; " Had I been the gene- ral," said he, " they could not have held out so long." The Athenians readily answered, " Why do not you go now against these Spartans?" And Nicias rose up and declared, " He would freely give up to him the command in the affair of Pylos; bade him take what forces he pleased; and, in- stead of showing his courage in words, where there was no danger, go and perform some actions worthy the attention of his country." Cleon, disconcerted with the unexpected offer, declined it at first. But when he found the Athe- nians insisted upon it, and that Nicias took his advantage to raise a clamor against him, his pride was hurt, and he was incensed to sucli a degree, that he not only undertook the expedition, but declared, " He would in twenty days either put the enemy to the sword, or bring them alive to Athens." The people laughed at his declaration, instead of giving it any credit. Indeed, they had long been accustomed to divert themselves with the sallies of his vanity. One day, for instance, when a general assembly was to be held, they had sat waiting for him a long time. At last he came, when their patience was almost spent, with a gar- land oil his head; and desired them to adjourn * The bury ing of the dead was a duty of great importance in the heathen world. The fahle of the gliost of an un htiried person not being allowed to pass the Stvx, is wet known. About eight years after the death of Nicias, the Athenians put six of their generals to death, for not inter- ring those soldiers that were slain in the battle of Arginusaa. t Thvrifia was a fort situated between Laconia and the territory of the Argives. It belonged of right to the Lace- daemonians, but they gave it to the ^Eginette, who had been expelled their country. t The Peloponnesians and their allies had entered Attica under the conduct of Agis, the son of Archidamas, and ravaged the country. Demosthenes, the Athenian general, made a diversion by seizing and fortifying Pylos. Thi brought Agis back to the defense of his own country. Tkucyd. \. iv. J The wiser sort hoped either to have the pleasure of seeing the Lacedaemonians brought prisoners to Athens, or else of getting rid of the importunate pretensions of Cleon. NICI AS. 349 nntil the day following: "For, to-day," says he, "I am not at leisure; I have stringers to enter- tain, and I have sacrificed to the gods." The Athenians only laughed, and immediately rose up and dismissed the assembly. Cleon, however, was so much favored by for- tune in this coin mission, that he acquitted himself better than any one since Demosthenes. He re- turned within the time he had fixed, after he had made all the Spartans who did not fall in battle, deliver up their arms; and brought them prisoners to Athens. This reflected no small disgrace upon Nicias. It was considered as something worse than throw- ing away Ins shield, meanly to quit his cornmaifd, and to give his enemy an opportunity of distin- guishing himself by his abdication. Hence Aris- tophanes ridicules him in his comedy called The Birds. "By heaven, this is no time for us to slumber, or to imitate the lazy operations of Nicias." And in his piece entitled The Hus- bandman, he introduces two Athenians discours- ing thus: " 1st Athenian. I had rather stay at home, and till the ground. " %d Athenian. And who hinders thee? " 1st Athenian. You hinder me. And yet, I am willing to pay a thousand drachmas to be excused taking the commission. "2d Athenian. Let us see. Your thousand drachmas, with those of Nicias, will make two thousand. We will excuse you." Nicius, in this affair, was not only unjust to himself, but to the state. He suffered Cleon by this means to gain such an ascendant as led him to a degree of pride and effrontery that was insup- portable. Many evils were thus brought upon the commonwealth, of which Nicias himself had his full share. We cannot but consider it as one great corruption, that Cleon now banished all de- corum from the general assembly. It was he who, in his speeches, first broke out into violent exclamations, threw back his robes, smote upon his thigh, and ran from one end of the rostrum to the other. This soon introduced such a licen- tiousness and disregard to decency among those who directed the affairs of state, that it threw the whole government into confusion. At this time there sprung up another orator at Athens. This was Alcibiades. He did not prove so totally corrupt as Cleon. As it is said of the land of Egypt, that, on account of its extreme fertility, There plenty sows the fields with herbs salubrious, But scatters many a baneful weed between; So in Alcibiades there were very different quali- ties, but all in extremes; and these extremes open- ed a door to many innovations. So that when Nicias got clear of Cleon, he had no time to estab- lish any lasting tranquillity in Athens; but as soon as he had got things into a safe track, the ambition of Alcibiades came upon him like a tor- rent, and bore him back into the storms of war. It happened thus. The persons who most opposed the peace of Greece, were, Cleon and Brasidas. War helped to hide the vices of the former, and to show the good qualities of the latter. Cleon found opportunity for acts of in- justice and oppression, and Brasidas for great and glorious actions. But after they both fell in the battle near Amphipolis, Nicias applied to the Lacedemonians on one hand, who had been for some time desirous of peace, and to the Athenians on the other, now no longer so warm in the pur- KU'.IS of war In fact, both parties were tired of hostilities, and ready to let their weapons drop out of their hands. Nicias, therefore, used his en- deavors to reconcile them, and indeed to deliver all the Greeks from the calamities they had suf- fered, to bring them to taste the sweets of repose, and to re-establish a long and lasting reign oi happiness. He immediately found the rich, tne aged, and all that were employed in the culture of the ground, disposed to peace; and by address- ing himself to the rest, and expostulating with them respectively, he soon abated their ardor for war. His next step was to give the Spartans hopes of an accommodation, and to exhort them to pro- pose such measures as might effect it. They readily confided in him, because they knew the goodness of his heart; of which there was a late instance in his humane treatment of their coun- trymen who were taken prisoners at Pylos, and who found their chains greatly lightened by hia good offices. They had already agreed to a suspension of arms for one year; 'during which time, they often met, and enjoyed again the pleasures of ease and security, the company of strangers, as well as nearer friends, and expressed their mutual wishes for the continuance of a life undisturbed with the horrors of war. It was with great delight they heard the chorus in such strains as this: Arachne freely now has leave Her webs around my spear to weave. They recollected with pleasure the saying, " That in time of peace men are awaked not by the sound of the trumpet, but the crowing of the cock." They execrated those who said, it was decreed by fate that the war should last three times nine years;* and this free intercourse lead- ing them to canvass every point, they at last signed the peace.f It was now the general opinion, that they were at the end of all their troubles. Nothing was talked of but Nicias. He, they said, was a man beloved of the gods, who. in recompense of his piety, had thought proper that the greatest and most desirable of all blessings should bear his name. It is certain, they ascribed the peace to Nicias, as they did the war to Pericles. And, in- deed, the one would plunge them, upon slight pretenses, into numberless calamities, and the other persuaded them to bury the greatest of injuries in oblivion, and to unite again as friends. It is therefore called the Nicean peace to this very day. It was agreed in the articles that both parties should restore the towns and the prisoners they had taken; and it was to be determined by lot which of them should do it first; but, according to Theophrastus, Nicias secured the lot by dint of money, so that the Lacedaemonians were forced to lead the way. As the Corinthians and Boeotians were displeased at these proceedings, and endea- vored, by sowing jealousies between the contract- ing powers, to renew the war, Nicias persuaded the Athenians and Lacedaemonians to confirm the peace, and to support each other by a league offensive and defensive. This, he expected, would intimidate those who were inclined to fly off. During these transactions, Alcibiades at first * "I remember," says Thucydides, "that throughout the whole war, many mentioned it was to last three times nine years. And if we reckon the first ten years of the war, the truce, very sh*>rl and ill observed that followed it, the treaties ill executed, and the war that was renewed there- upon, we shall rind the oracle fully justified by the event." Thvryd. 1. v. t Peace for fifty years was agreed upon and signed th year following: but it was soon broken again. 350 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. made it his business privately to oppose the peace For he was naturally disinclined to inaction, and was, moreover, offended at the Lacedemonians, on account of their attachment to Nicias, and their neglect and disregard of him. But when he found this private opposition ineffectual, he took another method. In a little time, he saw the Athenians did not look upon the Lacedemonians with so obliging an eye as before, because they thought themselves injured by the alliance which their new friends had entered into with the Bceo- tians, and because they had not delivered up Panactus and Amphipolis in the condition they found them. He therefore dwelt upon these points, and endeavored to inflame the people's resentment. Beside, he persuaded, and at last prevailed upon the republic of Argos to send an embassy for the purpose of negotiating a treaty with the Athenians. When the Lacedemonians had intelligence of this, they sent ambassadors to Athens, with full powers to settle all matters in dispute. These plenipotentiaries were introduced to the senate, and their proposals seemed perfectly just and rea- sonable. Alcibiades, upon this, fearing they would gain the people by the same overtures, circum- vented them by perfidious oaths and asseverations; "Promising he would secure the success of their commission, if they would not declare that they came with full powers; and assuring them, that no other method would be so effectual." They gave credit to his insinuations, and went over from Nicias to him. Upon introducing them to the people, the first question he asked them was, "Whether they came with full powers?" They denied it, as they were instructed. Then Alcibiades, beyond all their ex- pectations, changing sides, called the senate to bear witness to their former declarations, and desired the people, " Not to give the least credit or attention to such manifest prevaricators, who, upon the same point, asserted one thing one day, and another thing the next " Their contusion was inexpressible, as may well be imagined, and Nicias was struck dumb with grief and astonishment. The people, of course, sent immediately for the deputies of Argos, to conclude the treaty with them. But at that very moment, there happened a slight shock of an earthquake, which, favorably for Nicias, broke up the assembly. Next day they assembled again; and Nicias, by exerting all his powers, with much difficulty pre- vailed upon them not to put the last hand to the league with Argos; but, instead of that, to send him to Sparta,* where, he assured them, all would be well. When lie arrived there, he was treated with great respect, as a man of honor, and one who had shown that republic great friendship; however, as the party that had favored the Boeo- tians was the strongest, he could effect nothing.! He returned, therefore, not only with disrepute and disgrace, but was apprehensive of worse consequences from the Athenians, who were greatly chagrined and provoked, that, at his per- suasion, they had set free so many prisoners, and prisoners of such distinction. For those brought from Pylos, were of the first families in Sparta, and had connections with the greatest personages there. Notwithstanding this, they did not express their resentment in any act of severity; they only elected Alcibiades general, and took the Manti- lieans and Eleans, who had quitted the Lacede- There were others joined in commission with him. t Nicias insisted that the Spartans should renounce their alliance with the Boeotians, because they had not acceded to the pence. monian interest, in(o league with them, along with the Argives. They then sent a marauding party to Pylos, from thence to make excursions into Laconia. Thus the war broke out afresh. As the quarrel between Nicias and Alcibiades rose daily to a greater hight, the ostracism was proposed. To this the people have recourse at certain periods, and by it they expel for ten years any one who is suspected for his authority, or envied for his wealth. Both parties were greatlj alarmed at the danger, not doubting that it would fall to the lot of one of them. The Athenians detested the life and manners of Al cibiades, and at the same time they dreaded his enterprising spirit; as we have related mort at large in his life. As for Nicias, his riches expos- ed him to envy, and the rather, because there wai nothing social or popular in his manner of liv- ing; on the contrary, his recluse turn seemed ow- ing to an inclination for oligarchy, and perfectly in a foreign taste. Beside, he had combated their opinions, and by making them pursue their own interest against their inclination, was of course become obnoxious. In one word, the whole was a dispute between the young who wanted war, and the old who were lovers of peace. The former endeavored to make the os- tracism fall upon Nicias, and the latter on Alci- biades: But in seditions bad men rise to honor. The Athenians being divided into two factions, the subtlest and most profligate of wretches gained ground. Such was Hyperbolus of the ward of Perithois; a man whose boldness was not owing to any well grounded influence, but whose influence was owing to his boldness; and who disgraced the city by the credit he had acquired. This wretch had no apprehensions of banish- ment by the honorable suffrage of the ostracism, because he knew himself fitter for a gibbet. Hoping, however, that if one of these great men were banished, he should be able to make head against the other, he dissembled not his joy at this spirit of party, but strove to exasperate the peo- ple against both. Nicias and Alcibiades taking notice of his malice, came to a private interview, in which they agreed to unite their interests; and by that means avoided the ostracism themselves, and turned it upon Hyperbolus. At first the people were pleased, and laughed at the strange turn things had taken; but upon recollection, it gave them great uneasiness to think that the ostracism was dishonored by its falling upon a person unworthy of it. They were persuaded there was a dignity in that pun- ishment; or rather, that to such men as Thucy- dides and Aristides it was a punishment; where- as, to Hyperbolus it was an honor which he migh be proud of, since his profligacy had put him oa the same list with the greatest patriots. Hence Plato, the comic poet, thus speaks of him, "No doubt his crimes deserved chastisement, but a very different chastisement from that which he receiv- ed. The shell was not designed for such wretches as he." In fact, no one afterward was banished by it He was the last, and Hipparchus the Cholargian, a relation of the tyrant, was the first. From this event it appears how intricate are the ways of Fortune, how incomprehensible to human reason. Had Nicias run the risk of the ostracism, he would either have expelled Alcibiades, and lived afterward in his native city in full security; or if it had been carried against him, and he had been NICIAS. 351 forced to retire, he would have avoided the im- pending stroke of misery, and preserved the repu- tation of a wise and experienced general. I am not ignorant that Theophrastus says, Hyperbolas was banished in the contest between Phseax and Alcibiades, and not in that with Nicias. But most historians give it as above related. About this time the ^Egesteans and Leontines sent an embassy, to desire the Athenians to un- dertake the Sicilian expedition. Nicias opposed It, but was overruled by the address and ambition of Alcibiades. Indeed, Alcibiades had previously gained the assembly by his discourses, and cor- rupted the people to such a degree with vain hopes, that the young men in their places of ex- ercise, and the" old men in the shops and other night, except that which was called- the Mercury of Andocides, and which had been consecrated by the tribe of Egis, before the door of the person just named. Such also was the pollution of the altar of the twelve gods. A man got astride upon it, and there emasculated himself with a stone. In the temple of Delphi there was a gold- en statue of Pallas, which the Athenians hud erected upon a palm-tree of brass, in commemo- ration of the victory over the Medes. The crows came and beaked it for several days, and pecked off the golden fruit of the tree. The Athenians, however, said, these were only fictions propagated at Delphi at the instigation of the Syracusans. A certain oracle ordered them to fetch a priestess of Minerva from Clazomenae; places where they conversed, drew plans" of Si- : and when she came, they found her name was cily, and exhibited the nature of its seas, with all I Hesychia, by which the Deity seemed to exhort its ports and bearings on the side next Africa. them to continue in quiet. Melon the astrologer, For they did not consider Sicily as the reward of ; whether he was struck with these signs, or their operations, but only as a place of arms; ' whether by the eye of human reason he discov- from whence they were to go upon the conquest 1 ered the impending danger (for he had a oom- of Carthage; nay, of all Africa, and to make I niand in the army), feigned himself mnd, and set themselves masters of the seas within the pillars of Hercules. While they were so intent upon this expedi- tion, Nicias had not many on his side; either among the commons or nobility, to oppose it For the rich, fearing it might be thought they were afraid to serve in person, or to be at the expense of fitting out men-of-war, sat silent, contrary to their better judgment. Nici- as, however, opposed it indefatigably, nor did he fire to his house. Others say, he used no pre- tense to madness, but having burned down his house in the night, addressed himself next morn- ing to the assembly in a forlorn condition, and desired the citizens, in compassion for his misfor- tune, to excuse his son, who was to have gone out captain of a galley to Sicily. The genius of Socrates,* on this occasion, warned that wise man by the usual tokens, that the expedition would prove fatal to Athens. give up his point after the decree was passed for i He mentioned this to several of his friends and the war, and he was elected general along with ! acquaintance, and the warning was commonly Alcibiades and Lamachus, and his name first in ) talked of. Many were likewise greatly discour- tlie suffrages. In the first assembly that was aged on account of the time which the fleet hap- held after that, he rose to dissuade them, and to pened to be sent out. The women were then eel- protest against their proceedings. In conclusion, j ebrating the feasts of Adonis, during which he attacked Alcibiades, for plunging the state in ! there were to be seen in every quarter of the city a dangerous and foreign war, merely with a view to his own emolument and fame. But his argu- ments had no effect. They thought a man of his experience the fitter to conduct this enterprise; and *hat nothing could contribute more to its success, than to unite his caution with the fiery spirit of Al- (jibiades, and the boldness of Lamachus. There- fore, they were still more confirmed in their choice. Beside, Demostratus, who of all the ora- tors took most pains to encourage the people to that war, rose and said, he would soon cut off all the excuses of Nicias; and immediately he pro- posed and carried an order, that the generals should have a discretionary power to lay plans and put them in execution, bolh at home and abroad. It is said, indeed, that the priests strongly op- posed the expedition. But Alcibiades had "other diviners to set against them; and he gave it out, that certain ancient oracles promised the Athe- ians great glory in Sicily. The envoys, too, who were sent to consult the oracle of Jupiter Ammon, returned with an answer importing that *he Athenians would take all the Syracusans. If any of the citizens knew of bad presages, they took care to conceal them, lest they should seem to pronounce anything inauspicious of an enterprise which their countrymen had too much at heart. Nor would any warnings have availed, when they were not moved at the most clear and ohviou vigils. Such was the mutilation of the Herma,* whose heads were all struck off in one * The fffrr.<c, or statues of Mercury, were square figures, placed by '.iie Athenians at the gates 01 their temples and i the doors of their houses. images of the dead and funeral processions; the women accompanying them with dismal lamen- tations. So that those who took any account of omens, were full of concern for the fate of their countrymen. They trembled to think that an armament fitted at so vast an expense, and which made so glorious an appearance, would soon lose its consequence. As for Nicias, he showed himself a wise and worthy man, in opposing the expedition while it was under consideration; and in not suffering himself, after it was resolved upon, to be dazzled by vain hopes, or by the eminence 'of his post, so as to depart from his opinion. Nevertheless, when he could neither divert the people from their purpose, nor by all his efforts get himself excused from taking the command, but was placed, as it were by violence, at the head of a great army, delay. it was then no time for caution and timid He should not then have looked back from his ship like a child; or, by a multitude of protestations that his better counsels were over- ruled, have disheartened his colleagues, and abat- ed the ardor of his troops, which alone could give him a chance of success. He should have immediately attacked the enemy with the utmost vigor, and made Fortune blush at the calamities she was preparing. But his conduct was very different. When Lamachus proposed to make a descent close by Syracuse,* and to give battle under the walls; and Alcibiades was of opinion, they should first reduce the cities that owned the authority of Sy- In Theog. t Vid. Tkucyd. 1. vi. 352 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. racuse, and then march against the principal en- emy: Nicias opposed both. He gave it forecast- ing along Sicily without any act of hostility, and showing what an armament they had. Then he was for returning to Athens, after having left a small reinforcement with the ^Egesteans, as a taste of the Athenian strength. Thus he inter- cepted all their schemes, and broke down their spirits. The Athenians, soon after this, called Alcibia- des home to take his trial; and Nicias remained, joined indeed with another in commission, but first in authority. There was now no end of his delays. He either made an idle parade of sailing along the coast, or else sat still deliberating; until the spirit of confidence which buoyed up his own troops was evaporated and gone, as well as the consternation with which the enemy were seized at the first sight of his armament. ,It is true, before the departure of Alcibiades, they had sailed toward Syracuse with sixty gal- leys, fifty of which they drew up in line of bat- tle before the harbor; the other ten they sent in to reconnoiter the place. These advanced to the foot of the walls, and, by proclamation, invited the Leontines to return to their old habitations.* At the same time they happened to take one of the enemy's vessels, with the registers on board, in which all the Syracusans were set down ac- cording to their tribes. They used to be kept at some distance from the city in the temple of Ju- piter Olympus, but were then sent for to be ex- amined, in order to the forming a list of per- sons able to hear arms. When these registers were brought to the Athenian generals, and such a prodigious number of names was displayed, the diviners were greatly concerned at the accident; thinking the prophesy, that the Athenians should take all the Syracusans, might possibly in this have its entile accomplishment on another occa- sion, when Calippus the Athenian, after he had killed Dion, made himself master of Syracuse. When Alcibiades quitted Sicily with a small retinue, the whole power devolved upon Nicias. Lamachus, indeed, was a man of great courage and honor, and he freely exposed himself in time of action; but his circumstances were so mean, that whenever he gave in his accounts of a cam- paign, he charged a small sum for clothes and sandals. Nicias, on the contrary, beside his other advantages, derived great authority from his emi- nence both as to wealth and name. We are told, that on another occasion, when the Athenian gen- erals met in a council of war, Nicias desired So- phocles the poet, to give his opinion first, because he was the oldest man. " It is true," said Sopho- cles, " I am older in respect of years; but you are older in respect of service." In the same man- ner he now brought Lamachus to act under his orders, though he was the abler general; and his proceedings were forever timid and dilatory. At first he made the circuit of the island with his ships at a great distance from the enemy; which served only to raise their spirits. His first opera- tion was, to lay siege to the little town of Hybla; and not succeeding in that affair, he exposed him- self to the utmost contempt. Afterward he re- tired to Catana, without any other exploit than that of ruining Hyccara, a small place subject to the barbarians. Lais the courtesan, who was then * Tbpy ordered prodamntion to be made by a herald, that tho Athenians were come to restore the Leontines to their country, in virtue of the relation and alliance between liietn. in consequence of which, snch of the Leontines as uere in Syracuse, had nothing to no but to repair to the Athenians, who would take cure to conduct them. a girl, is said to have been sold among the prison- ers, and carried from thence to Peloponnesus. Toward the end of the summer, he was informed the Syracusans were come to that degree of con- fidence, that they designed to attack him. Nay, some of their cavalry rode up to his trenches, and asked his troops in great derision, " Whether they were not rather come to settle in Catana them- selves, than to settle the Leontines in their old habitations? " Nicias, now, at last, with much difficulty deter- mined to sail for Syracuse. In order to land his forces, and encamp them without running any risk, he sent a person to Catana before him, who, under pretense of being a deserter, should tell the Syracusans, that if they wanted to surprise the enemy's camp, in a defenseless state, and make themselves masters of their arms and baggage, they had nothing to do but to march to Catana with all their forces, on a day that he mentioned. For the Athenians, he said, passed the greatest part of their time within the walls: and such of the inhabitants as were friends to the Syracusans had determined, upon their approach, to shut in the enemy and to burn their fleet. At the same time he assured them, their partisans were very numerous, and waited with impatience for their arrival.* This was the best act of generalship Nicias per- formed in Sicily. Having drawn by this means the enemy's force out of Syracuse, so that it was left almost without defense, he sailed thither from Catana, made himself master of their ports, and encamped in a situation, where the enemy could least annoy him by that in which their chief strength consisted, and where he could easily exert the strength in which he was superior. The Syracusans, at their return from Catana, drew up before the walls, and Nicias immediately attacked and beat them. They did not, however, lose any great number of men, because their cavalry stopped the Athenians in the pursuit. As Nicias had broken down all the bridges that were upon the river, he gave Hermocrates opportunity to encourage the Syracusans, by observing, " That it was ridiculous in Nicias to contrive means to prevent fighting: as if fighting was not the busi- ness he came about." Their consternation, in- deed, was so great, that, instead of the fifteen generals they had, they chose three others, and the people promised, upon oath, to indulge them with a power of acting at discretion. The temple of Jupiter Olympus was near the camp, and the Athenians were desirous to take it, because of the quantity of its rich offerings in gold and silver. But Nicias industriously put off the attack, and suffered a Syracusan garrison to enter it; persuaded that the plunder his troops might get there would be of no service to the public, and that he should bear all the blame of the sacrilege. The news of the victory soon spread over the whole island, but Nicias made not the least im- provement of it. He soon retired to Nuo0,f and wintered there: keeping an army on foot at a great expense, and effecting but little, for only a few Sicilians came over to him. The Syracusans recovered their spirits again so as to make another excursion to Catana, in which they ravaged the country, and burned the Athenian camp. Mean- while all the world censured Nicias, and said, that by his long deliberations, delays, and extreme * Nicias knew lie could not make a descent from his shipi near Syracuse, because the inhabitants were prepared tor him; nor could he go by land, for want of cavalry t A city between Syracuse and Cataiia. NICI AS. 353 caution, he lost the time for action. When he did act, there was nothing to be blamed in the manner of it: for he was as bold and vigorous in executing as he was timid and dilatory in forming a resolution. When he had once determined to return with his forces to Syracuse, he conducted all his move- ments with so much prudence, expedition, and safety, that he had gained the peninsula of Thap- sos, disembarked his men, and got possession of Epipola?, before the enemy knew of his approach. He beat, on this occasion, some infantry that were sent to succor the fort, and made three hundred prisoners; he likewise routed their cavalry, which was thought invincible. But what most astonished the Sicilians, and ap- peared incredible to the Greeks, was, that in a short space of time he inclosed Syracuse with a wall, a city not less than Athens, and much more difficult to be surrounded by such a work, by rea- son of the unevenness of the ground, the vicinity of the sea, and the adjoining marshes. Add to this, that it was almost effected by a man whose health was by no means equal to such an under taking, for he was afflicted with the stone, ana it it was not entirely finished, we must impute it to that circumstance. I cannot, indeed, but admire the attention of the general and the invincible courage of the soldiers, in effecting what they did, in this as well as in other instances. Euripides, after their defeat and death, wrote this epitaph for them: Eight trophies these from Syracuse obtain'd, Ere yet the gods were partial. And in fact we find that the Athenians gained not only eight, but several more victories of the Syra- cusans, until the gods or fortune declared against them, at a time when they were arrived at the highest pitch of power. Nicias forced himself beyond what his health would allow, to attend most of the actions in person; but when his dis- temper was very violent, he was obliged to keep his bed in the camp, with a few servants to wait upon him. Meantime, Lamachus, who was now command- w-in-chief, came to an engagement with the Sy- racusans, who were drawing a cross wall from the city, to hinder the Athenians from finishing theirs. The Athenians generally having the advantage, went in too disorderly a manner upon the pursuit; and it happened one day that Lamachus was left almost alone to receive the enemy's cavalry. Cal- licrates, an officer remarkable for his strength and courage, advanced before them, and gave Lama- chus the challenge; which he did not decline. Lamachus received the first wound, which proved mortal, but he returned it upon his adversary, and they fell both together. The Syracusans remained masters of the body and arms of Lamachus, car- ried them off, and without losing a moment, marched to the Athenian camp, where Nicias lay without any guards to defend him. Roused, how- ever, by necessity and the sight of his danger, he ordered those about him to set fire to the mate- rials before the intrenchments which were pro- vided for the machines, and to the machines them- selves. This put a stop to the Syracusans, and saved Nicias, together with the Athenian camp and baggage. For as soon as they beheld the flames rising in vast columns, between the camp and them, they retired. Nicias now remained sole commander, but he had reason to form the most sanguine hopes of iuccess. The cities declared for him, and ships 'julen with provisions came daily to his camp; his 23 affairs being in so good a train that the Sicilians strove which should first express their attachment. The Syracusans themselves, despairing of holding out much longer, began to talk of proposals for an accommodation. Gylippus, who was corning from Lacedaemon to their succor, being informed of the wall with which they were inclosed, and the extremities they were reduced to, continued his voyage, not with a view to Sicily, which ho gave up for lost, but, if possible, to save the Greek cities in Italy. For the renown of the Athenians was now very extensive; it was reported that they carried all before them, and that they had a gen- | eral whose prudence as well as good fortune, ren- dered him invincible. Nicias, himself, contrary to his nature, was suddenly elated by lus present strength and success; the more so, because he was persuaded, upon private intelligence from Syracuse, as well as more public application, that the city was about to capitulate. Hence it was that he took no account of the approach of Gy- lippus, nor placed any regular guard to prevent his coming ashore; so that, screened by this utter negligence, Gylippus landed with safety. It was at a great distance from Syracuse, and he found means to collect s. considerable army. But the Syracusans were so far from knowing or expect- ing his arrival, that they had assembled that very day to consider of articles of capitulation, nay, some were for coming to terms that moment, be- fore the city was absolutely inclosed. For there was but a small part of the wall unfinished, and all the necessary materials were upon the spot. At this critical and dangerous instants Gongy- 1ns arrived from Corinth with one galley af three banks cf oars. The whole town was in motion, as might naturally be expected. He told them, Gyiippus would soon come, with several other ships, to their succor. They could not give entire credit to Gongylus; but while they were weigh- ing the matter, a messenger arrived from Gylip- pus, with orders that they should march out to join him. Immediately upon this, they recovered their spirits, and armed. Gylippus soon arrived and put his troops in order of battle. As Niciaa was drawing up against him, Gylippus rested his arms, and sent a herald with an offer of safe con- duct to the Athenians, if they would quit Sicily Nicias did not deign to give him any answer* But some of the soldiers asked him, by way of ridicule, " Whether the Syracusans were become so strong by the arrival of one Lacedaemonian cloak and staff, as to despise the Athenians who had lately knocked off the fetters of three hundred Spartans and released them, though all abler men, and better haired than Gylippus?" Timaeus says, the Sicilians set no great value upon Gylippus. For in a little time they disco- vered his sordid avarice and meanness; and, at his first appearance, they laughed at his cloak and head of hair. Yet the same historian relates, that as soon as Gylippus showed himself, the Sici- ians gathered about him, as birds do about an owl, and were ready to follow him wherever he pleased. And the latter account has more truth, n it than the former. In the staff and cloak they Beheld the symbols of the Spartan dignity, and therefore repaired to them. Thucydides also tells us, that Gylippus was the only man who saved Sicily; and Phylistus, a citizen'of Syracuse, and an eye-witiuss to those transactions, does the same. In the first engagement the Athenians had the advantage, and killed some of the Syracusans, ongylus of Corinth fell at the same time. But he next day, Gylippus showed tlieiu.af what-con- 354 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. sequence experience in a general is; with the very same arms and horses, and on the same spot, by only altering his order of battle,* he beat the Athe- nians, and drove them to their camp. Then taking the stones and other materials which they had brought for their wall, he continued the cross wall of the Syracusans, and cut through theirs in such a manner, that if they gained a victory, they could make no advantage of it. Encouraged by this success, the Syracusans manned several vessels ; and beating about the country with their cavalry and allies, they made many prisoners. Gylippus applied to the towns in person, and they readily listened to him and lent him all the assistance in their power. So that Nicias, relapsing into his former fears and despondence, at the sight of such a change of affairs, applied to the Athenians by letter, either to send another army, or to recall that which he had; and at the same time he desired them by all means to dismiss him from the command, on ac- count of his infirmities. The Athenians had designed some time before to send another army into Sicily; but the envy which the first success of Nicias had excited, had made them put it off upon several pretenses. Now, however, they hastened the succors. They likewise came to a resolution, that Demosthenes should go in the spring with a respectable fleet, and that Eurymedon,t without waiting until win- ter was over, should carry money to pay the troops, and acquaint Nicias that the people had pitched upon Euthydemus and Menander, jfficers who then served und^r him, to assist hirn in his charge. Meantime, Nicias was suddenly attacked both by sea and land. At first, part of his fleet was worsted; but in the end he proved victorious and sunk many of the enemy's ships. He could not, however, succor his troops by land, as the exi- gence of the case required. Gylippus made a sudden attack upon the fort of Plernmyrium, and took it; by which means he became master of the naval stores of the Athenians, and a great quantity of treasure, which had been lodged there. Most of the garrison was either killed or taken priso- ners. But, what was still a greater blow to Nicias, by the loss of this place, he lost the convenience oi his convoys. For, while he had Plernmyrium, the communication was safe and easy; but when that was taken, his supplies could not reach him without the utmost difficulty, because his trans- ports could not pass without fighting the enemy's ships, which lay at anchor under the fort. Beside, the Syracusans thought their fleet was beaten, not by any superior strength they hud to combat, but by their going in a disorderly man- ner upon the pursuit. They therefore fitted out a most respectable fleet, in order for another action. Nicias, however, did not choose at present, to try the issue of another naval fight, but declared it very absurd, when a large reinforcement of ships and fresh troops were hastening to him under the conduct of Demosthenes, to hazard a battle with a force so much inferior and so ill provided. On the other hand, Menander and Euthydemus, who were appointed to a temporary share in the command, were led by their ambition and jealousy of Demosthenes and Nicias, to strike some extra- * He had the address to impute the late defeat to him- self, and to assure his men that their behavior was irre- proachable. He said, that by ranging them the day before between walls, where their cavalry and archers had not room to act, he had prevented their conquering t Eurymedon went with ten galleys. ordinary stroke, in order to be beforehand with the one, and to outdo the most shining actions of the other. Their pretense was the glory of Athens, which they said would be utterly lost, if they showed any fear of the Syracusan fleet. Thus they overruled Nicias and gave battle. But they were soon defeated by a stratagem of Ariston, the Corinthian, who was a most excellent seaman.* Their left wing, as Thucydides relates, was en- tirely routed, and they lost great numbers of their men. This loss threw Nicias into the greatest consternation. He reflected upon the checks he had met with while he had the sole command, and that he had now miscarried again through the obstinacy of his colleagues. While he was indulging these reflections, De- mosthenes appeared before the fort with a very gallant and formidable fleet. He had seventy- three galleys. f on board of which were five thou- sand heavy-armed soldiers, and archers, spearmen, and slingers, to the number of three thousand. Their armor glittered, the streamers waved, and the prow.s of the ships were adorned with a variety of rich paintings. He advanced with loud cheers and martial music, and the whole was conducted in a theatrical manner to strike terror into the enemy. The Syracusans were ready to fall into despair again. They saw no end or truce to their miseries; their labors and conflicts were all to begin anew, and they had been prodigal of their blood to no purpose. Nicias, however, had not long to rejoice at the arrival of such an arrny. At the first in- terview, Demosthenes wanted him to attack the enemy, that they might take Syracuse by an im- mediate and decisive stroke, and return again with glory to Athens. Nicias, astonished at his heat and precipitation, desired him to adopt no rash or desperate measures. He assured him, delay would maJte against the enemy, since they were already in want of money, and their allies would soon quit both them and their cause. Consequently when they began to feel the hard hand of neces- sity, they would apply to him again, and surren- der upon terms, as they were going to do before. In fact, Niciaa had a private understanding with several persons in Syracuse, who advised him to wait with patience, because the inhabitants were tired out with the war, and weary of Gylippus; and when their necessities should become a little more pressing, they would give up the dispute. As Nicias mentioned these things in an enigma- tical manner, and did not choose to speak out, it gave occasion to the other generals, to accuse him of timidity. "He is coming upon us," said they, " with his old delays, dilatory, slow, over-cautious counsels, by which the vigor and ardor of his troops were lost. When he should have led them on immediately, he waited until their spirit was gone, and the enemy began to look upon them with contempt." The other officers, therefore, listened to Demosthenes, and Nicias, at last was forced to give up the point. Upon this, Demosthenes put himself at the head of the land forces, and attacked Epipolae in the night. As he came upon the guards by surprise, he killedmany of them, and routed those who stood * Ariston advised the captains of the galleys to have re freshments ready for their men on the shore, while th Athenians imagined they went into the town for them. Th Athenians, thus deceived, landed and went to dinner like- wise. In the meantime, the Syracusans, having made an ex- peditious meal, re-embarked, and attacked the Atheuiaj ships when there was scarce anybody to defend them. t Diodorus Siculus makes them three huii lrd aad ten. NICIAS. 355 upon their defense. Not content with this advan- tage, he proceeded until he came to the quarter where the Breotians were posted. Those cJosed their ranks, and first charged the Athenians, ad- vancing with leveled pikes, and with all the alarm of voices; by which means they repulsed them, and killed a considerable number. Terror and confusion spread through the rest of the army. They who still kept their ground, and were victo- rious, were encountered by those that fled; and they who were marching down from Epipolae to support the foremost bands, were put in disorder by the fugitives; for they fell foul of one another, and took their friends for enemies. The confu- sion, indeed, was inexpressible, occasioned by their fears, the uncertainty of their movements, and the impossibility of discerning objects as they could have wished, in a night which was neither quite dark nor sufficiently clear: the moon being near her setting, and the little light she gave ren- dered useless by the shade of so many bodies and weapons moving to and fro. Hence the appre- hensions of meeting with an enemy made the Athenians suspect their friends, and threw them into the utmost perplexity and distress. They happened, too, to have the moon upon their backs, which casting their shadows before them, both hid the number of their men and the glittering of their arms; whereas the reflection from the shields of the enemy, made them appear more numerous, and better armed than they really were. At last, they turned their backs, and were entirely routed. The enemy pressed hard upon them on all sides, and killed great numbers. Many others met their death in the weapons of their friends. Not a few fell headlong from the rocks or walls. The rest were dispersed about the fields, where they were picked up the next morning by the cavalry, and put to the sword. The Athenians lost two thou- sand men in this action; and very few returned with their arms to the head-quarters. This was a severe blow to Nicias, though it was what he expected; and he inveighed against the rash proceedings of Demosthenes. That general defended himself as well as he could, but at the same time, gave it as his opinion, that they should embark and return home as fast as possible. " We cannot hope," said he, " either for another army, or to conquer with the forces we have. Nay, supposing we had the advantage, we ought to re- linquish a situation, which is well known at all times to be unhealthy for the troops, and which now we find still more fatal from the season of the year." It was, indeed, the beginning of autumn: numbers were sick, and the whole army was dispirited. Nevertheless, Nicias could not bear to hear of returning home; not that he was afraid of any opposition from the Syracusans, but he dreaded the Athenian tribunals and unfair impeachments there. He therefore replied " That there was no great and visible danger at present, and if there were, he would rather die by the hands of the enemy than those of his fellow-citizens." In this respect he greatly differed from Leo, of Byzan- tium, who afterward said to his countrymen, " I had rather die with you than for you." Nicias added, " That if it should appear necessary to en- camp in another place, they might consider of it at their leisure." Demosthenes urged the matter no farther, be- sause his former counsels had proved unfortunate. And he was more willing to submit, because he ww others persuaded that it was the dependence Nicias had on his correspondence in the town which made him so strongly oppose their return to Athens. But as fresh forces came to the assis- tance of the Syracusans, and the sickness prevailed more and more in the Athenian camp, Nicias himself altered his opinion, and ordered the troops to be ready to embark. Everything accordingly was prepared for em- barkation, and the enemy paid no attention to these movements because they did not expect them. But in the night there happened an eclipse of the moon, at which Nicias and all the rest were struck with a great panic; either through igno- rance or superstition. As for an eclipse of the sun, which happens at the conjunction, even the common people had some idea of its being caused by the interposition of the moon; but they could not easily form a conception, by the interposition of what body the moon, when at the full, should suddenly lose her light, and assume such a variety of colors. They looked upon it, therefore, as a strange and preternatural phenomenon, a sign by which the gods announced some great calamity. Anaxagoras was the first, who, with any clear- ness and certainty showed in what manner the moon was illuminated and overshadowed. But he was an author of no antiquity,* nor was his treatise much known, it was confined to a few hands, and communicated with caution and under the seal of secrecy. For the people had an aver- sion to natural philosophers and those who were then called Meteorolescha (inquirers into the nature of meteors'), supposing that they injured the divine power and providence, by ascribing things to in- sensate causes, unintelligent powers, and inevita- ble necessity. Protagoras was forced to fly on. account of such a system; and Anaxagoras was thrown into prison, from whence Pericles with great difficulty got him delivered. Even Socra- tes,f who meddled not with physics, lost his life for philosophy. At last, the glory of Plato enlight- ened the world, and his doctrine was generally received, both on account of his life, and his sub- jecting the necessity of natural causes to a more powerful and divine principle. Thus he removed all suspicion of impiety from such researches, and brought the study of mathematics into fashion. Hence it was that his friend Dion, though the moon was eclipsed at the time of his going from Zacynthus against Dionysius, was not in the least disconcerted, but pursued his voyage, and expelled the tyrant. It was a great unhappiness to Nicias, that he had not with him then an able diviner. Stilbides, whom he employed on such occasions, and who used to lessen the influence of his superstition, died a little before. Supposing the eclipse a pro- digy, it could not, as Phiiochorus observes, be in- auspicious to those who wanted to fly, but or, the contrary, very favorable; for whatever is transact- ed with fear, seeks the shades of darkness; light is the worst enemy. Beside, on other occasions, as AuticlidesJ remarks, in his Commentaries, there were only three days that people refrained from business after an eclipse of either sun or moon; whereas Nicias wanted to stay another entire revo- lution of the moon, as if he could not see her He was contemporary with Pericles, and with Ni- cias too; for he died the first year of the eighty-eighth Olym- piad, and Nicias was killed the fourth year of the ninety- " st. t Socrates tells us, in his Apology, that he had been ac- cused of a criminal curiosity, in prying into the heavens and into the abysses of the earth. However, he could not be said to lose his life for his philosophy, so much as for his theology. t This should probably be read Anticlides: for he seems to be the same person whom Plutarch has mentioned in tue life of Alexander, and in his Isis and Osiris. 856 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ea bright as ever, the moment she passed the sha- dow caused by the interposition of the earth. He quitted', however, almost every other care, and sat still observing his sacrifices, until the enemy came upon him, and invested his walls and intrenchments with their land forces, as well as circled the harbor with their fleet. Not only the men from the ships, but the very boys from fishing-boats and small barks, challenged the Athenians to come out, and offered them every kind of insult. One of these boys, named Hera- elides, who was of one of the best families in Syra- cuse, advancing too far, was pursued by an Athenian vessel, and very near being taken. His uncle Pollichus, seeing his danger, made up with ten galleys which were under his command; and others, in fear for Pollichus, advanced to support him. A sharp conflict ensued, in which the Syracusans were victorious, and Eurymedon and numbers more were killed. The Athenians not brooking any farther delay, with great indignation, called upon their generals to lead them off by land. For the Syracusans, immediately after the victory, blocked up the har- bor. Nicias, however, would not agree to it; thinking it a cruel thing to abandon so many ships of burden and near two hundred galleys. He therefore embarked his best infantry, and a select number of archers and spearmen, and man- ned with them a hundred and ten galleys, as far as his rowers would supply him. The rest of his troops he drew up on the shore; abandoning his great camp and his walls which reached to the temple of Hercules. The Syracusans had not for a long time offered the usual sacrifices to that deity, but now both the priests and generals went to observe the solemnity. Their troops were embarked; and the inspectors of the entrails promised the Syracusans a glorious victory, provided they did not begin the attack, but only repelled force with force. For Hercules, they said, was victorious only in standing upon the defensive, and waiting to be attacked. Thus instructed, the Syracusans set out. Then the great sea-fight began; remarkable not only for the vigor that was exerted but for its causing as great a variety of passion and agitation in the spectators as in the combatants themselves. For those who looked on from the shore could discern every different and unexpected turn it took. The Athenians suffered not more harm from the enemy than they did from their own order of battle and the nature of their armament. Their ships were all crowded together, and were heavy and unwieldy beside, while those of the enemy were so light and nimble, that they could easily change their situation, and attack the Athe- nians on all sides. Add to this, that the Syracu- sans were provided with a vast quantity of stones which seldom failed of their effect wherever dis- charged: and the Athenians had nothing to oppose to them but darts and arrows, the flight of which was so diverted by the motion of the ship, that few of them could reach their mark. The enemy was put upon this expedient by Ariston the Corin- thian, who, after he had .given great proofs of his courage and ability, fell the moment that victory was declaring for the Syracusans. After this dreadful defeat and loss, there was no possibility of escaping by sea. At the same time the Athenians saw it was extremely difficult to save themselves by land. In this despair they neither opposed the enemy who were seizing their vessels elose to the shore, nor demanded their dead. They thought it not so deplorable a cir- cumstance to leave the dead without burial, as to abandon the sick and wounded. And though they had great miseries before their eyes, they looked upon their own case as still more unhappy, since they had many calamities to undergo, and were to meet the same fate at last. They did, however, design to begin their march in the night. Gylippus saw the Syracusans em- ployed in sacrifices to the gods, and in entertain- ing their friends on account of the victory, and the feast of Hercules, and he knew that neither entreaty nor force would prevail with them to leave the joys of festivity, and oppose the enemy's flight. But* Hermocrates found out a method to impose upon Nicias. He sent persons in whom he could confide, who were to pretend that they came from the old correspondents of that gent- within the town; and that their business Mjjjj^ desire him not to march in the night, because ths Syracusans had laid several ambushes for him and seized all the passes. The stratagem had its effect. Nicias sat still, in the simplicity of his heart, fearing he should really fall into the ene- my's snares. In the morning the enemy got out before him. Then indeed they did seize all the difficult passes; they threw up works against the fords, broke down the bridges, and planted their cavalry wherever the ground was open and even; so that the Athenians could not move one step without fighting. These poor men lay close all that day and the night following, and then began their march with tears and loud lamentations; as if they had been going to quit their native country, not that of the enemy. They were, indeed, in great want of provisions, and it was a miserable circumstance to leave their sick and wounded friends and com- rades behind them; yet they looked upon their present misfortunes as small in comparison of those they had to expect. But among the various spectacles of misery, there was not one more pitiable than Nicias him- self: oppressed as he was with sickness, and unworthily reduced to hard diet and a scanty provision, when his infirmities required a liberal supply. Yet in spite of his ill health, he acted and endured many things which the most robust underwent not without difficulty. All this while his troops could not but observe, it was not for his own sake, or any attachment to life, he sub- mitted to such labors, but that he seemed still to cherish hope on their account. When sorrow and fear brought others to tears and complaints, if Nicias ever dropped a tear among the rest, it was plain he did it from a reflection on the miser- able and disgraceful issue of the war, which he hoped to have finished with great honor and suc- cess. Nor was it only the sight of his present misery that moved them, but when they recol- lected the speeches and warnings by which he endeavored to dissuade the people from the ex- pedition, they could not but think his lot much more unhappy than he deserved. All their hopes, too, of assistance from Heaven abandoned them, when they observed that so religious a man as Nicias, one who had thought no expense too great in the service of the gods, had no better fortune than the meanest and most profligate person in the army. Notwithstanding all these difficulties, he still endeavored, by the tone of his voice, by his looks, and every expression of kindness to the soldiers, * Hermocrates was sensible of what importance it waa to prevent Nicias from retiring by land. With an army of forty thousand men, which he had still left, he might hav fortified himself in some part of Sicily, and renewed th war. NICI AS. 357 tc show himself superior to his misfortunes. Nay. through a march of eight days, though at- tacked and harassed all the way by the enemy, he preserved his own division of the army tolerably entire; until Demosthenes was taken prisoner, and the troops lie had the conduct of were surrounded, after a brave resistance, at a small place called Polyzelium. Demosthenes then drew his sword and stabbed himself, but as the enemy came im- mediately upon him and seized him, he had not time to give himself the finishing stroke. Some Syracusans rode up to Nicias with this news, and he sent a few of his own cavalry to know the certainty. Finding, from their account, that Demosthenes and his party were really pri- Hiers, he begged to treat with Gylippus, and id hostages for paying the Syracusans the le charge of the war, on condition they would suffer the Athenians to quit Sicily. The Syra- cusans rejected the proposals with every mark of insolence ami outrage, and fell again upon a wretched man, who was in want of all manner of necessaries.* He defended himself, however, all that night, and continued his march the next day to the river Asinarus. The enemy galled his troops all the way, and, when they came to the banks of the river, pushed them in. Nay, some, impatient to quench their burning thirst, voluntarily plunged into the stream. Then followed a most cruel scene of blood and slaughter; the poor wretches being massacred as they were drinking. At last, Nicias threw himself at the feet of Gylippus, and said, " Gylippus, you should show some com- passion amidst your victory. I ask nothing for myself. What is life to a man, whose misfor- tunes are even proverbial? But, with respect to the other Athenians, methinks you should remem- ber that the chance of war is uncertain, and with what humanity and moderation they treated you, when they were victorious." Gylippns was somewhat affected both at the sight of Nicias, and at his speech. He knew the good offices he had done the Lacedaemonians at the last treaty of peace; and he was sensible it would contribute greatly to his honor, if he could take two of the enemy's generals prisoners. Therefore, raising Nicias from the ground, he bade him take courage; and gave orders that the other Athenians should have quarter. But as the order was slowly communicated, the number of those that were saved was greatly inferior to that of the slain; though the soldiers spared seve- ral unknown to their officers. When the Syracusans had collected all the pri- soners they could find into one body, they dressed some of the tallest and straightest trees that grew by the river, us trophies, with the arms they had taken from the enemy. After which they inarch- ed homeward, with garlands on their heads, and with their horses adorned in the most splendid manner; having first shorn those of the Athenians. Thus they entered the city, as it were in triumph, after the happy termination of the sharpest dispute that ever subsisted between Grecians, and one of the most complete victories the sun ever beheld, gained by a glorious and persevering exertion of firmness and valor. A general assembly of the people of Syracuse and of its allies was then held, in which" Eury- clesf the orator proposed a decree, " That, in the * But were these brave people to blame? Was it not nat- ural for them to use ever/ means in their power to harass and weaken an enemy, who had ambitiously considered their country as a property"? t Diodorus Siculus call* him Diocles. first place, the day they took Nicias should be ob- served as a festival, with the title of Asinaria, from the river where that great event took place, and that it should be entirely employed in sacrifices to the gods." This was the twenty-seventh day of the month Carneus, called by the Athenians Metagit- nion.* " As to the prisoners, he proposed, that the Athenian servants and all the allies should be sold for slaves; that such of the Athenians as were free- men, and the Sicilians their partisans, should be confined to the quarries; and that the generals should be put to death." As the Syracusans ac- cepted the bill, Hermocrates rose up and said, " It was a more glorious thing to make a good use of a victory than to gain one." But his motion raised a great ferment in the assembly. Gylippus expressing his desire to have the Athenian gene- rals, that he might carry them prisoners to Lace- dsemon, the Syracusans, now grown insolent with their good fortune, loaded him with reproaches. Indeed, they could not well bear his severity and Lacedaemonian rigor in command, while the war lasted. Beside, as Timaeus observes, they had dis- covered in him an avarice and meanness, which was a disease he inherited from his father Clean - drides, who was banished for taking of bribes. The son, out of the thousand talents which Lysan- der sent by him to Sparta, purloined thirty, and hid them under the tiles of his house. Being de- tected in it, he fled his country with the utmost disgrace; as we have related more at large in the life of Lysander. Timaeus does not agree with Philistus and Thu- cydides, that Demosthenes and Nicias were ston- ed to death by the Syracusans. Instead of that, he tells us that Hermocrates sent one of his peo- ple to acquaint those two generals with what was passing in the assembly, and the messengers being admitted by the guards before the court was dis- missed, the unhappy men dispatched themselves. Their bodies were thrown without the gates, and lay there exposed to the view of all those who wanted to enjoy the spectacle. I am informed that a shield, said to be that of Nicias, is shown to this day in one of the temples at Syracuse; the exterior texture of which is gold and purple, and executed with surprising art. As to the other Athenians, the greatest part per- ished in the quarries to which they were confin- ed, by diseases and bad diet; for they were allow- ed only a pint of barley a da}', and half a pint of water. Many of those who were concealed by the soldiers, or escaped by passing as servants, were sold for slaves, and stigmatized with the figure of a horse upon their foreheads. Several of these, however, submitted to their fate with patience; and the modesty and decency with which they behaved were such, that they were ither soon released, or treated in their servitude with great respect by their masters. Some there were who owed their preservation to Euripides. Of all the Grecians, his was th muse whom the Sicilians were most in love with From every stranger that landed in their island, they gleaned every small specimen or portion of lis works, and communicated it with pleasure to each other. It is said that on this occasion a number of Athenians, upon their return home, went to Euripides, and thanked him in the most respectful manner for their obligations to his pen; some having been enfranchised for teaching their * Though it is not easy, as we have observed in a former note, to bring the Grecian months to accord with ours, yet we agree in this place with Dacier, that September is prob- ably meant, or part of it; because Plutarch had said abort that the sickness had set in with autumn. 358 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. mastors what they remembered of his poems, and others having got refreshments when they were wandering about after the battle, for singing a few of his verses. Nor is this to be wondered at, since they tell us, that when a ship from Caunus, which happened to be pursued by pirates, was going to take shelter in one of their ports, the Si- cilians at first refused to admit her; upon asking the crew whether they knew any of the verses of Euripides, and being answered in the affirmative, they received both them and their vessel. The Athenians, we are told, did not give credit to the first news of this misfortune; the person who brought it not appearing to deserve their no- tice. It seems, a stranger who landed in the PiraB- us, as he sat to be shaved in a barber's shop, spoke of it as an event already known to the Athenians. The barber no sooner heard it, but, before the stranger could communicate it to any other person, he ran into the city; and applying to the magistrates, informed them of the news in open court. Trouble and dismay seized all that heard it. The magistrates immediately summon- ed an assembly, and introduced the informant. There he was "interrogated, of whom he had the intelligence; and, as he could give no clear and pertinent answer, he was considered as a forger of false news and a public incendiary.* In this light he was fastened to the wheel, where he bore the torture for some time, until at length some credible persons arrived, who gave a distinct ac- count of the whole disaster. With so much diffi- culty did the misfortunes of Nicias find credit among the Athenians, though he had often forewarned them that they would certainly hap- pen. MARCUS CHASSUS. MARCUS CRASSUS, whose father had borne the office of censor, and been honored with a tri- umph, was brought up in a small house with his two brothers. These married while their parents were living, and they all ate at the same table. This, we may suppose, contributed not a little to ren- der him sober and moderate in his diet. Upon the death of one of his brothers, he took the widow and children into his house. With respect to women, there was not a man in Rome more reg- ular in his conduct; though, when somewhat ad- vanced in years, he was suspected of a criminal commerce with one of the vestal virgins named Liciuia. Licinia was impeached by one Plotinus, but acquitted upon trial. It seems the vestal had a beautiful country-house, which Crassus want- ing to have at an under-price, paid his court to the lady with great assiduity, and thence fell un- der that suspicion. His judges, knowing that avarice was at the bottom of all, acquitted him of the charge of corrupting the vestal: and he never let her rest until she had sold him her house. The Romans say, Crassus had only that one vice of avarice, which cast a shade upon his many vir- tues. He appeared, indeed, to have but one bad quality, because it was so much stronger and more powerful than the rest, that it quite obscur- ed them. His love of money is very evident from the size of his estate, and his manner of raising it. At first it did not exceed three hun- dred talents. But, during his public employ- ments, after he had consecrated the tenth of his substance to Hercules, given an entertainment to the people, and a supply of bread-corn to each citizen for three months, he found, upon an exact computation, that he was master of seven thou- sand one hundred talents. The greatest part of this fortune, if we may declare the truth, to his extreme disgrace, was gleaned from war and from fires; for he made a traffic of the public calami- ties. When Sylla had taken Rome, and sold the estates of those whom he had put to death, which he both reputed and called the spoils of his ene- mies, he was desirous to involve all persons of consequence in his crime, and he found in Cras- sus a man who refused no kind of gift or pur- chase. Crassus observed also, how liable the city was to fires, and how frequently houses fell down; which misfortunes were owing to the weight of the buildings, and their standing so close togeth- er.f In consequence of this, he provided him- self with slaves who were carpenters and masons, and went on collecting them until he had upward of five hundred. Then he made it his business to buy houses that were on fire, and others that joined upon them; and he commonly had them at a low price, by reason of the fears and distress the owners were in about the event. Hence, in time, he became master of a great part of Rome. But though he had so many workmen, he built no more for himself than one house in which he lived. For he used to say, " That those who love building will soon ruin themselves, and need no other enemies." Though he had several silver mines, and lands of great value, as well as laborers who turned them to the best advantage, yet it may be truly asserted, that the revenue he drew from these was nothing in comparison of that produced by his slaves. Such a number had he of them, and all useful in life, readers, amanuenses, book-keepers, stewards, and cooks. He used to attend to their education, and often gave them lessons himself; esteeming it a principal part of the business of a master to inspect and take care of his servants, whom he considered the living instruments of economy. In this he was certainly right, if he thought, as he often said, that other matters should be managed by servants, but the servants by the master. Indeed, economists, so far as they regard only inanimate things, serve only the low purposes of gain: but where they regard human beings, tlfey rise- higher, and form a considerable branch of politics. He was wrong, however, in saying, that no man ought to be esteemed rich, who could not with his own revenue maintain an army. For as Archidamus observes, it never can be calculated what such a monster as war will Casaubon would infer from hence, that the Athenians had a law for punishing the forgers of false news. But this person was punished not so much as a forger of false news, as a public incendiary, who, by exciting groundless teriois in the people, aided and abetted their enemies. t The streets were narrow and crooked, and the housei chiefly of wood, after the Gauls had burneu the city. MARCUS CRASSUS. 359 devour. Nor consequently can it be determined what fortune is sufficient for its demands. Very different in this respect were the sentiments of Crassus from those of Marius. When the latter had made a distribution of lands among his sol- diers at the rate of fourteen acres a man, and found they wanted more, he said, "I hope no Ro- man will ever think that portion of land too little which is sufficient to maintain him." It must be acknowledged that Crassus behaved in a generous manner to strangers; his house was always open to them. To which we may add, that he used to lend money to his friends without interest. Nevertheless his rigor in demanding his money the very day it was due, often made his appearing favor a greater inconvenience than the paying of interest would have been. As to his invitations, they were most of them to the com- monalty; and though there was a simplicity in the provision, yet at the same time there was a neatness and unceremonious welcome, which made it more agreeable than more expensive ta- bles. As to his studies, he cultivated oratory, most particularly that of the bar, which had its supe- rior utility. And though he might not be reck- oned equal, upon the whole, to the first rate speakers, yet by his care and application, he ex- ceeded those whom nature had favored more. For there was not a cause, however unimportant, to which he did not come prepared. Beside, when Pornpey, Caesar, and Cicero, refused to speak, he often rose and finished the argument in favor of the defendant. This attention of his to assist any unfortunate citizen, was a very popular thing; and his obliging manner in his common address had an equal charm. There was not a Roman, however mean and insignificant, whom he did not salute, or whose salutation he did not re- turn by name. His knowledge of history is also said to have been extensive, and he was not without a taste of Aristotle's philosophy. In the latter branch he was assisted by a philosopher named Alexander;* a man who gave the most glorious proofs of his disinterested and mild disposition, during his ac- quaintance with Crassus. For it is not easy to say, whether his poverty was greater when he en- tered, or when he left his house. He was the only friend that Crassus would take with him into the country; on which occasions he would lend him a cloak tor the journey, but demand it again when he returned to Rome. The patience of that man is truly admirable, particularly if we consider that the philosophy he professed did not look upon poverty as a thing indifferent, f But this was a later circumstawce in the life of Crassus. When the faction of China and Marius prevail- ed, it soon appeared that they were not returning for any benefit to their country, but for the ruin and destruction of the nobility. Part of them they had already caught and put to death; among whom were the father and brother of Cras- sus. Crassus himself, who was then a very young man, escaped the present danger. But, as he saw the tyrants had their hunters beating about for him on all sides, he took three friends and ten servants with him, and fled with surprising expe- dition into Spain; where he had attended his father during his praetorship, and gained himself * Xylander conjectures this might be Alexander the Mi- lesianj who is called Polyhistor and Cornelius; and who is said to have flourished in the times of Sylla. t Aristotle's, as well as Plato's philosophy, reckoned riches among real blessings, and looked upon them as con- dv.uive to virtue. friends. There, too, he found the minds of men full of terror, and all trembling at the cruelty of Marius, as if he had been actually present; there- fore, he did not venture to apply to any of his friends in public: Instead of that, he went into a. farm which Vibius Pacianus had contiguous to the sea and hid himself in a spacious cave there. From thence he sent one of his servants to sound Vibius; for his provisions already began to fail. Vibius, delighted to hear that he had escaped, in- quired the number of people he had with him, and the place of his retreat. He did not wait on him in person, but sent immediately for the steward of that farm, and ordered him to dress a supper every day, carry it to the foot of the rock, and then re- tire in silence. He charged him not to be curious in examining into the affair, under pain of death; and promised him his freedom, if he proved faith- ful in his commission. The cave is at a small distance from the sea. The surrounding rocks which form it, admit only a slight and agreeable breath of air. A little be- yond the entrance, it is astonishingly lofty, and the compass of it is so great, that it has several large caverns, like a suit of rooms, one within another. It is not destitute either of water or light. A spring of excellent water flows from the rock; and there are small cultural apertures, where the rocks approach each other at top, through which day-light is admitted. By reason of the thickness of the rock, the interior air too is pure and clear; the foggy and moist part of it being carried away with the stream. Crassus, in this asylum, had his provisions brought every day by the steward, who neilh&r saw nor knew him or his people, though he was seen by them, because they knew his time and watched for his coming. And he brought not only what was sufficient for use, but delicacies, too, for pleasure. For Vibius had determined to treat his friend with all imaginable kindness. He reflected that some regard should be had to his time of life, and as he was very young, that he should have some particular indulgences on that account. To supply his necessities only, he thought, looked more like constraint than friend- ship. Therefore, one day he took with him two handsome maid-servants, and walked toward the sea. When they came to the cave, he showed them the entrance, and bid them go boldly in, for they had nothing to fear. Crassus, seeing them, was afraid his retreat was discovered, and began to examine who they were, and what they wanted. They answered as they were instructed, " That they were come to seek their master who lay con- cealed there." Upon which, he perceived, it was only a piece of gallantry in Vibius, who studied to divert him. He received the damsels, there- fore, and kept them all the time he stayed there; and they served to carry his messages to Vibius, and to bring answers back. Fenestella, says,* he saw one of them when she was very old, and often heard her tell the story with pleasure. Crassus spent eight months in this privacv, at the end of which he received intelligence that Cinna was dead. Then he immediately made his appearance, and numbers repaired to him; out of which he selected a corps of two thousand five hundred men. With these ho visited the cities; and most historians agree that he pillaged one called Malacca. But others tell us, he absolutely * Fenestella wrote several books of annals He mifjht very well have seen one of these slaves when she was o'ld; for he did not die until the sixth year of the reign of Tibe- rius, nor until he was seventy years of age. SCO PLUTARCH'S LIVES. denied it, and disclaimed the thing in the face of those who spread the report. After this, he col- lected vessels, and passed over into Africa, to join Metellus Pius, an officer of great reputation, who had raised considerable forces. He did not, how- ever, stay long there. Upon some difference with Meteiius, he applied himself to Sylla, who received him with pleasure, and ranked him among his principal friends. When Sylla was returned to Italy, he chose to keep the young men he had about him in exer- cise, and sent them upon various commissions. Crassus he dispatched to levy troops among the Marsi; and, as his passage lay through the enemy's country, he demanded guards of Sylla. "I give thee for guards," said lie in an angry tone, " I give thee for guards, thy father, thy brother, thy Iriends, thy relations, who have been unjustly and abominably sacrificed, and whose cause I am going to revenge upon their murderers." Crassus, roused and inflamed with these words, passed boldly through the midst of the enemy; raised a considerable army, and showed his attach- ment, as well as exerted his courage, in all Sylla's conflicts. Hence, we are told, came his first com- Eetition and dispute with Pompey for the palm of onor. Pompey Was the younger man, and had this great disadvantage beside, that his father was more hated than any man in Rome. Yet his genius broke forth with such luster on these occa- sions, that Sylla treated him with more respect than he generally showed much older men, or even those of his own rank. For he used to rise up at his approach, and uncover his head, and salute him as Imperator. Crassus was not a little piqued at these things, though there was no reason for his pretensions. He had not the capacity of Pompey; beside his innate blemishes, his avarice and meanness, robbed his actions of all their grace and dignity. For instance, when he took the city of Tuder, in Um- bria, he was supposed to have appropriated the greatest part of the plunder to his own use, and it was represented in that light to Syila. It is true in the battle fought near Rome, which was the greatest and most decisive of all. Sylla was worsted, his troops repulsed, and a number of them killed. Meantime, Crassus, who com- manded the right wing, was victorious, and having pursued the enemy until night, sent to inform Sylla of his success, and to demand re- freshments for his men. But in the time of the proscriptions and confis- cations, he lost all the credit he had gained; buy- ing great estates at an under-price, and often begging such as he had cast his eye upon. Nay, in the country of the Brutians, he is said to have proscribed one man without Sylla's order, merely to seize his fortune. Upon this, Sylla gave him up, and never after employed him in any public affair. Though Crassus was an exquisite flatterer him- self, yet no man was more easily caught by flat- tery than he. And what was very particular, though he was one of the most covetous men in the world, no man was more averse to, or more severe against, such as resembled him.* But it gave him still more pain to see Pompey so suc- cessful in all his employments, to see him honored with a triumph, and saluted by the citizens with * It was observed by the late ingenious Mr. Shenstone, that a coxcomb will be the first to find out and expose a coxcomb. Men of the same virtues love eacli other for the fcake of those virtues; but sympathy in vice or folly has gen- erally a contrary effect. the title of the Great. One day he happened to be told "Pompey the Great was coming;" upon which he answered with a scornful smile, "How big is he? " As he despaired of rising to an equality with him in war, he betook himself to the administra- tion; and by paying his court, by defending the im- peached, hy lending money, and by assisting and canvassing for persons who stood for offices, Ire gained an authority and influence equal to that which Pompey acquired by his military achieve- ments. There was something remarkably peculiar in their case. The name and interest of Pompey were much greater in Rome, when he was absent* and distinguishing himself in the field. When present, Crassus often carried his point against him. This must be imputed to the state and grandeur that he affected: lie seldom showed him- self in public, or appeared in the assemblies of tlie people, and he very rarely served those who made application to him; imagining by that means he should have his interest entire when he wanted it himself. Crassus, on the contrary, had his ser- vices ever ready for those who wanted them; he constantly made his appearance; he was easy of access; his life was spent in business and good offices; so that his open and obliging manner go! the better of Pompey's distance and slate. As to dignity of person, powers of persuasion, and engaging turn of countenance, we are told they were the same. But the emulation with which Crassus was actuated never carried him on to hatred and malignity. It is true, he was con- cerned to see Pompey and Ca3sar held in greater honor, but he did not add rancor and malevolence to his ambition; though Ca3sar, when he was taken by pirates, in Asia, and strictly confined, cried out, " Crassus, what pleasure will it give thee to hear that I am taken!" However, they were afterward upon a footing of friendship; and when Csesar was going to set out for his command in Spain, and his creditors were ready to seize hia equipage, because lie could not satisfy them, Crassus was kind enough to deliver him from the embarrassment, by giving security for eight hun- dred and thirty talents. Rome was at this time divided into three par- ties, at the head of which were Pompey, Caasar, and Crassus. For, as to Cato, his reputation was greater than his power, and his virtue more admir- d than followed. The prudent and steady part of the city, were for Pompey; the violent and tire enterprising gave into the prospects of Csesar; Crassus steered a middle course, and availed him- self of both. Crassus, indeed, often changed sides, and neither was a firm friend, nor an impla- cable enemy. On the contrary, he frequently gave up either his attachments or resentments in- differently when his interest required it: inso- much that in a short space of time, he would ap- pear either in support or opposition to the same persons and laws. He had some influence found- ed in love, and some in fear: but fear was the more serviceable principle of the two. An in- stance of the latter we have in Licinius, who wa very troublesome lo the magistrates and leading orators of his time. When he was asked why he did not attack Crassus among the rest, he an- swered, "He wears wisps upon his horns."f So the Romans used to serve a vicious bull, for a warning to all persons that passed him. When the gladiators took up arms and ravaged * This was not peculiar to Pompey: it was the case oi Marius and many others. t This passed into a provero. MARCUS CRASSUS. 361 Italy, their insurrection was commonly called the war of Spartacus. Its origin was this : One Lentulus Batiatus kept at Capua a number of gladiators, the greatest part of which were Gauls al.d Thracians; men not reduced to that employ- ment for any crimes they had committed, but forced upon it by the injustice of their master. Two hundred of them, tln-'refore, agreed to make their escape. Though the plot was discovered, three- score and eighteen of them, by their extreme vig- ilance, were beforehand with their master, and sallied out of town, having first seized all the long knives and spits in a cook's shop. On the roan they met some wagons carrying a quantity of gladiators' arms to another place. These they seized, and armed themselves with them. Then they retired to a place of strength, antf made choice of three leaders.* The first was Sparta- cus, whose extraction was from one of those Thracian hordes called Nomades. This man had not only a dignity of mind, a strength of body, but a discernment: and civility superior to his for- tune. In short, he was more of a Greek than a barbarian in his manner. It is said, that when he was first brought to Rome to be sold, a serpent was seen twisted about his face as he slept. His wife, who was of the same tribe, having the gift of divination, and be- ing a retainer beside to the orgies of Bacchus, said, it was a sign that he would rise to some- thing very great and formidable, the result of which would be happy. f This woman still lived With him, and was the companion of his flight. The fugitives first distinguished themselves by defeating a party sent against them from Capna; whose arms they seized and wore with great satis- faction; throwing away those of gladiators, as dishonorable and barbarous. Clodius the praetor}: was then sent against them from Rome, with a body of three thousand men; and he besieged them on the hill where they were posted. There was but one ascent, which was very narrow and rugged, and there he placed a sufficient guard. The rest was all a craggy precipice, but covered with wild vines. The fugitives cut off such of the branches as might be of most service, and formed them into a ladder of sufficient strength, and so long as to reach the- plain be- neath. By the help of this ladder they all got down safe, except one. This man remained above only to let down their arms; and when he had done that, he descended after thorn. The Romans knowing nothing of this maneu- ver, the gladiators came upon their rear, and at- tacked them so suddenly, that they fled in great consternation, and left their camp to the enemy. Spartacus was there joined by the herdsmen and shepherds of the country, men of great vigor, and remarkably swift of foot. Some of these he Clad in heavy armor, and the rest served as recon- noitering parties, and for other purposes of the light-armed. The next general sent against these gladiators was Publius Varinus. They first routed his lieu- tenant Furius, who engaged them with a detach- ment of two thousand men. After this Spartacus watched the motions of Cossinius, who was ap- pointed assistant and chief counselor to Varinus, and was now marching against him with a consid- erable force. His vigilance was such, that he * Spartacus, Chrisus, and ^Enomaus. This war began in Vbe year of Rome 080; before Christ 71. t His end was hsppy for a gladiator He died fighting fal'antdy at the head of his troops, 2 CiOdius "ilaber. was very near taking Cossinius in the bath at Sa- lenae; and though he did escape with much diffi- culty, Spartacus seized his baggage. Then he pursued his steps, and took his camp, having first killed great numbers of the Romans. Cossinius himself was among the slain. His subsequent op- erations were equally decisive. He beat Varinus in several engagements, and took his liclors, and the very horse he rode. By this time he was become great and formida- ble. Nevertheless his views were moderate: he had too much understanding to hope the conquest of the Romans: and therefore led his army to the Alps, with an intention to cross them, and then dismiss his troops, that they might retire to their respective countries, some to Thrace and some to Gaul. But they, relying upon their numbers, and elated with success, would not listen to his propo- posal. Instead of that, tliey laid Italy waste as they traversed it. It was no longer the indignity and disgrace of this revolt that afflicted the senate; it. was fear and danger: and they now employed both the consuls in this war, as one of the most diffi- cult and important they ever had upon their hands. Gelius, one of the consuls, having sur- prised a body of Germans, who were so rash and self-opinionated as to separate from the troops of Spartacus, defeated them entirely and put them to the sword. Lentulus, the other consul, en- deavored to surround Spartacus with his forces, which were very considerable. Spartacus met him fairly in the field, beat his lieutenants, and stripped them of their baggage. He then contin- ued his route toward the Alps, but was opposed by Cassius, who commanded in that part of Gaul which lay about the Po, and came against him at the head of ten thousand men. A battle ensued, in which Cassius was defeated, with great loss, and saved himself not without difficulty. No sooner were the senate informed of these miserable proceedings, than they expressed the greatest indignation against the consuls, and gave orders that they should be superseded in the command. Crassus was the person they pitched upon as a successor, and many of the nobility served under him, as volunteers, as well on ac- count of his political influence as from personal regard. He went and posted himself in the Pi- cene, in order to intercept Spartacus, who was to march that way. At the same time he sent his lieutenant Mummius round with two legions; giving him strict orders only to follow the enemy, and by no means to hazard either battle or skir- mish. Mummius, however, upon the first prom- ising occasion, engaged Spartacus, and was en- tirely routed. Numbers fell upon the field of battle, and many others threw away their arms, and fled for their lives. Crassus gave Mummius a severe reprimand, and new armed his men, but insisted withal that they should find security for their keeping those arms they were now intrusted with. The first five hundred, who had shown the greatest marks of cowardice, he divided into fifty parts, and put one in each decade to death, to whose lot it might happen to fall: thus reviving an ancient custom of military punishment which had been long dis- used. Indeed, this kind of punishment is the greatest mark of infamy, and being put in execu- tion in sight of the whole army, is attended with many awful and affecting circumstances. After thus chastising his men, he led them against the enemy. But Spartacus turned back and retired through Lucania to the sea. The rebel happening to find a number of vesseb in 862 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. harbor belonging to the Cilician pirates, resolved to make an attempt upon Sicily; where, at the head of two thousand men, he thought he could easily re-kindle the Servile war, which had but lately been smothered,* and which wanted little fuel to make it flame out again. Accordingly the pirates entered into agreement with him; but they had no sooner taken his money than they broke their engagement, and sailed another way. Spartacus, thus deceived, left the sea, and in- trenched himself in the peninsula of Rhegium. When Crassus came np, hu observed that the nature of the place suggested what measures he should take; in consequence of which he deter- mined to build a wall across the isthmus. This, he knew, would at once keep his soldiers from idleness, and cut off the enemy's supplies. The work WHS great and difficult: nevertheless he fin- ished it beyond all expectation, in a short time; drawing a trench from sea to sea three hundred furlongs in length, fifteen feet in breadth, and as many in depth; he built a wall also above it of considerable, hight and strength. Spartacus at first made, a jest of the undertak- ing. But when his plunder began to fail, and he wanted to gc farther, he saw the wall before him, and at the same time was conscious that the pen- insula was exhausted. Ho watched his opportu- nity, however, in a snowy and tempestuous nigh't, to fill up the trench with earth, wood and oilier materials; and so passed it with a third part of his army. Crassus now began to fear, that Spar- tacus, in the spirit of enterprise, would march immediately to Rome. But when he observed that a number of the enemy upon some difference or other, separated and encamped upon the Lucan- ian lake, he recovered his spirits. The water of this lake is said to change in such a manner, as some- times to be sweet and fresh, and at other times so salt, that it is impossible, to drink it. Crassus fell upon this party, and drove them from the lake, but could not do any great execution, or continue the pursuit far, because Spartacus made his ap- pearance, and rallied the fugitives. Crassus now repented of having written to the senate, that it was necessary to recall Lucullus from Thrace, and Pompey from Spain', and hastened to finish the war himself. For he was sensible that the general who should come to his assistance, would rob him of all the honor. He resolved, therefore, in I he first place, to attack the troops which had revolted, and formed a separate body, under the command of two officers named Canni- cius and Castus. With this view, he sent a corps of six thousand men before to seize an eminence which he thought would be of service to him, but ordered them to conduct their enterprise with all imaginable secrecy. They observed his direc- tions; and to conceal their march the better, cov- ered their helmets and the rest of their arms. Two women, however, who were sacrificing be- fore the enemy's camp, discovered them; and they would probably have met their fate, had not Cras- sus advanced immediately, and given the enemy battle. This was the most obstinate action in the whole war. Twelve thousand three hundred of the enemy were killed, of which number there were only two found wounded in the back; the. rest died in their ranks, after the bravest exer- tions of valor. Spartacus, after this defeat, retired toward the mountains of Petelia; and Quintus, one of Cras- sus's officers, and Scropha the quaestor, marched * It was but nineteen years before, that a period was put Vo the Servile war in Sicily. after to harass his rear. But Spartacus facing about, the Romans fled in the most dastardly man* ner, and with great difficulty carried off the qurestor, who was wounded. This success was the ruin of Spartacus. It gave the fugitives such spirits, that they would no longer decline a decis- ive action, or be obedient to their officers; but as they were upon the road, addressed them with their swords in their hands, and insisted on march- ing back through Lucania with the utmost expe- dition, to meet the Romans, and face Crassus ia the field. This was the very thing that Crassus desired. He was informed that Pompey was approaching"; and of the many speeches to the people on occa- sion of the ensuing election, in which it was as- serted, that this laurel belonged to him, and that, as soon as he made his appearance, he would, by some decisive stroke, put an end to the war. Crassus, therefore, hastened to give that stroke himself, and with the same view, encamped very near the enemy. One day when he had ordered his soldiers to dig a trench, the gladiators attacked them as they were at work. Numbers came up continually on both sides to support the combat- ants; and at last Spartacus seeing what the case necessarily required, drew out his whole army. When they brought him his horse, he drew his sword and killed him, saying at the same time, " If I prove victorious, I shall have horses at command; if I am defeated, I shall have no need of this." His aim was to find Crassus, and he made his way through showers of darts and heaps of the slain. He did not, indeed, reach him, but he killed with his own hand two centurions who ventured to engage him. At last, those that seconded him fled. He, however, still stood his ground, and though surrounded by numbers, fought with great gallantry, until he was cut in pieces. Crassus, on this occasion, availed himself of every circumstance with which fortune favored him; he performed every act of generalship; he exposed his person in the boldest manner; yet he was only wreathing a laurel for the brows of Pompny. Pompey met, it seems, those who es- caped out of the field, and put them to the sword. In consequence of which he wrote to the senate, " That Crassus had, indeed, beaten the fugitive gladiators in a pitched battle; but that it was he who had cut up the war by the roots." Pompey, on his return to Rome, triumphed in a magnificent manner for his conquest of Sertorius and Spain. As for Crassus, he did not pretend to ask for the greater triumph; and even the less, which is led up on foot, under the name of an ovation, seemed to have no propriety or decorum in the conquest of fugitive slaves. In what re- spects this differs from the other, and whence the term ovation is derived, we have considered in the Life of Marcellus. Pompey was immediately called to the consul- ship; and though Crassus had interest enough of his own to encourage him to hope for the same honor, yet he scrupled not to solicit his good offi- ces. Pompey received the application with pleas- ure; for he was desirous by all means to have Crassus under an obligation to him. He, there- fore, readily espoused his cause; and, at last, when he made his speech to the people, said. " he was as much indebted to them for the colleague they had given him as for their favor to himself." However, the same good understanding did not long continue; they differed about almost every article that came before them; and those disputes MARCUS CRASSUS. 363 and altercations prevented their doing anything | considerable during their whole consulship. Tlie most remarkable thing was, that Crassus offered a great sacrifice to Hercules, entertained the people at ten thousand tables, and gave them a supply of bread-corn for three months. When they held one of the last assemblies be- fore they quitted their charge, a Roman knight, named Onatius Aurelus, wlio had spent most of his time in a retired manner in the country, and was a man of no great note, mounted the rostrum, and gave the people an account of a vision that had appeared to him. "Jupiter," said he, "ap- peared to me in a dream, and commanded me to inform you in this public manner, that you are not to suffer the consuls to lay down their office before they are reconciled." He had no sooner ended his speech than the people insisted that they should be reconciled. Porapey stood without making any motion toward it, but Crassus went and offer- ed him his hand. "I am not ashamed, my fellow- citizens," said he, "nor do I think it beneath me, to make the first advances to Poiupey, whom youdistinguished with the name of Great, while he was but a beardless youth, and whom you honor- ed with a triumph before he was a senator." These were the only memorable tilings in the consulate of Crassus. As for his censorship, it passed without anything worth mentioning.* He made no inquisition into the lives and manners of the senators; he did not review the equestrian order, or number the people. Lutacius Catulus, one of the best natured men in the world, was his colleague; and it is said, that when Crassus wanted to adopt a violent and unjust measure, I mean the making of Egypt tributary to Rome,. Catulus strongly opposed it; and hence arose that difference, in consequence of which they resigned their charge. When the great conspiracy of Catiline, which brought the commonwealth to the verge of de- struction, broke out, Crassus was suspected of having some concern in it. Nay, there was one who named him among the conspirators; but no one gave credit to his information.f It is true, Cicero, in one of his orations, openly accuses both Crassus and Caesar of that crime. But that oration did not appear in public until both those great men were dead. On the other hand, the same Cicero, in the oration he delivered relating to his consulship, expressly says, that Crassus came to him one night, and put a letter in his hands, which showed the reality of the plot into which they were then inquiring. Be that as it may, it is certain that Crassus after this conceived a mortal hatred for Cicero, and would have shown it in some act of violence, had not his son Publius prevented it. Publius was a man of letters, and eloquence had a particular charm for him: hence his attachment to Cicero was so great, that when the bill for his banishment was proposed, lie went into mourning, and parsuaded the rest of the Ro- * He was censor six years after his consulship, sixty, three years before the birth of Christ. t Sallust says otheiwise. He tells us, it did appear in- credible to some, but others believed it. Yet, not thinking it advisable to exasperate a man of so much power, they joined his retainers, and those who owed him money, in crying it was a calumny, and in saying the senate ought to sxculpnte him; which, accordingly, they did. Some were of opinion, and Crassus himself among the rest, the inform- er was suborned by Cicero. But what end could Cicero have in accusing a man of his consequence, unless it were to alarm the senate and people the more with a sense of their danger? And what could Crassus propose to himself, in entering into a plot to burn the city in which his property j was so large 1 man youth to do the same. At last, he even pre- vailed with his father to be reconciled to him. About this time, Caesar returned from his go- vernment, to solicit the consulship. Finding Crassus and Pompey again at variance, he would not apply to either in particular, lest he should make the other his enemy; nor could he hope to succeed without the assistance of one of them. In this dilemma he determined, if possible, to effect a good understanding once more between them. For which purpose lie represented, " That, by leveling their artillery against each other, they raised the Ciceros, the Catuli, and the Catos; who would be nothing, if they were once real friends, and took care to act in concert. If that were the case," said he, " with your united interests and counsels you might carry all before you." These representations had their effect; and, bv joining himself to the league, he formed that in- vincible triumvirate which ruined the senate and people of Rome. Not that either Crassus or Pompey gained any advantage from their union; but Ciesar, by the help of both, climbed to the highest pinnacle of power. An earnest of this he had, in his being unanimously elected consul. And as he acquitted himself in his office with great honor, they procured him the command of armies, and decreed him the province of Gaul, where he was established, as in an impregnable castle. For, they imagined if they did but secure to him the province that was fallen to his lot, they might share the rest between them at their leisure. It was the immoderate love of power which led Pompey into this error. And Crassus to his old disease of avarice now added a new one. The achievements, the victories, and triumphs of CaBsar, raised in Crussus a passion for the same; and he could not be content to be beneath him in this respect, though he was so much superior in others. He therefore never let himself rest, until he met an inglorious fate, and involved his country in the most dreadful calamities. On Caesar's coming from Gaul to the city of Lucca, numbers went to wait upon him, and among the rest Crassus and Pompey. These, in their private conferences, agreed with him to carry matters with a higher hand, and to make them' selves absolute in Rome. For this purpose Cresar was to remain at the head of his army, and the other two chiefs to divide the rest of the provinces and armies between them. There was no way, however, to carry their scheme into execution, without suing for another consulship; in which Caesar was to assist by writing to his friends, and by sending a number of his soldiers to vote in the election. When Crassus and Pompey returned to Rome, their designs were very much suspected: and the general discourse was, that the late interview boded no good to the commonwealth. Hereupon, Marcellinus and Domitius* asked Pompey in full senate, "Whether he intended to solicit the con- sulship?" To which he answered, "Perhaps I may perhaps not." And upon their interrogat- ing him a second time, he said, "If I solicit it, I shall solicit it for men of honor, and not for men of a meaner principle." As this answer appeared to have too much of haughtiness and contempt, Crassus expressed himself with more moderation, "If it be for the public good, 1 shall solicit it if not, I shall forbear." By this some other candidates, and among the rest Domitius, were emboldened to appear; but aa soon as Crassus and Pompey declared themselves, Domitius ;Enobarbus. 364 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. the rest dropped their p ^tensions. Only Domi- tius was exharted and encouraged by his friend and kinsman Cato, " Not to abandon his prospects, but to stand boldly up for the liberties of his coun- try. As for Pompeyand Crassus," he said, "they wanted not the consulship, but absolute power; nor was it so much their aim to be chief magis- trates at home, as to seize the provinces, and to divide the armies between them." Cato having thus expressed his real sentiments, | drew Dornitius almost forcibly into the forum, \ and numbers joined them there. For they were | greatly surprised at this step of Crassus and Pom- | pey. "Why do they demand," said they, "a| second consulship? Why together? Why notj with others? Have we not many persons of j merit sufficient to entitle them to be colleagues with either Crassus or Pompey?" Pompey's party, alarmed at these speeches, threw oft' the mask, and adopted the most violent measures. Among other outrages, they waylaid j Domitius as he was going to the place of election before day, accompanied by his friends; killed the torch-bearer, and wounded many of his train, Cato among the rest. Then they shut then* all | up together until Crassus and Pompey were elected. I A little after this, they confined Dornitius to his j house, by planting armed men about it, drove j Cato out* of the forum, and killed several who made resistance. Having thus cleared the way, they continued Caesar in his government for five years more, and got Syria and both the Spains for their own provinces. Upon casting lots, Syria fell to Crassus, and the Spains to Pompey. The allotment was not disagreeable to the mul- j titude. They chose to have Pompey not far from ! Rome; and Pompey, who passionately loved hisj wife, was very glad of the opportunity to spend most of his time there. As for Crassus, as soon as it appeared that Syria was his lot, he discovered the greatest joy, and considered it as the principal happiness of his life; insomuch that even before strangers and the populace he could hardly restrain his transports. To his intimate friends he opened himself more freely, expressing the most sanguine. | hopes and indulging in vain elevations of heart, unsuitable to his age and disposition: for in gene- ral he was far from \>eing pompous or inclined to vanity. But now extravagantly elated and cor- rupted by his flattering prospects, he considered not Syria and the Parthians as the termination of his good fortune; but intended to make the ex- pedition of Lucullus against Tigranes, and of Pompey against Mithridates, appear only the sports of children. His design was to penetrate j to the Bactrians, the Indians, the eastern ocean, and in his hopes he had already swallowed up the east. In the law relating to the government of Cras- sus, no mention was made of a war in its neigh- borhood; but all the world knew Crassus had an eye to it. And Caesar, in the letter he wrote toi him from Gaul, commended his design, and en- j couraged him to attack the Parthians. But when he was going to set out, Ateius, one of the tri-l bunes, threatened to stop him, and numbers join- ed the tribune's party. They could not without indignation think of his going to begin hostilities against a people who had done them no injury, and were in fact their allies. Crassus, alarmed at this, desired Pompey to conduct him out of Rome. He knew the dignity of Pompey, and the venera- tion the populace had for him: and on this occa- sion, though many were prepared to withstand Crassus, and to raise a clamor against him, yet when they saw Pompey marching before him with an open and gay countenance, they dropped their resentment, and made way in silence. Ateius, however, advanced to meet him. In the first place, by the authority of his office he commanded him to stop, and protester against his enterprise. Then he ordered one of his officers to seize him. But the other tribunes interposing, the officer let Crassus go. Ateius now ran before to the gate, and placed there a censer with fire in it. At the approach of Crassus, he sprinkled in- cense upon it, offered libations, and uttered the most horrid imprecations, invoking at the same time certain dreadful and strange gods. The Ro- mans say, these mysterious and ancient impreca- tions have such power,* that the object of them never escapes their effect; nay, they add, that the person who uses them is sure to be unhappy,so that they are seldom used, and never but upon a great occasion. Ateius was much blamed for his rash zeal. It was for his country's sake that he was an adversary to Crassus, and yet it was his country he had laid under that dreadful curse. Crassus, pursuing his journey, carne to Bruii- dusium; and though the winter storms made the voyage dangerous, he put to sea, and lost a num- ber of vessels in his passage. As soon as he had collected the rest of his troops, he continued his route by land through Galatia. There he paid his respects to Deiotarus, who, though an old man, was building a new city. Crassus laughed, and said, "You begin to build at the twelfth hour of the day!" The king laughed in his turn, and answered, " You do not set out very early in the morning against the Parthians!" Crassus, indeed, was then above sixty years of age,t and he looked much older than he was. Upon his arrival in Syria, his affairs prospered at first according to his expectation. He threw a bridge over the Euphrates with ease, and his army passed over it without opposition. Many cities in Mesopotamia voluntarily received him; and one only stood upon its defense. The prince who governed it was named Apollonius. The Romans having lost about a hundred men before it, Crassus marched against it with all his forces, took it by assault, plundered it of everything valuable, and sold the inhabitants for slaves. The Greeks called that city Zenodotia.J Crassus, upon taking it, suffered his army to salute him Impera- tor; a thing which reflected no small disgrace upon him; it showed the meanness of his spirit, and his despair of effecting anything considerable, when he valued himself upon such a trifling acquisition After he had garrisoned the towns that had sub- mitted, with seven thousand foot and a thousand horse, he returned into Syria to winter. There he was joined by his son, whom Caesar had sent to him from Gaul, adorned with military honors, and at the head of a thousand select horse. Among the many errors which Crassus com- mitted in this war, the first, and none of the least, was his returning so soon into Syria. He ought to have gone forward and strengthened himself with the accession of Babylon and Seleucia, cities always at enmity with the Parthians : instead of which, he gave the enemy abundant time to prepare themselves. Beside, his occupations in Syria were greatly censured, having more of the trader in them than of the general. Instead of examining into the arms of his soldiers, keeping them in exercise, and improving their strength and * Dim detestatio Nulla expiatur victimi. Horace. t Crassns set out upon this expedition in tne year of Rome 099. t Zenodotia in the province of Osrhoene. MARCUS CRASSUS. 365 activity by proper rewards, he was inquiring into the revenues of the cities, and weighing the trea- sures in the temple of the goddess of Hierapolis.* And though he fixed the quotas of troops which the states and principalities were to furnish, lie let them off again for a sum of money ; which ex- posed him to the contempt of those whom lie excused. The first sign of his future fortune came from this very goddess, whom some call Venus, some Juno, others Nature, or that great principle which produces all things out of moisture, and instructs mankind in the knowledge of everything that is good. As they were going out of the temple, young Crassus stumbled and fell at the gate, and his father fell upon him. He was now drawing his troops out of winter quarters, when ambassadors came from Arsaces. mid addressed him in this short speech : " If this army was sent against the Parthians by the Roman people, that people has nothing to expect but per- petual war and enmity irreconcilable. But if Crassus, against the inclinations of his country, (which they were informed was the case,) to gratify his own avarice, lias undertaken this war, and in- vaded one of the Parthian provinces, Arsaces will act with more moderation. He will take compas- sion on Crassus's age, and let the Romans go, though in fact he considers them rather as in prison than in garrison." To this Crassus made no return but a rhodomontade ; he said, " He would give them his answer at Seleucia." Upon which, Vagises, the oldest of the ambassadors laughed : and turning up the palm of his hand, replied, "Crassus, here will hair grow before thou shalt see Seleucia." The ambassadors then returned to their king Orodes,f and told him he must prepare for war. Meantime some Romans escaped with difficulty from the city they garrisoned in Mesopotamia, and brought a very alarming account of the ene- my. They said, " they had been eye-witnesses to their immense numbers, and to their dreadful manner of fighting when they attacked the towns." And, as it is usual for fear to magnify its object, they added, " It is impossible either to escape them when they pursue, or to take them when they fly. They have a new and strange sort of arrows, which are swifter than lightning, and reach their mark before you can see they are discharged; nor are they less fatal in their effects than swift in their course. The offensive arms of their cavalry pierce through everything, and the defensive arms are so well tempered, that nothing can pierce them." The Roman soldiers were struck with this ac- count, and their courage began to droop. They had imagined that the Parthians were not differ- ent from the Armenians and Cappadocians, whom Lucullus had beaten and driven before him until he was weary; and consequently that the hardest part of the expedition would be the length of the way, and the trouble of pursuing men who would never stand an engagement. But now they found they had war and danger to look in the face"; * About twenty miles from the Euphrates, there was a city, known by the several names of Banibyce, Edessa, and Ilierapolis. By the Syrians it was called Magog. The goddess Atargatis was worshiped there with great devotion. Lucian mentions her temple as the richest in the world. t Here the king of Parthia is called Orodes, who before was called Arsaces. Arsaces was probably a name com- mon to the kings of that country, and Orodes the proper name of this prince. He was the son of Phraates the sec- ond, and made his way to the crown through the blood of hi* elder brother Mithridates. For this, he deservedly died the same kind of death. which they had not thought of: insomuch that sev- eral of the principal officers were of opinion that Crassus ought to stop, and call a council to con- sider whether new measures ought not to be taken. Of this number was Cassius the quasstor. Beside, the soothsayers whispered that the sacri- fices were not accepted by the goes, and the signs appeared always inauspicious to the general. However, he paid no attention to them, nor to any but those who were for hastening his march. He was the more confirmed in his intentions by the arrival of Artavasdes,* king of Armenia. That prince came with six thousand horse, which he said were only his body-guard. He promised Crassus ten thousand more, armed at all points, and thirty thousand foot, all to be maintained at his own expense. At the same time, he advised him to enter Parthia byway of Armenia, "By that means," said he, " you will not only have plenty of provisions, which I shall take care to supply you with; but your march will be safe, as it will lie along a chain of mountains, and a country almost impracticable for cavalry, in which the Parthian strength consists." Crassus received his tender of service and his noble offer of succors but coldly; and said, "H* should march through Mesopotamia, where he had left a num- ber of brave Romans." Upon this the Armenian bade him adieu, and returned to his own country. As Crassus was passing the Euphrates at Zeug- ma, he met with dreadful bursts of thunder, and lightnings flamed in the face of his troops. At the same time the black clouds emitted a hur- ricane, mingled with fire, which broke down and destroyed great part of his bridge. The place which he had marked out for a camp, was also twice struck with lightning. One of the general's war horses, richly caparisoned, running away with his rider, leaped into the river, and was seen no more. And it is said when the foremost eagle was moved, in order for a march, it turned back of its own accord. Beside these ill tokens, it hap- pened that when the soldiers had their provisions distributed, after they had crossed the river, they were first served with lentils and salt, which are reckoned ominous, and commonly placed upon the monuments of the dead. In a speech of Crassus to the army, an expression escaped him, which struck them all with horror. He said, " He had broken down the bridge, that not one of them might return." And when he ought, upon perceiving the impropriety of the expres- sion, to have recalled or explained it to the intimi- dated troops, his obstinacy would not permit him. To which we may add, that in the sacrifice offered for the lustration of the army, the aruspex having put the entrails in his hands, he let them fall. All that attended the ceremony were struck with astonishment; but he only said with a smile, "See what it is to be old! My sword, however, shall not slip out of my hands in this manner." Immediately after this he began his march along the side of the Euphrates, with seven le- gions, near four thousand horse, and almost as many of the light-armed. He had not gone far before some of his scouts returned, and told him they had not found so much as one man in their excursion, but that there were many vestiges of cavalry, who appeared to have fled as if they had been pursued. Crassus now began to be more sanguine in his hopes, and the soldiers to hold the enemy in con- * In the text, he is here called Anabases; but, as Pin- tnroli calls him Artavasdes everywhere afterward, we thought it proper to put it so here. 360 PLUTARCH'S LIVES tempt, upon a supposition that they durst not stand an encountei Nevertheless, Cassius ad- dressed himself to the general again, and advised him, "To secure his troops in some fortified town, until he should have some account of the enemy that might be depended upon. If he did not choose that, he desired him to keep along the river until he reached Seleucia: for by this means he would be constantly supplied with provisions from the vessels that would follow his camp; and the river preventing his being surrounded, he would always have it in his power to fight upon equal terms." While Crassus was weighing these counsels with much deliberation, there arrived an Arabian chief named Ariamnes.* This artful and perfidi- ous man was the principal instrument of all the calamities which fortune was preparing for the ruin of Crassus. Some of his officers, who had served under Pompey, knew how much Ariamnes was indebted to that general's favor, and that in consequence he passed for a well-wisher to the Romans. But now, gained by the Parthian offi- cers, he concerted with them a scheme to draw Crassus from the river and the higher grounds, into an immense plain, where he might easily be surrounded. For the enemy thought of nothing less than fighting a pitched battle with the Ro- mans. This barbarian, then, addressing himself to Crassus, at first launched out into the praises of Pompey as his benefactor, for he was a voluble and artful speaker. Then he expressed his ad- miration of so fine an army, but withal took oc- casion to blame Crassus for his delays, and the time he spent in preparing; as if weapons, and not rather active hands and feet, were required against a people, who had long been determined to retire with their most valuable effects, and with their families and friends, to the Scythians and Hyrcanians. " Or suppose you have to fight," said he, " you ought to hasten to the encounter, before the king recovers his spirits, and collects all his forces. At present he has only sent out Sure- n a and Sillaces to amuse you, and to prevent your pursuit of himself. For his part, he will take care not to appear in the field." This story was false in every circumstance. For Orodes had divided his army into two parts; with one of which he was ravaging Armenia, to wreak his vengeance upon Artavasdes; Surena was left with the other, to make head against the Romans. Not that the king (as some will have it) had any contempt for the Romans, for Cras- sus, one of the most powerful men Rome had produced, was not an antagonist whom he should despise, and think it a fairer field of honor to go and fight with Artavasdes, and lay waste Armenia. On the contrary, it is highly probable, it was in apprehension of danger which made him keep at a distance and watch the rising event; in order to which he sent Surena before him: to make trial of the enemy's strength, and to amuse them with his stratagems. For Surena was no ordinary person; but in fortune, family, and honor, the first after the king; and in point of courage and capacity, as well as in size and beauty, superior to the Parthians o^ his time. If he went only upon an excursion into the country, he had a thousand camels to carry his baggage, and "two hundred carriages for his concubines. He was attended by a thousand heavy-armed horse, and many more of the light-armed rode before him. Appian and Dion Cassius call him Acbarus or Ag- MfUS. Indeed, his vassals and slaves made up a body of cavalry little less than ten thousand. He had' the hereditary privilege in his family to put the dia dem upon the king's head when he was crowned. When Orodes was driven from the throne, he re- stored him; and it was he who conquered for him the great city of Seleucia, being the first to scale the wall, and beating off the enemy with his own hand. Though he was then not thirty years old, his discernment was strong, and his counsel es- teemed the best. These were the talents by which he overthrew Crassus, who laid himself open to his arts, first by a too sanguine confidence, and afterward by his fears and depression under mis- fortunes. When Crassus had listened to the lure of Ariamnes, and left the river to march into the plain, the traitor led him a way that was smooth and easy at first; but after a while it became ex- tremely difficult, by reason of the deep sands in which he had to wade, and the sight of a vast desert without wood or water, which afforded no prospect of repose, or hope of refreshment. So that his troops were ready to give out, not only through thirst and the difficulty of the march, but through the comfortless and melancholy view be- fore them of a country where there was neither tree nor stream to be seen, no hill to shelter them, no green herb growing, but the billows of an im- mense sea of sand surrounding the whole army. These things gave them sufficient reason to suspect they were betrayed; but when the envoys of Artavasdes arrived, there was no room to doubt it. That prince informed Crassus, " That Orodes had invaded his kingdom with a great army, so that now he could send the Romans no succors. Therefore, he advised them to march toward Armenia, where with their united forces, they might give Orodes battle. If Crassus did not re- lish this advice, he conjured him at least never to encamp upon any ground favorable to the cavalry, but to keep close to the mountains." Crassus, in his resentment and infatuation would send no answer in writing; he only said, " He was not at leisure now to think of the Armenians, but by and by he would come and chastise their king for his perfidiousness." Cassius was extremely chagrined, but would not make any more remons- trances to the general, who was already offended at the liberty he had taken. He applied, however, to the barbarian in private, such terms as these, " O thou vilest of impostors, what malevolent demon has brought thee amongst us? By what potions, by what enchantments, hast thou prevail- ed upon Crassus to pour his arrny into this vast, this amazing desert; a march more fit for a Nurni- dian robber than for a Roman general?" The barbarian, who had art enough to adapt himself to all occasions, humbled himself to Cassius, and encouraged him to hold out and have patience only a little longer. As for the soldiers, he rode about the ranks under a pretense of fortifying them against fatigues, and made use of several taunting expressions to them, " What," said he, " do you imagine that you are marching through Campania? Do you expect the fountains, the streams, the shades, the baths, and houses of re- freshment, you meet with there? And will you never remember that you are traversing the bar- ren confines of the Arabians and Assyrians?" Thus the traitor admonished, or rather insulted the Romans, and got off at last before his impos- ture was discovered. Nor was this without the general's knowledge; he even persuaded him then, that he was going upon some scheme to put the enemy in disorder. MARCUS CRASSUS. 367 It is said, that Crassus on that day did not ap- pear iu a purple robe, such as the Roman gene- rals used to wear, but in a black one; and when he perceived his mistake, he went and changed it. Some of the standards, too, were so rooted in the ground, that they could not be moved without the greatest efforts. Crassus only laughed at the omen, and hastened his march the more, making the foot keep up with the cavalry. Meantime the remains of a reconnoitering party returned, an account that their comrades were killed by the Parthians, and that they had escaped with great difficulty. At the same time they assured him, tiiat the enemy was advancing with very numerous forces, and in the highest spirits. This intelligence spread great dismay among the troops, and Crassus was the most terrified of all. In his confusion, he had scarce understanding enough about him to draw up his army properly. At first, agreeably to the opinion of Cassius, he extended the front of his infantry so as to occupy a great space of ground, to prevent their being surrounded, and distributed the cavalry in the wings. But soon altering his mind, he drew up the legions in a close square, and made a front every way, each front consisting of twelve cohorts; every cohort had its troop of horse allotted it, that no part might remain unsupported by the cavalry, but that the whole might advance with equal security to the charge. One of the wings was given to Cassius, the other to young Crassus, and the general placed himself in the center. In this order they moved forward, until they came to t river called Balissus, which in itself was not considerable, but the sight of it gave plea- sure to the soldiers, as well on account of their heat and thirst, as the fatigues of a march through a dry and sandy desert. Most of the officers were of opinion that they ought to pass the night there, and after having got the best intelligence they could of the number of the enemy and their order, advance against him at break of day. But Cras- sus, carried away by the eagerness of his son, and of the cavalry about him, who called upon him to lead them to the charge, commanded those who wanted refreshment to take it as they stood in their ranks. Before they had all done, he began his march, not leisurely and with proper pauses, as is necessary in going to battle, but with a quick and continued pace until they came in sight of the enemy, wl*> appeared neither so numerous nor so formidable as they had expected. For Sureua had concealed his main force behind the advanced guard, and, to prevent their being dis- covered by the glittering of their armor, lie had ordered them to cover it with their coats or with skins. When both armies were near enough to engage, and the generals had given the signal, the field resounded with a horrid din and dreadful bellow- ing. For the Parthians do not excite their men to action with cornets and trumpets, but with cer- tain hollow instruments covered with leather, and surrounded with brass bells, which they beat con- tinually. The sound is deep and dismal, some- thing between the howling of wild beasts and the crashing of thunder; and it was from sage re- flection they had adopted it, having observed of all the senses, that of hearing soonest disturbs the mind, agitates the passions, and unhinges the understanding. While the Romans were trembling at the horrid noise, the Parthians suddenly uncovered their arms, and appeared like battalions of fire, with the gleam of their breastplates and their helmets of Margian steel polished to the greatest perfec- tion. Their cavalry too, completely armed in brass and steel, shed a luster no less striking. At the head of them appeared Surena, tall and well made; but his feminine beauty did not promise such courage as he was possessed of. For he was dressed in the fashion of the Medes, with his face painted, and his hair curled and equally parted: while the rest of the Parthians wore their hair in great disorder, like the Scythians, to make them- with selves look more terrible. At first, the barbarians intended to have charged with their pikes, and opened a way through their foremost ranks; but when they saw the depth of the Roman battalions, the closeness of their order, and the firmness of their standing they (irew back, and, under the appearance of breaking their ranks and dispersing, wheeled about and surrounded the Romans. At that instant Crassus ordered his archers and light infantry to begin the charge. But they had not gone far before they were salut- ed with a shower of arrows, which came with such force and did so much execution, as drove them back upon the battalions. This was the beginning of disorder and consternation among the heavy-armed, when they beheld the force and strength of the arrows, against which no armor was proof, and whose keenness nothing could re- sist. The Parthians now separated, and began to exercise their artillery upon the Romans on all sides at a considerable distance; not needing to take an exact aim, by reason of the closeness and depth of the square in which their adversaries were drawn up. Their bows were large and strong, yet capable of bending until the arrows were drawn to the head; the force they went with was consequently very great, and the wounds they gave, mortal. The Romans were now in a dreadful situation If they stood still, they were pierced through; if they advanced, tiiey could make no reprisals, and yet were sure to meet their fate. For the Pkr- thians shoot as they fly; and this they do with dexterity inferior only to the Scythians. It is, indeed, an excellent expedient, because they save themselves by retiring, and, by fighting all the while, escape the disgrace of flight. While the Romans had any hopes that the Parthians would spend all their arrows and quit the combat, or else advance hand to hand, they bore their distresses with patience. But as soon as it was perceived, that behind the enemy there was a number of camels loaded with arrows, from whence the first ranks, after they emptied their quivers, were supplied. Crassus, seeing no end to his sufferings, was greatly distressed. The step he took, was to send orders to his son to get up with the enemy, and charge them, if possible, be- fore he was quite surrounded; for it was princi- pally against him that one wing of the Parthian cavalry directed their efforts, in hopes of taking him in the rear. Upon this, the young man took thirteen hundred horse, of which those he had from Cffisar made a thousand, five hundred archers, and eight cohorts of infantry, which were next at hand, and wheeled about to come to the charge. However, the Parthians, whether it was that they were afraid to meet a detachment that came against that them in such good order, which some say was the case ; or whether they wanted to draw young Crassus as far as they possibly could from his father, turned their backs and fled.* The young *It was their common method, not to stand a pitched battle with troops that were in any degree their match. In retreating and advancing, as occasion required, they knew the advantage they had in the swiftness of their horses, and in the excellence of their archers. 368 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. man cried out, They dare not stand us, and follow- ed at full speed. So did Censorinus and Mega- bacchus;* the latter, a man noted for his strength and courage, and the former, a person of senato- rial dignity, and an excellent orator. Both were intimate friends of young Crassus, and nearly of his age. The cavalry kept on, and such was the alacrity and spirit of hope with which the infantry were inspired, that they were not left behind; for they imagined they were only pursuing a conquered enemy. Bat they had not gone far before they found how much they were deceived. The pre- tended fugitives faced about, and many others joining them, advanced to the encounter. The Romans, upon this, made a stand, supposing the enemy would come to close quarters with them, because their number was but small. The Par- thians, however, only formed a line of their heavy- armed cavalry opposite their adversaries, and then ordered their irregulars to gallop round, and beat up the sand and dust in such a manner, that the Romans could scarce either see or speak for the clouds of it. Beside, the latter were drawn up in so small a compass and pressed so close upon each other, that they were a very fair mark for the enemy. Their death, too, was lingering. They rolled about in agonies of pain, with the arrows sticking in them, and before they died, endeavor- ed to pull out the barbed points which were en- tangled within their veins and sinews: an effort that served only to enlarge their wounds and add to their torture. Many died in this miserable manner, and those who survived were not fit for action. When Publiusf desired them to attack the heavy-armed cavalry, they showed him their hands nailed to their shields and their feet fastened to the ground, so that they could neither fight nor fly. He therefore encouraged his cavalry, and advanced with great vigor to the charge. But the dispute was by no means upon an equality, either in respect of attack or defense. For his men had only weak and short javelins to attack the Par- thian cuirasses, which were made either of raw hides or steel; while the enemy's strong pikes could easily make an impression upon the naked or light-armed Gauls. These were the troops in which he placed his chief confidence, and indeed he worked wonders with them. They laid hold on the pikes of the barbarians, and grappling with them pulled them from their horses, and threw them on the ground, where they could scarce stir, by reason of the weight of their own armor. Many of them even quitted their own horses, and getting under those of the Parthians, wounded them in the belly; upon which the horses, mad with pain, plunged and threw their riders, and treading them under foot along with the enemy, at last fell down dead upon both. What went hardest against the Gauls was heat and thirst, for they had not been accustomed to either. And they lost most of their horses by advancing furiously against the enemy's pikes. They had now no resource but to retire to their infantry, and to carry off young Crassus, who was much wounded. But happening to see a hill of sand by the way, they retired to it; and having placed their horses in the middle, they locked their shields together all around, imagin- ing that would prove the best defense against the barbarians. It happened, however, quite other- wise. While they were upon plain ground, the foremost rank afforded some shelter to those be- hind; but upon an eminence, the unevenness of the ground showed one above another, and those behind higher than those before, so that there was no chance for any of them to escape; they fell promiscuously, lamenting their inglorious fate, and the impossibility of exerting themselves to the last. Young Crassus had with him two Greeks, nam- ed Hieronymus and Nicomachus, who had settled in that country in the town of Carrae. These ad- vised him to retire with them, and to make big escape to Ischnce, a city which had adopted the Roman interests, and was at no great distance. But he answered, " There was no death, howevei dreadful, the fear of which could make him leave so many brave men dying for his sake." At the same time he desired them to save themselves, and then embraced and dismissed them. As his own hand was transfixed with an arrow, and he could not use it, he offered his side to his armor-bearer, and ordered him to strike the blow. Censorinus is said to have died in the same manner. As for Megabacchus, he dispatched himself with his own hand, and the other principal officers followed his example. The rest fell by the Parthian pikes, after they had defended themselves gallantly to the last. The enemy did not make above five hun- dred prisoners. When they had cut off the head of young Crassus, they marched with it to his father, whose affairs were in this posture. After he had ordered his son to charge the Parthians, news was brought him that they fled with great precip- itation, and that the Romans pursued them with equal vivacity. He perceived also, that on his side the enemy's operations were comparatively feeble: for the greatest part of them were then gone after his son. Hereupon he recovered his spirits in some degree, and threw his forces back to some higher ground, expecting every moment his son's return from the pursuit. Pubiius had sent several messengers to inform him of his danger; but the first had fallen in with the barbarians, and were cut in pieces; and the last having escaped with great difficulty, told him his sou was lost, if he had not large and immedi- ate succors. Crassus was so distracted by differ- ent passions that he could not form any rational scheme. On the one hand, he was afraid of sac- rificing the whole army, and on the other, anxious for the preservation of his son; but at last he re- solved to march to his assistance. Meantime the enemy advanced with loud shoutf and songs of victory, which made them appeal more terrible; and all the drums bellowing again in the ears of the Romans, gave them notice of another engagement. The Parthians coming for- ward with the head of Publius on a spear, de- manded in the most contemptuous manner, whether they knew the family and parents of the young man. " For," said they, ' it is not possi- ble that so brave and gallant a youth shouid be the son of Crassus, the greatest dastard and th meanest wretch in the world " This spectacle broke the spirits of the Romans more than all the calamities they had met with. Instead of exciting them to revenge, as might have been expected, it produced a horror and tre- mor, which ran through the whole army. Nev- ertheless, Crassus, on this melancholy occasion, behaved with greater magnanimity than he had ever shown before. He marched up and down the ranks and cried, " Romans, this loss is .<niu MARCUS CRASSUS. 369 The fortunes and glory of Rome stand safe and undiminished in you. If you have any pity for me, who am bereaved of the best of sons, show it in your resentment against the enemy. Put an end to their triumph; avenge their cruelty. Be not astonished at this loss; they must always have something to suffer who aspire to great things. Lucullus did not pull down Tigranes, nor Scipio Antiochus, without some expense of blood. Our ancestors lost a thousand ships be- fore they reduced Sicily, and many great offi- cers and generals in Italy; but no previous Joss prevented their subduing the conquerors. For it was not by her good fortune, but by the per- severance and fortitude with which she combat- ed adversity, that Rome has risen to her present rht of oower.' authority, summoned the centurions and other officers to a council of war, in which it waa resolved they should retire. Accordingly they began to do so without sound of trumpet, and silently enough at first. But when the sick and wounded perceived they were going to be desert- ed, their doleful cries and lamentations filled the whole army with confusion and disorder. Still greater terror seized them as they proceeded, the foremost troops imagining that those behind were enemies. They often missed their way, often stopped to put themselves in some order, or to take some of the wounded off the beasts of bur- den, and put others on. By these things they lost a great deal of time; insomuch that Ignatius only, who made the best of his way with three hundred horse, arrived at Carrre about midnight. mgnt ot power." nunarea norse, arrivea at uarrre about midnight. Crassus, though he thus endeavored to animate jHe saluted the guards in Latin, and when he per- hls troops, did not find many to listen to him with Iceived they heard him, he bade them go and tell pleasure. He was sensible their depression still Coponius, who commanded there, that Crassus continued, when he ordered them to shout for the battle; for their shout was feeble, languid and un- equal, while that of the barbarians was bold and strong. When the attack began, the light-armed cavalry, taking the Romans in flank, galled them with their arrows; while the heavy-armed, charg- ing them in front with their pikes, drove them into a narrow space. Some, indeed, to avoid a painful death from the arrows, advanced with the resolution of despair, but did not much execution. All the advantage they had was, that they were speedily dispatched by the large wounds they re- ceived from the broad heads of the enemy's strong pikes, which they pushed with such violence, that they often pierced through two men at once.* fight continued in this manner all day; had fought a great battle with the Parthians. Then, without explaining himself farther, or ac- quainting them who he was, he made off as fust as possible to Zeugma; by which means he saved himself and his troop; but, at the same time, was much blamed for deserting his general. However, Crassus found his advantage in the hint given to Coponius. That officer considering that the hurry and confusion with which the mes- sage was delivered, betokened no good, ordered his'men to arm; and as soon as he was apprised lhat Crassus was marching that way, he went out to meet him, and conducted his army into the town. Though the Parthians in the night perceived the flight of the Romans, they did not pursue and when the barbarians came to retire, they them; but at break of day they fell upon thoue said, " They would give Crassus one night to be- that were left in the camp, and dispatched them to wail his son; if he did not in the meantime con- the number of four thousand. The cavalry also sider better, and rather choose to go and surren- picked up many others who were straggling upon dor himself to Arsaces. than be carried." Then j the plain. One of the Roman officers, named they sat down near the Roman army, and passed | Varguntinus, who had wandered in the night the night in great satisfaction, hoping to finish the from the main body with four cohorts, was found affair the next day. the next morning posted upon a hill. The barba- It was a melancholy and dreadful night to the ! rians surrounded their little corps, and killed them Romans. They took no care to bury the dead, nor any notice of the wounded, many of whom were expiring in great agonies. Every man had his own fate to deplore. That fate appeared inev- itable, whether they remained where they were, or threw themselves in the night into that boundless plain. They found a great objection, too, against retiring, in the wounded; who would retard their flight, if they attempted to carry them off, and alarm the enemy with their cries, if they were left behind. As for Crassus, though they believed him the cause of all their miseries, they wanted him to make his appearance and speak to them. But he had covered his head, chosen darkness for his com- panion, and stretched himself upon the ground. A sad example to the vulgar of the instability of fortune; and to men of deeper thought, of the effects of rashness and ill-placed ambition. Not contented with being the first and greatest among many millions of men, he had considered j Roman camp before the battle. These seeing himself in a mean light, because there were two Cassius upon the walls, told him, "Surena was above him. (ready to conclude a peace with them, on condi- all, except twenty men. These made their way through the enemy, sword in hand, who let them pass, and they arrived safe at Carra3. A rumor was now brought to Surena, that Cras- sus, with the best of his officers and troops, had escaped, and that those who had retired into Carrae, were only a mixed multitude, not worth his notice. He was afraid, therefore, that he had lost the fruits of his victory; but not being abso- lutely certain, he wanted better information, in order to determine whether he should besiege Carras, or pursue Crassus wherever he might have fled. For this purpose lie dispatched an in- terpreter to the walls, who was to call Crassus or Cassius in Latin, and tell them that Surena de- manded a conference. As soon as the business of the interpreter was made known to Crassus, he accepted the proposal. And not long after, cer- tain Arabians arrived from the same quarter, who knew Crassus and Cassius well, having been in the Octavius, one of his lieutenants, and Cassius, endeavored to raise him from the ground and console him, but found that he gave himself en- tirely up to despair. They then, by their own * There is nothing incredible in this, for it is frequently Hone by the Tartars in the same mode ol fighting, at this tion they would be upon terms of friendship with the king his master, and give up Mesopotamia; for he thought this more advantageous to both than coming to extremities." Cassius embraced the overture, and demanded that the time and place might be fixed for an interview between Surena and Crassus; which the Arabians undertook for, and then rode off. 570 PLUTARCH'S LIVES * Surena, delighted to find that the Romans were in a place where they might be besieged, led his Parthiaus against him the next day. These barba- rians treated them with great insolence, and told them, if they wanted either peace or truce, they 1 might deliver up Crassus or Cassius bound. The Romans, greatly afflicted at finding themselves so imposed upon, told Crassus he must give up his distant and vain hopes of succor from the Armen- ians, and resolve upon flight. This resolution ought to have been concealed from all the inhab- tants of Came until the moment it was put in execution. But Crassus revealed it to Androma- chus, one of the most perfidious among them, whom he also chose for his guide. From this traitor the Parthians learned every step that was taken. As it was not their custom, nor consequently very practicable for them to fight in the night, and it was in the night that Crassus marched out, Andromachus contrived that they might not be far behind. With this view he artfully led the Romans sometimes one way, sometimes another, and at last entangled them among deep marshes and ditches, where it was difficult to get either forward or backward. There were several who conjectured from this shifting and turning, that Andromachus hud some ill design, and therefore refused to follow him any farth-er. As for Cas- sius, he returned to Came; and when his guides, who were Arabians, advised him to wait until the moon had passed the Scorpion, he answered, "I am more afraid of the Sagittary."* Then mak- ing the best of his way, lie got into Assyria with five hundred horse. Others finding faithful guides, reached the mountains of Sinnaca, and were perfectly secure, before it was light. These, about five thousand in number, were under the conduct of Octavius, a man of great merit and honor. Meantime, day overtook Crassus, while through the treachery of Andromachus, he was wandering on bogs and other impracticable ground. He had with him only four cohorts of infantry, a very small number of horse, and five lictors. At length he regained the road with much labor and diffi- culty: but by this time the enemy was coming up. He was not above twelve furlongs behind the corps under Octavius. However, as he could not join him, all he could do was to retire to a hill, not so secure against cavalry as Sinnaca, but situated under those mountains, and connected with them by a long ridge which ran through the plain. Octavius, therefore, could see the danger Crassus was in, and he immediately ran down with a small band to his assistance. Upon this, the rest, reproaching themselves for staying be- hind, descended from the hights, and falling upon the Parthians, drove them from the hill. Then they took Crassus in the midst of them, and fencing him with their shields, boldly declared, that no Parthian arrow should touch their general, while any df them were left alive. Surena now perceiving that the Parthians were less vigorous in their attacks, and that if night came on, and the Romans gained the mountains, they would be entirely out of his reach, formed a stratagem to get Crassus into his hands. He dis- missed some of his prisoners after they had heard the conversation of the Parthian soldiers, who had been instructed to say, that the king did not want perpetual war with the Romans, but had rather ojjew the friendship and alliance by his generous ' Alluding to the Parthian archers. treatment of Crassus. After this maneuver, the barbarians withdrew from the combat, and Surena, with a few of his principal officers, advancing gently to the hill, where he unstrung his bow, and offering his hand, invited Crassus to an agree- ment. He said, " The king had hitherto, contrary to his inclinations, given proofs of his power, but now he would with pleasure show his moderation and clemency, in coining to terms with the Ro- mans, and suffering them to depart in peace." The troops received this proposal of Surena vith joy. But Crassus, whose errors had all been owing to the Parthian treachery and deceit, and thought this sudden change in their behavior a very suspicious circumstance, did not accept the overture, but stood deliberating. Hereupon, the soldiers raised a great outcry, and bade him go down. Then they proceeded to insults and re- proaches, telling him, "He was very willing to expose them to the weapons of the Parthians, but did not dare to meet them himself, when they had laid down tneir arms, and wanted only a friendly conference." At first he had recourse to entreaties, and repre- sented, that if they would but hold out the re- mainder of the day, they might in the night gain the mountains and rocks, which would be inac- cessible to cavalry. At the same time he pointed to the way, and begged them not to forego the hopes of saft?ty when they had it so near. But when he found they received his address with anger, and clashing their arms in a menacing manner, he was terrified, and began to go; only turning round a moment to speak these few words, " You, Octavius, and you, Patronius, and all you Roman officers that are here present, are witnesses of the necessity I am under to take thia step, and conscious of the dishonor and violence I suffer. But when you are safe, pray tell the world that I was deceived by the enemy, and not that I was abandoned by my countrymen." However, Octavius and Patronius would not stay behind; they descended the hill with him. His lictors too would have followed, but he sent them back. The first persons that met him, on the part of the barbarians, were two Greeks of the half breed. They dismounted and made Cras sus a low reverence, and addressing him in Greek, desired he would send some of his people to see that Surena and his company came unarmed, and without any weapons concealed about them Crassus answered, " That if his life had been of any account with him, he should not have trusted himself in their hands." Nevertheless, he sent two brothers of the name of Roscius before him, to inquire upon what footing, and how many of each side were to meet. Surena detained those messengers. and advanced in person with his prin- cipal officers on horseback. "What is this," said he, "I behold? A Roman general on foot, when we are on horseback? " Then he ordered a horse to be brought for him. But Crassus answered, " There was no error on either side, since each came to treat after <he manner of his country." " Then," said Surena, "from this moment there shall be peace and an alliance between Orodes and the Romans; but the treaty must be signed upon the banks of the Euphrates; for you Romans re- member your agreements very ill." Then he offered him his hand; and when Crassus would have sent for a horse, he told him, " There was no need; the king would supply him with one." At the same time a horse was brought with furniture of gold, and the equerries having mounted, Cras- sus began to drive him forward. Octavius theu laid hold on the bridle; in which he was followed MARCUS CRASSUS. 371 by Patronius, a legionary tribune. Afterward the rest of the Romans who attended, endeavored to stop the horse, and to draw off those who pressed upon Crassus on each side. A scuffle and tumult ensued, which ended in blows. Thereupon Oc- tavius drew his sword, and killed one of the Par- thian grooms; and another coining behind, Oc- tavius dispatched him. ratrouiua, who had no arms to tie! end him, received a stroke on his breast-plate, but leaped from his horse unwounded. Crassus was killed by a Parthian named Pomaxa3- thres:* though some say another dispatched him, and Pornaxsethres cut off his head and right hand. Indeed, all these circumstances must be rather from conjecture than knowledge. For part of those who attended were slain in attempting to defend Crassus, and the rest had run up the hill Oil the first alarm. After this, the Parthians went and addressed thetnselves to the troops at the top. They told (hern, Crassus had met with the reward his injus- tice deserved; bat, as for them, Surena desired they would come down boldly, for they had no- thing to fear. Upon this promise some went down and surrendered themselves. Others at- tempted to get off in the night; but very few of those escaped. The rest were hunted by the Arabians, and either taken or put to the sword. It is said, that in all there were twenty thousand killed, and ten thousand made prisoners. Surena sent the head and hand to Orodes in Armenia; notwithstanding which he ordered his messengers to give it out at Seleucia, that he was bringing Crassus alive. Pursuant to this report, he prepared a kind of mock procession, which, by way of ridicule, he called triumph. Caius Pacia"- nus, who of all the prisoners, most resembled Crassus, was dressed in a rich robe in the Par- thian fashion, and instructed to answer to the name of Crassus and title of general. Thus ac- coutered, he marched on horseback at the head of the Romans. Before him marched the trumpets and lictors, mounted upon camels. Upon the rods were suspended empty purses, and, on the axes, heads of the Romans newly cut off. Behind came the Seleucian courtesans with music, sing- ing scurrilous and farcical songs upon the effem- inacy and cowardice of Crassiis. These things were to amuse the populace. But after the farce was over, Surena assembled the senate of Seleucia, and produced the obscene books of Aristides, called Milesiacs. Nor was this a groundless invention to blacken the Ro- ma us. For the books being really found in the baggage of Rustius,f gave Surena an excellent opportunity to say many sharp and satirical things of the Romans, who, even in the time of war, could not refrain from such libidinous actions and abominable books. This scene put the Seleucians in mind of the vise remark of JEsop. They saw Surena had put the Milesian obscenities in the forepart of the \vullet, and behind they beheld a Parthian Sybaris,* with a long train of carriages full of harlots; in- somuch that his army resembled the serpents owlled scytalaz. Fierce and formidable in its head, it presented nothing but pikes, artillery, and war horses; while the tail ridiculously enough exhi- bited prostitutes, musical instruments, and nights spent in singing and riot with those women. mils him Mnxauhres, and in some copies of Piutart;h he is called Axalhres. t One of Uie Bodleian niimuscripts has it Roscius. t tiybaris was a lown m Lucania, famous lor its luxury tad effeminacy. Rnstius undoubtedly was to blame; ont it was an impudent thing in the Parthians to censure tho Milesiacs, when many of the Arsacidse who filled the throne were sons of Milesian or Ionian cour- tesans. During these transactions, Orodes was recon- ciled to Artavasdes the Armenian, and had agreed to a marriage between that prince's sister and his son Pacorus. On this occasion they freely went to each other's entertainments, in which many o'f the Greek tragedies were presented. For Orodes was not unversed in the Grecian literature; and Artavasdes had written tragedies himself, as well as orations and histories, some of which are still extant. In one of these entertainments, while they were yet at table, the head of Crassus was brought to the door. Jason, a tragedian of the city of Tralles, was rehearsing the Bacchse of Euripides, and the tragical adventures of Pentheus and Agave. All the company were expressing their admiration of the pieces, when Slllaces, en- tering the apartment, prostrated himself before the king, and laid the head of Crassus at his feet. The Parthians welcomed it with acclamations of joy, and the attendants, by the king's order, placed Sillaces at the table. Hereupon, Jasou gave one of the actors the habit of Pentheus, in which he had appeared, and putting on that of Agave, with the frantic air and all the enthusiasm of a Bacchanal, sung that part, where Agave pre- sents the head of Pentheus upon her thyrsus, fancying it to be that of a young lion Well are our toils repaid: On yonder mountain We pierced the lordly savage. Finding the company extremely delighted, he went on The Chorus asks, "Who gave the glorins blow?" Jlrgave answers, "Mine, mine is the prize." Pomaxeethres, who was silting at the table, upon hearing this, started up, and would have taken the head from Jason, insisting that that part belonged to him, and not to the actor. The king, highly diverted, made Pornaxrethres the presents usual o^n such occasions, and rewarded Jason with a talent. The expedition of Crassus was a real tragedy, and such was the exordium,* or farce after it. However, the Divine Justice punished Orodes for his cruelty, and Surena for his perjury. Oro- des, envying the glory Surena had acquired, put him to death soon after. And that prince, having lost his son Pacorus in a battle with the Romans, fell into a languishing disorder which turned to a dropsy. His second son Phraates took the oppor- tunity to give him aconite. But finding the poi- son worked only upon the watery humor, and was carrying off the disease with it, he took a horter method, and strangled him with his owu hamis.f * Exordium, in its original sense, signified the unravel- ing of the plot, the catastrophe of a tragedy, and it retain- ed that sense among the Greeks. But when the Rom LIBS began to act their light satirical pieces (of which they had always been very fond) after their tragedies, they applied the term to those pieces. t There have been more execrable characters, bnt there is not, perhaps, in the history of mankind, one more con- temptible than that of Crassus. His ruling passion was the most sordid lust of wealth, and the whole of his conduct, political, popular, and military, was subservient to this. If at any time he gave into public munificence, it wa with him no more than a species of commerce. By thus treating the people, he was laying out his money in the purchase of provinces. When Syria fell to his lot, the transports h discovered sprung not from the great ambition of carry- ing the Roman eagles over the east: they were nothing more than the joy of n nu-er, when he stumbles upon a hid- den treasure. 0azzld with the prospect of barbarian goM, 872 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. NICIAS AND CRASSUS COMPARED. ONE of the first things that occurs hi this com- parison is, that Nicias gained his wea.th in a less exceptionable manner than Crassus. The work- wig of mines, indeed, does not seem very suitable to a man of Nicias's character, where the persons employed are commonly malefactors or barbarians, some of which work in fetters, until the damps and unwholesome air put an end to their being. But it is comparatively an honorable pursuit, when put in parallel with getting an estate by the confiscations of Sylla, or by buying houses in the. midst of fires. Yet Crassus dealt as openly in these things as he did in agriculture and usury. As to the other matters which he was censured for, and which he denied, namely, his making money of his vote in the senate, his extorting it from the allies, his overreaching silly women by flattery, and his undertaking the defense of ill men; nothing like these things was ever imputed by Slander herself to Nicias. As to his wasting his money upon those who made a trade of im- peachments to prevent their doing him any harm, it was a circumstance which exposed him to ridi- cule; and unworthy, perhaps, of the characters of Pericles and Aristides ; but necessary for him, who had a timidity in his nature. It was a thing which Lycurgus the orator afterward made a merit of to the people: when censured for having bought off one of these trading informers, " I re- joice," said he, "that after being so long employ- ed iu the administration, 1 am discovered to have given money, and not taken it." As to their expenses, Nicias appears to have Dt'.en more public spirited in his. His offerings to llie gods, and the games and tragedies with which he entertained the people, were so many proofs of noble and generous sentiments. It is t true, all that Nicias laid out in this manner, and, indeed, his whole estate, amounted only to a small part of what Crassus expended at once, in enter- taining so many myriads of men, and supplying them with bread afterward. Bat it would be very strange to me, if there should be any one who does not perceive that this vice is nothing but an inequality and inconsistency of character; parti- cularly when he sees men laying out that money in an honorable manner, which they have got dis- honorably. So much with regard to their riches. If we consider their behavior in the administra- tion, we shall not find in Nicias any instance of cunning, injustice, violence, or elFrontery. On tht> contrary, he suffered Alcibiades to impose he grasped with eagerness a command for which he had no adequate capacity. We find him embarrassed by the slight- est difficulties in his military operations; and, when his ob- stinacy would permit him, taking his measures from the ad- vice of his lieutenants. We look with indignation on the Roman squadrons standing, by his dispositions, as a mark for the I'arthian archers, and incapable of acting either on the orldii'ive or defensive. The Romans could not be ig- norant of the Parthian method of attacking and retreating, when they had before spent so much time in Armenia. The fame of .their cavalry could not be unknown in a coun- try where it was so much dreaded. It was, therefore, the first business of the Roman general to avoid those coun- tries which mi^ht give them any advantage in the eques- trian action, liut the hot scent of eastern treasure made him a dupe even to the policy of the barbarians, and to arrive at this the nearest way, he sacrificed the lives of thirty thousand Romans. upon him, and he was modest or rather timi<! in his applications to the people. Whereas Crassus, in turning from his friends to his enemies, and back again if his interest required it, is justly ac- cused of an illiberal duplicity. Nor could he deny that he used violence to attain the consulship, when he hired ruffians to lay their hands upon. Cato and Domitius. In the assembly that was held for the allotment of the provinces, many were wounded, and four citizens killed. Nay, Crassus himself struck a senator, named Lucius Annalius, j who opposed his measures, upon the face with his j fist (a circumstance which escaped us in his Life), and drove him out of the forum covered with blood. But if Crassus was too violent and tyrannical in his proceedings, Nicias was as much too timid. His poltroonery and mean submission to the most abandoned persons in the state deserve the greatest reproach. Beside, Crassus showed some magnani- mity and dignity of sentiment, in contending, not with such wretches as Cleon and Hyperbolus, hut with the glory of Csesar and the three triumphs of Pornpey. In fact, he maintained the dispute well with them for power, and in the high honor of the censorship he was even iVyond Pornpey. For he who wants to stand at the h^lm, should not consider what may expose him to "iivy, but what is great and glorious, and may by iit> luster, force envy to sneak behind. But if security and repose are to be consulted above all things; if you are afraid of Alcibiades upon the rostrum, of the Lacedaemonians at Pylos, and of Perdiceas in Thrace, then, surely, Nicias, Athens is wide enough to afford you a corner to retire to, where you may weave yourself the soft crown of tran- quillity, as some of the philosophers express it. The love Nicias had for peace was, indeed, a divine attachment, and his endeavors, during 1 his whole administration, to put an end to the war, were worthy of the Grecian humanity. This slone places him in so honorable a light, that Ciassus could not have been compared with him, though he had made the Caspian sea or the Indian ocean the boundary of the Roman empire. Nevertheless, in a commonwealth which re- tains any sentiments of virtue, he who has the lead should not give place foit a moment to per- sons of no principle; he should intrust no charge with those who want capacity, nor place any con- fidence in those who want honor. And Nicias certainly did this in raising Cleon to the command of the army, a man who had nothing to recom- mend him but his impudence and his bawling in the rostrum. On the other hand, I do not com- mend Crassus for advancing to action, in the war with Spartacus, with more expedition than pru- dence; though his ambition had this excwse, that lie was afraid Pompey would come and snatch his laurels from him, as Mummius had done from Metellus at Corinth. But the conduct of Nicias was very absurd and mean-spirited. He would not give up to his enemy the honor and trust of commander-in-chief while he could execute that charge with ease, and had good hopes of success; but as soon as he saw it attended with great dan- ger, he was willing to secure himself, though he exposed the public by it. It was not thus Themis* NICIAS AND CRASSUS COMPARED. Vocles behaved in the Persian war. To prevent the advancement of a rnan to the command who had neither capacity nor principle, which he knew must have been the ruin of his country, he pre- vailed with him by a sum of money to give up his pretensions. And Cato stood for the tribuneship, when he saw it would involve him in the greatest trouble and danger. On the contrary, Nicias was willing enough to be general, when he had only to go against Minoa, Cythera, or the poor Melians, Out if there was occasion to fight with the Lace- daemonians, he put off his armor, and intrusted the ships, the men, the warlike stores, in short the entire direction of a war which required the most consummate prudence and experience, to the igno- rance and rashness of Cleon, in which he was not only unjust to himself and his own honor, but to the welfare and safety of his country. This made the Athenians send him afterward, contrary to his inclination, against Syracuse. They thought it was not a conviction of the improbability of suc- cess, but a regard to his own ease and a want of sphit, which made him willing to deprive them of the conquest of Sicily. There is, however, this great proof of his inte- grity, that though he was perpetually against war, and always declined the command, yet they failed not to appoint him to it as the ablest and best general they had. But Crassus, though he was forever aiming at such a charge, never gained one except in the war with the gladiators; and that only because Pompey, Metellus, and both the Luculluses were absent. This is the more re- markable, because Crassus was arrived at a high degree of authority and power. But, it seems, his best friends thought him (as the comic poet ex- presses it) In all trades skill'd except the trade of war. However, this knowledge of his talents availed the Romans but little; his ambition never let them rest, until they assigned him a province. The Athenians employed Nicias against his inclina- tion; and it was against the inclination of the Romans that Crassus led them out. Crassus in- volved his country in misfortunes; but the mis- fortunes of Nicias were owing to his country. Nevertheless, in this respect, it is easier to com- mend Nieias than to blame Crassus. The capacity and skill of the former as a general kept him from being drawn away with the vain hopes of his countrymen, and he declared, from the first, that Sicily could not be conquered: the latter called out the Romans to the Parthian war, as an easy undertaking. In this he found himself sadly de- ceived; yet his aim was great. While Caesar was subduing the west, the Gauls, the Germans, and Britain, he attempted to penetrate the Indian ocean on the east, and to conquer all Asia; things which Pornpey and Lucullus wduld have effected .f they had been able. But though they were both engaged in the same designs, and made the same attempts with Crassus, their characters stood unimpeached both as to moderation and probity. If Crassus was opposed by one of the tribunes in his Parthian expedition, Pompey was opposed by the senate when he got Asia "for his province And when Caesar had routed three hundred thou sand Germans, Cato voted that he should be given up to that injured people, to atone for the viola- tion of the peace. But the Roman people, paying no regard to Cato, ordered a thanksgiving to the gods, for fifteen days, and thought themselves happy in the advantage gained. In what raptures then would they have been, and for how many days would they have offered sacrifices, if Crassus could have sent them an account from Babylon, that he was victorious; and if he had proceeded from thence through Media, Persia, Hyrcania, Susa, and Bactria, and reduced them to the form of Roman provinces. For, according to Euri- pides, if justice must be violated, and men cannot sit down quiet and contented with their present possessions, it should not be for taking the small town of Scandia, or razing such a castle as Mendej nor yet for going in chase of the fugitive Eginetse, who, like birds, have retired to another country: the price of injustice should be high: so sacred a thing as right should not be invaded for a trifling consideration, for that would be treating it with contempt indeed. In fact, they who commend Alexander's expedition, and decry that of Crassus, judge of actions only by the event. As to their military performances, several of Nicias's are very considerable. He gained many battles, and was very near taking Syracuse. Nor were all his miscarriages so many errors; but they were to be imputed partly to his ill health, and partly to the envy of his countrymen at home. Ou the other hand, Crassus committed so many errors, that Fortune had no opportunity to show him any favor; wherefore we need not so much wonder, that the Parthian power got the better of his in- capacity, as that his incapacity prevailed over the good fortune of Rome. As one of them paid the greatest attention to divination, and the other entirely disregarded it, and yet both perished alike, it is hard to say whether the observation of omens is a salutary thing or not. Nevertheless, to err on the side of religion, out of regard to ancient and received opinions, is a more pardonable thing than to err through ob- stinacy and presumption. Crassus, however, was not so reproachable in his exit. He did not surrender himself, or submit to be bound, nor was he deluded with vain hopes; but in yielding to the instances of his friends ho met his fate, and fell a victim to the perfidy and injustice of the barbarians. Whereas Nicia>, from a mean and unmanly fondness for life, put him- self in the enemy's hands, by which means ho came to a baser and more dishonorable end. 374 PLUTARCH'S LIVES SERTORIUS. IT is not at all astonishing that Fortune, in the variety of her motions through a course of num- berless ages, happens often to hit upon the same Joint, and to produce events perfectly similar. 'or, if the number of events be infinite. Fortune may easily furnish herself with parallels in such abundance of matter; if their number he limited, there must necessarily be a return of the same oc- currences, when the whole is run through. Some there are who take a pleasure in collecting those accidents and adventures they have met with in history or conversation, which have such a characteristical likeness, as to appear the effects of reason and foresight. For example, there were two eminent persons of the name of Attis,* the one a Syrian, the other an Arcadian, who were both killed by a boar. There were two Acteons, one of which was torn in pieces by his dogs, and the other by his lovers.f Of the two Scipios, one conquered Carthage, and the other demolished it. Troy was taken three times; the first time by Hercules, on account of Laornedon's horses; the second time by Agamemnon, through means of the wooden horse, t the third by Charidemus, a horse happening to stand in the way, and hin- dering the Trojans from shutting the gates so quickly as they should have done. There are two cities that be;tr the names of the most odoriferous plants, Ios and Smyrna, Violet, and Myrrh, and Homer is said to have been born in the one, and to have died in the other. To these instances we may acid, that some of the generals who have been the greatest warriors, and have exerted their capacity for stratagem in the most successful manner, have had but one. eye; I mean Philip, Antigonus, Han- nibal, and Sertorius, whose life we are now going to write. A man whose conduct, with respect to women, was preferable to that of Philip, who was more faithful to his friends than Antigonus, and more humane to his enemies than Hannibal; but, though he was inferior to none of them in capacity, he fell short of them all in success. Fortune, in- deed, was ever more cruel to him than his most in- veterate and avowed enemies; yet he showed him- self a match for Metellus in experience, for Pom- pey iu noble during, for Sylla in his victories, nay, for the whole Roman people iu power; and was all the while an exile and a sojourner among bar- barians. * Pausanias, in his Achaics, mentions one Attis, or Attes llie son of Calaus the Phrygian, who introduced the worship of the mother of the pods, among the Lydians. lie was himself under a natural incapacity of having children, and, therefore, he might, possibly be the first who proposed that all the priests of that goddess should be eunuchs. Pausanias adds, tr.at Jupiter, displeased at his being so great a favorite with her, sent a boar which ravaged the fields and slew Attis, as well as many of the Lydians. We know nothing of any other Attis. t Acteon, the son of Aristeseus, was torn in pieces by his own dogs; and Acteon, the son of Melissus, by the Bac- chiadoe. See the Scholiast upon Apollonius, Book iv. % These are all wooden instances of events being under the guidance of an intelligent being. Nay, they are such puerilities as Timacus himself scarce ever gave into. Some suppose los to have been an island rather than a town. But if it was an island, there might be a town in it of the same name, which was often the case in the Greek nlands. The Grecian general who, we think, moss re- sembles him, is Eumenes of Cardia.* Botn 01 them excelled in point of generalship, in all the art of stratagem, as well as courage. Both were banished their own countries, and commanded armies in others. And both had to contend with Fortune, who persecuted them so violently, that at last they were assassinated through the treachery of those very persons whom they had often led to victory. Quintus Sertorius was of a respectable family in the town of Nursia, and country of the Sabines. Having lost his father when a child, he had a libe- ral education given him by his mother, whom on that account he always loved with the greatest tenderness. Her name was Rhea. He was suffi- ciently qualified to speak iu a court of justice; and by his abilities that way gained some interest when but a youth, in Rome itself. But his greater talents for the camp, and his success as a soldier, turned his ambition into that channel. He made his first campaign under Csepio,f when the Cimbri and Teutones broke into GauL The Romans fought a battle, in which their beha- vior was but indifferent, and they were put to the rout. On this occasion Sertorius lost his horse, and received many wounds himself, yet he swam the river Rhone, armed as he was with his breastplate and shield, in spite of the violence of the torrent. Such was his strength of body, and so much had he improved that strength by exer- cise. The same enemy came on a second time, with such prodigious numbers, and such dreadful me- naces, that it was difficult to prevail with a Ro- man to keep his post, or to obey his general. Ma- rius had then the command, and Sertorius offered his services to go as a spy, and bring him an account of the enemy. For this purpose he took a Gaulish habit, and having learned as much of the language as might suffice for common address, he mingled with the barbarians. When he had seen and heard enough to let him into the measures they were taking, he returned to Marius, who honored him with the established rewards of valor; and, during that whole war, he gave such proofs of his courage and capacity, as raised him to dis- tinction, and perfectly gained him the confidence of his general. After the war with the Cimbri and Teutones^ he was sent as a legionary tribune under Didius, into Spain, and took up his winter quarters in Castu- lo,$ a city of the Celtiberians. The soldiers liv- ing in great plenty, behaved in an insolent and disorderly manner, and commonly drank to intox- ication. The barbarians, seeing this, held them iu contempt; and one night having got assistance * In the Thracian Chersonesus. t In the printed test it is Scipio; but two manuscripts give us Capio. And it certainly was <i. Servilius Czepio, who, with the consu Cn. Mallus, was defeated by the Cimbri in the fourth year of the hundred and sixty-e'iyhth Olympiad, a hundred and three years before the Christian era. t A town of New Castile, on the confines of Andalusia. SERTORIU S. 375 from their neighbors the Gyrisoenians,* they enter- ed the houses where they were quartered, and put them to the sword. Sertorius, with a few more, having found means to escape, sallied out and collected all that he had got out of the hands of the barbarians. Then he marched round the town, and finding the gate open at which the Gy- risoenians had been privately admitted, he entered; but took care not to commit the same error they had done. He placed a guard there, made himself master of all the quarters of the town, and slew all the inhabitants who were able to bear arms. After this execution, he ordered his soldiers to lay aside their own arms and clothes, and take those of the barbarians, and to follow him in that form to the city of the Gyrisoenians. The people, deceived by the suits of armor and habits they were ac- quainted with, opened their gates and sallied forth, iu expectation of meeting their friends and fellow- citizens in all the joy of success. The consequence of which was, that the greatest part of them were cut in pieces at the gj-Ues; the rest surrendered, and were sold as slaves. By this maneuver, the name of Sertorius be- came famous in Spain; and upon his return to Rome, he was appointed quaestor in the Cisalpine Gaul. That appointment was a very seasonable one: for the Marian war soon breaking out, and Sertorius being employed to levy troops and to provide arms, he proceeded in that commission with such expedition and activity, that, while the effeminacy and supineness were spreading among the rest of the Roman youth, he was considered as a man of spirit and enterprise. Nor did his martial intrepidity abate, when he arrived at the degree of general. His personal ex- ploits were still great, and he faced danger in the most fearless manner; inconsequence of which he had one of his eyes struck out. This, however, he always gloried in. He said others did not al- ways carry about with them the honorable badges of their valor, but sometimes laid aside their chains, their truncheons, and coronets; while he had perpetually the evidences of his bravery about him, and those who saw his misfortune, at the eame time beheld his courage. The people, too, treated him with the highest respect. When he entered the theater, Ihey received him with the loudest plaudits and acclamations, an honor which officers distinguished for their age and achieve- ments did not easily obtain. Yet, when he stood for the office of tribune of the people, he lost it through the opposition of Sylla's faction; which was the chief cause of his perpetual enmity against Sylla. When Marius was overpowered by Sylla, and fled for his life, and Sylla was gone to carry on the war against Mithridates, Octavius, one of the consuls, re- mained in Sylla's interest; but Cinna, the other consul, whose temper was restless and seditious, endeavored to revive the sinking faction of. Marius. Sertorius joined the latter; the rather because he perceived that Octavius did not act with vigor, and that he distrusted the friends of Marius. Some time after, a great battle was fought by the consuls in the forum, in which Octavius was Victorious, and Cinna and Sertorius having lost not much less than ten thousand men, were forced to fly. But, as there was a number of troops scattered up and down in Italy, they gained them by promises, and with that addition found The Gyrisoenians being a people whom we know nothing of, it has been conjectured that we should read Frisians. The Orisiaus were of that district. See Celle- rius themselves able to make head against Octaviua again. At the same time Marius arrived from Africa, and offered to range himself under the banners of Cinna, as a private man under the con- sul. The officers were of opinion that they ought to receive him; only Sertorius opposed it. Whether it was that he thought Cinna would not pay so much attention to him, whenhe had a man of so much greater name, as a general in his army; or whether he feared, the cruelty of Marius would throw all their affairs intoconfusion again; as he indulged his resentments without any regard to justice or moderation whenever he had the ad- vantage. He remonstrated, that as ihey were al- ready superior to th enemy, they had not much left todo; but if they admitted Marius among them, ho would rob them of all the honor and the power at the same time, for he could not endure an associ- ate in command, and was treacherous in every- thing where his own interest was concerned. Cinna answered, that the sentiments of Serto- rius were perfectly right, but that he was ashamed and knew not how to reject Marius, when he had invited him to take apart in the direction of affairs. Sertorius replied, " I imagined that Ma- rius had come of his own accord into Italy, and pointed out to you what in that case was most ex- pedient for you to do; but as he came upon your invitation, you should not have deliberated* a mo- ment whether he was to be admitted or not. You should have received him immediately." True honor leaves no room for doubt and hesitation. Cinna then sent for Marius; and the force? being divided into three parts, each of these three great officers had a command. When the war was over, Cinna and Marius gave into every kind of insolence and cruelty. Sertorius alone neither put any man to death to glut his own revenge, nor committed any other outrage; on the con- trary, he reproached Marius with his savage pro- ceedings, and applying to Cinna in private, pre- vailed with him to make a more moderate use of his power. At last, finding that the slaves, whom Marius had admitted his fellow-soldiers, and after- ward employed as the guards of his tyranny,f were a strong and numerous body; and that partly by order or permission of Marius; partly by their native ferocity, they proceeded to the greatest ex- cesses, killing their masters, abusing their mis- tresses, and violating their children; he concluded, that these outrages were insupportable, and shot them all with arrows in their camp, though their number was not less than four thousand. After the death of Marius, the assassination of Cinna that followed it, and the appointment of young Marius, to the consulship, contrary to the will of Sertorius and the laws of Rome, Carbo, Scipio, and Norbanus carried on the war against Sylla, now returned to Italy, but without any success. For sometimes the officers behaved in a mean and dastardly manner, and sometimes the troops deserted in large bodies. In this case Ser- torins began to think his presence of no impor- tance, as he saw their affairs under a miserable direction, and that persons of the least under- standing had most power. He was the more confirmed in his opinion, when Sylla, encamped near Scipio, and, amusing him with caresses, under pretense of an approaching peace, was all the while corrupting his troops. Sertorius adver- tised Scipio of it several times, and told him what the event would be, but he never listened to him. Qni deliberant desciverunt. -Tacit. t The BarduEtaaus. 376 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Then giving up Rome for lost, he retired with the utmost expedition into Spain; hoping if he could get the government there into his hands, to be able to afford protection to such of his friends as might be beaten in Italy. He met with dread- ful storms on his way, and when he came to the mountains adjoining to Spain, the barbarians in- sisted that he should pay toll, and purchase his passage over them. Those that attended him were fired with indignation, and thought it an insufferable thing for a Roman proconsul to pay toll to such a crew of barbarians. But he made light of the seeming disgrace, and said, " Time was the thing he purchased, than which nothing in the world could be more precious to a man en- gaged in great attempts." He therefore satisfied the demands of the mountaineers, and passed over into Spain without losing a moment. He found the country very populous, and abounding in youth lit for war, but at the same time the people, oppressed by the avarice and rapacity of former governors, were ill disposed toward any Roman government whatever. To remove this aversion, he tried to gain the better sort by his affable and obliging manner, and the populace by lowering the taxes. But his excusing them from providing quarters for the soldiers was the most agreeable measure. For he ordered his men to pass the winter in tents without the walls, and he set them the example. He did not, how- ever, place his whole dependence upon the attach- ment of the barbarians. Whatever Romans had settled there, and were fit to bear arms, he incor- porated with his troops : lie provided such a variety of warlike machines, and built such a number of ships, as kept the cities in awe: and though his address was mild and gentle in peace, he made himself formidable by his preparations for war. As soon as he was informed that Sylla had made himself master of Rome, and that the fac- tion of Murius and Carbo was entirely suppressed, he concluded that an army would soon be sent against him under the conduct of an able general. For this reason he sent Julius Salinator, with six thousand foot, to block up the passes of the Pyre- nees. In a little time Caius Annius arrived on the part of Sylla; and seeing it impossible to dis- lodge Salinator, he sat down at the foot of the mountain, not knowing how to proceed. While he was in this perplexity, one Calpurnius, sur- named Lenarius, assassinated Salinator, and his troops thereupon quitting the Pyrenees, Annius passed them, easily repulsing with his great army the few that opposed him. Sertorius, not being in a condition to give him battle, retired with three thousand men to New Carthage; where he em- barked, and crossed over to Africa. The Mauru- sian coast was the land he touched upon; and his men going upon shore there to water, and not being on their guard, the barbarians fell upon them, and killed a considerable number: so that lie was forced to make back for Spain. He found the coasts guarded, and that it was impracticable to make descent there; but having met with some vessels of Ciliciun pirates, he persuaded them to join him, and made his landing good in the isle of Pitiusa,* forcing his way through the guards which Annius had placed there. Soon after Annius made his appearance with a numerous fleet, on board of which were five thousand men* Sertorius ventured to engage him; though his vessels were small, and made rather for swift sailing than strength. But a vio- Jiow Idea. lent west-wind springing up, raised such a storm, that the greatest part of Sertorius's ships, being too light to bear up against it, were driven upon the rocky shore. Sertorius himse'f was pre- vented by the storm from making his way at sea, and by the enemy from landing; so that he was tossed about by the waves for ten days together, and at last escaped with great difficulty. At length the wind abated, and he ran in among some scattered islands in that quarter. There he landed; but finding they were without water, he put to seu again, crossed the Straits of Gades, and keeping to the right, landed a little above the mouth of the river Buelis, which run- ning through a large tract to discharge itself in the Atlantic Ocean, gives name to all that part of Spain through which it passes.* There he found some mariners lately arrived from the Atlantic Islands.f These are two in number, separated only by a narrow channel, and are at the distance of tour hundred leagues! from the African coast. They are called the Fortunate Islands. Rain sel- dom falls there, and when it does, it falls mode- rately: but they generally have soft breezes, which scatter such rich dews, that the soil is not oyjy good for sowing and planting, but spontaneously produces the most excellent fruits, and those in such abundance, that the inhabitants have nothing more to do than to indulge themselves in the en- joyment of ease. The air is always pleasant and salubrious, through the happy temperature of the seasons, and their insensible transition into each other. For the north and east winds which blow from our continent, in the immense tract they have to pass, are dissipated and lost: while the sea winds, that is, the south and the west, bring with them from the ocean slight and gentle showers, but ottener only a refreshing moisture, which imperceptibly scatters plenty on their plains. So that it is generally believed even among the barbarians, that these are the Elysian Fields, and the seats of the blessed, which Homer has described in the charms of verse. Sertorius hearing these wonders, conceived a strong desire to fix himself in those islands, where he might live in perfect tranquillity, at a distance from the evils of tyranny and war. The Cili- cians, who wanted neither peace nor repose, but riches and spoils, no sooner perceived this, than they bore away for Africa, to restore Ascalis the son of Iphtha to the throne of Mauritania. Ser- torius, far from giving himself up to despair, re- solved to go and assist the people who were at war with Ascrtlis, in order to open to his troops an- other prospect in this new employment, and to pre- vent their relinquishing him for want of support. His arrival was very acceptable to the Moors, and he soon beat Ascalis in a pitched battle; after which he besieged him in the place to which he retired. Hereupon, Sylla interposed, and sent Paccianus with a considerable force to the assistance of As- calis. Sertorius meeting him in the field, defeated and killed him; and having incorporated his troops with his own, assaulted and took the city of Tin- gis, || v\hither Ascalis and his brothers hud fled for refuge. The Africans tell us the body of Antaeus lies there: and Sertorius, not giving credit to what the barbarians related of his gigantic size, opened * Battica, now Jlndalusia, t The Canaries. t In the original ten thousand furlongs. Odyss. iv. || In the text Tingene. Strabo tells us, the barbarian* call it Tingu, that Artemidorus gives it the name of Lingo, ajuu ilratostheues uu.u <jt Luus. SERTORIUS. 377 his tomb for satisfaction. But how great was his surprise, when (according to the account we have of it) he beheld a body sixty cubits long. He immediately offered sacrifices, and closed up the tomb; which added greatly to the respect and re- putation it had before. The people of Tingis relate, that after the death of Antajus, Hercules took his widow Tinga to his bed, and had by her a son named Sophax, who reigned over that country, and founded a city to which he gave his mother's name. They add, that Diodorus, the son of Sophax, subdued many African nations with an army of Greeks, which he raised out of the colonies of Olbians and My- ceneans settled here by Hercules. These particu- lars we mention for the sake of Juba, the. best of all royal historians; for he is said to have been a descendant of Sophax and Diodorus, the son and giandson of Hercules. Sertorius having thus cleared the field, did no sort of harm to those who surrendered themselves or placed a confidence in him. He restored them their possessions and cities, and put the govern- ment in their hands again; taking nothing for himself but what they voluntarily offered him. As he was deliberating which way he should next turn his arms, the Lusitanians sent ambassa- dors to invite him to take the command among them. For they wanted a general of his reputation and experience, to support them against the terror of the Roman eagles; and he was the only one on whose character and firmness they could properly depend. Indeed, he is said to have been proof against the impressions both of pleasure and fear; intrepid in time of danger, and not too much elated with more prosperous fortune; in any great aud sudden attempt as daring as any general of his time, and where art and contrivance, as well as dispatch, was necessary for seizing a pass or securing a stronghold, one of the greatest masters of stratagem in the world; noble and generous in rewarding great actions, and in punishing offenses very moderate. It is true his treatment of the Spanish hostages in the latter part of his life, which bore such strong marks of cruelty and revenge, seems to argue that the clemency he showed before, was not a real virtue in him, but only a pretended one, taken up to suit his occasions. I think, indeed, that the virtue which is sincere, and founded upon reason, can never be so conquered by any stroke what- ever, as to give place to the op'posite. Yet dispo- sitions naturally humane and good, by great and undeserved calamities may possibly be soured a little, and the man may change with his fortune. This, I am persuaded, was the case of Sertorius; when fortune forsook him, his disposition was sharpened by disappointment, and he became se- vere to those who injured or betrayed him. At present having accepted the invitation to Lasitauia, he took his voyage from Africa thither. Upon his arrival he was invested with full autho- rity as general, and levied forces, with which he reduced the neighboring provinces. Numbers voluntarily came over to him, on account of his reputation for clemency as well as the vigor of his proceedings. And to these advantages he added artifices to amuse and gain the people. That of the hind was none of the least* Spa- us, a countryman who lived in those parts, hap- pening to fall in with a hind which had newly yeaned, and which was flying from the hunters, failed in his attempt to take her; but, charmed with the uncommon color of the fawn, which was Sertorins had learned these arts of Marias. a perfect white, he pursued and took it B/ good fortune Sertorius had his camp in tha neighbor- hood; and whatever was brought to him taken in hunting, or of the production of the field, he re- ceived with pleasure, and returned the civility with interest. The countryman went and offered him the fawn. He received this present like the rest, and at first took no extraordinary notice of it. But in time it became so tractable and fond of him, that it would come when he called, follow him wherever he went, and learned to bear the hurry and tumult of the camp. By little and little, he brought the people to believe there was something sacred and mysterious in the affair: giving it out that the fawn was a gift from Diana, and that it discovered to him many important secrets. For he knew the natural power of super- stition over the minds of the barbarians. In pur- suance of his scheme, when the enemy was mak- ing a private irruption into the country under his command, or persuading some city to revolt, he pretended the fawn had appeared to him in a dream, and warned him to have his forces ready. And if he had intelligence of some victory gained by his officers, he used to conceal the messenger, audproducethe fawn crowned with flowers for its goou tidings; bidding the people rejoice and sacri- ! rice to the gods, on account of some news they 1 would soon hear. By this invention he made them so tractable that they obeyed his orders in everything without hesitation, no longer considering themselves as under the conduct of a stranger, but the immedi- ate direction of Heaven. And the astonishing increase of his power, far beyond all they could rationally expect, confirmed them in that persua- sion. For, with two thousand six hundred men, whom he called Romans (though among them there were seven hundred Africans, who came over with him) and an addition of four thousand light-armed Lusitanians and seven hundred horse, he carried on the war against four Roman gen- erals, who had a hundred and twenty thousand foot, six thousand horse, two thousand archers and slingers, and cities without number under their command; though at first he had twenty cities only. Nevertheless, with so trifling a force, and such small beginnings, he subdued several great nations, and took many cities. Of the generals that opposed him, he beat Gotta at sea in the straits over against Mellaria; he defeat- ed Phidius* who had the chief command in Basi- lica, and killed four thousand Romans upon the banks of the Boetis. By his quaestor he beat Dornitius and Lucius Manlius, proconsul of the other Spain; he likewise slew Thoranias,f one of the officers sent against him by Metellus, together with his whole army. Nay, Metellus himself, a general of as great reputation as any of the Ro- mans then had, was entangled by him in such difficulties, and reduced to such extremities, that he was forced to call in Lucius Lollius from Gal- lia Narbonensis, to his assistance, and Pompey the Great was sent with another army from Rome with the utmost expedition. For Metellus knew not what measures to take against so daring an enemy, who was continually harassing him, and, yet would not come to a pitched battle, and who, by the lightness and inactivity of the Spanish troops, turned himself into all manner of forms. * Xylander has it Didius, which is agreeable to some manuscripts; Cruserius, upon conjecture only, reads it Jlu. jinius. Krienshem. in liis Supplement to Livy (xo. 28,) f calls this general Furfidius; and he might do authority of some ancient manuscript of Plutarc it upon rch. 378 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. He was sufficiently skilled, indeed, in set battles, and he commanded a firm heavy-armed infantry, which knew how to repulse and bear down any- thing that would make head against them, but had no experience in climbing mountains, or capa- city to vie in flying, and pursuing men as swift as the wind. Nor could his troops bear hunger, eat anything undressed, or lie upon the ground with- out tents, like those of Sertorius. Beside, Metel- lus was now advanced in years, and after his many campaigns and long service, had begun to indulge himself in a more delicate way of living; whereas Sertorius was in the vigor of his age, full of spirits, and had brought strength and activity to the greatest perfection by exercise and abstemi- ousness. He never indulged in wine, even when he had nothing else to do; and he had accustom- ed himself to bear labor and fatigue, to make long marches, and pass many successive nights without sleep, thougJfi supported all the while with mean and slender diet. By bestowing his leisure on hunting and traversing all the country for game, he had gained such a knowledge of the impractica- ble as well as open parts of it, that when he want- ed to fly, he found no manner of difficulty in it, and if he had occasion to pursue or surround the enemy, he could execute it with ease. Hence it was that Metellus, in being prevent- ed from coming to any regular action, suffered all the inconveniences of a defeat; and Sertorius gain- ed as much by flying as he could have done by conquering and pursuing. For he cut his adver- sary off from water, and prevented his foraging. If the Romans began to march, he was on the wing to harass them; and if they sat still, he galled them in such a manner, that they were forced to quit their post. If they invested a town, he was soon upon them, and by cutting off their convoys, as it were, besieged the besiegers: insomuch, that they began to give up the point, and to call upon Metellus to accept the challenge that Sertorius had given, insisting that general should fight with general, and Roman with Ro- man; and when he declined it, they ridiculed and abused him. Metellus only laughed at tliem, and he did perfectly right; for, as Tlieophrastus says, " A general should die like a general, and not like a common soldier." He found that the Langobritse were very ser- viceable to Sertorius, and perceived at the same time, that he might soon bring them to surrender for want of water; for they had but one well in the city, and an enemy might immediately make himself master of the springs in the suburbs, and under the walls. He, therefore, advanced against the town; but concluding he should take it within two days, he ordered his troops to take only five days' provisions with them. But Sertorius gave the people speedy assistance. He got two thou- sand skins, and filled them with water, promising a good reward for the care of each vessel or skin. A number of Spaniards and Moors offered their service on this occasion; and having selected the strongest and swiftest of them, he sent them along the mountains with orders, when they delivered these vessels, to take all useless persons out of the town, that the water might be fully sufficient for the rest during the whole course of the siege. When Metellus was informed of this maneuver, he was greatly concerned at it; and as his pro- visions brgan to fail, he sent out Aquilius with six thousand men to collect fresh supplies. Ser- torius who had early intelligence of it, laid an ambush for Aquilius, and upon his return, three thousand men, who were placed in the shady channel of a brook for the purpose, rose up and attacked him in the rear. At the same time Ser- torius himself charged him in front, killed a con- siderable number of his party, and took the rest prisoners. Aquilius got back to Metellus, but with the loss both of his horse and his arms; whereupon Metellus retired with disgrace, greatly insulted and ridiculed by the Spaniards. This success procured Sertorius the admiration and esteem of the Spaniards; but what charmed them still more was, that he armed them in the Roman manner, taught them to keep their ranks, and to obey the word of command; so that, in- stead of exerting their strength in a savage and disorderly manner, and behaving like a multitude of banditti, he polished them into regular forces. Another agreeable circumstance was, that he fur- nished them with abundance of gold and silver to gild their helmets, and enrich their shields; and that he taught them to wear embroidered vests, and magnificent coats; nor did he give them sup- plies only for these purposes, but he set them the example.* The finishing stroke was, his collect- ing from the various nations, the children of the nobility to the great city of Osca,f and his fur- nishing them with masters to instruct them in the Grecian and Roman literature. This had the ap- pearance only of an education, to prepare them to be admitted citizens of Rome, and to fit them for important commissions; but, in fact, the children were so many hostages. Meanwhile the parents were delighted to see their sons in gowns bor- dered with purple, and walking in great state to the schools, without any expense to them. For Sertorius took the whole upon himself, often ex- amining beside, into the improvements they made, and distributing proper rewards to those of most merit, among which were the golden orna- ments, furling down from the neck, called by the Romans, bulla. It was then the custom in Spain, for the band which fought near the general's person, when he fell to die with him. This manner of devoting themselves to death, the barbarians call a Liba- tion4 The other, generals had but a few of these guards or knights companions; whereas Sertorius was attended by many myriads, who had laid themselves under that obligation. It is said, that when he was once defeated near the walls of a town, and the enemy were pressing hard upon him, the Spaniards, to save Sertorius, exposed themselves without any precaution. They pass- ed him upon their shoulders, from one to another until he had gained the walls, and when their general was secure, then they dispersed, and fled tor their own lives. Nor was he beloved by the Spanish soldiers only, but by those which came from Italy too. When Perpenna Vento, who was of the same party with Sertorius, came into Spain with a great quantity of money, and a respectable army, intending to proceed in his operations against Me- tellus upon his own bottom; the troops disliked the scheme, and nothing was talked of in the camp but Sertoiius. This gave great uneasiness to Perpenna, who was much elated with his high birth and opulent fortune. Nor did the matter stop here. Upon their having intelligence that Pornpey had passed the Pyrenees, the soldiers took up their arms and standards, and loudly called Alexander had taken the same method, before him among the Persians. For he ordered thirty thousand Per- *ian boys to be taught Greek, and trained in the Macedo- nian manner. t A city in Hispania Tarraconensis. t In Gaul, the persons who laid themselves under thii obligation, were called Soldarii. Cas. de Bell. Gall. 1. iil. SERTORIUS. 379 Upon Perpenna to lead them to Sertorius; threat- ening if he would not comply, to leave him, and go to a general who knew how to save both him- self and those under his command. So that Per- penna was forced to yield, and he went and joined Sertorius with fifty-three cohorts.* Sertorius now found himself at the head of a great army; for, beside the junction of Per- penna, all the countries within the Iberus hud adopted his interest, and troops were daily flock- fng in on all sides. But it gave him pain to see them beluive with the disorder and ferocity of barbarians; to find them calling upon him to give the signal to charge, and impatient of the least delay. He tried what mild representations would do, and they had no effect. They still continued obstinate and clamorous, often demanding the combat in a very unseasonable manner. At last Lie permitted them t engage in their own way, in consequence of which they would suffer great loss, though he designed to prevent their being entirely defeated. These checks, he hoped, would make them more willing to be under discipline. The event answered his expectation. They fought and were beaten; but making up with succors, he rallied the fugitives, and conducted them safe into the camp. His next step was to rouse them up out of their despondence. For which purpose, a few days after, he assembled all his forces, and produced two horses before them; the one old and feeble, the other large and strong, and remarkable beside for a fine flowing tail. By the poor weak horse stood a robust able-bodied man, and by the strong horse stood a little man qf a very contemptible appearance. Upon a sig- nal given, the strong man began.to pull and drag about the weak horse by the tail, as if he would pull it off; and the little rnan to pluck off the hairs of the great horse's tail, one by one. The former tugged and toiled a long time to the great diversion of the spectators, and at last was forced to give up the point; the latter, without any diffi- culty, soon stripped the great horse's tail of all its hair.f Then Sertorius rose up and said, " You see, my friends and fellow-soldiers, how much greater are the effects of perseverance, than those of force, and that there are many things invinci- ble in their collective capacity and in a state of union, which may gradually be overcome, when they are once separated. In short, perseverance is irresistible. By this means, time attacks and destroys the strongest things upon earth. Time, I say, who is the best friend and ally to those that have the discernment to use it properly, and watch the opportunities it presents, and the worst enemy to those who will be rushing into action when it does not call them." By such symbols as these, Sertorius applied to the senses of the barbarians, and instructed them to wait for proper junctures and occasions. But his contrivance with respect to the Cha- racitani gained him as much admiration as any of his military performances whatever. The Cha- racitani are seated beyond the river Tagus. They have neither cities nor villages, but dwell upon a large and lofty hill, in dens and caverns of the rocks, the mouths of which are all to the north. The soil of all the country about is a clay, so very light and crumbly, that it yields to the pressure of the foot, is reduced to powder by the least touch, and flies about like ashes or unslacked lime. The barbarians, whenever they are appre- hensive of an attack, retire to these caves with * A cohort is the tenth part of a legion. t Horace alludes to Uiis, 1. ii, Ep. 1. their booty, and look upon themselves as in a place perfectly impregnable. It happened that Sertorius, retiring to some dis- tance from Metellus, encamped under this hill; and the savage inhabitants imagining he retired only because he was beaten, offered him several insults. Sertorius, either provoked at such treatment, or willing to show them he was not flying from an enemy, mounted his horse the next day, and went to reconnoiter the place. As he could see no part in which it was accessible, he almost despaired of taking it, and could only vent his anger in vain menaces. At last he observed, that the wind blew the dust in great quantities toward the mouths of the caves, which, as I said before, are all to the north. The north wind, which some call Caseins* prevails most in those parts; taking its rise from the marshy grounds, and the mountains covered with snow. And, as it was then the hight of summer, it was remarkably strong, having fresh supplies from the melting of the ice on the north- ern peaks; so that it blew a most agreeable gale, which, in the day-time, refreshed both these sa- vages and their flocks. Sertorius, reflecting upon what he saw, and being informed by the neighboring Spaniards that these were the usual appearances, ordered his sol- diers to collect vast quantities of that dry and crumbly earth, so as to raise a mount of it over against the hill. The barbarians, imagining he intended to storm their strongholds from that mount, laughed at his proceedings. The soldiers went on with their work until night, and then he led them back into the camp. Next morning, at break of day, a gentle breeze sprung up,f which moved the lightest part of the heap, and dispersed it like smoke, and as the sun got up higher, the Coecias blew again, and, by its violence, covered all the hill with dust. Meantime, the soldiers stirred up the heap from the very bottom, and crumbled all the clay; and some galloped up and down, to raise the light earth, and thicken the clouds of dust in the wind, which carried them into the dwellings of the Characitani; their en- trances directly facing it. As they were caves, and, of course, had no other aperture, the eyes of the inhabitants were soon filled, and they could scarce, breathe for the suffocating dust which they drew in with the air. In these wretched circum- stances, they held out two days; though with great difficulty, and the third day surrendered themselves to Sertorius, at discretion; who, by reducing them, did not gain such an accession of strength as of honor. For an honor it was to subdue those by policy, whom his arms could not reach. While he carried on the war against Metollus only, his success in general was imputed to the old age and inactivity of his adversary, who had to contend with a bold young man, at the head of troops so light, that they might pass rather for a marauding party, than a regular army. But when Pompey had passed the Pyrenees, and Sertoriu took post against him, every art of general ship on both sides was exhausted; and yet, even then it appeared, that, in point both of attack and defense, Sertorius had the advantage. In this case, the fame of Sertorius greatly increased, and extended itself as far as Rome, where he was considered the ablest general of his time. Indeed, the honor Pompey had acquired was very consid- erable, and the actions he had performed under Sylla, set him in a very respectable light, inso- much, that Sylla had given him the appellation Media inter Aquilonem et Exortum ^Equinoctialenu Plln. 1. ii, c. 47. t Warrant et in Ponto Csecian in se trahere nubei. A. 380 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. of tlv> Great, and he was distinguished with a tri- umph, even before he wrote man. This made many of the cities, which were under the command of Sertorius, cast their eyes upon Pompey, and in- clined them to open their gates to him. But they returned to their old attachment, upon the unex- pected success that attended Sertorius atLauron.* Sertorius was besieging that place, and Pompey marched with his whole army to its relief. There was a hill at some distance from the walls, from which the city might be greatly annoyed. Ser- torius hastened to seize it, and Pompey to prevent him: but the former gained the post. Pompey, however, sat down by it, with great satisfaction, thinking he had been fortunate enough to cut Sertorius off from the town; and he sent a mes- sage to the Lauronites, " That they might be per- fectly easy, and sit quietly upon their walls, while they saw him besiege Sertorius." But when that general was informed of it, he only laughed, and said, " I will teach that scholar of Sylla " (so in ridicule he called Pompey), " that a general ought to look behiitu him, rather than before him." At the same time, he showed the besieged a body of six thousand foot in the camp which he had quit- ted in order to seize the hill, and which had been left there on purpose to take Pompey in the rear, when he should come to attack Sertorius in the post he now occupied. Pompey, not discovering this maneuver until it was too late, did not dare to begin the attack, lest he should be surrounded. And yet, he was ashamed to leave the Lauronites in such extreme danger. The consequence was, that he was obliged to sit still and see the town lost. The people, in despair of assistance, surrendered to Sertorius, who was pleased to spare the inhabit- ants, and let them go free; but he laid their cities in ashes. This was not done out of anger, or a spirit of cruelty (for he seems to have indulged his resentment less than any other general what- ever), but to put the admirers of Pompey to the blush; while it was said among the barbarians, that though he was at hand, and almost warmed him- self at the flame, he suffered his allies to perish. It is true, Sertorius received many checks in the course of the war; but it was not where he acted in person; for he ever continued invincible; it was through his lieutenants. And such was his manner of rectifying the mistakes, that he met with more applause than his adversaries in the midst of their success. Instances of which we have in the battle of Sucro with Pompey, and in that of Tuttiaf with Pompey and Metellus. As to the battle of Sucro, we are told it was fought the sooner, because Pompey hastened it, to prevent Metellus from having a share in the vic- tory. This was the very thing Sertorius wanted, to try his strength with Pompey, before Metellus joined him. Sertorius came up and engaged him in the evening. This he did out of choice, in the persuasion that the enemy, not being acquainted with the country, would find darkness a hindrance to them, whether they should have occasion to fly or to pursue. When they came to charge, he found that he had not to do with Pompey, as he could have wished, but that Afranius commanded the enemy's left wing, opposite to him, who was at the head of his own right wing. However, as soon as he understood that the left gave way to the vigorous impressions of Pompey, he put his right Under the direction of other" officers, and A city of Hither Spain, five leagues from Valencia. t Gisev'ius conjectures, that we should read Turia, the Twiua being a river which falls into the Sucro. hastened to support that which had the disadvan- tage. By rallying the fugitives, and encouraging those who kept their ground, he forced Pompey to fly in great confusion, who before was pursu- ing: nay, that general was in the greatest danger- he was wounded, and got off with difficulty. For the Africans, who fought under the banners of Sertorius, having taken Pompey's horse, adorned with gold and other rich furniture, left the pur- suit, to quarrel about dividing the spoil. In the meantime, when Sertorius was flown from his right wing to succor the other in distress, Afra- nius overthrew all before him, and closely pursued the fugitives, entered their camp with them, which he pillaged until it was dark; he knew nothing of Pompey's defeat, and was unable to keep the soldiers from plundering, if he had desired it. At this instant, Sertorius returns with the laurels he had won, falls upon the troops of Afranius, which were scattered up and down the camp, and de- stroys great numbers of them. Next morning he armed, and took the field again; but perceiving that Metellus was at hand, he drew off and de- camped. He did it, however, with an air of gay- ety: "If the old woman," said he, " had not been, here, I would have flogged the boy well, and seal him back to Rome." He was, notwithstanding, much afflicted for the loss of his hind. For she was an excellent engine in the management of the barbarians, who now wanted encouragement more than ever. By good fortune, some of his soldiers, as they were stroll- ing one night about the country, met with her, and knowing her by the color, brought her to him. Sertorius, happy to find her again, pro- mised the soldiers large sums, on condition they would not mention the affair. He carefully con- cealed the hind; and a few days after, appeared in public, with a cheerful countenance, to transact business, telling the barbarian officers that he had some extraordinary happiness announced to him from heaven in a dream. Then he mounted the tribunal, for the dispatch of such affairs as might come before him. At that instant the hind, being let loose near the place by those who had the charge of her, and seeing Sertorius, ran up with, great joy, leaped upon the tribunal, laid her head upon his lap. and licked his right hand, in a man- ner to which she had long been trained. Serto* rius returned her caresses with all the tokens of a sincere affection, even to the shedding of tear* The assembly at first looked on with silent aston- ishment: but afterward they testified their regard for Sertorius with the loudest plaudits and accla- mations, as a person of a superior nature, beloved by the gods. With these impressions, they con- ducted him to his pavilion, and resumed all the hopes and spirits with which he could have wished to inspire them. He watched the enemy so close in the plains of Saguntum, that they were in great want of pro- visions; and as they were determined at last to go out to forage and collect necessaries, this una voidably brought on a battle. Great acts of valor were performed on both sides. Memmius, the best officer Pompey had, fell in the hottest of the fight. Sertorius carried all before him, and through heaps of the slain made his way toward Metellus^ who made great efforts to oppose him, and fought with a vigor above his years, but at last was borne down with the stroke of a spear. All the Ro- mans, who saw or heard of this disaster, resolved not to abandon their genera!, and from an impulse of shame as well as anger, they turned upon the enemy, and sheltered Metellus with their shields, until others carried him oft' in safety. Then they S ERTORIUS. 381 charged the Spaniards with great fury, and routed them in their turn. As victory had now changed sides, Sertorius, to secure a safe retreat for his troops, as well as convenient time for raising fresh forces, had the art to retire into a city strongly situated upon a mountain. He repaired the walls, and barricaded the gates, us though he thought of nothing less than standing a siege. Tiie enemy, however, were de- ceived by appearances. They invested the place, and, in the imagination that they should make themselves masters of it without difficulty, took no care to pursue the fugitive barbarians, or to prevent the new levies which the officers of Ser- torius wore making. These officers he had sent to the towns under his command, with instruc- tions, when they had assembled a sufficient num- ber, to send a messenger to acquaint him with it. Upon the receipt of such intelligence, he sallied out, and having made his way through the enemy without much trouble, he joined his new-raised troops, and returned with that additional strength. He now cut off the Roman convoys both by sea and land: at land, by laying ambushes or hem- ming them in, and, by the rapidity of his motions, meeting them in every quarter: at sea, by guard- ing the coast with his light piratical vessels. In consequence of this, the Romans were obliged to separate. Metellus retired into Gaul, and Pompey went and took up his winter quarters in the terri'- ories of the Vacceians, where he was greatly dis- ..ressed for want of money, insomuch that he Informed the senate, he should soon leave the country, if they did not supply him; for he had already sacrificed his own fortune in the defense of Italy. Indeed, the common discourse was, that Sertorius would be in Italy before Pompey. So far had his capacity prevailed over the most dis- tinguished and the ablest generals in Rome. The opinion which Metellus had of him, and the dread of his abilities, was evident from a pro- clamation then published; in which Metellus offer- ed a reward of a hundred talents of silver, and twenty thousand acres of land, to any Roman who should take him; and if that Roman was an exile, he promised he should be restored to his country. Thus he plainly discovered his despair of conquering his enemy, by the price which he set upon him. When he once happened to defeat him in a pitched battle, he was so elated with the advantage, and thought the event so fortunate, that he suffered himself to be saluted as Imperator; and the cities received him with sacrifices and every testimony of gratitude to the gods at their altars. Nay, it is said, he received crowns of vic- tory, that he made most magnificent entertain- ments on the occasion, and wore a triumphal robe. Victories, in effigy, descended in machines, with trophies of gold and garlands in their hands; and choirs of boys and virgins sung songs in his praise. These circumstances were extremely ridi- culous, if he expressed so much joy and such superabundant vanity, while he called Sertorius a fugitive from Sylla, and the poor remains of Carbo's faction. On the other hand, the magnanimity of Sertorius appeared in every step he took. The patricians, who had been obliged to fly from Rome, and take refuge with him, he called a senate. Out of them he appointed qua>stors and lieutenants, and in everything proceeded according to the laws of his country. What was of still greater moment, though he made war only with the arms, the money, and the men of Spain, he did not suf- fer the Spaniards to have the least share in any department of government, even in words or titles. He gave them Roman generals and governors; to make it appear that the liberty of Rome was hia great object, and that hojdid not want to set up the Spaniards against the Romans. In fact, he was a true lover of his country, and his passion tc be restored to it, was one of the first in his heart Yet, in his greatest misfortunes, he never depart- ed from his dignity. On the other hand, when he was victorious, he would make an offer to Metel- lus or Pompey, to lay down his arms, on condi- tion he might be permitted to return in the capa- city of a private man. He said he had rather be the meanest citizen in Rome, than an exile with the command of all the other countries in the world. This love of his country is said to have been in some measure owing to the attachment he had to his mother. His father died in his infancy, and he had his education wholly from her; con- sequently his affections centered in her. His Spanish friends wanted to constitute him supreme governor; but having information at that time of the death of his mother, he gave himself up to the most alarming grief. For seven whole days he neither gave the word, nor would be seen by any of his friends. At last his generals, and others who were upon a footing with him in point of rank, beset his tent, and insisted that he should rise from the ground and make his appearance, to speak to the soldiers, and to take the direction of their affairs, which were then as prosperous as he could desire. Hence many imagined, that he was naturally of a pacific turn, and a lover of tran- quillity, but he was brought against his inclina- tion, by some means or other, to take upon him the command; and that when he was hard pressed by his enemies, and had no other shelter but that of war to fly to, he had recourse to it merely in the way of self-defense. We cannot have greater proofs of his magnani- mity than those that appear in his treaty with Mithridates. That prince, recovering from the fall given him by Sylla, entered the lists again, and renewed his pretensions to Asia. By this time the fame of Sertorius had extended itself into all parts of the world. The merchants who traded to the west, carried back news of his achievements, like commodities from a distant country, and filled Pontus with his renown. Hereupon Mithridates determined to send an embassy to him; induced to it by the vain speeches of his flatterers, who compared Sertorius to Hannibal, and Mithridates to Pyrrhus, and insisted that the Romans would never he able to bear up against two such powers and two persons of such genius and abilities, when attacked by them in different quarters; the one being the most excellent of generals, and the other the greatest of kings. In pursuance of this scheme, Mithridates sent ambassadors into Spain, with letters to Sertorius, and proposals to be made in conference; the pur- port of which was that the king would supply him with money and ships for the war, on condition that he confirmed his claim to Asia, which he had lately given up to the Romans in the treaty with Sylla. Sertorius assembled his council, which he call- ed the Senate. They were unanimous in their opinions that he should accept the condiliong,and think himself happy in them; since they were only asked an empty name and title to things which it was not in their power to give, and the king in return would supply them with what they most wanted. But Sertorius would by no means agree to it. He said, he had no objection to that prince's having Bithynia and Cappadocia, coun- tries accustomed to kingly government, and not belonging to the Romans by any just title; but as 882 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. to a province to which the Romans had an un- deniable claim; a province which they had been deprived of by Mithrid^tes, which he afterward lost to Fimbria, and at last had quitted upon the peace with Syllu, he could never consent that he should be put in possession of it again. " Rome," said he, " ought to have her power extended by my victories, and it is not my right to rise to power at her expense. A man who has any dignity of sentiment, should conquer with honor, and not use any base means even to save his life." Mithridates was perfectly astonished at this answer, and thus communicated his surprise to his friends: " What orders would Sertorius give us, when seated in the senate-house at Rome, if now, driven as he is to the coasts of the Atlantic ocean, he prescribes bounds to our empire, and threatens us with war if we make any attempt upon Asia?" The treaty, however, went on, and was sworn to. Mithridates was to have Cappa- docia and Bithynia, and Sertorius to supply him with a general and some troops; the king, on the other hand, was to furnish Sertorius with three thousand talents, and forty ships of war. The general whom Sertorius sent into Asia, was a senator who had taken refuge with him, named Marcus Marius. When Mithridates, by his assistance, had taken some cities in Asia, he per- mitted that officer to enter them with his rods and axes, and voluntarily took the second place as one of his train. Marius declared some of those cities free, and excused others from imposts and taxes, telling them they were indebted for these favors to Sertorius. So that Asia, which labored again under the exaction of the Roman tax-gatherers, and the oppressions and insults of the garrisons, had once more a prospect ol some happier mode of government. But in Spain, the senators about Sertorius, who looked upon themselves as on a footing with him, no sooner saw themselves as a match for the ene- my, than they bade adieu to fear, and gave into a foolish jealousy and envy of their general. At the head of these was Perpenua, who, elated with the vanity of birth, aspired to the command, and scrupled not to address his partisans in private with such speeches as these: "What evil demon possesses us, and leads us from bad to worse? We, who would not stay at home and submit to the orders of Sylla, who is master both of sea and land, what are we to come to? Did we not come here for liberty? Yet here we are voluntary slaves. Guards to the exiled Sertorius. We suf- fer ourselves to be amused with the title of a senate; a title despised and ridiculed by all the world. O noble senators, who submit to "the most mortifying tasks and labors, as much as the meanest Spaniards and Lusitanians!" Numbers were attacked with these and such like discourses; and though they did not openly revolt, because they dreaded the power of Serto- rius, yet they took private methods to ruin his affairs, by treating the barbarians ill, inflicting heavy punishments, and collecting exorbitant sub- sidies, as if by his order. Hence the cities began to waver in their allegiance, and to raise disturb- ances; and the persons sent to compose those dis- turbances by mild and gentle methods, made more enemies than they reconciled, and inflamed the rising spirit of disobedience; insomuch that Serto- rius, departing from his former clemency and moderation, behaved with great injustice and out- rage to the children" of the Spaniards in Osca, put- ting some to death, and selling others for slaves. The conspiracy daily gathered strength, and among the rest, Perpenna drew in Manlius,* who had a considerable command in the army. * * * * * * He and his partisans then prepared letters for Sertorius, which imported that a victory was gained by one of his great officers, and great num- bers of the enemy slain. Sertorius offered sacri- fice for the good tidings; and Perpenna gave hiir> and his own friends who were by, and who were all privy to the design, an invitation to suppec, which, with much entreaty, he prevailed upon him to accept. The entertainments at which Sertorius was present, had been always attended with great order and decorum; for he could not bear either to see or hear the least indecency, and he had ever accustomed the guests to divert themselves in an innocent and irreproachable manner. But in the midst of the entertainment, the conspirators began to seek occasion to quarrel, giving into the most dissolute discourse, and pretending drunken- ness as the cause of their ribaldry. All this was done to provoke him. However, either vexed at their obscenities and design, or guessing at thefr designs by the manner of their drawling them out, he changed his posture, and threw himself back upon his couch, as though he neither heard nor regarded them. Then Perpenna took a cup of wine, and as he was drinking, purposelv let it fall out of his hands. The noise it made being a signal for them to fall on, Antony, who sat next to Ser- torius, gave him a stroke with his sword. Serto- rius turned, and strove to get up; but Antony throwing himself upon his breast, held both his hands; so that not being able in the least to de- fend himself, the rest of the conspirators dispatch- ed him with many wounds. Upon the first news of his death, most of the Spaniards abandoned Perpenna, and by their dep- uties, surrendered themselves to Pompey and Metellus. Perpenna attempted something with those that remained; but though ie had the use of all that Sertorius had prepared, he made so 511 a figure, that it was evident he knew no more how to command than how to obey. He gave Pompey battle, and was soon routed and taken prisoner Nor in this last distress did he behave as became a general. He had the papers of Sertorius in his possession, and he offered Pompey the sight of original letters from men of consular dignity, and the greatest interest in Rome, by which they in- vited Sertorius into Italy, in consequence of the desire of numbers, who wanted a change in th* present state of affairs, and a new administration. Pompey, however,' behaved not like a young man, but with all the marks of a solid and im- proved understanding, and by his prudence de- livered Rome from a train of dreadful fears and new commotions. He collected all those letters, and the other papers of Sertorius, and burned them, without either reading them himself, or suffering any other person to do it. As for Per- penna, he put him to death immediately, lest he should mention the names of those who wrote the letters, and thence new seditions and troubles should arise. Perpenna's accomplices met the same fate: some of them being brought to Pompey, and by him ordered to the block, and others, wiio fled into Africa, shot by the Moors. None escaped but Aufidius, the rival of Manlius. W r hether it was that he could not be found, or they thought him not worth the seeking, he lived to old age in a village of the barbarians, wretchedly poor, and universally despised. * Dacier thinks we should read Manius, by which ha means Manius Jlntoniv-s, who gave tseriouus the first blow. E U M E N E S . 383 EUMENES. PURIS the historian writes, that Eumenes the Jardian was the son of a poor wagoner in the Chersonesus, and yet that he had a liberal educa- tion both as to learning and the exercises then in vogue.* He says that while he was but a lad, Philip happening to be in Cardia, went to spend an hour of leisure in seeing how the young men acquitted themselves in the pancration,^ and the boys in wrestling. Among these Eumenes suc- ceeded so well, and showed so much activity and address, that Philip was pleased with him, and took him into his train. But others assert, with a greater appearance of probability, that Philip preferred him on account of the ties of friendship and hospitality there were between him and the father of Eumenes. After the death of Philip, he maintained the reputation of being equal to any of Alexander's officers in capacity, and in the honor with which he discharged his commissions, and though he had only the title of principal secretary, he was looked upon in as honorable a light as the king's most intimate friends and counselors; insomuch that he had the sole direction of an Indian expe- dition, and upon the death of Hephcestion, when Perdiccas had the post of that favorite, he suc- ceeded Perdiccas. Therefore, when Neoptolemus, who had been the principal armor- bearer, took upon him to say, after the death of Alexander, u That he had borne the shield and spear of that monarch, and that Eumenes had only followed with his escritoir," the Macedonians only laughed at his vanity; knowing that, beside other marks of honor, Alexander had thought Eumenes not unworthy his alliance. For Barsine, the daughter of Artabuzus, who was the first lady Alexander took to his bed in Asia, and who brought him a son named Hercules, had two sisters; one of which, called Apama, lie gave to Ptolemy; and the other, called also Barsine, he gave to Eume- nes, at the time when he was selecting Persian ladies as wives for his friends4 Yet it must be acknowledged, he was often in disgrace with Alexander, and once or twice in danger too, on account of Hephrestion. In the first place, Hephaestion gave a musician, named Evius, the quarters which the servants of Eume- nes had taken up for him. Upon this, Eumenes went in great wrath to Alexander with Mentor,^ and cried, "The best method they could take, was to throw away their arms, and learn to play Upon the flute, or turn tragedians." Alexander * There were public schools, where children of all condi- ons were taught without distinction. t The pancratioii (as we have already observed) was a omposition of wrestling and boxing. t Alexander had married Statira, the eldest daughter of Darius, and given the youngest, named Trypetis, to Hepli- R.>tion. This \vas a measure well calculated for establish- ing him and his posterity on the Persian throne; but it was obnoxious to the Macedonians. Therefore, to support it on one hand, and to obviate inconveniences on the other, he selected eighty virgins out of the most honorable families in Persia, and persuaded his principal friends and officers to UK.IM the in. Mentor was brother to Memnon, whose widow Barsine wa Alexander's mistress. He was brother-in-law to Artti- kazns, and the second Barsine, whom Enmenes married, seems to have been daughter to Memnon, and Mentor's at first entered into his quarrel, and sharply re- buked Hephaestion ; but he soon changed his mind, and turned the weight of his displeasure upon Eumenes; thinking he had behaved with more disrespect to him than resentment against Hephaestion. Again; when Alexander wanted to send out Nearchus with a fleet to explore the coasts of the ocean, he found his treasury low, and asked his friends for a supply. Among the rest he applied to Eumenes for three hundred talents, who offered him only a hundred, and assured him, at the same time, he should find it difficult to collect that sum by his stewards. Alexander refused the offer, but did not remonstrate or complain. However, he ordered his servants privately to set fire to Eume- nes's tent, that he might be forced to carry out his money, and be openly convicted of the falsity. It happened that the tent was entirely consumed, and Alexander was sorry on account of the loss of his papers. There was gold and silver found melted, to the amount of more than a thousand talents, yet even then the king took none of it. And having written to all his grandees and lieu- tenants to send him copies of the dispatches that were lost, upon their arrival he put them again under the care of Eumenes. Some time after, another dispute happened be- tween him and Hephsstion, on account of some present from the king to one of them. Much severe and abusive language passed between them, yet Alexander, for the present, did not look upon Eumenes with less regard. But, Hephaestion dying soon after, the king, in his unspeakable affliction for that loss, expressed his resentment against all who he thought envied that favorite while he lived, or rejoiced at his death. Eume- nes was one of those whom he most suspected of such sentiments, and he often mentioned the differences, and the severe language those differ- ences had produced. Eumenes, however, being an artful man, and happy at expedients, made the very person through whom he had lost the king's favor, the means of regaining it. He seconded the zeal and application of Alexander to celebrate the memory of Hephsestion. lie suggested such instances of veneration as he thought might do much honor to the deceased, and contributed largely and freely, out of his own purse, toward the expenses of his funeral. Upon the death of Alexander, a great quarrel broke out between the phalanx and the late king's friends and generals. Eumenes, in his heart, sided with the phalanx, but in appearance stood neuter, as a person perfectly indifferent; saying, it did not become him, who was a stranger, to interfere in the disputes of the Macedonians. And when the other great officers retired from Babylon, he stayed there, endeavoring to appease that body of infantry, and to dispose them to a reconciliation. After these troubles were passed, and the gene- rals met to consult about dividing the provinces and armies among them, the countries assigned Eumenes, were Cappadocia and Paphlagonm, and the coast of the sea of Pontus as far as Trapezus. These countries were not then subject to the Ma- cedonians, for Arurathes was king of them; but 384 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Leonatus and Antigonus were to go with a great army and put Eurueaes in possession. Antigo- uus, now elalecl witli power, and despising all the world, gave no attention to the letters of Perdie- cas. But Leonatus marched down from the upper provinces into Phrygia, and promised to undertake the expedition for Eumenes. Immediately after this, ilecataeus, a petty tyrant in Cardia, applied to Leonatus, and desired him rather to go to the relief of Antipater and the Macedonians, who were besieged in Larnia. * Leonatus, being in- clined to go, called Eumenes, and attempted to reconcile him to HecatsEiis. They had long had a suspicion of each other on account of a family difference in point of politics; in consequence of which Eumenes had once -accused Hecataeus of setting himself up tyrant in Cardia, and had en- treated Alexander to restore that people to their liberty. He now desired to be excused taking a share in the Grecian expedition, alleging he was afraid Antipater, who had long hated him, to gra- tify himself as well as Hecatceus, would make some attempt upon his life. Upon which, Leona- tus, placing an entire confidence in him, opened to him all his heart. He told him the assisting Anlipater was nothing but a pretext, and that he designed, as soon as he landed in Greece, to assert his claim to Macedonia. At the same time he showed him letters from Cleopatra,f in which she invited him to Pella, and promised to give him her hand. Whether Eumenes was really afraid of Antipa- ter, or whether he despaired of any service from Leonatus, who was extremely obstinate in his temper, and followed every impulse of a precipi- tate ambition, he withdrew from him in the night with all his equipage, which consisted of three hundred horse, two hundred of his domestics well armed, and all his treasure, amounting to five thousand talents. With this he fled to Perdiccas; and as he acquainted that general with the secret designs of Leonatus, he was immediately taken into a high degree of favor, and admitted to a share in iiis councils. In a little time, too, Per- diccas in person conducted him into Oippadocia, with a great army; took Ariarathes prisoner, sub- dued all the country, and established Eumenes in that government: in consequence of which Eu- inenes put the cities under the direction of his friends, placed guards and garrisons with proper officers at their head, and appointed judges and superintendents of the revenue; Perdiccas leaving the entire disposition of those things to him. After this he departed with Perdiccas; choosing to give him that testimony of respect, and not thinking it consistent with his interest to be absent from his court. But Peraiccas, satisfied that he could himself execute the designs he was medi- tating, and perceiving that the provinces he had left behind required an able and faithful guardian, sent back Eumenes when he had reached Cilicia. The pretense was, that he might attend to the concerns of his own government; but the real intention, that he should secure the adjoining province of Armenia, which was disturbed by the practices of Neoptolernus. Neoptolemus was a man of sanguine pursuits, and unbounded vanity. Eumenes, however, en- deavored to keep him to his duty, by soothing applications. And as he saw the Macedonian infantry were become extremely insolent and audaoious, he applied himself to raising a body of cavalry which might be a counterpoise against * A city of Thessaly. t The sister of Alexander. them. For this purpose he remitted the taxes, and gave other immunities to those of his pro- vince who were good horsemen. He also bought a great number of horses, and distributed them among such of his courtiers as he placed the greatest confidence in; exciting them by honors and rewards, and training them to strength and skill by a variety of exercises. The Macedonians upon this were differently affected, some with astonishment, and others with joy, to see a body of cavalry collected, to the number of six thousand three hundred, and trained in so short a space of time. About that time Craterus and Antipater, having reduced Greece, passed into Asia, to overthrow the power of Perdiccas; and news was brought that their first intention was to enter Cappadocia. Perdiccas himself was engaged in war with Pto- lemy ; he therefore appointed Eumenes corn- mander-in-chief of the forces in Armenia and Cappadocia; and wrote to Alcetas and Neoptole- mus to obey the orders of that general, whom he had invested with discretionary powers. Alcetas plainly refused to submit to that injunction; al- leging that the Macedonians would be ashamed to fight Antipater; and as for Craterus, their affec- tion for him was such that they would receive him with open arms. On the other hand, it was visible that Neoptolemus was forming somo treacherous scheme against Eumenes; for when called upon, he refused to join him, and, instead of that, prepared to give him battle. This was the first occasion on which Eumenes reaped the fruits of his foresight and timely pre- parations. For, though his infantry were beaten, with his cavalry he put Neoptolemus to flight, and took his baggage. And while the phalanx were dispersed upon the pursuit, he fell upon them in such good order with his horse, that they were forced to lay down their arms, and take an oath to serve him. Neoptolemus collected some of the fugitives, and retired with them to Craterus and Antipater. They had already sent ambassa- dors to Eumenes, to desire him to adopt their in- terests, in reward of which, they would confirm to him the provinces he had, and give him others, with an additional number of troops: in which case he would find Antipater a friend instead of an enemy, and continue in friendship with Cra- terus instead of turning his arms against him. Eumenes made answer to these proposals, " That having long been on a footing of enmity with Antipater, he did not choose to be his friend, at a time when he saw him treating his friends as so many enemies. As for Craterus, he was ready to reconcile him to Perdiccas, and to compromise matters between them upon just and reasonable terms. But if he should begin hostilities, he should support his injured friend while he had an hour to live, and rather sacrifice life Hself than his honor." When this answer was reported to Antipatei and Craterus, they took some time to deliberate upon the measures they should pursue. Mean- while Neoptolemus arriving, gave them an ac- count of the battle he had lost, and requested assistance of them both, but particularly of Cra- terus. He said, " The Macedonians had so ex- traordinary an attachment to him, that if they saw But his hat, or heard one accent of his tongue, they would immediately run to him with their swords in their hands." Indeed, the reputation of Craterus was very great among them, and, after the death of Alexander, most of them wish- ed to be under his command. They remem- bered the risks he had run of embroiling himself EUMENES. 385 with Alexander for their sakes; how he had com- bated the inclinations for Persian fashions which insensibly grew upon him, and supported the cus- toms of his country against the insults of barbaric pomp and luxury. Craterus now sent Antipater into Cilicia, and faking a considerable part of the forces himself, marched along with Neoptolemus against Eu- incnes. If Eumenes foresaw his coming, and was prepared for it we may impute it to the vigilance necessary in a general; we see nothing in that of superior genius. But when, beside his conceal- ing from the enemy what they ought not to discover, he brought his own troops to action, without knowing who was their adversary, and made them serve against Craterus, without find- ing out that he was the officer they had to con- to nd with; in this we see characteristical proofs of generalship. For he propagated a report, that Neoptolemus, assisted by Pigris, was advancing Again with some CappacJocian and Paphlagonian horse. The night he designed to decamp, he fell into a sound sleep, and had a very extraordinary dream. He thought he saw two Alexanders pre- pared to try their strength against each other, and each at the head of a phalanx. Minerva came to support the one and Ceres the other. A sharp conflict ensued, in which the Alexander assisted by Minerva was defeated, and Ceres crowned the victor with a wreath of corn. He immediately concluded that the dream was in his favor, be- rause he had to fight for a country which was most of it in tilhige, and which had then so ex- cellent a crop, well advanced toward the sickle, that the whole face of it had the appearance, of a profound peace. He was the more confirmed in his opinion, when he found the enemy's word was Minerva and Alexander: and in opposition to it be gave Ceres and Alexander. At the same time, he ordered his men to crown themselves and to cover their arms, with ears of corn. He was seve- ral times upon the point of declaring to his princi- pal officers and captains what adversary they had to contend with; thinking it a hazardous under- taking to keep to himself a secret so important, and perhaps, necessary for them to know. Yet he abode by his first resolution, and trusted his uwn heart only with the danger that might ensue. When he came to give battle, he would not set any Macedonian to engage Craterus, but appointed to that charge two bodies of foreign horse, com- manded by Pharnabazus the son of Artabazus, and Phoenix of Tenedos. They had orders to ad- vance on the first sight of the enemy, and come to close fighting, without giving them time to re- tire; and if they attempted to speak or send any herald, they were not to regard it. For he had strong apprehensions that the Macedonians would go over to Craterus, if they happened to know him. Eumenes himself, with a troop of three hundred select horse, went and posted himself in the right wing, where he should have to act itguinst Neoptolemus. When they had passed a little hill that separated the two armies, and came in view, they charged with such impetuosity that Outerus was extremely surprised, and expressed his resentment in strong terms against Neoptole- mus, who he thought, had deceived him with a pretense that the Macedonians would change sides. However, he exhorted his officers to behave like hrnve men, and stood forward to the encounter. In the first shock, which was very violent, the upcars were soon broke, and they were then to dcide the dispute with the sword. The behavior of Craterus did no dishonor to Alexander. lie killed numbers with his own '25 hand, and overthrew many others who assailed him in front. But at last he received a side blovr from a Thracian which brought him to the ground. Many passwd over him without knowing him: but (iorgias, one of Eumenes's officers took notice of him; and being well acquainted with his person leaped from his horse and guarded the body. It was then, however, too late; he was at the last extremity, and in the agonies of death. In the meantime, Neoptolemus engaged Eu- menes. The most violent hatred had long sub- sisted between them, and this day added stings to it. They knew not one another in the two first encounters, but in the third they did; and then they rushed forward impetuously with swords drawn, and loud shouts. The shock their horse* met with was so violent, that it resembled that of two galleys. The fierce antagonists quitted the bridles, and laid hold on each other; each endea- voring to tear off" the helmet or the breast-plate of his enemy. While their hands were thus en- gaged, their horses went from under them; and as they fell to th* ground without quitting their hold, they wrestled for the advantage. Neoptolemus was beginning to rise first, when Eumenes wound- ed him in the ham, and by that means got upon his feet before him. Neoptolemus being wound- ed in one knee, supported himself upon the other, and fought with great courage underneath, but was not able to reach his adversary a mortal blow. At last, receiving a wound in the neck, he grew faint, and stretched himself upon the ground. Eumenes, with all the eagerness of in- veterate hatred, hastened to strip him of his arms, and loading him with reproaches, did not observe that his sword was still in his hand; so that Neop- tolemus wounded him under the cuirass, where it touches upon the groin. However, as the stroke was but feeble, the apprehensions it gave him were greater than the real hurt. When lie had despoiled his adversary, weak aa he was with the wounds he had received in his legs and arms, he mounted his horse and made up to his left wing, which he supposed might still be engaged with the enemy. There, being informed of the fate of Craterus, he hastened to him; and j finding his breath and senses not quite gone, he alighted from his horse, wept over him, and gave him his hand. Ona while he vented his execra- tions upon Neoptolemus, and another while he lamented his own ill fortune, and the cruel neces- sity he was under of coming to extremities with his most intimate friend, and either giving or re- ceiving the fatal blow. Eumenes won this battle about ten days after the former. And it raised him to a high rank of honor, because it brought him the palm both of capacity and courage, but at the same time it ex- posed him to the envy and hatred both of his allies and his enemies. It seemed hard to them, that a stranger, a foreign adventurer, should have de- stroyed one of the greatest and most illustrious of the Macedonians with the arrns of those very Macedonians. Had the news of the death of Cruterus been brought sooner to Perdiccas, none but he would have swayed the Macedonian scep- ter. But he was slain in a mutiny in Egypt, two days before the news arrived. The Macedonians were so much exasperated against Eumenes upon the late event that they immediately decreed his death. Antigonus and Antipater were to take tlie direction of the war which was to carry that de- cree into execution. Meantime Eumenes went to the king's horses which were pasturing upon mount Ida, and took such as he had occasion for, I but gave the keepers a discharge for them. Wheu 386 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Antipater was apprized of it, he laughed, and said, " He could not enough admire the caution of Eumenes, who must certainly expect to see the account of the king's goods and chattels stated either on one side or the other." Eumenes intended to give battle upon (he plains of Lydia, near Sardis, both because he was strong Jn cavalry, and because he was ambitious to show Cleopatra what a respectable force he had. How- ever, at the request of that princess, who was afraid to give Antipater any cause of complaint, he marched to the Upper Phrygia, and wintered In Celtenffi. There Alcetas, Polemon, and Doci- mus, contended with him for the command; upon which he said, " This makes good the observation, Everyone thinks of advancing himself, but no one thinks of the danger that may accrue to the public weal." He had promised to pay his army within three days, and as he had not money to do it, he sold them all the farms and castles in the country, to- gether with the people and cattle that were upon them. Every captain of a Macedonian company, or officer who had a command in the foreign troops, received battering engines from Eumenes; and when he had taken the castle, he divided his spoils among his company, according to the arrears due to each particular man. This restored him the affections of the soldiers; insomuch, that when papers were found in his camp, dispersed by the enemy, in which their generals promised a hun- dred talents and great honors to the man who should kill Eumenes, the Macedonians were highly incensed, and gave order that from that time he should have a body-guard of a thousand officer- men always about him, who should keep watch by turns, and be in waiting day and night. There was not a man who refused that charge; and they were glad to receive from Eumenes the marks of honor which those who were called the king's friends used to receive from the hands of royalty. For he too was empowered to distribute purple hats and rich robes, which were considered as the prin- cipal gifts the kings of Macedon had to bestow. Prosperity gives some appearance of higher sen- timents even to persons of mean spirit, and we Bee something of grandeur and importance about them in the elevation where Fortune has placed them. But he who is inspired by real fortitude and magnanimity, will show it most by the dignity of his behavior under losses, and in the most ad- verse fortune. So did Eu menus. When he had lost a battle to Antigonus in the territory of the Orcynians in Cappadocia, through the treachery of one of his officers, though lie was forced to fly himself, he did not suffer the traitor to escape the enemy, but took him and hanged him upon the. spot. In his flight he took a different way from the pursuers, and privately turned round in such a manner, as to regain the field of battle. There he encamped, in order to bury the dead, whom he collected, and burned with the door posts of the neighboring villages. The bodies of the officers and common soldiers were burned upon separate piles; and when he had raised great monuments of earth over them, he decamped. So that Anti- gonus coining that way afterward, was astonished at his firmness and intrepidity. Another time he fell in with the baggage of Antigonus, and could easily have taken it, together With many persons of free condition, a great number of slaves, and all the wealth which had been amassed in so many wars, and the plunder of so many countries. But he was afraid that his rppn, when po*Mwed of such riches and spoils, wow it' think themselves too heavy for flight, and be too effeminate to bear the hardships of long wandering from place to place: and yet time, he knew, was his principal resource for getting clear of Antigonus. On the other hand, he was sensible it would be extremely difficult to keep the Mace- donians from flying upon the spoil, when it wag so much within reach. He therefore ordered them to refresh themselves, and feed their horses, before they attacked the enemy. In the meantime he privately sent a messenger to Menander, who es- corted the baggage, to acquaint him, " That Eu- menes, in consideration of the friendship which had subsisted between them, advised him to pro- vide for his safety, and to retire as fast as possible from the plain, where he might easily be sur- rounded, to the foot of the neighboring mountain, where the cavalry could not act, nor auy troops fall upon his rear." Menander soon perceived his danger, and re- tired. After which, Eumenes sent out his scouts in the presence of all the soldiers, and commanded the latter tr arm and bridle their horses, in order for the attack. The scouts brought back an ac- count that Menander had gained a situation where he could not be taken. Hereupon Eumenes pre- tended great concern, and drew off his forces. We are told, that upon the report Menander made of this affair to Antigonus, the Macedonians launched out in the praises of Eumenes, and began to re- gard him with an eye of kindness, for acting so generous a part, when it was in his power to have enslaved their children and dishonored their wives. The answer Antigonus gave them was this: " Think not, my good friends, it was for your sakes he let them go; it was for his own. He did not choose to have so many shackles upon him, when he designed to fly." After this, Eumenes being forced to wander and fly from place to place, spoke to many of his sol- diers to leave him; either out of care for their safe- ty, or because he did not choose to have a body of men after him, who were too few to stand a battle, und too many to fly in privacy. And when he retired to the castle of Nora,* on the confines of Lycaonia and Cappadocia, with only five hundred horse and two hundred foot, there again he gave all such of his friends free leave to depart as did not like the inconveniences of the place and the meanness of diet,f and dismissed them with greut marks of kindness. In a little time Antigonus came up, and before he formed that siege, invited him to a conference. I'jUrnenes answered, "Antigonus had many friends and generals to take his place, in case of accidents to himself; but the troops he had the care of had none to command or to protect them after him." He therefore insisted that Antigonus should send hostages, if he wanted to treat with him in per- son. And when Antigonus wanted him to make his application to him first, as the greater man, he said " While I am master of my sword, I shall never think any man greater than myself." At last Antigonus sent his nephew Ptolemy into the fort as a hostage, and then Eumenes came out to him. They embraced with great tokens of cor- diality, having formerly been intimate friends and companions. In the conference, which lasted a considerable time, Eumenes made no mention of security for his own life, or of an amnesty for what was passed. Instead of that, he insisted on having the government of his provinces confirmed to * It was only two hundred and fifty pncet in circuiufV renoe. t A hundred le't nim upon this offer. EU ME NES. 88? him, and considerable rewarcs for his services beside; insomuch that all who attended on this occasion, admired his firmness, and were astonish- ed at his greatness of mind. During the interview, numbers of the Macedo- nians ran to see Eumenes; for, after the death of Craterus, no man was so much talked of in the army as he. But Antigonus, fearing they should offer him some violence, called to them to keep at a distance; and when they still kept crowding in, ordered them to be driven off with stones. At last he took him in his arms, and keeping off the multitude with his guards, with some difficulty got him safe again into the castle. As the treaty ended in nothing, Antigonus drew a line of circumvallation round the plaee, and having left a sufficient number of troops to carry on the siege, he retired. The fort was abundantly provided with corn, water, and salt, but in want of everything else requisite for the table. Yet witli this mean provision he furnished a cheerful entertainment for his friends, whom he invited in their turns; for he took care to season his provi- sions with agreeable discourse and the utmost cordiality. His appearance was indeed very en- gaging. His countenance had nothing of a fero- cious or war-worn turn, but was smooth and elegant; and the proportion of his limbs was so excellent that they might seem to have come from the chisel of the statuary. And though he was not very eloquent, he had a soft and persuasive way of speaking, as we may conclude from his epistles. He observed, that the greatest inconvenience to the garrison was the narrowness of the space in which they were confined, inclosed as it was witli smull houses, and the whole, of it not more than two furlongs in circuit; so that they were forced to take their food without exercise, and their horses to do the same. To remove the languor which is the consequence of that want, as well as to prepare them for flight, if occasion should ofler, he assigned a room fourteen cubits long, the largest in all the fort, for the men to walk in; and gave them orders gradually to mend their pace. As for the horses, he tied them to the roof of the stable with strong halters. Then he raised their heads and fore-parts with a pulley, until they could scarce touch the ground with their fore- feet, but, at the same time, they stood firm upon their hind-feet. In this posture the grooms plied them with the whip and the voice; and the horses, thus irritated, bounded furiously on their hind-feet, or strained to set their fore-feet on the ground; by which efforts their whole body was exercised, until they were out of breath and in a foam. After this exercise, which WHS no bad one either for speed or strength, they had their barley given them boiled, that they might sooner dis- patch, and better digest it. As the siege was drawn out to a considerable length, Antigonus received information of the death of Antipater in Macedonia, and of the troubles that prevailed there through the animo- sities between Cassander and Polyperchon. He now bade adieu to all inferior prospects, and grasped the whole empire in his schemes: in con- sequence of which he wanted to make Eumenes his friend, and bring him to co-operate in the exe- cution of his plan. For this purpose he sent to him Hieronymus,* with proposals of peace, on * Hieronymns was of Cardia, and therefore a countrvr of Eumenes. He wrote the history of those princes who /man history of those princes who di- vided A.exander's dominions among them, and of their suc- cessor*. condition he took the oath that was offered to him. Eumenes made a correction in the oath, and left it to the Macedonians before the place to judge which form was the most reasonable. In- deed, Antigonus, to save appearances, had slightly mentioned the royal family in the beginning, and all the rest ran in his own name. Eumenes, therefore, put Olympias and the princess of the blood first; and he proposed to engage himself by oath of fealty not to Antigonus only, but to Olympias, and the princess her children. This appearing to the Macedonians much more con- sistent with justice than the other, they permitted Eumenes to take it, and then raised the siege. They likewise sent this oath to Antigonus, requir- ing him to take it on the other part. Meantime Eumenes restored to the Cappado- cians all the hostages he had in Nora, and in return they furnished him with horses, beasts of burden, and tents. He also collected great part of his soldiers who had dispersed themselves after his defeat, and were straggling about the country. By this means he assembled near a thousand horse,* with which he marched off as fast as pos- sible; rightly judging he had much to fear from Antigonus. For that general not only ordered him to be besieged again, and shut up with a cir- cular wall, but, in his letters, expressed great resentment against the Macedonians for admitting the correction of the oath. While Eumenes was flying from place to place, he received letters from Macedonia, in which th people declared their apprehensions of the grow- ing power of Antigonus; and others from Olym- pias, wherein she invited him to come and lake upon him the tuition and care of Alexander's son, whose life she conceived to be in danger. At the same time Polyperchon and king Philip sent him orders to carry on the war against Antigonus with the forces in Cappadocia. They empowered him also to take five hundred talents out of the royal treasure at Quinda,f for the re-establishment of his own affairs, and as much more as he should judge necessary for the purposes of the war. An- tigenes and Teutamus too, who commanded the Argyraspides, had directions to support him. These officers, in appearance, gave Eumenes a kind reception, but it was not difficult to discover the envy and jealousy they had in their hearts, and how much they disdained to act under him. Their envy he endeavored to remove, by not taking the money, which he told them he did not want. To remove their obstinacy and ambition for the first place, was not so easy an affair; for, though they knew not how to command, they were resolved not to obey. In this case he called in the assistance of superstition. He said, Alex- ander had appeared to him in a dream, and showed him a pavilion with royal furniture, and a throne in the middle of it; after which, that prince de- clared, " If they would hold their councils, and dispatch business there, he would be with them, and prosper every measure and action, which commenced under his auspices." He easily persuaded Antigenes and Teutamua to believe he had this vision. They were not willing to wait upon him, nor did he choose to * Diodorus Siculus says two thousand. t In Caria. j In consequence of this, according to Diodorus, Eumenei proposed to take a sum out of the treasury, sufficient for making a throne of gold, to place upon that "throne the dirt- dem, the scepter, and crown, and all the other ensign* of royalty belonging to that prince; that every morning a sa- ritice should be ottered him by all the officers; and that aU orders should be issued in his name. A stroke of poJjcj suitable to the genius of Eumeaes. 388 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. dishonor his commission by going to them. They prepared, therefore, a royal pavilion, and a throne in it, which they called the throne of Alexander; and thither they repaired to consult upon the most important affairs. From thence they marched to the higher pro- vinces, and, upon the way, were joined by Peu- cestas, a friend of Eurnenes, and other governors of provinces. Thus the Macedonians were greatly strengthened, both in point of numbers, and in the most magnificent provision of all the requisites of war. But power and affluence had rendered these governors so untractable in society, and so dissolute in their way of living, since the death of Alexander, and they came together witli a spirit of despotism so nursed by barbaric pride, that they soon became obnoxious to each other, and no sort of harmony could subsist between them. Beside, they flattered the Macedonians without any regard to decorum, and supplied them with money in such a manner, for their entertainments and sacrifices, that, in a little time, their camp looked like a place of public reception for every scene of intemperance, and those veterans were to be courted for military ap- pointments, as the people are for their votes in a republic. Eumenes soon perceived that the newly arrived grandees despised each other, but were afraid of him, and watched an opportunity to "kill him. He therefore pretended he was in want of money, and borrowed large sums of those that hated him most,* in order that they might place some confi- dence in him, or at least might give up their designs upon his life, out of regard to the money lent him. Thus he found guards for himself, in the opulence of others; and, though men in general seek to save their lives by giving, he provided for his safety by receiving. While no danger was near, the Macedonians took bribes of all who wanted to corrupt them, and, like a kind of guards, daily attended the gates of those that affected the command. But when Antigonus came and encamped over against them, and affairs called for a real general, Eumenes was applied to, not only by the soldiers, but the very grandees who had taken so much state upon them in time of peace and pleasure, freely gave place to him, and took the post assigned them without murmuring. Indeed, when Antigonus attempted to pass the river Pasitigris, not one of the other officers who were appointed to guard it, got any intelligence of his motions: Eumenes alone was at hand to oppose him; and he did it so effectu- ally, that he filled the channel with dead bodies, aiici made four thousand prisoners. The behavior of the Macedonians, when Eu- menes happened to be sick, still more particularly showed, that they thought others fit to direct in magnificent entertainments, and the solemnities of peace, but that he was the only person among them fit to lead an army. For Peucestas having feasted them in a sumptuous manner in Persia, and given each man a sheep for sacrifice, hoped to be indulged with the command. A few days after, as they were marching against the enemy, Eumenes was so dangerously ill, that he was forced to be carried in a litter, at some distance from the ranks, lest his rest, which was very precarious, should be disturbed with the noise. They had not gone far, before the enemy suddenly made their appearance, for they had passed the intermediate :iiil, and were now descending into the plain. The iuster of their golden armor glittering in the sun, * Four hundred thousand crown*. as they marched down the hill, the e.ephants with the towers on their backs, and the purple vesta which the cavalry used to wear when they were advancing to the combat, struck the troops that were to oppose them with such surprise that the front halted, and called out for Eumenes; declar- ing that they would not move a step farther, if he had not the direction of them. At the same time they grounded their arms, exhorting each other t<& top, and insisted that their officers should not hazard an engagement without Eumenes. Eumenes no sooner heard this, than he advanced with the utmost expedition, hastening with the slaves that carried the litter. He likewise opened the curtains, and stretched out his hand, in token of his joy. On the first sight of the general of their heart, the troops saluted him in the Macedo nian language, clanked their arms, and, with loud shouts, challenged the enemy to advance, thinking themselves invincible while he was at their head. Antigonus having learned from some prisoners, that Eumenes was so extremely ill, that he was forced to be carried in a litter, concluded he should find no great difficulty in beating the other gen- erals; and, therefore, hastened to the attack. But when he came to reconnoiter the enemy's army, and saw in what excellent order it was drawn up, he stood still sometime, in silent admiration. At last, spying the litter carried about from one wing to the other, he laughed out aloud, as his manner was, and said to his friends, " Yon litter is the thing that pitches the battle against us." After this, he immediately retreated to his intrench- ments * The Macedonians had hardly recovered them- selves from their fears, before they began to behave again in a disorderly and mutinous manner to their oificers, and spread themselves over almost all the * There are some particulars in Diodorus, which deserve to be inserted here. After the two armies were separated, without coming to action, they encamped about tliree fur- longs' distance from each other; and Antigonus, soon find- ing the country where he lay so much exhausted that it would be very difficult for him to subsist, sent, deputies to the confederate army, to solicit them, especially the governors of provinces, and the old Macedonian corps, to desert Eumenes, and to join him; which, at this time, they rejected with the highest indignation. After the deputies were dismissed, Eumenes came intb the assembly, and de- livered himself in the following fable: "A lion once, falling in love with a young damsel, demanded her in marriage of her father. The fattier made answer, that he looked on such an alliance as a great honor to his family, but stood in fear of his claws and teeth, lest, upon any trifling dispute that might happen between them after marriage, he might exercise them a little too hastily upon his daughter, i'o remove this objection, the amorous lion caused both hii nails and teeth to be drawn immediately; whereupon the father took a cudgel, and soon got rid of his enemy." "This," continued he, " is the very thing aimed at by An* tigonus, who is liberal in promises, until he has made him- self master of your forces, and then beware' of his teeth and paws." A few days after this Eumenes, having intelli- gence that Antigonus intended to decamp in the night, presently guessed that his design was to seek quarters of refreshment for his army in the rich district of Gabene. To prevent this, and, at the same time, to gain a passage into that country, he instructed some soldiers to pretend that they were deserters, and sent them into the camp of Anti- gonus, where they reported that Eumenes intended to at- tack him in his trenches that very night. But, while An ligonus's troops were under arms, Eumenes marched for Gabene, which, at length, Antigonus suspected; and hav- ing given proper orders to his foot, marched immediately after him with his cavalry. Early in the morning, from the top of a hill, he discerned Eumenes, with his arinj .,c. u .., and Eumenes, upon sight of the cavalry, concluding that the whole army of Antigonu* was at hand, faced about, and di$. posed his troops in order tobattle. Thus Eumenes was de- ceived in his turn: and as soon as Antigonus's infantry came up, a sharp action followed, in which the victory seemed won and lost several times. At last, however, Antigonus had visibly the worst, being forced to withdraw by long march**, into Media. U\ud &ic, lib. xviii. 413, ED MENES provinces of Gabene for winter quarters; insomuch that the first were at the distance of a thousand furlongs from the last. Antigonus being informed of this circumstance, moved back against them, Without losing a moment's time. He took a rug- ged road, that afforded no water, because it was the shortest; hoping, if he fell upon them while thus dispersed, that it would be impossible for their officers to assemble them. However, as soon as he had entered that deso- late country, his troops were attacked with such violent winds and severe frosts, that it was diffi- cult for them to proceed; and they found it neces- sary to light many fires. For this reason their march could not be concealed. The barbarians, who inhabited the mountains that overlooked the desert, wondering what such a number of fires could mean, sent some persons upon dromedaries to Peucestas, with an account of them. Peucestas, distracted with terror at this news, prepared for flight, intending to take with him such troops as he could collect on the way. But Eumenes soon dispelled their fears and uneasiness, by promising so to impede the enemy's march, that they would arrive three days later than they were expected. Finding that they listened to him, he sent orders to the officers to draw all the troops from the quarters, and assemble them with speed. At the same time he took his horse, and went with his colleagues to seek out a lofty piece of ground, Which might attract the attention of the troops marching below. Having found one that 'an- swered his purpose, he measured it, and caused a number of fires to be lighted at proper intervals, so as to resemble a camp. When Antigonus beheld those fires upon the hights, he was in the utmost distress. For he thought the enemy were apprized of his intention sometime before, and were come to meet him. Not choosing, therefore, with forces so harassed and fatigued with their march, to be obliged to fight troops that were perfectly fresh, and had wintered in agreeable quarters, he left the short road, and led his men through the towns and villages, giving them abundant time to refresh themselves. But when he found that no parties came out to gull him in his march, which is usual when an enemy is near, and was informed, by the neighboring in- habitants, that they had seen no troops whatever, nor anything but fires upon the hills, he perceived that Eumenes had outdone him in point of gen- eralship; and this incensed him so much that he advanced with a resolution to try his strength in & pitched battle. Meantime the greatest part of the forces repair- ing to Eumenes, in admiration of his capacity, desired him 10 take the sole command. Upon this Antigenes and Tentatmts, who were at the head of the Aryyraspides, were so exasperated with envy, that they formed a plot against his life: and having drawn into it most of the grandees and generals, they consulted upon a proper time and method to tu'ae him off. They all agreed to make use of him in the ensuing battle, and to assassi- nate him immediately after. But Eudamus, mas- ter of the elephants, and Phoedimus, privately in- form^d Eumenes of their resolutions; not out of any kindness or benevolent regard, but because j they were afraid of losing the money they had lent him. He commended them for the honor with I which they behaved, and retired to his tent, i There he told his friends, "That he lived among t herd of savage beasU," and immediately made his will. After which, lie destroyed all his papers, lest, after his death, charges and impeachments j should rise against the persons who wrote them, I in consequence of the secrets discovered there He then considered, whether he should put the enemy in the way of gaining the victory, or take his flight through Media and Armenia into Cap- padocia; but he could not fix upon anything while his friends stayed with him. After revolving various expedients in his mind, which was now almost as changeable as his fortune, he drew up the forces and endeavored to animate the Greeks and the barbarians. On the other hand, the Pha- lanx and the Argyraspides bade him be of good courage, assuring him that the enemy would not stand the encounter. For they were veterans who had served under Philip and Alexander, and like so many champions of the ring, had never had a fall to that day. Many of them were seventy years of age, and none less than sixty. So that when they charged the troops of Antigonus, they cried out, "Villains! you fight against your fa- thers!" Then they fell furiously upon his inian- try and soon routed them. Indeed, none of the battalions could stand the shock, and the most of them were cut in pieces upon the spot. But though Antigonus had such bad success in this quarter, his cavalry were victorious, through the weak and dastardly behavior of Peucestas, and took all the baggage. Antigonus was a man who had an excellent presence of mind on the most trying occasions, and here the place and the occa- sion befriended him. It was a plain open country, the soil neither deep nor hard, but like the sea- shore, covered with a fine dry sand, which the trampling of so many men and horses, during the action, reduced to a small white dust, that, like a cloud of lime, darkened the air, and intercepted the prospect; so that it was easy for Antigonus to take the baggage unperceived. After the battle was over, Teutamus sent some of his corps to Antigonus, to desire him to restore the baggage. He told them he would not only return the Argyraspides their baggage, but treat them, in all other respects, with the greatest kind- ness, provided they would put Eumenes in his hands. The Argyraspides came into that abomi- nable measure, and agreed to deliver up that brave man alive to his enemies. In pursuance of this scheme, they approached him unsuspected, and planted themselves about him. Some lamented the loss of their baggage, some desired him to as- sume the spirit of victory, which he had gained; others accused the rest of their commanders. Thus watching their opportunity, they fell upou him, took away his sword, and bound his hands behind him with his own girdle. Nicanor was sent by Antigonus to receive him. But, as they led him through the midst of the Macedonians, he desired first to speak to them; not for any request he had to make, but upon matters of great importance to them. Silence be- ing made, he ascended an eminence, and stretch- ing out his hands, bound as they were, he said " What trophy, ye vilest of all the Macedonians what trophy could Antigonus have wished to raise like this which you are raising, by delivering up your general bound? Was it not base enough to acknowledge yourselves beaten, merely for the sake of your baggage, as if victory dwelt among your goods and chattels, and not upon the points of your swords; but you must also send your gen- eral as a ransom for that baggage? For my part, though thus led, I am not conquered; I have beaten the enemy, and am ruined by my fellow- soldiers. But I conjure you by the god of armies,* and the awful deities who preside over oaths, t Jupiter. 890 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. kill me here with your own hands. If my life be taken by another, the deed will be still" yours. Nor will Antigonus complain, if you take the work out of his hands; for he wants not Eumenes alive, but Eumenes dead. If you choose not to be the immediate instruments, loose but one of my hands, and that shall do my business. If you will not trust me with a sword, throw me, bound as I am, to wild beasts. If you comply with this last request, I acquit you of all guilt with respect to me, and declare you have behaved to your gen- eral like the best and honestest of men." The rest of the troops received this speech with sighs and tears, and every expression of sorrow; but the Aryyraspides cried out, " Lead him on, and attend not to his trifling. For it is no such great matter, if an execrable Chersonesian, who has harassed the Macedonians with infinite wars, have cause to lament his fate; as it would be, if the best of Alexander's and Philip's soldiers should be deprived of the fruit of their labors, and have their bread to beg in their old age. And have not our wives already passed three nights with our enemies?" So saying they drove him forward. Antigonus, fearing some bad consequence from the crowd (for there was not a man left in his camp), sent out ten of his best elephants, and a corps of spearmen, who were Medes and Par- thians, to keep them off. He could not bear to have Eumenes brought into his presence, because of the former friendly connections there had been between them. And when those who took charge of him, asked, in what manner he would have him kept? He said, "So as you would keep an elephant or a lion." Nevertheless he soon felt some impressions of pity, and ordered them to take off his heavy chains, and allow him a servant who had been accustomed to wait upon him. He likewise permitted such of his friends as desired it, to pass whole days with him, and to bring him necessary refreshment. Thus he spent some con- siderable time in deliberating how to dispose of him, and sometimes listened to the applications, and promises of Nearches the Cretan, and his own son Demetrius, who made it a point to save him But all the other officers insisted that he should be put to death, and urged Antigonus to give di- rections for it. One day, we are told, Eumenes asked his keeper, Onomarchus, " Why Antigonus, now he had got his enemy into his power, did not either immedi- ately dispatch him, or generously release him?" Onomarchus answered, in a contemptuous man- ner, " That in the battle, and not now, he should have b**en so ready to meet death." To which Eumenes replied, " By heavens, I was so! Ask those who ventured to engage me if I was not. I do not know that I met with a better man than my- self." "Well," said Onomarchus, "now you have found a better man than yourself, why do you not patiently wait his time?" When Antigonus had resolved upon his death, he gave orders that he should have no kind of food. By this means, in two or three days' time, he began to draw near his end: and then Antigo- nus, being obliged to decamp upon some sudden emergency, sent in an executioner to dispatch him. The body he delivered to his friends, allow- ing them to burn it honorably and to collect the ashes into a silver urn, in order to their being sent to his wife and children. Thus died Eumenes: and divine justice did not go far to seek instruments of vengeance against the officers* and soldiers who had betrayed him. Antigonus himself, detesting the Argyraspides as impious and savage wretches, ordered Ibyrtius, governor of Araceosia,f under whose directions he put them, to take every method to destroy them; so that not one of them might return to Macedonia, or set his eyes upon the Grecian sea. SERTOBIUS AND EUMENES COMPARED. THF.SE are the most remarkable particulars which history has given us concerning Eumenes and Sertorius. And now to come to the compari- son. We observe first, that though they were both strangers, aliens, and exiles, they had, to the end of their days, the command of many warlike nations, and great and respectable armies. Ser- torius, indeed, has this advantage, that his fellow- warriors ever freely gave up the command to him | on account of hist superior merit ; whereas many disputed the post of honor with Eumenes, and it was his actions only that obtained it for him. The officers of Sertorius were ambitious to have him at their head; but those who acted under Eumenes never had recourse to him, until expe- rience had showed thv>in th^ir own incapacity, and the necessity of employing another. The one was a Roman, and commanded the Spaniards and Lusitanians, who for many years had been subject to Rome; the other was a Cher- sonesian, and commanded the Macedonians, who had conquered the whole world. It should be considered too, that Sertorius the more easily made his way, because he was a senator, and had led armies before; but Eumenes, with the disre- putation of having been only a secretary, raised himself to the first military employments. Nor had Eumenes only fewer advantages, but greater impediments also in the road to honor. Numbers opposed him openly, and as many formed private designs against his life : whereas no man ever opposed Sertorius in public, and it was not until toward the last, that a few of his party entered upon a private scheme to destroy him. The dan- gers of Sertorius were generally over when he had gained a Victory; and the dangers of Eume- nes grew out of his very victories, among those who envied his success. Their military performances were equal and similar, but their dispositions were very different. Eumenes loved war, and had a native spirit of contention ; Sertorius loved peace and tranquil- lity. The former might have lived in great secu rity and honor, if he would not have stood in the way of the great; but he rather chose to tread forever in the uneasy paths of power, though lie Antigenes,commander-in.chief of the Silvtr Shield.*, was, by order of Antigonus, put in a coffin and buried alive. Eudamus, Celbanus, and many others of the eneinie* of Eumenes, experienced a like fate. t A province of Parthia, near Bactriana. AGESILAUS. 891 had to fight every step he took; the latter would gladly have withdrawn from the tumult of public affairs; but was forced to continue the war to de- fend himself against his restless persecutors. For Antigonus would have taken pleasure in employ- ing Eumenes, if he would have given up the dis- pute for superiority, and been content with the station next to his; whereas Pompey would not grant Sertorius his request to live a private citi- zen. Hence, the one voluntarily engaged in war, for the sake of gaining the chief command; the other involuntarily took the command, because he could not live in peace. Eumenes, therefore, hi his passion for the camp, preferred ambition to mfety; Sertorius was an able warrior, but em- 1 ployed his talents only for the safety of his person. The one was not apprized of his impending fate; the other expected his every moment. The one had the candid praise of confidence in his friends; the other incurred the censure of weakness; for he would have fled,* but could not. The death of Sertorius did no dishonor to his life; he suf- fered that from his fellow-soldiers which the ene- my could not have effected. Eumenes could not avoid his chains, yet after the indignity of chains,t he wanted to live; so that he could neither escape death, nor meet it as he ought to have done; but, by having recourse to mean applications and en- treaties, put his mind in the power of the man who was only master of his body. AGESILAUS. ARCHIDAMTJS,$ the son of Xeuxidemus, after having governed the Lacedaemonians with a very respectable character, left behind him two sons; the one named Agis, whom he had of Lampito, a woman of an illustrious family; the other much younger, named Agesilaus, whom he had by Eu- polia, the daughter of Melisippidas. As the crown, by law, was to descend to Agis, Agesi- laus had nothing to expect but a private station, and therefore had a common Lacedaemonian edu- cation; which, though hard in respect of diet, and full of laborious exercises, was well calculated to teach the youth obedience. Hence, Simonides is said to have called that famed city, the man- sub- duing Sparta, because it was the principal ten- dency of her discipline to make the citizens bedient and submissive to the laws; and she trained her youth as the colt is trained to the manege. The law does not lay the young princes who are educated for the throne under the same necessity. But Agesilaus was singular in this, that before he came to govern, he had learned to obey. Hence it was tiiat he accommodated him- self with a better grace to his subjects than any other of the kings; having added to his princely talents and inclinations a humane manner and popular civility. While he was yet in one of the classes or socie- ties of boys, Lysander had that honorable attach- ment to him which the Spartans distinguish with the name of love. He was charmed with his ingenuous modesty. For, though he had a spirit above his companions, an ambition to excel, which made hirn unwilling to sit down without the prize, and a vigor and impetuosity which could not be conquered or borne down, yet he was equally re- markable for his gentleness, where it was neces- sary to obey. At the same time, it appeared, that his obedience was not owing to fear, but to the principle of honor, and that throughout his whole conduct he dreaded disgrace more than toil. He was lame of one leg : but that defect, dur- * Cpon notice of the intention of his enemies to .lestroy him after the battle, lie deliberated whether he should give op the victory to Antijionus, or retire into Cappadocia. t Tliis does not appear from Plutarch's account of him. He only desired Aiuigonus either to give immediate orders for his execution, or to show his generosity in releasing him. t Archidamus II. Lampito, or Lampido, was sister to Archidamui, bj JM father's side. Vid. Piut. Mcibiud. ing his youth, was covered by the agreeable turn of the rest of his person; and the easy and cheer- ful manner in which he bore it, and his being the first to rally himself upon it, always made it the less regarded. Nay, that defect made his spirit of enterprise more "remarkable; for he never de- clined on that account any undertaking, however difficult or laborious. We have no portrait or statue of him. He would not suffer any to be made while he lived, and at his death he utterly forbade it. We are only told, that he was a little man, and that ho had not a commanding aspect. But a perpetual vivacity and cheerfulness, attended with a talent for raillery, which was expressed without any severity either of voice or look, made him more agreeable, even in age, than the young and the handsome. Theophrastus tells us, the Ephori fined Archidamus for marrying a little woman. "She will bring us," said they, " a race of pigmies, in- stead of kings." During the reign of Agis, Alcibiades, upon his quitting Sicily, came an exile to Lacedsemon. And he had not been there long, before he wan suspected of a criminal commerce with Timaea, the wife of Agis. Agis would not acknowledge the child which she had for his, but said it was the son of Alcibiades. Duris informs us, that the queen was not displeased at the supposition, and that she used to whisper to her women, the child should be called Alcibiades, not Leotychidas. He adds, that Alcibiades himself scrupled not to say, "He did not approach Timaea to gratify his ap- petite, but from an ambition to give kings to Sparta." However, he was obliged to fly from Sparta, lest Agis should revenge the injury. And that prince looking upon Leotychidas with an eye of suspicion, did not take notice of him as a son. Yet, in his last sickness, Leotychidas pre- vailed upon him by his tears and entreaties, to acknowledge him as such before many witnesses. Notwithstanding this public declaration, Agia was no sooner dead, than Lysander, who had vanquished the Athenians at sea, and had great power and interest in Sparta, advanced Agesilaua to the throne; alleging that Leotychidas was a bastard, and consequently had no right to it. In- deed the generality of the citizens, knowing the virtues of Agesilaus, and that he had been educated with them in all the severity of the Spartan di- cipline, joined with pleasure in the scheme. 892 PLUTARCH'S LIV ES. self lame. Agesilaus added, that Nep- orne witness to the bastardy of Leoty ;f ten months after which, and more, .s was born; though Agis did not co- vice dishonorable which he did in the way of friendship. Nay, if his adversaries fell into any misfortune, he was the first to sympathize with them, and ready to give them his assistance, if they desired it. By these means he gained tins hearts of all his people. The Ephori saw this, and, in their fear of his increasing power, imposed a fine upon him; alleg- ing this as a reason, that whereas the citizens ought to be in common, he appropriated them to himself. As the writers upon physics say, that if war and discord were banished the universe, the heavenly bodies would stop their course, and all generation and motion would cease, by reason of that perfect harmony; so the great Lawgiver in- fused a spirit of ambition and contention into the Spartan constitution, as an incentive to virtue, and wished always to see some difference and dis- pute among the good and virtuous. He thought tiiat general complaisance, which leads men to yield to the next proposal, without exploring each other's intentions, and without debating on the consequences, was an inert principle, and de- served not the name of harmony.* Some imagine that he would not have made Agamemnon rejoice, f Homer saw this, and when Ulysses and Achilles contended in such opprobrious terms, if he had not expected that some great benefit would arise to their affairs in general, from this particular quar- rel among the great. This point, however, cannot be agreed to, without some exception; for violent dissensions are pernicious to a state, and produc- tive of the greatest dangers. Agesilaus had not long been seated on the throne before accounts were brought from Asia, that the king of Persia was preparing a great fleet to dispossess the Lacedremonians of their dominion of the sea. Lysander was very desirous to be sent again into Asia, that he might support his friends whom he left governors and masters of the cities, and many of whom, having abused their authority to the purposes of violence and injustice, were banished or put to death by the people. He there- fore persuaded Agesilaus to enter Asia with hit* forces, and fix the seat of war at the greatest dis- tance from Greece, before the Persian could have finished his preparations. At the same time he thoughts of opposition and contention, and paid j instructed his friends in Asia to send deputies to his court to them on every occasion; taking care i Lacedaemon to desire Agesilaus might be appoint- in all his enterprises, to set out under their aus- ( ed to that command, pices. If he was called, he went faster than There was then at Sparta, a diviner, named Diopithes, well versed in ancient prophesies, and supposed an able interpreter of everything relat- ing to the gods. This man insisted, it was con- trary to the divine will, that a lame man should sit on the throne of Sparta; and on the day the point was to be decided, he publicly read this oracle Beware, proud Sparta, lest a maimed empire* Thy boasted strength impair; for other woes Th:m thou behold'st, await thee borne away By the strange tide of war Lysander observing upon this, that if the Spar- tans were solicitous to act literally according to the oracle, they ought to beware of Leotychidas; for that heaven did not consider it as a matter of importance, if the king happened to have, a lame foot; the ' ing to be guarded against was the ad- mission of a person who was not a genuine de- scendant f Hercules: for that would make the kingdom tune had chidas, in throwing Agis out of his bed by an earthquai Leotychi* habit wit) Timoea during that time. By thes-.j ways and means, Agesilaus gained the diadem, and at the same time was put in possession f the private estate of Agis; Leotychidas being rejected on account of his illegitimacy. Observ- ing, however, that his relations by the mother's side, though men of merit, were very poor, he gave a moiety of the estate among them; by which means the inheritance procured him respect and honor, instead of envy and aversion. Xenophon tells us, that by obedience to the laws of his country, Agesilaus gained so much power, that his will was not disputed. The case was this, the principal authority was then in the hands of the Ephori and the senate. The Ephori were an- imal magistrates, and the senators had their office for life. They were both appointed as a barrier against the power of the kings, as we have observ- ed in the life of Lycurgus. The kings, therefore, had an old and hereditary antipathy to them, and perpetual disputes subsisted between them. But Lysander took a different course. He gave up all ilsual: if he was upon his throne, administering justice, he rose up when the Ephori approached: if any one of them was admitted a member of the senate, he sent him a robe and an ox,{ as marks of honor. Thus, while he seemed to be adding to the dignity and importance of their body, he was privately increasing his own strength, and the authority of the crown, through their support and attachment. In his conduct with respect to the other citizens, He behaved better as an enemy than as a friend. If he was severe to his enemies, lie was not un- justly so; his friends he countenanced even in their unjust pursuits. If his enemies performed anything extraordinary, he was ashamed not to take honorable notice of it; his friends he could not correct when they did amiss. On the con- trary, it was his pleasure to support them, and go the same lengths they did; for he thought no ser- * The two legs of the Spartan constitution were the two kings, which therefore, must be in a maimed and ruined State when one of them was gone. In fact, the consequence produced not a just and good monarch, but a tyrant. t See Xenophon, Grecian Hist, book iii. % Emblems of magistracy and patriotism. Agesilaus ^received their proposals in full as- sembly of the people, and agreed to undertake the war, on condition they would give him thirty Spartans for his officers and counselors, a select corps of two thousand newly enfranchised Helots, and six thousand of the allies. All this was readily decreed, through the influence of Lysan- der, and Agesilaus sent out with the thirty Spar- tans. Lysander was soon at the head of the council, not only on account of his reputation and power, but the friendship of Agesilans, who thought the procuring him this command a greater tiling than the raising him to the throne. While his forces were assembling at Gerastus, he went with his friends to Aulis; and passing the night there, he dreamed that a person addressed him in this manner: " You are sensible that, since Agamemnon, none has been appointed captain- general of all Greece, but yourself, the king of Sparta; and you are the only person who havt> arrived at that honor. Since, therefore, you com- Upon the same principle, we need not be greatly alarm, ed at party disputes in our own nation. They will not ex pire but with liberty. And such ferments are often nece- sary to throw off vicious humor*. f Odyssey, lib. viii. AGESILAUS. 393 mand the same people, and go against the same enemies with him, as well as take your departure from the same place, you ought to propitiate the goddess with the same sacrifice; which he offered here before he sailed." Agesilaus at first thought of the sacrifice of Iphigenia, whom her father offered in obedience to the soothsayers. This circumstance, however, did not give him any pain. In the morning he related the vision to his friends, and told them he would honor the goddess with what a superior Being might reasonably be supposed to take plea- sure in, and not imitate the savage ignorance of his predecessor. In consequence of which, he crowned a hind with flowers, and delivered her to her own soothsayer, with orders that he should perform the ceremony, and not the person ap- pointed to that office by the Boeotians. The first magistrates of Boeotiu, incensed at this innovation, sent their officers to insist that Agesilaus should not sacrifice contrary to the laws and customs of Bceotia. And the officers not only gave him such notice, but threw the thighs of the victim from the altar. Agesilaus was highly offended at this treatment, and departed in great wrath with the Thebans. Nor could he conceive any hopes of success after such an omen; on the contrary, he concluded his operations would be incomplete, and his expedition not answer the intention. When he came to Ephesus, the power and in- terest of Lysander appeared in a very obnoxious light. The gates of that minister were continual- ly crowded, and all applications were made to him; as if Agesilaus had only the name and badges of command, to save the forms of law, and Lysander had in fact the power, and all business were to pass through his hands. Indeed, none of the generals who "were sent to Asia, ever had greater sway, or were more dreaded than he; none ever served their friends more effectually, or hum- bled their enemies so much. These were things fresh in every one's memory; and when they compared also the plain, the mild, and popular behavior of Agesilaus, with the stern, the short, and authoritative manner of Lysander, they sub- mitted to the latter entirely, and attended to him alone. The other Spartans first expressed their resent- ment, because that attention to Lysander made them appear rather as his ministers, than as coun- selors to the king. Afterward Agesilaus, himself, was piqued at it. For though he had no envy in his nature; or jealousy of honors paid to merit, yet he was ambitious of glory, and firm in asserting his claim to it. Beside, he was apprehensive that if any great action were performed, it would be imputed to Lysander, on account of the superior light in which he had still been considered. The method he took to obviate it was this. His first step was, to oppose the counsels of Lysander, and to pursue measures different from those, for which he was most earnest. Another step was to reject the petitions of all who appeared to apply to him through the interest of that minister. In matters too, which were brought before the king in a judicial way, those against whom Lysander exerted himself were sure to gain their cause; and they for whom he appeared, could scarce escape without a fine. As these things happened not casually, but constantly and of set purpose, Ly- sander perceived the cause, and concealed it not from his friends. He told them, it was on his ac- count they were disgraced, and desired them to pay their court to the king, and to those who had greater interest with him than himself. These proceedings seemed invidious, and intended to de- preciate the king: Agesilaus, therefore, to mortify him still more, appointed him his carver; and we are told, he said before a large company; "Now let them go and pay their court to my carver." Lysander, unable to bear this last instance of contempt, said, "Agesilaus, you know very well how to lessen your friends." Agesilaus answered, " I know very well who want to be greater than myself." "But, perhaps," said Lysander, " that has rather been so represented to you, than at- tempted by me. Place me, however, where I may serve you, without giving you the least umbrage." Upon this Agesilaus appointed him his lieutenant in the Hellespont, where he persuaded Spithri- dates, a Persian, in the province of Pharnabazus, to come over to the Greeks, with a considerable treasure, and two hundred horse. Yet he retain- ed his resentment, and nourishing the remem- brance of the affront he had received, considered how he might deprive the two families of the pri- vilege of giving kings to Sparta,* and open the way to that high station to all the citizens. And it seems he would have raised great commotions in pursuit of his revenge, if he had not been killed in this expedition into Boeotia. Thus ambitious spirits, when they go beyond certain bounds, do much more harm than good to the community. For if Lysander was to blame, as in fact he was, in indulging an unreasonable avidity of honor, Agesilaus might have known other methods to correct the fault of a man of his character and spirit. But under the influence of the same pas- sion, the one knew not how to pay proper respect to his general, nor the other how to bear the im- perfections of his friend. At first Tisaphernes was afraid of Agesilaus, and undertook by treaty, that the king would leave the Grecian cities to be governed by their own laws; but afterward, thinking his strength suffi- ciently increased, he declared war. This was an event very agreeable to A^^silaus. He hoped great things from this expedition; f and h'e con- sidered it as a circumstance which would reflect dishonor upon himself, that Xenophon could con- duct ten thousand Greeks from the heart of Asia to the sea, and beat the king of Persia whenever his forces thought proper to engage him; if he, at the head of the Lacedaemonians, who were masters both at sea and land, could not distinguish himself before the Greeks by some great and memorable stroke. To revenge, therefore, the perjury of Tisa- phernes by an artifice which justice recommended, he pretended immediately to march into Caria; and when the barbarian had drawn his forces to that quarter, he turned short and entered Phrygia. There he took many cities; and made himself master of immense treasures; by which he showed his friends, that to violate a treaty is to despise the gods; while to deceive an enemy is not only just but glorious, and the way to add profit to pleasure; but, as he was inferior in cavalry, and the liver of the victim appeared without a head, he retired to Ephesus, to raise that sort of troops which he wanted. The method he took was to insist that every man of substance, if he did not choose to serve in person, should provide a horse and a man. Many accepted the alternative; and, instead of a parcel of indifferent combatants, such as the rich would have made, he soon got a numerous and respectable cavalry. For those who did not choose The Eurytionidac and the Agidas. t He told the Persian ambassadors, "He was niuc* obliged to their master for the step he had taken, sinc \>f the violation of his oath, he had made the godi enemie* ta Persia, and friends to Greece." 394 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. to serve at all, or not to serve as horse, hired others who wanted neither courage nor inclination. In this he professedly imitated Agamemnon, who, for a good mare, excused a dastardly rich man the service.* One day lie -./rrierv uis commissaries to sell the prisoners, but to strij* them lirst. Their clothes found many purchasers; but as to the prisoners themselves, their skins being soft and white, by reason of their having lived i much within doors, the spectators only laugheu .* ihem, thinking they would be of no se i- v"ce as slaves. Whereupon Agesilaus, who stood by at the auction, said to his troops, "These are the persons whom you fight witli ; " and then pointing to the rich spoils, " Those are the things ye fight for." When the season called him into the field again, he gave it out that Lydia was his object. In this he did not deceive Tisaphernes; that general de- ceived himself. For, giving no heed to the decla- rations of Agesilaus, because he had been imposed upon by them before, he concluded he would now enter Caria, a country not convenient for cavalry, in which his strength did not lie. Agesilaus, as he had proposed, went and sat down on the plains of Sardis, and Tisaphernes was forced to march thither in great haste with succors. The Persian, as he advanced with his cavalry, cut off a number of the Greeks who were scattered up and down for plunder. Agesilaus^ however, considered that the enemy's infantry could not yet be come up; whereas he had all his forces about him; and therefore resolved to give battle immediately. Pursuant to this resolution, he mixed his light- armed foot with the horse, and ordered them to advance swiftly to the charge, while he was bring- ing up the heavy-armed troops, which would not be fur behind. The barbarians were soon put to flight; the Greeks pursued them, took their camp, and killed great numbers. In consequence of this success, they could pil- lage the king's country in full security; and had all the satisfaction to see Tisaphernes, a man of abandoned character, and one of the greatest en- emies to their name and nation, properly punished. For the king immediately sent Tithraustes against him, who cut off his head. At the same time he desired Agesilaus to grant him peace, promising him large sums, f on condition that he would evacuate his dominions. Agesilaus answered, " His country was the sole arbitress of peace. For his own part, he rather chose to enrich his soldiers than himself; and the great honor among the Greeks was, to carry home spoils, and not presents from their enemies." Nevertheless, to gratify Tithraustes, for destroying Tisaphernes, the common enemy of the Greeks, he decamped and retired into Phrygia, taking thirty talents of that viceroy to defray the charges of his march. As he was upon the road, he received the scytale from the magistrates of Lacedcemon, which in- vested him with the command of the navy as well as the army; an honor which that city never * Then Menelaus his Podargus brings, Anil the famed courser of the king of kings; Whom rich Echepolus (more rich than brave) To 'scape the wars to Agamemnon gave, (--Ethe her name), at home to end his days, Base wealth preferring to eternal praise. Pope, II. xxiii. Thus Scipio, when he went to Africa, ordered the Sicilians either to attend him, or to give him horses or men. t He promised also to restore the Greek cities in Asia to their liberty, on condition that they paid the established tri- bute; and he hoped (he said) that this condescension woulfl persuade Agesilaus to accept the peace, and to return home; the rather because Tisaphernes, who was guilty of the first breach, was punished as he deserved. granted to any one but himself. He was, Indees, (as Theopompus somewhere says,) confessedly the greatest and most illustrious man of his time; yet he placed his dignity rather in his virtue than his power. Notwithstanding, there was this flaw in his character when he had the cuauuct of the navy given him, he committed that charge to Pi- sander, when there were other officers of greater age and abilities at hand. Pisander was his wife's brother, and, in compliment to her, he, respected that alliance more than the public good. He took up his own quarters in the province of Pharnabazus, where he not only lived in plenty, but raised considerable subsidies. From thence he proceeded to Paphlagonia, and drew Cotys, the king of that country, into his interest, who had been sometimes desirous of such a connection, on account of the virtue and honor which marked his character. Spithridates, who was the first per- son of consequence that came over from Pharna- bazus, accompanied Agesilaus in all his expedi- tions, and took a share in all his dangers. This Spithridates had a son, a handsome youth, for whom Agesilaus had a particular regard, and a beautiful daughter in the flower of her age, whom he married to Cotys. Cotys gave him a thousand horse, and two thousand men drawn from his light-armed troops, and with these he returned to Phrygia. Agesilaus committed great ravages in that pro- vince; but Pharnabazus did not wait to oppose him, or trust his own garrisons. Instead of that, he took his most valuable things with him, and moved from place to place, to avoid a battle. Spithridates, however, watched him so narrowly, that, with the assistance of Herippidas* the Spar- tan, at last he made himself master of his camp and all his treasures. Herippidas made it his bu- siness to examine what part of the baggage was secreted, and compelled the barbarians to restore it; he looked indeed with a keen eye into every- thing. This provoked Spithridates to such a de- gree, that he immediately marched off with the Paphlagonians to Sardis. There was nothing in the whole war that touched Agesilaus more, nearly than this. Be- side the pain it gave him to think he had lost Spithridates, and a considerable body of men with him, he was ashamed of a mark of avarice and illiberal meanness, from which he had ever studied to keep both himself and his country. These were causes of uneasiness that might be publicly acknowledged; but he had a private, and a more sensible one, in his attachment to the son of Spith- ridates; though while he was with him, he had made a point to combat that attachment. One day Megabates approached to salute him, and Agesilaus declined that mark of his affection. The youth, after this, was more distant in his ad- dresses. Then Agesilaus was sorry for the repulse he had given him, and pretended to wonder why Megabates kept at such a distance. His friends told him, he must blame himself for rejecting his former application. " He would still," said they, "be glad to pay his most obliging respects to you, but take care you do not reject them again." Agesilaus was silent some time, and wheu he had considered the thing, he said, "Do not mention it to him. For this second victory over myself gives me more pleasure than I should have in'turning all I look upon to gold." This resolu- tion of his held while Megabates was with him; but he was so much affected at his departure, that * Herippidas was at the head of the new council of thirty, sent to Age*ilaus the second year of the war. AGESILAUS. 395 !t la hard to say how he would have behaved, if he had found him again. After this, Pharnabazus desired a conference with him; and Apollophanes of Cyzicus, at whose house they had both been entertained, procured an interview. Agesilaus came first to the place ap- pointed, with his friends, and sat down upon the long grass under a shade, to wait for Pharnabazus. When the Persian grandee came, his servants spread soft skins and beautiful pieces of tapestry for him; but upon seeing Agesilaus so seated, he was ashamed to make use of them, and placed himself carelessly upon the grass in the same manner, though his robes were delicate, and of the finest colors. After mutual salutations, Pharnabazus opened the conference; and he had just cause of corn- plaint against the Lacedemonians, after the ser- vices he had done them in the Athenian war, and their late ravages in his country. Agesilaus saw the Spartans were at a loss for an answer, and kept their eyes fixed upon the ground; for they knew that Pharnabazus was injured. However, the Spartan general found an answer, which was as follows: "While we were friends to the king of Persia, we treated him and his in a friendly manner: now we are enemies, you can expect nothing from us but hostilities. Therefore, while you, Pharnabazus, choose to be a vassal to the king, we wound him through your sides. Only be a friend and ally to the Greeks, and shake off that vassalage, and from that moment you have a right to consider these battalions, these arms and ships in short, all that we are or have, as guar- dians of your possessions and your liberty; with- out which, nothing is great or desirable among men." * Pharnabazus then explained himself in these terms: " If the king sends another lieutenant in my room, I will be for you; but while he contin- ues me in the government, I will, to the best of my power, repel force with force, and make re- prisals upon you for him." Agesilaus, charmed with this reply, took his hand, and rising up with him, said: " Heaven grant that, with such senti- ments as these, you may be our friend, and not our enemy!" As Pharuabazus and his company were going away, his son, who was behind, ran up to Agesi- laus, and said, with a smile, "Sir, I enter with you into the rites of hospitality:" at the same time, he gave him a javelin which he had in his hand. Agesilaus received it; and, delighted with his looks and kind regards, looked about for some- thing handsome to give a youth of his princely appearance in return. His secretary Adeeus hap- pening to have a horse with magnificent furniture just by, he ordered it to be taken off and given to the young man; nor did he forget him after- ward. In process of time, this Persian was driven from his home, by his brothers, and forced to take refuge in Peloponnesus. Agesilaus then took him into his protection, and served him on all occa- sions. The Persian had a favorite in the wrestling ring at Athens, who wanted to be introduced at the Olympic games; but as he was past the proper age, they did not choose to admit him. f In this case, the Persian applied to Agesilaus, who, willing to oblige him in this as well as other things, pro- * He added, "However, if we continue at war, I will, for the future avoid your territories as much as possible, and lather forage and raise contributions in any other province." jr.. Grec. War, b. iv. t Sometimes boys had a share in these exhibitions, who after a certain age, were excluded the liU cured the young man the admission he desired, though not without much difficulty. Agesilaus, indeed, in other respects, was strictly and inflexibly just; but where a man's friends are concerned, he thought a rigid regard to justice a mere pretense. There is still extant a short letter of his to Hydreius the Carian, which is a proof of what we have said: "If Nicias is innocent, acquit him: if he is not innocent, acquit him on, rny account: however, be sure to acquit him." Such was the general character of Agesilaus as a friend. There were, indeed, times when his at- tachments gave way to the exigencies of state. Once being obliged to decamp in a hurry, he was leaving a favorite sick behind him. The favorite called after him, and earnestly entreated him to corne back; upon which, he turned and said, " How little consistent are love and prudence!" This particular we have from Hieronymus the philosopher. Agesilaus had been now two years at the head of the army, and was become the general subject of discourse in the upper provinces. His wisdom, his disinterestedness, his moderation, was the theme they dwelt upon with pleasure. Whenever he made an excursion, he lodged in the temples most renowned for sanctity; and whereas, on, many occasions, we do not choose that men should see what we are about, he was desirous to have the gods inspectors and witnesses of his con- duct. Among so many thousands of soldiers as he had, there was scarce one who had a worse or harder bed than he. He was so fortified against heat and cold, that none was so well prepared as himself for whatever seasons the climate should produce. The Greeks in Asia never saw a more agreeable spectacle than when the Persian governors and generals, who had been insufferably elated with power, and rolled in riches and luxury, humbly submitting and paying their court to a man in a coarse cloak, and, upon one laconic word, con- forming to his sentiments, or rather transforming themselves into another shape. Many thought that line of Timotheus applicable on this occa- sion Mars is the god; and Greece reveres not gold. All Asia was now ready to revolt from the Per- sians. Agesilaus brought the cities under excel- lent regulations, and settled their police, without putting to death or banishing a single subject. After which, he resolved to change the seat of war, and to remove it from the Grecian sea to the heart of Persia; that the king might have to fight for Ecbatana and Susa, instead of sitting at his ease there, to bribe the orators, and hire the states of Greece to destroy each other. But amidst these schemes of his, Epicydidas the Spartan came to acquaint him, that Sparta was involved in a Gre- cian war, and that the Epliari had sent him orders to come home and defend his own country. Unhappy Greeks! barbarians to each other! What better name can we give that envy, which incited them to conspire and combine for their mutual destruction, at a time when Fortune had taken them upon her wings, and was carrying them against the barbarians; and yet they clipped her wings with their own hands, and brought the war home to themselves, which was happily re- moved into a foreign country.* I cannot, indeed, * That corruption, which brought the states of Greece to ake Persian gold, undoubtedly deserves censure. Yet wa must take leave to observe, that the divisions and jeal- ousies which reigned in Greece, were the support of iti liberties, and that Persia was not conquered until nothing but the shadows oi' those liberties remained. Wei there, 396 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. agree with Demaratus of Corinth, when he says, those Greeks fell short of great happiness, who did not live to see Alexander seated on the throne of Darius. But I think the Greeks had just cause for tears, when they considered that they left that to Alexander and the Macedonians, which might have been effected by the generals whom they slew in the fields of Leuctra, Coronea, Corinth and Arcadia. However, of all the actions of Agesilaus, there is none which had greater propriety, or was a stronger instance of his obedience to the laws and justice to the public, than his immediate return to Sparta. Hannibal, though his affairs were in a desperate condition, and he was almost beaten out of Italy, made a difficulty of obeying the summons of his countrymen to go and defend them in a war at home. And Alexander made a jest of the information he received, that Agis had fought a battle with Antipater. He said, "It seems, my friends, that while we were conquering Darius here, there was a combat of mice in Arca- dia." How happy then was Sparta in the respect which Agesilaus paid her, and in his reverence for the laws! No sooner was the scylala brought him, though in the midst of his power and good for- tune, than l>e resigned and abandoned his flourish- ing prospects, sailed home, and left his great work unfinished. Such was the regret his friends as well as his allies had for the loss of him, that it was a strong confutation of the saying of Demos- tratus the Phoeacian, " That the Lacedemonians excelled in public, and the Athenians in private characters." For, though he had great merit as a king and a general, yet still he was a more de- sirable friend and an agreeable companion. As (lie Persian money had the impression of an archer, he said, " He was driven out. of Asia by ten thousand of the king's archers." * For the orators of Athens and Thebes having been bribed with so many pieces of money, had excited their countrymen to take up arms against Sparta. When he had crossed the Hellespont, he inarched through Thrace without asking leave of any of the barbarians. He only desired to know of each people, " Whether they would have him pass as a friend, or as an enemy?" All the rest received him with tokens of friendship, and showed him all the civilities in their power on his way; but tiie Trallians, f of whom Xerxes is said to have bought a passage, demanded of Agesilaus a hundred tal- ents of silver, and as many women. He answered the messenger ironically, "Why did not they then come to receive them? " At the same time, he marched forward, and finding them drawn up to oppose him, he gave them battle, and routed them with great slaughter. He sent some of his people to put the same question to the king of Macedon, who answered, "1 will consider of it." "Let him consider," said he, " in the meantime we march." The king, surprised and awed by his spirit, desired him to pass as a friend. The Thcssalians were confederates with the en- emies of Sparta, and therefore he laid waste their indeed, a number oflittle independent states, which made justice the constant rule of their conduct to each other, and which would be always ready to unite upon any alarm from a formidable enemy, they might preserve their liberties invio- late forever. * Tithraustes sent Timocrates of Rhodes into Greece with fifty talents, which he distributed at Thebes, Argos, and Corinth; but, according to Xenophon, Athens had no share in that distribution. t Beside the Trallians in Lydia, there was a people of that name in Illyricum, upon the confines of Thrace and Macedonia. So at least, according to Dacier, Theopompus (ap.Stph.), testifies. territories. To the cities of Larissa, indeed, b offered his friendship, by his ambassadors, Peno- cles and Scytha: but the people seized them and put them in prison. His troops so resented this affront, that they would have had him go and lay siege to the place. Agesilaus, however, was of another mind. He said, " He would not lose one of his ambassadors for gaining all Thessaly ; " and he afterward found means to recover them by- treaty. Nor are we to wonder that Agesilaus took this step, since, upon news being brought him that a great battle had been fought near Cor- inth, in which many brave men were suddenly taken off, but that the loss of the Spartans was small in comparison of that of the enemy, he was not elevated in the least. On the contrary, he said, with a deep sigh, " Unhappy Greece! why hast thou destroyed so many brave men with thy own hands, who, had they lived, might have con- quered all the barbarians in the world?" However, as the Pharsalians attacked and ha- rassed him in his march, he engaged them with five hundred horse, and put them to flight. He was so much pleased with this success, that he erected a trophy under mount Narthacium; and he valued himself the more upon it, because, with so small a number of his own training, he had beaten people who reckoned theirs the best cavalry in Greece. Here Diphridas, one of the Ephori, met him, and gave him orders to enter Boootia im- mediately. And though his intention was to do it afterward, when he had strengthened his army with some reinforcements, he thought it was not right to disobey the magistrates. He, therefore, said to those about him, " Now comes the day for which we were called out of Asia." At the same time, he sent for two cohorts from the army near Corinth. And the Lacedaamonians did him the honor to cause proclamation to be made at home, that such of the youth as were inclined to go and assist the king might give in their names. All the young men in Sparta presented themselves for that service; but the magistrates selected only fifty of the ablest, and sent them. Agesilaus, having passed the straits of Ther- mopylae, and traversed Pliocis, which was in friendship with the Spartans, entered Boaotia, and encamped upon the plains of Chreronea. He had scarce intrenched himself, when there happened an eclipse of the sun. * At the same time, lie re- ceived an account that Pisander was defeated at sea, and killed, by Pharnabazus and Conon. He was much afflicted with his own loss, as well as that of the public. Yet, lest his army, which was going to give battle, should be discouraged at the news, he ordered his messengers to give out that Pisander was victorious. Nay, he appeared in public with a chaplet of flowers, returned solemn thanks for the pretended success, and sent portions of the sacrifice to his friends. When he came up to Coronea, t and was in view of the enemy, he drew up his army. The left wing he gave to the Orchomenians, and took the right himself. The Thebans, also, putting themselves in order of battle, placed themsrlves on the right, and the Argives on the left. Xeno- phon says, that this was the most furious battle in his time; and he certainly was able to judge, for * This eclipse happened on the twenty-ninth of August, in the third year of the ninety-sixth Olympiad, three hun- dred and ninety-two years before the Christian era. t In the printed text it is Coronea. nor have we any va- rious reading. But undoubtedly Charonea, upon the Cepbi- sis, was the place where the battle was fought; and we must not confound it with the battle of Coronea in Thessalj fought tifty-U'ree years, before. A G E S 1 L A U S . 897 h fought in it for Agesilaus, with whom he re- turned from Asia. The first charge was neither violent nor lasting; the Thebans soon routed the Orchomenians, and Agesilaus the Argives. But when both parties were informed that their left wings were broken and ready for flight, both hastened to their relief. At this instant, Agesilaus might have secured to himself the victory, without any risk, if he would have .suffered the Thebans to pass, and then have charged them in the rear;* but borne along with his fury, and an ambition to display his valor, he attacked them in front, in the confidence of beat- ing them upon equal terms. They received him, however, with equal vivacity, and great efforts were exerted in all quarters, especially where Agesilaus and his fifty Spartans were engaged. It was a happy circumstance that he had those volunteers, and they could not have come more seasonably. For they fought with the most deter- mined valor, and exposed their persons to the greatest dangers in his defense; yet they could not prevent his being wounded. He was pierced through his armor in many places with spears and swords; and though they formed a ring about him, it was with difficulty they brought him off alive, after having killed numbers of the enemy, and left not a few of their own body dead on the spot. At lust, finding it impracticable to break the The- ban front, they were obliged to have recourse to a maneuver which at first they scorned. They opened their ranks, and let the Thebans pass; after which, observing that they marched in a dis- orderly manner, they made up again, and took them in flank and rear. They could not, how- ever, break them. The Thebans retreated to Helicon, valuing themselves much upon the bat- tle, because their part of the army was a full match for the Lacedaemonians. Agesilaus, though he was much weakened by his wounds, would not retire to his tent, until he had been carried through all his battalions, and had seen the dead borne off upon their arms. Meantime he was informed, that a part of the enemy had taken refuge in the temple of the Itonian Minerva, and he gave orders that they should be dismissed in safety. Before this temple stood a trophy, which the Boeotians had formerly erected, when, under the conduct of Sparton, they had defeated the Athenians, and killed their gene- ral Tolmides.f Early next morning, Agesilaus, willing to try whether the Thebans would renew the combat, Commanded his men to wear garlands, and the music to play, while he reared and adorned a trophy in token of victory. At the same time, the enemy applied to him for leave to carry off their dead : which circumstance confirmed the victory to him. He, therefore, granted them a truce for that purpose, and then caused himself to be carried to Delphi, where they were celebrating the Pythian games. There he ordered a solemn procession in honor of the god, and consecrated to him the tenth of the spoils he had taken in Asia. The offering amounted to a hundred talents. Upon his return to Sparta, he was greatly be- loved by the citizens, who admired the peculiar temperance of his life. For he did not, like other generals, come changed from a foreign country, nor, in fondness for the fashions he had seen there, disdain those of his own. On the contrary, he howed as much attachment to the Spartan cns- Xenophon gives another turn to the matter; for with him Afesilans was never wrong. t In the battle of Coronea. toms as those who had never passed the Eurotas. He changed not his repasts, his baths, the equipage of his wife, the ornaments of his armor, or the furniture of his house. He even iet his doors re- main, which were so old that they seemed to bo those set up by Aristodemus.* Xenophon also assures us, that his daughter's carriage was not in the least richer than those of other young ladies. These carriages, called canathra, and made use of by the virgins in their solemn processions, were a kind of wooden chaises, made in the form of griffins, or goat stags. Xenophon has not given us the name of this daughter of Agrsilaus: and Dicaearchus is greatly dissatisfied, that neither her name is preserved, nor that of the mother of Epa- minondas. But we find by some Lacedaemonian inscriptions, that the wife of Agesilaus was called Cleora, and his daughters Apolia and Prolyta.f We see also at Lacedasmon the spear he fought with, which differs not from others. As he observed that many of the citizens valued themselves upon breeding horses for the Olympic games, he persuaded his sister Cynisca, to make an attempt that way, and to try her fortune in the chariot-race in person. This he did, to show the Greeks that a victory of that kind did not depend upon any extraordinary spirit or abilities, but only upon riches and expense. Xenophon, so famed for wisdom, spent much of his time with him, and he treated him with great respect. He also desired him to send for his sons, that they might have the benefit of a Spartan education, by which they would gain the best knowledge in the world, the knowing how to command and how to obey. After the death of Lysander, he found out a conspiracy, which that general had formed against him immediately after his return from Asia. And he was inclined to show the public what kind of man Lysander really was, by exposing an oration, found among his papers, which had been com- posed for him by Cleou of Halicarnassus, and was to have been delivered by him to the people, in order to facilitate the innovations he was meditat- ing in the constitution. But one of the senators having the perusal of it, and finding it a very plausible composition, advised him "not to dig Lysander out of his grave, but rather to bury the oration with him." The advice appeared reason- able, and he suppressed the paper. As for the persons who opposed the measures most, he made no open reprisals upon them; but he found means to employ them as generals or governors. When invested with power, they soon showed what unworthy and avaricious men they were, and in consequence, were called to account for their proceedings. Then he used to assist them in their distress, and labor to get them ac- quitted; by which he made them fri(iids and par- tisans instead of adversaries; so that at last he had no opposition to contend with. For his royal colleague Agesipolis,J being the son of an exile, very young, and of a mild and modest disposition, interfered not much in the affairs of government, Agesilaus contrived to make him yet more tract- able. Two kings, when they were at Sparta, eat at the same table. Agesilaus knew that Agesi- polis was open to the impressions of love as well as himself, and therefore constantly turned the * Aristodemns, the son of Hercules, and founder of th royal family of Sparta, flourished eleven hundred years be- fore the Christian era; so that the gates of Agesilaus'* palace, if set up by Aristodemu*,had then stood seven hun- dred and eight years. t Eupolia and Proauga. Cod. \ r uleob. i Agesipolis was the ion of Pausania*. 398 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. conversation upon some amiable young persons. He even assisted him in his views that way, and brought him at last to fix upon the same favorite with himself. For at Sparta there is nothing criminal in these attachments; on the contrary (as we have observed in the life of Ly- curgus)', such love is productive of the greatest modesty and honor, and its characteristic is an ambition to improve the object in virtue. Agesilaus, thus powerful in Sparta, had the ad- dress to get Teleuiias, his brother by the mother's side, appointed admiral. After which, he march- ed against Corinth* with his land forces, and took the long walls; Teleutias assisted his opera- tions by sea. The Argives, who were then in possession of Corinth, were celebrating the Isth- mian Games: and Agesilaus coming upon them as they were engaged in the sacrifice, drove them away, and seized upon all that they had prepared for the festival. The Corinthian exiles who at- tended him, desired him to undertake the ex- hibition, as president; but not choosing that, he ordered them to proceed with the solemnity, and stayed' to guard them. But when he was gone, the Argives celebrated the games over again; and some who had gained the prize before, had the 8:une good fortune a second time; others who were victorious then, were now in the list of the van- quished. Lysaiider took the opportunity to re- mark how great the cowardice of the Argives must be, who, while they reckoned the. presidency at those games so honorable a privilege, did not dare to risk a battle for it. He was, indeed, of opinion, that a moderate regard for this sort of diversions was best, and applied himself to em- bellish the choirs and public exercises of his own country. When he was in Sparta, he honored them with his presence, and supported them with great zeal and spirit, never missing any of the exercises of the young men or the virgins. As for other entertainments, so much admired by the world, he seemed not even to know them. One day Callipedes, who had acquired great re- putation among the Greeks as a tragedian, and was universally caressed, approached and paid his respects to him; after which he mixed with a pom- pous air in his train, expecting he would take some honorable notice of him. At last he said, " Do not you know me, Sir?" The king casting his eyes upon him, answered slightly, " Are you not Callipedes the stagep layer!" Another time, being asked to go to hear a man who mimicked the nightingale to great perfection, he refused, and said, " I have heard the nightingale herself." Menecrates the physician, having succeeded in some desperate cases, got the surname of Jupiter. And he was so vain of the appellation, that he made use of it in a letter to the king. "Mene- crates Jupiter to king Agesilaus, health." His answer began thus: "King Agesiiaus to Mene- crates, his senses." When he was in the territories of Corinth, he took the temple of Juno: and as he stood looking upon the soldiers who were carrying off the pri- soners and the spoils, ambassadors came from Thebes with proposals of peace. He had ever hated that city; and now thinking it necessary to express his contempt for it, he pretended not to see the ambassadors, nor to hear their address, * There were two expeditions of Agesilans against Corinth; Plutarch in this place confounds them; wh*reas Xenophon, in his fourth book, has distinguished them very elearly. The enterprise in which Teleutias assisted did not succeed; for Iphicrates, the Athenian general, kept Corinth and its territories from feeling the effects of Aesi- an*'* resentnent. though they were before him. Heaven, however, avenged the affront. Before they were gone, news was brought him, that a battalion of Spartans waa cut in pieces by Iphicrates. This was one of the greatest losses his country had sustained for a long time: and beside being deprived of a number of brave men, there was this mortification, that their heavy-armed soldiers were beaten by the light- armed, and Lacedemonians by mercenaries. Agesilaus immediately marched to their assist- ance; but finding it too late, he returned to the temple of Juno, and acquainted the Breotian am- bassadors that he was ready to give them audience. Glad of the opportunity to return the insult, they came, but made no mention of the peace. They only desired a safe conduct to Corinth. Agesilaus, provoked at the demand, answered, "If you are desirous to see your friends in th$ elevation of success, to-morrow you shall do it with all the security you can desire." Accordingly, the next day he laid waste the territories of Corinth, and taking them with him, advanced to the very walls. Thus having shown the ambassadors, that the Corinthians did not dare to oppose him, he dis- missed them: then he collected such of his coun- trymen as had escaped in the late action, and marched to Lacedsemon; taking care every day to move before it was light, and to encamp after it was dark, to prevent the insults of the Arcaalians, to whose aversion and envy he was no stranger. After this, to gratify the Achaeaus,* he led his forces, along with theirs, into Acarnania, where he made an immense booty, and defeated the Acarnanians in a pitched battle. The Achseans desired him to stay until winter, in order to prevent the enemy from sowing their lands. But he said, " The step he should take would be the very re- verse; for they would be more afraid of war, when they had their fields covered with corn." The event justified his opinion. Next year, as soon as an army appeared upon their borders, they made peace with the Achasans. When Conon and Pharnabazus, with the Per- sian fleet, had made themselves masters of the sea, they ravaged the coasts of Laconia; and the walls of Athens were rebuilt with the money which Pharnabazus supplied. The Lacedemonians then thought proper to conclude a peace with the Per- sians, and sent Antalcidas to make their proposals to Tiribazus. Antalcidas, on this occasion, acted an infamous part to the Greeks in Asia; and deliver- ed up those cities to the king of Persia, for whose liberty Agesilaus had fought. No part of the dis- honor, indeed, fell upon Agesilaus. Antalcidas was his enemy, and he hastened the peace by all the means he could devise, because, he knew tho war contributed to the reputation and power of the man he hated. Nevertheless, when Agesilaus was told, "the Lacedemonians were turning Medes," he said, "No; the Medes are turning Lacedaemonians." And as some of the Greeks were unwilling to be comprehended in the treaty, he forced them to accept the king's terms, by threatening them with war.f The Achaeans were in possession of Calydon, which to the ^Etolians. The AcarnaiiKins, Athenians and Bmotians, attempted 10 before had belonged to the ^Etolians. The AcarnaiiKins, now assisted by the Athenians and Bmotians, attempted 10 make themselves masters of it. But the Achseans applied to the Lacedaemonians for succors, who employed Agesihiui in that business. Xen. Or. Hist, book iv. t The king of Persia's terms were: That the Greek cities in Asia, with the islands of Clazomense and Cyprus, shotiJd remain to him; that al! the other states, small and great, should be left free excepting only Lemnos, Imbros, and Scy- ros, which having been from time immemorial subject to the Athenians, should remain so; and that such as refused to embrace the peace, should be compelled to admit it bj force of arms. Xen. HelJen, lib. v. AGESILAUS. 399 Hw view in this was to weaken the Thebans; for it was one of the conditions that the cities of Boeotia should be free and independent. The sub- sequent events made the matter very clear. When Phoebidas, in the most unjustifiable manner, had seized the citadel of Cadmea in time of full peace, the Greeks in general expressed their in- dignation, and many of the Spartans did the same particularly those who were at variance with Agesilaus. These asked him in an angry tone. "By whose orders Phoebidas had done so unjust a thing?" hoping to bring the blame upon them. He scrupled not to say, in behalf of Phoebidas, " You should examine the tendency of the action; consider whether it is advantageous to Sparta. If its nature is such, it was glorious to do it without any orders." Yet in his discourse he was always magnifying justice, and giving her the first rank among the virtues. "Unsup- ported by justice," said he, "valor is good for nothing;* and if all men were just, there would be no need of valor." If any one, in the course of conversation happened to say, " Such is the pleasure of the great king;" he would answer, "How is he greater than I, if he is not more just?" which implies a maxim indisputably right, that justice is the royal instrument by which we are to take the different proportions of human excellence. Afler the peace was concluded, the king of Persia sent him a letter, whose purport was, to propose a private friendship, and the rites of hos- pitality between them; but he declined it. He said, " The public friendship was sufficient; and while that lasted, there was no need of a private one." Yet he did not regulate his conduct by these honorable sentiments: on the contrary, he was often carried away by his ambition and resent- ment. Particularly in this affair of the Thebans, he not only screened Phoebidas from punishment, but persuaded the Spartan commonwealth to join in his crime, by holding the Cadmea for them- selves, and putting the Theban administration in the hands of Archias and Leontidas, who had betrayed the citadel to Phoebidas. Hence it was natural to suspect that though Phoebidas was the instrument, the design was formed by Agesilaus, und the subsequent proceedings confirmed it be- yond contradiction. For when the Athenians had expelled the garrison.f and restored the Thebans to their liberty, he declared war against the latter for putting to death Archias and Leontidas, whom he called Polemarchs, but who in fact were tyrants. Cleombrotns,i who upon the death of Agesipolis succeeded to the throne, was sent with ttn army into Bceotia. For Agesilaus, who was now forty years above the age of puberty, and consequently excused from service by law, was ?ery willing to decline this commission. Indeed, as he had lately made war upon the Phliasians in favor of exiles, he was ashamed now to appear in arms against the Thebans for tyrants. There was then a Laced lernonian named Spho- drias, of the party that opposed Agesilaus, lately appointed governor of Thespise. He wanted This peace of Antalcidas was made in the year before Christ H87. This is not the only instance, in which we find it was * maxim among the Lacedzernonians, that a man ought to be strictly just in his private capacity, but that he may take what latitude he pleases in a public one, provided hii ountry is a gainer by it. t See Xcn. Grec. Hist. 1. v, whence it appears that the Cadmea was recovered by the Athenian forces. t Cleombrotus was the youngest son of Puusaniai, and brother to Agesipolis. neither courage nor ambition; but he was govern- ed rather by sanguine hopes than good sense and prudence. This man, fond of a great name, and reflectinghowPhoebidas had distinguished himself in the lists of fame by his Theban enterprise, was persuaded it would be a much greater and more glorious performance, if without any direc- tions from his superiors, he could seize upon the Pirreus, and deprive the Athenians of the empire of the sea, by a sudden attack at land. It is said, that this was a train laid for him by Pelopidas and Gelon, first magistrates in Boeotia.* They sent persons to him, who pretended to be much in the Spartan interest, and who by mag- nifying him as the only man fit for such an ex- ploit, worked up his ambition until he undertook a thing equally unjust and detestable with the affair of the Cadmea, but conducted with less valor, and attended with less success. He hoped to have reached the Piraeus in the night, but day- light overtook him upon the plains of Thriasia. And we are. told, that some light appearing to the soldiers to stream from the temples of Eleusis, they were struck with a religious horror. " Spho- drias himself lost his spirit of adventure, when he found his march could no longer be concealed; and having collected some trifling booty, lie re- turned with disgrace to Thespioe. Hereupon, the Athenians sent deputies to Spar- ta, to complain of Sphodrias; but they found the magistrates had proceeded against him without their complaints, and that he was already under a capital prosecution. He had not dared to ap- Kear and take his trial; for he dreaded the rage of is countrymen, who were ashamed of his con- duct to the Athenians, and who were willing to resent the injury as done to themselves, rather than have it thought that they had joined in so flagrant an act of injustice. Sphodrias had a eon named Cleonymus; young and handsome, and a particular favorite of Archi- damus, the son of Agesilaus. Archidamus, as it is natural to suppose, shared in all the uneasiness of the young man for his father; but he knew not how to appear openly in his behalf, because Sphodrias had been a strong adversary to Agesi- laus. However, as Cleonymus applied to him, and entreated him with many tears to intercede with Agesilaus, as the person whom they had most reason to dread, he undertook the commis- sion. Three or four days passed, during which he was restrained by a reverential awe from speaking of the matter to his father; but he fol- lowed him up and down in silence. At last, when the day of trial was at hand, he summoned up courage enough to say, Cleonymus was a sup- pliant to him for his father. Agesilaus, knowing the attachment of his son to that youth, did not lay any injunctions upon him against it. For Cleonymus, from his infancy, had given hopes that he would one day rank with the worthiest men in Sparta. Yet he did not give him room to expect any great favor in this case: he only said, "He would consider what would be the con- sistent and honorable part for him to act." Archidamus, therefore, ashamed of the ineffi- cacy of his interposition, discontinued his visits to Cleonymus, though before he used to call upon him many times in a day. Hence the friends of Sphodrias gave up the point for lost; until an in- timate acquaintance of Agesilaus, named Etymo- cles, in a conversation which passed between * They feared the Lacedemonians were too strong fot them, and, therefore, put Sphodrias upon this act of hostil- ity against U-e Athenians, in order to draw them into the quarrel. 400 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. them, discovered the sentiments of that prince. He told them, "He highly disapproved that at- tempt of Sphodrias, yet he looked upon him as a brave man, and was sensible that Sparta had oc- casion for such soldiers as he." This was the way, indeed, in which Agesilaus constantly spoke of the cause, in order to oblige his son. By this Cleonymus immediately perceived with how much zeal Archidamus had served him; and the friends of Spliodrias appeared with more courage in his behalf. Agesilaus was certainly a most affectionate father. It is said, when his children were small, he would join in their sports; and a friend happening to find him one day riding among them upon a stick, he desired him "not to mention it until he was a father himself." Spliodrias was acquitted; upon which the Athe- nians prepared for war. This drew the censures of the world upon Agesilaus, who, to gratify an absurd and childish inclination of his son, obstruct- ed the course of justice, and brought his country under the reproach of such flagrant offenses against the Greeks. As he found his colleague Cleombrotus* disinclined to continue, the war with the Thebans, he dropped the excuse the law furnished him with, though he had made use of it before, and marched himself into Boeotia. The Thebans suffered much from his operations, and he felt the same from theirs in his turn. So that Antalcidas one day seeing him come off wounded, thus addressed him: "The Thebans pay you well for teaching them to tight, when they had neither inclination nor sufficient skill for it." It is certain the Thf bans were at this time much more formi- dable in the field than they had ever been; after hav- ing been trained and exercised in so many wars with the Lacedcemonbnis. For the same reason their ancient sage, Lycurgus, in one of his three or- dinances called Rhatrae, forbade them to go to war vrith the same enemy often; namely, to prevent the enemy from learning their art. The allies of Sparta likewise complained of Agesilaus, "That it was not in any public quar- rel, but from an obstinate spirit of private re- sentment.f that he sought to destroy the The- bans. For their part, they said, they were wear- ing themselves out, without any occasion, by going in such numbers upon this or that expedi- tion every year, at the will of a handful of Lace- daemonians." Hereupon, Agesilaus, desirous to show them that the number of their warriors was not so great, ordered all the allies to sit down promiscuously on one side, and all the Lacedaemonians on the other. This done, the crier summoned the trades to stand up one after another; the potters first, and then the braziers, the carpenters, the masons, in short all the me- chanics. Almost all the allies rose up to answer in one branch of business or other, but not one of the Lacedsemonians; for they were forbidden to learn or exercise any manual art. Then Agi-si- laus smiled and said, "You see, my friends, we send more warriors into the field than you." When he was come as far as Megara, upon his return from Thebes, as he was going up to the enate-house in the citadel, $ he was seized with spasms and an acute pain in his right leg. It swelled immediately, the vessels were distended * Xenophon says, the Kpfiori thought Agesilaun, as a more experienced general, would conduct the war better than Cleombrotus. T&f vtov has nothing to do in the text. t Tliis private resentment and enmity, which Agesilans entertained against the Tliebaiis, went near to bring ruin both upon himself and his country. t Xenophon (Hellen. 337, 1-2 fed. St.) says, it wa at he was goin from the temple of Venn 4 to the sc-u with blood, and there appeared all the signs of a violent inflammation. A Syracusan physician opened a vein below the ankle; upon which the pain abated, but the blood came so fast, that it was not stopped without great difficulty, nor until he fainted away, and his life was in danger. He was curried to Lacedsemon in a weak condition, and continued a long time incapable of service. In the meantime the Spartans met with sev- eral checks both by sea and land. The most con- siderable loss was at Leuctra.* which was the j first pitched battle the Thebaiis gained against j them. Before the last-mentioned action, all par- ties were disposed to peace, and the states of Greece sent their deputies to Lacedremon to treat of it. Among these was Epaminondas, who was celebrated for his erudition and philosophy, but had as yet given no proofs of his capacity for commanding armies. He saw the other de- puties were awed by the presence of Agesilaus, and he was the only one who preserved a proper dignity and freedom, both in his manner and his propositions. He made a speech in favor, not only of the Thebans, but of Greece in general; in which he showed that war tended to aggran- dize Sparta, at the expense of the other states; and insisted that the peace should be founded; upon justice and equality; because then only it would be lasting, when all were put upon an equal footing. Agesilans perceiving that the Greeks listened to him with wonder and great attention, asked him, " Whether lie thought it just and equitable that the cities of Bceotia should be declared free and independent? " Epaminondas, with great readi- ness and spirit, answered him with another ques- tion, "Do you think it reasonable that all the cities of Laconia should be declared independent?'* Agesilaus, incensed at this answer, started up, and insisted upon his declaring peremptorily, "Whether he agreed to a perfect independence for Bceotia?" and Epaminondas replied as before, " On condition you put Laconia in the same state." Agesilaus, now exasperated to the last degree, and glad of a pretense against the The- bans, struck their name out of the treaty, and declared war against them upon the spot. After the rest of the deputies had signed such points aa they could settle amicably, he dismissed them; leaving others of more difficult nature to be de- cided by the sword. As Cleombrotus had then an army in Phocis, the Ephnri sent him orders to march against the Thebans. At the same time they sent their com- missaries to assemble the allies, who were ill inclined to the war, and considered it as a great burden upon them, though they durst not contra- dict or oppose the Lacedaemonians. Many inau- spicious, signs and proJigies appeared, as we have observed in the life of Epaminondas; and Pro- theusf the Spartan opposed the war to the utmost * Some manuscripts have it Tcgyra; but here is no ne- cessity to alter the received reading; though Palmer in- sists so much upon it. For that of Leuctra was certainly the first pitched battle in which the Thebans defeated tha Athenians; and they effected it at the fir<t career. Heside, it appears from Xenophon (Hellan. :>49, 25), that Agesilans was not then recovered of the sickness mentioned in the t Protheus proposed that the Spartans should disband { their army, according to their engagement; tliat all the states i should carry their contributions 10 the temple of Apollo, ; to be employed only in making war upon such as should oppose the liberty of the cities. This, he said, would give ! the cause the sanction of Heaven, and the states of Greeca would at all times be ready to embark in it. Bvf the Spar- tans only laughed at this advice: for, as Xenophon addi, "It looked as if the gods were already urging on the W cedxmoniuns to their ruin." AGESILAUS. 401 of his power. But Agesilaus could not be driven from his purpose. lie prevailed to have hostili- ties commenced; in hopes, that while the rest of Greece was in a state of freedom, and in alliance with Sparta, and the Thebans only exeepted, he should have an excellent opportunity to cluustise them. That the war was undertaken to gratify his resentment, rather than upon rational motives, appears from hence: tiie treaty was concluded at Lacedajinon on the fifteenth ol June, and the La- ceda3inoniatis were defeated at Leuctra on the fifth of July: wruich was only twenty days after. A thousand citizens of Lacedaemon were killed there, among whom were their king Cleomhrotus and the flower of their army, who lell by his side The beautiful Cieonymus, the son of Sophodrias, was of the number: he was struck dowu-Jhree Bc.veral times, as he was fighting in defense of his prince, and rose up as often; and at last was killed with his sword in his hand.* After the Lacedaemonians had received this unexpected blow, and the Thebans were crowned with more glorious success than Greeks had ever boasted, in a battle with Greeks, the spirit and dignity of the vanquished was, notwithstanding, more to be admired and applauded than that of the conquerors. Ana, indeed, if, as Xenophon says, " Men of merit, in their convivial conversa- tions, let fall some expressions that deserve to be remarked and preserved, certainly the noble beha- vior and the expressions of such persons, when struggling with adversity, claim our notice much more." When the Spartans received the news of the overthrow at Leuctra, it happened that they were celebrating a festival, and the city was full of strangers; for the troops of young men and maidens were at their exercises in the theater. The Ephori, though they immediately perceived that their affairs were ruined, and that they had lost the empire of Greece, would not suffer the sports to break off, nor any of the ceremonies or decorations of the festival to be omitted; but having sent the names of the killed to their re- spective families, they stayed to see the exercises, the dances, and all other parts of the exhibition concluded f Next morning, the names of the killed, and of those who survived the battle, being perfectly as- certained, the fathers and other relations of the dead, appeared in public, and embraced each other with a cheer! ul air and a generous pride; while the relations of the survivors shut themselves up, as in time of mourning. And if any one was Epaminondas placed his best troops in one wing, and those he least depended on in the other. The former he commanded in person; to the latter he gave directions, that when they found the enemy's charge too heavy, thev i should retire leisurely, so as to expose to them a slopin" 1 1 front. Cleombrotus and Archidamus advanced to the charge willi great rigor; but, as they pressed on the Theban wing which retired, they gave Epaminondas an opportunity of charging them both in Hank and front; which he did with so much bravery, that the Spartans began to give way, espe- cially after Cleombrotus was slain, whose dead bodv, how- ever, they recovered. At lengt.li, they were totally' defeat- ed, chiefly by the skill and conduct of the Theban general. Four thousand Spartans were killed on the held of battle; whereas the Thebans did not lose above three hundred. uch was the fatal battle of Leuctra, wherein the Spartans lost their superiority in Greece, which they had held near five hundred years. t But where was the merit of all this? What could such a conduct have for its support but either insensibility or affec- tation? If they found any reason to rejoice in the glorious death* of their friends and fellow-citizens, certainly the ruin of the state was an object sufficiently serious to call them from the pursuits of festivity! But, Quos Jupiter vultpe.r- dcre prius dementat. The infatuation of ambition ami jeal- ousy drew upon them the Theban war, and it seemed to last upon them, even when they had felt its fatal consequences. Ztl : forced to go out upon business, he showed all tha tokens of sorrow and humiliation, both in his speech and countenance. The difference was still more remarkable among the matrons. They who expected to see their sons alive from the battle, were melancholy and silent, whereas those wno had au account that their sons were slain, repaired im- mediately to the temples to return thanks, and visited each other with all the marks of joy and elevation. * The people, who were now deserted by their allies, and expected that Epaminondas, in tht pride of victory, would enter Peloponnesus, called to mind the oracle, which they applied again to the lameness of Agesilaus. The scruples they had on this occasion, discouraged them extremely, and they were afraid the divine displeasure had brought upon them the late calamity for expelling a sound man from the throne, and preferring a lame one, in spite of the extraordinary warnings Heaven had given them against it. Nevertheless, in regard of his virtue, his authority, and re- nown, they looked upon him as the only man who could retrieve their affairs; for beside march- ing them under his banners as their prince and general, they applied to him in every internal disorder of the commonwealth. At present they were at a loss what to do with those who had fled from the battle. The Lacedemonians call such persons tresantas.* In this case they did not choose to set such marks of disgrace upon them as the laws directed, because they were so nume- rous and powerful, that there was reason to appre- hend it might occasion an insurrection: for such persons are not only excluded all offices, but it ia infamous to intermarry with them. Any man who meets them is at liberty to strike them. They are obliged to appear in a forlorn manner, and in a vile habit, with patches of divers colors; and to wear their beards half shaved and half unshaved. To put so rigid a law as this in exe- cution, at a time when the offenders were so numerous, and when the commonwealth had so much occasion for soldiers, was both impolitic and dangerous. * In this perplexity they had recourse to Agesi- laus, and invested him with new powers of legis- lation. But he, without making any addition, retrenchment, or change, went into the assembly and told the Lacedaemonians, " The laws should sleep that day, and resume their authority the day following, and retain it forever." By this means he preserved to the state its laws entire, as well as the obnoxious persons from infamy. Then, in order to raise the youth out of the depression and melancholy under which they labored, he entered Arcadia at the head of them. He avoided a battle, indeed, with great care, but he took a little town of the Mantineans, and ravaged the flat country. This restored Sparta to her spirits in some degree, and gave her reason to hope that she was not absolutely lost. Soon after this, Epaminondas and his allies entered Laconia. His infantry amounted to forty thousand men, exclusive of the light-armed, and those who, without arms, followed only for plun- der. For, if the whole were reckoned, there were not fewer than seventy thousand that poured into that country. Full six hundred years were elapsed since the first establishment of the Dorians ia Lacedrernon, and this was the first time in all that long period, they had seen an enemy in their territories; none ever dared to set foot in them before. But now a new scene of hostilities ap- * That is, persons governed by tkoirfctrt. 402 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. r>eared; the confederates advanced without resist- ance, laying all waste with fire and sword, as far as the Eurotas, and the very suburbs of Sparta. For, as Theopompus informs us, Agesilaus would not suffer the Lacedaemonians to engage with such an impetuous torrent of war. He contented himself witii placing his best infantry in the middle of the city, and other important posts; and bore the menaces and insults of the Thebans, who called him out by name, as the firebrand which had lighted up the war, and bade him fight for his country, npou which he had brought so many misfortunes. Agesilaus was equally disturbed at the tumult and disorder within the city, the outcries of the old men, who moved backward and forward, ex- pressing their grief and indignation, and the wild behavior of the women, who were terrified, even to madness, at the shouts of the enemy, and the flames which ascended around them. He was in pain, too, for his reputation. Sparta was a great and powerful state at his accession, and he now saw her glory wither, and his own boasts coine to nothing. It seems, he had often said, " No Spar- tan woman ever saw the enemy's camp." In like manner, when an Athenian disputed with Antal- cidas on the subject of vaior, and said, "We have often driven you from the banks of the Cephisus," Autalcidas answered, "But we never drove you from the banks of the Eurotas." Near akin to this, was the repartee of a Spartan of less note, to a man of Argos, who said, " Many of you sleep on the plains of Argos." The Spartan an- swered, "But not one of you sleeps on the plains of Lacedaemon." Some say, Antalcidas was then one of the JSphori, and that he conveyed his children to Cy- thera, in fear that Sparta would be taken. As the enemy prepared to pass the Eurotas, in order to attack the town itself, Agesilaus relinquished the other posts, and drew up all his forces on an emi- nence in the middle of the city. It happened that the river was much swollen with the snow which had fallen iu great quantities, and the cold was more troublesome to the Thebans than the rapidity of the current; yet Epaminondas forded it at the head of his infantry. As he was passing it, somebody pointed him out to Agesilaus; who, after having viewed him for some time, only let fall this expression, "O adventurous man!" All the ambition of Epaminondas was to come to an engagement in the city, and to erect a trophy there; but finding he could not draw down Agesi- laus from the hights, he decamped, and laid waste the country. There had long been a disaffected party in La- cedajmon, and now about two hundred of that party leagued together, and seized upon a strong post, called the Issorium, in which stood the temple of Diana. The Lacedaemonians wanted to have the place stormed immediately: but Age- eilaus, apprehensive of an insurrection in their favor, took his cloak and one servant with him, and told them aloud, "That they had mistaken their orders." I did not order you," said he, " to take post here, nor all in any one place, but some there (pointing to another place), and some in other quarters." When they heard this they were happy in thinking their design was not dis"- t/oveieii; and they came out and went to several posts as he directed them. At the same time he lodged another corps in the Issorium, mid took about fifteen of the mutineers, and put them to ueath in the night. Soon after this he discovered another, and much freater conspiracy of Spartans, who met privately in a house belonging to one of them, to consider of means to change the form of government. It was dangerous either to bring them to a trial in a time of so much trouble, or to let their cabals pass without notice. Agesilaus, therefore, having con- sulted with the Ephori, put them to death without the formality of a trial, though no Spartan had ever suffered in that manner before. As many of the neighboring burghers, and of the Helots who were enlisted, slunk away from the town, and deserted to the enemy, and this greatly discouraged his forces, he ordered his ser- vants to go early in the morning to their quarters, and where they found any had deserted, to hide their arms, that their numbers might not be known. Historians do not agree as to the time when the Thebans quitted Laconia. Some say the winter soon forced them to retire; the Arcadians being mpatient of a campaign at that season, and falling off in a very disorderly manner: others affirm, that the Thebans staid full three months: in which time they laid waste almost all the country. Theo- pompus writes, that at the very juncture the go- vernors of Bceotia had sent them orders to return, there came a Spartan, named Phrixus, on the part of Agesilaus, and gave them ten talents to leave Laconia. So that, according to him, they not only executed all that they intended, but had money from the enemy to defray the expenses of their return. For my part I cannot conceive how Theopompus came to be acquainted with this particular, which other historians knew no- thing of. It is universally agreed, however, that Agesilaus saved Sparta by controlling his native passions of obstinacy and ambition, and pursuing no measures but what were safe. He could not, indeed, after the late blow, restore her to her former glory and power. As healthy bodies, long accustomed to a strict and regular diet, often find one deviation from that regimen fatal, so one miscarriage brought that flourishing state to decay. Nor is it to be wondered at. Their constitution was admirably formed for peace, for virtue, and harmony; but when they wanted to add to their dominions, by force of arms, and to make acquisitions which Lycurgus thought unnecessary to their happiness, they split upon that rock he had warned them to avoid. Agesilaus now declined the service, on account of his great age. But his son, Archidamus, having received some succors from Dionysius, the Sicilian tyrant, fought the Arcadians, and gained that which is called the tearless battle', for he killed great numbers of the enemy, without losing a man himself. Nothing could afford a greater proof of the weakness of Sparta than this victory. Before it had been so common and so natural a 1115117 fcr Spartans to conquer, that on such occasions "they offered no greater sacrifice than a cock: the com- batants were not elated, nor those who received the tidings of victory overjoyed. Even when that great battle was fought at Mantinea, which Thucydides has so well described, the Ephori pre- sented the person who brought them the first news of their success with nothing but a mess of meat from the public table. But now, when an account of this battle was brought, and Archidamus ap- proached the town, they were not able to contain themselves. First, his father advanced to meet him with tears of joy, and after him the magistrates. Multitudes of old men and of women flocked to the river, stretching out their hands, and bless- j ng the gods, as if Sparta had washed off her lat AGESILAUS. 403 unworthy stains, and seen her glory stream out ufresh. Until that hour the men were so much ashamed of the loss they had sustained, that, it is Raid, they could not even carry it with an unem- barrassed countenance to the women. When Epaminondas re-established Messene, and the ancient inhabitants returned to it from all quarters, the Spurtans had not courage to oppose him in the field. But it gave them great concern, and they could not look upon Agesilaus without anger when they considered that in his reign they had lost a country full as extensive as Laconia. and superior in fertility to all the provinces of Greece; a country whose revenues they had long called their own. For this reason, Agesilaus re- jected the peace which the Thebans offered him; not choosing formally to give up to them what they were in fact possessed of. But while he was contending for what he could not recover, he was near losing Sparta itself, through the superior gen- eralship of his adversary. Th Mantineans had separated again from their alliance with Thebes, and called in the Lacedaemonians to their assist- ance. Epaminondas being apprized that Agesi- laus was upon his march to Mantinea, decamped from Tegea in the night, unknown to the Manti- neans, and took a different road to Laceda;mon from that Agesilaus was upon; so that nothing was more likely than that he would have come upon the city in this defenseless state, and have taken it with ease. But Euthynus, of Thespine, as Callisthenes relates it, or some Cretan, accord- ing to Xenophon, informed Agesilaus of the de- sign, who sent a horseman to alarm the city, and not long after entered it himself. In a little time the Thebans passed the Eurotas, and attacked the town. Agesilaus defended it with a vigor above his years. He saw tlrnt this was not the time (as it had been) for safe and cau- tious measures, but rather for the boldest and most desperate efforts; insomuch that the means in which he had never before placed any confidence, or made the least use of, staved off the present danger and snatched the town out of the hands of Epuminondas. He erected a trophy upon the occasion, and showed the children and the women how gloriously the Spartans rewarded their coun- try for their education. Archidamus greatly dis- tinguished himself that day, both by his courage ami agility, flying through the by-lanes, to meet the enemy where thry pressed the hardest, and everywhere repulsing them with his little band. But Isadus the son of Phoebidas, was the most extraordinary and striking spectacle, not only to his countrymen, but to the enemy. He was tall and beautiful in his person, and just growing from a boy into a man, which is the time the human flower has the greatest charm. He was without either arms or clothes, naked and newly anointed \vith oil, only he had a spear in one hand, and a sword in the other. In this condition he rushed out of his house, and having made his way through the combatants, he dealt his deadly blows among the enemy's ranks, striking down every man he engaged with. Yet he received not one wound himself; whether it was that Heaven preserved him in regard to his valor, or whether he appeared to his adversaries as something more than human. It is said, the Epkori honored him with a chaplet for the great things he had performed, but at the ame time, fined him a thousand drachmas for daring to appear without his armor. Some days after this, there was another battle be- fore Mantinea. Epaminondas, after having routed the first battalions, was very eager in the pursuit; when a Spartan, named Anticrutes, turned shoit, and gave him a wound with a spear, according to Dioscorides, or, as others say, with a sword. And, indeed, the descendants of Anticrates are to this day called machariones, swordsmen, in Lace- daemon. This action appeared so great, and was so acceptable to the Spartans, on account of their fear of Epaminondas, that they decreed gre?.t honors and rewards to Anticrates, and an exemp- tion from taxes to his posterity; one of which, named Callicrates,t now enjoys that privilege. After this battle, and the death of Epaminon- das, the Greeks concluded a peace. But Agesi- laus, under pretense that the Messenians were not a state, insisted that they should not be compre- hended in the treaty. All the rest, however, ad- mitted them to take the oath, as one of the states; and the Lacedemonians withdrew, intending to continue the war, in hopes of recovering Messe- nia. Agesilaus could not, therefore, be considered but as violent and obstinate in his temper, and insatiably fond of hostilities, since he took every method to obstruct the general peace, and to pro- tract the war; thouglf at the same time, through want of money, he was forced to borrow of his friends, and to demand unreasonable subsidies of the people. This was at a time, too, when he had the fairest opportunity to extricate himself from all his distresses. Beside, after he had let slip the power, which never before was at such a hight, lost so many cities, and seen his country deprived of the superiority both at sea and land, should ho have wrangled about the property and the reve- nues of Messene? He still lost more reputation by taking a com- mand under Tachos, the Egyptian chief. It was not thought suitable to one of the greatest charac- ters in Greece, a man who had filled the whole world with his renown, to hire out his person, to give his name and his interest for a pecuniary con- sideration, and to act as captain of a band of mer- cenaries, for a barbarian, a rebel against the king his master. Had he, now he was upward of eighty, and his body full of wounds and scars, accepted again of the appointment of captain- general, to fight for the liberties of Greece, his ambition, at that time of day, would not have been entirely unexceptionable. For even honorable pur- suits must have their times and seasons to give them a propriety; and the avoiding of all extremes is the characteristic which distinguishes honorable pursuits from dishonorable. But Agesilaus was not moved by this consideration, nor did he think any public service unworthy of him; he thought it much more unbecoming to lead an inactive life at home, and to sit down and wait until death should strike his blow. He therefore raised a body of mercenaries, and fitted out a fleet, with the money which Tachos had sent him, and theu set sail; taking with him thirty Spartans for his counselors, as formerly. Upon his arrival in Egypt, all the great officers of the kingdom came immediately to pay their court to him. Indeed, the name ana character of Agesilaus had raised great expectations in the Egyptians in general, and they crowded to the shore to get a sight of him. But when they bo- held no pomp or grandeur of appearance, and saw only a little old man, and in as mean attire, seated on the grass by the sea-side, they could not help regarding the thing in a ridiculous light, and ob- serving that this was the very thing represented in * Diodorus Siculus attributes this action to Grillus the son of Xenophon, who, he says, was killed immediately after. But Plutarch's account, it seems, was better grounded. t Near five hundred years after. 404 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. the fuble,* " The mountain had brought forth a mouse." They were still more surprised at his want of politeness, when tney brought him such presents as were commonly made to strangers of distinction, and he took only the flour, the veal, and the geese, and refused the pastries, the sweetmeats, and perfumes; and when they pressed him to ac- cept them, he said, "They might carry them to the Helots." Theophrastus tells us, he WAS pleased with the papyrus, on account of its thin and pliant texture, which made it very proper for chaplets; and, when he left Egypt, he asked the king for gome ot it. Tachos was preparing for the war; and Agesi- laus, upon joining him, was greatly disappointed to find he had not the command of all the forces given him, but only that of the mercenaries. 'Chahrias. the Athenian, was admiral: Tachos, however, reserved to himself the chief direction, both at sea and land. This was the first disagreea- ble circumstance that occurred to Agesilaus; and others soon followed. The vanity and insolence of the Egyptian gave him great pain, but he was forced to bear them. He consented to sail with him against the Phoenicians; and, contrary to his dignity and nature, submitted to the barbarian, until he could find an opportunity to shake off his yoke. That opportunity soon presented itself. Nectanabis, cousin to Tachos, who commanded part of the forces, revolted, and was proclaimed king by the Egyptians. In consequence of this, Nectanabis sent ambas- sadors to Agesilaus, to entreat his assistance. He made the same application to Chabrias, and prom- ised them both great rewards. Tachos was ap- prized of these proceedings, and begged of them not to abandon him. Chabrias listened to his re- quest, and endeavored also to appease the resent- ment of Agesilaus, and keep him to the cause he had embarked in. Agesilaus answered, "As for vou, Chabrias, you came hither as a volunteer, and, therefore, may act as you think proper; but I was sent by my country, upon the application of the Egyptians, for a general. It would not then be right to commence hostilities against the people, to whom I was sent as an assistant, except Sparta should give me such orders." At the same time he sent some of his officers home, with in- structions to accuse Tachos, and to defend the cause of Nectanabis. The two rival kings also applied to the Lacedemonians; the one as an an- cient friend and ally, and the other as one who had a greater regard for Sparta, and would give her more valuable proofs of his attachment. The Lacedemonians gave the Egyptian de- puties the hearing, and this public answer, "That they should leave the business to the care of Agesilaus." But their private instructions to him were, "to do what should appear most advanta- geous to Sparta." Agesilaus had no sooner receiv ed this order, than he withdrew with his mer cenaries, and went over to Nectanabis; covering this strange and scandalous proceeding with the pretense of acting in the best manner for his country :f when that slight vail is taken off, its * Athensens makes Tachos say this, and Agesilaus an wer, "Yon will find me a lion by and by." t Xenophon has succeeded well enough in defending Affcsilau-i, with respect to his undertaking ihe expeditions into Egypt. He represents him pleased with the hopes of making Tachos some return for his many services to the Lacedaemonians; of restoring, through his means, the Greek cities in Asia to their liberty, and of revenging the ill offices done the Spartans by the "king of Persia. But it was in vain for that historian to attempt to exculpate him, with respect to his deserting Tachos, which Plutarch justly treats as an set of treachery, right name is treachery, and base desertion. It ;s true, the Lacedaemonians, by placing a regard to the advantage of their country, in the first rank of honor and virtue, left themselves no cri- terion of justice, but the aggrandizement of Sparta. Tachos, thus abandoned by the mercenaries, took to flight. But, at the same time, there rose ip in Mendes another competitor, to dispute tha crown with Nectanabis; and that competitor advanced with a hundred thousand men, whom he had soon assembled. Nectanabis, to encour- age Agesilaus, represented to him, that though the numbers of the enemy were great, they were only a mixed multitude, and many of them me- chanics, who were to be despised for their utter ignorance of war. "It is not their numbers," said Agesilaus, "that I fear, but that ignorance and inexperience, you mention, which render them incapable of being practiced upon by art or stratagem: fol* those can only be exercised with success upon such as, having skill enough to suspect the designs of the enemy, form schemes to countermine him, and, in the meantime, are caught by new contrivances. But he who has neither expectation nor suspicion of that sort, gives his adversary no more opportunity than he who stands still gives to a wrestler." Soon after the adventurer of Mendes sent persons to sound Agesilaus. This alarmed Nec- tanabis: and when Agesilaus advised him to give battle immediately, and not to protract the war with men who had seen no service, but who. by the advantage of numbers, might draw a line of circumvallation about his trenches, and prevent him in most of his operations; then his fears and suspicions increased, and put him upon the ex- pedient of retiring into a large and well fortified town. Agesilaus could not well digest this in- stance of distrust; yet he was ashamed to change sides again, and at last return without effecting anything. He therefore followed his standard, and entered the town with him. However, when the enemy came up, and began to open their trenches, in order to inclose him, the Egyptian, afraid of a siege, was inclined to come immediately to an engagement; and the Greeks were of his opinion, because there was no great quantity of provisions in the place. But Agesilaus opposed it; and the Egyptians, on that account, looked upon him in a worse light than before, not scrupling to call him a traitor to their king. These censures he now bore with patience, because he was waiting a favorable moment for putting in execution a design he had formed. The design was this. The enemy, as we have observed, were drawing a deep trench round the walls, with an intent to shut up Nectanabis. When they had proceeded so far in the work that the two ends were almost ready to meet, as soon as night came on, Agesilaus ordered the Greeks to arm, and then went to the Egyptian, and said, "Now is the time, young man, for you to save yourself, which I did not choose to speak of sooner, lest it should be divulged and lost. The enemy with their own hands have worked out your security, by laboring so long upon the trench, that the part which is finished will pre- vent our suffering by their numbers, and the space which is left puts it in our power to fight them upon equal terms. Come on then; now show your courage; sally out along with us, with the utmost vigor, and 'save both yourself and your army. The enemy will not dare to stand us in front;, and our flanks are secured by tha trench." Nectanabis now, admiring his capacity, POMPEY. 405 put himself in the middle of the Greeks, and, ad- vancing to the charge, easily routed all that op- posed him. Agesilaus having thus gained the prince's con- fidence, availed himself once more of the s;une stratagem, as a wrestler sometimes uses the same sleight twice in one day. By sometimes pretend- ing to fly, and sometimes facing about, he drew the enemy's whole army into a narrow place, in- closed with two ditches that were very deep, and full of water. When he saw them thus en- tangled, he advanced to the charge, witb a front equal to theirs, and secured hy the nature of the ground against being surrounded. The conse- quence was, that they made but little resistance; numbers were killed, and the rest fled, and,were entirely put to the rout. The Egyptian, thus successful in his affairs, and firmly established in his kingdom, had a grateful sense of the services of Agesilaus, and pressed him to spend the winter with him. But he hastened his return to Sparta, on account of the wai she had upon her hands at home; for he knew that her finances were low, though, at the same time, she found it necessary to employ a body of mercenaries. Nectauabis dismissed him with great marks of honor, and, beside other presents, furnished him with two hundred and thirty talents of silver, for the expenses of the Grecian war. But as it was winter, he met with a storm which drove him upon a desert shore iu Africa, called the Haven of Menclaus; and there he died, at the age of eighty-four years; of which he had reigned forty-one in Lacedaemon. Above thirty years of that time he made the greatest figure, both as to reputation and power, being looked upon as commander-in-chief, and, as it were, king of Greece, until the battle of Leuc- tra. It was the custom of the Spartans to bury persons of ordinary rank in the place where they expired, when they happened to die in a foreign country, but to carry the corpses of their kings home. And as the attendants of Agesilaus had not honey to preserve the body, they embalmed it with melted wax, and so conveyed it to Lace- daemon. His son Archidamus succeeded to the crown, which descended in his family to Agis, the fifth from Agesilaus. This Agis, the third of that name, was assassinated by Leonidas, for at- tempting to restore the ancient discipline of Sparta. POMPEY. THE people of Rome appear, from the first, to have been affected toward Pompey, much In the same manner as Prometheus, in jEschylus, was toward Hercules, when after that hero had de- livered him from his chains, he says, The sire I hated, but the son I love.* For never did the Romans entertain a stronger and more rancorous hatred for any general than for Strabo, the father of Pornpey. While he lived, indeed, they were afraid of his abilities as a soldier, for he had great talents for war; but upon his death, which happened by a stroke of light- ning, they dragged his corpse from the bier, on the way to the funeral pile, and treated it with the greatest indignity. On the other hand, no man ever experienced from the same Romans an attachment more early begun, more disinterested in all the stages of his prosperity, or more constant and faithful in the decline of his fortune, than Pompey. The. sole cause of their aversion to the father was his insatiable avarice; but there were many causes of their affection for the son; his tem- perate way of living, his application to martial exercises, his eloquent and persuasive address, his strict honor and fidelity, and the easiness of access to him upon all occasions; for no man was ever less importunate in asking favors, or more gracious in conferring them. When he gave, it was without arrogance; and when he received, it was with dignity. In his youth 'he had' a very engaging counte- nance, which spoke for him before he opened his lips. Yet that grace of aspect was not unattend- ed with dignity, and amidst his youthful bloom there was a venerable and princely air. His Lair naturally curled a little before; which, together with the shining moisture and quick turn of his eye, produced a stronger likeness of Alexander the Great than that which appeared in the statues of that prince. So that some seriously gave him the name of Alexander, and he did not refuse it; others applied it to him by way of ridicule. And Lucius Philippus,* a man of consular dignity, as he was one day pleading for him, said, "It was no wonder if Philip was a lover of Alexander." We are told that Flora, the courtesan, took a pleasure, in her old age, in speaking of the com- merce she had with Pompey; and she used to say, she could never quit his embraces without giv- ing him a bite. She added, that Gemimus, one of Pompey's acquaintance, had a passion for her, and gave her much trouble with his solicitations. At last, she told him she could not consent on ac- count of Pompey. Upon which he applied to Porn- pey for his permission, and he gave it him, but never approached her afterward, though he seemed to retain a regard for her. She bore the loss of him, not with the slight, uneasiness of a prostitute, but was long sick through sorrow and regret. It is said that Flora was so celebrated for her beau- ty and fine bloom, that when Caecilius Metellus adorned the temple of Castor and Pollux witli statues and paintings, he gave her picture a place among them. Demetrius, one of Pompey's freedmen, who had great interest with him, and who died worth four thousand talents, had a wife of irresistible beauty. Pompey on that account behaved to her with less politeness than ??as natural to him, that he might not appear to be caught by her charms. * Of the tragedy of Prmirthcus Released, from which this line is taken, we have only some fragments remaining. Jupiter had chained Prometheus to the rocks of Caucasus, and Wercules, the SOB of Jupiter, released him. * Lucius Marcus Philippus, one of the greatest orators of his time. He was father-in-law to Augustus, having married his mother Attia. Horace speaks of him, liK i ep. 7. 406 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. But though he took his measures with so much care and caution in this respect, he could not escape the censure of his enemies, who accused him of a commerce with married women, and said he often neglected, or gave up points essen- tial to the public, to gratify his mistresses. As to the simplicity of his diet, there is a re- markable saying of his upon record. In a great illness, when his appetite was almost gone, the physician ordered him a thrush. His servants, upon inquiry, found there was not one to be had for money, for the season was past. They were informed, however, that Lucullus had them all the year in his menageries. This being reported to Pompey, he said, "Does Pornpey's life depend upon the luxury of Lucullus?" Then, without any regard to the physician, he ate something that was easy to be had. But this happened at a iater period in life. While he was very young, and served under his father, who was carrying on the war against Cinna,* one Lucius Terentius was his comrade, and they slept in the same tent. This Terentius, gained by China's money, undertook to assassinate Pompey, while others set fire to the general's tent. Pompey got information of this when he was at supper, and it did not put him in the least con- fusion. He drank more freely, and caressed Terentius more than usual; but when they were to have gone to rest, he stole out of the tent, and went and planted a guard about his father. This done, he waited quietly for the event. Teren- tius, as soon as he thought Pompey was asleep, drew his sword, and stabbed the coverlets of the bed in many places, imagining that he was in it Immediately after this, there was a great mutiny in the camp. The soldiers, who hated their gene- ral, were determined to go over to the enemy, and began to strike their tents and take up their arms. The general dreading the tumult, did not dare to make his appearance. But Pornpey was every- where; he begged of them with tears to stay, and at last threw himself upon his face in the gateway. There he lay weeping, and bidding them if they would go out, tread upon him. Upon this, they were ashamed to proceed, and all, except eight hundred, returned and reconciled themselves to their general. After the death of Strabo, a charge was laid that he had converted the public money to his own use, and Pompey, as his heir, was obliged to answer it. Upon inquiry, he found that Alexan- der, one of the enfranchised slaves, had secreted most of the money; and he took care to inform the magistrates of the particulars. He was ac- cused, however, himself, of having taken some hunting-nets and books out of the spoils of Ascu- lum; and, it is true, his father gave them to him when he took the place; but he lost them at the return of Cinna to Rome, when that general's creatures broke into and pillaged his house. In this affair he maintained the combat well with his adversary at the bur, and showed an acuteness and firmness above his years; which gained him so much applause that Antistius, the prretor, who had the hearing of the cause, conceived an affec- tion for him, and offered him his daughter ir marriage. The proposal, accordingly, was made to his friends. Pompey accepted it; and the treaty was concluded privately. The people, however, had some notion of the tiling from the paint which Antistius took for Pompey; and at last. * In the year of Rome 666. And as Pompey was born in the same yezr with Cicero, viz., in the year of Rome 647, he must, in this war with Cinna, have been nineteen year* old. when he pronounced the sentence in the name of all the judges, by which Pompey was acquitted, the multitude, as it were, upon a signal given, broke out in the old marriage acclamation of Talasio. The origin of the term is said to have been this. When the principal Romans seized the daughters of the Sabines who were come to see the games they were celebrating to entrap them, some herds- men and shepherds laid hold of a virgin remark- ably tall and handsome; and, lest she should be taken from them, as they carried her off, they cried all the way they went, Talasio. Talasius was a young man, universally beloved and admired; therefore all who heard them, delighted with the intention, joined in the cry, and accompanied them with plaudits. They tell us, the marriage of Talasius proved fortunate, and thence all bride- grooms, by way of mirth, were welcomed with that acclamation. This is the most probable ac- count I can find of the term.* Pompey in a little time married Anlistia; and afterward repaired to Cinna's camp. But finding some unjust charges laid against him there, he took the first private opportunity to withdraw. As he was nowhere to be found, a rumor prevailed in the army, that Cinna had put the young man to death; upon which, numbers who hated Cinna, and could no longer bear with his cruelties, at- tacked his quarters. He fled for his life; and be- ing overtaken by one of the inferior officers, who pursued him with a drawn sword, he fell upon his knees, and offered him his ring, which was of no small value. The officer answered, with great ferocity, " I am not come to sign a contract, but to punish an impious and lawless tyrant," and then killed him upon the spot. Such was the end of Cinna; after whom Carbo, a tyrant still more savage, took the reins of govern- ment. It was not long, however, before Sylla returned to Italy, to the great satisfaction of most of the Romans, who, in their present unhappy circumstances, thought the change of their mas- ter no small advantage. To such a desperate state had their calamities brought them, that no longer hoping for liberty, they sought only the most tolerable servitude. At that time Pompey was in the Picene, whither he had retired, partly because he had lands there, but more on account of an old attachment which the cities in that district had to his family. As he observed that the best and most considerable of the citizens left their houses, and took refuge in Sylla's camp as in a port, he resolved to do the same. At the same time he thought it did not become him to go like a fugitive who wanted pro- tection, but rather in a respectable manner at the head of an army. He therefore tried what levies he could make in the Picene,f and the people readily repaired to his standard: rejecting the ap- plications of Carbo. On this occasion, one Vin- dius happening to say, "Pompey is just come from under the hands of the pedagogue, and all on a sudden is become a demagogue among you," they were so provoked, that they fell upon him and cut him in pieces. Thus Pompey, at the age of twenty-three, with- out a commission from any superior authority, erected himself into a general; and having placed his tribunal in the most public part of the great city of Anximum, by a formal decree commanded the Ventidii, two brothers who opposed him in behalf of Carbo, to depart the city. He enlisted soldiers; he appointed tribunes, centurions, and * See more of this in the life of Roaiulu*. t Now the march of Ancona. POMPEY. 407 ither officers, according to the established custom. ' He did the same in all the neighboring cities; for the partisans of Carbo reined and gave place to him, and the rest were glad to range themselves under his banners. So that in a little time they raised three complete legions, and furnished him- self with provisions, beasts of burden, carriages; ill short, with the whole apparatus of war. lu this form he moved toward Sylla, not by hasty marches, nor as if he wanted to conceal himself; for he stopped by the way to harass the enemy, and attempted to draw off from Carbo all the parts of Italy through which he passed. At last, three generals of the opposite party, Carinna, Coelius and Brutus, came against him all at once, not in front, or in one body, but they hemmed him in with their three armies, in hopes to de- molish him entirely. Pompey, far from being terrified, assembled all his forces, and charged the army of Brutus at the head of his cavalry. The Gaulish horse on the enemy's side sustained the first shock; but Pom- pey attacked the foremost of them, who was a man of prodigious strength, and brought hirn down with a push of his spear. The rest imme- diately fled and threw the infantry into such dis- order that the whole was soon put to flight. This produced so great a quarrel among the three gene- rals, that they parted and took separate routes. In consequence of which the cities, concluding that the fears of the enemy had made them part, adopted the interest of Pompey. Not long after, Scipio the consul advanced to engage him. But before the infantry were near enough to discharge their lances, Scipio's soldiers saluted those of Pompey, and came over to them. Scipio, therefore, was forced to fly. At last Carbo sent a large body of cavalry against Pompey, near the river Arsis. He gave them so warm a recep- tion, that they were soon broken, and in the pur- euit drove them upon impracticable ground; so that finding it impossible to escape, they surren- dered themselves with their arms and horses. Sylla had not yet been informed of these trans- actions ; but upon the first news of Pompey's being engaged with so many adversaries, and such respectable generals, he dreaded the consequence, and marched with ail expedition to his assistance. Pompey, having intelligence of his approach, order ed his officers to see that the troops were armed and drawn up in such a manner as to make the handsomest and most gallant appearance before the commander-in-chief. For he expected great honors from him, and he obtained greater. Sylla no sooner saw Pompey advancing to meet him, with an army in excellent condition, both as to age and size of the men, and the spirits whicl success had given them, than he alighted; and upon being saluted of course by Pompey as im- pcrator, he returned his salutation with the same title: though no one imagined that he would have honored a young man, not yet admitted into the senate, with a title for which he was contending with the Scipios and the Marii. The rest of his behavior was as respectable as that in the first in- terview. He used to rise up and uncover his head, whenever Pompey came to him; which he was rarely observed to do for any other, though he had a number of persons of distinction about him. Pompey was not elated with these honors. On the contrary, when Sylla wanted to send him into Gaul, where Metellus had done nothing worthy of the forces under his directions, he said, " It was uoL right to take the command from a man who was his superior both in age and character; but If Metellus should desire his assistance in the con- duct of the war, it was at his service." Metellm accepted the proposal, and wrote to him to come; whereupon he entered Gaul, and not only signaliz- ed his own valor and capacity, but excited once more the spirit of adventure in Metellus, which was almost extinguished with age: just as brass in a state of fusion is said to melt a cold plate sooner than fire itself. But as it is not usual, when a champion has distinguished himself in the lists, and gained the prize in all the games, to record or to take any notice of the performances of his younger years; so the actions of Pompey, in this period, though extraordinary in themselves, yet being eclipsed by the number and importance of liis later expeditions, I shall forbear to mention, lest, by dwelling upon his first essayc, I should not leave myself room for those greater and more critical events which mark his character and turn of mind. After Sylla had made himself master of Italy, and was declared dictator, he rewarded his princi- oflicers with riches and honors; making them liberal grants of whatever they applied for. But he was most struck with the excellent qualities of Pompey, and was persuaded that he owed more to his services than those of any other man. He therefore resolved, if possible, to take him into hia alliance; and, as his wife Metella was perfectly of his opinion, they persuaded Pompey to divorce Antistia, and to marry ^Emilia, the daughter-in- law of Sylla, whom Metella had by Scaurus, and who was at that time pregnant by Another marriage. Nothing could be more tyrannical than this new contract. It was suitable, indeed, to the times of Sylla, but it ill became the character of Pompey to take JEmilia, pregnant as she was, from an- other, and bring her into his house, and at the same time to repudiate Antistia, distressed as she must be for a father whom she had lately lost, on account of this cruel husband. For Antistius was killed in the senate-house, because it was thought his regard for Pompey had attached him to the cause of Sylla. And her mother, upon this divorce, laid violent hands upon herself. This was an ad- ditional scene of misery in that tragical marriage; as was also the fate of ^Emilia in Pompey's house, who died there in childbed. Soon after this, Sylla received an account that Perpenna had made himself master of Sicily, where he afforded an asylum to the party which opposed the reigning powers. Carbo was hovering with a fleet about that island; Dornitius had entered Africa; and many other persons of great distinc- tion, who had escaped the fury of the proscriptions by flight, had taken refuge there. Pompey was sent against them with a considerable armament. He soon forced Perpenna to quit the island; and having recovered the cities, which had been much harassed by the armies that were there before his, lie behaved to them all with great humanity, ex- cept the Marnertines, who were seated in Messina. That people had refused to appear before his tri- bunal, and to acknowledge his jurisdiction, alleg- ing that they stood excused by an ancient privilege granted to them by the Romans. He answered, " Will you never have done with citing laws and privileges to men who wear swords]" His be- havior, too, to Carbo, in his misfortunes, appeared inhuman. For, if it was necessary, as, perhaps, it was, to put him to death, he should have done it immediately, and then it would have been the work of him that gave orders for it. But, instead of that, he caused a Roman, who had been honor- ed with three consulships, to be brought in chains i before his tribunal, where he sat in judgment oa 408 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. him, to the regret of all the spectators, and order- ed him to be led off to execution. When they were carrying him off, and he beheld the sword drawn, he was so much disordered at it, that he was forced to beg a moment's respite, and a private place for the necessities of nature. Gains Oppius,* the friend of Caesar, writes, that Potnpey likewise treated Quintus Valerius with inhumanity. For, knowing him to be a man of letters, and that few were to be compared to him in point of knowledge, he took him (lie says) ! aside, and after he had walked with him until lie} had satisfied himself upon several points of learn- ing, commanded his servants to take him to the block. But we must be very cautious how we give credit to Oppius, when he speaks of the friends and enemies of Caesar. Pompey, indeed, was under the necessity of punishing the princi- pal enemies of Sylla, particularly when they were taken publicly. But others he suifered to escape, and even assisted some in getting off. He had resolved to chastise the Himereans for attempting to support his enemies, when the ora- ter Sthennis told him, "He would act unjustly, if he passed by the person that was guilty, and punished the innocent." Pompey asked him, " Who was the guilty person?" and he answered, " I am the man. I persuaded my friends, and compelled my enemies, to take the measures they did." Pompey, delighted with his frank confes- sion and noble spirit, forgave him first, and after- ward /ll the people of Himera. Being informed that his soldiers committed great disorders in their excursions, he sealed up their swords, and if any of them broke the seal, he took care to have them punished. While he was making these and other regulations in Sicily, he received a decree of the senate; and letters from Sylla, in which he was commanded to cross over to Africa and to carry on the war with the utmost vigor, against Dornitius, who had assembled a much more powerful army than that which Marius carried not long before from Africa to Italy, when he made himself master of Rome, and of a fugitive became a tyrant. Pompey soon finished his preparations for this expedition; and leaving the command in Sicily to Mernmius, his sister's husband, he set sail with a hundred and twenty armed vessels, and eight hundred store- ships, laden with provisions, arms, money, and machines of war. Part of his fleet landed at Utica, and part at Carthage: immediately after which, seven thousand of the enemy carne over to him, and he had brought with him six legions complete. On his arrival, he met with a whimsical adven- ture. Some of his soldiers, it seems, found a treasure, and shared considerable sums. The thing getting air, the rest of the troops concluded that the place was full of money, which the Car- thaginians hud hid there in some time of public distress. Pompey, therefore, could make no use of them for several days, as they were searching for treasures; and he had nothing to do but walk about and amuse himself with the sight of so many thousands digging and turning up the ground. At last, they gave up the point, and bade him lead them wherever he plensed, for they were sufficiently punished for their folly. Domitius advanced to meet him, and put his troops in order of battle. There happened to be a channel between them, craggy and difficult to * The same who wrote an account of the Spanish war. He was also a biographer; but his works of that kind are Jost. He was mean enough to write a treatise, to show that Csesurio was not the sun of Caesar. pass. In the morning it began, moreover, to rain, and the wind blew violently; insomuch, that Do- mitius, not imagining there would be any action that day, ordered his army to retire. But Pompey looked upon this as his opportunity, and he passed the defile with the utmost expedition. The ene- my stood upon their defense, but it was in a dis- orderly and tumultuous manner, and the resist- ance they made was neither general nor uniform Beside, the wind and rain beat in their faces The storm incommoded the Romans too; for they could not well distinguish each other. Nay Pompey himself was in danger of being killed by a soldier, who asked him the word, and received not a speedy answer. At length, however, he routed the enemy with great slaughter; not above three thousand of them escaping out of twenty thousand. The soldiers then saluted Pompey imperator, but he said. he would not accept that title while the enemy's camp stood untouched; therefore, if they chose to confer such an honor upon him, they must first make themselves mas- ters of the intrenchments. At that instant they advanced with great fury against them. Pompey fought without his hel- met, for fear of such an accident as he had just escaped. The camp was taken, and Domitius slain; in consequence of which most of the cities immediately submitted, and the rest were taken by assault. He took Jarbas, one of the confede- rates of Domitius, prisoner, and bestowed his crown on Hiempsal. Advancing with the same tide of fortune, and while his army had all the spirits inspired by success, he entered Numidia, in which he continued his march for several days. and subdued all that came in his way. Thus he revived the terror of the Roman name, which the barbarians had begun to disregard. he chose not to leave the savage beasts in the deserts without giving them a specimen of the Roman valor and success. Accordingly he spent a few days in hunting lions and elephants. The whole time he passed in Africa, they tell us, was not above forty days; in which he defeated the enemy, re- duced the whole country, and brought the affairs of its kings under proper regulations, though he was only in his twenty-fourth year. Upon his return to Utica, he received letters from Sylla, in which he was ordered to send home the rest of his army, and to wait there with one legion only for a successor. This gave him a great deal of uneasiness, which he kept to himself, but the army expressed their indignation aloud; inso- much that when he entreated them to return to Italy, they launched out into abusive terms against Sylla, and declared they would never abandon Pompey, or suffer him to trust a tyrant. At first he endeavored to pacify them with mild represen- tations: and when he found those had no effect, he descended from the tribunal, and retired to his tent in tears. However, they went and took him thence, and placed him again upon the tribunal, where they spent great part of the day; they in- sisting that he should stay and keep the command, and he in persuading them to obey Sylla's orders, and to form no new faction. At last, seeing no end of their clamors and importunity, he assured them, with an oath, "That he would kill himself, if they attempted to force him." And even this hardly brought them to desist. The first news that Sylla heard of was, that Pompey had revolted; upon which he said to his friends, " Then it is my fate to have to contend with boys in rny old age." This he said, because Marius, who was very young, had brought him into so much trouble and danger. But wheu he POMPEY. 409 received true information of the affair, and ob- served that all the people flocked out to receive him, and to conduct him home with marks of great regard, he resolved to exceed them in his regards, if possible. He, therefore, hastened to meet him, and embracing him in the most affec- tionate manner, saluted him aloud by the surname of Magnus, or the Great: at the same time he ordered all about him to give him the same appel- lation. Others say, it was given him by the whole army in Africa, but did not generally obtain until it was authorized by Sylla. It is cer- tain, he was the last to take it himself, and he did not make use of it until a long time after, when he was sent into Spain with the dignity of pro- consul against Sertorius. Then he began to write himself in his letters and in all his edicts, Pom- pey the Great: for the world was accustomed to the name, and it was no longer invidious. In this respect we may justly admire the wisdom of the ancient Romans, who bestowed on their great men such honorable names and titles, not only for jnilitary achievements, but for the great qualities and arts which adorn civil life. Thus the people gave the surname of Maximus to Valerius,* for reconciling them to the senate after a violent dis- sension, and to Fabins Rnllus for expelling some persons descended of enfranchised slaves,f who had been admitted into the senate on account of their opulent fortunes. When Pompey arrived at Rome, he demanded a triumph, in which he was opposed by Sylla. The latter alleged, "That the laws did not allow that honor to any person who was not either con- sul or praetor." t Hence it was that the first Scipio, when he returned victorious from greater wars and conflicts with the Carthaginians in Spain, did not demand a triumph; for ho was neither consul nor prater. He added, " That if Pompey, who was yet little better than a beard- less youth, and who was not of age to be admitted into the senate, should enter the city in triumph, it would bring an odium both upon the dictator's power, and those honors of his friend." These arguments Sylla insisted on, to show him he would not allow of his triumph, and thai, in case he persisted, he would chastise his obstinacy. Pompey, not in the least intimidated, bade him consider, " That more worshiped the rising than the setting sun;" inlimating that his power was increasing, and Sylla's upon the decline. Sylla did not well hear what he said, but perceiving by tlio looks and gestures of the company that they were struck with the expression, he asked what it was. When he was told it he admired the spirit of Pompey, and cried, "Let him triumph! Let him triumph! " As Pornpey perceived a strong spirit of envy and jealousy on this occasion, it is said, that to mortily those who gave into it the more, he re- solved to have his chariot drawn by four ele- phants; for he had brought a number from Africa, which he had taken from the kings of that country. But finding the gate too narrow, he gave up that design, and contented himself with horses. This was Marcus Valerius, the brother of Valerius Pulr licola, who was dictator. t It .vas not his expellinjrthe descendants of enfranchised staves the .senate, nor yet his glorious victories, which pro- cured Fabius the surname of Maximus; but his reducing the populace ot" Rome into four tribes, who before were dis- persed among all the tribes, and, by that means, h-id too much influence in elections and other public affairs. These were called tribus urbanaR. Liv. is, 46. J Livy (Lib. xxxi.) tells us, the senate refused L. Cor- aelius Lentulus a triumph, tor the same reason, though they thought his achievements worthy of that honor. His soldiers, not having obtained all they ex- pected, were inclined to disturb the procession, but he took no pains to satisfy them: he said, " He had rather give up his triumph than submit to flatter them." Whereupon Servilius, one of the most considerable men in Rome, and one who had been most vigorous in opposing the triumph, declared, " He now found Pompey really the Great, and worthy of a triumph*" There is no doubt that he might then have been easily admitted a senator, if he had desired it; but his ambition was to pursue honor in a more un- common track. It would have been nothing strange, if Pompey had been a senator before the age fixed for it; but it was a very extraordinary instance of honor to lead up a triumph before he was a senator. And it contributed not a little to gain him the affections of the multitude; the peo- ple were delighted to see him, after his triumph, class with the equestrian order. Sylla was not without uneasiness at finding him advance so fast in reputation and power; yet he could not think of preventing it, until, with a high hand, and entirely against his will, Pompey raised Lepidus* to the consulship, by assisting him with all his interest in the election. Then Sylla, seeing him conducted home by the people, through the forum, thus addressed him: rt I see, young man, vou are proud of your victory. And undoubtedly it was a great and extraordinary thing, by your management of the people, to ob- tain for Lepidus, the worst man in Rome, the return before Catulus, one of the worthiest and the best. But awake, I charge you, and be upon your guard. For you have now made your ad- versaries stronger than yourself." The displeasure Sylla entertained in his heart against Pompey, appeared most plainly by his will. He left considerable legacies to his friends, and appointed them guardians to his son, but he never once mentioned Pompey. The latter, notwith- standing, bore this with great temper and modera- tion; and when Lepidus and others opposed his being buried in the Campus Martius, and his hav- ing the honors of a public funeral, lie interposed, and by his presence not only secured, but did honor to the procession. Sylla's predictions were verified soon after his death. Lepidus wanted to usurp the authority of a dictator; and his proceedings were not indi- rect, or vailed with specious pretenses. He im- mediately took up arms, and assembled the disaf- fected remains of the factions which Sylla could not entirely suppress. As for his colleague Catu- lus, the uncorrupted part of the senate and people were attached to him, and in point of prudence and justice, there was not a. man in Rome who had a greater character; but he was more able to direct the civil government than the operations of war. This crisis, therefore, called for Pompey, and he did not deliberate which side he should take. He joined the honest party, and was de- clared general against Lepidus, who by this time had reduced great part of Italy, and was master of Cisalpine Gaul, where Brutus acted for him with a considerable force. When Pompey took the field, he easily made his way in other parts, but he lay a long time be- fore Mutina, which was defended by Brutus. Meanwhile, Lepidus advanced by hasty marches to Rome, and sitting down before it, demanded a second consulship. The inhabitants were greatly alarmed at his numbers; but their fears were dis- * Marcus jEmilius Lepidus, who, by Pcmpey's interest, was declared consul with a. Lutatius Calnlus, in the yew of Rome t>?o. 410 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. eipated by a letter from Pompey, in which he as- sured them he had terminated the war withou striking a blow. For Brutus, whether he betrayec his army, or they betrayed him, surrendered him- self to Pompey; and having a party of horse given him as an escort, retired to a little town upon the Po. Pompey, however, sent Geminius the next day to dispatch him; which brought no srnal stain npou his character. Immediately after Bru- tus came over to him, he had informed the senate by letter, it was a measure that general had volun- tarily adopted, and yet on the morrow he put him to death, and wrote other letters, containing heavy charges against him. This was the father of that Brutus, who, together with Cassius, slew Ca?sar. But the son did not resemble the father, either in war or in his death, as appears from the life we have given of him. Lepidus, being soon driven out of Italy, fled into Sardinia, where he died of grief, not in consequence of the ruin of his affairs, but of meeting with a billet (as we are told) by which he discovered that his wife had dishonored his bed. At that time, Sertorius, an officer very different from Lepidus, was in possession of Spain, and not a little formidable to Rome itself; all the remains of the civil wars being collected in him, just as in a dangerous disease, all the vicious humors flew to a distempered part. He had already defeated several generals of less distinction, and he was then engaged with Metellus Pius, a man of great character in general, and particularly in war; but age seertled to have abated that vigor which is ne- cessary for seizing and making the best advantage of critical occasions. On the other hand, nothing could exceed the ardor and expedition with which Sertorius snatched those opportunities from him. He came on in the most daring manner, and more like a captain of a banditti than a commander of regular forces; annoying with ambuscades, and other unforeseen alarms, a champion who pro- ceeded by the common rules, and whose skill lay in the management of heavy-armed forces. At this juncture, Pompey, having an army without employment, endeavored to prevail with the senate to send him to the assistance of Metel- lus. Meantime, Catulus ordered him to disband his forces; but he found various pretenses for re- maining in arms in the neighborhood of Rome, until at last, upon the motion of Lucius Philip- pus, he obtained the command he wanted. On this occasion, we are told, one of the senators, somewhat surprised at the motion, asked him who made it, whether his meaning was to send out Pompey [ pro consule] as the representative of a consul? " No," answered he, " but [ pro consuli- bus] as the representative of both consuls; " inti- mating by this the incapacity of the consuls of that year. When Pompey arrived in Spain, new hopes were excited, as is usual upon the appearance of a new general of reputation; and such of the Spanish nation as were not very firmly attached to Sertorius, began to change their opinions, and to go over to the Romans. Sertorius then ex- pressed himself in a very insolent and contempt- uous manner with respect to Pompey; he said, " He should want no other weapons than a rod and ferula to chastise the boy with, were it not tiiat he feared the old woman;' 5 meaning Metel- lus. But, in fact, it was Pompey he was afraid of, and on his account he carried on his operations with much greater caution. For Metellus gave into a course of luxury and pleasure, which no one could have expected, and changed the simpli- city of a soldier's life lor a life of pomp and pa- rade. Hence Pompey gained additional honor and interest; for he cultivated plainness and frugn --i-'y more than ever, though he had not, in that re- spect, much to correct in himself, being natui. Jly sober and regular in his desires. The war appeared in many forms; but nolMng touched Pompey so nearly as the loss of Lau. on, which Sertorius took before his eyes Pompey thought he had blocked up the enemy, and spoke of it in high terms, when suddenly he found him- self surrounded, and being afraid to move, had the mortification to see the city laid in asp 33 in his presence. However, in an engagement near Valencia, he defeated Herennius and Perpenna, officers of considerable rank, who had taken part with Sertorius, and acted as his lieutenants, and killed above ten thousand of their men. Elated with this advantage, he hastened to at- tack Sertorius, that Metellus might have no share in the victory. He found him near the river Su- cro, and they engaged near the close of day. Both were afraid Metellus should come up; Pompey wanting to fight alone, and Sertorius to have but one general to fight with. The issue of the battle was doubtful; one wing in each army being victo- rious. But of the two generals Sertorius gained the greatest honor, for he routed the battalions that opposed him. As for Pompey, he was at- tacked on horseback by one of the enemy's infan- try, a man of uncommon size. While they were closely engaged with their swords, the strokes hap- pened to light on each other's hand, but with dif- ferent success; Pompey received only a slight wound, and he lopped off the other's hand. Num- bers then fell upon Pompey, for his troops in that quarter were already broken; but he escaped be- yond all expectation, by quitting his horse, with gold trappings and other valuable furniture, to the barbarians, who quarreled and came to blows about dividing the spoil. Next morning, at break of day, both drew up again, to give the finishing stroke to the victory, to which both laid claim. But, upon Metellus coming up, Sertorius retired, and his army dis- persed. Nothing was more common than for his forces to disperse in that manner, and afterward to knit again; so that Sertorius was often seen wandering alone, and as often advancing again at the head of a hundred and fifty thousand men, like a torrent swelled with sudden rains. After the battle, Pompey went to waft on Me- tellus; and upon approaching him, he ordered his lictors to lower the fasces, by way of compliment to Metellus, as his superior. But Metellus would not suffer it: and, indeed, in all respects he be- haved to Pompey with great politeness, taking nothing upon him on account of his consular dig- nity, or his being the older man, except to give the word, when they encamped together. And very often they had separate camps; for the en- emy, by his artful and various n;*aores, by making his appearance at different peaces almost at the same instant, and by drawing them from one action to another, obliged them to divide. He cut off their provisions, he laid waste their country, lie made himself master of the sea; the conse- quence of which was, that they were both forced to quit their own provinces, and go into those of others for supplies. Pompey, having exhausted most of his own for- ;une in support of the war, applied to the senate for money to pay the troops, declaring he would return with his army to Italy, if they did not send t to him. Lucullus, who was then consul, though le was upon ill terms with Pompey, took care to urnish him with the money as soon as possible; POMPEY. 411 because he wanted to be employed himself in the Mithridatic war, and he was afraid to give Pbmpey a pretext to leave Sertorius, and to solicit the com- mand against Mithridates, which was a more hon- orable, and yet appeared a less difficult commis- sion. Meantime, Sertorius was assassinated by his own officers;* and Perpenna, who was at the head of the conspirators, undertook lo supply his place. He had, indeed, the same troops, the same magazines and supplies, but he had not the same understanding to make a proper use of them. Pompey immediately took the field, and having intelligence that Perpenna was greatly embar- rassed as to the measures he should take, he threw out ten cohorts as a bait for him, with, orders to spread themselves over the plain. When he found it took, and that Perpenna was busied in the pur- suit of that handful of men, he suddenly made his appearance with the main body, attacked the enemy, and routed them entirely. Most of the officers fell in. the battle; Perpenna himself was taken prisoner, and brought to Pompey, who com- manded him to be put to death. Nevertheless, Pompey is not to be accused of ingratitude, nor are we to suppose him (as some will have it) for- getful of the services he had received from that officer in Sicily. On the contrary, he acted with a wisdom and dignity of mind that proved very salutary to the public. Perpenna having got the papers of Sertorius into his hands, showed letters by which some of the most powerful men in Rome, who were desirous to raise new commo- tions, and overturn the establishment, had invited Sertorius into Italy. But Pompey fearing those letters might excite greater wars than that he was then finishing, put Perpenna to death, and burned the papers without reading them. He stayed just long enough in Spain to compose the troubles, and to remove such uneasiness as might lend to break the peace; after which he marched back to Italy, where he arrived, as fortune would have it, when the Servile war was at the hight. Crassus, who had the command in that war, upon the arrival of Pompey, who, he feared, might snatch the laurels out of his hand, resolved to come to battle, however hazardous it might prove. He succeeded and killed twelve thousand three hundred of the enemy. Yet fortune, in some sort, interweaved this with the honors of Pompey; for he killed five thousand of the slaves, whom he fell in with as they fled after the battle. Imme- diately upon this, to be beforehand with Crassus, he wrote to the senate, " That Crassus had beaten the gladiators in a pitched battle, but that it was he who had cut up the war by the roots." The Romans took pleasure in speaking of this, one among another, on account of their regard for Pompey; which was such, that no part of the success in Spain, against Sertorius, was ascribed by a man of them, either in jest or earnest, to any but Pompey. Yet these honors and this high veneration for the man, were mixed with some fears and jealousies that he would not disband his army, but, treading in 'he steps of Sylla, raise himself by the sword to sovereign power, and maintain himself in it, as Sylla had done.f Hence, the number of those * It was three years after the consulate of Lucnllus, that Sertorins was assassinated. t Cicero, in his epistles to Atticus, says, Pompey made but little secret of this unjustifiable ambition. The pas- sages are remarkable. Mirandum enim in modum Cneiuft noxter Syliani regni similitudinem concupivit: E/Jai? roi 2A.a>, nihil ille unquam minus obscure tulit. Lib. vii. ep. 9. "Our ftiend Pompey is wonderfully desirous of obtaining a that went out of fear to meet him, and congratu- late him on his return, was equal to that of thoso who wnt out of love. But when he had removed this suspicion, by declaring that he would dismiss his troops immediately after the triumph, there re- mained only one more subject for envious tongues; which was, that he paid more attention to the commons than to the senate; and whereas Sylla had destroyed the authority of the tribunes, he was determined to re-establish it, in order to gain the affections of the people. This was true: for there never was anything they had so much set their hearts upon, or longed for so extravagantly, as to see the tribunitial power put into their hands again. So that Pompey looked upon it as a peculiar hap- piness, that he had an opportunity to bring that affair about; knowing, that if any one should be before-hand with him in this design, he should never find any means of making so agreeable a return for the kind regards of the people. A second triumph was decreed him,* together with the consulship. But these were not con- sidered as the most extraordinary instances of his power. The strongest proof of his greatness was, that Crassus, the richest, the most eloquent, and most powerful man in the administration, who used to look down upon Pompey and all the world, did not venture to solicit the consulship whhout first asking Pompey's leave. Pompey, who had long wished for an opportunity to lay an obliga- tion upon him, received the application with plea- sure, and made great interest with the people in his behalf; declaring he should take their giving him Crassus for a colleague as kindly as their favor to himself. Yet when they were elected consuls, they dis- agreed in everything, and were embroiled in all their measures. Crassus had most interest with the senate, and Pompey with the people. For he had restored them the tribunitial power, and had suffered a law to be made, that judges should again be appointed out of the equestrian order.f How- ever, the most agreeable spectacle of all to the people was Pompey himself, when he went to claim his exemption from serving in the wars. It was the custom for a Roman knight, when he had served the time ordered by law, to lead his horse into the forum, before the two magistrates called censors; and after having given an account of the generals and other officers under whom he had made his campaigns, and of his own actions in them, to demand his discharge. On these occa- sions they received proper marks of honor or dis- grace, according to their behavior. Gellius and Lentulus were then censors, and had taken their seats in a manner that became their dignity, to review the whole equestrian order, when Pompey was seen at a distance with all the badges of his office, as consul, leading his horse by the bridle. As soon as he was near enough to be observed by the censors, he ordered his lictors power like that of Sylla; I tell you no more than what know, for he makes no secret of it." And again, Ho turpc Cneius no*ter biennio ante cogitauit; ita Sylla tulit animus ejus, et proscripturit. Ibi<l. ep. 10. " Pompey has been forming this infamous design for these two years past; so strongly is he bent upon imitating Sylla, and proscribing like him." Hence we see how happy i'. was for Rome, that in the civil wars, Caesar, and not Pompey, proved the conqueror. * He triumphed toward the end of the year of Rome 682, and at the same time was declared consul for the year en- suing. This was a peculiar honor, to gain the consulate without first bearing the subordinate offices; but his two triumphs, and his great services, excused that deviation from the common rules. t L. Aurelius Cotta carried that point when he was prse- tor; and Plutarch says again, because Caius Gracchus had conveyed that privilege to the knights fifty years before 412 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. to make an opening, and advanced, with his horse in hand, to the foot of the tribunal. The people were struck with admiration, and a profound silence took place; at the same time a joy, mingled with reverence, was visible in the countenances of the censors. The senior censor then addressed him as follows: "Pornpey, the Great, I demand of you, whether you have served all the campaigns required by law?" We answered, with a loud voice, "I have served them all; and all under myself, as general." The people were so charm- ed" with this answer, that there was no end of their acclamations. At last, the censors rose up, and conducted Pornpey to his house, to indulge the multitude, who followed him with the loudest plaudits. When the end of the consulship approached, and his difference with Crussus was increasing daily, Caius Aurelius,* a man who was of the equestrian order, hut had never intermeddled with state affairs, one day, when the people were met iii full assembly, ascended the rostra, and said, "Jupiter had appeared to him in a drearn, and commanded him to acquaint the consuls, that they must take, care to be reconciled before they laid down their office." Pornpey stood still and held his peace; but Crassus went, and gave him his hand, and saluted him in a friendly manner. At the same time he addressed the people as follows: "I think, my fellow-citizens, there is nothing dis- honofable or mean in making the first advances to Pornpey, whom you scrupled not to dignify with the name of the Great, when he was yet but a beardless youth, and for whom you voted two triumphs before he was a senator." Thus re- conciled, they laid down the consulship. Crussus continued his former manner of life, but Pornpey now seldom chose to plead the causes of those that applied to him, and by degrees he left the bar. Indeed, he seldom appeared in pub- lic, and when he did, it was always with a great train of friends and attendants; so (hut it was not easy either to speak to him or see him, but in the midst of a crowd. He took pleasure in having a number of retainers about him, because he thought it gave him an air of greatness and majesty, and he was persuaded that dignity should be kept'from be- ing soiled by the familiarity, and indeed by the very touch of the many. For those who are raised to greatness by arms, and know not how to descend again to the equality required in a republic, are very liable to fall into contempt when they re- sume the robe of peace. The soldier is desirous to preserve the rank in the/orum which he had in the field; and he who cannot distinguish himself in the field, thinks it intolerable to give place in the administration too. When, therefore, the latter has got the man who shone in camps and triumphs into the assemblies at home, and finds him attempting to maintain the same pre-eminence there, of course he endeavors to humble him; whereas, if the warrior pretends not to take the lead in domestic councils, he is readily allowed the palrn of military glory. This soon appeared from the subsequent events. The power of the pirates had its foundation in Cilicia. Tlieir progress was the more dangerous, because at first it was little taken notice of. In the Mithridatic war they assumed new confidence and courage, on account of some services they had rendered the king. After this, the Romans being engaged in civil wars at the very gates of their capital, the sea was left unguarded, and the pirates by degrees attempted higher things; they not only Ovatias Amelia*. attacked ships, but islands and maritime towns. Many'distinguished for their wealth, their birth and their capacity, embarked with them, and as- sisted in their depredations, as if their employment had been worthy the ambition of men of honor. They had in various places arsenals, ports, and watch-towers, all strongly fortified. Their fleets were not only extremely well manned, supplied with skillful pilots, and fitted for their business by their lightness and celerity; but there was a parade of vanity about them more mortifying than their strength, in gilded sterns, purple canopies, and plated oars; as if they took a pride and triumphed in their villany. Music resounded and drunken revels were exhibited on every coast. Here gene- rals were made prisoners ; there the cities the pirates had taken were paying their ransom; all to the great disgrace of the Roman power. The number of their galleys amounted to a thousand, and the cities they were masters of to four hundred. Temples, which had stood inviolably sacred until that time, they plundered. They ruined the temple of Apollo at Claros, that, where he was worshiped, under the title of Didymrens,* that of the Cabiri in Samothrace, that of Ceres f at Hermione, that of /Esculapius at Epidaurus, those of Neptune in the Isthmus, at Taenarus and in. Calauria, those of Apollo at Actium and in the isle of Leucas, those of Juno at Samos, Argos, and the promontory of Lacinium.t They likewise offered strange sacrifices; those of Olympus I mean, and they celebrated certain secret mysteries, among which those of Mithra continue to this day,|| being originally instituted by them. They not only insulted the Romans at sea. but infested the great roads, and plundered the villas near the coast: they carried off Sextiliua and Bellinus, two pra3tors, in their purple robes, with all their servants and lictors. They seized the daughter of Antony, a man who had been honored with a triumph, as she was going to nor country house, and he was forced to pay a large ransom for her. But the most contemptuous circumstance of all was, that when they had taken a prisoner, and he cried out that he was a Roman, and told them his name, they pretended to be struck with terror, smote their thighs, and fell upon their knees to ask him pardon. The poor man, seeing them thus humble themselves before him, thought them in earnest, and said he would forgive them; for some were so officious as to put on his shoes, and others to help him on with his gown, that his quality might no more be mistaken. When they had carried on this farce, and enjoyed it for some time, they let a ladder down into the sea, and bade him go in peace; and if he refused to do it, they pushed him off the deck, and drowned him. Their power extended over the whole Tuscan sea, so that the Romans found their trade and navigation entirely cut off. The consequence of So called from Didyme, in the territories of Miletus. t Pausanias (in Laconic), tells us the Lacedemonians worship Ceres under the name of Chthonia: and (in Corin- thi.ar.') he gives us the reason of her having that name. " The Arrives say, that Chthonia, the daughter of Colontas having b'een saved out of a conflagration by Ceres, and con- veyed to Hermione, built a temple to that goddess, who wa's worshiped there under the name of Chthonia." t The printed text gives us the erroneous reading of Lit- canium,bul two manuscripts give us Lacinium. Livy often mentions Juno Lacinla. Not on mount Olympus, but in the city of Olympus, near Phaselis in Pamphylia, which was one of the recepta- cles of the pirates. What sort of sacrifices they used to offer there is not known. H According to Herodotus, the Persians worshiped Venn* under the name of Mithres, or Mithra; but the sun is woi. in that country. POMPEY. 413 was, that their markets were not supplied, and they had reason to apprehend a* famine. This, at last, put them upon sending Pompey to clear the sea of pirates. Gabinius, one of Pompey's intimate friends, proposed the decree,* which created him not admiral, but monarch, and invest- ed him with absolute power. The decree gave him the empire of the sea as far as the pillars of Hercules, and of the land for four hundred fur- longs from tin coasts. There were few parts of the Roman empire which this commission did not take in; and the most considerable of the barba- rous nations and most powerful kings, were more- over comprehended in it! Beside this, he was empowered to choose out of the senators fifteen lieutenants, to act under him, in such districts, and with such authority as he should appoint. He was to take from the qurestors, and other pub- lic receivers, what money he pleased, and equip a fleet of two hundred sail. The number of marine forces, of mariners and rowers, were left entirely to his discretion. When this decree was read in the assembly, the people received it with inconceivable plea- sure. The most respectable part of the senate saw, indeed, that such an absolute and unlimited power was above envy, but they considered it as a real object of fear. They, therefore, all except Cresar, opposed its passing into a law. He was for it, not out of regard for Pornpey, but to insinu- ate himself into the good graces of the people, which he had long been courting. The rest were very severe in their expressions against Pompey: and one of the consuls venturing to say,f " If he imitates Romulus, he will not escape his fate," was in danger of being pulled in pieces by the populace. It is true, when Catulus rose up to speak against the law, out of reverence for his person they lis- tened to him with great attention. After he had freely given Pompey the honor that was his due, and said much in his praise, he advised them to spare him and not to expose such a man to so many dangers; "for where will you find an- other," said he, "if you lose him?" They answered with one voice, " Yourself." Finding his arguments had no effect, he retired. Then Roscius mounted the rostrum, but not a man would give ear to him. However he made signs to them with his fingers, that they should not appoint Pompey alone, but give him a colleague. Incensed at the proposal, they set up such a shout, that a crow, which was flying over the forum, was stunned with the force of it and fell down among the crowd. Hence we may conclude, that when birds fall on such occasions, it is not be- cause the air is so divided with the shock as to leave a vacuum but rather because the sound strikes them like a blow, when it ascends with such force, and produces so violent an agitation. The assembly broke up that day, without com- ing to any resolution. When the day came that they were to give their suffrages, Pompey retired into the country; and, on receiving information that the decree was passed, he returned to the city by night, to prevent the envy which the multitudes of people coming to meet him would have ex- cited. Next morning at break of day, he made his appearance, and attended the sacrifice. After * This law was made in the year of Rome 686. The crafty tribune, when he proposed it, did not name Pompey. Pompey was uow in the thirty-ninth year of his age. His friend Gabinius, ns appears from Cicero, was a man of in- famous character. 1 The consuls n this year were Calpurnius Piso, and Acilius Glabrio. which he summoned an assembly, and obtained a grant of almost as much more as tlie first decree had given him. He was empowered to fit out five hundred galleys, and to raise an army of a hun- dred and twenty thousand foot, and five thousand horse. Twenty-four senators were selected, who had all been generals or praBtors, and were ap- pointed his lieutenants; and he had two qurestors given him. As the price of provisions fell imme- diately, the people were gr6atly pleased, and it gave them occasion to say, " The very name of Pompey had terminated the war." However, in pursuance of his charge, he divided the whole Mediterranean into thirteen parts, ap- pointing a lieutenant for each, and assigning him a squadron. By thus stationing his fleets in all quarters, he inclosed the pirates as it were in a net, took great numbers of them, and brought them into harbor. Such of their vessels as had dispersed and made off in time, or could escape the general chase, retired to Cilicia, like so many bees into a hive. Against these he proposed to go himself with sixty of his best galleys; but first he resolved to clear the Tuscan sea, and the coasts of Africa, Sardinia, Corsica, and Sicily, of all pi- ratical adventurers; which he effected in forty days, by his own indefatigable endeavors and those of his lieutenants. But, as the consul Piso was indulging his malignity at home, in wasting his stores and discharging his seamen, he sent his fleet round to Brundusitun, and went himself by land through Tuscany to Rome. As soon as the people were informed of his ap- proach, they went in crowds to receive him, in the same manner as they had done a few days before, to conduct him on his way. Their extra- ordinary joy was owing to the speed with which he had executed his commission, so far beyond all expectation, and to the superabundant plenty which reigned in the markets. For this reason Piso was in danger of being deposed from the consulship, and Gabinius had a decree ready drawn up for that purpose; but Pompey would not suffer him to propose it. On the contrary, his speech to the people was full of candor and moderation ; and when he had provided such things as he wanted, he went to Brundusium, and put to sea again. Though he was straitened for time, and in his haste sailed by many cities without calling, yet he stopped at Athens. He entered the town and sacrificed to the gods; after which he addressed the people, and then prepared to re-embark immediately. As he went out of the gate he observed two inscriptions, each com- prised in one line. That within the gate was But know thyself a man, and be a god That without We wish'd, we saw; we loved, and we adored. Some of the pirates, who yet traversed the seas, made their submission; and as he treated them in a humane manner, when he had them and their ships in his power, others entertained hopes of mercy, and avoiding the other officers surrendered themselves to Pompey, together with their wives and children. He spared them all; and it was principally by their means that he fou:id out and took a number who were guilty of uiif ardonable crimes, and therefore had concealed themselves. Still, however, there remained a great number, and indeed the most powerful part of these cor- sairs, who sent their families, treasures, and all useless hands, into castles, and fortified towns upon Mount Taurus. Then they manned their ships, aud waited for Pompey at Coracesium, hi 414 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Cilicia A little ensued, and the pirates were defeated; after which they retired into the fort. But they had not been long besieged before they capitulated, and surrendered themselves, together with the cities and islands which they had con- quered and fortified, and which by their works, as well as situation, were almost impregnable. Thus the war was finished, and the whole force of the pirates destroyed, within three months at the farthest. Beside the other vessels, Pompey took ninety ships with beaks of brass ; and the prisoners amounted to twenty thousand. He did not choose to put them to death, and at the same time he thought it wrong to suffer them to disperse, be- cause they were not only numerous, but warlike and necessitous, and therefore would probably knit again and give future trouble. He reflected, that man by nature is neither a savage nor an unsocial creature; and when he becomes so it is by vices contrary to nature; yet even then he may be humanized by changing his place of abode, and accustoming him to a new manner of life: as beasts that are naturally wild put off their fierce- ness, when they are kept in a domestic way. For this reason he determined to remove the pirates to a great distance from the sea, and bring them to taste the sweets of civil life, by living in cities, and by the culture of the ground. He placed some of them in the little towns of Cilicia, which were almost desolate, and which received them with pleasure, because at the same time he gave them an additional proportion of land. He repaired the city of Soli,* which had lately been dismantled and deprived of its inhabitants by Ti- granes, king of Armenia, and peopled it with a number of these corsairs. The remainder, which was a considerable body, he planted in Dyma, a city of Achaia, which, though it had a large and fruitful territory, was in want of inhabitants. Such as looked upon Pompey with envy found fault witli these proceedings; but his conduct with respect to Metellus in Crete was not agreeable to his best friends. This was a relation of that Metellus who commanded in conjunction with Pompey in Spain, and he had been sent into Crete some time before Pompey was employed in this war. For Crete was the second nursery of pirates after Cilicia. Metellus had destroyed many nests of them there, and the remainder, who were be- sieged by him at this time, addressed themselves to Pompey as suppliants, and invited him into the island, as included in his commission, and falling within the distance he had a right to carry his arms from the sea. He listened to their applica- tion, and by letter enjoined Metellus to take no further steps in the war. At the same time he ordered the cities of Crete not to obey Metellus, but Lucius Octavius, one of his own lieutenants, whom he sent to take the command. Octavius went in among the besieged, and fought on their side; a circumstance which ren- dered Pompey not only odious, but ridiculous. For what could be more absurd than to suffer himself to be so blinded by his envy and jealousy of Metellus as to lend his name and authority to a crew of profligate wretches, to be used as a kind of amulet to defend them. Achilles was not thought to behave like a man, but like a frantic youth carried away by an extravagant passion for fame, when he made signs to h's troops not to touch Hector. Lest some strocg arm should snatch the glorious nrize Before Pelides. * He called it after his own name Pompeiopolis. But Pompey fought for the common enemies of mankind, in order to deprive a praetor, who was laboring to destroy them, of the honors of a tri- umph. Metellus, however, pursued his opera- tions until he took the pirates and put them all to death. As for Octavius, he exposed him in the camp as an object of contempt, and loaded him with reproaches, after which he dismissed him. When news was brought to Rome, that the war with the pirates was finished, and that Pom- pey was bestowing his leisure upon visiting the cities, Manilius, one of the tribunes of the people, proposed a decree, which gave him all the pro- vinces and forces under the command of Lucullus, adding likewise Bithynia, which was then gov- erned by Glabrio. It directed him to carry on the war against Mithridates and Tigranes; for which purpose he was also to retain his naval command. This was subjecting at once the whole Roman empire to one man. For, the provinces which the former decree did not give him, Phrygia, Lycao- nia, Galatia, Cappadocia, Cilicia, the Upper Col- chis, and Armenia, were granted by this, together with all the forces, which under Lucullus, had defeated Mithridates and Tigranes. By this law, Lucullus was deprived of the honors he had dearly earned, and had a person to succeed him in his triumph, rather than in the war; but that was not the thing which affected the Patricians most. They were persuaded, indeed, that Lucullus was treated with injustice and ingratitude; but it was a much more painful circumstance, to think of a power in the hands of Pompey, which they could call nothing but a tyranny.* They therefore exhorted and encour- aged each other to oppose the law, and maintaia their liberty. Yet when the time came, their fear of the people prevailed, and no one spoke on the occasion but Catulus. He urged many arguments against the bill; and when he found they had no effect upon the commons, he addressed himself to the senators, and called upon them many times from the rostrum, " To seek some mountain, as their ancestors had done, some rock whither they might fly for the preservation of liberty." We are told, however, that the bill was passed by all the tribes,f and almost the same universal authority, conferred upon Pompey in his absence, which Sylla did not gain but by the sword, and by carrying war into the bowels of his country. When Pompey received the letters which notified his high promotion, and his friends, who happened to be by, congratulated him on the occasion, he is said to have knit his brows, smote his thigh, and expressed himself as if he was already overburdened and wearied by the weight of power:} "Alas! is there no end of my conflicts? How much better would it have been to be one of the undistin- guished many, than to be perpetually engaged in war? Shall I never be able to fly from envy to a rural retreat, to domestic happiness, and conjugal endearments?" Even his friends were unable to bear the dissimulation of this speech. They knew the flame of his native ambition and lust of power * "We have then got at last," said they, "a sovereign; the republic is changed into a monarchy; the services of LucuJlus, the honor of Glabrio and Ma'rcius, two zealous and worthy senators, are to be sacrificed to the promotion of' Pompey. Sylla never carried his tyranny so far." t Two great men spoke in favor of the law, namely Cicero and Cassar. The former aimed at the consulate which Pompey's party could more easily procure him, than that of Catulus and the senate. As for Caesar, he was delighted to see the people insensibly lose that republican spirit and love of liberty, which might one day obstruct the vast de. signs he had already formed. i Is it. possible to read this, without recollecting the simi' lar character of our Richard ihe third? POMPEY 415 wa/ blown up to a greater hight by the difference! he bad with Lucullus, and that he rejoiced the UHste in tiie present preference, on that account. His actions soon unmasked the man. He caused public notice to be given in all places within his commission, that the Roman troops were to repair to him, as well as the kings and princes their allies. Wherever he went, he an- nulled the acts of Lucullus, remitting the fines he had imposed, and taking away the rewards he had given. In short, he omitted no means to show the partisans of that general that all his authority was gone. Lucullus, of course, complained of this treat- ment; and their common friends were of opin- ion, that it would be best for them to come to an interview; accordingly they met in Galatia. As they had both given distinguished proofs of mili- tary merit, the lictors had entwined the rods of each with laurel. Lucullus had marched through a country full of flourishing groves, but Pompey's route was dry and barren, without the ornament or advantage of woods. His laurels, therefore, were parched and withered; which the servants of Lucullus no sooner observed, than they freely supplied them with fresh ones, and crowned his fasces with them. This seemed to be an omen that Pompey would bear away the honors and rewards of Lucullus's victories. Lucullus had been consul before Pompey, and was the older man; but Pompey's two triumphs gave him the advantage in point of dignity. Their interview had at first the face of great politeness and civility. They began with mutual compliments and congratulations: but they soon lost sight even of candor and moderation; they proceeded to abusive language; Pompey reproach- nig Lucullus with avarice, and Lucullus accus- ing Pompev of an insatiable lust of power; in- somuch, that their friends found it difficult to pre- vent violence. After this, Lucullus gave his friends and followers lands in Galatia, as a con- quered country, and made other considerable grants. But Pompey, who encamped at a little distance from him, declared he would not suffer his orders to be carried into execution, and se- duced all his soldiers, except sixteen hundred, who, he knew, were so mutinous that they would be as unserviceable to him as they had been ill- affected to their old general. Nay, he scrupleu not to disparage the conduct of Lucullus, and to -ep- resent his actions in a despicable light, "'t'he battles of Lucullus," he said, "were only m<rck battles, and he had fought with nothing bui *he shadows of kings; but that it was left for him to contend with real strength and well disciplined armies; since Mithridates had betaken himself to swords and shields, and knew how to make pro- per use of his cavalry." On the other hand, Lucullus defended himself by observing, "That it was nothing new to Pom- pey to fight with phantoms and shadows of war; for like a dastardly bird, he had been accustomed to prey upon those whom he had not killed, and to tear the poor remains of a dying opposition. Thus he had arrogated to himself the conquest of Sertorius, of Lepidus, and Spartacus, which originally belonged to Metellus, to Catulus, and Crassus. Consequently, he did not wonder that he was come to claim the honor of finishing the wars of Armenia and Pontus, after he had thrust himself into the triumph over the fugitive slaves." In a little time Lucullus departed for Rome; nnd Pompey, having secured the sea from Phoe- nicia to the Bosphorus, marched in quest of Mith- ridates, who had an army of thirty thousand foot and two thousand horse, but duist not stand an engagement. That prince was in possession of a strong and secure post upon a mountain, which he quitted upon Pornpey's approach, because it was destitute of water. Pompey encamped in the same place; and conjecturing, from the nature of the plants and the crevices in the moun- tain, that springs might be found, he ordered a number of wells to be dug, and the camp was in a short time plentifully supplied with water.* He was not a little surprised that this did not occur to Mithridates during the whole time of his encampment there. After this Pompey followed him to his new camp, and drew a line of circumvallation round him. Mithridates stood a siege of forty-five days, after which he found means to steal off with his best troops, having first killed all the sick, and such as could be of no service. Pornpey over- took him near the Euphrates, and encamped over against him; but fearing he might pass the river unperceived, he drew out his troops at mid- night. At that time Mithridates is said to have had a drearn prefigurative of what was to befall him. He thought he was upon the Pontic sea, sailing with a favorable wind, and in sight of the Bosphorus; so that he felicitated his friends in the ship, like a man perfectly safe, and already in harbor. But suddenly he beheld himself in the most destitute condition, swinging upon a piece of wreck. While he was in all the agitation which this dream produced, his friends awaked him, and told him that Pornpey was at hand. He was now under a necessity of fighting for his camp, and his generals drew up the forces with all possible expedition. Pompey seeing them prepared, was loth to risk a battle in the dark. He thought it suffi- cient to surround them, so as to prevent their flight: and what inclined him still more to wait for daylight, was the consideration that his troops were much better than the enemy's. However, the oldest of his officers entreated him to proceed immediately to the attack, and at last prevailed. It was not indeed very dark; for the moon, though near her setting, gave light enough to dis- tinguish objects. But it was a great disadvan- tage to the king's troops, that the moon was so low, and on the backs of the Romans; because she projected their shadows so far before them, that the enemy could form no just estimate of the distances, but thinking them at hand, threw their javelins before they could do the least execution. The Romans, perceiving their mistake, advanc- ed to the charge with all the alarm of voices. The enemy were in such a consternation, that they made not the least stand, and, in their flight, vast numbers were slain. They lost above tea thousand men, and their carnp was taken. As for Mithridates, he broke through the Romans with eight hundred horse, in the beginning of the engagement. That corps, however, did not follow him far before they dispersed, and left him with only three of his people; one of which was his concubine, Hypsicratia, a woman of such a masculine and daring spirit, that the king used to call her Hypsicrates. She then rode a Persian horse, and was dressed in a man's habit, of the fashion of that nation. She complained not in the least of the length of^lhe march; and beside that fatigue, she waited on the king, and took care of his horse, until they reached the castle ot Paulns ^Emilius had done the same thing lonj in th Macedonian war. 416 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Inora,* wnere the king's treasure, and his most valuable movables were deposited. Mithridates took out thence many rich robes, and bestowed them on those who repaired to him after their flight. He furnished each of his friends, too, with a quantity of poison, that none of them, against tlu-ir will, might come alive into the enemy's hands. From Inora, his design was to go to Tigranes, jn Armenia. But Tigranes had given up the cause, and set a price of no less than a hundred talents upon his head. He, therefore, changed his route, and having passed the head of the Eu- phrates, directed his flight through Colchis. In the meantime, Pompey entered Armenia, upon the invitation of young Tigranes, who had revolted from his father, and was gone to meet the Roman general at the river Araxes. This river takes its rise near the source of the Eu- phrates, but bends its course eastward, and emp- ties itself into the Caspian sea. Pompey and young Tigranes, in their march, received the homage of the cities through which they passed. As for Tigranes the father, he had been lately defeated by Lucullus; and now, being informed that Pompey was of a mild and humane disposi- tion, he received a Roman garrison into his capital; and taking his friends and relations with him, went to surrender himself. As he rode up to the intrenchments, two of Pompey's lictors came and ordered him to dismount, and enter on foot; assuring him that no man was ever seen on horseback in a Roman camp. Tigranes obeyed, and even took oft' his sword, and gave it them. As soon as he came before Pompey, he pulled off his diadem, and attempted to lay it at his feet. What was still worse, he was going to prostrate himself, and embrace his knees. But Pompey preventing it, took him by the hand, and placed him on one side of him, and his son on the other. Then addressing himself to the father, he said, 'As to what you lost before, you lost it to Lucul- lus. It was he who took from you Syria, Phoe- nicia, Cilicia, Galatia, and Sophene. But what you kept until my time, I will restore to you, on condition you pay the Romans a fine of six thousand talents for the injury you have done them. Your son I will make king of Sophene." Tigranes thought himself so happy in these terms, and finding that the Romans saluted him krng, that in the joy of his heart he promised every private soldier half a mina, every centurion ten minas, and every tribune a talent. But his eon was little pleased at the determination; and when he was invited to supper, he said, " He had no need of such honors from Pompey; for he could find another Roman." Upon this, he was bound, and reserved in chains for the triumph. Not long after, Phraates, king of Parthia, sent to demand the young prince, as his son-in-law, and to propose that the Euphrates should be the boundary between him and the Roman empire. Pornpey answered, " That Tigranes was certainly nearer to his father than his father-in-law; and as to the boundary, justice should direct it." When he had dispatched this affair, he left Afranius to take care of Armenia, and marched himself to the countries bordering on Mount Caucasus, through which he must necessarily pass in search of Mithridates. The Albanians and Iberians are the principal nations in those parts. The Iberian territories touch upon the * Tt seems from a passage in Strabo (B. xii.) that, instead of Inora, \ve should read Sinoria, for thnt was one of the many fortresses Mithridates had built between the "renter and less Armenia. Moschian mountains and the kingdom of Pontus; the Albanians stretch more to the east, and ex- lend to the Caspian sea. The Albanians at first granted Pompey a passage: but as winter overtook him in their dominions, they took the opportunity of the Saturnalia, which the Ro- mans observe religiously, to assemble their forces to the number of forty thousand men, with a resolution to attack them; and for that purpose passed the Cyrnus.* The Cyrnus rises in the Iberian mountains, and being joined in its course by the Araxes from Armenia, it discharges itself, by twelve mouths, into the Caspian sea: Some say, the Araxes does not run into it,f but has a separate channel, and empties itself near it into the same sea. Pompey suffered them to pass the river, though it was in his power to have hindered it; and when they were all got over, he attacked and routed them, and killed great numbers on the spot. Their king sent ambassadors to beg for mercy; upon which Pompey forgave him the violence he had offered, and entered into alli- ance with him. This done, he marched against the Iberians, who were equally numerous and more warlike, and who were very desirous to signalize their zeal for Mithridates, by repulsing Pompey. The Iberians were never subject to the Medes or Persians: they escaped even the Macedonian yoke, because Alexander was oblig- ed to leave Hyrcania in haste. Pompey, how- ever, defeated his people too, in a great battle, in which he killed no less than nine thousand, and took above ten thousand prisoners. After this, he threw himself into Colchis; and Servilius came and joined him at the mouth of the Phasis, with the fleet appointed to guard the Euxine sea. The pursuit of Mithridates was at- tended with great difficulties: for he had concealed himself among the nations settled about the Bos- phorus and the Pal us Mteotis. Beside, news was brought Pompey that the Albanians hud revolted, and taken up arms again. The desire of revenge determined him to march buck, and chastise them But it was with infinite trouble and danger that he passed the Cyrnus again, the barbarians having fenced it on their side with palisades all along th.9 banks. And when he was over, he had a large country to traverse, which afforded no water. Tiiis last difficulty he provided against, by filling ten thousand bottles; and pursuing his march, he found the enemy drawn up on the banks of the river Abas,t to the number of sixty thousand foot, and twelve thousand horse, but many of them ill- armed, and provided with nothing of the defensiva kind but skins of beasts. They were commanded by the king's brother, named Cosis; who, at the beginning of the battle, singled out Pompey, and, rushing in upon him, struck his javelin into the joints of his breast- plate. Pompey, in return, ran him through with his spear and laid him dead on the spot. It is said that the Amazons came to the assistance of the barbarians from the mountains near the river Thermodon, and fought in this battle. The Ro- mans, among the plunder of the field, did indeed, meet with bucklers in the furrn of a half- moon, and such buskins as the Amazons wore; but there was not the body of a woman found among the * Strabo and Pliny call this river Cyrus, and so Plutarck probably wrote it. t This is Strabo's opinion, in which he is followed by modern geographers. t This river takes its rise in the monntnms of Albania and falls into the Caspian sea. Ptolemy P M P E Y . 417 oead. They inhabit that part of Mount Caucasus which stretches toward the Hyrcanian sea, and are not next neighbors to the Albanian*;* for Gela; and Leges lie between; hut they meet that people, and spend two months with them every year on the banks of the Thermodon: after which, they retire to their own country, whore they live without the company of men. After this action, Poinpey designed to make his way to the Caspian sea. and march by its coasts into Hyrcania; but he found the number of ven- omous serpents so troublesome, that he was forced to return, when three days' inarch more would have carried him as far as lie proposed. The next 'route he took was into Armenia the Less, where lie gave audience to ambassadors from the kings of the Eiymaeausf and Medes, and dis- missed them with letters expressive of his regard. Meantime, tiie king of Parttiia had entered Gor- dyene. -and 1 was cioing infinite damage to the subjects of Tigranes. Against him Pompey sent Afranius, who put him to the rout, and pursued him as far as the province of Arbelis. Among all the concubines of Mithridates that were brought before Pompey, he touched not one, but sent them to their parents or husbands; for most of them were either daughters or wives of the great officers and principal persons of the king- dom.- But Stratonice, who was the first favorite, and had the care of a fort where the best part of the king's treasure was lodged, was the daughter of a poor old musician. She sung one evening to Mithridates at an entertainment, and lie was so much pleased with her that he took her to his bed that night, and sent the old man home in no very good humor, because he had taken his daughter without condescending to speak one kind word to him. But when he waked next morning, he saw tables covered with vessels of gold and silver, a great retinue of eunuchs and pages, who offered him the choice of rich robes, and before his gate a horse with such magnificent furniture as is pro- vided for those who are called the king's friends. All this he thought nothing but an insult and bur- lesque upon him, and therefore prepared for flight; but the servants slopped him, and assured him that the king had given him the house of a rich nobleman lately deceased, and that what he saw was only the first fruits a small earnest of the fortune he intended him. At last he suffered him- self to be persuaded that the scene was not vision- ary; he put on the purple, and mounted the horse, and, as he rode through the city, cried out, "All this is mine." The inhabitants, of course, laughed at him; and he told them, " They should not be surprised at this behavior of his, but rather won- der that he did not throw stones at them." From such a glorious source sprang Stralonice. She surrendered to Pompey the castle, and made him many magnilicent presents; however, he took nothing but what might be an ornament to the solemnities of religion, and add luster to his triumph. The rest he desired she would keep for iier own enjoyment. In like manner, when the king of Iberia sent him a bedstead, a table, and a throne, all of massy gold, and begged of him to accept them as a mark of his regard, he bade the * The Albnninn forces, according to Stral>o, were numer- ous, but ill-disciplined. Their otiensive weapons were darts and arrows, and their defensive armor was made of the skins of beasts. t Strabo (Lit), xvi.) places the Elymajans in that, part of Assyria which borders upon Media, and mentions three pro- vinces belonging to them, Gabiane, Messabatice, and (Jor- biane. He adds, that thev were powerful enough to refuse submission to the kin" of Parthia. 27 quaestors apply them to the purposes of the public revenue. In the castle of Caenon he found the private papers of Mithridates ; and he read them with some pleasure, because they discovered that prince's real chacacter. From these memoirs it appeared, that he had taken off many persons by poison, among whom were his own sons Ariara- thes and Alcoaus of Sardis. His pique against the latter took its rise merely from his having better horses for the race than he. There were also in- terpretations, both of his own dreams and those of his wives; and the lascivious letters which had passed between him and Mouime. Theophanes pretends to say, that there was found among those papers a memorial composed by Rutilins.* exhort- ing Mithridates to massacre all the Romans in. Asia. But most people believe this was a mali- cious invention of Theophanes, to blacken Ruti- lius, whom probably he hated, because he was a perfect contrast to him; or it might be invented by Pompey, whose father was represented in Ru- tilius's Histories as one of the worst of men. From Caenon, Pompey marched to Amisus; where his infatuating ambition put him upon very obnoxious measures. He had censured Lucullus much for disposing of provinces at a time when the war was alive, and for bestowing other con- siderable gifts and honors, which conquerors used to grant after their wars were absolutely termi- nated. And yet when Mithridates was master of the Bosphorus, and had assembled a very respect- able army again, the same Pompey did the very tiling he had censured. As if he had finished the whole, he disposed of governments, and dis- tributed other rewards among his friends. On that occasion many princes and generals, and among them twelve barbarian kings, appeared before him; and to gratify those princes, when he wrote to the king of Parthia, he refused to give him the title of King of kings, by which he was usually addressed. lie was passionately desirous to recover Syria, and passing from thence through Arabia, to pen- etrate to the Red sea, that he might go on con- quering every way to the ocean which surrounds the world. In Africa he was the first whose con- quests extended to the Great Sea; in Spain he stretched the Roman dominions to the Atlantic; and in his late pursuit of the Albanians, ho wanted but little of reaching the Hyrcanian sea. In order, therefore, to take the Red sea, too, into the circle of his wars, he began his march; the rather, because he saw it difficult to hunt out Mithridates with a regular force, and that he was much harder to deal with in his flight than in battle. For this reason, he said, "He would leave him a stronger enemy than the Romans to cope with, which was famine." In pursuance of this intention, he ordered a number of ships to cruise about and prevent any vessels from entering the Bosphorus with provisions; and that death should be the punishment for such as were taken iu the attempt. As he was upon his march with the best part of liis army, he found the bodies of those Romans who fell in the unfortunate battle between Tria- riu.sf and Mithridates, still uninterred. He gava * P. Futilins Rufus was consul in the year of Rome 649. Cicero gives him a great character. He was afterward ban- ished into Asia, and when Sylla recalled him, he refused to return. He wrote a Roman history in Greek, which Aj* piun made great use of. t Triarius was defeated by Mithridates three years be- fore Pompey's march into Syria. He had twenty-three tri- 418 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. them an honorable burial; and the omission of it seems to have contributed not a little to the aver- sion the army had for Lucullus. Proceeding in the execution of his plan, he subdued the Arabians about mount Amanus, by his lieutenant A f rani us, and ctesceuded himself into Syria; which he converted into a Roman province, because it had no lawful king.* He re- duced Judoen, and took its king Aristobulus pris- oner. He founded some cities, and set others free; punishing the tyrants who had enslaved them. But most of his time was spent in admin- istering justice, and in deciding the disputes be- tween cities and princes. Where he could not go himself, he sent his friends; the Armenians and Parthians, for instance, having referred the difference they had about some territory, to his decision, he sent three arbitrators to settle the affair. His reputation as to power was great, and it was equally respectable as to virtue and modera- tion. This was the thing which palliated most of his faults, and those of his ministers. He knew not how to restrain or punish the offenses of those he employed, but he gave so gracious a reception to those who came to complain of them, that they went away not ill-satisfied with all they had suf- fered from their avarice and oppression. His first favorite was Demetrius his enfran- chised slave; a young man, who, in other respects, did not want understanding, but who made an in- solent use of his good fortune. They tell us this story of him. Cato the philosopher, then a young man, but already celebrated for his virtue and greatness of mind, went to see Antioch, when Pompey was not there. According to custom, he traveled on foot, but his friends accompanied him on horseback. When he approached the city, he saw a great number of people before the gates, all in white, and on the way a troop of young men ranged on one side, and of boys on the other. This gave the philosopher pain; for he thought it a compliment intended him, which he did not want. However, he ordered his friends to alight and walk with him. As soon as they were near enough to be spoken with, the master of the cere- monies, with a crown ou his head, and a staff of office iu his hand, came up and asked them, " Where they had left Demetrius, and when he might be expected? " Cato's companions laughed, but Cato said only, "Alas, poor city!" and so passed on. Indeed, others might the better endure the inso- lence of Demetrius, because Pompey bore with it himself. Very often, when Pompey was waiting to receive company, Demetrius seated himself in a disrespectful manner at table, with his cap of liberty pulled over his ears. Before his return to Italy he l*ad purchased the pleasantest villas about Rome, with magnificent apartments for entertain- ing his friends; and some of the most elegant and expensive gardens were known by his name. Yet Pompey himself was satisfied with an indifferent house until the third triumph. Afterward he built that beautiful and celebrated theater in Rome; and as an appendage to it, built himself a house much handsomer than the former, but not osten- tatiously great; for he who came to be master of it after him, at his first entrance was surprised, bones, and a hundred and fifty centurions killed in that battle; and his carnp was taken. Pompey took the temple of Jerusalem, killin-r no less than tsvelve thousand Jews in the action. He entered the temple contrary to their law, but had the moderation not to touch any of the holy utensils, or the treasure belongim; to it. Aristobulus presented him with a golden vine, "vafued Bt five hnn Ired talents, which he afterward consecrated in the temple af JnpiterCapitoIinu*. and asked, " Where was the room in which Pom- pey the Great used to sup? " Such is the account we have of these matters. The king of Arabia Petrsea had hitherto con- sidered the Romans in no formidable light, but he was really afraid of Pompey, and sent letters to acquaint him that he was ready to obey his com- mands. Pompey, to try the sincerity of his pro- fessions, marched against Petrosa. Many blamed this expedition, looking upon it as no better than a pretext to be excused pursuing Milhridates, against whom they would have had him turn, as against the ancient enemy of Rome; and an ene- my who, according to all accounts, had so far re- covered his strength as to propose marching through Scythia and Pceonia into Italy. On the other hand, Pornpey was of opinion that it was much easier to ruin him when at the head of an army, than to take him in his flight, and therefore would not amuse himself with a fruitless pursuit, but rather chose to wait for a new emergency, and, in the meantime, to turn his arms to another quarter. Fortune soon resolved the doubt. He had ad- vanced near Petrcea, and encamped for that day, and was taking some exercise on horseback with- out the trenches, when messengers arrived from Pontus; and it was plain they brought good news, because the points of their spears were crowned with laurel. The soldiers seeing this, gathered about Pompey, who was inclined to finish his ex- ercise before he opened the packet; but they were so earnest in their entreaties, that they prevailed upon him to alight and take it. He entered the camp with it in his hand; and as there was no tribunal ready, and the soldiers were too impatient to raise one of turf, which was the common me- thod, they piled a number of pack-saddles ona upon another, upon which Pornpey mounted, and gave them this information: " Mithridates is dead. He killed himself upon the revolt of his son Phar- naces. And Pharnaces lias seized all that belonged to his father; which he declares he has done for himself and the Romans." At this news the army, as might be expected, gave a loose to their joy, which they expressed in sacrifices to the gods, and in reciprocal entertain- ments, as if ten thousand of their enemies had been slain in Mithridates. Pompey having thus brought the campaign and the whole war to a con- clusion so happy, and so far beyond his hopes, immediately quitted Arabia, traversed the prov- inces between that and Galatia with great rapidity, and soon arrived at Amisus. There he found iany presents from Pharnaces. and several corpses of the royal family, among which was that of Mithridates. The face of that prince could not be easily known, because the embalmers had not taken out the brain, and by the corruption of that, the features were disfigured. Yet some that were curious to examine it distinguished it by the soars. As for Pompey, he would not see the body, but to propitiate the avenging deity,* sent it to Sinope. However, he looked upon and admired the mag- nificence of his habit, and the size and beauty of his arms. The scabbard of the sword, which cost four hundred talents, was stolen by one Publius, who sold it to Ariarathes. And Cains, the foster- brother of Mithridates, took the diadem, which was of most excellent workmanship, and gave it privately to Faustus, the son of Sylla, who had begged it of him. This escaped the knowledge of Pompey, but Pharnaces, discovering it after- ward, punished the persons guilty of the theft. Pompey having thoroughly settled the affairs Nsrae.U. P M P E Y . 419 of Asia, proceeded in his return to Rome with more pomp and solemnity. When he arrived at Mitylene, he declared it a free city, for the sake of Theophanes, who was born there. He was present at the anniversary exercises of the poets, whose sole subject that year was the actions of Pompey. And he was so much pleased with their theater, that lie took a plan of it, with a design to build one like it at Rome, but greater and more noble. When he came to Rhodes, he attended the declamations of all the Sophists, and presented each of them with a talent. Posidonius committed the discourse to writing, which he made before him against the position of Hermagoras, another professor of rhetoric concerning Invention in general.* He behaved with equal munificence to the philosophers at Athens, and gave the people fifty talents for the repair of their city. He hoped to return to Italy the greatest and happiest of men, and that his family would meet his affection with equal ardor. But the deity, whose care is always to mix some portion of evil with the highest and most splendid favors of for- tune, had been long preparing him a sad welcome in his house. Mucia, f in his absence, had dis- honored his bed. While he was at a distance, he disregarded the report, but upon his approach to Italy, and a more mature examination into the affair, he sent her a divorce without assigning his reasons either then or afterward. The true reason is to be found in Cicero's epistles. People talked variously at Rome concerning Pompey's intentions. Many disturbed themselves at the thought that lie would march with his army immediately to Rome, and make himself sole and absolute master there. Crassus took his children and money, and withdrew: whether it was that he had some real apprehensions, or rather that he chose to countenance the calumny, and add force to the Kting of envy; the latter seems the more probable. But Pompey had no sooner set foot in Italy, than he called an assembly of his soldiers, and, after a kind and suitable address, ordered them to disperse Ui their respective cities, and at- tend to their own alFairs until his triumph, on which occasion they were to repair to him again. As soon as it was known that his troops were disbanded, an astonishing change appeared in the face of things. The cities seeing Pompey the Great unurm>-d. tmd attended by a few friends, as if he was returning only from a common tour, poured out their inhabitants after him, who con- ducted him to Rome with the sincerest pleasure, and with a much greater force than that which he had dismissed; so that there would have been no need of the army, if he had formed any designs against the state.* As the law di 1 not permit him to enter the city before his triumph, he desired the senate to defer the election of consuls on his account, that he might by his presence support the interests of * Hermagoras was for reducing invention under two gen- eral heads, the reason of the process, and t.he state of the question; which limitation Cicero disapproved as much as hi* master Posidonius. Vide Cicero, de Invent. Rhetor. Lit., i. This Posidonius who was of Apamea, is not to be con- founded with Posidonius of Alexandria, the disciple of Keno. t Mucia was sister to Metellus Celer, and to Metellus Nepos. She was debauched by Caesar; for which reason, when Pompey married Cxsar's daughter; all the world blamed him for turning off a wife by whom he had fhree children, to espouse the daughter of a man whom he had often, with a sigh, called his ^'Eiristhus. Mucia's disloyalty must have been very public, since Cicero, in one of his let- ters to Atticns, says, the divorce of Mucia meets with gen- fiil approbation. Lib. i. ep. 12. Piso. But Cato opposed it, and the motion mis- carried. Pompey, admiring the liberty and firm- ness with which Cato maintained the rights and customs of his country, at a time when no other man would appear so openly for them, determined to gain him if possible; and as Cato had two nieces, he offered to marry the one, and asked the other for his son. Cato, however, suspected the bait, and looked upon the proposed alliance as a means intended to corrupt his integrity. He therefore refused it, to the great regret of his wife and sister, who could not but be displeased at his rejecting such advances from Pompey the Great. Meantime, Pompey being desirous to get the con- sulship from Afranius, distributed money for that purpose among the tribes, and the voters went to receive it in Pompey's o*vn gardens. The thing was so public that Pompey was much censured for making that office venal, which he had obtained by his great actions, and opening a way to the highest honor in the state to those who had mo- ney, but wanted merit. Cato then observed to the ladies of his family, that they must all have shared in this disgrace, if they had accepted Pom- pey's alliance; upon which they acknowledged he was a better judge than they of honor and pro- priety. The triumph was so great, that though it was divided into two days, the time was far from being sufficient for displaying what was prepared to be carried in procession; there remained still enough to adorn another triumph. At the head of the show appeared the titles of the conquered nations; Pontus, Armenia, Cappadocia, Paphlagonia, Me- dia, Colchis, the Iberians, the Albanians, Syria, Cilicia, Mesopotamia, Phoenicia, Palestine, Judea, Arabia, the pirates subdued both by sea and land. In these countries, it was mentioned that there were not less than a thousand castles, and near nine hundred cities taken, eight hundred galleys taken from the pirates, and thirty-nine desolate cities re peopled. On the face of the tablets it appeared beside, that whereas the revenues of the Roman empire before these conquests amounted but to fifty millions of drachmas, by the new ac- quisitions they were advanced to eighty-five mil- lions: and that Pompey had brought into the public treasury, in money, and in gold and silver vessels, to the value of twenty thousand talents, beside what he had distributed among the soldiers, ot whom he that received least had fifteen hundred drachmas to his share. The captives who walked in the procession (not to mention the chiefs of the pirates) were the son of Tigranes, king of Arme- nia, together with his wife and daughter; Zosirna, the wife of Tigranes himself; Aristobulus, king of Judea; the sister of Mithridates, with her five sons; and some Scythian women. The hostages of the Albanians and Iberians, and of the king of Commagene also appeared in the train: and as many trophies were exhibited as Pompey had gained victories, either in person or by his lieuten- ants, the number of which was not small. Those who desire to make the parallel between him and Alexander agree in all respects, tell us he was at this time not quite thirty-four, whereas, in fact, he was entering upon his fortieth year.* Happy it had been for him, if he had ended his days while he was blessed with Alexander's good fortune! Throughout the rest of his life, every instance of success brought its proportion of envy, and every miscarriage was irretrievable. For the * It should he forty-sixth year. Pompey was born in the beginning of the month of August, in the ye:ir of Rome 047, and his triumph was in the same month, in the year of Rome 692. 420 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. authority which he had gained by his merit he i but their former union and connection which gave employed for others in H way not very honorable; the constitution the first and greatest blow." and his reputation consequently sinking, as they grew in strength, he was insensibly ruined by the weight of his own power. As it happens in a To this union Caesar owed his consulship. And he was no sooner appointed than he begun to make his court to the indigent part of the people, siege, every strong work that is taken adds to the by proposing laws for sending out colonies, and besieger's force.; so Caasar, when raised by the in- " flue nee of Pornpey, turned that power, which enabled him to trample upon his country, upon Pompey himself. It happened in this manner: Lucullus, who had been treated so unworthily by Pompey in Asia, upon his return to Rome met with the most honorable reception from the senate; and they gave him still greater marks of their es- teem after the arrival of Pompey; endeavoring to awake his ambition, and prevail with him to at- adini tempt the lead in the administration. But his spirit and active powers were by this time on the decline; he had given himself up to the pleasures of ease and the enjoyments of wealth. However, he bore up against Pompey with some vigor at first, and got his acts confirmed which his adver- sary had annulled; having a majority in the senate through the assistance of Cato. Pompey, thus worsted in the senate, had re- course to the tribunes of the people and to the young plebeians. Clodius, the most daring and profligate of them all, received him with open arms, but at the same time .subjected him to all the humors of the populace. He made him dangle after him in the forum in a manner far beneath his dignity, and insisted upon his supporting every bill that he proposed, and every speech that he made, to flatter and ingratiate himself with the people. And, as if the connection with him had been an honor instead of a disgrace, he demanded still higher wages; that Pompey should give up Cicero, who had ever been his fast friend, and of the greatest use to him in the administration. And these wages he obtained. For when Cicero came to be in danger, and requested Pornpey's assist- ance, he refused to see him, and shutting his gates against those that came to intercede for him, went out at a back door. Cicero, therefore, dreading the issue of the trial, departed privately from Rome. At this time Caasar, returning from his province,* undertook an affair, which rendered him very popular at present, and in its consequences gained him power, but proved a great prejudice to Pom- pey and to the whole commonwealth. He was then soliciting his first consulship, and Crassus and Pornpey being at variance, he perceived that if he should join the one, the other would be his enemy of course; he therefore set himself to re- concile them. A thing which seemed honorable in itself, and calculated for the public good; but the intention was insidious, though deep laid and covered with the most refined policy. For while the power of the state was divided, it kept it in an equilibrium, as the burden of a ship properly dis- tributed, keeps it from inclining to one side more than another, but when the power came to be all collected into one part, having nothing to coun- terbalance it, it overset and destroyed the com- monwealth. Hence it was, that when some were observing that the constitution was ruined by the difference which happened afterward between Caesar anJ Pompey, Cato said, " You are under a great mistake: it was not their late disagreement, * It was not at the time of Cicero's poing into exile, that Caesar returned from his province in Spain, which lie had governed with the title of praetor, but two years before. C!-:ir returned in the year of Rome GU3, and' Cicero quit- ted Rome in the year 605. for the distribution of lands; by which he descend- ed from the dignity of a consul, and in some sort took upon him the office of a tribune. His col- eague Bibulus opposed him, and Cato prepared to support Bibulus iu the most strenuous manner; when Ceesur placed Pompey by him upon the tri- bunal, and asked him, before the whole assembly, Whether lie approved his laws?" and upon his answering in the affirmative, he put this farther question, "Then if any one shall with violence oppose the:--e laws, will you come to the assist- ance of the people?" Pompey answered, "1 will certainly come; and against those that threaten to take the sword, I will bring both sword and buckler." Pompey until that day had never said anything so* obnoxious; and his i'riends could only say, by way of apology, that it was an expression which had escaped him. But it appeared by the sub- sequent events, that he was then entirely at Caesar's devotion. For within a few days, to the surprise of all the world, he married Julia, Caesar's daughter, who had been promised to Caepio, and was upon the point of being married to him. To appease the resentment of Ccepio, he gave him his own daughter, who had been before contracted to Faustus, the son of Sylla, and Caesar married Cal- purnia, the daughter of Piso. Pompey then filled the city with soldiers, and carried everything with open force. Upon Bibu- lus the consul's making his appearance in the forum together with Lucullus and Cato, the sol- diers suddenly fell upon him, and broke \\isfasces. Nay, one of them had the impudence to empty a basket of dung upon the head of Bibulus; and two tribunes of the people, who accompanied him, were wounded. The forum thus cleared of ail opposition, the law passed for the division of lands. The people, caught by this bait, became tame and tractable in all respects, and without questioning the expediency of any of their mea- sures, silently gave their suffrages to whatever was proposed. The acts of Pompey, which Lucullus had contested, were confirmed; and the two Gauls on this and the other side the Alps and Illyria, were allotted to Caesar for five years, with four complete legions. At the same time Piso, Caesar's father-in-law, and Gabinius, one of the most aban- doned flatterers of Pompey, were pitched upon for consuls for the ensuing year. Bibulus, finding matters thus carried, shut him- self up in his house, and for the eight following months remained inattentive to the functions of his office;* contenting himself with publishing manifestos full of bitter invectives against Pompey and Caesar. Cato, on this occasion, as if inspired with aspirit of prophesy, announced in full senate the calamities which would befall the common- wealth and Pompey himself. Lucullus, for his part, gave up all thoughts of state affairs, and be- took himself to repose, as if age had disqualified him for the concerns of government. Upon which Pompey observed, " That it was more unseason- able for an old man to give himself up to luxury than to bear a public employment." Yet, not- withstanding thi.s observation, he soon suffered * Hence rhe wits of Rome, instead of saying, such a thing happened in the consulship ol'Ca-$;ir nnd Bibulus, said it happened in the i-onsuUhip of Julius and Caesar. POMPE Y. 421 himself to be effeminated by the love of a young woman; lie gave up his time to her; he spent the day with her in his villas and gardens, to the entire neglect of public affairs ; insomuch that Clodius the tribune began to despise him, and to engage in the boldest designs against him. For after he had banished Cicero, and sent Cato to Cyprus, under pretense of giving him the com- mand in that island; when Caesar was gone upon his expedition into Gaul, and the tribune found the people, entirely devoted to him, because he flattered their inclinations in all the measures he took, he attempted to annul some of Pornpey's ordinances; he took his prisoner Tigranes from hirn, kept him in his own custody, and impeached some of his friends, in order to try in them the strength of Pompey's interest. At last, when Pompey appeared against one of these prosecu- tions, Clodius, having a crew of profligate and in- solent wretches about him, ascended an eminence, and put the following questions, " Who is the licentious lord of Rome? Who is the man that seeks for a man?* Who scratches his head with one finger?"f And his creatures, like a chorus instructed in their part, upon his shaking his gown, answered aloud to every question, Pompey.^ These things gave Pompey uneasiness, because it was a new thing to him to be spoken ill of, and he was entirely unexperienced in that sort of war. That which afflicted him most, was his perceiving that the senate were pleased to see him the object of reproach, and punished for his desertion of Cicero. But when parties ran so high that they came to blows in the forum, and several were wounded on both sides, and one of the servants of Clodius was observed to creep in among the crowd, toward Pompey, witji a drawn sword in his hand, he was furnished with an excuse for not attending the public assemblies. Beside, he was really afraid to stand the impudence of Clodins, and all the torrent of abuse that might be expect- ed from him, and therefore made his appearance no more during his tribuneship, but consulted in private with his friends how to disarm the anger of the senate and the valuable part of the citizens. Culleo advised him to repudiate Julia, and to ex- change the friendship of Cresar for that of the senate; but he would not hearken to the proposal. Others proposed that he should recall Cicero, who was not only an avowed enemy to Clodius, but the favorite to the senate; and he agreed to that overture. Accordingly, with a strong body of his retainers, he conducted Cicero's brother into the forum, who was to apply to the people in his behalf, and after a scuffle, in which several were wounded, and some slain, he overpowered Clo- dius, and obtained a decree for the restoration of Cicero. Immediately upon his return, the orator reconciled the Henate to Pompey, and by effectually recommending the law which was to intrust him with the care of supplying Rome with corn, he made Pompey once more master of the Roman * T<c *v*|8 T ivffi. ZHVUV aLvfyt was a proverbial expression brought from Athens to Rome. It was taken originally from ^Esop's seeking an honest man with a l;ni!ern at noonday; and, by degrees, it came to signify the loss Of manhood, or the manly character, which loss Pompey was allowed to have sustained in the emhraces of Julia. t Uno A-calfiere di^ito was likewise a proverbial expres- sion lor a Roman petit niuttrc. t Plutarch does not here keep exactly to the order of time. This happened in the year of Koine (577, as appears from Dio (Book xxxix.), that is, two years after what he is going U) mentiut; concerning that tribune's slave being taken with A s word. The law also gnre Pompey proconsular authority for five years, both in and out 'if Italy. Uio, lib. xxxix. empire, both by sea and land. For by this law the ports, the markets, the disposal of provisions, iu a word, the whole business of the merchant and the husbandman, were brought under ius jurisdiction. Clodius, on the other hand, alleged, "That thft law was not made on account of the real scarcity of provisions, but that an artificial scarcity was I caused for the sake of procuring the law, and that | Pompey, by a new commission, might bring his | power to life again, which was sunk, as it were, I in a deliquium." Others say, it was the contri- ' vance of the consul Spinther, to procure Pompey a superior employment, that he might himself bo sent to re-estabiLsh Ptolemy in his kingdom * However, the tribune Canidius brought him a bill, the purport of which was, that Pompey should be sent without an army, and with only two lictors, to reconcile the Alexandrians to their king. Pom- pey did not appear displeased at the bill; but the senate threw it out, under the honorable pretense of not hazarding his person. Nevertheless, papers were found scattered in the forum and before the senate-house, importing that Ptolemy himself de- sired that Pompey might be employed to act for him instead of Pinther. Timagenes pretends, that Ptolemy left Egypt without any necessity, at the persuasion of Theophanes, who was desirous to give Pompey new occasions to enrich himself, and the honor of new commands. But the baseness of Theophanes does not so much support this story, as the disposition of Pompey discredits it; for there was nothing so mean, and illiberal in his ambition. The whole care of providing and importing corn being committed to Pompey, he sent his deputies and agents into various parts, and went in person into JSicily, Sardinia, and Africa, where he collected great quantities. When he was upon the point of re-embarking, a violent wind sprang up, and the mariners made a difficulty of putting to sea; but he was the first to go on board, and he ordered them to weigh anchor, with these decisive words, *' It is necessary to go; is it not necessary to live?" His success'was answerable to his spirit and intrepidity. He filled the markets with corn, and covered the sea with his ships; insomuch that the overplus afforded a supply to foreigners, and from Rome, as from u fountain, plenty flowed over the world. In the meantime the wars in Gaul lifted Caesar to the first sphere of greatness. The scene of action was at a great distance from Rome, and he seemed to be wholly engaged with the Belgce, tltt Suevi and the Britons; but his genius all the whil was privately at work among the people of Rome, and he was undermining Pompey in his most essential interests. His war with the barbarians was not his principal object. He exercised his army, indeed, in those expeditions, as he would have done his own body, in hunting and other diversions of the field; by which he prepared them for higher conflicts, and rendered them not only formidable but invincible. The gold and silver, and other rich spoils which he took from the enemy in great abundance, he sent to Rome; and by distributing them freely among the sediles, praetors, consuls, and their wives, he gained a great party. Consequently when he passed the Alps and wintered at Lucca, among the crowd of men and women, who hasten- ed to pay their respects to him, there were two * Ptolemy Auletes, the son of Ptolemy Lathyrus, hated by his subjects, and forced to fly, applied to the consul Spintlier, who was to have the province of Cilicia, to r*. establish him in his kingdom. Dio, ulti supra. 422 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. hundred senators, Pompey ^id Crassus of the number; and there were no fewer than a hundred and twenty proconsuls and praetors, whose fasces were to be seen at the gates of Caesar. He made it his business in general to give them hopes of great things, and his money was at their devotion; but he entered into a treaty with Crassus and Pompey, by which it was agreed that they should apply for the consulship, and that Caesar should assist them, by sending a great number of his sol- diers to vot* at the election. As soon as they were chosen, they were to share the provinces, and take the command of armies, according to their pleasure, only confirming Caesar in the pos- session of what he had, for five years more. As soon as this treaty got air, the principal per- sons in Rome were highly offended at it. Mar- cellinus, then consul, pi-anted himself amidst the people, and asked Pompey and Crassus, " Whether they intended to stand for the consulship?" Pompey spoke fiivt, and said,* "Perhaps he might, perhaps he might not." Crassus answered with more moderation, "He should do what might appear most expedient for the common- wealth." As Marcellinus continued the discourse against Pompey, and seemed to bear hard upon him, Pompey said, "Where is the honor of that man, who has neither gratitude nor respect for him who made him an orator, who rescued him from want, and raised him to affluence?" Others declined soliciting the consulship, bM Lucius Domitius was persuaded and encouraged hy Cato not to give it 'up. "For the dispute," lie told him, " was not for the consulship, but in defense of liberty, against tyrants." Pompey and his adherents saw the vigor with which Cato acled, and that all the senate was on his side. Consequently they were afraid that, so supported, he might bring over the uncorrupted part of the S?ople. They resolved, therefore, not to suffer omitius to enter the forum, and sent a party of men well armed: who killed Melitus, the torch- bearer, and put the rest to flight. Cato retired the last, and not until after he had received a wound in his right elbow in defending Domitius. Thus they obtained the consulship by violence, and the rest of their measures were not conducted with more moderation. For, in the first place, when the people were going to choose Cato prae- tor, at the instant their suffrages were to be taken, Pompey dismissed the assembly, pretending he had seen an inauspicious flight of birds.f After- ward the tribes, corrupted with money, declared Antius and Vatinius praetors. Then, in pursu- ance of their agreement with Cresar, they put Trebonius, one of the tribunes, on proposing a decree, by which the government of the Gauls was continued for five years more to Cresar; Syria, and the command against the Parthians, were given to Crassus; and Pompey was to have ail Africa, and both the Spains, with four legions, two of which he lent to Caesar, at his request, for the war in Gaul. Crassus, upon the expiration of his consulship, repaired to his province. Pompey, remaining at Rome, opened his theater; and, to make the dedi- * Dio makes him return an answer more suitable to his character "It is not on account of the virtuous and the good that I desire any share in the magistracy, hut that 1 may he ahle to restrain the ill-disposed and the seditious." t This was making religion an engine of state, and it often proved a very convenient one for the purposes of am- bition. Clodius, though otherwise one of the vilest tribunes (hat ever existed, was very right in attempting to put a stop to that means of dismissing an assembly. He preferred a bill, that no magistrate sh >uld make any observations in the ueiveaj while the people were assembled. cation more magnificent, exhibited a variety of gymnastic games, entertainments of music, and battles with wild beasts, in which were killed five hundred lions; but the battle of elephants afforded the most astonishing spectacle.* These things gained him the love and admiration of the public; but he Incurred their displeasure again, by leaving his provinces and armies entirely to his friends and lieutenants, and roving about Italy with his wife from one villa to another. Whether it was his passion for her, or hers for him, that kept him so much with her, is uncertain. For the latter has been supposed to be the case, and nothing was more talked of than the fondness of that young woman for her husband, though at that age hia person could hardly be any great object of desire. But the charm of his fidelity was the cause, to- gether with his conversation, which, notwith- standing his natural gravity, was particularly agreeable to the women, if we may allow tho courtesan Flora to be a sufficient evidence. This strong attachment of Julia appeared on occasion of a* election of rediles. The people came to blows, and some were killed so near Pompey that he was covered with blood, and forced to change his clothes. There was a great crowd and tumult about his door, when his servants went home with the bloody robe; and Julia, who was with child, happening to see it, fainted away and was with difficulty recovered. Hovrever, such was her ter- ror and the agitation of her spirits, that she mis- carried. After this, those who complained most of Pompey's connection with Caesar could not find fault with his love of Julia-. She was preg- nant afterward, and brought him a daughter, but unfortunately died in childbed; nor did the child long survive her. Pompey was preparing to bury her near a seat of his at Alba, but the people seized the corpse, and interred it in the Campus Martius. This th^y did more out of regard to the young woman, than either to Pompey or Ca&sar; yet in the honors they did her remains, their attachment to Caesar, though at a distance, had a greater share, than any respect for Pompey, who was on the spot. Immediately after Jul 5 a> death, the people of Rome were in great agitation, and there was no- thing in their speeches and actions which did not tend to a rupture. The alliance, which rather covered than restrained the ambil'on of the two great competitors for power, was now no more. To add to the misfortune, news was brought soon after that Crassus was slain by the Partisans; and in him another great obstacle to a civil war wan removed. Out of fear of him, they h-u! both kept some measures with each other. But vl.'tn fortune had carried off the champion who ccu*d take up the conqueror, we may say with the comic poet, High spirit of enterprise Elates each chief: they oil their brawny limbs, And dip their hands in dust. So little able is fortune to fill the capacities of the human mind; when such a weight, of power and extent of command, could not satisfy the am- bition of two men. They had heard and read thai the gods had divided the universe into three shares,f and each was content with that which * Dio says, the elephants fought with armed men. There were' no less than eighteen of them; and he adds, that some of them seemed to appeal, with piteous cijes, to the people; who, in compassion, saved their lives. If w may believe him, an oath had been taken before they left Africa, that no injury should be done them. t Plutarch alludes here to a passage in the fifteenth book of the Iliad, where .Neptune says to iris, POMPEY. 423 fell to his lot, and yet these men could not think the Roman empire sufficient for two of them. Yet Pompey, in an address to the people at that time, told them, " He had received every commis- sion they had honored him with sooner than he expected himself; and laid it down sooner than was expected by the world." And, indeed, the dismission of his troops always bore witness to the truth of that assertion. But ziow, being per- suaded that Ca)sar would not disband his army, he endeavored to fortify himself against him by great employments at home; and this without attempting any other innovation. For he would not appear to distrust him; on the contrary, he rather affected to despise him. However, when lie saw the great offices of state not disposed of agreeably to his desire, but that the people were influenced, and his adversaries preferred for money, he thought it would best serve his cause to suffer anarchy to prevail. In consequence of tiie reigning disorders, a dictator was much talked i of. Lucilius, one of the tribunes, was the first who ventured to propose it in form to the people, and he exhorted them to choose Pompey dictatbr. Cato opposed it so effectually that the tribune was in danger of being deposed. Many of Pompey's friends then stood up In defense of the purity of his intentions, and declared, he neither asked nor wished for the dictatorship. Cato, upon this paid the highest compliments to Pompey, and entreated him to assist in the support of order and of the constitution. Pompey could not but accede to such a proposal, and Domitius and Messala were elected consuls.* The same anarchy and confusion afterward took place again, and numbers began to talk more boldly of setting up a dictator. Cato, now fear- ing he should be overborne, was of opinion that it were better to give Pompey some office whose authority was limited by law, than to intrust him with absolute power. Bibulus, though Pompey's declared enemy, moved in full senate, that he should be appointed sole consul. "For, by that means," said he, " the commonwealth will either recover from her disorder, or, if she must serve, will serve a man of the greatest merit." The whole house was surprised at the motion; and when Cato rose up, it was expected he would op- pose it. A profound silence ensued, and he said, v He should never have been the first to propose such an expedient, but as it was proposed by an- other, lie thought it advisable to embrace it; for he thought any kind of government better than anarchy, and knew no man fitter to rule than Pompey, in a time of so much trouble." The senate came into his opinion, and a decree was issued, that Pompey should be appointed sole consul, and that if lie should have need of a col- league, he might choose one himself, provided it were not before the expiration of two months. Pompey being declared sole consul by the Inter- rex, Sulpitius made his compliments to Cato, "AssignM by lot, our triple rule we know; Infernal Pluto sways the shades below; O'er the wide clcnils, and o'er the starry plain, Ethereal Jove extends his high domain: My court beneath 'he h vry waves I keep, And hush the roa.-u.gs of the sacred deep. Pope. * In the year of Rome 700. Such corruption now pre- vailed among the Romans, that candidates for the curule offices brought their money openly to the place of election, where they distribute! it, without blushing, among the heads of factions; and those who received it, employed force and violence in favor of those persons who paid them; so that cf>rce any oilice was disposed of, but what had been disputed with the sword, and oust the lives ol many citi- zens. acknowledged himself much indebted to his sup- port, and desired his assistance and advice in the cabinet, as to the measures to be pursued in his administration. Cato made answer, " That Pom- pey was not under the least obligation to him; for what he had said was not out of regard to him, but to his country. If you apply to me," continued he, "I shall give you my advice in private; if not, I shall inform you of rny senti- ments in public." Such was Cato, and the same on all occasions. Pompey then went into the city, and married Cornelia, the daughter of Metellus* Scipio.* She was not a virgin, but a widow, having been mar- ried, when very young, to Publius the son of Crassus, who was lately killed in the Carthian expedition. This woman had many charms be- side her beauty. She was well versed in polite literature: she played upon the lyre, and under- stood geometry; and she had made considerable improvements by the precepts of philosophy. What is more, she had nothing of that petulance and affectation which studies are apt to produce in women of her age. And her father's family and reputation were unexceptionable. Many, however, were displeased with this match, on account of the disproportion of years; they thought Cornelia would have been more suitable to his son than to him. Those that were capable of deeper reflection thought the concerns of the commonwealth neglected, which in a dis- tressful case had chosen him for its physician, and confided in him alone. It grieved them to see him crowned with garlands, and offering sacrifice amidst the festivities of marriage, when he ought to have considered his consulship as a public cala- mity, since it would never have been given hirn in a manner so contrary to the laws, had his country been in a' prosperous situation. His first step was to bring those io account who gained offices and employments by bribery and corruption, and he made laws by which the pro- ceedings in their trials were to be regulated. In other respects he behaved with great dignity and honor; and restored security, order, and tran- quillity to the courts of judicature, by presiding there in person with a band of soldiers. But when Scipio, his father-in-law, came to be im- peached, he sent for the three hundred and sixty judges to his house, and desired their assistance. The accuser, seeing Scipio conducted out of the forum to his house, by the judges themselves, dropped the prosecution. This again exposed Pompey to censure; but he was censured still more, when after having made a law against en- corniurns on persons accused, he broke it himself, by appearing for Plancus, and attempting to em- bellish his character. Cato, who happened to be one of the judges, stopped his ears; declaring, " It was not right for him to hear such embellish- ments, contrary to law." Cato, therefore, was objected to and set aside before sentence was p:issed. Plancus, however, was condemned by the other judges, to the great confusion of Pom- P e y-t A few days after, Hypsseus, a man of consu- lar dignity, being under a criminal prosecution, watched Pompey going from the bath to supper, and embraced his knees in the most suppliant manner. But Pompey passed with disdain, and all the answer he gave him was, " That his im- * The son of Scipio Nasica, but adopted into the famil/ of the Metelli. t Cicero, who managed the impeachment, was much de- lighted with the success of his eloquence; as appears trotft hi* epistle to Marius, lib. vii. ep. 2. 424 PLUTARCH' S LIVES portunities served only to spoil his supper." This partial and unequal behavior was justly the ob- ject of reproach. But all the rest of his conduct merited prai.se, and he had the happiness to re- establish good order in the commonwealth. He took his father-in-law for his colleague the re- maining five months. His governments were continued to him for four years more, and he was allowed a thousand talents a year for the subsis- tence and pay of his troops. Caesar's friends laid hold on this occasion to repre- sent, that some consideration should be had of him too, and his many great and laborious services for his country. They said, he certainly deserved either another consulship, or to have the term of his commission prolonged; that he might keep the command in the provinces he had conquered, and enjoy, undisturbed, the honors he had won, and that no successor might rob him of the fruit of his labors or the glory of his actions. A dis- pute arising upon the affair, Pornpey, as if in- clined to fejice against the odium to which Csesar might be exposed by this demand, said, he had letters from Caesar, in which he declared himself willing to accept a successor, and to give up the command in Gaul; only he thought it reasonable that he should be permitted, though absent, to stand for the consulship.* Cato opposed this with all his force, and insisted, " That Ceesar should lay down his arms, and return as a private man, if he had any favor to ask of his country." And as Pompey did not labor the point, but easily acquiesced, it was suspected that he had no real friendship for Caesar. This appeared more clearly, when he sent for the two legions which he had lent him, under pretense of wanting them for the Parthian war. Ceesar, though he well knew for what purpose the legions were demanded, sent them home laden with rich presents. After this, Pompey had a dangerous illness at Naples, from which, however, he recovered. Praxagoras then advised the Neapolitans to offer sacrifices to the gods, in gratitude for his reco- very. The neighboring cities followed their ex- ample; and the humor spreading itself over Italy, there was not a town or village which did not solemnize the occasion with festivals. No place could afford room for the crowds that came in from all quarters to meet him; the high roads, the villages, the ports, were filled with sacrifices and entertainments. Many received him with garlands on their heads and torches in their hands, and, as they conducted him on his way, strewed it with flowers. His returning with such pomp afforded a glorious spectacle; but it is said to have been one of the principal causes of the civil war. For the joy he conceived on this occasion, added to the high opinion he had of his achievements, intoxicated him so far, that, bidding adieu to the caution and prudence which had put his good for- tune and the glory of his actions upon a sure footing, he gave into the most extravagant p re- sumption, and even contempt of Caesar; inso- much, that he declared " He had no need of arms, nor any extraordinary preparations against him, since he could pull him down with much more ease than he had set him up." Beside, when Appius returned from Gaul wilh the legions which had been lent to Ccesar, he en- deavored to disparage the actions of that general, and to represent him in a mean light. " Porn- * There wns a law against any absent person's being ad- muted a candidate; but Pompey had added a clause which empowered the public to except any man by name from per- bonai attendance. pey," he said, " knew not hit r-/n strength ana the influence of his name, if ^ i sought any other defense against Caesar, upon vt .om his own force* would turn, as soon as they ss iv the former; such was their hatred of the one, and their affection for the other." Pompey was so much elated at this accou.it. and his confidence made him so extremely negligent, that he laughed at those who seemed to fear the war. And when they said, that if Caesar should advance in a hostile manner to Ro>ne, they did not see what forces they had to oppose him, he bade them, with an open and smiling countenance, give themselves no pain: "For, if in Italy," said he, "I do but stamp upon the ground, an army will appear." Meantime, Cresar was exerting himself greatly He was at no great distance from Italy, and not only sent his soldiers to vote in the elections, but by private pecuniary applications, corrupted many of the magistrates. Paulas the consul was of the number, and he had fifteen hundred talents* for changing sides. So were also Curio, one of the tribunes of the people, for whom he paid off an immense debt, and Mark Antony, who, out of friendship for Curio, had stood engaged with him for the debt. It is said, that when one of Csesar's officers, who stood before the senate-house, waiting the issue of the debates, was informed that they would not give Caesar a longer term in his com- mand, he laid his hand upon his sword, and said, "But this shall give it." Indeed all the actions and preparations of his general tended that way; though Curio's demands, in behalf of Caesar, seemed more plausibl-e. He proposed, that either Pompey should likewise be obliged to dismiss his forces, or Ca;sar suffered to keep his. " If they are both reduced to a private station," said he, " they will agree upon reason- able terms; or, if each retains his respective power, they will be satisfied. But he who weakens the one, without doing the same by the other, must double that force which he fears will subvert tho government."! Hereupon, Marcellus the consul called Caesar a public robber, and insisted that he should be de- clared an enemy to the state, if he did not lay down his arms. However, Curio, together with Antony and Pisco, prevailed that a farther inquiry should be made into the sense of the senate. He first proposed, that such as were of opinion, " That Caesar should disband his army, and Pompey keep his," should draw to one side of the house, and there appeared a majority for that motion. Then j he proposed, that the number of those should bo taken, whose sense it was, " That both should lay down their arms, and neither remain in com- mand;" upon which question, Pompey had only twenty-two, and Curio all the rest.f Curio, proud of his victory, ran in transports of joy to the as- sembly of the people, who received him with the loudest plaudits, and crowned him with flowers. Pompey was not present at the debate in the house; for the commander of an army is not al- lowed to enter the city. But Marcellus rose up and said, " I will no long-v s,! 10 hear the matter * 310,G85Z. sterling. Wilh this money he built the stately Basilica, that afterward bore his name. t Cornelius Scipio, one of Pompey's friends, remonstrated, that, in the present case, a great difference was to be made between the proconsul of Spa Ml and the proconsul of Gaul, since the term of the former was not expired, whereas that of the latter was. t Dio, on the contrary, affirms that, upon this question, the senate were almost' unanimous for Pompey; only *.w voting IbrCffisar, viz., Marcus Caicilius HIU! Curio. P M P E Y . 425 canvassed; but, as I see {en legions have already passed the Alps, I will send a man to oppose them in behalf of my country." Upon this, the city went into mourning, as in a time of public calamity. Marcellus walked through the forum, followed by the senate, and when he was in sight of Porripey without the gate, he said, " Pornpey, I charge you to assist your country; for which purpose you shall make use of the troops you have, and levy what new ones you please." Lentulus, one of the consuls elect for the next year, said the same. But when Pompey came to make the new levies, some abso- lutely refused to enlist; others gave in their names in small numbers and with no spirit; and the freatest part cried out, "A peace! A peace!" 'or Antony, notwithstanding the injunctions of the senate to the contrary, had read a letter of Caesar's to the people, well calculated to gain them. He proposed that both Pompey and he should resigft their governments and dismiss their forces, and then corne and give an account of their conduct to the people. Lentulus, who by this time had entered upon his office, would not assemble the senate; for Cicero, who was now returned from his govern- ment in Cilicia, endeavored to bring about a re- conciliation. He proposed, that Csesar should give up Gaul and disband the greatest part of his army, and keeping only two legions and the pro- vince of Illyricum, wait for another consulship. As Pompey received this proposal very ill, Caesar's friends were persuaded to agree, that he should only keep one of those two legions. But Lentu- lus was against it, and Cato cried out, " That Pompey was committing a second error, in suf- fering himself to be so imposed upon; " the recon- ciliation, therefore did not take effect. At the same time news was brought, that Cae- sar had seized Arminium, a considerable city in Italy, and that he was marching directly toward Rome with all his forces. The last circumstance, indeed, was not. true. He advanced with only three hundred horse, and five thousand foot; the rest of his forces were on the other side of the Alps, and he would not wait for them, choosing ruther to put his adversaries in confusion by a sud- den and unexpected attack, than to fight them when better prepared. When he carne to the river Ru- bicon, which was the boundary of his province, he stood silent a long time, weighing with him- self the greatness of his enterprise. At last, like one who plunges clown from the top of a preci- pice into a gulf of immense depth, he silenced his reason, and shut his eyes against the danger; and crying out, in the Greek language, " The die irf cast," he marched over with his army. Upon the first report of this at Rome, the city was in greater disorder and astonishment than had ever been known. The senate and the ma- gistrates ran immediately to Pompey. Tullus* asked him, what forces he had ready for war; and as he hesitated in his answer, and only said at last, in a tone of no great assurance, " That he had the two legions lately sent him back by Coasar, and that out of the new levies he believed he should shortly be able to make up a body of thirty thousand men;" Tullns exclaimed, "O Pompey! you have deceived us;" and gave it as his opinion, that ambassadors should immediately be dispatched to Ccusar. Then one Favonius, a man otherwise of i;o ill character, but who. by an insolent brutality, affected to imitate the noble freedom of Cato, bade Lu<;ius Volcatius Tullus. Pornpey "Stamp upon the ground, and call forth the armies he had promised." Pompey bore this ill-timed reproach with great mildness; and when Calo put him in mind of the warnings he had given him as to Caesar, from the first, he said "Cato, indeed, had spoken more like a prophet, and he had acted more like a friend." Cato then advised that Pompey should not only be appointed general, but invested with a discre- tionary power: adding that " those who were the authors of great evils knew best how to cure them." So saying, he set out for his province of Sicily, and the other great officers departed for theirs. Almost all Italy was now in motion, and no- thing coii.d be more perplexed than the whole face of things. Those who lived out of Rome' ifled to it from all quarters, and those who lived in it abandoned it as fast. These saw, that in such a tempestuous and disorderly state of affairs, tho well-disposed part of the city wanted strength, and that the ill-disposed were so refractory that they could not be managed by the magistrates. The terrors of the people could not be removed, and no one would suffer Pompey to lay a plan of action for himself. According to the passion wherevwUi each was actuated, whether fear, sor- row, orxloubt, they endeavored to inspire him with the same; insomuch that he adopted different measures the same day. He could gain no certain intelligence of the enemy's motions, because, every man brought him the report he happened to take up, and was angry if it did not meet with credit. Pompey, at last, caused it to be declared by an edict in form, that the commonwealth was in dan- | ger. and no peace to be expected. After which, j he signified that he should look upon those who remained in the city as the partisans of Cresar; and then quitted it in the dusk of the evening. The consuls also fled, without offering the sacri- fices which their customs required before a war. However, in this great extremity, Pompey could not but be considered as happy in the affections of his countrymen. Though many blamed the war, there was not a man who hated the general. Nay, the number of those who followed him, out of attachment to his person, was greater than that of the adventurers in the cause of liberty. A few days after, Caesar arrived at Rome. When he was in possession of the city, he behaved with great moderation in many respects, and com- posed, in a good measure, the minds of its remain- ing inhabitants. Only when Metellus, one of the tribunes of the people, forbade him to touch the money in the public treasury, he threatened him with death, adding an expression more terrible than the threat itself, "That it was easier for him to do it than to say it." Metellus being thus frightened off, Coesar took what sums he wanted, and then went in pursuit of Pompey; hastening to drive him out of Italy, before his forces could arrive from Spain. Pompey, who was master of Brundusium, and had a sufficient number of transports, desired the consuls to embark without loss of time, and sent them before him with thirty cohorts to Dyrrha- chiurn. But the same time he sent his father-in- law, Scipio, and his son Cnaeus, into Syrius, to provide ships of war. He had well secured the gates of the city, and planted the lightest of hia slingers and archers upon the walls; and having now ordered the Brundusians to keep within doors, he caused a number of trenches to be cut, and sharp stakes to be driven into them, and then cov- i ered with earth, in all the streets, except two, 426 which led down to the sea. In three days all his other troops were embarked without interruption; and then he suddenly gave the signal to those who guarded the walls; in consequence of which, they ran swiftly down to the harbor and got on board. Thus having his whole complement, he set sail; and crossed the sea to Dyrrhachium. When Caesar came and saw the walls left desti- tute of defense,* he concluded that Pompey had taken to flight, and in his eagerness to pursue, would certainly have fallen upon the sharp stakes in the trenches, had not the Brundusians informed him of them. He then avoided the streets, and took a circuit round the town, by which he dis- covered that all the vessels were set out, except two that had not many soldiers aboard. This maneuver of Pompey was commonly reckoned among the greatest acts of generalship. Caasar, however, could not help wondering, that his adversary, who was in possession of a fortified town, and expected his forces from Spain, and at the same time was master of the sea, should give up Italy in such a manner. Cicero,t too. blamed him for imitating the conduct of Themistocles, rather than that of Pericles, when the posture of his affairs more resembled the circumstances of the latter. On the other hand, the stens which Caesar took, showed he was afraid of hsmng the war drawn out to any length; for having taken NurneriuSjJ a friend of Pompey's, he had sent him to Brundusium, with offers of corning to an accommodation upon reasonable terms. But Nu- merius, instead of returning with an answer, sailed away with Pompey. Caesar thus made himself master of all Italy in sixty days, without the least bloodshed, and he would have been glad to have gone immediately in pursuit of Pompey. But as he was in want of shipping, he gave up that design for the pres- ent, and marched to Spain, with an intent to gain the forces there. In the meantime, Pompey assembled a great army; and at sea he was altogether invincible^ For he had five hundred ships of war, and the number of his lighter vessels was still greater. As for his land forces, he had seven thousand horse, the flower of Rome and Italy, all men of family, fortune, and courage. His infantry, though numerous, was a mixture of raw, undis- ciplined soldiers; he therefore exercised them du- ring his stay at Beroea, where he was by no means idle, but went through all the exercises of a sol- dier, as if he had been in the flower of his age. It inspired his troops with new courage, when they saw Pompey the Great, at the age of fifty- eight, going through the whole military discipline, in heavy armor, on foot; and then mounting his horse, drawing his sword with ease when at full speed, and as dexterously sheathing it again. As to the javelin, he threw it not only with great ex- actness, but with such force that few of the young inon could dart it to a greater distance. PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Cffisar besieged the place nine days, during which he not only invested it on the land side, but. undertook to shut up the port by a staccado of his own invention. However, before the work could he completed, Pompey made his escape. t Ep. to Atticns, vii. 11. J Caisar calls him Cn. Magius. He was Master of Pom- pey's Board of Works. Caesar, on the contrary, says, that this body of horse was almost entirely composed of stringers. "There were six hundred Gahtiaris, five hundred Oappadocians, as many Tiiracians, two hundred Macedonians, five hundred Gauls, or Germans, eight hundred raised out of his own estates, or out of his own retinue;" and so of the rest, whom he particularly mentions, and lells us to what countries they belonged. Many kings and princes repaiied to his camp, and the number of Roman officers who had com- manded armies was so great, that it was sufficient to 'make up a complete senate. Labienus,* who had been honored with Caesar's friendship, and served under him in Gaul, now joined Pompey. Even Brutus, the son of that Brutus who was killed by him not very fairly in the Cisalpine Gaul, a man of spirit, who had never spoken to Pompey before, because he considered him as the murderer of his father, now ranged himself under his banners, as the defender of the liberties of his country. Cicero, too, though he had written and advised otherwise, was ashamed not to appear in the number of those who hazarded their lives for Rome. Tidius Sextius, though extremely old, and maimed of one leg, repaired, among the rest, to his standard in Macedonia ; and though others only laughed at the poor appearance he made, Pompey no sooner cast his eyes upon him, than he rose up, and ran to meet him; considering it as a great proof of the justice of his cause, that, in spite of age and weakness, persons should come and seek danger with him, rather than stay at home in safety. But after Pompey had assembled his senate, and at the motion of Cato, a decree was made, " That no Roman should be killed except in battle, nor any city that was subject to the Romans be plun- dered," Pompey's party gained ground daily. Those who lived at too great a distance, or were too weak to take a share in the war, interested themselves in the cause as much as they were able, and with words at least, contended for it; looking upon those as enemies both to the gods and men, who did not wish that Pompey might conquer. Not but that Caesar made a merciful use of his victories. He had lately made himself master of Pompey's forces in Spain, and though it was net without a battle, he dismissed the officers, and in- corporated the troops with his own. After this, he passed the Alps again, and marched through Italy to Brundusium, where he arrived at the time of the winter solstice. There he crossed the sea, and landed at Oricurn; from whence he dispatched Vibullius,t one of Pompey's friends, whom he had brought prisoner thither, with prosposals of a con- ference between him and Pompey, " in which they should agree to disband their armies within three days, renew their friendship, confirm it with solemn oaths, and then both return to Italy." Pompey took this overture for another snare, and therefore drew down in haste to the sea, and secured all the forts and places of strength for land forces, as well as all the ports and other com- modious stations for shipping; so that there was not a wind that blew, which did not bring him either provisions, or troops, or money. On the * It seemed very strange, says Dio, that Labienns shonld abandon Caesar, who had loaded him with honors, and given him the command of all the forces on the other sidt of the Alps, while he was at. Rome, lint he gives this rea- son for it: "Labienus, elated witli his immen.se wealth, an 3 proud ofhis preferments, forgot himself to such a degree as to assume a character very unbecoming a person in his cir- cumstances. He was even for putting himself upon an equality with Ctesar, who thereupon grew cool toward him and treated him with some reserve, which Labienus reseat- ed, and went over to Pompey." t In the primed text it is Julrius; but one ot the manu- scripts gives us nbullius, which is the name he has in Cicsar's L'ommen., lib. iii. Vibnllius Rufus traveled night and day, without allowing himself any rest, until he reached Pompey's camp, who had not yet received advice of Cassar's arrival; but was no sooner informed of the taking of Oricurn and Apollonia, than he immediately decamped, and by long marches reached Oricuui before Cffisar. P M P E Y . 427 other band, Caesar was reduced to such straits, both by sea and land, that he was under the neces- sity of "seeking a battle. Accordingly, he attacked Pompey's intrenchments, and bade him defiance daily. In most of these attacks and skirmishes he had the advantage; but one day was in danger of losing his whole army. Pompey fought with so much vulor, that he put Caesar's whole detach- ment to flight, after having killed two thousand men upon the spot; but was either unable or afraid to pursue his blow, and enter their camp with them. Coesar said to his friends on the occa- sion, "This day the victory had been the enemy's had their general known how to conquer."* Pompey's troops, elated with this success, were in great haste to come to a decisive battle. Nay, Pompey himself seemed to give into their opinions, by writing to the kings, the generals, and cities, in his interest, in the style of a conqueror. Yet, all this while, he dreaded the issue of a general action, believing it much better, by length of time, by famine and fatigue, to tire out men who had been ever invincible in arms, and long accustomed to conquer when they fought together. Beside, he knew the infirmities of age had made them unfit for the other operations of war, for long marches and counter-marches, for digging trenches and building forts, and that, therefore, they wished for nothing so much as a battle. Pompey, with all these arguments, found it no easy matter to keep his arrny quiet. After this last engagement, Caesar was in such want of provisions, that he was forced to decamp, and he took his way through Athamania into Thessaly. This added so much to the high opinion Pompey's soldiers had of themselves, that it was impossible to ktsep it within bounds. They cried out with one voice, " Caesar is fled." Some called upon the general to pursue: some to pass over into Italy. Others sent their friends and servants to Rome, to engage houses near the forum, for the convenience of soliciting the great offices of state. And not a few went of their own ac- cord to Cornelia, who had been privately lodged in Lesbos, to congratulate her upon the conclusion of the war. On this great emergency, a council of war was called; in which Afranius gave it as his opinion, " That they ought immediately to regain Italy, for that was the great prize aimed at in the war. Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, Spain, and both the Gauls, would soon submit to those who were masters there. What should affect Pompey still more was, that his native country, just by, stretched out her hands to him as a suppliant; and it could not be consistent with his honor to let her remain under such indignities, and in so disgraceful a vassalage to the slaves and flatterers of tyrants." But Pompey thought it would neither be for his reputation, to fly a second time from Caesar, and again to be pursued, when for- tune put it in his power to pursue; nor agreeable to the laws of piety, to leave his father-in-law Scipio, and many other persons of consular dig- nity, in Greece and Thessaly, a prey to Caesar, with all their treasures and forces. As for Rome, * Yet it may be observed, in defense of Pompey, that as his troops were raw and inexperienced, it was not amiss to try them in many skirmishes and light attacks, before he hazarded a general engagement with an army of veterans. Many instances of that kind might be produced from the conduct of the ablest generals. And we are persuaded that if Pompey had attempted to force Caesar's camp, he would have been repulsed with loss and disgrace. Pompey's freatest error seems to have been, his suffering himself to e brought to an action at last by the importunity of his Oificent and soldier*. he should take the best care of her, by fixing the scene of war at the greatest distance from her; that, without feeling its calamities, or perhaps hearing the report of them, she might quietly wait for the conqueror. This opinion prevailing, he set out in pursuit of Caesar, v/ith a resolution not to hazard a battle, but to keep near enough to hold him, as it were, besieged, and to wear him out with famine. This he thought the best method he could take; and a report was, moreover, brought him, of its being whispered among the equestrian order, "That as soon as they had taken off Ca3sar, they could do nothing better than take off him too." Some say, this was the reason why he did not employ Cato in any service of importance, but, upon his march against Coesar, sent him to the sea-coasi, to take care of the baggage, lest, after he had destroyed Caesar, Cato should soon oblige him to Jay down his commission. While he thus softly followed the enemy's, steps, a complaint was raised against him, and urged with much clamor, that he was not exer- cising his generalship upon Caesar, but upon the senate and the whole commonwealth, in order that he might forever keep the command in his hands, and have those for his guards and servants, who had a right to govern the world. Domitius ^Eno- barbus, to increase the odium, always called him Agamemnon, or king of kings. Favonius piqued him no less with a jest, than others with their unseasonable severity ; he went about crying, " My friends, we shall eat no figs in Tusculum this year." And Lucius Afranius, who lost the forces in Spain, and was accused of having betray- ed them into the enemy's hand, now when he saw Pompey avoid a battle, said, " He was surprised that his accusers should make any difficulty of fighting that merchant (as they called him) who trafficked for provinces." These and many other like sallies of ridicule, had such an effect upon Pompey, who was ambi- tious of being spoken well of by the world, and had too much deference for the opinions of his friends, that he gave up his own better judgment, to follow them in the career of their false hopes and prospects. A thing which woufd have been unpardonable in the pilot or master of a ship, much more in the commander-in-chief of so many nations, and such numerous armies. He had often commended the physician who gives no in- dulgence to the whimsical longings of his patients, and yet he humored the sickly cravings of his army, and was afraid to give them pain, though necessary for the preservation of their life and being. For who can say that army was in a sound and healthy state, when some of the officers went about the camp canvassing for the offices of consul and pra3tor; and others, namely, Spinther, Domitius, and Scipio, were engaged in quarrels and cabals about Caesar's high-priesthood, as if their adversary had been only a Tigranes, a king of Armenia, or a prince of the Nabathaeans; and not that Caesar, and that army, who had stormed a thousand cities, subdued above three hundred nations, gained numberless battles of the Germans and Gauls, taken a million of prisoners, and killed as many fairly in the field? Notwithstanding all this, they continued loud and tumultuous in their demands of a battle, and when they came to the plains of Pharsalia, forced Pompey to call a coun- cil of war. Labienus, who had the command of the cavalry, rose up first, and took an oath, "That he would not return from the battle, until he hud put the enemy to flight." All the other officers swore the same. 428 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. The night following, Pompey had this dream. He thought, "he entered his own theater, and was received with loud plaudits; after which, he adorned the temple of Venus the Victorious with many spoils." This vision, on one side, encour- aged him, and on the other alarmed him. He was afraid that Caesar, who was a descendant of Venus, would be aggrandized at his expense. Beside, a panic* fear ran through the camp, the noise of which awakened him. And about the morning watch, over Caesar's camp, where every- thing was perfectly quiet, there suddenly appeared a great light, from which a stream of fire issued in the form of a torch, and fell upon that of Pom- pey. Caesar himself says, he saw it as he was going his rounds. CiBsar was preparing at break of day, to march to Scotusajf his soldiers were striking their tents, and the servants, and beasts of burden, were already in motion, when his scouts brought intel- ligence, that they had seen arms handed about in the enemy's camp, and perceived a noise and bustle, wh ch indicated an approaching battle. After these, others came and assured him, that the first ranks were drawn up. Upon this Caesar said, " The long-wished day is come, on which we shall fight with men, and not with want and famine." Then he. immedi- ately ordered the red mantle to be put up before his pavilion, which, among the Romans, is the signal of a battle. The soldiers no sooner beheld it, than they left their tents as they were, and ran to arms with loud shouts, and every expression of joy. And when the officers began to put them in or.ier of battle, each man fell into his proper rank as quietly, and with as much skill and ease, as a cfiorus in a tragedy. PompeyJ placed himself in his right wing over against Antony, and his father-in-law, Scipio, in the center, opposite Domitius Calvinus. His left wing was commanded by Lucius Domitius, and supported by the cavalry; for they were almost all ranged on that side; in order to break in upon Caesar, and cut off the tenth legion, which was accounted the bravest in his army, and in which he used to fight in person. Caesar, seeing the enemy's left wing so well guarded with horse, * Panic fears were so called, from the terror which the god Pan is said to have struck the enemies of Greece with at the batile of Marathon. t Scotusa was a city of Thessaly. Caesar was persuaded thrtt Pompey would not come to action, and, therefore, chose to inarch in search of provisions, as well as to harass the enemy with frequent movements, and to watch an opportu- nity, in some of those movements, to full upon them. t It is somewhat surprising, that the account which Ctesar himself has left us of this memorable battle, should meet with contradiction. Yet so it is; Plutarch differs widely from him, and Appian from both. According to Czesar (Bell. Civil, lib. iii.). Pompey was on the left, with the two legions which Cassar had returned him at the be- ginning of the war. Scipio, Pompey's father-in-law, was in the center, with the legions he had brought from Syria, and the reinforcements sent by several kings and states of Asia. The Cicilian legion, amfsome cohorts which had served in pain, were in the right, under the command of Afranins. As Pompey's right wing was covered by the Enipeus, he strengthened the leR with the seven thousand horse, as well as with the slingers and archers. The whole army, consisting of forty-rive thousand men, was drawn up in three lines, with very little spaces between them. In conformity to this dis. position, Citsar's army was drawn up in the following or- der: the ten ill legion, which had on all occasions signalized itself above the rest, was placed in the right wing, and the nimh in the left; but as the latter had been considerably weakened in the action at. Dvrrachium, the eighth legion was placed so near it, as to be" able to support and reinforce it upan occasion. The rest of Cassar's forces filled up the paces between the two wings. Mark Antony command- ed the left wing, Sylla the right, and Cneius Domitius Cal- vinns the main boilv. As for C;rsar, he posted himself on the right, over .iguiuct I'ompey, that he mi^hthave him al- ways in sin at. and fearing the excellence of their armor-, ent for a detachment of six cohorts from the body of reserve, and placed them behind the tenth legion, with orders not to stir before the attack, lest they should be discovered by the enemy; but when the enemy's cavalry had charged, to make up hrough the foremost ranks, and then not to dis- charge their javelins at a distance, as brave men generally do in their eagerness to come to sword- in-hanii, but to reserve them until they came to close fighting, and push them upward into the eyes and faces of the enemy. " For those fair young dancers," said he, " will never stand the steel aimed at their eyes, but will fly to save their undsome faces." While Caesar was thus employed, Pompey took a view on horseback of the order of both armies; and finding that the enemy kept their ranks with the utmost exactness, and quietly waited for the signal of battle, while his own men, for want of experience, were fluctuating and unsteady, he was afraid they would be broken upon the first onset. He therefore commanded the vanguard to stand firm in their ranks,* and in that close order to receive the enemy's charge. Caesar condemned this measure, as not only tending to lessen the vigor of the blows, which is always greatest in the assailants, but also to damp the fire and spirit of the meti; whereas those who advance with im- petuosity, and animate each other with shouts, are filled with an enthusiastic valor and superior ardor. Caesar's army consisted of twenty- two thousand men; and Pompey's was something more than twice that number. When the signal was given on both sides, and the trumpets sounded a charge, each common man attended only to his own con- cern. But some of the principal Romans and Greeks, who only stood and looked on, when the dreadful moment of action approached, could not help considering to what theavarieeandambition of two men had brought the Roman empire. The same arms on both sides, the troops marshaled in the same manner, the same standard, in short, the strength and tiower of one and the same city turned upon itself! What could be a stronger proof of the blindness and infatuation of human nature, when carried away by its passions ? Had they been willing to enjoy the fruits of their la- bors in peace and" tranquillity, the greatest and best part of the world was their own. Or, if they must have indulged their thirst of victories and triumphs, the Parthians and Germans were yet to be subdued ; Scythia and India yet remained to- gether with a yery plausible color for their lust of new acquisitions, the pretense of civilizing barbarians. And what Scythian horse, what Par- thian arrows, what Indian treasures, could have resisted seventy thousand Romans, led on by Pompey and Caasar, with whose names those na- tions had long been acquainted ? Into such a variety of wild and savage countries had these two generals carried their victorious arms ! Whereas now they stood threatening each other with destruction ; not sparing even their own glory, though to it they sacrificed their country, but prepared, one ol them, to lose the reputation of being invincible, which hitherto they had both maintained. So that the alliance which they had contracted by Pompey's marriage to Julia, was from the first only an artful expedient; and her charms were to form a self-interested compact, instead of being the pledge of a sincere friendship. * Vide Caes., nbi supra. This however, must be said in excuse for Pompey, thai generals of great fame and experience have omeUnies dun* as he did. POMPEY 429 The plain of Pharsalia was now covered with men, and horses, and arms; and the signal of battle being given on hoth sides, the first on Caesar's side who advanced to the charge was Caius Crastinus,* who commanded a corps of a hundred and twenty men, and was determined to make good his promise to his general. He was the first man Csusar saw when he went out of the trenches in the morning; and upon Caesar's ask- ing him what lie thought of the battle, lie stretch- ed out his hand, and answered in a cheerful tone, "You will gain a glorious victory, and I shall have your praise this day, either alive or dead." Ill pursuance of this promise, he advanced the foremost, and many following to support him, he charged into the midst of the enemy. They goon took to their swords, and numbers were slain'; but as Crastinus was making his way forward, and cutting down all before him, one of Pompey's men stood to receive him, and pushed his sword in at his mouth with such force, that it went through the nape of his neck. Crastinus thus killed, the fight was maintained with equal advan- tage on both sides. Pompey did not immediately lead on his right wing, but often directed his eyes to the left, and' lost time in waiting to see what execution his cavalry would do there. Meanwhile they had extended their squadron to surround Cffisar, and prepared to drive the few horse he had placed in front, back upon the foot. At that instant Cse- sar gave the signal: upon which his cavalry re- treated a little; and the six cohorts, which consist- ed of three thousand men, and had been placed behind tiie tenth legion, advanced to surround Pompey's cavalry; and coming close up to them, raised the points of their javelins, as they had been taught, and aimed them at the face. Their adversaries, who were not experienced in any kind of fighting, and had not the least previous idea of this, could not parry or endure the blows upon their faces, but turned their backs, or cover- ed their eyes with their hands, and soon fled with great dishonor. Caesar's men took no care to pursue them, but turned their force upon the enemy's infantry, particularly upon that wing, which, now stripped of its horse, lay open to the attack on all sides. The six cohorts, therefore, took them in flank, while the tenth legion charg- ed them in front; and they, who had hoped to eurround the enemy, and now, instead of that, saw themselves surrounded, made but a short re- fiistance, and then took to a precipitate flight. By the great dust that was raised, Po nippy con- jectured the fate of his cavalry; and it is hard to gay what passed in his mind at that moment. He appeared like a man moonstruck and distract- ed; and without considering that he was Pompey the Great, or speaking to any one, he quitted the ranks, and retired step by step toward his camp. A scene which cannot be better painted than in these verses of Homer: f But partial Jove, espousing Hector's part, Shot heaven-bred horror through the Grecian heart; Coiifused,unnerv'd in Hector's presence grown, Amazed he stood with terrors not his own. O'er his broad back his moony shield he threw, And glaring round by tardy steps withdrew. Pope. In this condition he entered his tent, where he sat down, and uttered not a word, until at last, upon finding that some of the enemy entered the camp with the fugitives, he said, "What! * So Cassnr calls him. His name in Plutarch is Crassia- HUS, in Appian Crasninus. t In the eleventh book of the Iliad, where he is speaking of the flight of Ajax before Hector. into my camp loo!" After this short exclama- tion, he rose up, and dressing himself in a man- ner suitable to his fortune, privately withdrew.* All the other legions fled, and a great slaughter was made in the camp, of the servants and others who had the care of the tents. But Asinins Pol- lio, who then fought on Cesar's side, assures us, that of the regular troops there were not above six thousand men killed. f Upon the taking of the camp, there was a spectacle which showed, in strong colons, the vanity and folly of Pompey's troops. All the tents were crowned with myrtle; the beds were strewed with flowers; the tables covered with cups, and bowls of wine set out. In short, everything had the appearance of preparations for feasts and sacrifices, rather than for men going out to battle. To such a degree had their vain hopes corrupted them, and with such a senseless confi- dence they took the field! When Pompey had got at a little distance from the camp, he quitted his horse. He had very few people about him; and, as he saw he was not pursued, he went softly on, wrapped up in such thoughts as we may suppose a man to have, who had been used for thirty-four years to con- quer and carry all before him, and now in his old age first come to know what it was to be defeat- ed and to fly. We may easily conjecture what his thoughts must be, when in one short hour he had lost the glory and the power which had been growing up amidst so many wars and conflicts, and he who was lately guarded with such armies of horse and loot, and such great and powerful fleets, was reduced to so mean and contemptible an equipage, that his enemies, who were ia search of him, could not know him. He passed by Larissa, and came to Tempo, where, burning with thirst, he threw himself upon his face, and drank out of the river; after which, he passed through the valley, and went down to the sea-coast. There he spent the remain- der of the night in a poor fisherman's cabin. Next morning, about break of day, ho went on board a small river-boat, taking with him such of his company as were freemen. The slaves he dismissed, bidding them go to Ceesar, and fear nothing. As he was coasting along, he saw a ship of burden just ready to set sail; the master of which was Peticius, a Roman citizen, who, though not acquainted with Pompey, knew him by sight. It happened, that this man, the night before, dreamed he saw Pompey come and talk to him, not in the figure he had formerly known him, but in mean and melancholy circumstances. He was giving the passengers an account of his * Cscsar tells ns that the cohorts appointed to defend the camp, made a vigorous resistance; but being at length overpowered, fled to'a neighboring mountain, where he re- solved to invest them. But before he had finished his lines, want of water obliged them to abandon that post, and re- tired toward Larissa. Cuesar pursued the fugitives, at the head of four legions (not of the fourth legion, as the authors of the Universal History erroneously say), and, after six miles' march, came up with them. Bnt they, not daring to engage troops flushed with victory, fled for refuge to a high hill, the foot of which was watered by a little river. Though Caesar's men were quite spent, and ready to faint with the excessive heat and the fatigue of the whole day, yet. by his obliging manner, he prevailed upon them to cut oft' the con- venience of the water from the enemy by a trench. Here- upon the unfortunate fugitives came to a capitulation, threw down their arms, and implored the clemency of the conquer, or. This they all did, except some senators, who, ns it. wa uow night, escaped in the dark. Vide Ciesur, Hell. lib. 11.. 80. t Caesar says, that in all there were fifteen thorn-urn killed, and twenty-four thousand taken prisoners. 430 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. dream, as persons, who have a great deal of time I upon their hands, love to discourse about such matters; when, on a sudden, one of the mariners I told him, he saw a little boat rowing up to him from the land, and the crew making signs, by shaking their garments and stretching out their hands. Upon this, Peticius stood up, and could distinguish Pompey among them, in the same form as he had seen him in his dream. Then beating his head for sorrow, he ordered the sea- men to let down the ship's boat, and held out his hand to Pompey to invite him aboard; for by his dress he perceived his change of fortune. There- fore, without waiting for any further applica- tion, he took him up, and such of his compan- ions as he thought proper, and then hoisted sail. The persons Pompey took with him, were the two Lentuli and Favonius; and a little after, they saw king Deiotarus beckoning to them with great earnestness from the shore, and took him up likewise. The master of the ship provided them the best supper he could, and when it was almost ready, Pompey, for want of a servant, was going to wash himself, but Favonius seeing it, stepped up, and both washed and anointed him. All the time he was on board, he continued to wait upon him in all the offices of a servant, even to the washing of his feet and providing his supper; in- somuch, that one who saw the unaffected sim- plicity and sincere attachment with which Favo- nius performed these offices, cried out, The generous mind adds dignity To every act, and nothing misbecomes It. Pompey, iu the course of his voyage, sailed by Amphipolis, and from thence steered for Mity- lene, to take up Cornelia, and his son. As soon AS he reached the island, he sent a messenger to the town with news far different from what Cor- nelia expected. For, by the flattering accounts which many officious persons had given her, she understood that the dispute was decided at Dyr- rhachium, and that nothing but the pursuit of Ceesar remained to be attended to. The messen- ger, finding her possessed with such hopes, had not power to make the usual salutations, but ex- pressing the greatness of Pompey's misfortunes by his tears rather than words, only told her, "She must make haste, if she had a mind to see Pompey with one ship only, and that not his own." At this news Cornelia threw herself upon the ground, where she lay a long time insensible and speechless. At last, coming to herself, she per- ceived there was no time to be lost in tears and lamentations, and therefore hastened through the town to the sea. Pornpey ran to meet her, and re- ceived her to his arms as she was just going to fall. While she hung upon his neck, she thus addressed him: "I see, my dear husband, your present unhap- py condition is the eifect of my ill fortune, and not yours. Alas! how are you reduced to one poor vessel, who, before your marriage with Cornelia, traversed this sea with five hundred galleys! Why do you come to see me, and not rather leave me to my evil destiny, who have loaded you too with such a weight of calamities! How happy had it been for me to have died before I heard that Publius, my first husband, was killed by the Farthians! How wise, had I followed him to the grave, as I once intended! What have I lived for since, but to bring misfortunes upon Pompev the Great?"* Such, we are assured, was the speech of Cor- * Cornelia is represerted by Lncan, too, as imputing tlie misfortunes of I'umpej to her alliance with him; and it nelia; and Pompey answered, "Until this moment, Cornelia, you have experienced .nothing but the smiles of fortune ; and it was she who deceived you, because she stayed with me longer than she commonly does with her favorites. But, fated as we are, we must bear this reverse, and make an- other trial of her. For it is no more improbable, that we may emerge from this poor condition and rise to great things again, than it was that we should fall from great things into this pool condition." Cornelia then sent into the city for her mosl valuable movables and her servants. The people of Mitylene came to pay their respects to Pom- pey, and to invite him to their city. But he re- fused to go, and bade them surrender themselves to the conqueror without fear; "For Caesar," he told them, "had great clemency." After this, he turned to Cratippus the philosopher, who was come from the town to see him, and began to complain a little of Providence, and express some doubts concerning it. Cratippus made some concessions, and, turning the discourse, en- couraged him to hope better things; that he might not give him pain, by an unseasonable opposition to his argument; else he might have answered his objections against Providence, by showing, that the state, and indeed the constitu- tion, was in such disorder, that it was necessary it should be changed into a monarchy. Or this one question would have silenced him, "How do we know, Pompey, that, if you had conquered, you would have made a better use of your good fortune than Caesar?" But we must leave the determinations of Heaven to its superior wisdom. As soon as his wife and his friends were embark- ed, he set sail, and continued his course without touching at any port, except for water and pro- visions, until he came to Attalia, a city of Parn- phylia. There he was joined by some Cilician galleys; and beside picking up a number of sol- diers, he found in a little time, sixty senators about him. When he was informed that his fleet was still entire, and that Cato was gone to Africa with a considerable body of men which he had collected after their flight, he lamented to his friends his great error, in suffering himself to be forced into an engagement at land, and making no use of those forces, in which he was confessedly stronger; nor even taking care to fight near his fleet, that, in case of his meeting with a check at land, he might have been sup- plied from sea with another army, capable of making head against the enemy. Indeed, we find no greater mistake in Pompey's whole con- duct, nor a more remarkable instance of Caesar's generalship, than in removing the scene of action to such a distance from the naval forces. However, as it was necessary to undertake something with the small means he had left, he sent to some cities, and sailed to others himself, to raise money, and to get a supply of men for his ships. But knowing the extraordinary celerity of the enemy's motions, he was afraid he might be beforehand with him, and seize all that he was preparing. He therefore, began to think of retir- ing to some asylum, and proposed the matter in council. They could not think of any province seems, from one part of her speech on this occasion, that she should have been given to Czesar. Outinam Thalamos invisi Csesaris issem! If there were anything in this, it might have been a mala- rial cause of the quarrel between Cxsar and Pompey, as tha latter, by means of this alliance, must have strengthened himself "with the Crassian interest; for Corneiia was the r- lict of Tublius Crassus, the son of Marcus Crassu*. P M P E Y . 431 In the Roman empire that would afford a safe re- treat; and when they cast their eyes on the foreign kingdoms, Pompey mentioned Parthia us the most likely to receive and protect them in tt^ir present weak condition, and afterward to send them hack witii a force sufficient to retrieve their affair". Others were of opinion, it was proper to apply to Africa, and to Juha in particular. But Theo- plianes of Lesbos observed it was madness to lenve Egypt, which was distant but three days' sail. Be- side, Ptolemy,* who was growing toward man- hood, had particular obligations to Pompey on his father's account; and should he go then, and put himself in the hands of the Parthians, the most perfidious people in the world? He represented what a wrong measure it would be, if, rather* than trust to the clemency of a noble Roman, who was his father-in-law, and be contented with the second place of eminence, he would venture his person with Arsace^,f by whom even Crassus would not be taken alive. He added, that it would be extremely absurd to cany a young wo- man of the family of Scipio among barbarians, who thought power consisted in the display of insolence and outrage; and where, if she escaped unviolated, it would be believed she did not, after she. had been with those who were capable of treating her with indignity. It is said, this last consideration only prevented his marching to the Euphrates; but it is some doubt with us, whether it was not rather his fate than his opinion, which directed his steps another way. When it was determined that they should seek for refuge in ftgypt, he set sail from Cyprus with Cornelia, in a Sel'eucian galley. The rest accom- panied him, some in ships of war, and some in merchantmen: and they made a safe voyage. Be- ing informed that Ptolemy was with his army at Pelusium, where he was engaged in war with his sister, he proceeded thither, and sent a messenger before him to notify his arrival, and to entreat the king's protection. Ptolemy was v^ry young, and Photinus, his prime minister, called a council of his ablest offi- cers; though their advice had no more weight than he was pleased to allow it. He ordered each, however, to give his opinion. But who can, without indignation, consider, that the fate of Pompey the Great was to be determined by Pho- tinus, an eunuch; by Theodotus, a man of Chios, who was hired to teach the prince rhetoric; and by Achillas, an Egyptian ? For among the king's chamberlains and tutors, these had the greatest influence over him, and were the persons he most consulted. Pompey lay at anchor at some dis- tance from the place, waiting the determination of this respectable board; while he thought it be- neath him to be indebted to Cresar for his safety. The council were divided in their opinions; some advising the prince to give him an honorable re- ception; and others to send him an order to depart. But Theodotus, to display his eloquence, insisted that both were wrong. " If you receive him," said he, " you will have Cresar for your enemy, and Pompey for your master. If you order him off, Pompey muy'one day revenge the affront, and CaBsar resent your not having put him in his hands; the best method, therefore, is to send for him, and * This was Ptolemy Dionysins, the son of Ptolemy Aul tes, who died in the year of Rome 704, which was the year before the battle of Pharsalia. He was in his fourteenth year. t From this passage it appears, that Arsaces was the common name of the kings of Parthia. For it was not the p roper name ot the kin<r then upon ihe throne, nor of him who was at war with Crassus. put him to death. By this means yon will do Cresar a favor, and have nothing to fear from Pompey." He added, with a smile, "Dead men do not bite." This advice being approved of, the execution of it was committed to Achillas. In consequence of which, he took with him Septimius, who had formerly been one of Pompey's officers, and Sal- vius, who had also acted under him as a centu- rion, with three or four assistants, and made up to Pompey's ship, where his principal friends and officers had assembled, to see how the affair went on. When they perceived there was nothing magnificent in their reception, nor suitable to the hopes which Theophanes had conceived, but that a few men only, in a fishing-boat, came to wait upon them, such want of respect appeared a sus- picious circumstance; and they advised Pornpey, while he was out of the reach of missive weapons, to get out to the main sea. Meantime, the boat approaching, Septimius spoke first, addressing Pompey, in Latin, by the title of Imperator. Then Achillas saluted him in Greek, and desired him to come into the boat, because the water was very shallow toward the shore, and a galley must strike upon the sands. At the same time they saw several of the king's ships getting ready, and the shore covered with troops, so that if they would have changed their minds, it was then too late; beside, their distrust would have furnished the assassins with a pretense for their injustice. He, therefore, embraced Cor- nelia, who lamented his sad exit before it hap- pened; and ordered two centurions, one of his enfranchised slaves named Philip, and a servant called Scenes, to get into the boat before him. When Achillas had hold of his hand, and he was going to step in himself, he turned to his wife and son, and repeated that verse of Sophocles, Seok'st thou a tyrant's door? then farewell freedom ! Though free as air before. These were the last words he spoke to them. As there was a considerable distance between the galley and the shore, and he observed that not a man in the boat showed him the least civility, or even spoke to him, he looked at Septimius, and said, "Methinks, I remember you to have been my fellow-soldier:" but he answered only with a nod, without testifying any regard or friendship. A profound silence again taking place, Pompey took out a paper, in which he had written a speech in Greek, that he designed to make to Ptolemy, and amused himself with reading it. When they approached the shore, Cornelia, with her friends in the galley, watched the event with great anxiety. She was a little encouraged, when she saw a number of the king's great officers coming down to the strand, in all appearance to receive her husband and do him honor. But the moment Pompey was taking hold of Philip's hand, to raise him with more ease, Septimius came be- hind, and ran him through the body; after which Salvius and Achilhis also drew their swords. Pom- pey took his robe in both hands and covered his face; and without saying or doing the least thing unworthy of him, submitted to his fate: only utter- ing a groan, while they dispatched him with many blows. He was then just fifty-nine years old, for he was killed the day after his birth-day.* * Some divines, in saying that Pompey never prospered after he presumed to enter the sanctuary in the temple at Jerusalem, intimate thnt hi misfortnne^ wpro o-.vinjj to that profanation; hnt we forl>ear, with Plutarch, to com- ment on the providential determination of the Supreme Beinjr. Indeed, he tell a sacrifice to as vile a set of people as he had before insulted; for, the Jews excepted, thera 432 PLUTARCH'S LIVES, Cornelia, and her friends in the galleys, upon 1 seeing him murdered, g;tve a shriek that was heard to the shore, and weighed anchor immediately. Their flight was assisted by a brisk gale, as they got out more to sea; so that the Egyptians gave up their design of pursuing them. The. murderers having cut oil Pompey's head, threw the body out of the boat naked, and left it exposed to all who were desirous of such a sight. Philip stayed until their curiosity was satisfied, and then washed the body with sea-water, and wrapped it in one of his own garments, because he. had nothing else at hand. The next thing was to look out for wood for the funeral-pile; and casting his eyes over the shore, he spied the old remains of a fishing-boat; which, though not large, would make a sufficient pile for a poor naked body that was not quite entire. While he was collecting the pieces of plank and putting them together, an old Roman, who had made some of his first campaigns under Pompey, carne up and said to Philip, " Who are you that are preparing the funeral of Pompey the Great?" Phiiip answered, " I am his freedman." " But you shall not," said the old Roman, " have this honor entirely to yourself. As a work of piety offers itself, let me have a share in it; that I may not absolutely repent my having passed so many years in a foreign country; but, to compensate many misfortunes, may have the consolation of doing some of the last honors* to the greatest general Rome ever producc-u." In this manner was the funeral of Pompey conducted. Next day Lucius Lentulus, who knew nothing of what had passed, because he was upon his voyage from Cyprus, arrived upon the Egyptian shore, and as he was coasting along, saw the funeral pile, and 'Philip whom he did not yet know, standing by it. Upon winch he said to himself, " Who has finished his days, and is going to leave his remains upon this shore!" adding after a short pause, with a sigh, " Ah! Pompey the Great! perhaps thou mayest be the man." Lentulus soon after went on shore, and was taken and slain. Such was the end of Pompey the Great. As for Caesar, he arrived not long after in Egypt, which he found in great disorder. When they came to present the head, he turned from it, and the person that brought it, as a sight of horror. He received the seal, but it was with tears. The device was a lion holding a sword. The two as- sassins, Achillas and Photinus, he put to death; and the king, being defeated in battle, perished in the river. Theodotus, the rhetorician, escaped the vengeance of Cresar, by leaving Egypt ; but ho wandered about, a miserable fugitive, and was hated wherever he 1 went. At last, Marcus Brutus, who killed Caesar, found the wretch, in his pro- vince of Asia, and put him to death, after having made him suffer the most exquisite tortures. The ashes of Pompey were carried to Cornelia, whc buried them in his lands near Alba.f ' AGESILAUS AND POMPEY COMPARED. SUCH is the account we had to give of the lives of these two great men: and, in drawing up the parallel, we shall previously take a short survey of the difference in their characters. In the first place, Pompey rose to power, and established his reputation, by just and laudable means; partly by the strength of his own genius, and partly by his services to Sylla, in freeing Italy from various attempts of despotism. Whereas Agesilaus came to the throne by methods equally immoral and irreligious; for it was by accusing Leotychidas of bastardy, whom his brother had acknowledged as his legitimate son, and by elud- ing the oracle relative to a larne king.J was not, upon earth a more despicable race of men than the ecwardly, cruel Egyptians. * Of touching and wrapping up the body. t Pompey has, in all appearance, and in all considera- tions of his character, had less justice done him by histo- rians than any other man of his time. His popular hnmar ity, his military and political skill, his prudence (which h sometimes unfortunately gave up), his natural bravery an i" ii : :l pO*tt*i. See the Life of Agesilaus. In the next place Pompey paid all due respect to Sylla during his life, and took care to see hia remains honorably interred, notwithstanding the opposition it met with from Lepidus; and after- ward he gave his daughter to Faust us, the son of Sylla. On the other hand, Agesilaus shook off Lysander upon a slight pretense, and treated him | with great indignity. Yet the services Pompey i received from Sylla were not greater than those ! he had rendered him; whereas Agesilaus was ap- I pointed king of Sparta by Lysunder's means, and S afterward captain-general of Greece. In the third place. Pompey's offenses against the laws and the constitution were principally owing to his alliances, to his supporting either Caesar or Scipio (whose daughter he had married) in their unjust demands. Agesilaus not only gratified the passion of his son, by'sparing the life of Sphodrias, whose death ought to have atoned for the injuries he had done the Athe- nians but he likewise screened Phoebidas, who was guilty of an egregious infraction of the league with the Thebans, and it was visibly for the sake of his crime that he took him into his protection. In short, whatever troubles Pompey j brought upon the Romans, either through igno- rance or a timorous complaisance for his friends, J Agesilaus brought as great distresses upon the 1 Spartans, through a spirit of obstinacy and resent- ment; for such was the spirit that kindled the Boeotian war. If, when we are mentioning their faults, we may take notice of their fortune, the Romans could have no previous idea of that of Pompey; but the Lacedaemonians were sufficiently fora- AGESILAUS AND POMPEY COMPARED. 433 warned of the danger of a lame reign, and yet Agesilaus would nol suffer them to avail them- selves of that warning.* Nay, supposing Leoty- chidas a mere stranger, and as much a bastard as he was; yet the family of Eurytion could easily have supplied Sparta with a king who was neither spurious nor maimed, had not Lysander been in- dustrious enough to render the oracle obscure for the sake of Agesilaus. As to their political talents, there never was a finer measure than that of Agesilans, when, in the distress of the Spartans how to proceed against the fugitives after the battle of Leuctra, he decreed that the laws should be silent for that day. We have nothing of Pornpey's that can possibly be compared to it. On the contrary, he thought him- self exempted from observing the laws lie' had made, and that his transgressing them showed his friends his superior power: whereas Agesilaus, when under a necessity of contravening the laws, lo save a number of cilizens, found out an expedient which saved both the laws and the criminals. I must also reckon among his political virtues, his inimitable behavior upon the receipt of the scy- tale, which ordered him to leave Asia in the hight of his success. For he did not, like Pompey, serve the commonwealth only in affairs which contributed to his own greatness; the good of his country was his great object, and, with a view to that, he renounced such power and so much glory as no man had either before or after him, except Alexander the Great. If we view them in another light, and consider their military performances; the trophies which Pompey erected were so numerous, the armies'he led so powerful, and the pitched battles he won so extraordinary, that I suppose Xenophon himself would not compare the victories of Agesilaus with them; though that historian, on account of his other excel [ericies, has been indulged the peculiar privilege of saying what he pleased of his hero. There was a difference too, I think, in their be- havior to their enemies, in point of equity and moderation. Agesilaus was bent upon enslaving Thebes, and destroyed Messene; the former the city from which his family sprung, the latter Sparta's sister colonyjf and in the attempt he was near ruining Sparta itself. On the other hand, Pompey, after he had conquered the pirates, be- stowed cities on such as were willing to change their way of life; and when he might have led Tigranes, king of Armenia, captive at the wheels of his chariot, he rather chose to make him an ally; on which occasion he made use of that me- morable expression, " I prefer the glory that will last forever, to that of a day." But if the pre-eminence in military virtue is to be decided by such actions and counsels as are most characteristical of the great and wise com- mander, we shall find that the Lacedemonian leaves the Roman far behind. In the first place. he never abandoned his city, though it was be- sieged by seventy thousand* men, while he had but a handful of men to oppose them with, and [t is true, the latter part of Agesilaus's reign was un- Vortunate, but the misfortunes were owing to his malice against the Thebans, and to his righting (contrary to tlu law* of Lycurgus) the same enemy so irequently, that he Is-Sight them to beat him at last. Nevertheless, the oracle, as we have observed in a for- n<or jte, probably meant the lameness of the kingdom, in having but one king, instead of two, and not the lameness of the king. t For Hercules was born at Thebes, and Messene was a colony of the Heraoiidae, as well as Sparta. The Latin ud French translations have mistaken the sense of this those lately defeated in the battle of Leuctra. But Pompey,* upon Cajsar's advancing with five thousand three hundred men only, and \aking one liitle town in Italy, left Rome in a panic; either meanly yielding to so trifling a force, or failing in his intelligence of their real numbers. In his flight he carried off his own wife and children, but he left those of the other citizens in a defense- less state; when he ought either to have stayed and conquered for his country, or to have accepted such conditions as the conqueror might impose, who was both his fellow-citizen and his relation. A little while before, he thought it insupportable to prolong the term of his commission, and to grant him another consulship; and now he suf- fered him to take possession of the city, and to tell Metellus, " That he considered him and all the other inhabitants, as his prisoners." If it is the principal business of a general to know how to bring the enemy to a battle when he is stronger, and how to avoid being compelled to one when he is weaker, Agesilaus understood that rule perfectly well, and, by observing it, con- tinued always invincible. But Pompey could never take Caesar at a disadvantage; on the con- trary, he suffered Caesar to take advantage of him, by being brought to hazard all in an action at land. The consequence of which was, that Cffi- sar became master of his treasures, his provisions, and the sea itself, when he might have preserved them all, had he known how to avoid a battle. As for the apology that is made for Pompey in this case, it reflect* the greatest dishonor upon a general of his experience. If a young oflicer had been so much dispirited and disturbed by the tumults and clamors among his troops, as to de- part from his better judgment, it would have been pardonable. But for Pompey the Great, whose camp the Romans called their country, and whose tent their senate, while they gave the name of rebels and traitors to those who stayed and acted as praetors and consuls in Rome; for Pompey, who had never been known to serve as a private sol- dier, but had made all his campaigns with the greatest reputation as general; for such a one to be forced, by the scoffs of Favonius and Dornitius, and the fear of being called Agamemnon, to risk the fate of the whole empire, and of liberty, upon the cast of a single die who can bear it? If he dreaded only present infamy, he ought to have made a stand at first, mid to have fought for the city of Rome: and not, after calling his flight a maneuver of Themistocles, to look upon the de- laying a battle in Thessaly as a dishonor. For the gods had not appointed the fields of Pharsalia as the lists in which he was to contend for the empire of Rome, nor was he summoned by a herald to make his appearance there, or otherwise forfeit the palm to another. There were innu- merable plains and cities; nay, his command ol the sea left the whole earth to his choice, had he been determined to imitate Maximus, Marius, or Lucullus, or Agesilaus himself. Agesilaus certainly had no less tumults to en- counter in Sparta, when the Thebans challenged him to come out and fight for his dominions: nor were the calumnies and slanders he met with in Egypt from the madness of the king less grating, age. 28 * Here is another egregious instance of Plutarch's preju- dice against the character of Pompey. It is certain that he left, not Rome until lie was well convinced of the impossi- bility of maintaining it against the arms of Caesar. For he was not only coming against it with a force much more powerful than is here mentioned, but he had rendered even a siege unnecessary, by a previous distribution of his gold among the 434 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. when he advised that prince to lie still for a time. Yet by pursuing the sage measures he had first fixed upon, ue not only saved the Egyptians in spite of themselves, but kept Sparta from sinking ill the earthquake that threatened her; nay, he erected there the best trophy imaginable against the Thebans; for by keeping the Spartans from their ruin, which they were so obstinately bent upon, he pu' : t in their power to conquer after- ward. Hence it was that Agesilaus was praised by the persons whom he had saved by violence; and Pompey, who committed an error in complai- sance to it. Some say, indeed, that he was de- ceived by his father-in-law Scipio, who, wanting to convert to his own use the treasures he had brought from Asia, had concealed them for that purpose, and hastened the action, under the pre- tense that the supplies would soon fail. But, sup. posing that true, a general should not have suf- fered himself to be so easily deceived, nor, iu consequence of being so deceived, have hazarded the loss of all. Such are the principal strokes that mark their military characters. As to their voyages to Egypt, the one fled thither out of necessity; the other, without any necessity or sufficient cause, listed himself in the service of a barbarous prince, to raise a fund for carrying on the war with the Greeks. So that if we accuse the Egyptians for their behavior to Pompey, the Egyptians blame Agesilaus as much for his behavior to them. The one was betrayed by those iu whom he put his trust; the other waa guilty of a breach of trust, in deserting those whom he went to support, and going over to their enemies. ALEXANDER. IN this volume we will give the lives of Alex- ander the Great, and of Caesar, who overthrew Pompey; and 5 as the quantity of materials was so great, we shall only premise, that we hope for in- dulgence though we do not give the actions in full detail and with a scrupulous exactness, but rather in a short summary; since we are not writing Histories, but Lives. Nor is it always iii the most distinguished achievements that men's vir- tues or vices may be best discerned; but often an action of small note, a short saying, or a jest, shall distinguish a person's real character more than the greatest sieges or the most important battles. Therefore, as painters in their portraits labor the likeness in the face, and particularly about the eyes, in which the peculiar turn of mind most appears, and run over the rest with a more careless hand; so we must be permitted to strike off the features of the soul, in order to give a real likeness of these great men, and leave to others the circumstantial detail of their lahors and achievements. It is allowed as certain, that Alexander was a descendant of Hercules by Caranus,* and of M&- cus by Neoptolemus. His father Philip is said to have been initiated, when very young, along with Olympias, in the mysteries of Sarnothrace: and having conceived an affection for her, he obtained her in marriage of her brother Arymbas, to whom he applied, because she was left an orphan. The night before the consummation of the marriage, she dreamed that a thunder-bolt fell upon her belly, which kindled a great fire, and that the flame extended itself far and wide before it disap- peared. And sometime after the marriage, Philip dreamed that Tie sealed up the queen's womb with a seal, the impression of which he thought was a lion. Most of the interpreters believed the dream announced some reason to doubt the honor of Olympias, and that Philip ought to look more closely to her conduct. But Aristander, of The- * Caranns, the sixteenth in descent from Hercules, made himself master of Macedonia in the year before Christ 794; and Alexander the Great was the twenty-second in dex.-ent Irom Caranus; so that from Hercules to Alexander there were thirty-eight generations. The descent by his mother's side is not so clear, there bein<: many degrees wanting in it. It is sufficient to know, that Olympian was the daughter of Neoptolemus, and sister to Arymbas. mesus, said, it only denoted that the queen was pregnant; for a seal is never put upon anything that is empty: and that the child would prove a boy, of a bold and lion-like courage. A serpent was also seen lying by Olympias as she sleptj which is said to have cooled Philip's affections for her more than anything, insomuch that he seldom repaired to her bed afterward; whether it was that he feared some enchantment from her, or abstain- ed from her embraces because he thought them taken up by some superior being. Some, indeed, relate the affair in another man- ner. They tell us, that the women of this country were, of old, extremely fond of the ceremonies of Orpheus, and the orgies of Bacchus; and that they were called Clodones and Mimallones, because in many things they imitated the Edonian and Thra- cian women about Mount Hsemus; from whom the Greek word threscuein seems to be derived, which signifies the exercise of extravagant and superstitious observances. Olympias being re- markably ambitious of these inspirations, and desirous of giving the enthusiastic solemnities a more strange and horrid appearance, introduced a number of large tame serpents, which, often creeping out of the ivy and the mystic fans, and entwining about the thyrsuses and garlands of the women, struck the spectators with terror. Philip, however, upon this appearance, sent Chiron, of Megalopolis, to consult the oracle at Delphi; and we are told, Apollo commanded him to sacrifice to Jupiter Anunon, and to pay Ins homage principally to that God. It is also said, he lost one of his eyes, which was that he applied to the chink of the door, when he saw the god in his wife's embraces in the form of a serpent. Ac- cording to Eratosthenes, Olympias, when she con- ducted Alexander on ht's way in his first expedi- tion, privately discovered to him the secret of his birth, and exhorted him to behave with a dignity suitable to his divine extraction. Others affirm, that she absolutely rejected it as an impious fiction, and used to say, "Will Alexander never leave embroiling me with Juno?" Alexander* was born on the sixth of Hecatom- * In the first year of the hundred and sixth Olympiad, ' before Christ 354. ALEXANDER. 435 boeon* [July], which the Macedonians call Lous, the same day that the temple of Diana at Ephesus was burned; upon which Hegesias the Magnesian, has uttered a conceit frigid enough to have extin- guished the flames. " It is no wonder," said he, " that the temple of Diana was burned, when she was at a distance, employed in bringing Alexander into the world." All the Magi who were then at Ephesus, looked upon the fire as a sign which betokened a much greater misfortune: they ran about the town, beating their faces, and crying, "That the day had brought forth the great scourge and destroyer of Asia." Philip had just taken the city of Potidaea,| and three messengers arrived the same day with extra- ordinary tidings. The first informed him, that Parmenio had gained a great battle against the Illyrians; the second, that his race-horse had won the prize at the Olympic games, and the third, that Olympias was brought to bed of Alexander. His joy on that occasion was great, as might na- turally be expected; and the soothsayers increased it, by assuring him, that his son, who was born in the midst of three victories, must of course prove invincible. The statues of Alexander, that most resembled him, were those of Lysippus, who alone had his permission to represent him in marble. The turn of his head, which leaned a little to one side, and the quickness of his eye, in which many of his friends and successors most affected to imitate him, were best hit off by that artist. Apelles painted him in the character of Jupiter, armed with thunder, but did not succeed as to his com- plexion. He overcharged the coloring, and made his skin too brown; whereas he was fair, with a tinge of red in his face and upon his breast. We read in the memoirs of Aristoxenus, that a most agreeable scent proceeded from his skin, and that his breath and whole body were so fragrant, that they perfumed his under garments. The cause of this might possibly be his hot temperament. For, as Theophrastus conjectures, it is the con- coction of moisture by heat which produces sweet odors; and hence it is that those countries which are driest, and most parched with heat, produce spices of the best kind, and in the greatest quan- tity; the suu exhaling from the surface of bodies that moisture which is the instrument of corrup- tion. It seems to have been the same heat of con- stitution which made Alexander so much inclined to drink, and so subject to passion. His continence showed itself at an early period; for, though he was vigorous, or rather violent in his other pursuits, he was not easily moved by the pleasures of the body, and if he tasted them, it was with great moderation. But there was some- thing superlatively great and sublime in his ambi- tion, far above his years. It was not all sorts of honor that he courted, nor did he seek it in every track, like his father Philip, who was as proud of his eloquence as any sophist could- be, and who had the vanity to record his victories in the Olympic * yElian (Var. Hist. 1. ii. c. 25.) says expressly, that Atexander was born and died on the sixth day of the month Thargelion. But supposing Plutarch right in placing his birth in the month HecatomhcBon, yet not that month, but BoJtlromion then answered to the Macedonian month Lous: as appears clearly from a letter of Philip's, still preserved in the Orations of Demosthenes (in Oral, de Corona). In aftertimes, indeed, the month Lous answered to Hecatom- b<Bon, which, without doubt, was the cause of Plutarch's mistake. t This is another mistake. Potidsea was taken two years before, viz., in the third year of the one hundred and third Olympiad; for which we have again the authority of Lemostiienes, who was Philip's conttm|orary (in <)m. <'o*u. LepUnein), as well as ul JHodoru* tioulu>, 1. xvi. chariot-race in the impression of his coins. Alex- ander, on the other hand, when he was asked by some of the people about him, "Whether he would not run in the Olympic race?" (for he was swift of foot), answered, " Yes, if I had kings for my antagonists." It appears that he had a perfect aversion to the whole exercise of wrestling.* For, though he exhibited many other sorts of games and public diversions, in which he proposed prizes for tragic poets, for musicians who practiced upon the flute and lyre, and for rhapsodists too, though he entertained the people with the hunting of all manner of wild beasts, and with fencing or fight- ing with the staff, yet he gave no encouragement to boxing or to the Pancratium.^ Ambassadors from Persia happening to arrive iu the absence of his father Philip, and Alexander receiving them in his stead, gained upon them greatly by his politeness and solid sense. He ask- ed them no childish or trifling question, but in- quired the distances of places, and the roads through the upper provinces of Asia; lie desired to be informed of the character of their king, in what manner he behaved to his enemies, and in what the strength and power of Persia consisted. The ambassadors were struck with admiration, and looked upon the celebrated shrewdness of Philip as nothing in comparison of the lofty and enterprising genius of his son. Accordingly, whenever news was brought that Philip had taken some strong town, or won some great battle, the young man, instead of appearing delighted with it, used to say to his companions, " My father will go on conquering, until there be nothing extraor- dinary left for you and me to do." As neither pleasure nor riches, but valor and glory were his great objects, he thought, that in proportion as the dominions he was to receive from his father grew greater, there would be less room for him to distinguish himself. Every new acquisition of territory he considered as a diminution of his scene of action; for he did not desire to inherit a kingdom that would bring him opulence, luxury, and pleasure; but one that would afford him wars, conflicts, and all the exercise of great ambition. He had a number of tutors and preceptors. Leonidas, a relation of the queen's, and a man of great severity of manners, was at the head of them. He did not like the name of preceptor, though the employment was important and honor- able; and, indeed, his dignity and alliance to the royal family, gave him the title of the prince's governor. He who had both the name and busi- ness of preceptor, was Lysimachus, the Acarna*- nian; a man who had neither merit nor politeness, nor anything to recommend him, but his calling himself Phoenix; Alexander, Achilles; and Philip, Peleus. This procured him some attention, and the second place about the prince's person. When Philonicus, the Thessalian, offered the horse named Bucephalus in sale to Philip, at the price of thirteen talents,t the king, with the * Philopo3men, like him, had an aversion for wrestling, because all the exercises which fit a man to excel in it mak him unfit for war. t If it be asked how this shows that Alexander did not love wrestling, the answer is, the Pancratium was a mixture of boxing and wrestling. t That is, 2518J. 15s. sterling. This will appear a mode- rate price, compared with what we find in Varro (de Re Rustic. 1. iii. c. 2.), viz., that d. Axius, a senator, gave four hundred thousand sesterces for an ass; and still more mod- erate, when compared with the account of Tavernier, thai some horses in Arabia were valued at a hundred thousand crowns. Pliny, in his Natural History, says, the price of Bucepha- lus was sixteen talents. Scdecum taltnti-a ftnint ex Philn- Jiici 1'ftarxaUi gregc cmptum. Js'at. Hit. lib. viii, cap 42. 436 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. prince and many others, went into the field to see some trial made of him. The horse appeared ex- tremely vicious and unmanageable, and was so far from suffering himself to be mounted, that he would not bear to be spoken to, but turned fiercely upon all the grooms. Philip was displeased at their bringing him so wild and ungovernable a horse, and bade them take him away. But Alex- ander, who had observed him well, said, "What a horse are they losing, for want of skill and spirit to manage him!" Philip at first took no notice of this; but, upon the prince's often repeating the same expression, and showing great uneasi- ness, he said, " Young man, you find fault with your elders, as if you knew more than they, or could manage the horse better." " And I certainly could," answered the prince. " If you should not he able to ride him, what forfeiture will you sub- mit to for your rashness?" "I will pay the price of the horse." Upon this all the company laughed, but the king and prince agreeing as to the forfeiture, Al- exander ran to the horse, and laying hold on the bridle, turned him to the sun; for he had observed, it seems, that the shadow which fell before the horse, and continually moved as he moved, greatly disturbed him. While his fierceness and fury lasted, he kept speaking to him softly and stroking him; after which he gently let fall his mantle, leaped lightly upon his back, and got his seat very safe. Then, without pulling the reins too hard, or using either whip or spur, he set him a-going. As soon as he perceived his uneasiness abated, and that he wanted only to run, he put him in a full gallop, and pushed him on both with the voice and spur. Philip and all his court were in great distress for him at first, and a profound silence took place. But when tlvs prince had turned him and brought him straight back, they all received him with loud acclamations^ except his father, who wept for joy, and, kissing .Am, said, "Seek another kingdom, my son, that may be worthy of thy abilities; for Macedonia is too small for thee." Perceiving that he did not easily submit to authority, because he would not be forced to anything, but that he might be led to his duty by the gentler hand of reason, he took the method of persuasion rather than of command. He saw that his education was a matter of too great importance to be trusted to the ordinary masters in music; and the com- mon circle of sciences; and that his genius (to use the expression of Sophocles) required The rudder's guidance and the curb's restraint. He therefore seat for Aristotle, the most cele- brated and learned of all the philosophers; and the reward he gave him for forming his son was not only honorable, but remarkable for its pro- priety. He had formerly dismantled the city of Stagira, where that philosopher was born, and now he re-built it, and re-established the inhabi- tants, who had either fled or been reduced to slavery.* He also prepared a lawn, called Mieza, for their studies and literary conversations; where they still show us Aristotle's stone seats, and shady walks. Alexander gained from him not only moral and political knowledge, but was also instructed in those more secret and profound branches of sci- ences, which they call acroamatic and epoptic, and which they did not communicate to every corn- * Pliny the elder and Valerius Maximus tell us, that Sta- r ; rrt WHS rebuilt hr Alexander, and this when Aristotle was very old. mon scholar.* For when Alexander was in Asia, and received information that Aristotle had pub- lished some books, in which those points were dis- cussed, he wrote him a letter in behalf of philo- sophy, in which he blamed the course he had taken. The following is a copy of it: "Alexander to Aristotle, prosperity. You did wrong in publishing the acroamntic parts of sci- ence/}- In what shall we differ from others, if the subiimer knowledge which we gained from you, be made common to all the world? For my part, I had rather excel the bulk of mankind iu the superior parts of learning than in the extent of power and dominion. Farewell." Aristotle, in compliment to this ambition of his, and by way of excuse for himself, made answer, "that those points were published, and not pub- lished." In fact, his book of metaphysics is written in such a manner, that no one can leara that branch of science from it, much less teach it others: it serves only to refresh the memories of those who have been taught by a master. It appears also to me, that it was by Aristotle rather than any other person, that Alexander was assisted in the study of physic, for he not only loved the theory, but the practice too, as is clear from his epistles, where we find that he prescribed to his friends medicines and a proper reyimen. He loved polite learning too, and his natural thirst of knowledge made him a man of extensive reading. The Iliad, he thought, as well as called, a portable treasure of military knowledge: and he had a copy corrected by Aristotle, which is called the casket copy.* Onesicritus informs us, that he used to lay it under his pillow with his sword. As he could not find many other books in the upper provinces of Asia, he wrote to Harpalui for a supply; who sent him the works of Philis- tus, most of the tragedies of Euripides, Sophocles, and ^Eschylus, and the Dithyrambics of Telestus and Philoxenus. Aristotle was the man he admired in his younger years, and, as he said himself, he had no less affection for him than for his own father " From the one he derived the blessing of life, from the other the blessing of a good life." But afterward he looked upon him with an eye of suspicion. He never, indeed, did the philosopher any harm; but the testimonies of his regard being neither so extraordinary nor so endearing as be- fore, he discovered something of a coldness. However, his love of philosophy, which he was either born with, or at least conceived at an early period, never quitted his soul; as appears from the honors he paid Anaxarchus, the fifty talents he sent Xeuocrates,|| and his attentions to Dandamia and C'alanus. When Philip went upon his expedition against Byzantium, Alexander was only sixteen years of * The scholars in general were instructed only in th exoteric doctrines. Vid. Aul. (fell. lib. xx. cap. v. t Doctrines taught by private communication, and deliv- ered viva voce. t He kept it in a rich casket, found among the spoils of Darins. A correctcopy of this edition, revised by Aristotle, Callisthenes, and Anaxarchus, was published after the death of Alexander. "Darius," said Alexander, "used to keep his ointments in this casket; but I, who have no time to anoint myself, will convert it to a nobler use." Telestus was a poet of some reputation, and a monu- ment was erected to his memory by Aristatus the Sycioman tyrant. Protogenes was sent for to paint this monument, and not arriving within the limited time, was in danger of the tyrant's displeasure; but the celerity and excellence of his execution saved him. Philoxenus was his scholar. Philistus was an historian often cited by Plutarch. II The philosopher took but a small part of this monfjr, and sent the rest back; telling the giver he had more occa- sion for it, because lie had more people to maintain. ALEXAND E R. 437 age, yet he was left regent of Macedonia and keeper of the seal. The Medari* rebelling during his regency, he attacked and overthrew them, took their city, expelled the barbarians, planted there a colony of people collected from various parts, and gave if. the name of Alexandropolis. He fought in the battle of Chaeronea against the Greeks, and is said to have been the first man that broke the sacred band of Thebans. In our times an old oak was shown near the Cephisus, called Alexanders oak, because his tent had been pitciied Under it; and a piece of ground at no great dis- tance, in which the Macedonians had buried their dead. This early display of great talents made Philip rery fond of his son, so that it was with pleasure he heard the Macedonians call Alexander king, and him only general. But the troubles which his new marriage and his amours caused in his family, and the bickerings among the women di- viding the whole kingdom into parties, involved him in many quarrels with his son; all which were hightened by Olympias, who, being a woman of a jealous and vindictive temper, inspired Alex- ander with unfavorable sentiments of his father. The misunderstanding broke out into a flame on the following occasion: Philip fell in love with a young lady named Cleopatra, at an unseasonable time of life, and married her. When they were celebrating the nuptials, her uncle Attains, intoxi- cated with liquor, desired the Macedonians to entreat the gods that this marriage of Philip and Cleopatra might produce a lawful heir to the crown. Alexander, provoked at this, said, " What then, dost thou take me for a bastard!" and at the same time he threw his cup at his head. Hereupon Philip rose up and drew his sword; but, fortunately for them both, his passion and the wine he had drank made him stumble, and he fell. Alexander, taking an insolent ad- vantage of this circumstance, said, " Men of Ma- cedoii, see there the man who was preparing to pass from Europe into Asia! he is not able to pass from one table to another without falling." After this insult, he carried off Olympias, and placed her in Epirus. lilyricum was the country he pitched upon for his own retreat. In the meantime, Demaratus, who had engage- ments of hospitality with the royal family of Ma- cedon, and who, on that account, could speak his mind freely, carne to pay Philip a visit. After the first civilities, Philip asked him "What sort of agreement subsisted among the Greeks!" De- maratus answered, " There is, doubtless, much propriety in your inquiring after the harmony of Greece, who have filled your own house with so much discord and disorder." This reproof brought Philip to himself, and through the medi- ation of Demaratus, he prevailed with Alexander to return. But another event soon disturbed their repose. Pexodorus, the Persian governor in Caria, being desirous to draw Philip into a league, offensive and defensive, by means of an alliance between their families, offered his eldest daughter in mar- riage to Aridaeus, the son of Philip, and sent Aristocritus into Macedonia to treat about it. Alexander's friends and his mother now infused notions into him again, though perfectly ground- less, that, by so noble a match, and the support consequent upon it, Philip designed the crown for Andasus. We know of no such people as the Medari; but a peo- ple calletl Msedi (here was in Thrace, who, as Livy tells us 0. xxvi.) u.eil to make inroads into Macedonia. Alexander, in the uneasiness theso suspicions gave him, sent one Thessalus, a player, into Ca- ria, to desire the grandee lo pass by Aridaaus, who was of spurious birth, and deficient in point of understanding, and to take the lawful heir to the crown into his alliance. Pexodorus was infinitely more pleased with this proposal. But Philip no sooner had intelligence of it, than he went to Alexander's apartment, taking along with him Philotas, the son of Parrnenio, one of his most intimate friends and companions, and, in his pre- sence, reproached him with his degeneracy and meanness of spirit, in thinking of being son-in- law to a man of Caria, one of the slaves of a bar- barian king. At the same time he wrote to the Corinthians,* insisting that they should send Thessalus to him in chains. Harpalus and Niar- chus, Phrygius and Ptolemy, some of the other companions of the prince, he banished. But Alexander afterward recalled them, and treated them with great distinction. Some time after the Carian negotiation, Pausa- nias being abused by order of Attalus and Cleo- patra, and not having justice done him for the outrage, killed Philip, who refused that justice. Olympias was thought to have been principally concerned in inciting the young man to that act of revenge; but Alexander did not escape uncen- sured. It is said that when Pausanias applied to him, after having been so dishonored, and lament- ed his misfortune, Alexander, by way of answer, repeated that line in the tragedy of Medea,-)- The bridal father, bridegroom, and the bride. It must be acknowledged, however, that he caused diligent search to be made after the persons con- cerned in the assassination, and took care to have them punished; and he expressed his indignation at Olympias's cruel treatment of Cleopatra in his absence. He was only twenty years old when he succeed- ed to the crown, and he found the kingdom torn in pieces by dangerous parties and implacable animosities. The barbarous nations, even those that bordered upon Macedonia, could not brook subjection, and they longed for their natural kings. Philip had subdued Greece by his victo- rious arms, J v ut not having had time to accustom her to the yoke, he had thrown matters into con- fusion, rather than produced any firm settlement, and he left the whole in a tumultuous state. The young king's Macedonian counselors, alarmed at the troubles which threatened him, advised him to give up Greece entirely, or at least to make no attempts upon it with the sword; and to recall the wavering barbarians in a mild manner to their duty, by applying healing measures to the begin- ning of the revolt. Alexander, on the contrary, was of opinion, that the only way to security, and a thorough establishment of his affairs, was to proceed with spirit and magnanimity. For he was persuaded, that if he appeared to abate of his dignity in the least article, he would be univer- sally insulted. He therefore quieted the commo tions, and put a stop to the rising wars among the barbarians, by marching with the utmost expedi- tion as far as the Danube, where he fought a great battle with Syrmus, king of the Triballi, and de- feated hirn. Some time after this, having intelligence that to Co * Thessalns, upon his return from Asia, must have retired Corinth; for the Corinthians had nothing to do in Caria. t The persons meant in the tragedy were Jason, Creusa, and Creon; and in Alexander's application of it, Philip is the bridegroom, Cleopatra the bride, and Attalus the fathei Cleopatra, the niece of Attalus, is by Arian called uiy- dice. 1. ii. c. 14. 438 PLUTARCH'S LIVES the Thebans had revolted, and that the Athenians had adopted the same sentiments, he resolved to shew them he was no longer a boy, and advanced imuiediately through the pass of Thermopylae. " Demosthenes," said he, "called me a boy, while I was in Illyricum, and among the Triballi, and a stripling when in Thessaly; but I will show him before the walls of Athens that I am a man." When he made his appearance before Thebes, he was willing to give the inhabitants time to change their sentiments. He only demanded Phoenix and Prothytes, the first promoters of the revolt, and proclaimed an amnesty to all the rest. But the Thebans, in their turn, demanded that he should deliver up to them Philotas and Antipater, and invited, by sound of trumpet, all men to join them who chose to assist in recovering the liberty of Greece. Alexander then gave the reins to the Macedonians, and the war began with great fury. The Thebans, who had the combat to maintain against forces vastly superior in number, behaved with a courage and ardor far above their strength. But when the Macedonian garrison fell down from Cadrnea, and charged them in the rear, they were surrounded on all sides, and most of them cut in pieces. The city was taken, plundered, and level- ed with the ground. Alexander expected that the rest of Greece, astonished and intimidated by so dreadful a punish- ment of the Thebans, would submit in silence. Yet he found a more plausible pretense for his severity; giving out that his late proceedings were intended to gratify his allies, being adopted in pursuance of complaints made against Thebes by the people of Phocis and Platrea. He exempted the priests, all that the Macedonians were bound to by the ties of hospitality, the posterity of Pin- dar, and such as had opposed the revolt: the rest he sold for slaves, to the number of thirty thou- sand. There were above six thousand killed in the battle. The calamities which that wretched city suffer- ed, were various and horrible. A party of Thra- cians demolished the house of Timoclea, a woman of quality and honor. The soldiers carried off the booty; and the captain, after having violated the lady, asked her whether she had not some gold and silver concealed. She said she had ; and taking him alone into the garden, showed him a well, into which, she told him, she had thrown every- thing of value, when the city was taken. The officer stooped down to examine the well; upon which she pushed him in, and then dispatched him with stones. The Thracians, coining up, seized and bound her hands, and carried her before Alexander, who immediately perceived by her look and gait, and the fearless manner in which she followed that savage crew, that she was a wo- man of quality and superior sentiments. The king demanded* who she was? She answered, " I am the sister of Theagenes, who, in capacity of general, fought Philip for the liberty of Greece, and fell in the battle of Chseronea." Alexander, admiring her answer and the bold action she had performed, commanded her to be set at liberty and her children with her. As for the Athenians, he forgave them; though they expressed great concern at the misfortune of Thebes. For, though they were upon the point of celebrating the feast of the great mysteries, they omitted it on account of the mourning that took place, and received such of the Thebans as escaped the general wreck, witli all imaginable kindness, into their city. But whether his fury, like that of a lion, was satiated with blood, or whether he had a mind to efface a most cruel and barbarous action by an act of clemency, he n*l only overlooked the complaints he had against them, but desired them to look well to their affairs, because if anything happened to him, Athens would give law to Greece. It is said the calamities he brought upon the Thebans gave him uneasiness long after, and on that account he treated many others with less rigor. It is certain he imputed the murder of Clitus, which he committed in his wine, and the Macedonians' dastardly refusal to proceed in the Indian expedition, through which his wars and his glory were left imperfect, to the anger of Bac- chus, the avenger of Thebes. And there was not a Theban who survived the fatal overthrow, thai was denied any favor he requested of him. Thus much concerning the Theban war. A general assembly of the Greeks being held at the Isthmus of Corinth, they came to a resolution to send their quotas with Alexander against the Persians, and he was unanimously elected captain- general. Many statesmen and philosophers came to congratulate him on the occasion; and he hoped that Diogenes of Sinope, who then lived at Corinth, would be of the number. Finding, however, that he made but little account of Alexander, and that he preferred the enjoyment of his leisure in a part of the suburbs called Cranium, he went to see him. Diogenes happened to be lying in the sun; and at the approach of so many people, he raised himself up a little, and fixed his eyes upon Alexan- der. The king addressed him in an obliging manner, and asked him, "If there was anything he could serve him in?" " Only stand a little out of my sunshine," said Diogenes. Alexander, we are told, was struck with such surprise at finding himself so little regarded, and saw something so great in that carelessness, that, while his courtiers were ridiculing the philosopher as a monster, he said, " If I were not Alexander, I should wish to be Diogenes." He chose to consult the oracle about the event of the war, and for that purpose went to Delphi. He happened to arrive there on one of the days called inauspicious, upon which the law permitted no man to put his question. At first he sent to the prophetess, to entreat her to do her office; but finding she refused to comply, and alleged the law in her excuse, he went himself, and drew her by force into the temple. Then, as if conquered by his violence, she said, "My son, thou art invincible." Alexander, hearing this, said, "He wanted no other answer, for he had the very oracle he de- sired." When he was on the point of setting out upon his expedition, he had many signs from the divine powers. Among the rest, the statue of Orpheus in Libethra,* which was of cypress wood, was in a profuse sweat for several days. The generality apprehended this to be an ill presage; but Aristau- der bade them dismiss their fears. " It signified," he said, " that Alexander would perform actions so worthy to be celebrated, that they would cost the poets and musicians much labor and sweat." As to the number of his troops, those that put it at the least, say he carried over thirty thousand foot and five thousand horse; and they who put it at the most, tell us his army consisted of thirty- four thousand foot and four thousand horse. The money provided for their subsistence and pay, ac- cording to Aristobulus, was only seventy talents; Durius says, he had no more than would maintain * This Libethra was in the country of the Odrysae in Thrace. But beside this city or mountain in Tiirpce, there was the Cave of the Nymphs of Libetbra on Mount llelicnv probably so denominated by Orpheus. ALEXANDER. them one month; but Onesicritus affirms, that he borrowed two hundred talents for that purpose. However, though his provision was so small, he oliose, at his embarkation, to inquire into the circumstances of his friends; and to one lie gave a farm, to another a village; to this the revenue of a borough, and to that of a post. When in this manner lie had disposed of almost all the estates of the crown, Perdiccas asked him, " What he had reserved for himself!" The king answered, 'Hope." "Well," replied Perdiccas, "we who share in your labors will also take part in your hopes." In consequence of which, he refused the estate allotted him, and some others of the king's friends did the same. As for those who accepted his offers, or applied to him for favors, he served them with equal pleasure; and by these means most of his Macedonian revenues were distributed and gone. Such was the spirit and disposition with which he passed the Hellespont. As soon as he landed, he went up to Ilium, where he sacrificed to Minerva, and offered liba- tions to the heroes. He also anointed the pillar upon Achilles's tomb with oil, and ran round it with his friends, naked, according to the custom that ob- tains; after which he put a crown upon it, declar- ing, " He thought that hero extremely happy, in having found a faithful friend while he lived, and after his death, an excellent herald to set forth his praise." As he went about the city to look upon the curiosities, he was asked, whether he chose to see Paris's lyre? "I set but little value," said he, *' upon the lyre of Paris; but it would give me pleasure to see that of Achilles, to which he sung the glorious actions of the brave."* In the meantime, Darius's generals had as- sembled a great array, and taken post upon the banks of the Granicus; so that Alexander was under the necessity of fighting there, to open the gates of Asia. Many of his officers were appre- hensive of the depth of the river, and the rough and uneven banks on the other side; and some thought a proper regard should be paid to a tra- ditionary usage with respect to the time; for the kings of Macedon used never to march out to war in the month Daisius. Alexander cured them of this piece of superstition, by ordering that month to be called the second Artemisius. And when Parmenio objected to his attempting a passage so late in the day, he said, " The Hellespont would blush, if after having passed it, he should be afraid of the Grauieus." At the same time he threw himself into the stream with thirteen troops of horse; and as he advanced in the face of the ene- my's arrows, in spite of the steep banks, which were lined with cavalry well armed, and. the rapidity of the river, which often bore him down or covered him with its waves, his motions seemed rather the effects of madness than sound sense. He held on, however, until, by great and surprising efforts, he gained the opposite banks, which the mud made extremely slippery and dangerous. When he was there, he was forced to stand an engagement with the enemy, hand in hand, and with great confu- sion on his part, because they attacked his men as fast as they came over, before he had time to form them. For the Persian troops charging with loud shouts, and with horse against horse, made good use of their spears, and when those were broken, of their swords. This alludes to that passage in the ninth book of the Iliad: "Amused at ease the godlike man they found, Pleased with the solemn harp's harmonious sound; With these h soothes his angry soul, and sings Til' immortal deeds of heroes and of kings." Pope. 439 Numbers pressed hard on Alexander, because he was easy to be distinguished, both by his buck- ler, and by his crest, on each side of which was a large and beautiful plume of white feathers. His cuirass was pierced by a javelin at the joint; but he escaped unhurt. After this, Rhcesaces and Spithridates, two officers of great distinction, attack- ed him at once. He avoided Spithridates with great address, and received Rhossaces with such a stroke of his spear upon his breastplate, that it broke it in pieces. Then he drew his sword to dispatch him, but his adversary still maintained the com- bat. Meantime, Spithridates came up on one side of him, and raising himself up on his horse, gave him a blow with his battle-axe, which cut off his crest with one side of the plume. Nay, the force of it was such, that the helmet could hardly resist it; it even penetrated to his hair. Spithridates was going to repeat his stroke, when the celebrated Clitus prevented him, by running him through the body with a spear. At the same time Alexan- der brought Rhoesaces to the ground with his sword. While the cavalry were fighting with so much fury, the Macedonian phalanx passed the river, and then the infantry likewise engaged. The enemy made no great or long resistance, but soon turned their backs and fled, all but the Grecian mercenaries, who, making a stand upon an emi- nence, desired Alexander to give his word of honor that they should be spared. But that prince, in- fluenced rather by his passion than his reason, instead of giving them quarter, advanced to attack them, and was so warmly received, that he had his horse killed under him. It was not, however, the famous Bucephalus. In this dispute he had more of his men killed and wounded than in all the rest of the battle; for here they had to do with experienced soldiers, who fought with a courage hightened with despair. The barbarians, we are told, lost in this battle twenty thousand foot and two thousand five hun- dred horse;* whereas Alexander had no more than thirty-four men killed,! nine of which were the infantry. To do honor to their memory, he erect- ed a statue to each of them in brass, the work- manship of Lysippus. And that the Greeks might have their share in the glory of the day, he sent them presents out of the spoil: to the Athenians in particular he sent three hundred bucklers. Upon therestof thespoils he put this pompous inscription, WON BV ALEXANDER THE SON OF PHILIP, AND THE GREEKS (EXCEPTING THE LACEDAEMONIANS), OF THK BARBARIANS IN ASIA. The greatest part of the plate, the purple furniture, and other things of that kind which he took from the Persians, he sent to his mother. This battle made a great and immediate change in the face of Alexander's affairs; insomuch that Sardis, the principal ornament of the Persian empire on the maritime side, made its submis- sion. All the other cities followed its example, except Halicarnassus and Miletus; tnese he took by storm, and subdued all the adjacent country. After this he remained some time in suspense as to the course he should take. One while he waa for going with great expedition, to risk all upon * Some manuscripts mention only ten thousand foot kill- ed, which is the number we have in Diodorns (505). Arrian (p. 45.) makes the number of horse killed only a thousand. t Arrian (47) says, there were about twenty-five of the king's friends killed; and of persons of less note, sixty horse and thirty foot. C. Curtius informs us it was only the twenty-five friends who had statues. They were erected at Dia, a city of Macedonia, from whence Q,. Metellus r moved them long after, and carried them to Rome. 440 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. the fate of one battle with Darius; another while he was for first reducing all the maritime pro- vinces; that when he had exercised and strength- ened himself by those intermediate actions and ac- quisitions, he might then march against that prince. There is a spring in Lycia, near the city of the Xuuthians, which, they tell us, at tiiat time turned its course of its own accord, and, over- flowing its banks, threw up a plate of brass, upon which were engraved certain ancient char- acters, signifying "Thai the Persian empire would one day come to a period and be destroyed by the Greeks." Encouraged by this prophesy, he hastened to reduce all the coast, as far as Pho3- nice* and Cilicia, His march through Pam- phylia has afforded matter to many historians for pompous description, as if it was by the interposi- of Heaven that the sea retired before Alexander, which at other times ran there with so strong a current, that the breaker-rocks at the foot of the mountain very seldom were left bare. Menan- der, in his pleasant way, refers to this pretended miracle in one of his comedies. How like great Alexander! do I seek A friend? Spontaneous he presents himself. Have I to march where sens indignant roll? The sea retires, and there I march. But Alexander himself, in his Epistles, makes no miracle of it;f he only says, "He marched from Phaselis, hy the way called Climax." He had stayed some time at Phaselis; and having found in the market-place a statue of Theodectes, who was of that place, hut then dead, he went out one evening when he had drank freely at supper, in masquerade, and cover- ed the statue with garlands. Thus in an hour of festivity, he paid an agreeable compliment to the memory of a man with whom he had former- ly had a connection, by means of Aristotle and philosophy. After this he subdued such of the Pisidians as had revolted, and conquered Phrygia. Upon taking Gordiurn, which is said to have been the seat of the ancient Midas, he found the famous chariot, fastened with cords, made of the bark of the cornel-tree, and was informed of a tradi- tion, firmly believed among the barbarians, "That the Fates had decreed the empire of the world to the man who should untie the knot." Most historians say that it was twisted so many private ways, and the ends so artfully concealed within, that Alexander, finding he could not untie it, cut it asunder with his sword, and so made many ends instead of two. But Aristobu- lus affirms, that he easily untied it, by taking out the pin which fastened the yoke to the beam, and then drawing out the yoke itself. His next acquisitions were in Paphlagonia and Cappadocia; and there news was brought * This Phceniee, as Palermius has ohserved, was a district of Lycia or Pamphylia. f There is likewise a passage in Strabo which fully proves that there was no miracle in it: "Near the city of Phaselis." tays he, "between Lycia and Pamphylia, there is a passage by the sea-side, through which Alexander marched his army. This passage is very narrow, and lies between the shore and the mountain Climax, which overlooks the Pamphy- lian sea. It is dry at low water, so that travelers pass through it with safety; but when the sea is high, it is over- flowed. It was then the winter season, and Alexander, who depended much upon his good fortune, was resolved to set out, without staying until the floods were abated, so that his men were forced to march np to their middle in water." Strabo, lib. xiv. Josephus refers to this passage of Alexander, to gain the more credit, among the Greeks and Romans, to the passage of the Israelites through the Red Sea. him of the death of Memnon,* who was the most respectable officer Darius had in the mari- time parts of his kingdom, and likely to have given the invader most trouble. This confirmed him in his resolution of marching into the upper provinces of Asia. By this time Darius had taken his departuie from Susa, full of confidence in his numbers, for his army consisted of no less than six hun- dred thousand combatants; and greatly encourag- ed beside by a dream, which the Magi had inter- preted rather in a manner they thought would please him than with regard to probability. He dreamed "That he saw the Macedonian phalanx all on fire, and that Alexander, in the dress which he, Darius, had formerly worn, when one of the king's couriers, acted as his servant; after which Alexander went into the temple of Belus, and there suddenly disappeared." By this Heaven seems to have signified, that prosperity and honor would attend the Macedonians; and that Alexander would become master of Asia, like Darius before him, who, of a simple courier, became a king; but that he would nevertheless soon die, and leave his glory behind him. Darius was still more encouraged by Alexan- der's long stay in Cilicia, which he looked upon as the effect of his fear. But the real cause of his stay was sickness, which some attribute to his great fatigues, and others to his bathing in the river Cydnus, whose water is extremely cold. His physicians durst not give him any medicines, because they thought themselves not so certain of the cure, as of the danger they must incur in the application; for they feared the Macedonians, if they did not succeed, would suspect them of some bad practice. Philip, the Acarnanian, saw how desperate the king's case was, as well as the rest; but, beside the confidence he had in his friendship, he thought it the highest ingratitude, when his master was in so much danger, not to risk something with him, in exhausting all his art for his relief. He therefore attempted the cure, and found no difficulty in persuading the king to wait with patience until his medicine was prepared, or to take it when ready; so de- sirous was he of a speedy recovery, in order to prosecute the war. In the meantime, Parmenio sent him a letter from the camp, advising him " To beware of Philip, whom," he said, "Darius had prevailed upon, by presents of infinite value, and the pro- mise of his daughter in marriage, to take him off by poison." As soon as Alexander had read the letter, he put it under his pillow, without show- ing it to any of his friends. The time appointed being come, Philip, with the king's friends, en- tered the chamber, having the cup which con- * Upon the death of Memnon, who had begun with great success to reduce the Greek islands, and was on he point of invading Eubcea, Darius was at a loss whom to employ. While he was in this suspense, Charidemus, an Athenian, who had served with great reputation under Philip of Mace- don, but was now very jealous for the Persian interest, at- tempted to set the king and his ministers right. "While you, Sir," said he to Darius, "are safe, the empire can never be in great danger. Let me, therefore, exhort yon never to expose your person, but to make choice of some able general to march against your enemy. One hundred thousand men will be more than sufficient, provided a third of them be mercenaries, to compel him to abandon this en- terprise; and if you will honor me with the command, 1 will be accountable for the success of what I advise." Da- rius was ready to accede to the proposal: but the Persian grandees, through envy, accused Charidemus of a treason- able design, and eftected his ruin. Darius repented in a few days, but it was then too late. That able counselof and general was condemned and executed. Diod. Sic. I xvii. Q. Curt. lib. iii. ALEXANDER. 441 tainod the medicine in his hand. The king received it freely, without the least marks of sus- picion, and at the same time put the letter in his hands. It was a striking situation, and more interesting than any scene in a tragedy ; the one reading while the other was drinking. They looked upon each other, but with a very different air. The king, with an open and unembarrassed aountenauce, expressed his regard for Philip, and the confidence he had in his honor; Philip's looks showed his indignation at the calumny. One while he lilted up his eyes and hands to heaven, protesting las fidelity; another while he threw himself do\v u by the bedside, entreating his mas- ter to be of good courage and trust to his care. The medicine, indeed, was so strong, and pver- powered his spirits in such a manner, that at first he was speechless, and discovered scarce any sign 3l' sense o'r life. But afterward he was soon relieved by this faithful physician,* and recovered so well that he was able to show himself to the Macedo- nians, whose distress did not abate until he came personally before them. There was in the army of Darius, a Macedo- nian fugitive, named Amyntas, who knew per- fectly well the disposition of Alexander. This man, perceiving that Darius prepared to march through the straits in quest of Alexander, begged of him to remain where he was, and take the ad- vantage of receiving an enemy, so much inferior to him in number, upon large and spacious plains. Darius answered, " He was afraid in that case the enemy would fly without coming to an action, and Alexander escape him." " If that is all you fear," replied the Macedonian, "let it give you no farther uneasiness; for he will come to seek you, and is already on his march." However, his representations had no effect: Da- rius set out for Cilicia; and Alexander was making for Syria in quest of him; but happen- ing to miss each other in the night, they both turned back; Alexander rejoicing in his good fortune, and hastening to meet Darius in the straits; while Darius endeavored to disengage himself, and recover his former camp. For, by this time, he was sensible of his error in throw- ing himself into ground, hemmed in by the sea on one side, and the mountains on the other, and intersected by the river Pinarus; so that it was impracticable for cavalry, and his infantry could only act in small and broken parties, while, at the same time, this situation was extremely con- venient for the enemy's inferior numbers. Thus fortune befriended Alexander as to the scene of action, but the skillful disposition of his forces contributed still more to his gaining the victory. As his army was very small in com- parison of that of Darius, he took care to draw it up so a> to prevent its being surrounded, by Btretchiug out his right wing farther than the enemy's left. In that wing he acted in person, and, fighting in the foremost ranks, put the bar- barians to flight. He was wounded, however, in th' thigh, and, according to Chares, by Darius, who engaged him hand-to-hand. But Alexander, in the account he gave Antipater of the battle, does not mention who it was that wounded him. He only says, he received a wound in his thigh by a sword, and that no dangerous consequences followed it. The victory was a very signal one; for he killed above a hundred and ten thousand of the enemy. f Nothing was wanting to complete it * In three Jays' time. t Diodorus says a hundred and thirty thousand. but the taking of Darius; and that prince escaped narrowly, having got the start of his pursuer only by four 3r five furlongs. Alexander took his chariot and his bow, and returned with tnem to his Macedonians. He found them loading themselves with the plunder of the enemy"* camp, which was rich and various; though Da- rius, to make his troops fitter for action, had left nost of the baggage in Damascus. The Mace- donians had reserved for their master, the tent of Darius, in which he found officers of the household magnificently clothed, rich furniture, and great quantities of gold and silver. As soon as he had put off his armor, he went to the bath, saying to those about him, " Let us jo and refresh ourselves, after the fntigues of the field, in the bath of Darius." " Nay. rather," said one of his friends, "in the bath of Alexan- der; for the goods of the conquered are, and shall be called, the conqueror's." When he had taken a view of the basins, vials, boxes, and other vases curiously wrought in gold, smelled the fragrant odors of essences, and seen the splendid furni- ture of spacious apartments, he turned to his friends, and said, " This, then, it seems, it was to be a king!"* As he was sitting down to table, an account was brought him, that among the prisoners were the mother and wife of Darius, and two unmarried daughters; and that upon seeing his chariot and bow, they broke out into great lamentations, con- cluding that he was dead. Alexander, after some pause, during which he was rather commiserating their misfortunes, tnan rejoicing in his own suc- cess, sent Leonatus to assure them, "That Darius was not dead; that they had nothing to fear from Alexander, for his dispute with Darius was only for empire; and that they should find themselves provided for in the same manner as when Darius was in his greatest prosperity." If this message to the captive princesses was gracious and humane, his actions were still more so. He allowed them to do the funeral honors lo what Persians they pleased, and for that purpose furnished them out of the spoils with robes, and all the other decora- tions that were customary. They had as many domestics, and were served, in all respects, in as honorable a manner as before; indeed, their ap- pointments were greater. But there was another part of his behavior to them still more noble and princely. Though they were now captives, he considered that they were ladies, not only of high rank, but of great modesty and virtue, and took care that they should not hear an indecent word, nor have the least cause to suspect any danger to their honor. Nay, as if they had been in a holy temple, or asylum of virgins, rather than in an enemy's camp, they lived unseen and unapproach- ed, in the most sacred privacy. It is said, the wife of Darius was one of the most beautiful women, as Darius was one of the tallest and handsomest men in the world, and that their daughters much resembled them. But Alex- ander, no doubt, thought it more glorious and worthy of a king to conquer himself than to sub- due his enemies, and therefore never approached one of them. Indeed, his continence was such, that he knew not any woman before his marriage, except Barsine, who became a widow by the death of her husband Memnon, and was taken prisoner near Damascus. She was very well versed in the Greek literature, a woman of the most agreeable * As if he had said, "Could a king place his happiness in such enjoyments as these?" For Alexander was not, UDtiJ long alter this, corrupted by the Persian luxury. 442 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. temper, and of royal extraction; for her father Artabazus was grandson to a king of Persia.* According to Aristobulus, it was Parmenio that put Alexander upon this connection with so ac- complished a woman, whose beauty was her least perfection. As for the other female captives, though they were tall and beautiful, Alexander took no farther notice of them than to say, by way of jest, " What eye-sores these Persian wo- men are!" He found a counter-charm iu the beauty of self-government and sobriety; and, in the strength of that, passed them by, as so many statues. Philoxenus, who commanded his forces upon the coast, acquainted him by letter, that there was one Theodorus, a Tarentine, with him, who had two beautiful boys to sell, and desired to know whether he chose to buy them. Alexander was so much incensed at this application, that he asked his friends several times, "What base inclinations Philoxenus had ever seen in him, that he durst make him so infamous a proposal? " In his an- swer to the letter, which was extremely severe upon Philoxenus, he ordered him to dismiss Theo- dorus and his vile merchandise together. He like- wise reprimanded young Agnon, for offering to purchase Crobylus for him, whose beauty was fa- mous in Corinth. Being informed that two Mace- donians, named Damon and Timotheus, had cor- rupted the wives of some of his mercenaries who served under Parmenio, he ordered that officer to inquire into the affair, and if they were found guilty, to put them to death, as no better than savages bent on the destruction of human kind. In the same letter, speaking of his own conduct, he expresses himself in these terms: " For my part, I have neither seen, nor desired to see, the wife of Darius; so far from that, I have not suf- fered any man to speak of her beauty before me." He used to say, that sleep and the commerce with the sex were the things that made him most sen- sible of his mortality." For he considered both weariness and pleasure as the natural effects of our weakness. He was also very temperate in eating. Of this there are many proofs; and we have a remarkable one in what he said to Ada, whom he called his mother, and had made queen of Caria.f Ada, to express her affectionate regards, sent him every day a number of excellent dishes and a handsome dessert; and at last she sent him some of her best cooks and bakers. But he said, " He had no need of them; for he had been supplied with better cooks by his tutor Leonidas; a march before d to dress his dinner, and a light dinner to prepare his supper." He added, that " the same Leonidas used to examine the chests and wardrobes in which his bedding and clothes were put, lest some- thing of luxury and superfluity should be intro- duced there by his mother." Nor was he so much addicted to wine as he was thought to be. It was supposed so, because he passed a great deal of his time at table; but that was spent rather in talking than drinking; every cup introducing some long discourse. Beside, he never made these long meals but when he had abundance of leisure upon his hands. When business called, he was not to be detained by * Son to a king of Persia's daughter. t This princess, after the death of her eldest, brother Man solus, and his consort Artemisia, who died without childrei succeeded to the throne, with her brother Hidreus, to whom she had been married. Hidreus dying before her, Pexodo rns, her third brother, dethroned her, and, after his death his son-in-law, Orontes, seized the crown. But Alexande restored her to the possession of her dominions. ine, or sleep, or pleasure, or honorable love, or he most entertaining spectacle, though the mo- ons of other generals have been retarded by ome of these things. His life sufficiently con- rrns this assertion; for, though very short, he erformed in it innumerable great actions. On his days of leisure, as soon as he was risen e sacrificed to the gods; after which he took his inner sitting. The rest of the day he spent in unting, or deciding the differences among his roops, or in reading and writing. If he was pon a march which did not require haste, he vould exercise himself in shooting and darting he javelin, or in mounting and alighting from a hariot at full speed. Sometimes also he diverted imself with fowling and fox-hunting, as we find y his journals. On his return to his quarters, when he went to )e refreshed with the bath and with oil, he in- uired of the stewards of his kitchen, whether hey had prepared everything in a handsome man- er for supper. It was not until late in the even- ng, and when night was come on. that he took his meal, and then he eat in a recumbent posture. le was very attentive to his guests at table, that hey might be served equally, and none neglected, lis entertainments, as we have already observed, asted many hours; but they were lengthened out alher by conversation than drinking. His con- 'ersation, in many respects, was more agreeable ban that of most princes, for he was not deficient n the graces of society. His only fault was his etaining so much of the soldier* as to indulge a roublesome vanity. He would not only boast of lis own actions, but suffered himself to be ca- oled by flatterers to an amazing degree. These wretches were an intolerable burden to the rest of he company, who did not choose to contend with hem in adulation, nor yet to appear behind them n their opinion of their king's achievements. As to delicacies, he had so little regard for them, hat when the choicest fruit and fish were brought him from distant countries and seas, he would send some to each of his friends, and he very often eft none for himself. Yet there was always a magnificence at his table, and the expense rose with his fortune, until it came to ten thousand drachmas for one entertainment. There it stood; and he did not suffer those that invited him to ex- ceed that sum. After the battle of Issus he sent to Damascus, and seized the money and equipages of the Per- sians, together with their wives and children. On that occasion the Thessalian cavalry enriched themselves most. They had, indeed, greatly dis- tinguished themselves in the action, and they were favored with this commission, that they might have the best share in the spoil. Not but the rest of the arrny found sufficient booty; and the Macedonians having once tasted the treasures and the luxury of the barbarians, hunted for the Per- sian wealth with all the ardor of hounds upon scent. It appeared to Alexander a matter of great impor- tance, before he went farther, to gain the maritime powers. Upon application, the kings of Cypius and Phoenicia made their submission: only Tyre held out. He besieged that city seven months, during which time he erected vast mounts of earth, plied it with his engines, and invested it on the side next the sea with two hundred galleys. He had a dream, iu which he saw Hercules offering him * The ancients, in their comic pieces, used always to put the rhodomontades in the character of a soldier. At present the army have as little vanity as any set of people what- ever. ALEXANDER 443 his hand from the wall, and inviting him to enter. And many of the Tyrians dreamed,* "That Apollo declared he would go over to Alexander, because he was displeased with their behavior in the town." Hereupon, the Tyrians, as if the god had been a deserter taken in the fact, loaded his statue with chains, and nailed the feet to the pedestal; not scrupling to call him an Alexandrist. In another dreum, Alexander thought he saw a satyr playing before him at some distance; and when lie advanced to take him the savage eluded his grasp. However, at last, after much coaxing and taking many circuits round him, he prevailed with him to surrender himself. The interpreters, plausibly enough, divided the Greek term for satyr into two, Sa Tyros, which signifies Tyre is thin/e. They still show us a fountain, near which Alex- ander is said to have seen that vision. About the middle of the siege he made an ex- cursion against the Arabians, who dwelt about Antilibanus. There he ran a great risk of his life, on account of his preceptor Lysimachus, who in- sisted on attending him; being, as he alleged, nei- ther older nor less valiant than Phoenix. But when they came to the hills, and quitted their horses, to march up on foot, the rest of the party got far before Alexander and Lysimachus. Night came on, and, as the enemy was at no great dis- tance, the king would not leave his preceptor, borne down with fatigue and the weight of years. Therefore, while he was encouraging and helping him forward, he was insensibly separated from his troops, and had a dark and very cold night to pass in an exposed and dismal situation. In this perplexity, he observed at a distance a number of scattered fires which the enemy had lighted; and, depending upon his swiftness and activity, as well as accustomed to extricate the Macedonians out of every difficulty, by taking a share in the labor and danger, he ran to the next fire. After having killed two of the barbarians that sat watching it, he seized a lighted brand, and hastened with it to his party, who soon kindled a great fire. The sight of this so intimidated the enemy that man}' of them fled, and those who ventured to attack him were repulsed with considerable loss. By this means he passed the night in safety, accord- ing to the account we have from Chares. As for the siege, it was brought to a termina- tion in this manner. Alexander had permitted hie main body to repose themselves, after the long and severe fatigues they had undergone, and or- dered only some small parties to keep the Tyrians in play. In the meantime, Aristander, his prin- cipal soothsayer, offered sacrifices, and one day, Upon inspecting the entrails of the victim, he boldly asserted among those about him that the city would certainly be taken that month. As it happened then to be the last day of the month, his assertion was received with ridicule and scorn. The king perceived he was disconcerted, and making it a point to bring the prophesies of his ministers to completion, gave orders that the day should not be called the thirtieth, but the twenty- eighth of the month. At the same time, he called out his forces by sound of trumpet, and made a much more vigorous assault than he at first in- tended. The attack was violent, and those who * One of the Tyrians dreamed, he saw Apollo flying from the city. Upon his reporting this to the people they would have stoned him, supposing that he did it to intimi- date them. He was obliged, therefore, to take refuge in Ihe temple of Hercules. But the magistrates, upon mature deliberation, resolved to fix one end of a gold chain to the statue of Apollo, and the ether to the altar of Hercules. *>iodor. Sic. lib xvi. 1. were left behind in the camp, quitted it to have a share in it, and to support their fellow-soldiers; insomuch that the Tyrians were forced to give out, and the city was taken that very day. From thence he marched into Syria, and laid siege to Gaza, the capital of that couniry. While he was employed there, a bird, as it flew by, let fall a clod of earth upon his shoulder, and then going to perch on the cross-cords with which they turned the engines, was entangled and taken. The event answered Aristander's interpretation of this sign: Alexander was wounded iu the shoulder, but he took the city. He sent most of his spoils to Olympias and Cleopatra, and others of his friends. His tutor, Leonidas, was not for gotten; and the present he made him had some- thing particular in it. It consisted of five hun- dred talents weight of frankincense,* and a hun- dred of myrrh, and was sent upon the recollection of the hopes he had conceived when a boy. It seems Leonidas one day had observed Alexander at a sacrifice, throwing incense into the fire by handfuls; upon which he said, "Alexander, when you have conquered the country where spices grow, you may be thus liberal of your incense; but, in the meantime, use what you have more sparingly." He, therefore, wrote thus: " I have sent you frankincense and myrrh in abundance, that you may be no longer a churl to the gods." A casket being one day brought him, which ap- peared one of the most curious and valuable things among the treasures and the whole equipage of Darius, he asked his friends what they thought most worthy to be put in it? Different things were proposed, but he said, "The Iliad most deserv- ed such a case." This particular is mentioned by several writers of credit. And if what the Alex- andrians say upon the faith of Heraclides, be true, Homer was no bad auxiliary, or useless counselor, in the course of the war. They tell us, that when Alexander had conquered Egypt, and determined to build there a great city, which was to be peo- pled with Greeks, and called after his own name, by the advice of his architects he had marked out a piece of ground, and was preparing to lay the foundation; but a wonderful dream made him fix upon, another situation. He thought a person with gray hair, and a very venerable aspect, ap- proached him, and repeated the following lines: High o'er a gulfy sea the Parthian Isle Fronts the deep 'roar of disemboguing Nile. Pope. Alexander, upon this, immediately left his bed, and went to Pharos, which at that time was an island lying a little above the Canobic mouth of the Nile, but now is joined to the continent by a causeway. He no sooner cast his eyes upon the place, than he perceived the commodiousness of the situation. It is a tongue of land, not unlike an isthmus, whose breadth is proportionable to its length. On one side it has a great lake, and on the other the sea, which there forms a capacious harbor. This led him to declare, that " Homer, among his other admirable qualifications, was an excellent architect," and he ordered a city to be planned suitable to the ground, and its appendant conveniences. For want of chalk, they made use of flour, which answered well enough upon a black soil, and they drew a line with it about the semicircular bay. The arms of this semicircle * The common Attic talent in Troy weight was 56 Ib. Hot. 17 gr. This talent consisted of 50 minut; but there was an other Attic talent, by some said to consist of 80, by others of 100 mints. The mime was lloz. 1 duct IGgr. The taientof Alexandria was 104M. IQdwt. Ugr. 444 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. were terminated by straight lines, so that the whole was in the form of a Macedonian cloak. While the king was enjoying the design, on a sudden an infinite number of large birds of vari- ous kinds, rose, like a. black cloud, out of the river and the luke, and lighting upon the place, ate up all the flour that was used in marking out the lines. Alexander was disturbed at the omen; but the diviners encouraged him to proceed, by assur- ing him it was a sign that the city he was going to build would be blest with such plenty as to fur- nish a supply to those that should repair to it from ther nations. The execution of the plan he left to his archi- tects, and went to visit the temple of Jupiter Am- mon. It was a long and laborious journey;* and beside the fatigue, there were two great dangers attending it. The one was, that their water might fail, in a desert of many days' journey, which af- forded no supply; and the other, that they might be surprised by a violent south wind amidst the wastes of sand, as it happened long before to the army of Cambyses. The wind raised the sand, and rolled it in such waves, that it devoured full fifty thousand men. These difficulties were con- sidered and represented to Alexander; but it was not easy to divert him from any of his purposes. Fortune had supported him in such a manner, thnl his resolutions were become invincibly strong; and his courage inspired him with such spirit of adventure, that he thought it not enough to be victorious in the field, but he must conquer both time and place. The divine assistance which. Alexander experi- enced in his march, met with more credit than the oracles delivered at the end of it; though those ordinary assistances, in some measure, confirmed the oracles. In the first place, Jupiter sent such a copious and constant rain, as not only delivered them from ull fear of suffering by thirst, but, by moistening the sand, and making it firm to the foot, made the air clear, and fit for respiration. In the next place, when they found the marks which were to serve for guides to travelers removed or defaced, and in consequence wandered up and down without any certain route, a flock of crows made their appearance, and directed them in the way. When they marched briskly on, the crows flew with equal alacrity; when they lagged behind, or halted, the crows also stopped. What is still stranger. Callisthenes avers, that at night, when they happened to be gone wrong, these birds call- ed them by their croaking, and put them right again. When he had passed the desert, and was ar- rived at the place, the minister of Amrnon re- ceived him with salutations from the god, as from a father. And when he inquired " Whether any of the assassins of his father had escaped him?" the priest desired he would not express him- self in that manner, "for his father was not a mortal." Then he asked, " Whether all the mur- derers of Philip were punished; and whether it was given the proponent to be the conqueror of the world?" Jupiter answered, " That he grant- * As to his motives in this journey, historians disagree. Arrian (I. iii. c. 3.) tells us, he took it in imitation of Per- seus and Hercules, the former of which had consulted that oracle, when he was dispatched against the Gordons; and the latter twice, viz., when he went into Libya against Antseus, and when he marched into Egypt against Busiris. Now, as Perseus and Hercules gave themselves out to be the sons of the Grecian Jupiter, so Alexander had a mind to take Jupiter Ammon for his father. Maximus Tyrius (Serm. xxv ) informs us, that he went to discover the foun- tains of the Nile; and Justin. (1. xi. c. 11.) says the inten- tion of this visit was to clear up his mother's character, and to get himself the reputation of a divine origin. ed him that high distinction; and that the death of Philip was sufficiently avenged." Upon this, Alexander made his acknowledgments to the god by rich offerings, and loaded the priests with pre- sents of great value. This is the account most historians give us of the affair of the oracle; but Alexander himself, in the letter he wrote to his mother on that occasion, only says, " He received certain private answers from the oracle, which he would communicate to her, and to her only, at his return." Some say, Ammon's prophet being desirous to address him in an obliging manner in Greek, in- tended to say, O Paidion, which signifies, My Son; but in his barbarous pronunciation, made the word end wilh an s, instead of an n, and so said, O pai dios, which signifies, O Son of Jupiter. Alexander (they add) was delighted with the mis- take in the pronunciation, and from that mistake was propagated a report, that Jupiter himself had called him his son. He went to hear Psammo, an Egyptian philoso- pher, and the saying of his that pleased him most was, "That all men are governed by God, for in everything that which rules or governs is divine." But Alexander's own maxim was more agreeable to sound philosophy: he said, "God is the com- mon father of men, but more particularly of the good and the virtuous." When among the barbarians, indeed, he affected a lofty port, such as might suit a man perfectly convinced of his divine original; but it WHS iu a small degree, and with great caution, that he as- sumed anything of divinity among the Greeks- We must except, however, what he wrote to the Athenians concerning Samos. " It was not I who gave you that free and famous city, but your then Lord, who was called my father," meaning Philip.* Yet long after this, when he was wounded with an arrow, and experienced great torture from it, he said, "My friends, this is blood, and not the ichor 'Which blest immortals shed.'" One day it happened to thunder in such a dreadful manner, that it astonished all that heard it; upon which Anaxarchus the sophist, being in company with him, said, "Son of Jupiter, could you do so?" Alexander answered, with a smile, " I do not choose to be so terrible to my friends as you would have me, who despise rny entertain- ments, because you see fish served up, and not the heads of Persian grandees." It seems the king had made Hephsestion a present of some small fish, and Anaxarchus observing it, said, "Why did he not rather send you the heads of princes?"f intimating how truly despicable those glittering things are which conquerors pursue with so much danger and fatigue; since, after all, their enjoy- ments are little or nothing superior to those of other men. It appears, then, from what has been said, that Alexander neither believed, nor was He knew the Athenians were sunk into such meanness that they would readily admit his pretensions to divinity. So afterward they deified Demetrius. t Diogenes imputes this saying of Anaxarchus to the aversion he had for Nicocreon, tyrant of Salamis. Accor ding to him, Alexander having one day invited Anaxarchu* to dinner, asked him how he liked his entertainment? "It is excellent," replied the guest, "it wants but. one dish, and that a delicious one, the head of a tyrant." Not the heads of the Satrapte, or governors of provinces, as it is in Plutarch. If the Philosopher really meant the head of Ni- cocreon, he paid dear for his saying afterward; for after the death of Alexander, he was forced by contrary winds upon the coast of Cyprus, where the tyrant seized him, and pat him to death. ALEXANDER. 445 dated with, the notion of his divinity, but that he only made use of it as a means to bring others into subjection. At his return from Egypt to Phoenicia, he hon- ored the gods with sacrifices and solemn proces- sions; on which occasion the people were enter- tained with music and dancing, and tragedies were presented in the greatest perfection, not only in respect of the magnificence of the scenery, but the spirit of emulation in those who exhibited them. In Athens persons are chosen by lot out of the tribes to conduct those exhibitions; but in this case the princes of Cyprus vied with each other with incredible ardor; particularly Nico- creou, king of Salami*, and Pasierutes, king of Soli. They chose the most celehrated actors that could be found; Pasierates risked the victory upon Athenodorus, and Nicocreon upon Thessalus. Alexander interested himself particularly in be- half of the latter; but did not discover his attach- ment, until Athenodorus was declared victor by all the suffrages. Then, as he left the theater, he said, " I commend the judges for what they have done; but I would have given half my kingdom rather than have seen Thessalus conquered." However, when Anthenodorus was fined by the Athenians for not making his appearance on their stage at the feasts of Bacchus, and entreated Al- exander to write to them in his favor; though he refused to comply with that request, he paid his fine for him. Another actor, named Lycon, a native of Scarpnia, performing with great applause before Alexander, dexterously inserted in one of the speeches of the comedy, a verse in which he asked him for ten talents. Alexander laughed and gave him them. It was about this time that he received a letter from Darius, in which the prince proposed, on condition of a pacification and future friendship, to pay him ten thousand talents in ransom of the prisoners, to cede to him all the countries on this side the Euphrates, and to give him his daughter in marriage. Upon his communicating these pro- posals to his friends, Parmenio said, " If I were Alexander, I would accept them." "So would I," said Alexander,* " if I were Parmenio." The answer he gave Darius was, " That if he would come to him, he should find the best of treatment; if not, he must go and seek him." In consequence of this declaration he began his march; but he repented that he had set out so soon, when he received information that the wife of Darius was dead. That princess died in child- bed ; and the concern of Alexander was great, because he lost an opportunity of exercising his clemency. All he could do was to return and bury her with the utmost magnificence. One of the eunuchs of the bed-chamber, named Tireus, who was taken prisoner along with the princesses, at this time made his escape out of the camp, and rode off to Darius, with news of the queen's death. Darius smote upon his head, and shed a torrent of tears. After which he cried out, "Ah! cruel destiny of the. Persians! Was the wife and sister of the king, not only to be taken captive, but after her death to be deprived of the obsequies due to her high rank!" The eunuch answered, "As to her obsequies, king, and all the honors the queen had a right to claim, there is no reason to blarne the evil genius of the Persians. For neither my mistress, Statira, during her life, or your royal mother, or children, missed any of the advantages * Longinus takes notice of this as an instance, that it is *tnra! for men of genius, even in their common discourse, to let tall something great and sublime. of their former fortune, except the beholding tho light of your countenance, which the great Oro- masdes* will again cause to shine with as much luster as before. So far from being deprived of any of the solemnities of a funeral, the queen was honored with the tears of her very enemies. For Alexander is as mild in the use of his victories, as he is terrible in battle." On hearing this, Durius was greatly moved, and strange suspicions took possession of his soul. He took the eunuch into the most private apart- ment of his pavilion, and said, " If thou dost not revolt to the Macedonians, as the fortune of Persia has done, but still acknowledges! in me thy lord; tell me, as thou honorest the light of Mithra, and the right hand of the king, is not the death of Statira the least of her misfortunes I have to la- ment? Did not she suffer more dreadful things while she lived? And, amidst all our calamities, would not our disgrace have been less, had we met with a more rigorous and savagn enemy] For what engagement in the compass of virtue could bring a young man to do such honor to the wife of his enemy?" While the king was yet speaking, Tireus humbled his face to the earth, and entreated him not to make use of expressions so unworthy of himself, so injurious to Alexander, and so dishon- orable to the memory of his deceased wife and sister; nor to deprive himself of the greatest of consolations in his misfortune, the reflecting that he was not defeated but by a person superior to human nature. He assured him, that Alexander was more to be admired for the decency of hia behavior to the Persian women, than for the valor he exerted against the men. At the same time, he confirmed all that he had said with the most awful oaths, and expatiated still more on the regu- larity of Alexander's conduct, and on his dignity of mind. Then Darius returned to his friends; and lifting up his hands to heaven, he said, " Ye gods, who are the guardians of our birth, and the protectors of kingdoms, grant that I may re-establish the fortunes of Persia, and leave them in the glory I found them; that victory may put it in my power to return Alexander the favors, which my dearest pledges experienced from him in my fall I but if the time determined by fate and the divine wrath, or brought by the vicissitude of things, is now come, and the glory of the Persians must fall, may none but Alexander sit on the throne of Cyrus! " In this manner were things conducted, and such were the speeches uttered on this occa- sion, according to the tenor of history. Alexander having subdued all on this side the Euphrates, began his march against Darius, who had taken the field with a million of men. During this march, one of his friends mentioned to him, as a matter that might divert him, that the ser- vants of the army had divided* themselves into two bands, and that each had chosen a chief, one of which they called Alexander, and the other Darius. They began to skirmish with clods, and afterward, fought with their fists; and, at last heated with a desire of victory, many of them came to stones and sticks, insomuch that they could hardly be parted. The king, upon this report ordered the two chiefs to fight in single combat, and armed Alexander with his own hands, while Philolas did the same for Darius. The whole army stood and * Oromasdes was worshiped by the Persians as th Author of all Good, and Jlrimanius deemed the Author of Evil; agreeably to the principles from which they were be- lieved to spring, Light and Darkness, The I'ersiau whtors \ call them 1'crdan a 446 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. looked on, considering the event of this combat, as a presage of the issue of the war. The two champions fought with great fury; but he who bore the name of Alexander, proved victorious. He was rewarded with a present of twelve villages, and allowed to wear a Persian robe, as Eratosthe- nes tells the story. The great battle with Darius was not fought at Arbela,* as most historians will have it, but at Gaugamela, which, in the Persian tongue, is said to signify the house of the camel rf so called, be- cause one of tlie ancient kings having escaped his enemies by the swiftness of his camel, placed her there, and appointed the revenue of certain vil- lages for her maintenance. In the month of September there happened an eclipse of the moon,} about the beginning of the festival of the great mysteries at Athens. The eleventh night after that eclipse, the two armies being in view of each other, Darius kept his men under arms, and took a general review of his troops by torch-light. Meantime Alexander suf- fered his Macedonians to repose themselves, and with his soothsayer Aristander, performed some private ceremonies before his tent, and offered sacrifices to FEAR. The oldest of his friends, and Parmenio in particular, when they beheld the plain between Niphates and the Gordaean Moun- tains, all illumined with the torches of the barba- rians, and heard the tumultuary and appalling noise from their camp, like the bellowings of an immense sea, were astonished at their numbers, and observed among themselves how arduous an enterprise it would be to meet such a torrent of war iu open day. They waited upon the king, therefore^ when he had finished the sacrifice, and advised him to attack the enemy in the night, when darkness would hide what was most dread- ful in the combat. Upon which he gave them that celebrated answer, / will not steal a victory. It is true, this answer has been thought by some, to .savor of the vanity of a young man, who derided the most obvious danger; yet others have thought it not only well calculated to en- courage his troops at the time, but politic enough in respect to the future; because, if Darius had happened to be beaten, it left him no handle to proceed to another trial, under pretense that night and darkness had been his adversaries, as he had before laid the blame upon the mountains, the narrow passes, and the sea. For, in such a vast empire, it could never be the want of arms or men that would bring Darius to give up the dis- pute; but the ruin of his hopes and spirits, in consequence of the loss of a battle, where he had the advantage of numbers and of daylight. When his friends were gone, Alexander retired to rest in his tent, and he is said to have slept that night much sounder than usual; insomuch, that when his officers came to attend him the next day, they could not but express their surprise at it, while they were obliged themselves to give out orders to the troops to take their morning refresh- * But as Gaugamela was only a village, and Arbela, a considerable town, stood near it, the Macedonians chose to distinguish the battle by the name of the latter. t Darius, the son of llystaspes, crossed the deserts of Scythia upon that camel. J Astronomers assure us, this eclipse of the moon hap- pened the twentieth of September, according to the Julian calendar; and, therefore, the battle of Arbela was fought the first of October. Fear was not without her altars; Theseus sacrificed to her, HS we have seen in his life; and Plutarch tells us, in the life of Agii and Cleomene*, that the Lacedemonians built iilemple to Fear, whom they honored, not as a per- nicious demon, but as the bond of all good government. \ ment. After this, as the occasion was urgent, ! Parmenio entered his apartment, and standing by j the bed, called him two or three times by name. I When he awaked, that officer asked him, " Why he slept like a man that had already conquered, and not rather like one who had the greatest battle the world ever heard of to fight?" Alexander smiled at the question, and said, "In what light can you look upon us but as conquerors, when we have not now to traverse desolate countries in pursuit of Darius, and he no longer declines the combat?" It was not, however, only before the battle, but in the face of danger, that Alexander showed his intrepidity and excellent judgment For the battle was some time doubtful. The left wing, commanded by Parmenio, was almost broken by the impetuosity with which the Bac- trian cavalry charged; and Mazaeus had, more- over, detached a party of horse, with orders to wheel round and attack the corps that was left to guard the Macedonian baggage. Parmenio, greatly disturbed at these circumstances, sent messengers to acquaint Alexander, that his camp and baggage would be taken if he did not imme- diately aispatch a strong reinforcement from the front to the rear: the moment that account was brought him, he was giving his right wing, which he commanded in person, the signal to charge. He stopped, however, to tell the messenger, " Par- menio must have lost his senses, and in his disor- der must have forgot, that the conquerors are always masters of all that belonged to the enemy; and the conquered need not give themselves any concern about their treasures or prisoners, nor have anything to think of, but how to sell their lives dear, and die in the bed of honor." As soon as he had returned Parmenio this an- swer, he put on his helmet, for in other points he came ready armed out of his tent. He had a short coat of the Sicilian fashion, girt close about him, and over that a breast-plate of linen strongly quilted, which was found among the spoils, at the battle of Issus. His helmet, the workmanship of Theophilus, was of iron, but so well polished, that it shone like the brightest silver. To this was fitted a gorget of the same metal set with precious stones. His sword, the weapon he generally used in battle, was a present from the king of the Ci- tieans, and could not be excelled for lightness or for temper. But the belt, which he wore in all engagements, was more superb than the rest of his armor. It was given him by the Rhodians as a mark of their respect, and old Helicon had ex- erted all his art in it. In drawing up his army and giving orders, as well as exercising and re- viewing it, he spared Bucephalus on account of his age, and rode another horse; but he constantly charged upon him; and ho had no sooner mounted him than the signal was always given. The speech he made to the Thessalians and the other Greeks, was of some length on this occa- sion. When he found that they, in their turn, strove to add to his confidence, and called out to him to lead them against the barbarians, he shifted his javelin to his left hand: and stretching his right hand toward heaven, according to Callis- thenes, he entreated the gods " to defend and invi- f orate the Greeks, if he was really the son of upiter." Aristander the soothsayer, who rode by his sido in a white robe, and with a crown of gold upon his head, then pointed out an eagle flying over him, and directing his course against the enemy The sight of this so animated the troops, that after mutual exhortation to bravery, the cavalry eimrgcii at full speed, and the phalanx rushed on likf a lo- ALEXANDER. 447 tie; whether it was that age had damped nis cour- age; or whether, as Callisthenes tells us, he looked upon Alexander's power, and the pompous beha- vior he assumed, with an invidious eye, and con- sidered it as an insupportable burden.* Alexan- der, though vexed at being so stopped in his career, did not acquaint the troops about him with the purport of the message; but under pretense of being weary of such a carnage, and of its growing dark, sounded a retreat. However, as he was riding up to that part of his army which had been represented in danger, he was informed that the enemy were totally defeated and put to flight. The battle having such an issue, the Persian empire appeared to be entirely destroyed, and Alexander was acknowledged king of all Asia. The first thing he did, was to make his acknow- ledgments to the gods, by magnificent sacri- fices; and then to his friends, by rich gifts of houses, estates and governments. As he was par- ticularly ambitious of recommending himself to the Greeks, he signified by letter, that all tyrannies should be abolished, and that they should be gov- erned by their own laws, under the auspices of freedom. To the Platseans in particular he wrote, that their city should be rebuilt, because their an- cestors had made a present of their territory to the Greeks, in order that they might fight the cause of liberty upon their own lands. He sent also a part of the spoils to the Crotonians in Italy, in honor of the spirit and courage of their country- man Phaylus,t a champion of the wrestling-ring, who in the war with the Medes, when the rest of the Greeks in Italy sent no assistance to the Greeks their brethren, fitted out a ship at his own expense, and repaired to Salamis, to take a share in the common danger. Such a pleasure did Alexander in every instance of virtue, and so failhful a guardian was he of the honor of all great actions ! He traversed all the province of Babylon, which mmediately made its submission; and in the dis- rict of Ecbatana he was particularly struck with i gulf of fire, which streamed continually, as from in inexhaustible source. He admired also a lood of naphtha, not far from the gulf, which lowed in such abundance that it formed a lake. The naphtha in many respects resembles the bi- umen, but it is much more inflammable. Before ny fire touches it, it catches light from a flame t some distance, and often kindles all the inter- mediate air. The barbarians, to show the king its orce and the subtilty of its nature, scattered some drops of it in the street which led to his lodgings; and standing at one end, they applied their torches to some of the first drops; for it was night. The flame communicated itself swifter than thought, and the street was instantaneously all on fire. There was one Athenophanes, an Athenian, who, among others, waited on Alexander when lost, and fled. Vide Arrian, 1. iii. c. 13, seq. ubi plurr,. i he bathed, and anointed him with oil. This man Diodorus ascribes the success, which for a time attended had the greatest success in his attempts to divert the Persian troops, entire v to the conduct and valor of Da- u j u j o* L i 'him: and one day a boy, named Stephen, happening to attend at the bath, who was homely in his per- rcnt.* Before the first ranks were well engaged, the barbarians gave way, and Alexander pressec hard upon the fugitives, in order to penetrate into the midst of the host, where Darius acted in per son. For he beheld him at a distance, over the foremost ranks, amidst his royal squadron. Besid that he was mounted upon a lofty chariot, Darius was easily distinguished by his size and beauty A numerous body of select cavalry stood in close order about the chariot, and seemed well preparec to receive the enemy. But Alexander's approach appeared so terrible, as he drove the fugitives upoi those who still maintained their ground, that they were seized with consternation, and the greates part of them dispersed. A few of the best and bravest of them, indeed, met their death before the king's chariot, and falling in heaps one upon an- other, strove to stop the pursuit; for in the very pangs of death they clung to the Macedonians, and caught hold of their horses' legs as they lay upon the ground. Darius had now the most dreadful dangers be- fore his eyes. His own forces, that were placed in the front to defend him, were driven back upon him; the wheels of his chariot were, moreover, entangled among the dead bodies, so that it was almost impossible to turn it; and the horses, plunging among heaps of the slain, bounded up and down, and no longer obeyed the hands of the charioteer. In this extremity he quitted the char- iot and his arms and fled, as they tell us, upon a rnare which had newly foaled. But, in all proba- bility, he had not escaped so, if Parmenio had not again sent some horsemen to desire Alexander to corne to his assistance, because great part of the enemy's forces still stood their ground, and kept a good countenance. Upon the whole Parmenio is accused of want of spirit and activity in that bat- * Plutarch, as a writer of lives, not of histories, does not pretend to give an exact description of battles. But as many of our readers, we believe, will be glad to see some of the more remarkable in detail, we shall give Arrian's ac- count of this. Alexander's right wing charged first upon the Scythian horse, who, as they were well armed and very robust, be- haved at the beginning very well, and made a vigorous resistance. That this might answer more effectually, the chariots placed in the left wing bore down at the same time upon the Macedonians. Their appearance was very terrible and threatened entire destruction; but Alexander's Jig-lit armed troops, by their darts, arrows, and stones, killed many of the drivers: and more of the horses, so that few reached the Macedonian line; which opening, as Alexan- der had directed, they only passed through, and were then either taken, or disabled by his bodies of reserve. The horse continued still engaged; and before anything decisive hap- pened there, the Persian foot, near the left wing, began to move, in hopes of falling upon the flank of the Macedonian right wing, or of penetrating so far as to divide it from its center. Alexander, perceiving this, sent Aratas with a corps to charge them, and prevent their intended maneuver.. In the meantime, prosecuting his first design, he broke their cavalry in the left wing, and entirely routed it. He then ank, and they made but a tavairy in the lett wing, and e charged the Persian foot in fl feeble resistance. Darius, perceiving this, gave up all for rus. t unortunatey appene, tat exaner, attackin- , , his guards, threw a dart at Darius, which, though it missed to attend at the bath, who Was homely in his per- him, struck the charioteer, who sat at his feet, dead; and, as :son, but an excellent singer, Athenophanes said to 5JE! sztt*r& zs& sift: t& ;s i" " - 8 ? * r t*t .fa. thence those uenind them conjectured that the king was | LA en u o -re - A * i e i- slain, and thereupon fled. Tl.i's obliged Darius to follow j M*PWU* upon Stephen .' It it takes fiPB Upon him, and does not presently die out, we must allow its their example, who, knowing the route he took could not be discovered on account of the dust and confusion, wheeled about, and got behind the Persian army, and continued his flight that way, while Alexander pursued right forward. Diod. Sic. 1. xvii. Justin tells us, that when those about Darius advised him to break down the bridge of the Cydnus, to retard the ene- ill never purchase safety to y thousands of my subjects Just. 1. xi, c. 14. iny's pursuit, he answered, "I w Myself, at the expense of so man s T.ust In" this means be lost.' * The truth seems to be, that Parmenio had too much concern for Alexander. Philip of Macedon confessed Par- menio to be the only jeneral he knew; and, on this occa- sion, he probably considered, that if the wing under Iii* command had been beaten, that corps of Persians would have been able to keep the field, and the fugitives rallying, and joining it there, would have been a respectable lore*, which might, have regained the day. t In Herodotus, PhoyUus, See'l. viii.47. 448 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. force to be extraordinary indeed." The boy read- ily consented to undergo the trial; but as soon as be was anointed with it, his whole body 'broke out into a flame, and Alexander was extremely concerned at his danger. Nothing could have prevented his being entirely consumed by it, if there had not been people at hand with many ves- sels of water for the service of the bath. As it was, they found it difficult to extinguish the fire, and the poor boy felt the bad effects of it as long as he lived. Those, therefore, who desire to reconcile the fa- ble with truth, are not unsupported by probability, when they say, it was this drug with which Medea anointed the crown and vail so well known upon the stage.* For the flame did not come from the crown or vail, nor did they take fire of them- selves; but upon the approach of fire they soon attracted it, and kindled imperceptibly. The emanations of fire at some distance, have no other effect upon most bodies, than merely to give them light and heat; but in those which are dry and porous, or saturated with oily particles, they col- lect themselves into a point, and immediately prey upon the matter so well fitted to receive them. Still there remains a difficulty as to the generation of this naphtfta; whether it derives its inflammable quality from ******* *,-j- or rather from the unctuous and sulphureous nature of the soil. For in the province of Babylon the ground is of so fiery a quality, that the grains of barley often leap up and are thrown out, as if the violent heat gave a pulsation to the earth. And in the hot months the people are obliged to sleep upon skins filled with water. Harpalus, whom Alexander left governor of the country, was ambitious to adorn the royal palaces and walks with Grecian trees and plants; and he succeeded in everything except ivy. After all his attempts to propagate that plant, it died; for it loves a cold soil, and therefore it could not bear the temper of that mold. Such digressions as these the nicest read- ers may endure, provided they are not too long. Alexander having made himself master of Susa, found in the king's palace forty thousand talents in coined money, $ and the royal furniture, and other riches were of inexpressible value. Among other things, there was purple of Hermione, worth five thousand talents, which, though it had been laid up a hundred and ninety years, retained its first freshness and beauty. The reason they as- sign for this is, that the purple wool was combed with honey, and the white with white oil. And we are assured, that specimens of the same kind and age are still to be seen in all their pristine luster. Dinon informs us, that the kings of Per- sia used to have water fetched from the Nile and the Danube, and put among their treasures, as a proof of the extent of their dominions, and their being masters of the world. The entrance into Persia was difficult, on account of the roughness of the country in that part, and because the passes were guarded by the bravest of the Persians; for Darius had taken refuge there. But a man who spoke both Greek and Persian, having a Lycian to his father, and a Persian wo- Hoc delibntis ulta donis pellicem Serpente fugit Alite. Horace. t Something here is wanting in the original. 4- Q.. Curtius, who magnifies everything, says fifty thou sand. Or five thousand talents weight. Dacier calls it s< many hundred weight; and the eastern talent was nearly that weight. Pliny tells us, that a pound of the double-dip- ped Tyrian purple, in the time of Augustus, was sold for a Dundred crowns. man to his mother, offered himself as a guide to Alexander, and showed him how he might enter by taking a circuit. Tiiis was the person the priestess of Apollo had in view, when, upon Alexander's consulting her at a very early period of life, she foretold, " That a Lycian should con- duct him into Persia." Those that first fell into his hands there were slaughtered in vast numbers* He tells us, he ordered that no quarter should be given, because he thought such an example would be of service to his affairs. It is said, he found as much gold and silver coin there as he did at Susa, and that there was such a quantity of other treas- ures and rich movables, that it loaded ten thotb- sand pair of mules and five thousand camels.* At Persepolis he cast his eyes upon a great statue of Xerxes, which had been thrown from its pedestal by the crowd that suddenly rushed in, and lay neglected on the ground. Upon this he stopped, and addressed it, as if it had been alive "Shall we leave you," said he, "in this condition, on account of the war you made upon Greece, or rear you again, for the sake of your magnanimity and other virtues?" After he had stood a long time considering in silence which he should do, he passed by and left it as it was. To give his troops time to refresh themselves, he stayed there four months, for it was winter. The first time he sat down on the throne of the kings of Persia, under a golden canopy, De- rnaratus, the Corinthian, who had the same friend- ship and affection for Alexander, as he had enter- tained for his father Philip, is said to have wept like an old man, while he uttered this exclama- tion, " What a pleasure have those Greeks missed^ who died without seeing Alexander seated on the throne of Darius !" When he was on the point of marching against Darius, he made a great entertainment for his friends, at which they drank to a degree of intoxi- cation; and the women had their share in it, for they came in masquerade to seek their lovers. The most celebrated among these women was Thais, a native of Attica, and mistress to Ptolemy, afterward king of Egypt. When she had gained Alexander's attention by her flattery and humo- rous vein, she addressed him over her cups in a manner agreeable to the spirit of her country, but far aoove a person of her stamp. " I have under- gone great fatigues," said she, " in wandering about Asia; but this day has brought me a com- pensation, by putting it in my power to insult the proud courts of the Persian kings. Ah! how much greater pleasure would it be to finish the carousal with burning the palaces of Xerxes, who laid Athens in ashes, and set fire to it myself in the sight of Alexander!! Then shall it be said in times to come, that the women of his train have more signally avenged the cause of Greece upon the Persians, than all that the generals before him could do by sea or land." This speech was received with the loudest plau- dits and most tumultuary acclamations. All the company strove to persuade the king to comply with the proposal. At last, yielding to their in- stances, he leaped from his" seat, and, with his garland on his head, and a flambeau in his hand, * Diodorus says three thousand. t These domes were not reared solely for regal magnifi- cence and security, but to aid the appetites of power and luxury, and to secrete the royal pleasures from those that toiled to gratify them. Thus, as this noble structure was possibly raised, not only for vanity but for riot; so, probably by vanity inflamed by riot, it fell. A striking instan.-e of the insignificancy of human labors and the depravity ef human nature. ALEXANDER lod the way The rest followed with shouts of joy, and dancing as they went, spread themselves round the palace. The Macedonians, who got intelligence of this frolic, ran up with lighted torches, and joined them with great pleasure. For they concluded, from his destroying the royal palace, that the king's thoughts were turned toward home, and that he did not design to fix his seat among the barbarians. Such is the account most writers give us of the motives of this transaction. There are nt, however, wanting those who as- sert, that it was in consequence of cool reflection. But all agree that the king soon repented, and ordered the fire to be extinguished. As he was naturally munificent, that inclination increased with his extraordinary acquisitions; and he had also a gracious manner, which is the o'nly thing that gives bounty an irresistible charm. To give a few instances: Ariston, who command- ed the Pajonians, having killed one of the enemy and cut off his head, laid it at Alexander's feet, and said, " Among us, Sir, such a present is re- warded with a golden cup." The king answered, with a smile, "An empty one, I suppose; but I will give you one full of good wine; and here, my boy, I drink to you." One day, as a Macedonian of mean circumstances was driving a mule, laden with the king's money, the mule tired; the man then took the burden upon his own shoulders, and carried it until he tottered under it, and was ready to give out. Alexander happening to see him, and being informed what it was, said, " Hold on, friend, the rest of the way, and carry it to your own tent: for it is yours." Indeed, he was gene- rally more offended at those who refused his pre- sents, than at those who asked favors of him. Hence he wrote to Phocion, "That he could no longer number him among his friends, if he re- jected the marks of his regard." He had given nothi.; to Serapion, one of the youths that play- ed with him at ball, because he asked nothing. O'JLS day, when they were at their diversion, Sera- pion took care always to throw the ball to others of the party; upon which Alexander said, " Why do you not give it me?" "Because you did not ask for it," said the youth. The repartee pleased the king much; he laughed, and immediately made him very valuable presents. One Proteas, a man of humor, and a jester by profession, had happen- ed to offend him. His friends interceded for him, and he sued for pardon with tears; which at last the king granted. " If you do really pardon me," returned the wag, "I hope you will give me at least some substantial proof of it." And he con- descended to do it in a present of five talents. With what a free hand he showered his gifts upon his friends, and those who attended on his per- son,* appears from one of the letters of Olympias. ** You do well," said she, " in serving your friends, and it is right to act nobly; but by making them all equal to kings, in proportion as you put it in their power to make friends, you deprive yourself 31' that privilege." Olympias often wrote to him in that manner; but he kept all her letters secret, except one, which Hephjestion happened to cast his eye upon, when he went, according to custom, to read over the king's shoulder; he did not hinder him from reacing on; only, when he had done, he took his signet from his ringer and put it to his mouth.-| * He probably means in particular the fifty young men knraihtllim by Amyntas, who wore of the principal families i> Aia. .ciitinii . Tlieir otricu was to wait, on him at table, U M*n<l with tinr.se* when lie went to tight or luiiU, an,l to Aep guitril day ;uul iiujlu at his chamber Jour. t 'I j enjo.n him silence. 449 The son of Mazseus, who was the principal favorite of Darius, was already governor of a pra vince, and the conqueror added to it another go- vernment still more considerable. But the young man declined it in a handsome manner, and said, "Sir, we had but one Darius, and now you make many Alexanders." He bestowed on Parrnenio the house of Bagaos. in which were found such goods as were taken at Susa, to the value of a thousand talents. He wrote to Antipater to ac- quaint him, that there was a design formed against his life, and ordered him to keep guards about him. As for his mother, he made her many magnificent presents; but he would not suffer her busy genius to exert itself in state affairs, or in the least to control the proceedings of govern- ment. She complained of this as a hardship, and he bore her ill humor with great mildness. An- tipater once wrote him a long letter full of heavy complaints against her; and when he had read it, he said, " Antipater knows not that one tear of a mother can blot out a thousand such complaints." He found that his great officers set no bounds to their luxury, that they were most extravagantly delicate in their diet, and profuse in other respects; insomuch that Agnon of Teos wore silver nails in his shoes; Leonatus had many camel loads of earth brought from Egypt to rub himself with when he went to the wrestling-ring; Philotas had hunting-nets that would inclose the space of a hundred furlongs; more made use of rich essences than oil after bathing, and had their grooms of the bath, as well as chamberlains who excelled in bed- making. This degeneracy he reproved with all the temper of a philosopher. He told them, " It was very strange to him, that, after having under- gone so many glorious conflicts, they did not re- member that those who come from labor and exercise, always sleep more sweetly than the in- active and effeminate; and that in comparing the Persian manners with the Macedonian, they did not perceive that nothing was more servile than the love of pleasure, or more princely than a life of toil. How will that man," continued he, "take care of his own horse, or furbish his lance and helmet, whose hands are too delicate to wait on his own dear person? Know you not that the end of conquest is, not to do what the conquered have done, but something greatly superior?" After this, he constantly took the exercise of war or hunting, and exposed himself to danger and fatigue with less precaution than ever; so that a Lacedrernonian ambassador, who attended him one day, when he killed a fierce lion, said, " Alexander, you have disputed the prize of roy- alty gloriously with the lion." Craterus got this hunting-piece represented in bronze, and conse- crated it in the temple at Delphi. There were the lion, the dogs, the king fighting with the lion, and Craterus making up to the king's assistance. Some of these statues were the workmanship of Lysippus, and others of Leochares. Thus Alexander hazarded his person, by way of exercise for himself, and example to others. But his friends, in the pride of wealth, were so devoted to luxury and ease that they considered long marches and campaigns as a burden, and by degrees came to murmur and speak ill of the king. At first he bore their censures with great modera- tion, and used to say, "There was something noble in hearing himself ill spoken of while he was doing well."* Indeed, in the least of the * Voltaire says somewhere, that it is a nohle fhtn^ to make in.;r.ttes. lie eeius to be indebted for the sentuuea* U> Alexander. 450 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. good offices he did his friends, there were great marks of affection and respect. We will give an instance or two of it. He wrote to Peucestas, who had been beat by a bear in hunting, to com- plain, that he had given an account of the acci- dent, by letters, to others of his friends, and not to him. " But now," says he, " let me know how you do, and whether any of your company desert- ed you, that I may punish them if such there were." When Hephcestiou happened to be absent upon business, he acquainted him in one of his letters, that as they were diverting themselves with hunting the ichneumon,* Craterus had the misfortune to be run through the thighs with Perdiccas's lance. When Peucestas recovered of a dangerous illness, he wrote a letter with his own hand to Alexippus the physician, to thank him for his care. During the sickness of Craterus, the king had a dream, in consequence of which he offered sacrifices for his recovery, and ordered him to do the same. Upon Pausanias the physi- cian's design to give Craterus a dose of hellebore, he wrote to him, expressing his groat anxiety about it, and desiring him to be particularly cau- tious in the use of that medicine. He imprisoned Ephialtes and Cissus, who brought him the first news of the flight and treasonable practices of Harpalus, supposing their information false. Upon his sending home the invalids and the superan- nuated, Eurylochus, the Agsean, got himself en- rolled among the former. Soon after, it was discovered that he had no infirmity of body; and he confessed it was the love of Telesippa, who was going to return home, that put him upon that expedient to follow her. Alexander inquired who the woman was, and being informed that though a courtesan, she was not a slave, he said, " Eurylochus, I am willing to assist you in this affuir; but as the woman is free-born, you must see if we can prevail upon her by presents and courtship." It is surprising, that he had time or inclination to write letters about such unimportant affairs of his friends, as to give orders for diligent search to be made in Cilicia for Seleucas's runaway slave; to commend Peucestas for having seized Nicon, a slave that belonged to Craterus ; and to direct Megabyzus, if possible, to draw another slave from his asylum, and take him, but not touch him while he remained in the temple. It is said, that in the first years of his reign, when capital causes were brought before him, he used to stop one of his ears with his hand, while the plaintiff was opening the indictment, that he might reserve it perfectly unprejudiced for hear- ing the defendant. But the many false informa- tions which were afterward lodged, and which, by means of some true circumstances, were so re- presented as to give an air of truth to the whole, broke his temper. Particularly in case of asper- sions on his own character, his reason forsook him, and he became extremely and inflexibly * The Egyptian rat called ichneumon, is of the si/,e of a eat, with very rough hair, spotted with white, yellow, and ash-color; its noe like that of a hog, with which it digs up the e;irth. Ic has short hlack legs, and a tail like a fox. It lives on lizards, serpents, snails, chameleons, &c., and is of great service in Egypt, hy its natural instinct of hunting out and breaking the "eggs of the crocodile, and thereby preventing too great an increase of that destructive creature". The naturalists also say, that it is so greedy after the croco- dile's liver, that, rolling itself up in mud, it slips down his throat, while he sleeps with his mouth open, and gnaws its way out again. Diod. Sic. p. 32, 78. Plin. 1. vii. c. 24, 25. The Egyptians worshiped the ichneumon for destroying the crocodiles. They worshiped the crocodile too, proba- foly as the Indians do the devil, that it might do them nc> hurt. severe, as preferring his reputation to life and empire. When he marched against Darius again, he ex pected another battle. But upon intelligence that Bessus had seized the person of that prince, he dismissed the Thessalians, and sent them home, after he had given them a gratuity of two thousand talents, over and above their pay. Tho pursuit was long and laborious, for he rode three thousand three hundred furlongs in eleven days.* As they often suffered more for want of water than by fatigue, many of the cavalry were un- able to hold out. While they were upon the march, some Macedonians had filled their bottles at a river, and were bringing the water upon mules. These people, seeing Alexander greatly distressed with thirst (for it was in the heat of the day), immediately filled a helmet with water, and presented it to him. He asked them to whom they were carrying it? and they said, "Their sons: but if our prince does but live, we shall get other children, if we lose them." Upon this, he took the helmet in his hands; but looking round, and seeing all the horsemen bending their heads, and fixing their eyes upon the water, he returned it without drinking. However, he praised the people that offered it, and said, "If I alone drink, these good men will be dispirited. "t Tlje cavalry, who were witnesses to this act of temperance and magnanimity, cried out, "Let us march! We are neither weary nor thirsty, nor shall we even think ourselves mortal, while under the conduct of such a king." At the same time they put spurs to their horses. They all had the same affection to the cause, but only sixty were able to keep up with him until he reached the enemy's camp. There they rode over the gold and silver that lay scattered about, and passing by a number of carriages full of women and children, which were in motion, but without charioteers, they hastened to the leading squadrons, not doubting that they should find Darius among them. At last, after much search, they found him extended on his chariot, and pierced with many darts. Though he was near his last moments, he had strength to ask for something to quench his thirst. A Macedonian, named Polystratus, brought him some cold water, and when he iiad drank, he said, "Friend, this fills up the measure of my misfortunes, to think 1 am not able to reward thee for this act of kind- ness. But Alexander will not let thee go with- out a recompense; and the gods will reward Alex- ander for his humanity to my mother, to my wife, and children. Tell him I gave him my hand, for I gave it thee in his stead." So saying, he took the hand of Polystratus, and immediately expired. When Alexander came up, he showed his concern for that event by the strongest expres- sions, and covered the body with his own robe. Bessus afterward fell into his hands, and he punished his parricide in this manner. He caused two straight trees to be bent, and one of his legs to be made fast to each; then suffering the trees to return to their former posture, his body was torn asunder by the violence of the recoil 4 * As this was no more than forty miles a day, our New market heroes would have beat Alexander hollow. It is nothing when compared to Charles the Twelfth's marcb from Fiender through Germany; nothing to the expedition ol Hannibal along the African coast. t Lucan has embellished this story for Cato, and bat possibly introduced it merely upon imitation. % Q.. Curtius tells us, Alexander delivered up the assas- sin to Oxathres, the brother of Darius; in consequence of which, he had his nose and cars cut off, and WHS fastened to a cross, where he ^'.i d.'*uatched with duiU and arrows ALEXANDER. 451 As for the body of Darius, he ordered it should have all the honors of a royal funeral, and sent it embalmed to hi mother. Oxathres, that prince's brother, he admitted into the number of his friends. His next movement was into Hyrcania, which he entered with the flower of his army. There he took a view of the Caspian sea, which appear- ed to him not less than the Euxine, but its water was of a sweeter taste. He could get no certain information in what manner it was formed, but he conjectured that it came from an outlet of the Palua Maeotis. Yet tiie ancient naturalists were not ignorant of its origin: for, many years before Alexander's expedition, they wrote, that there are four seas which stretch from the main ocean into the continent, the farthest north of which is the Hyrcauian or the Caspian.* The barba- rians here fell suddenly upon a party who were leading his horse Bucephalus, and took him. This provoked him so much, that he sent a herald to threaten them, their wives and children, with utter extermination, if they did not restore him the horse. But, upon their bringing him back, and surrendering to him their cities, he treated them with great clemency, and paid a considerable sum, by way of ransom, to those that took the horse. From thence he marched into Parthia; where, finding no employment for his arms,he first put on the robes of the barbarian kings; whether it was that he conformed a little to their customs, because he knew how much a similarity of man- ners tends to reconcile and gain men's hearts; or whether it was by way of experiment, to see if the Macedonians might be brought to pay him the greater deference, by accustoming them in- sensibly to the new barbaric attire and port which he assumed. However, he thought the Median habit made too stiff and exotic an appear- ance, and therefore took not the long breeches, or the sweeping train, or the tiara; but adopting something between the Median and Persian mode, contrived vestments less pompous than the former, and more majestic than the latter. At first he used this dress only before the barbarians, or his particular friends within doors; but in time he came to wear it when he appeared in public, and sat for the dispatch of business. This was a mortifying sight to the Macedonians; yet, as they admired his other virtues, they thought he might be suffered to please himself a little, and enjoy hit? vanity. Some indulgence seemed due to a prince, who, beside his other hardships, had lately been wounded in the leg with an arrow, which shattered the bone in such a manner, that splin- ters were taken out; who, another time, had such a violent blow from a stone upon the nape of his neck, that an alarming darkness covered his eyes, and continued for some time; and yet con- tinued to expose his person without the least pre- caution. On the contrary, when he had passed the Orexartes, which he supposed to be the Ta- liaif, he not only attacked the Scythians and routed them, but pursued them a hundred fur- longs, in spite of what he suffered at that time from a flux. There the queen of the Amazons came to visit him, as Clitarchus, Polycritus, Onesicritus, Anti- genes, Ister. and many other historians report. But Aristobulus, Chares of Theangela, Ptolemy, Anticlides, Philo the Thebaii, Philip, who was This is an error which Pliny too has followed. The asjiiau st-;i has uo eomuiuui ;;Uiou with the ocean. also of Tlwangela, as well as Hecataeus of Ere- tria, Philip of Chalcis, and Duris of Samos, treat the story as a fiction. And indeed Alexander himself seems to support their opinion. For in one of his letters to Antipater, to whom he gave an exact detail of all that passed, he says, the king of Scythia offered him his daughter in mar- riage, but he makes not the least mention of the Amazon. Nay, when Onesicritus, many yeara after, read to Lysimachus, then king, the fourth book of his history, in which this story was in- troduced, he smiled and said, "Where was I at that time?*' But whether we give credit to this particular, or not, is a matter that will neither add to nor lessen our opinion of Alexander. As he was afraid that many of the Macedo- nians might dislike the remaining fatigues of the expedition, he left the greatest part of his army in quarters, and entered Hyrcania with a select body of twenty thousand foot and three thousand horse. The purport of his speech upon the oc- casion was this: "Hitherto the barbarians have seen us only as in a dream. If you should think of returning, after having given Asia the alarm only, they will fall upon you with contempt as unenterprising and effeminate. Nevertheless, such as desire to depart have my consent for it: but, at the same time, I call the gods to witness, that they desert their king when he is conquer- ing the world for the Macedonians, and leave him to the kinder and more faithful attachment of those few friends that will follow his fortune/' This is almost word for word the same with what he wrote to Antipater; and he adds, " That he had no sooner done speaking, than they cried, he> might lead them to what part of the world he pleased." Thus he tried the disposition of these brave men; and there was no difficulty in bring- ing the whole body into their sentiments: they followed of course. After this he accommodated himself more than ever to the manners of the Asiatics, and at the same time persuaded them to adopt some of the Macedonian fashions; for, by a mixture of both, he thought a union might be promoted much better than by force, and his authority maintained when he was at a distance. For the same reason he elected thirty thousand boys, and gave them masters to instruct them in the Gre- cian literature, as well as to train them to arms in the Macedonian manner. As for his marriage with Roxana, it was en- tirely the effect of love. He saw her at an enter- tainment and found her charms irresistible. Ner was the match unsuilable to the situation of his affairs. The barbarians placed greater confidence in him on account of that alliance, and his chas- tity gained their affection; it delighted them to think, he would not approach the only woman he ever passionately loved without the sanction of marriage. Hephaestion and Craterus were his two favor- ites. The former praised the Persian fashions, and dressed as he did; th s latter adhered to the customs of his own country. He therefore em- ployed Hephaestion in his transactions with the barbarians, and Craterus to signify his pleasure to the Greeks and Macedonians. The one had more of his love, and the other more of his esteem. He was persuaded indeed, and he often said, " Hephasstion loved Alexander, and Craterus the king." Hence arose private animosities, which did not fail to break out upon occasion. One day, in India, they drew their swords, and caipe to blows. The friends of each were joining in the quarrel, when Alexander interposed. He 452 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. told Hephsestion publicly, "He was a Tool and a madman, not to be sensible, that without his mas- ter's favor lie would be nothing." He gave Cra- terus also a severe reprimand in private; and after having brought them together again, and recon- ciled them, he swore by Jupiter Ammon, and all the other gods, "That he loved them more than all the men in the world; but, if he perceived them at variance again, he would put them both to death, or him at least, who began the quarrel." This is said to have had such an effect upon them, that they never expressed any dislike to each other, even in jest, afterward. Among the Macedonians, Philotas, the son of Parmenio, had greater authority; for he was not only valiant and indefatigable in the field, but after Alexander, no man loved his friend more, or had a greater spirit of generosity. We are told, that a friend of his one day requested a sum ef money, and he ordered it to be given him. The steward said, he had it not to give. "What," says Philotas, "hast thou not plate, or some other movable?" However, he affected an ostentation of wealth, and a magnificence in his dress and table, that was above the condition of a subject. Beside, the loftiness of his port was altogether ex- travagant; not tempered with any natural graces, but formal and uncouth, it exposed him both to hatred and suspicion; insomuch that Parmenio one day said to him, "My son, be less." He had long been represented in an invidious light to Alexander. When Damascus, with all its riches, was taken, upon the defeat of Darius in Cilicia, among the number of captives that were brought to the camp, there was a beautiful young woman, called Antigone, a native of Pydna, who fell to the share of Philotas. Like a young soldier with a favorite mistress, in his cups he indulged his vanity, and let many indiscreet things escape him; attributing all the great actions of the war to himself and to his father. As for Alexander, he called him a boy, who by their means enjoyed the title of a conqueror. The woman told these things in confidence to one of her acquaintances, and he (as is common) mentioned them to an- other. At last, they came to the ear of Craterus, who took the woman privately before Alexander. When the king had heard the whole from her own mouth, lie ordered her to go as usual to Philotas, but to make her report to him of all that he said. Philotas, ignorant of the snares that were laid for him, conversed with the wo- man without the Jeast reserve, and either in his resentment or pride uttered many unbecoming things against Alexander. That prince, though he had sufficient proof against Philotas, kept the matter private, and discovered no tokens of aver- sion; whether it was that he confided in Par- menio's attachment to him, or whether he was afraid of the power and interest of the family. About this time, a Macedonian, named Lim- nus,* a native of Chalaestra, conspired against Alexander's life, and communicated his design to one Nicomachus, a youth that he was fond of; desiring him to take a part in the enterprise. Nicomachus, instead of embracing the proposal, informed his brother Balinusf of the plot, who went immediately to Philotas, and desired him to introduce them to Alexander ; assuring him it was upon business of great importance. Whatever might be his reason (for it is not known), Philotas refused them admittance, on pretense that Alexan- * It should, undoubtedly, be read Dymnus, as Q,. Curtius Mid Diodorus have it. t U. Curtius calls him Ccbalinus, der had other great engagements then upon hit hands. They applied again, and met witii a de- nial. By this time, they entertained some suspi- cion of Philotas, and addressed themselves to Metron, who introduced them to the king imme- diately. They informed him first of the conspi- racy of Limnus, and then hinted to him their suspicions of Philotas, on account of his rejecting two several applications. Alexander was incensed at this negligence; and when he found that the person who was sent to arrest Limnus, had killed him* because he stood upon his defense and refused to be taken, it dis- turbed him still more, to think he had lost the means of discovering his accomplices. His re- sentment against Philotas gave opportunity to those who had long hated that officer to avow their dislike, and to declare, how much the king was to blame in suffering himself to be so easily imposed upon as to think that Limnus, an insig- nificant Chalaestrean, durst engage of his own accord, in such a bold design. "No doubt," said they, "he was the agent, or rather the instrument, of some superior hand; and the king should trace out the source of the conspiracy among those who have the most interest in having it con- cealed." As he began to listen to these discourses, and to give way to his suspicions, it brought innume- rable accusations against Philotas, some of them very groundless. He was apprehended and put to the torture, in presence of the great officers of the court. Alexander had placed himself be- hind the tapestry to hear the examination; and when he found that Philotas bemoaned himself in such a lamentable manner, and had reccurse to such mean supplications to Hepha^stion, he is re- ported to have said, " O Philotas, durst thou, with all this unmanly weakness, embark in so grea and hazardous an enterprise?" After the execution of Philotas, he immediately sent orders into Media, that Parmenio should be put to death; a man who had a share in most of Philip's conquests, and who was the principal, if not the only one, of the old counselors, who put Alexander upon his expedition into Asia. Of three sons whom he took over with him, he had seen two slain in battle, and with the third he fell a sacrifice himself. These proceedings made Alexander terrible to his friends, particularly to Antipater. That regent, therefore, sent privately to the ^Etolians, and entered into league with them. They had something to fear from Alexan- der, as well as he, for they had sacked the city of the (Eniades; and when the king was informed of it, he said, " The children of the (Eniades need not revenge their cause, I will punish the ^Elo- lians myself." Soon after this happened the affair of Clitus; which, however simply related, is much more shocking than the execution of Philotas. Yet, if we reflect on the occasion and circumstances of the thing, we shall conclude it was a misfor- tune, rather than a deliberate act, and that Alex- ander's unhappy passion and intoxication only furnished the evil genius of Clitus with the means of accomplishing his destruction. It happened in the following nu>nner. The king had some Grecian fruit brought him from on board a vessel, and as he greatly admired its freshness and beauty, he desired Clitus to see it, and partake of it. It happened that Clitus was offering sacrifice that day; but he left it to wait upon the king. Three of the sheep on which the libation waa Other authors say he killed himself. ALEXANDER. 453 already poured, followed him. The king, inform- ed of that accident, consulted his soothsayers, Aristander and Clt-oinantis, the Spartan, upon it; and they assured him it was a very bad omen. He, therefore, ordered the victims to be irmneui- ately offered for the health of Clitus; rather be- cause three days before he had a strange and alarming dream, in which Clitus appeared in mourning, sitting by the dead sons of Parmenio. However, before the sacrifice was finished, Clitus went to sup with the king, who that day had been paying his homage to Castor and Pollux. Alter they were warmed with drinking, some- body began to sing the verses of one Pranicus, or, as others will have it, of Pierio, written in ridi- cule of the Macedonian officers who had lately been beaten by the barbarians. The older part of the company were greatly offended at it, and condemned both the poet and the singer; but Alexander, and those about him, listened with pleasure, and bade him go on. Clitus, who by this lime had drank too much, and was naturally rough and fro ward, could not bear their behavior. He said, " It was not well done to make a jest, and that among barbarians and enemies, of Macedo- nians that were much better men than the laugh- ers, though they had met with a misfortune." Alexander made answer, li That Clitus was plead- ing his own cause, when he gave cowardice the soft name of misfortune." Then Ciitus started up, and said, " Yet it was this cowardice that saved you, son of Jupiter as you are, when you were turning your back to the sword of Spithri- dates. It is by the blood of the Macedonians and these wounds, that you are grown so great, that you disdain to acknowledge Philip for your father, and will needs pass yourself for the son of Jupiter Ammon." Irritated at this insolence, Alexander replied, " It is in this villanous manner thou talkest of me in all companies, and stirrest up the Macedo- nians to mutiny: but dost thou think to enjoy it long?" "And what do we enjoy now?" said Cli- tus, " what reward have we for all our toils? Do we not envy those who did not live to see Mace- donians bleed under Median rods, or sue to Per- sians for access to their king?" While Clitus went on in this rash manner, and the king retorted upon him with equal bitterness, the old men interposed, and endeavored to allay the flame. Meantime Alexander turned to Xenodochus, the Caniian, and Artemius, the Colophonian, and said, " Do not the Greeks appear to you among the Macedonians like demigods among so many wild beasts?" Clitus, far from giving up the dispute, called upon Alexander, " To speak out what he had to say, or not to invite freemen to his table, who would declare their sentiments without re- serve. But perhaps," continued he, " it were better to pass your life with barbarians and slaves, who will worship your Persian girdle and white robe without scruple." Alexander, no longer able to restrain his anger, threw an apple at his face, and then looked about for his sword. But Aristophanes,* one of his guards, had taken it away in time, and the com- pany gathered about him, and entreated him to be quiet. Their remonstrances, however, were vain. He broke from them, and railed out, in the Macedonian language, for his guards, which was the signal for a great tumult. At the same time he ordered the trumpeter to sound, and struck him with his fist, upon his discovering an unwil- lingness to obey. This man was afterward held Q,. Curtius and Arrian t all him Aristonus. in great esteem, because he prevented the whole army from being alarmed. As Clitus would not make the least submission, his friends with much ado, forced him out of the room. But he soon returned by another door, repeating, in a bold and disrespectful tone, those verses from the Andromache of Euripides- Are these your customs? Is it thus that Greece Rewards her combatants!* Shall one man claim The trophies won by thousands? Then Alexander snatched a spear from one of his guards, and meeting Clitus as he was putting by the curtain, ran him through the body. He fell immediately to the ground, and with a dismal groan expired. Alexander's rage subsided in a moment ; he came to himself; and seeing his friends standing in silent astonishment by him, he hastily drew the spear out of the dead body, and was applying it to his own throat, when his guards seized his hands, and carried him by force into his chamber. He passed that night and the next day in anguish inexpressible; and when he had wasted himself with tears and lamentations, he lay in speechless grief, uttering only now and then a groan. His friends, alarmed at this melancholy silence, forced themselves into the room, and attempted to con- sole him. But he would listen to none of them, except Aristander, who put him in mind of his dream and the ill omen of the sheep, and assured him, that the whole was by the decree of fate. As he seemed a little comforted, Callisthenes, the philosopher, Aristotle's near relation, and Anaxar- chus, the Abderite, were called in.f Callisthenea began in a soft and tender manner, endeavoring to relieve him without searching the wound. But Anaxarchus, who had a particular walk in philo- sophy, and looked upon his fellow-laborers in sci- ence with contempt, cried out, on entering the room, " Is this Alexander upon whom the whole world have their eyes? Can it be he who lies extended on the ground, crying like a slave, in fear of the law and the tongues of men, to whom he should himself be a law, and the measure of right and wrong? What did he conquer for but to rule and to command, not servilely to submit to the vain opinions of men? Know you not," con- tinued he, " that Jupiter is represented with The- rnis and Justice by his side, to show, that what- ever is done by supreme power is right?" By this, and other discourses of the same kind, he alleviated the king's grief, indeed, but made him, withal, more haughty and unjust. At the same time he insinuated himself into his favor in so extraordinary a manner, that he could no longer bear the conversation of Callisthenes, who, be- fore was not very agreeable, on account of his austerity. One day a dispute had arisen at table about the seasons and the temperature of the climate. Cal- listhenes held with those who asserted, that the country they were then in was much colder, and the winters more severe than in Greece. Anax- archus maintained the contrary with great obsti- nacy. Upon which Callisthenes said, " You must needs acknowledge, my friend, that this is much the colder: for there you went in winter in one cloak, and here you cannot sit at table without * This is the Speech of Peleusto Menelaus. t Callisthenes was of the city of Glynihus, and had been recommended to Alexander by Aristotle, whose relation he was. He had too much of the spirit of liberty to be tit for a court. He did not show it, however, in this instance Aristotle forewarned him, that if he went on to treat th king with the freedom which his spirit prompted, it would one day be fatal to him. 454 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. This i three housing" coverlets one over another, stroke went to the heart of Anaxarchus. Callisthenes was disagreeable to all the other i sophists and flatterers at court; the more so be- j cause he was followed by the young men on { account of his eloquence, and no less acceptable to the old for his regular, grave, self-satisfied course of life. All which confirms what was said to be the cause of his going to Alexander, namely, an ambition to bring his fellow-citizens back, and to re-people the place of his nativity.* His great reputation naturally exposed him to envy; and he gave some room for calumny him- self by often refusing the king's invitations, and when he did go to his entertainments, by sitting solemn and silent; which showed that he could neither commend, nor was satisfied with what passed; insomuch that Alexander said to him one day, 1 hate the sage, Who reaps no fruits of wisdom to himself. Once when he was at the king's table with a large company, and the cup came to him, he was desired to pronounce an eulogium upon the Mace- donians extempore, which he did with so much eloquence, that the guests, beside their plaudits, rose up and covered him with thejr garlands. Upon this, Alexander said, in the words of Euri- pides, When great the theme, 'tis easy to excel. " But show us now," continued he, " the power of your rhetoric, in speaking against the Mace- donians, that they may see their faults, and amend." Then the orator took the other side, and spoke with equal fluency against the encroachments and other faults of the Macedonians, as well as against the divisions among the Greeks, which he siiowed to be the only cause of the great increase of Philip's power; concluding with these words, Amidst sedition's waves, The worst of mortals may emerge to honor. By this he drew upon himself the implacable ha- tred of the Macedonians, and Alexander said, "He gave not, in tins case, a specimen of his eloquence, but of his malevolence." Hermippus assures us, that Stroibus, a person employed byCallisthenes to read to him, gave this account of the matter to Aristotle. He adds, that Callisthenes, perceiving the king's aversion to him, repealed this verse two or tliree times at parting: Patroclns, thy superior is no more. It was not, therefore, without reason, that Aris- totle said of Callisthenes, " His eloquence, indeed. is great, but he wants common sense." He not only refused, with all the firmness of a philo- sopher, to pay his respects to Alexander by pros- tration, but stood forth singly, and uttered in public many grievances which the best and oldest. of the Macedonians dnrsl not reflect upon but in secret, though they were as much displeased at them as he. By preventing the prostration, he saved the Greeks, indeed, from a great dishonor, and Alexander from a greater; but he ruined him- self; because his manner was such, that he seemed rather desirous to compel than to persuade. Chares of Mityleno tells us, that Alexander, at one of his entertainments, after he had drank, reached the cup to one of his friends. That friend had no sooner received it, than he rose up, and turning toward the hearth,* where stood the do- mestic gods-., to drink, he worshiped, and then kissed Alexander. This done, he took his place against the table. All the guests did the same in their order, except Callisthenes. When it came to his turn, he drank, and then approached to give the king a kiss, who being engaged in some dis- course with Hephsestion, happened notto mind him. But Demetrius, surnamed Phidon, cried out, " Re- ceive not his kiss; for he alone has not adored you." Upon which Alexander refused it, and Callisthenes said aloud, " Then I return one kiss the poorer." A coldness of course, ensued; but many other things contributed to his fall. In the first place, Hephaestion's report was believed, that Callisthenes had promised to adore the king, and broke his word. In the next place, Ly si machos and Agnou attacked him and said, " The sophist went about with as much pride as if he had demolished a tyr- anny, and the young men followed him, as the only freeman among so many thousands." These things, upon the discovery of Hermolaus's plot against Alexander, gave an air of probability to what was alleged against Callisthenes. His ene- mies said, Hermotaus inquired of him, "By what means he might become the most famous man in the world?" and that he answered, "By killing the most famous." They further asserted, that by way of encouraging him to the attempt, he bade him " not be afraid of the golden bed, but re- member he had to do with a man who had suffer' ed both by sickness and by wounds." Neither Hermolaus, however, nor any of his ac- complices, made any mention of Callisthenes amidst the extremities of torture. Nay, Alexan- der himself, in the account he immediately gave of the plot to Craterus, Attains, and Alcetas, writes, " That the young men, when put to the torture, declared, it was entirely their own enter- prise, and that no man beside was privy to it." Yet afterward, in a letter to Antipater, he af- firms, that Callisthenes was as guilty as the rest. " The Macedonians," says he, " have stoned the young men to death. As for the sophist, I will punish him myself, and those that sent him too: nor shall the towns that harbored the conspira- tors escape." In which he plainly discovers his aversion to Aristotle, by whom Callisthenes was brought up as a relation; for he was the son of Hero, Aristotle's niece. His death is variously related. Some say, Alexander ordered him to b* hanged; others, that he fell sick and died in chains: and Chares writes, that he was kept seven months in prison; in order to be tried in full council in the presence of Aristotle; but that he died of ex- cessive corpulency and the lousy disease, at the time that Alexander was wounded by the Malli OxydraciB, in India. This happened, however, at a later period than that we are upon. In the meantime, Dernaratus, the Corinthian, though far advanced in years, was ambitious of going to see Alexander. Accordingly he took the voyage, and when he beheld him, he said, "The Greeks fell short of a great pleasure, who did not live to see Alexander upon the throne of Darius." But he did not live to enjoy the king's friendship. He sickened and died soon after. The king how- * Olynthns was one of the cities destroyed by Philip; whether Alexander permitted the philosopher to re-establish it is uncertain; but Cicero informs us, that, in his time, it was a flourishing place. Vide Or. iii. in Verrem. * Dacier is of opinion, that., by this action, the flatterer wanted to insinuate, that Alexander ought to be reckoned 1 among the domestic gods. But, as the king sat in that part i of the room where the Penates were, we rather think it waj 1 a vile excuse to the man's own conscience for this act of re j ligious worship, because their position made it dubiou*, i whether it was intended t~< r Alexander or fur them. ALEXANDER 455 ver, performed his obsequies in the most magnifi- cent manner; and the army threw up for him a monument of earth of great extent, and fourscore cubits high. His ashes were carried to the sea-shore in a chariot and four, with the richest ornaments. When Alexander was upon the point of setting out for India, he saw his troops were so laden with spoils, that they were unfit to march. Therefore, early in the morning that he was to take his departure, after the carriages were assem- bled, he first set fire to his own baggage and that of his friends; and then gave orders that the rest should be served in the same manner. The reso- lution appeared more difficult to take, than it was to execute. Few were displeased at it, and num- bers received it with acclamations of joy. ,They freely gave part of their equipage to such as were in need, and burned and destroyed whatever was superfluous. This greatly encouraged and forti- fied Alexander in his design. Beside, by this time he was become inflexibly severe in punishing of- fenses, Menander, though one of his friends, he put to death for refusing to stay in a fortress he had given him the charge of; and one of the barba- rians, named Osodates, he shot dead with an arrow for the crime of rebellion. About this time a sheep yeaned a lamb, with the perfect form and color of a tiara upon its head, on each side of which were testicles. Look- ing upon the prodigy with horror, he employed the Chaldeans, who attended him for such pur- poses, to purify him by their expiations. He told his friends, on this occasion, "That he was more troubled on their account than his own; for he was afraid that after his death, fortune would throw the empire into the hands of some obscure and weak man." A better omen, however, soon dissipated his fears. A Macedonian, named Prox- enus, who had the charge of the king's equipage, on opening* the ground, by the river Oxus, in order to pitch his master's tent, discovered a spring of a gross oily liquor; which after the sur- face was taken off, came perfectly clear, and neither in taste, nor smell differed from real oil, nor was inferior to it in smoothness and bright- ness, though there were no olives in that country. It is said, indeed, that the water of the Oxus is of so unctuous a quality, that it makes the skins of those who bathe in it, smooth and shining.f It appears, from a letter of Alexander's, to Anti- pater, that he was greatly delighted with this in- cident, and reckoned it one of the happiest pre- sages the gods had afforded him. The sooth- sayers said, it betokened, that the expedition would prove a glorious one, but at the same titne laborious and difficult, because Heaven has given men oil to refresh them after their labors. Ac- cordingly, he met with great dangers in the battles that he fought, and received very considerable wounds. But his army suffered most by want of necessaries, and by the climate. For his part, he was ambitious to show that courage can triumph over fortune, and magnanimity over force: he thought nothing invincible to the brave, or impregnable to the bold. Pursuant to this opinion, when he be- sieged SisirnethresJ upon a rock extremely steep * Strabo (lib. ii.) ascribes the same properties to the ground near the river Ochus. Indeed, the Uuhus and the Oxus unite their streams, and flow together into the Caspian sea. t Pliny tells us, that the surface of these rivers was a consistence of salt, and that the waters flowed under it. as un- der a cruet of ice. The salt consistence he imputes to the de- fluxions from the neighboring mountains, but be says no- thing of the unctuous qualities of these waters, mentioned by Plutarch. Nat. Hist. lib. xxxi. t Tli is stronghold was situated in Bactriona. Strabo lays, it was fifteen furlongs high, as many in compass, arid and apparently inaccessible, and saw his men greatly discouraged at the enterprise, he asked Oxyartes, " Whether Sisimethres was a man of spirit?" And being answered, " That he was timorous and dastardly," he said, "You inform me the rock may be taken, since there is no strength in its defender." In. fact, he found means to intimidate Sisimethres, and made himself master of the fort. In the siege of another fort, situated in a place equally steep, among the young Macedonians that were to give the assault, there was one called Alexander; and the king took occasion to say to him, " You must behave gallantly, my friend, to do justice to your name." He was informed afterward, that the young man fell as he was distinguishing himself in a glorious manner, and he laid it much to heart. When he sat down before Nysa,* the Macedo- nians made some difficulty of advancing to the attack, on account of the depth of the river that washed its walls, until Alexander said, " What a wretch am I, that I did not learn to swim," and was going to ford it with a shield in his hand. After the first assault, while the troops were re- freshing themselves, ambassadors came with an offer to capitulate; and along with them deputies from some other places. They were surprised to see him in j^rmor, without any pomp or ceremony; and their astonishment increased when he bade the oldest of the ambassadors, named Acuphis, take the sofa that was brought for himself. Acu- phis, struck with a benignity of reception, so far beyond his hopes, asked what they must do to be admitted into his friendship? Alexander an- swered, " It must be on condition that they ap- point you their governor, and send me a hundred of their best men for hostages." Acuphis smiled at this, and said, " I should govern better if you would take the worst, instead of the best." It is said the dominions of Taxiles, in India,f were as large as Egypt: they afforded excellent pasturage too, and were the most fertile in all re- spects. As he was a man of great prudence, ho waited on Alexander, and after the first compli- ments, thus addressed him: "What occasion is there for wars between you and me, if you are not come to take from us our water and other necessaries of life; the only things that reason- able men will take up arms for? As to gold and silver, and other possessions, if I am richer than you, I am willing to oblige you with part; if I am poorer, I have no objection to sharing in your bounty." Charmed with his frankness, Alexan- der took his hand, and answered, " Think you, then, with all this civility, to escape without a con- flict? Yon are much deceived, if you do. I will dispute it with you to the last; but it shall be in favors and benefits; for I will not have you exceed me in generosity." Therefore, after having re- ceived great presents from him, and made greater, he said to him one evening, " I drink to you, Taxiles, and as sure as you pledge me, you shall have a thousand talents." His friends were of- fended at his giving away such immense sums, but it made many of the barbarians look upon him with a kinder eye. The most warlike of the Indians used to fight for pay. Upon this invasion they defended the cities that hired them with great vigor, and that the top was a fertile plain, capable of maintaining fir hundred. It was in Bactriana that Alexander married Roxana, the daughter of Oxyartes. Arrian calls it Nyssa, so indeed does the Vulcob. MS. That historian places it near mount Meris, and adds, thai if was built by Dionysius or Bacchus. Hence it had ib name of Dionysiopolis. It is now called Nerg. t Between the Indus and the Hyda*p*. 456 PLUTARCH' S LIVES. Alexander suffered by them not a little. To one of the cities he granted an honorable capitulation, and yet seized the mercenaries, as they were upon their march homeward, and put them all to the sword. This is the only blot in his mili- tary conduct; all his other proceedings were agreeable to the laws of war, and worthy of a king.* The philosophers gave him no less trouble than the mercenaries, by endeavoring to fix a mark of infamy upon those princes that declared for him. and by exciting the free nations to take up arms; for which reason he hanged many of them. As to his war with Porus, we have an account of it in his own letters. According to them, the river Hydaspes was between the two armies, and Porus drew up his elephants on the banks oppo- site the enemy with their heads toward the stream, to guard it. Alexander caused a great noise and bustle to be made every day in his camp, that the barbarians, being accustomed to it, might not be BO ready to take the alarm. This done, he took the advantage of a dark and stormy night, with part of his infantry, and a select body of cavalry, to gain a little island in the river, at some distance from the Indians. When he was there, he and his troops were attacked with a most violent wind and rain, accompanied with dreadful tkunder and lightning. But, notwithstanding this hurricane, in which he saw several of his men perish by the lightning, he advanced from the island to the opposite bank. The Hydaspes, swelled with the rain, by its violence and rapidity made a breach on that side, which received water enough to form a bay, so that when he carne to land, he found the bank extremely slippery, and the ground bro- ken and undermined by the current. On this occasion he is said to have uttered that celebrated saying, "Will you believe, my Athenian friends, what dangers 1 undergo to have you the heralds of my fame?" The last particular we have from Onesicritus; but Alexander himself only says, they quitted their boats, and, armed as they were, waded up the breach breast high; and that when they were landed, he advanced with the horse twenty furlongs before the foot, concluding that if the enemy attacked him with their cavalry, he should be greatly their superior, and that if they made a movement with their infantry, his would come up time enough to receive them. Nor did he judge amiss. The enemy detached against him a thousand horse and sixty armed chariots, and he defeated them with ease. The chariots he took, and killed four hundred of the cavalry upon the spot. By this, Porus understood that Alexander himself had passed the river, and therefore brought up his whole army, except what appeared necessary to keep the rest of the Macedonians from making good their passage. Alexander, considering the force of the elephants, and the enemy's superior numbers, did not choose to engage them in front, but attacked the left wing himself, while Csenus, according to his orders, fell upon the right. Both wings being broken, retired to the elephants in the center, and rallied there. The combat then was of a more mixed kind; but maintained with such obstinacy, that it was not decided until the eighth hour of the day. This description of the battle we have from the conqueror himself, in one of his epistles. * It was just and lawful, it seems, to go about harassing and destroying those nations that had never offended him and upon which he had no claim, except that avowed by the northern barbarians when they entered Italy, namely, Ihat the weak must submit to the strong! Indeed, those bar! irians were much honester men, for they had another and 91 better plea; they went to keek bread. Most historians agree that Porus was fonr cu- bits and a palm high, and that though the elephant he rode was one of the largest, his stature and bulk were such, that he appeared but proportion- ably mounted. This elephant, during the whole battle, gave extraordinary proofs of his sagacity and care of the king's person. As long as that prince was able to fight, he defended him with great courage, and repulsed all assailants; and when he perceived him ready to sink under the multitude of darts and the wounds with which lie was covered, to prevent his falling off, he kneeled down in the softest manner, and with his pro- boscis gently drew every dart out of his body. When Porus was taken prisoner, Alexander ask- ed him, " How he desired to be treated? " He an- swered, " Like a king." " And have you nothing else to request?" replied Alexander. "No," said he; "everything is comprehended in the word king." Alexander not only restored him his own dominions immediately, which he was to govern as his lieu- tenant, but added very extensive territories to them; for having subdued a free country, which contained fifteen nations, five thousand consider- able cities,* and villages in proportion, he be- stowed it on Porus. Another country, thre& times as large, he gave to Philip, one of his friends, who was also to act there as his lieutenant, In the battle with Porus, Bucephalus received several wounds, of which he died some time after. This is the account most writers give us: but Onesicritus says, he died of age and fatigue, for he was thirty years old. Alexander showed as much regret as if he had lost a faithful friend and companion. He esteemed him, indeed, as such; and built a city near the Hydaspes, in the place where he was buried, which he called, after him, Bucephalia. He is also reported to have built a city, and called it Peritas, in memory of a dog of that name, which he had brought up and was very fond of. This particular, Sotio says, he had from Potamo of Lesbos. The combat with Porus abated the spirit of the Macedonians, and made them resolve to proceed no farther in India. It was with difficulty they had defeated an enemy who brought only twenty thousand foot and two thousand horse into the field; and therefore they opposed Alexander with great firmness when he insisted that they should pass the Ganges, f which, they were informed, was thirty-two furlongs in breadth, and in depth a hundred fathom. The opposite shore, too, was covered with numbers of squadrons, battalions, and elephants. For the kings of the Gandarites and Pnusians were said to be waiting for them there, with eighty thousand horse, two hundred thou- sand foot, eight thousand chariots, and six thou- sand elephants trained to war. Nor is this num- ber at all magnified: for Androcottus, who reigned not long after, made Seleucus a present of five hundred elephants at one time, and with an army} of six hundred thousand men traversed India, and conquered the whole. Alexander's grief and indignation at this refusal * Some transcriber seems to have given us the number of inhabitants in onecity for the number of cities. Arrian's account is this: "He took thirty-seven cities, the least of which contained five thousand'inhabitants, and several of them above ten thousand. He took also a great number of villages, not. less populous than the cities, and gave the ' government of the country to Porus." t The Ganges is the largest of all the rivers in the three continents, the Indus the second, the Nile the third, and j the Danube the fourth. j t Uacier says Jive thousand, but does not mention his au- ! thority. Perhaps it wa* only a slip in the writing, or of tii* i printing. ALEXANDER. 457 'ere such, that first he shut himself up in his tent, and lay prostrate on the ground, declaring, " He did not thank the Macedonians in the least for what they had done, if they would not pass the Ganges; for he considered a retreat no other than an acknowledgment that he was overcome." His friends omitted nothing that might comfort him; and at last their remonstrances, together with the cries and tears of the soldiers, who were suppliants at his door, melted him, and prevailed on him to return. However, he first contrived i many vain and sophistical things to serve the purposes of fame; among which were arms much bigger than his men could use, and higher man- gers, and heavier bits than his horses required, left scattered up and down. He built also great altars for which the Praesians still retain much veneration, and their kings cross the Ganges every year to offer sacrifices in the Grecian man- ner upon them. Androcottus, who was then very young, haa a sight of Alexander, and he is re- ported to have often said afterward, " That Alex- ander was within a little of making himself master of all the country; with such hatred and contempt was the reigning prince looked upon, on account of his profligacy of manners, and meanness of birth." Alexander, in his march from thence, formed a design to see the ocean; for which purpose he caused a number of row-boats and rafts to be constructed, and, upon them, fell down the rivers at his leisure. Nor was this navigation unattended with hostilities. He made several descents by the way, and attacked the adjacent cities, which were all forced to submit to his victorious arms. How- ever, he was very near being cut in pieces by the Malli, who are called the most warlike people in India. He had driven some of them from the wall with his missive weapons, and was the first snun that ascended it. But presently, after he was up, the scaling-ladder broke. Finding him- Belf and his small company much galled by the darts of the barbarians from below, he poised himself, and leaped down into the midst of the enemy. By good fortune he fell upon his feet; and the barbarians were so astonished at the flash- ing of his arms as he came down, that they thought they beheld lightning, or some superna- tural splendor issuing from his body. At first, therefore, they drew back and dispersed. But when they had recollected themselves, and saw him attended only by two of his guards, they attacked him hand-to-hand, and wounded him through his armor with their swords and spears, notwithstanding the valor with which he fought. One of them standing farther off, drew an arrow with such strength, that it made its way through his cuirass, and entered the ribs under the breast. Its force was so great, that he gave back and was brought upon his knees, and the barbarian ran up with his drawn scimitar to dispatch him. Peucestas and Limnaeus* placed themselves before him, but one was wounded and the other killed. Peucestas, who survived, was still making some resistance, when Alexander recovered himself and laid the barbarian at his feet. The king, how- ever, received new wounds, and at last had such a blow from a bludgeon upon his neck, that he was forced to support himself by the wall, and there stood with his face to the enemy. The Mace- donians, who by this time had got in, gathered about him, and carried him off to his tent. His senses were gone, and it was the current report in the army that he was dead. When they U. Curtius calls him Timaus. had, with great difficulty, sawed off the shaft, which was of wood, and with equal trouble had taken off the cuirass, they proceeded to extract the head, which was three fingers broad, and four long, and stuck fast in the bone. He fainted under the operation, and was very near expiring; but when the head was got out, he came to him- self. Yet after the danger was over, he continued weak, and a long time confined himself to a regu- lar diet, attending solely to the cure of his wound. The Macedonians could not bear to be so long de- prived of the sight of their king; they assembled in a tumultuous manner about his tent. When he perceived this, he put on his robe, and made his appearance; but as soon as he had sacrificed to the gods, he retired again. As he was on his way to the place of his destination, though car- ried in a litter by the water side, he subdued a large tract of land, and many respectable cities. In the course, of this expedition, he took ten of the Gymnosopkisls,* who had been principally concerned in instigating Sabbas to revolt, and had brought numberless other troubles upon the Mace- donians. As these ten were reckoned the most acute and concise in their answers, he put the most difficult questions to them that could be thought of, and at the same time declared, he would put 'the first person that answered wrong to death, and after him all the rest. The oldest man among them was to be the judge. He demanded of the first, "Which were most numerous, the living or the dead?" He answer- ed, "The living, for the dead no longer exist."f The second was asked, "Whether the earth or the sea produced the largest animals?" He an- swered, "The earth, for the sea is part of it." The third, "Which is the craftiest of all ani- mals?" " That," said he, " with which man is not yet acquainted. ''$ The fourth, "What was his reason for per- suading Sabbas to revolt?" "Because," said he, " I wished him either to live with honor, or to die as a coward deserves." The fifth had this question put to him, "Which do you think oldest, the day or the night?" He answered, "The day, by one day." As the king appeared surprised at this solution, the philosopher told him, "Abstruse questions must have abstruse answers." Then addressing himself to the sixth, he de- manded, "What are the best means for a man to make himself loved?" He answered, "If pos- sessed of great power, do not make yourself fear- ed." The seventh was asked, " How a man might become a god?" He answered, "By doing what is impossible for man to do " The eighth, "Which is strongest, life or death?" " Life," said he; " because it bears so many evils." The last question that he put was, " How long is it good for a man to live?" " As long," said the philosopher, "as he does not prefer death to life." Then turning to the judge, he ordered him to * The philosophers, so called from their going naked, were divided into two sects, the Brachmani and the Germani. TIi Brachmani were most esteemed because there was a consist- ency in their principles. Apuleius tells us, that not only the scholars, but the younger pupils were as- sembled about dinner time, and examined what good they had done that day; and such as could not point out some act of humanity, or useful pursuit that they had been engaged in, were not allowed any dinner. t They did not hold the mortality, but the transmigration of the soul. t This we suppose to mean man himself, as not being ac- quainted with himself. 458 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. give sentence, The old man said, " In my opinion they have all answered one worse tnan another." "If this is thy judgment," said Alexander, " thou ehalt die first." " No," replied the philosopher, '' not except you choose to break your word: for you declared the man that answered worst should first suffer." The king loaded them with presents, and dis- missed them. After which he sent Onesicritus, a disciple of Diogenes, to the other Indian sages who were of most reputation, and lived a retired life, to desire them to come to him. Onesicritus tells us, Calanus treated him with great insolence and harshness, bidding him to strip himself na- ked, if he desired to hear any of his doctrine; "You should not hear me on any other condition," said he, " though you came from Jupiter him- self." Dandamis behaved with morecivility; and when Onesicritus had given him an account of Pythagoras, Socrates, and Diogenes, he said, "They appeared to him to have been men of ge- nius, but to have lived with too passive a regard to the laws." Others say, Dandamis entered into no discourse with the messenger, but only asked, " Why Alex- ander had taken so long a journey?" As to Ca- lanus, it is certain Taxiles prevailed with him to go to Alexander. His true name was Sphines; but because he addressed them with the word Cale, which is the Indian form of salutation, the Greeks call him Calanus. This philosopher, we are told, presented Alexander with a good image of this empire. He laid a dry and shriveled hide before him, and first trod upon the edges of it. This he did all round; and as he trod on one side, it started up on the other. At last he fixed his feet on the middle, and then it lay still. By this emblem he showed him that he should fix his resi- dence, and plant his principal force in the heart of his empire, and not wander to the extremities. Alexander spent seven months in falling down the rivers to the ocean. When he arrived there, he embarked, and sailed to an island which he called Scilloustis,* but others call it Psiltoucis. There he landed and sacrificed to the gods. He likewise considered the nature of the sea and of the coast, as far as it was accessible. And after having besought Heaven, "That no man might ever reach beyond the bounds of his expedition," he prepared to set out on his way back. He ap- pointed Nearchus admiral, and Onesicritus chief pilot, and ordered his fleet to sail round, keeping India on the right. With the rest of his forces he returned by land, through the country of the Ori- tes; in which he was reduced to such extremities, and lost such numbers of men, that he did not bring back from India above a fourth part of the army he entered it with, which was no less than a hundred and twenty thousand foot, and fifteen thousand horse. Violent distempers, ill diet, and excessive heats, destroyed multitudes; but famine made still greater ravages. For it was a barren and uncultivated country; the natives lived mise- rably, having nothing to subsist on but a few bad sheep, which used to feed on the fish thrown up by the sea; consequently they were poor, and their flesh of a bad flavor. With much difficulty he traversed this country in sixty days, and then arrived in Gedrosia. There he found provisions in abundance; for beside that the land is fertile in itself, the neighboring princes and grandees supplied him. After he had given his army some time to refresh themselves, he Arrian calls it Cilutta. Here they first observed the ebbing and flowiv.g of the sea, which surprised them not a little. narched in Carman ia for seven days in a kind of Bacchanalian procession. His chariot, which was very magnificent, was drawn by eight horses. Upon it was placed a lofty platform, where he and iis principal friends reveled day and night. This carriage was followed by many others, some cov- red with rich tapestry and paper hangings, and others shaded with branches of trees fresh gather- ed and flourishing. In these were the rest of the king's friends and generals, crowned with flowers, and exhilarated with wine. In this whole company there was not to be seen buckler, a helmet, or spear; but, instead of them, ups, flagons, and goblets. These the soldiers dipped in huge vessels of wine, and drank to each other, some as they marched along, and others seated at tables, which were placed at proper dis- tances on the way. The whole country resounded with flutes, clarionets, and songs, and with the dances and riotous frolics of the women. This disorderly and dissolute march was closed with a very immodest figure, and with all the licentious ribaldry of the Bacchanals, as if Bacchus himself had been present to carry on the debauch. When Alexander arrived at the royal palace of Gedrosia, he gave his army time to refresh them- selves again, and entertained them with feats and public spectacles. At one of these, in which the choruses disputed the prize of dancing, he ap- peared inflamed with wine. His favorite Bagoaa happening to win it, crossed the theater in his habit of ceremony, and seated himself by the king. The Macedonians expressed their satisfaction with loud plaudits, and called out to the king to kiss him; with which at last he complied. Nearchus joined him again here, and he was so much delighted with the account of his voyage, that he formed a design to sail in person from the Euphrates with a great fleet, circle the coast of Arabia and Africa, and enter the Mediterranean by the pillars of Hercules. For this purpose, he constructed, at Tlmpsacus, a number of vessels of all sorts, and collected mariners and pilots. But the report of the ^difficulties he had met with in his Indian expedition, particularly in his attack of the Malli, his great loss of men in the country of the Orites, and the supposition he would never re- turn alive from the voyage he now meditated, ex- cited his new subjects to revolt, and put his gene- rals and governors of provinces upon displaying their injustice, insolence, and avarice. In short, the whole empire was in commotion, and ripe for rebellion. Olympias and Cleopatra, leaguing against Antipater, had seized his hereditary do- minions, and divided them between them. Olym- pias took Epirus, and Cleopatra, Macedonia. The tidings of which being brought to Alexander, he said, " His mother had considered right; for the Macedonians would never bear to be governed by a woman." In consequence of this unsettled state of things, he sent Nearchus again to sea, having determined to carry the war into the maritime provinces. Meantime he marched in person to chastise his lieutenants for their misdemeanors. Oxyartes, one of the sons of Abulites, he killed with his own hand, by a stroke of his javelin. Abulites had laid in no provisions for him; he had only collected three thousand talents in money. Upon his presenting this, Alexander hade him offer it to his horses; and, as they did not touch it, he said, "Of what use will this provision now be to me?" and immediately ordered Abulites to be taken into custody. The first thing he did after he entered Persia, was to give this money to the matrons, according ALEXANDER. 459 the ancient custom of the kings, who, upon their return from any excursion to their Persian domin- ions, used to give every woman a piece of gold. For this reason, several of them, we are told, made it a rule to return but seldom; and Ochus never did; he banished himself to save his money. Having found the tomb of Cyrus broken open, he put the author of that sacrilege to death, though a native of Pella,and a person of some distinction. His name was Polymachus. After he had read the epilapk, which was in the Persian language, he ordered it to be inscribed also in Greek. It was as follows: O MAN! WHOSOEVER THOU ART, AND WHENSOEVER THOU COMEST (FOR COME I KNOW THOU WILT), I AM CYRUS, THE FOUNDER OF THE PERSIAN EMPIRE, ENVY ME NOT THE LITTLE EARTH THAT COVERS MY BODY. Alexander was much affected at these words, which placed before him in so strong a light the uncertainty and vicissitude of things. It was here that Calanus, after having been dis- ordered a little while with the cholic, desired to have his funeral pile erected. He approached it on horseback, offered up his prayers to Heaven, poured the libations upon himself, cut off part of his hair,* and threw it on the fire: and, before he ascended the pile, took leave of the Macedonians, desiring them to spend the day in jollity and drink- ing with the king; " For I shall see him," said he, " in a little time at Babylon." So saying, he stretched himself upon the pile, and covered him- self up. Nor did he move at the approach of the flames, but remained in the same posture until he had finished his sacrifice, according to the custom of the sages of his country. Many years after, another Indian did the same before Augustus Ca3- sar, at Athens, whose tomb is shown to this day, and called ike Indian's tomb. Alexander, as soon as he retired from the fune- ral pile, invited his friends and officers to supper, and, to give life to the carousal, promised that the man who drank most should be crowned for his victory. Pro machus drank four measures of wine,t and carried off the crown, which was worth a ta- lent, but survived it only three days. The rest of the guests, as Chares tells us, drank to such a de- gree, that forty-one of them lost their lives, the weather coming upon them extremely cold during their intoxication. When he arrived at Susa, he married his friends to Persian ladies. He set them the example, by taking Statira, the daughter of Darius, to wife, and then distributed among his principal officers the virgins of highest quality. As for those Ma- cedonians who had alre'ady married in Persia, he made a general entertainment in commemoration of their nuptials. It is said, that no less than nine thousand guests sat down, and yet he presented each with a golden cup for performing the liba- tion. Everything else was conducted with the utmost magnificence; he even paid off all their dbts; insomuch that the whole expense amounted to nine thousand eight hundred and seventy ta- le r.is. An officer, who had but one eye, named Anti- genes, put himself upon the list of debtors, and produced a person who declared he was so much in his books. Alexander paid the money; but afterward discovering the fraud, in his anger for- bade him the court, and took away his commis- sion. There was no fault to be found witii him * As some of the hair used to be cut from the forehead of victims. t About fom teen quarts. The chxus was six pints, nine- tenths. as a soldier. He had distinguished himself in his youth under Philip, at the siege of Perinthus, where he was wounded in the eye with a dart shot from one of the engines; and yet he would nei- ther suffer it to be taken out, nor quit the field, until he had repulsed the enemy and forced them to retire into the town. The poor wretch could not bear the disgrace he had now brought upon himself; his grief and despair was so great that it was apprehended he would put an end to his own life. To prevent such a catastrophe, the king forgave him, and ordered him to keep the money. The thirty thousand boys, whom he left under proper masters, were now grown so much, and made so handsome an appearance; and, whut was of more importance, had gained such an activity and address in their exercises, that he was greatly delighted with them. But it was matter of un- easiness to the Macedonians; they were apprehen- sive that the king would have less regard for them. Therefore, when he gave the invalids their route to the sea, in order to their return, the whole army considered it as an injurious and oppressive measure: " He has availed himself," said they, " beyond all reason, of their services, and now he sends them back with disgrace, and turns them upon the hands of their country and their parents, in a very different condition from that in which he received them. Why does he not dismiss us all! Why does he not reckon all the Mace- donians incapable of service, now he has got this body of young dancers? Let him go with them and conquer the world." Alexander, incensed at this mutinous behavior loaded them with reproaches; and ordering them off, took Persians for his guards, and filled up other offices with them. When they saw their king with these new attendants, and themselves rejected and spurned with dishonor, they were greatly humbled. They lamented their fate to each other, and were almost frantic with jealousy and anger. At last, coming to themselves, they repaired to the king's tent, without arms, in one thin garment only; and with tears and lamenta- tions delivered themselves up to his vengeance; desiring he would treat them as ungrateful men deserved. He was softened with their complaints, but would not appear to hearken to them. They stood two days and nights, bemoaning themselves in this manner, and calling for their dear master. The third day he came out to them: and when he saw their forlorn condition, he wept a long time. After a gentle rebuke for their misbehavior, he condescended to converse with them in a free manner; and such as were unfit for service, he sent over with magnificent presents. At the same time, he signified his pleasure to Antipater, that at all public diversions they should have the most honorable seats in the theaters, and wear chaplets of flowers there; and that the children of those who had lost their lives in his service, should have their father's pay continued to them. When he came to Ecbatana in Media, and had dispatched the most urgent affairs, he employed himself again in the celebration of games and other public solemnities; for which purpose three thousand artificers, lately arrived from Greece, were very serviceable to him. But unfortunately Hephajstion fell sick of a fever in the midst of this festivity. As a young man and a soldier, he could not bear to be kept to strict diet; and taking the opportunity to dine when his physician Glaucus was gone to the theater, he ate a roasted fowl, and drank a flagon of wine made as cold as possible; 460 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. in consequence of which he grew worse, and died a few days after. Alexander's grief on this occasion exceeded all bounds. He immediately ordered the horses and mules to be shorn, that they might have their share in the mourning, and with the same view pulled down the battlements of the neighboring cities. The poor physician he crucified. He for- bade the flute and all other music in his camp for a long time. This continued until he received an oracle from Jupiter Ammon, which enjoined him to revere Hephsestion, and sacrifice to him as a demigod. After this he sought to relieve his sorrow by hunting, or rather by war; for his game were men. In this expedition he conquered the Cut-sseans, and put all that were come to the years of puberty to the sword. This he called a sacri- fice to the manes of Hephaestion! He designed to lay out ten thousand talents upon his tomb and the monumental ornaments, me to put on this robe and diadem, a:td sit her* thus explained himself, in silence." After the man had Alexander, by the advice of his soothsayers, put him to death. But the anguish of his mind in- creased; on one hand, he almost despaired of the succors of Heaven, and on the other distrusted his friends. He was most afraid of Antipater and his sons; one of which, named lolaus,* was his cup- bearer; the other, named Cassander, was lately arrived from Macedonia; and happening to see some barbarians prostrate themselves before the king, like a man accustomed only to the Grecian man- ners, and a stranger to such a sight, he burst out into a loud laugh. Alexander, enraged at the affront, seized him by the hair, and with both hands dashed his head against the wall. Cassan- der afterward attempted to vindicate his father against his accusers; which greatly irritated the king. "What is this talk of thine?" said he, and that the workmanship, as well as design, should |" Dost thou think that men who had suffered no exceed the expense, great as it was. He there- injury, would come so far to bring a false charge?" fore desired to have Stasicrates for his architect, "Their coming so far," replied Cassander, "is an whose genius promised a happy boldness and grandeur in everything that he planned. This was the man who had told him, some time before, that Mount Athos in Thrace was most capable of being cut into a human figure; and that, if he had but his oruers, he would convert it into a statue for him, the most lasting and conspicuous in the world; a statue which should have a city with ten thousand inhabitants in his left hand, and a river that flowed to the sea with a strong current in its right. He did not, however, embrace that pro- posal, though at that time he busied himself with his architects in contriving and laying out even more absurd and expensive designs. As he was advancing toward Babylon, Nearchus, who was returned from his expedition on the ocean, and came up the Euphrates, declared, he had been applied to by some Chaldaeans, who were strongly of opinion that Alexander should not enter Babylon. But he slighted the warning and continued his march. Upon his approach to the walls, he saw a great number of crows fighting, some of which fell down dead at his feet. Soon after this, being informed, that Apollodorus, go- vernor of Babylon had sacrificed, in order to consult the gods concerning him, he sent for Pythagoras, the diviner; and, as he did not deny the fact, asked him how the entrails of the victim appeared. Pythagoras answered, the liver was without a head. "A terrible presage, indeed!" said Alexander. He let Pythagoras go with impunity: but by this time he was sorry he had not listened to Nearchus. He lived mostly in his pavilion without the walls, and diverted himself with sail- ing up and down the Euphrates. For there had happened several other ill omens that much dis- turbed him. One of the largest and handsomest lions that were kept in Babylon, was attacked and kicked to death by an ass. One day he stripped for the refreshment of oil, and to play at ball: after the diversion was over, the young men who play- ed with him, going to fetch his clothes, beheld a man sitting in profound silence on his throne, dressed in the royal robes, with the diadem upon his head. They demanded who he was, and it was a long time before he would answer. At last, coming to himself, he said, "My name is Diony- si us, and I am a native of Messene. Upon a criminal process against me, I left the place, and embarked for Babylon. There I have been kept a long time in chains. But this day the god Serapis appeared to me, and broke my chains; after which he conducted rne hither, and ordered argument that the charge is false, because they are at a distance from those who are able to con- tradict them." At this Alexander smiled, and said, " These are some of Aristotle's sophisms, which make equally for either side of the ques- tion. , But be assured I will make you repent it, these men have had the least injustice done them.' This, and other menaces, left such a terror upon Cassander, and made so lasting an mpres- sion upon his mind, that many years after, when king of Macedon, and master of all Greece, as he was walking about at Delphi, and taking a view of the statues, the sudden sight of that of Alexander is said to have struck him with such horror, that he trembled all over, and it was with difficulty he recovered of the giddiness it caused in his brain. When Alexander had once given himself up to superstition, his mind was so preyed upon by vain fears and anxieties, that he turned the least inci- dent which was anything strange and out of the way, into a sign or a prodigy. The court swarm- ed with sacrifices, purifiers, and prognosticators; they were all to be seen exercising their talents there. So true it is, that though the disbelief of religion, and contempt of things divine, is a great evil, yet superstition is a greater. For as water gains upon low grounds, so superstition prevails over a dejected mind, and fills it with fear and folly. This was entirely Alexander's case. How- ever, upon the receipt of some oracles concerning Hephsestion, from the god he commonly consultedj he gave a truce to his sorrows, and employed him- self in festive sacrifices and entertainments. One day, after he had given Nearchus a sump- tuous treat, he went, according to custom, to refresh himself in the bath in order to retire to rest. But in the meantime Medius came and invited him to take part in a carousal, and he could not deny him. There he drank all that night and the next day, until at last he found a fever coming upon him. It did not, however, seize him as he was drinking the cup of Hercules, nor did he find a sudden pain in his back, as if it had been pierced with a spear. These are circumstances invented by writers, who thought the catastrophe of so noble a tragedy should be something affecting and extraordinary. Aristobulus tells us, that in the rage of his fever, and the violence of his thirst, he took a draught of wine, which threw him into a frenzy, and that he died the thirtieth of the month Daesius (June) * Arrian and Curtius call him lottos. Plutarch calls him lolas below. C.ES A R. 461 But in his Journals the account of his sickness is as follows. "On the eighteenth of the month Daesius, finding the fever upon him, he lay in his bath room. The next day, after he had bathed, he removed into his own chamber, and played many hours with Medius at dice. In the evening he bathed again, ai;d after having sacrificed to the gods, lie ate iiis supper. In the night the fever returned. The twentieth he also bathed, and, after the customary sacrifice, sat in the bath-room, and diverted himself with hearing Nearchus tell the story of his voyage, and all that was most ob- servable with respect to the ocean. The twenty- first was spent in the same manner. The fever increased, and he had a very bad night. The twenty-second, the. fever was violent. He ordered his bed to be removed, and placed by the great bath. There he talked to his generals about the vacancies in his army, and desired they might be filled up with experienced officers. The twenty- fourth, he was much worse. He chose, however, to be carried to assist at the sacrifice. He like- wise gave orders, that the principal officers of the army should wait within the court, and the others keep watch all night without. The twenty-fifth, he was removed to his palace, on the other side of the river, where he slept a little, but the fever did not abate; and when his generals entered the room he was speechless. He continued so the day fol- lowing. The Macedonians, by this time, thinking he was dead, came to the gates with great clamor, and threatened the great officers in such a man- ner, that they were forced to admit them, and suffer them all to pass unarmed by the bed-side. The twenty-seventh, Python and Seleucus were sent to the temple of Serapis, to inquire whether they should carry Alexander thither, and the deity ordered that they should not remove him. The twenty-eighth, in the evening, he died." These particulars are taken almost word for word from his diary. There was no suspicion of poison at the time of his death; but six years after (we are told) Olympias, upon some information, put a number of| people to death, and ordered the remains of lolas, who was supposed to have given him the draught, to be dug out of the grave. Those who say Aristotle advised Antipater to such a horrid deed, and fur- nished him with the poison he sent to Babylon, allege one Agnothernis as their author, who is pretended to have had the information from king Aatigonus. They add, that the poison was a water of a cold and deadly quality,* which distils from a rock in the territory of Nonacris; and that they receive it as they would do so many dew- drops, and keep it in an ass's hoof; its extreme coldness and acrimony being such, that it makes its way through all other vessels. The generality however, look upon the story of the poison as a mere fable; and they have this strong argument in their favor, that though, on account of the dis- putes which the great officers were engaged in for many days, the body lay unembalmed in a sultry place, it had no sign of any taint, but continued fresh and clear. Roxana was now pregnant, and, therefore, had great attention paid her by the Macedonians. But being extremely jealous of Statira, she laid a snare for her by a forged letter, as from Alexander; and having, by this means, got her under her power, she sacrificed both her and her sister, and threw their bodies into a well, which she filled up with earth. Perdiccas was her accomplice in this mur- der. Indeed, he had now the principal power, which he exercised in the name of AridEeus, whom he treated rather as a screen than as a king. Aridseus was the son of Philip, by a courtesan named Philinna, a woman of low birth. His de- ficiency in understanding was the consequence of a distemper, in which neither nature nor accident had any share. For it is said, there was some- thing amiable and great in him when a boy; which Olympias perceiving, gave him potions that disturbed his brain.f JULIUS CJ1SAR. WHEN Sylla had made himself master of Rome,* he endeavored to bring Csesar to repudi- ate Cornelia, daughter to China, one of the late tyrants; and finding he could not effect it, either by hopes or fears, he confiscated her dowry. * Hence it was called the Stygian water. Nonacris was a city of Arcadia. t Portraits of the same person, taken at different periods of life, though they differ greatly from each other, retain a resemblance upon the whole. And so it is in general with the characters of men. But Alexander seems to be an ex- ception; for nothing can admit of greater dissimilarity than th:U which entered into his disposition at different times, and in different circumstances. He was brave and pusillan- imous, merciful and cruel, modest and vain, abstemious and luxurious, rational and superstitious, polite and overhearing, politic and imprudent. Nor were these changes casual or temporal; the style of his character underwent a total revo- lution, and he passed from virtue to vice in a regular and progressive manner. Munificence and pride were the only characteristics that never forsook him. If there were any vice of which he was incapable, it was avarice; if any vir- tue, it was humility. t Some imagine that the beginning of this life is lost; but if they look back to the introduction to the life of Alex- arder.that notion will vanish. i Caesar would not make such a sacrifice to the dictator Indeed, Caesar, as a relation to Marius, was natu- rally an enemy to Sylla. Old Marius had married Julia, Caesar's aunt, and, therefore, young Marius, the son he had by her, was Caesar's cousin-ger- man. At first, Sylla, amidst the vast number of proscriptions that engaged his attention, over- looked this enemy; but Ca3sar, not content with escaping so, presented himself to the people, as a candidate for the priesthood,* though he was not yet come to years of maturity. Sylla exerted his influence against him, and he miscarried. The dictator afterward thought of having him taken off, and when some said, there was no need to put as Piso had done, who, at his command, divorced his wife Annia. Pompey, too, for the sake of Sylla's alliance, repudiated Antistia. * Caesar had the priesthood before Sylla was dictator. In the seventeenth year of his age, he broke his engagement to Consutia, though she was of a consulai and opulent family, and married Cornelia, the daughter of Cinna, by whose interest, and that of Marius, he was created Flamen Dialis, or priest of Jupiter. t?ylla, when absolute master of Rome, insisted on his divorcing Cornelia, and, upou his >w- fusal, deprived him of that office. Sutton. in Julio. 462 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. such a boy to death, he answered, " their sugacit} was small, if they did not in that boy see man) Mariuses." This saying being reported to Caesar, he con cealed himself a long time, wandering up an< down in the country of the Sabines. Amidst his movements from house to house, he fell sick, am on that account was forced to be carried in a lit ter. The solaiers employed by Sylla to searcl those parts, and drug the proscribed persons from tiieir retreats, one night fell in with him; bu Cornelius, who commanded there, was prevailec on, by a bribe of two talents, to let him go. He then hastened to sea, and sailed to Bithynia where he sought protection of Nicornedes the king. His stay, however, with him was not long He re-embarked, and was taken near the island of Pharmacusa, by pirates, who were masters of that sea, and blocked up all the passages with a number of galleys and other vessels. Tiiey askec him only twenty talents for his ransom. He laughed at their demand, as the consequence of their not knowing him, and promised them fifty talents. To raise the money, he dispatched his people to different cities, and in the meantime remained with only one friend and two attendants among these Cilicians, who considered murder as a trifle. Caesar, however, held them in great contempt, and used to send, whenever he went to sleep, and order them to keep silence. Thus he lived among them thirty-eight days, as if they had been his guards, rather than his keepers. Per- fectly fearless and secure, he joined in their diver- sions, and took his exercises among them. He wrote poems and orations, and rehearsed them to these pirates; and when they expressed no admi- ration, he called them dunces and barbarians. Nay, he often threatened to crucify them. They were delighted with these freedoms, which they imputed to his frank and facetious vein. But as soon as the money was brought from Miletus, and he had recovered his liberty, he manned some vessels in the port of Miletus,* in order to attack these corsairs. He found them still lying at anchor by the island, took most of them, together with the money, and imprisoned them at Perga- mus. After which, he applied to Junius who then commanded in Asia, because to him, as praa- tor, it belonged to punish them. Junius having an eye upon the money, which was a considerable sum, demurred about the matter; and Caesar, perceiving his intention, returned to Pergamus, and crucified all the prisoners, as he had often threatened to do at Pharmacusa, when they took him to be in jest. When the power of Sylla came to be upon the decline, Cojsar's friends pressed him to return to Rome. But first he went to Rhodes, to study under Apollonius, the son of Molo,f who taught * Dacier reads Me.los, which was one of the Cyclades, but does not mention his authority. t It should be Jpollonius Molo, not Apollonius the son of Molo. According to Suetonius, Cassar had studied under him at Rome, before this adventure of the pirates. Thus far Dacier and Ruauld; and other critics say the same. Yet Strabo (1. xiv. p. (>55, 6GO, GG1.) tells us, Molo and Apollonius were two different men. He affirms, that thev were both natives of Abbanda, a city of Caria; that they were both scholars, of Menacles, the Alabandian; and that they both professed the same art at Rhodes, though Molo went thither later than Apollonins. Cicero, likewise seems to distinguish them, calling the one Molo, and the Other Apollonius the Alabandian, especially in his first book De Oratorc, whe-e he introduces M. Antonius speaking of him thus: "For t'lis one thing I always liked Apollonius the Alahandian; though he taught for" money, he did not. suffer any, whom he thought, incapable of making a figure as orators, to lose their time and labor with him, but sent them home, exhorting them t~> apply tliem.>elve.s to that art (o: which they were, in his oj.inion, best qualified." rhetoric there with great reputation, and was a man of irreproachable manners. Cicero also wa one of his scholars. Csar is said to have had happy talents from nature for a public speaker and he did not want an ambition to cultivate them; so that undoubtedly he was the second ora- tor in Rome; and he might have been the first, had he not rather chosen the pre-eminence in arms. Thus he never rose to that pitch of elo- quence to which his power would have brought him, being engaged in those wars and political intrigues which at last gained the empire. Hence it was, that afterward in his Anticato, which he wrote in answer to a book of Cicero's, he desired, his readers " Not to expect in the performance of a military man the style of a complete orator, who had bestowed all his time upon such studies." Upon his return to Rome, he impeached Dola- bella for misdemeanors in his government, and many cities of Greece supported the charge by their evidence. Dolabella was acquitted. Caesar, however, in acknowledgment of the readiness Greece had shown to serve him, assisted her in her prosecution of Publius Antonius for corrup- tion. The cause was brought before Marcus Lu- cullus, praetor of Macedonia; and Csesar pleaded it in so powerful a manner, that the defendant was forced to appeal to the tribunes of the people; alleging, that he was not upon equal terms with the Greeks in Greece. The eloquence he showed at Rome in defending persons impeached, gained him a considerable interest, and his engaging address and conversa- tion carried the hearts of the people. For he had a condescension not to be expected from so young man. At the same time, the freedom of his table and the magnificence of his expense gradu- ally increased his power, and brought him into the administration. Those who envied him, ima- gined that his resources would soon fail, and therefore, at first, made light of his popularity, considerable as it was. But when it was grown to such a hight that it was scarce possible to de- molish it, and had a plain tendency to the ruin of the constitution, they found out, when it was too late, that no beginnings of things, however small, are to be neglected; because continuance nakes them great; and the very contempt they are held in gives them opportunity to gain that strength which cannot be resisted. Cicero seems to be the first who suspected something formidable from the flattering calm of "oesar's political conduct, and saw deep and dan- gerous designs under the smiles of his benignity. I perceive," said the orator, "an inclination for tyranny in all he projects and executes; but on ,he other hand, when I see him adjusting his hair with so much exactness, and scratching his head with one finger, I can hardly think that such a nan can conceive so vast and fatal a design as :he destruction of the Roman commonwealth." This, however, was an observation made at a much later period than that we are upon. The first proof he had of the affection of the >eople was when he obtained a tribuneship in the army before his competitor Caius Popilius. The second was more remarkable; it was on occasion f his pronouncing from the rostrum the funeral >ration of his aunt Julia, the wife of Marius, iu which he failed not to do justice to her virtue. To solve this difficulty we are willing to suppose, with luanld, that there were two Molos cotemporaries: for he testimonies of Suetonius (in Cses.ire, c. 4.), and oi' fttiintilian (Institut. 1. xii. c. (5.), that Caesar and C:cero were pupils to Apollouius Molo, can never be overruled. C M S A R. 463 Al the sainn time he had the hardiness to produce the images of Marius, which had not been seen before during Sylia's administration; Marius and all his adherents having been declared enemies to the state. Upon this some began to raise a clamor against Caesar: but they were soon silenced by the acclamations and plaudits of the people, ex- pressing their admiration of his courage in bring- ing the honors of Marius again to light, after so long a suppression, and raising them, as it were, from the shades be.low. It had long been the custom in Rome, for the aged women to have funeral panegyrics, but not the young. Caesar first broke through it by pro- nouncing one for his own wife, who died in her prime. This contributed to fix him in the affec- tions of the people; they sympathized with him, and considered him as a man of great good nature, and one who had the social duties at heart. After the f u neral of his wife, he went out quaestor into Spain with* Antistius Veter the praetor, whom he honored all his life after; and when he came to he praetor himself, he acknowledged the favor by taking Veter's son for his quaestor. When that commission was expired, he took Pompeia to his third wife; having a daughter by his first wife Cornelia, whom he afterward married to Pompey the Great. Many people who observed his prodigious ex- pense thought he was purchasing a short and transient honor very dear, but, in fact, he was gaining the greatest things he could aspire to, at a small price. He is said to have been a thousand three hundred talents in debt, before he got any public employment. When he had the superin- tendence of the Appian road, he laid out a great deal of his own money; and when sedile, he not only exhibited three hundred and twenty pair of gladiators, but in the other diversions of the thea- ter, in the processions and public tables, he far outshone the most ambitious that had gone before Viim. These things attached the people to him so strongly, that every one sought for new honors and employments, to recompense his generosity. There were two factions in the state, that of Sylla, which was the strongest; and that of Ma- rius, which was in a broken and low condition. Caesar's study was to raise and revive (he latter. In pursuance of which intention, when his exhibi- tions as a3dile were in the highest reputation, he caused new images of Marius to be privately made, together with a representation of his victories adorned with trophies, and one night placed them in the capitol. Next morning these figures were seen glistering with gold, of the most exquisite workmanship, and bearing inscriptions which de- clared them the achievements of Marius against the Cirnbri. The spectators were astonished at the boldness of the man who erected them; nor was it difficult to know who he was. Th report spread with the utmost rapidity, and the whole city assembled to see them. Some ex- claimed, that Ocesar plainly affected the tyranny, by openly producing those honors which the laws had condemned to darkness and oblivion. This, they said, was done to make a trial of the people, whom he had prepared by his caresses, whether they would suffer themselves to be entirely caught by his venal benefactions, and let him play upon them and make what innovations he pleased. On the other hand, the partisans of Marius en- couraging each other, ran to the capitol in vasl numbers, and made it echo with their plaudits. $ome of them even wept for joy at the sight of See Veil. Paterculus, ii. 43. Marius's countenance. They bestowed the high- est encomiums upon Caesar, and declared he was the only relation worthy of that great man. The senate was assembled on the occasion, and Lutatius Catulus, a man of the greatest reputation n Rome, rose and accused Caesar. In his speeo against him was this memorable expression, ' You no longer attack the commonwealth by mines, ut by open battery." CtBsar, however, defended is cause so well that the senate gave it for him; lid his admirers, still more elated, desired him to keep up a spirit of enterprise, for he might gain everything with the consent of the people, arid easily become the first man in Rome. Amidst these transactions, died Metellus, the principal pontiff. The office was solicited by Isauricus and Catulus, two of the most illustrious men in Rome, and of the greatest interest in the senate. Nevertheless, Cresardid not give place to them, but presented himself to the people as a can- didate. The pretensions and prospects of the com- petitors seemed almost equal, and Catulu.s, more uneasy than the others, under the uncertainty of success, on account of his superior dignity, sent privately to Caasar, and offered him large sums, on condition that he would desist from his high pursuit. But he answered, " He would rather borrow still larger sums to carry his election." When the day of election came, Caesar's mo- ther attending him to the door, with her eyes bathed in tears, he embraced her and said, " My deal mother, you will see me this day either chief pon- tiff or an exile." There never was anything more strongly contested; the suffrages, however, gave it for Caesar. The senate, and others of the principal citizens, were greatly alarmed at this success; they apprehended that he would now push the people into all manner of licentiousness and misrule. Therefore, Piso and Catulus blamed Cicero much for sparing Cresar, when Catiline's conspiracy gave him an opportunity to take him off. Catiline, whose intention was not so much to make alterations in the constitution, as entirely to subvert it, and throw all into confusion, upon some slight suspicions appearing against him, quitted Rome before the whole was unraveled; but he left behind him Lentulus and Cethegus to conduct the conspiracy within the city. Whether Caesar privately encouraged and sup- ported them, is uncertain; what is universally agreed upon, is this, The guilt of those two con- spirators clearly appearing,' Cicero, as consul, took the sense of the senators as to the punishment that should be inflicted upon them; and they all gave it for death, until it came to Ccesar's turn, who, in a studied speech represented, " That it seemed neither agreeable to justice, nor to the customs of their country, to put men of their birth and dig- nity to death, without an open trial, except in case of extreme necessity. But that they should rather be kept in prison, in any of the cities of Italy, that Cicero might pitch upon, until Catiline was subdued; and then the senate might take cog- nizance of the crimes of each conspirator in full peace, and at their leisure." As there appeared something humane in this opinion, and it was powerfully enforced by the orator, those who gave their voices afterward, and even many who had declared for the other side of the question, came into it. But Cato and Catulus carried it for death. Cato, in a severe speech against the opinion of Caesar, scru- pled not to declare his suspicions of him; and this with other arguments, had so much weight that the two conspirators were delivered to the executioner. Nay, as Caesar was going out of 464 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. the senate-house, several of the young men who guarded Cicero's person, ran upon him with their drawn swords; but we are told that Curio covered him with his gown, and so carried him off; and ^-hat Cicero himself, when the young men looked at him for a nod of consent, refused it ; either out of fear of the people, or because he thought the killing him unjust and unlawful. If this was true, I know not why Cicero did not mention it in the history of his consulship. He was blamed, however, afterward, for not availing himself of so good an opportunity as he then had, and for being influenced by his fears of the people, who were indeed strongly attached to Caesar: for a few days after, when Caesar entered the senate, and endea- vored to clear himself of the suspicions he lay under, his defense was received with indignation, and loud reproaches; and as they sat longer than usual, the people beset the house, and with violent outcries demanded Caesar, absolutely in- sisting on his being dismissed. Cato, therefore, fearing an insurrection of the indigent populace, who were foremost in all sedi- tions, and who had fixed their hopes upon Caesar, persuaded the senate to order a distribution of bread-corn among them every month, which add- ed five million, five hundred thousand drachmas to the yearly expense of the state.* This expe- dient certainly obviated the present danger, by seasonably reducing the power of Caesar, who was now praetor elect, and more formidable on that account. Caesar's prastorship was not productive of any trouble to the commonwealth, but that year there happened a disagreeable event in his own family. There was a young patrician, named Publius Clo- dius, of great fortune, and distinguished eloquence, but at the same time one of the foremost among the vicious and the profligate. This man entertained a passion for Pompeia, Caesar's wife, nor did she dis- countenance it. But the women's apartment was so narrowly observed, and all the steps of Pompeia so much attended to by Aurelia, Caesar's mother, who was a woman of great virtue and prudence, that it was difficult and hazardous for them to have an interview. Among the goddesses the Romans worship, there is one they call Bona Dea, the good goddess, as the Greeks have one they call Gyntscea, the patroness of the women. The Phrygians claim her as the mother of their king Midas; the Ro- mans say, she was a Dryad, and wife of Fau- nus; and the Greeks assure us, she is that mother of Bacchus, whose name is not to be uttered. For this reason, the women, when they keep her fes- tival, cover their tents with vine branches; and according to the fable, a sacred dragon lies at the feet of the goddess. No man is allowed to be present, nor even to be in the house, at the cele- bration of her orgies. Many of the ceremonies the women then perform by themselves, are said to be like those in the feasts of Orpheus. When the anniversary of the festival comes, the consul, or praetor (for it is at the house of one of them it is kept,) goes out, and not a male is left in it. The wife, now having the house to her- self, decorates it in a proper manner; the myster- ies are performed in the night; and the whole is spent in music and play. Pompeia, this year, was the directress of the feast, Clodius, who was yet a beardless youth, thought he might pass in women's apparel, undiscovered, and having taken the garb and instruments of a female musician, perfectly reflfttnbtai one. He found the door open, and was safely introduced by a rnuid servant who knew * But this distribution did not continue long, 498. " the affair. She ran before to tell Pompeia; and as she stayed a considerable time, Clodius durst riot remain where she left him, but wandering about the great house, endeavored to avoid the lights. At last Aurelia's woman fell in with him, and sup- posing she spoke to a woman, challenged him to play. Upon his refusing it, she drew him into the midst of the room, and asked him who he was, and whence he came? He said he waited for Abra, Pompeia's maid, for that was her name. His voice immediately detected him: Aurelia's woman ran up to the lights and the company, crying out she had found a man in the house. The thing struck them all with terror and aston- ishment. Aurelia put a stop to the ceremonies, and covered up the symbols of their mysterious worship. She ordered the doors to be made fast, and with lighted torches hunted up and down for the man. At length Clodius was found lurking in the chamber of the maid servant who had introduced him. The women knew him, and turned him out of the house; after which, they went home immediately, though it was yet night, and informed their husbands of what had happened. Next morning the report of the sacrilegious at- tempt spread through all Rome, and nothing was talked of, but that Clodius ought to make satis- faction with his life, to the family he had offended, as well as to the city and to the gods. One of the tribunes impeached him with impiety; and the principal senators strengthened the charge, by accusing him, to his face, of many villanous de- baucheries, and among the rest, of incest with his own sister, the wife of Lucullus. On the other hand, the people exerted themselves with equal vigor in his defense, and the great influence the fear of them had upon his judges was of much service to his cause. Caesar immediately divorced Pompeia; yet, when called as an evidence on the trial, he declared he knew nothing of what was alleged against Clodius. As this declaration appeared somewhat strange, the accuser demanded, why, if that was the case, he had divorced his wife: "Because," said he, " I would have the chas- tity of my wife clear even of suspicion." Some say, Caesar's evidence was according to his con- science; others that he gave it to oblige the people, who were set upon saving Clodius. Be that as it might, Clodius came off clear; most of the judges having confounded the letters upon the tablets, that they might neither expose themselves to the re- sentment of the plebeians, if they condemned him, nor lose their credit with the patricians, if they ac- quitted him. The government of Spain was allotted Caesar after his praetorship.* But his circumstances were so indifferent, and his creditors so clamorous and troublesome when he was preparing for bio departure, that he was forced to apply to Crassus, the richest man in Rome, who stood in need of Caesar's warmth and vigor to keep up the balance against Pompey. Crassus, therefore, took upon him to answer the most inexorable of his creditors, and engaged for eight hundred and thirty talents; which procured him liberty to set out for his province. It is said, that when he came to a little town, in passing the Alps, his friends, by way of mirth, took occasion to say, "Can there here be any disputes for offices, any contentions for preceden- cy, or such envy and ambition as we see among the great?" To which Caesar answered, with * It was the povernment of the Farther .Spain only that fell to his lot. This province comprehended Lusilani'a ami Baetica: that is, Portugal and A CAESAR. 465 5 great seriousness, "I assure you, I had rather be the first man here, than the second man in Rome." In like manner we are told, that when he was in Spain, he bestowed some leisure hours on reading part of the history of Alexander, and was so much affected with it, thaf he sat pensive a long time, and at last burst out into tears. As his friends were wondering what might be the reason, he said, "Do you think I have not suffi- cient cause for concern, when Alexander at my age reigned over so many conquered countries, and I have not one glorious achievement to boast?" From this principle it was, that immediately upon his arrival in Spain he applied to business with great diligence, and having added ten newly raised cohorts to the twenty he received there, he marched against the Callaecians and Lusitanians, defeated them, and penetrated to the ocean, re- ducing nations by the way that had not felt the Roman yoke. His conduct in peace was not in- ferior to that in the war; he restored harmony among the cities, and removed the occasions of quarrel between debtors and creditors. For he ordered that the creditor should have two-thirds of the debtor's income, and the debtor the re- maining third, until the whole was paid. By these means he left the province with great repu- tation, though he had filled his own coffers, and enriched his soldiers with booty, who, upon one of his victories, saluted him Imperator. At his return he found himself under a trou- blesome dilemma: those that solicit a triumph being obliged to remain without the walls, and such as sue for the consulship, to make their personal appearance in Rome. As these were things that he could not reconcile, and his arrival happened at the time of the election of consuls, he applied to the senate for permission to stand candidate, though absent, and offer his service by 'iis friends. Cato strongly opposed his request, nsisting on the prohibition by law; and when he saw numbers influenced by Caesar, he attempt- ed to prevent his success by gaining time; with which view he spun out the debate until it was too late to conclude upon anything that day. Caesar then determined to give up the triumph, and solicit the consulship. As soon as he had entered the city, he went to work upon an expedient which deceived all the world except Cato. It was the reconciling of Pompey and Crassus, two of the most powerful men in Rome. By making them friends, Caesar secured the interest of both to himself, and while he seemed to be only doing an office of humanity, he was undermining the constitution. For it was not, what most people imagine, the disagree- ment between Caesar and Pompey that produced tlie civil wars, but rather their union: they first combined to ruin the authority of the senate, nnd when that was effected, they parted to pursue each his own designs. Cato, who often prophesied what would be the consequence, was then looked upon as a troublesome and overbusy man; afterward he was esteemed a wise, though not a fortunate counselor. Meantime Caesar walked to the place of elec- tion between Crassus and Pompey; and, under the auspices of their friendship, was declared con- sul, with distinguished honor, having Calpurnius Bibulus given him for his colleague. He had no sooner entered upon his office than he proposed laws not so suitable to a consul as to a seditious tribune; I mean the bills for a division of lands ud a distribution of corn, which were entirely 30 calculated to please the plebeians. As the viitu- ous and patriotic part of tlie senate opposed them, he was furnished with the pretext lie had loujj wanted: he protested with great warmth, " That they threw him into the arms of tlie people against his will, and that the rigorous and dis- graceful opposition of the senate, laid him under the disagreeable necessity of seeking protection from tlie commons." Accordingly lie immedi- ately applied to them. Crassus planted himself on one side of him, and Pompey on the other. He demanded of them aloud, "whether they approved his laws?" and, as they answered in the affirmative, he de- sired their assistance against those who threat- ened to oppose them with the sword. They de- clared they would assist him; and Pompey added, "Against those who come with the sword, I will bring both sword and buckler." This expression gave the patricians great pain: ft appeared not only unworthy of his character, the respect the senate had for him, and the reverence' due to them, but even desperate and frantic. The peo- ple, however, were pleased with it. Caesar was willing to avail himself still further of Pompey's interest. His daughter Julia was betrothed to Servilius Csepio, but, notwithstand- ing that engagement, he gave her to Pompey; and told Servilius he should have Pompey's daughter, whose hand was not properly at liberty, for she was promised to Faustus the son of Sylla. Soon after this, Caesar married Calpuruia, the daughter of Piso, and procured the consulship for Piso for the year ensuing. Mean while "Cato exclaimed loudly against these proceedings, and called both gods and men to witness how insup- portable it was, that the first dignities of the state should be prostituted by marriages, and that this traffic of women should gain them what governments and forces they pleased. As for Bibulus, Caesar's colleague, when he found his opposition to their new laws entirely unsuccessful, and that his life, as well as Cato's, was often endangered in the public assemblies, he shut himself up in his own house during the remainder of the year. Immediately after this marriage, Pompey filled the forum with armed men, and got the laws en- acted which Ca3sar had proposed merely to in- gratiate himself with the people. At the same time the government of Gaul, both on this and the other side the Alps, was decreed to Caesar for five years; to which was added Illyricum, with four legions. As Cato spoke against these regu- lations, Caesar ordered him to be taken into cus- tody, imagining he would appeal to the tribunes. But when he saw him going to prison without speaking one word, and observed that it not only gave the nobility great uneasiness, but that the people, out of reverence for Cato's virtue, follow- ed him in melancholy silence, he whispered one of the tribunes to take him out of the lictors* hands. Very few of the body of senators followed Cresar on this occasion to' the house. Tlie great- est part, offended at such acts of tyranny, had withdrawn. Considius, one of the oldest senators that attended, taking occasion to observe, "That it was the soldiers and naked swords that kept the rest from assembling," Csesar sai.l, "Why does not fear keep you at borne too?" Considius replied, "Old age is my defense; the small re- mains of my life deserves not much care or precaution." The most disgraceful step, however, that C.'psar took iu his whole consulship, was the getting 466 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Clodius elected tribune of the people; the same who had attempted to dishonor his bed, and had profanes the mysterious rites of the Good God- dess. He pitched upon him to ruin Cicero; nor would lie set out lor his government before he had embroiled them, and procured Cicero's ban- ishment. For history informs us, that all these transactions preceded his wars in Gaul. The wars he conducted there, and the many glorious campaigns in which he reduced that country, re- present him as another man: we begin, as it were, with a new life, and have to follow him in a quite different track. As a warrior and a general, we behold him not in the least inferior to the great- est and most admired commanders the world ever produced. For whether we compare him with the Fabii, the Scipios, and Metelli, with the generals of his own time, or those who flourished a little before him, with Sylla, Marius, the two Luculli, or with Pompey himself, whose fame in every military excellence reached the skies, Cae- sar's achievements bear away the palm. One he surpassed in the difficulty of the scene of action, another in the extent of the countries he sub- dued; this, in the number and strength of the enemies he overcame; that, in the savage man- ners and treacherous disposition of the people he humanized; one in mildness and clemency to his prisoners, another, in bounty and munificence to his troops; and all, in the number of battles that he won, and enemies that he killed. For in less than ten years' war in Gaul, he took eight hun- dred cities by assault, conquered three hundred nations, and fought pitched battles at different times with three millions of men, one million of which he cut in pieces, and made another million prisoners. Such, moreover, was the affection of his sol- diers, and their attachment to his pwrson, that they who under other commanders were nothing above the common rats of men, became invin- cible where Cffisar's glory was concerned, and met the most dreadful dangers with a courage that nothing could resist. To give three or four instances: Acilius, in a sea-fight near Marseilles, after he had boarded one of the enemy's ships, had his right hand cut off with a sword, yet he still held his buckler in his left, and pushed it in the ene- my's faces, until he defeated them, and took the vessel. Cassius Scaeva, in the battle of Dyrrhachium, after he had an eye shot out with an arrow, his shoulder wounded" with one javelin, his thigh run through with another, and had received a hun- dred and thirty darts upon his shield,* called out to the enemy, as if he would surrender himself. Upon this, two of them came up to him, and he gave one of them such a stroke upon the shoul- der with the sword, that the arm dropped off; the the other he wounded in the face, and made him retire. His comrades then came up to his assist- ance, and he saved his life. In Britain, some of the vanguard happened to be entangled in a deep morass, and were there attacked by the enerny, when a private soldier, in the sight of Caesar, threw himself into the midst of the assailants, and, after prodigious exer- tions of valor, beat off the barbarians, and res- cued the men. After which, the soldier, with * Cffisar (Bell. Civ. 1. iii.) says, this brave soldier receiv- ed two hundred and thirty darts upon his shield, and adds, thathe rewarded hi* bravery with two hundred thousand sesterces, and promoted him from the eighth rank to the first. He likewise ordered the soldiers of that cohort double pay, beside other military rewards. much difficulty, partly by swimming, partly by wading, passed the morass, but in the passage lost his shield. Cffisar, and those about him, astonished at the action, ran to meet him with acclamations of joy; but the solc'ier, in great dis- tress, threw himself at Caesar's feet, and, with tears in his eyes, begged pardon for the loss of his shield. In Africa, Scipio having taken one of Caesar's ships, on board of which was Granius Petronius, lately appointed quaestor, put the rest to the sword, but told the quaestor, "He gave him his life." Petronius answered, "It is not the custom of Csesar's soldiers to take, but to give quar- ter," and immediately plunged his sword in his breast. This courage, and this great ambition, were cultivated and cherished, in the first place, by the generous manner in which Ceesar rewarded his troops, and the honors which he paid them; for his whole conduct showed that he did not accu- mulate riches in the course of his wars, to min- ister to luxury, or to serve any pleasures of his own; but that he laid them up in a common bank, as prizes to be obtained by distinguished valor, and that he considered himself no farther rich than as he was in a condition to do justice to tho merit of his soldiers. Another thing that con- tributed to make them invincible was thtfir see- ing Caesar always take his share in danger, and never desire any exemption from labor and fatigue. As for his exposing his person to dinger, they were not surprised at it, because thtiy knew his passion for glory, but they were astonished at his patience under toil, so far i'u "ill appearance abovo his bodily powers. For he wafi of a slender make, fair, of a delicate constitution, and subject to violent headaches and epileptic fits. He had the first attack of the falling sickness at Corduba. He did not, however, make these disorders a pre- tense for indulging himself. On the contrary, he sought in war a remedy for his infirmities, endea- voring to strengthen his constitution by long marches, by simple diet, by seldom coming undor covert. Thus he contended with his distemper, and fortified himself against its attacks. When he slept, it was commonly upon a march, either in a chariot or a litter, that rest might be no hinderance to business. In the day-time he visited the castle?, cities, and fortified camps, with a servant at his side, whom he employed, on such occasions, to write for him, and with a soldier behind, who carried his sword. By these means he traveled so fast, and with so little interrup- tion, as to reach the Rhone in eight days after his first setting out for those parts from Rome. He was a good horseman in his early years, and brought that exercise to such perfection by practice, that he could sit a horse at full speed with his hands behind him. In this expedition he also accustomed himself to dictate letters as he rode on horseback, and found sufficient em- ployment for two secretaries at once, or, according to Oppius, for more. It is also said, that Cffisar was the first who contrived to communicate his thoughts by letter to his friends who were in the same city with hirn, when any urgent affair re- quired it, and the multitude of business or great extent of the city did not admit of an interview. Of his indifference with respect to diet they give us these remarkable proofs: Happening to sup with Valerius Leo, a friend of his at Milan, ihere was sweet ointment poured upon the asparagus, instead of oil. Caesar ate of it freely, notwith- standing, and afterward rebuked his friends for CAESAR. 467 expressing their dislike of it. "It was enough," naid lie, " to forbear eating, if it was disagreeable to yon. He who finds fault with any rusticity, is himself a rustic." One day as he was upon an excursion, a violent storm forced him to seek shelter in a poor man's hut, where there was only one room, and that icarce big enough for a man to sleep in. Turn- ing, therefore, to his friends, he said, " Honors for the great, and necessaries for the infirm," and immediately gave up the room to Oppius, while himself and the rest of the company slept under a shed at the door. t His first expedition in Gaul was against the Helvetians and the Tigurini; who, after having burned twelve of their own towns and four hun- dred villages, put themselves under inarch, in order to penetrate into Italy, through that part of Gaul which was subject to the Romans, as the Cirnbri and Teutones would have done before them. Nor were these new adventurers inferior to the other in courage; and in numbers they were equal; being in all three hundred thousand, of which a hundred and ninety thousand were fighting men. Ca?sar sent his lieutenant, Labie- nus, against the Tigurini, who routed them near the river Arar.* But the Helvetians suddenly attacked Caesar, as he was on file march to a con- federate town.f He gained a strong post for his troops, notwithstanding the surprise; and when he had drawn them up, his horse was brought him. Upon which he said, " When I have won the battle I shall want my horse for the pursuit; at present, let us march as we are against the enemy." Accordingly he charged them with great vigor on foot.J It cost him a long and severe conflict to drive their army out of the field; but he found the greatest difficulty when he came to their rampart of carriages; for not only the men made a most obstinate stand there, but the very women and children fought until they were cut in pieces; insomuch that the battle did not end before mid- night. To this great action he added a still greater. He collected the barbarians who had escaped out of the battle, to the number of a hundred thou- sand, and upward, and obliged them to settle in the country they had relinquished, and to rebuild the cities they had burned. This he did, in fear that if the country were left without inhabitants, the Germans would pass the Rhine, and seize it. His second war was in defense of the Gauls against the Gerrnans, though he had before hon- ored their king Ariovistus with the title of an ally of Rome. They proved insupportable neighbors to those he had subdued, and it was easy to see, that instead of being satisfied with their present acquisitions, if opportunity offered, they would extend their conquests over all Gaul. He found, * Csesar says himself, that he left Labienus to guard the works he bad raised from the lake of Geneva to mount Jura, and that he marched in person, at the head of three legions, to attack the Tigurini, in their passage over the Arar, now the Saone, and killed great numbers of them. t Bibracte, now Autun. t He sent back his horse, and the rest followed his exam- ple. This he did to prevent all hopes of a retreat, as well as to show his troops that he would take his share in all the danger. Vide Bell. Gall. lib. i. The ^Edui implored bis protection against Ariovistus, king of the Germans, who, taking advantage of the dif- ferences which had long subsisted between them and the Arverni, had joined the latter, made himself master of great part of the country of the Sequani, and obliged the J5dui to give him their children as hostages. The ^Edui were the people of Autun; the Arverni of Auvergne* and the Seqnani of Franche Comte. Cats. Bell. Gall. lib. i. however, his officers, particularly those of the young nobility, afraid of this expedition; for they had entered into Caesar's service only in the hopes of living luxuriously and making their fortunes. He therefore called them together, and told them, before the whole army, " That they were at liberty to retire, and needed not hazard their persons against their inclinations, since they were so un- manly and spiritless. For his part, he would march with the tenth legion only against these barbarians: for they were neither better men than the Cimbriaus, nor was he a worse general than Marius." Upon this, the tenth legion deputed some of their corps to thank him. The other legions laid the whole blame upon their officers, and all followed him with great spirit and alacrity. After a march of several days, they encamped within two hundred furlongs of the enemy. Caesar's arrival broke the confidence of Ario- vistus. Instead of expecting that the Romans would come and attack him, he had supposed they would not dare to stand the Germans when they went in quest of them. He was much sur- prised, therefore, at this bold attempt of Caesar, and, what was worse, he saw his own troops were disheartened. They were dispirited still more by the prophesies of their matrons, who had the care of divining, and used to do it by the eddies of rivers, the windings, the murmurs, or other noise made by the stream. On this occasion, they charged the army not to give battle before the new moon appeared. Caesar having got information of these matters, and seeing the Germans lie close in their camp, thought it better to engage them while thus de- jected, than to sit still and wait their time. For this reason he attacked their intrenchments and the hills upon which they were posted, which provoked them to such a degree that they de- scended in great fury to the plain. They fought, and were entirely routed. Csesar pursued them to the Rhine, which was three hundred furlongs from the field of battle, covering all the way with dead bodies and spoils. Ariovistus reached the river time enough to get over with a few troops. The number of killed is said to have amounted to eighty thousand. After he had thus terminated the war, he left his army in winter quarters in the country in the Sequani, and repaired to Gaul, on this side th Po, which was part of his province, in order to have an eye upon the transactions in Rome. For the river Rubicon parts the rest of Italy from Cis- alpine Gaul. During his sfay there he carried on a variety of state intrigues. Great numbers came from Rome to pay their respects to him, and he sent them all away satisfied; some laden with pre- sents, and others happy in hope. In the same manner throughout all his wars, without Pom- pey's observing it, he was conquering his enemies by the arms of the Roman citizens, and gaining the citizens by the money of his enemies. As soon as he had intelligence that the Belgae, who were the most powerful people in Gaul, and whose territories made up a third part of the whole country, had revolted and assembled a great army, he marched to that quarter with incredible expedition. He found them ravaging the lands of those Gauls who were allies of Rome, defeat- ing the main body, which made but a feeble resistance, and killed such numbers, that lakes and rivers were filled with the dead, and bridges were formed of their bodies. Such of the insur- gents as dwelt upon the sea-coast, surrendered without opposition. From thence he led his army against the Nep- 463 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. vii,* who live among thick woods. After they Lad secured their families and most valuable goods, in the best manner they could, in the heart of a large forest, at a great distance from fhe enemy, they marched, to the number of sixty thousand, and fell upon Caesar, as he was fortify- ing his cump, and had not the least notion of sucti an attack.t They first routed his cavalry, and then surrounded the twelfth and seventh legions, and killed all the officers. Had not Ctesar snatch- ed a buckler from one of his men, forced his way through the combatants before him, and rushed upon the barbarians; or had not the tenth legion, seeing his danger, ran from the bights where they were posted, and mowed down the enemy's ranks, in all probability not one Roman would have sur- vived the battle. But though encouraged by this bold act of Csesar, they fought with a spirit above their strength, they were not able to make the Nervii turn their backs. Those brave men main- tained their ground, and were hewed to pieces upon the spot. It is said that out of sixty thou- sand not above five hundred were saved, and out of four hundred Nervian senators not above three. Upon the news of this great victory, the senate of Rome decreed that sacrifices should be offered, and all manner of festivities kept up, for fifteen days together, which was a longer term of rejoic- ing than had ever been known before. Indeed, the danger appeared very great, on account of so many nations rising at once; and as Cresar was the man who surmounted it, the affection the people had for him made the rejoicing more bril- liant. After he had settled the affairs of Gaul, on the other side the Alps, he crossed them again, and wintered near the Po, in order to maintain his interest in Rome; where the candidates for the great offices of state were supplied with money out of his funds to corrupt the people, and after they had carried their election, did every- thing to extend his power. Nay, the greatest and most illustrious personages went to pay their court to him at Lucca, among whom were Pom- pey, Crassus, Appius governor of Sardinia, and Nepos, proconsul in Spain. So that there were a hundred and twenty lictors attending their masters, and above two hundred senators honored him with their assiduities. After they had fixed upon a plan of business, they parted. Pompey and Crassus were to be consuls the year ensuing, and, to get Caesar's government prolonged for five years more, with supplies out of the treasury for his occasions. The last particular appeared ex- tremely absurd to all men of sense. They who * Their country is now called Hainault and Cambre- is. t As this attack -vas unexpected, Csesar had, in a man- ner, everything to do at the same instant. The banner was to be erected, the charge sounded, the soldiers at a distance recalled, the army drawn up, and the signal given. In this surprise, he ran from place to place, exhorting his men 'o remember their former valor, and, having drawn them up in the best manner he could, caused the signal to be given. The legionaries made a vigorous resistance; but, as the enemy seemed determined either to conquer or die, the success was different in different places. In the left wing, the ninth and the tenth legions did wonders, drove the Atrebates into a neighboring river, and made a great slaugh- ter of them. In another place, the eighth and eleventh legion* repulsed the Vermaudui, and drove them before them. But in the right wing, the seventh and twelfth legions suffered extremely. They were entirely surrounded by the Nervii, all the centurions of the fourth cohort being slain and most of the other officers wounded. In this extremity, Czesar snatched a buckler from one of the private men, put himself at the head of his broken wing, and being joined by the two legions which he had left to guard the baggage, fell upon the Nervii, already fatigued, with fresh vigor, and nade a dreadful havoc of them. received so much of Caesar's money, persuadet the senate to give him money, as if he was in want of it; or rather, they insisted it should be done, and every honest man sighed inwardly while he suffered the decree to pass. Cato, indeed, was absent, having been sent with a com- mission to Cyprus on purpose that he might be out of the way. But Favonius, who trod in Cato'a steps, vigorously opposed those measures ; and when he found that his opposition availed no- thing, he left the house, and applied to the people, exclaiming against such pernicious counsels. No one, however, attended to him; some being over- awed by Pompey and Crassus, and others influ- enced by regard for Caesar, in whose smile alone they lived and all their hopes flourished. Ca?sar, at his return to his army in Gaul, found another furious war lighted up in the country; the Usi petes and the Teuchteri,* two great Ger- man nations, having crossed the Rhine to make conquests. The account of the affair with them we shall take from Caesar's own Commentaries. These barbarians sent deputies to him to propose a suspension of arms, which was granted them. Nevertheless they attacked him as he was making an excursion. With only eight hundred horse, however, who were not prepared for an engage- ment, he beat their cavalry, which consisted of five thousand. Next day they sent other deputies to apologize for what had happened, but without any other intention than that of deceiv- ing him again. These agents of theirs he detained, and marched immediately against them; thinking it absurd to stand upon honor with such perfi- dious men, who had not scrupled to violate the truce. Yet Canusius writes, that when the senate were voting a public thanksgiving and processions on account of the victory, Cato proposed that Ca3sar should be delivered up to the barbarians, to expiate that breach of faith, and make the divine vengeance fall upon its author rather than upon Rome. Of the barbarians that had passed the Rhine, there were four hundred thousand killed. The few who escaped, re passed the river, and were sheltered by a people of Germany called Sicambri. Caesar laid hold on this pretense against that people, but his true motive was an avidity of fame, to be the first Roman that ever crossed the Rhine in a hostile manner. In pursuance of his design, he threw a bridge over it, though it was remarkably wide in that place, and at the same time so rough and rapid, that it carried down with it trunks of trees, and other timber, which much shocked and weakened the pillars of his bridge. But he drove great piles of wood into the bottom of the river above the bridge, both to resist the impression of such bodies, and to break the force of the torrent. By these means he exhibited a spectacle astonish- ing to thought, so immense a bridge finished in ten days. His army passed over it without oppo- sition, the Suevi and the Sicambri, the most war- like nations in Germany, having retired into the heart of their forests, and concealed themselves in * The people of the March and of Westphalia and those of Munster and Cleves. This war happened under the consulship of Crassus and Pompey, which was in the year of Rome 693. But there were several intermediate transactions, of great importance, which Plutarch has omitted, viz. : The reduction of the Aduatici by Casar; of seven other nations by P. Crassus, the son of the triumvir; offers of submission from several nations beyond the Rhine; the attempt upon Galba, in hii winter-quarters at Octodurus, and his brave defense and victory; the severe chastisement of the Veneti, who had revolted; and the complete reduction of Aquitaine. These particulars are contained in part of tiie second and the whole third book of the War in Gaul. AR. 469 Cavities overhung with wood. He laid waste the enemy's^ country with fire, and confirmed the bet- ter disposed Germans in the interest of Rome;* after which he returned into Gaul, having spent no more than eighteen days in Germany. But his expedition into Britain discovered the most daring spirit of enterprise. For he was the first who entered the western ocean with a fleet, and embarking his troops on the Atlantic, carried war into an island whose very existence was doubt- ed. Some writers had represented it so incredibly large, that others contested its being, and consider- ed both the name and the thing as a fiction. Yet Caesar attempted to conquer it, and to extend the Roman empire beyond the bounds of the habitable world. He sailed hither twice from the opposite coast in Gaul, and fought many battles, by which the Britons suffered more than the Romans gain- ed; for there was nothing worth taking from a people who were so poor, and lived in so much wretchedaess.f He did not, however, terminate the war in the manner he could have wished: he only received hostages of the kings, and appointed the tribute the island was to pay, and then return- ed to Gaul. There he received letters, which were going to be sent over to him, and by which his friends in Rome informed him, that his daughter, the wife of Pornpey, had lately died in childbed. This was a great affliction both to Pcmpey and Caesar. Their friends, too, were very sensibly concerned to see that alliance dissolved which kept up the peace and harmony of the state, otherwise in a eery unsettled condition. For the child survived the mother only a few days. Tiie people took the body of Julia and carried it, notwithstanding the prohibition of the tribunes, to the Campus Martius, where it was interred. As Cagsar's army was now very large,* he was forced to divide it for the convenience of winter- quarters; alter which he took tiie road to Italy, according to custom. But he had not been long gone, before the Gauls, rising again, traversed the country with considerable armies, fell upon the Roman quarters with great fury, and insulted their intrenchments. The most numerous and the strongest body of the insurgents was that under Ambiorix, who attacked Cotta and Titurius in their camp, and cut them off with their whole party. After which he went and besieged the legion under the command of Q. Cicero, with sixty thousand men; and though the spirit of those brave Romans made a resistance above their strength, they were very near being taken, for they were all wounded. Caesar, who was at a great distance, at last get- ting intelligence of their danger, returned with all expedition; and, having collected a body of men, which did not exceed seven thousand, hastened to the relief of Cicero. The Gauls, who were not ignorant of his motions, raised the siege and went to meet him; for they despised the small ness of his force, and were confident of victory. Ca?sar, to deceive them, made a feint as if he fled, until he came to a place convenient for a small army * The Ubii, the people of Cologne. t It does not appear that there was much corn in Britaiu in Csjsar's time; for the inhabitants, he says, lived chiefly on milk and flesh. Lucte, ct carn.e vivunt. t This army consisted of eight legions; and, as there was almost a famine in the country, the consequence of ex- cessive drought, Cipsnr was obliged to separate his troops for their better subsistence. He svas, therefore, under the necessity of fixing the quarters at such a distance, which would otherwise have been impolitic. He tells us (lib. v.), that all the legions, except one, which was in a quiet coun- ttj, were posted within the compass of a hundred miles. to engage a great one, and there he fortified his amp. He gave his men strict orders not to fight, but to throw up a strong rampart, and to barricade their gates in the securest manner; contriving by all these maneuvers to increase the enemy's con- tempt of him. It succeeded as he wished; the Gauls carne up with great insolence and disorder to attack his trenches. Then Caesar, making a sud- den sally, defeated and destroyed the greatest part of them. This success laid the spirit of revolt in those parts: and for farther security he remained all the winter in Gaul, visiting all the quarters, and keeping a sharp eye upon every motion to- ward war. Beside, he received a reinforcement of three legions in the room of those he had lost; two of which were lent him by Pornpey, and one lately raised in Cisalpine Gaul. After this,* the seeds of hostilities, which had long before been privately scattered in the more distant parts of the country, by the chiefs of the more warlike nations, shot up into one of the greatest and most dangerous wars that was ever seen in Gaul; whether we consider the number of troops and store of arms, the treasures amassed for the war, or the strength of the towns and fast- nesses they occupied. Beside, it was then the most severe season of the year; the rivers were covered with ice, the forests with snow, and the fields overflowed in such a manner that they looked like so many ponds, the roads lay con- cealed in snow; or in floods disembogued by the lakes and rivers. So that it seemed impossible for Caesar to march, or to pursue any other opera- tions against them. Many nations had entered into the league; the principal of which were the Arvernif and Car- mites.J The chief direction of the war was given to Vercingetorix, whose father the Gauls had put to death, for attempting at monarchy. Vercin- getorix, having divided his forces into several parts, and given them in charge to his lieutenants, had the country at command as far as the Arar. His intention was to raise all Gaul against Caesar, now when his enemies were rising against him at Rome. But had he stayed a little longer, until Caesar was actually engaged in the civil war, the terrors of the Gauls would not have been less dreadful to Italy now, than those of the Cimbri were formerly. Caesar, who knew perfectly how to avail him- self of every advantage in war, particularly of time, was no sooner informed of this great de- fection, than he set out to chastise its authors; and by the swiftness of his march, in spite of all the difficulties of a severe winter, he showed the barbarians that his troops could neither be con- quered nor resisted. For where a courier could scarce have been supposed to come in many days, Caesar was seen with his whole army, ravaging the country, destroying the castles, storming the cities, and receiving the submission of such is repented. Thus he went on, until the Edui also revolted, who had styled themselves brothers to the Romans, and had been treated with particular regard. Their joining the insurgents spread un- easiness and dismay throughout Caesar's army. * Plutarch passes over the whole sixth book of Caesar's Commentaries, as he had done the third. Many consider- able events happened between the victory last mentioned, and the affair with Vercingetorix; such as" the defeat of the Treviri, Caesar's second passage over the Rhine, and tho pursuit of Ambiorix. t The people of Auvergne, particularly those of Clermont and St. Fleur. t The people of Chartres and Orleans. The people of Autun, Lyons, Macon, Chalons upoB Soane and Nevers. 470 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. He therefore, decamped in all haste, and traversed the country of the Lingones,* in order to come into that of the Sequaui,t who were fast friends, and nearer to Italy than the rest of the Gauls. The enemy followed him thither in prodigious numbers, and surrounded him. Caesar, without being in the least disconcerted, sustained the con- flict, and after a long and bloody action, in which the Germans were particularly serviceable to him, gave them a total defeat. But he seems to have received some check at first, for the Arverni still show a sword suspended in one of their temples, which they declare was taken from Caesar. His friends pointed it out to him afterward^ but he only laughed; and when they were for having ii. taken down, he would not suffer it, because he considered it as a thing consecrated to the gods. Most of those who escaped out of the battle, retired into Alesia with their king. Coesar im- mediately invested the town, though it appeared impregnable, as well on account of the hight of the walls as the number of troops there was to defend it. During the siege he found himself exposed to a danger from without, which makes imagination giddy to think on. All the bravest rnen in Gaul assembled from every quarter, and came armed to the relief of the place, to the num- ber of three hundred thousand; and there were not less than seventy thousand combatants within the walls. Thus shut up between two armies, he was forced to draw two lines of circumvallation, the interior one against the town, and that without against the troops that came to its succor; for, could the two armies have joined, he had been absolutely lost. This dangerous action at Alesia contributed to Cesar's renown on many accounts. Indeed, he exerted a more adventurous courage and greater generalship than on any other occa- sion. But what seems very astonishing, is, that he could engage and conquer so many myriads without, and keep the action a secret to the troops in the town. It is still more wonderful that the Romans, who were left before the walls, should not know it, until the victory was announced by the cries of the men in Alesia and the lamenta- tions of the women, who saw the Romans on each side of the towu bringing to their camp a number of shields adorned with gold and silver, helmets stained with blood, drinking vessels, and tents of the Gaulish fashion. Thus did this vast multi- tude vanish and disappear like a phantom, or dream, the greatest part being killed on the spot. The besieged, after having given both them- selves and Caesar much trouble, at last surren- dered. Their general, Vercingetorix, armed him- self and equipped his horse in the most magnificent manner, and then sallied out at the gate. Alter he had taken some circuits about Caesar as he sat Upon the tribunal, he dismounted, put off his armor, and placed himself at Caesar's feet, where he remained in profound silence, until Caesar or- dered a guard to take him away, and keep him for his triumph. Caesar had been some time resolved to ruin Pornpey, and Pompey to destroy CaRsar. For Crassus, who alone could have taken up the con- queror, being killed in the Parthian war, there- remained nothing for Cresar to do, to make him- self the greatest of mankind, but to annihilate him that was so; nor for Pompey to prevent it, * The district of Langres. t The district of Besancon.' j Caesar calls it Alexia, now Alise, near Flavigny. Caesar says, that those in the town had a distinct view I'ttie battle. but to take off the man he feared. It is trua. i was no long time that Pompey had entertained any fear of him; he had rather looked upon hiifl with contempt, imagining he could as easily pull him down as he had set him up: whereas Caesar f from the first, designing to ruin his rivals, had retired at a distance, like a champion, for exer- cise. By long service, and great achievement! in the wars of Gaul, he had so improved his army and his own reputation too, that he was consid- ered as on a fooling with Pompey; and he found pretenses for carrying his enterprise into execu- tion, in the times of the misgovernment at Rome These were partly furnished by Pompey himself: and indeed all ranks of men were so corrupted that tables were publicly set out, upon which the candidates for offices were professedly ready to pay the people the price of their votes; and the people came not only to give their voices for the man who had bought them, but with all manner of offensive weapons to fight for him. Hence it often happened that they did not part without polluting the tribunal with blood and murder, and the city was a perpetual scene of anarchy. In this dismal situation of things, in these storms of epidemic madness, wise men thought it would be happy if they ended in nothing worse than monarchy. Nay, there were many who scrupled not to declare publicly> that monarchy was the only cure for the desperate disorders of the state, and that the physician ought to be pitched upon, who would apply that remedy with the gentlest hand: by which they hinted at Pompey. Pompey, in all his discourse, pretended to de- cline the honor of a dictatorship, though at the same time every step he took was directed that way. Cato, understanding his drift, persuaded the senate to declare him sole consul; that, satis- fied with a kind of monarchy more agreeable to law, he might not adopt any violent measures to make himself dictator. The senate not only agreed to this, but continued to him his govern- ments of Spain and Africa, the administration of which he comnwtted to his lieutenants; keeping armies there, for whose maintenance he was al- lowed a thousand talents a year out of the public treasury. Upon this, Csesar applied, by his friends, for another consulship, and for the continuance of his commission in Gaul, answerable to that of Pompey. As Pornpey was at first silent, Marcel- lus and Lentulus, who hated Caesar on other ac- counts, opposed it with great violence, emitting nothing, whether right or wrong, that might re- flect dishonor upon him. For they disfranchised the inhabitants of Novocomum in Gaul, which had lately been erected into a colony by Cresar; and Marcellus, then consul, caused one of their senators, who was come with some complaints to Rome, to be beaten with rods, and telling him, " The marks on his back were so many additional proofs that he was not a Roman citizen," bade him go show them to Caesar. But after the consulship of Marcellus, Caesar opened the treasures he had amassed in Gaul, to all that were concerned in the administration, and satisfied their utmost wishes; he paid off the vast debts of Curio the tribune; he presented the con- sul Paulus with fifteen hundred talents, which he employed in building the celebrated public hall near the forum, in the place where that of Ful- vius had stood. Pompey, now alarmed at the increase of Caesar's faction, openly exerted his own interest, and that of his friends, to procure an order for a successor to Coesar in Gaul. He 1 also sent to demand the troops he had but him, C.ES AR. 471 for his wars in that country, and Caesar returned them with a gratuity of two hundred and fifty drachmas to each man. Those who conducted these troops back, spread reports among the people which were neither fa- Vorable nor fair with respect to Caesar, and which mined Poinpey with vain hopes. They asserted that Pornpey had the hearts of all Caesar's army, and that if envy and a corrupt administration hindered him from gaining what he desired at Rome, the forces in Gaul were at his service, and would declare for him immediately upon their entering Italy; so obnoxious was Ccesar become, by hurrying' them perpetually from one expedition to another, and by the suspicions they had of his aiming at absolute power. Pompey was so much elated with these assu- rances that he neglected to levy troops, as if he- had nothing to fear, and opposed his enemy only with speeches and decrees, which Caesar made no account of. Nay, we are told, that a centurion whom Ca3sar had sent to Rome, waiting at the door of the senate-house for the result of the deliberations, and being informed that the senate would not give Caesar a longer term in his com- mission, laid his hand upon his sword, and said, "But this shall give it." Indeed, Caesar's requisitions had a great appear- ance of justice and honor. He proposed to lay down his arms, on condition Pompey would do the same, and that they should both, as private citizens, leave it to their country to reward their services: for to deprive him of his commission and troops, and continue Pompey's, was to give absolute power to the one, to which the other was unjustly accused of aspiring. Curio, who made these propositions to the people in behalf of Caesar, was received with the loudest plaudits: and there were some who even threw chaplets of flowers upon him, as they would upon a cham- pion victorious in the ring. Antony, one of the tribunes of the people, then produced a letter from Caesar to the same purport, and caused it to be read, notwithstanding the op- position it met with from the consuls. Hereupon, Scipio, Pompey's father-in-law, proposed in the senate, that if Caesar did not lay down his arms by such a day, he should be declared an enemy to the state; and the consuls putting it to the question, " Whether Pompey should dismiss his forces?" and again, "Whether Caesar should disband his?" few of the members were for the first, and almost all for the second.* After which Antony put the question, "Whether both should lay clown their commissions?" and all with one voice answered in the affirmative. But the vio- lent rage of Scipio, and the clamors of the consul Lentulus, who cried out, that "Not decrees but arms should be employed against a public rob- ber," made the senate break up; and on account of the unhappy dissensions, all ranks of people put on black, as in a time of public mourning. Soon after this, other letters arrived from Cos- ear with more moderate proposals. He offered to abandon all the rest, provided they would continue to him the government of Cisalpine Gaul and Illyricum, with two legions, until he could apply for a second consulship. And Cicero, who was lately returned from Cilicia, and very desirous of effecting e reconciliation, used all possible means to soften Pompey. Pompey agreed to all but the article of the two legions; and Cicero endeavored * Dio says, there was not a man for the first question, whereas, the whole house was for the second, except Cse- tius, and (Jurio. Nor is this to be wondered at; Pompey was then at the gates of Rome with his army. to accommodate the matter, by persuading Cae- sar's friends to be satisfied with the two provinces and six thousand soldiers only. Pornpey was on the point of accepting the compromise, when Lentnlus the consul, rejecting it with disdain, treated Antony and Curio with great indignity, and drove them out of the senate-house. Thus he furnished Caesar with the most plausible argu- ment imaginable, and he failed not to make use of it to exasperate his troops, by showing them persons of distinction, and magistrates, obliged to fly in hired carriages, and in the habit of staves,* for their fears had made them leave Rome in that disguise. Cajsar had not then with him above three hun- dred horse and five thousand foot. The rest of his forces were left on the other side of tlm Alps, and he had sent them orders to join him. But he saw the beginning of his enterprise, and the attack he meditated, did not require any great numbers: his enemies were rather to be struck with consternation by the boldness and expedition with which he began his operations; for an unex- pected movement would be more likely to make an impression upon them then, than great prepa- rations afterward. He therefore ordered his lieu- tenants and other officers to take their swords, without any other armor, and make themselves master of Ariminum, a great city in Gaul, but to take all possible care that no blood should be shed or disturbance raised. Hortensius was at the head of this party. As for himself, he spent the day at a public show of gladiators; and a little before evening bathed, and then went into the apartment, where he entertained company. When it was growing dark, he left the company, after having desired them to make merry until his re- turn, which they would not have long to wait for. To some of his friends he had given previous no- tice to follow him, not altogether, but by different ways. Then taking a hired carriage, he set out a different way from that which led to Ariminum, and turned into that road afterward. When he arrived at the banks of the Rubicon, which divides Cisalpine Gaul from the rest of Italy, his reflections became more interesting in proportion as the danger grew near. Staggered by the greatness of his attempt, he stopped to weigh within himself its inconveniences; and, as he stood revolving in silence the arguments on both sides, he many times changed his opinion. After which, he deliberated upon it with such of his friends as were by, among whom was Asinius Pollio; enumerating the calamities which the passage of that river would bring upon the world, and the reflections that might be made upon it by posterity. At last, upon some sudden impulse, bidding adieu to his reasonings, and plunging into the abyss of futurity, in the words of those who embark in doubtful and arduous enterprises, he cried out, "The die is cast!" and immediately passed the river. He traveled so fast the rest of the way, that he reached Ariminum before day- light, and took it. It is said, that the preceding night lie had a most abominable dream; he thought he lay with his mother. After the taking of Ariminum, as if war had opened wide its gates both by sea and land, and Caesar, by going beyond the bounds of his pro- vince, had infringed the laws of his country; not individuals were seen, as on other occasions, wan- dering in distraction about Italy, but whole cities broken up, and seeking refuge by flight. Most of the tumultuous tide flowed into Rome, and it wa* guise Cassias Longinus went with them in the same di*- 472 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. BO filled with the hasty conflux of the circling people, that amidst the violent agitation it would hardly either obey the magistrate, or listen to the voice of reason, but was in the utmost danger of falling by its own violence; for the whole was a prey to contrary passions and the most violent convulsions. Those who favored these disorders were not satisfied with enjoying them in private, but reproached the other party, amidst their fears and sorrows, and insulted them with menaces of what was to come; which is the necessary conse- quence of such troubles in a great city. Pompey himself, who was already confounded at the turn things had taken, was still more dis- turbed by a variety of censures on his conduct. Some said he justly suffered for exalting Caesar against himself and his country; others, for per- mitting Lentulus to overrule him, when Cae-sar departed from his first demands, and offered equi- table terms of peace. Favonius went so far as to bid him " Stamp with his foot;" alluding to a vaunting speech he had made in the senate, in which he bade them take no preparations for the war; for, as soon as he marched out of Rome, if he did but stamp with his foot, he should fill Italy with his legions. Pompey, however, at that time, was not inferior In numbers to Caesar, but his partisans would not suffer him to proceed according to his own opin- ion. By false reports and groundless terrors, as if the enemy was at the gates, and had carried all before him, they forced him along with the gene- ral torrent. He had it decreed, therefore, that things were in a tumultuous state, and nothing to be expected but hostilities; and then left Rome, having first ordered the senate, and every man to follow him, who preferred his country and liberty to the rod of a tyrant. The consuls too fled with him, without offering the sacrifices which custom required before they took their departure from Rome. Most of the senators snatched up those things in their houses that were next at hand, as if the whole was not their own, and joined in the flight. Nay, there were some who, before, were well affected to Caesar, that in the present terror changed sides, and suffered themselves without necessity to be carried away by the torrent. What a miserable spectacle was the city then! In so dreadful a tempest, like a ship abandoned by its pilots, tossed about at all adventures, and at the mercy of the winds and seas. But though flight was so unpromising an alternative, such was the love the Romans had for Pompey, that they con- sidered the place he retired to as their country, and Rome as the camp of Caesar. For even Labi- enus, one of Caesar's principal friends, who, in quality of his lieutenant, had served under him with the greatest alacrity in the wars of Gaul, now went over to Pompey. Nevertheless Cresar sent him his money and his equipage. After this, Cassar infested Corfinium, where Do- mitius, with thirty cohorts, commanded for Pom- pey. Domitius,* in despair, ordered a servant of his, who was his physician, to give him poison. He took the draught prepared lor him, as a sure means of death; but soon after hearing of Caesar's extraordinary clemency to his prisoners, he la- mented his own case, and the hasty resolution he had taken. Upon which the physician removed his fears, by assuring him that what he had drunk was a sleeping potion, not a deadly one. This * Lucius Domitius ^Enobarbus was nominated to succeed Czesnr, pursuant to the decree of the senate, in the govern- ment of Transalpine Gaul; but he imprudently shut himself Bj) in Otrfinium before he left Italy. gave him such spirits, that lie rose up and went to Caesar. But though Ca:sar pardoned hirn, and gave him his hand, he soon revolted, and repaired again to Pompey. The news of this transaction being brought to Rome, gave great relief to the mincis of the people, and many who had fled came back a^ain. In the meantime Caesar, having added to his own army the troops of Domitius. and all others that Pom- pey had left in garrison, was strong enough to march against Pompey himself. The latter, how- ever, did not wait for him; but retired to Brundu- sium, from whence he sent the consuls wil.li part of the forces to Dyrrhachium, and a little after, upon the approach of Coasar, sailed thither him- self, as we have related at large in his life. Caesar would have followed him immediately, but ho wanted ships. He therefore returned to Rome with the glory of having reduced Italy in sixty days, without spilling a drop of blood. Finding the city in a more settled condition than he expected, and many senators there, he ad- dressed them in a mild and gracious manner, and desired them to send deputies to Pompey, to offer honorable terms of peace. But not one of them would take upon him the commission: whether it was that they were afraid of Pompey, whom they had deserted, or whether they thought Caesar not in earnest in the proposal, and that he only made it to save appearances. As Metellus the tribune opposed his taking money out of the public trea- sury, and alleged some laws against it, Caesar said, "Arms and laws do not flourish together. If you are not pleased at what I am about, you have nothing to do but to withdraw: indeed, war will not bear much liberty of speech. When I say this, I am departing from my own right: for you and all, whom I have found exciting a spirit of faction against rnej are at my disposal." Saying this, he approached the doors of the treasury, and as the keys were not produced, he sent for work- meii to break them open. Metellus opposed him again, and some praised his firmness; but Caesar, raising his voice, threatened to put him to death, if he gave him any further trouble. "And, young man," said he, "you are not ignorant that this is harder for me to say than to do." Metellus, ter- rified at this menace, retired, and afterward Csesar was easily and readily supplied with everything necessary for the war. His first movement was to Spain, from whence he was resolved to drive Afrauius and Varro, Porn- pey's lieutenants, and after having made himself master of their troops and provinces, to march against Pompey, without leaving any enemy be- hind him. In the course of this expedition, his life was often in danger from ambuscades, and his army had to combat with famine; yet he continued his operations against the enemy, ehher by pur- suit, or offering them battle, or forming lines of circumvallation about them, until he forced their carnp, and added their troops to his own. The officers made their escape, and retired to Pompey. Upon his return to Rome, his falher-in-law Piso pressed him to send deputies to Pompey to treat of an accommodation; but Isauricus, to make his court to Caesar, opposed it. The senate de- clared him dictator, and while he held that office, he recalled the exiles; he restored to their honors the children of those who had suffered under Syllaj and relieved debtors by canceling part of the usury. These, and a few more, were his acts during his dictatorship, which he laid down in eleven days. After this, he caused himself to be declared consul with Seivilius Isauricus, and then went to prosecute the war. He inarched so fast to C JE S A R. 473 Brundusium, that all his troops could not keep up with him. However, he embarked with only six hundred select horse and five legions. It was at the time of the winter solstice, tiie beginning of January, which answers to the Athenian month, Poscideon, that he set sail. He crossed the Ionian, made himself master of Oricum and Apollonia, and scut back* his ships to Brundusium to bring over the forces that were left behind. But those troops, exhausted with fatigue, and tire.i out with the mui titude of enemies they had to engage with, broke out into complaints against Caesar, as they were upon their march to the port. ' Whither Will this man lead us," said they, " and where will be the end of our labors? Will he harass us forever, as if we had limbs of stone, or bodies of iron? But iron itself yields to repeated blows'; OUT very shields and cuirasses call out for rest. Will not Caesar learn from our wounds that we are mortal, that we have the same feelings, and are liable to the same impressions with other men? The gods themselves cannot force the seasons, or alear the winter seas of storms and tempests. And it is in this season that he would expose us, as if he was flying from his enemies, rather than pur- suing them." Amidst such discourse as this, they moved on slowly to Brundusium. But when they arrived there, and found that Ca3sar was gone, they changed their language, and reproached them- selves as traitors to their general. They vented their anger upon their officers, too, for not hasten- ing their march. And silting upon the cliffs, they kept their eyes upon the sea toward Epirus, to see if they could discover the transports that were to fetch them. Meantime Caesar, not having a sufficient force at Apollonia to make head against the enemy, and seeing the troops at Brundusium delayed to join him, to relieve himself from the anxiety and per- plexity he was in, undertook a most astonishing enterprise. Though the sea was covered with the enemy's fleets, he resolved to embark in a vessel of twelve oars, without acquainting any person with his intention, and sail to Brundusium. f In the night, therefore, he took the habit of a slave, and throwing himself into the vessel like a man of no account, sat there in silence. They fell down the river Anias for the sea, where the en- trance is generally easy, because the land-wind, rising in the morning, used to beat oft' the waves of the sea, and smooth the mouth of the river. But unluckily that night a strong sea-wind sprung up, which overpowered that from the land; so that by the rage of the sea and the counteraction of the stream, the river became extremely rough; the waves dashed against each other with a tumul- tuous noise, and formed such dangerous eddies, that the pilot despaired of making good his pas- sage, and ordered the mariners to turn back. Caesar, perceiving this, rose up, and showing him- self to tlit pilot, who was greatly astonished at the sight of him, said, " Go forward, my friend, and fear nothing; thou earnest Caesar and his ibr- i tune." The mariners then forgot the storm, and I plying their oars with the utmost vigor and alac- ; rity, endeavored to overcome the resistance of the waves. But such was their violence at the mouth of the river, and the water flowed so fast into the vessel, that Cajsar at last, though with great re- luctance, permitted the pilot to turn back. Upon his return to his camp, the soldiers met him in crowds, pouring out their complaints, and ex- pressing the greatest concern that he did not as- sure himself of conquering will) them only, but, in distrust of their support, gave himsell so much uneasiness and exposed his person to so much danger on account of the absent. Soon after, Antony arrived from Brundusium with the troops.* Caesar then, in the highest spirits, offered battle to Pompey, who was t-ncainped in an advantageous manner, and abundantly sup- plied with provisions both from sea and land ; whereas Caesar at first had no great plenty, and afterward was in extreme want. The soldiers, how- ever, found great relief from a rootf in the adjoining fields, which they prepared in milk. Sometimes they made it into bread, and going up to the ene- my's advanced guards, threw it among them, 'and declared, " That as long as the earth produced such roots, they would certainly besiege Pompey." Pompey would not suffer either such bread to be produced, or such speeches to be reported in his camp; for his men were already discouraged, and ready to shudder at the thought of the im- penetrable hardness of Cajsar's troops, who could bear as much HS so many wild beasts. There were frequent skirmishes about Pompey's iu- trenchmentSjj and Cassar had the advantage in them all, except one, in which his party was forced to fly with such precipitation that he was in danger of having his camp taken. Pompey headed the attack in person, and not a man could stand before him. He drove them upon their own lines in the utmost confusion, and filled their trenches with the dead. Caesar ran to meet them, and would have rallied the fugitives, but it was not in his power. He laid hold on the ensign staves to stop them, and some left them in his hands, and others threw them upon the ground, insomuch that no less than thirty-two standards, were taken. Cresar himself was very near losing his life; for having laid hold of a tall and strong man, to stop him and make him face about, the soldier in his terror and con- fusion lifted up his sword to strike him; but Caesar's armor-bearer prevented it by a blow which cut oft' his arm. Ca3sar saw his affairs that day in so bad a pos- ture, that after Pornpey, either through too much caution, or the caprice of fortune, instead of giving the finishing stroke to so great an action, stopped as soon as he had shut up the enemy within their intrenchments, and sounded a retreat, he said to * He sen* them back under the conduct of Caleniis. That ofiicer, losing the opportunity of the wind, fell in with Uibulus, who took thirty of his ships, and burned them all, together wiili their pilots and mariners, in order to in- timidate the rest. t Most historians blame this as a rash action; and Cfrsar himself, in his Commentaries, makes no mention of this, or of iinot.her less dangerous attempt, which is related by Suetonius. While lie was making war in Gaul, upon advice that the Gauls had surrounded his army in his ab- sence, he dressed himself like a native of the country, and in that disguise passed through the enemy's sentinels and troois to his own camp. * Antony and Calenus embarked on board the vessels which had escaped Bibulus, eight hundred horse and four legions, that is, three old ones, and one that had been newly raised: and when 'they were landed, Antony sent hack the ship* for the rest of the forces. t This root was called Claera. Some of Cicsar's soldiers who had .served in Sardinia, had there learned to make bread of it. J Ccesar observed an old camp, which he had occupied I in the place where 1'ompev was inclosed, and afterward j abandoned. Upon his quilting it, Pompey had taken pos- ; session of it, and left a legion to guard it. This post Casar | attempted to reduce, arid it was in thU attempt that he suf- ! fered so much loss. lie lost nine hundred and sixty foot, four hundred horse, among whom were several .Roman kniuhis, live tribunes, and thirty two centurions. We ! mentioned just now that Pompey was inclosed, as in fact : he was on the land side, by a line of circumv allation diawc | by Caesar. 474 PLUTARCH'S LIVES his friends as he withdrew, " This day victory would h^ e declared for the enemy, if they had had a general who knew how to conquer." He sought repose in his tent, but it proved the most melan- choly night of his life; for he gave himself up to endless reflections on his own misconduct in the war. He considered how wrong it was, when the wide countries and rich cities of Macedonia and Thessaly were before him, to confine himself to so narrow a scene of action, and sit still by the sea, while the enemy's fleets had the superiority, and in a place where he suffered tlie incon- venir>nces of a siege from want of provisions, rather than besiege the enemy by his arms. Thus agitated and Distressed by the perplexities and dif- ficulties of his situation, he resolved to decamp, and march against Scipio in Macedonia; conclud- ing, that he should either draw Pompey after him, and force him to fight where he could not receive supplies, as he had done, from the sea; or else that he should easily crush Scipio, if he found him unsupported. Pompey's troops and officers were greatly elated at this retreat of Caesar; they considered it as a flight and an acknowledgment that he was beaten, and therefore wanted to piu-Mie. But Pompey himself was unwilling to hazard a battle of such consequence. He was well provided with every- thing requisite for waiting the advantages of time and for that reason chose, by protracting the war, to wear out the little vigor the enemy had left The most valuable of Caesar's troops had, indeed an experience and courage which were irresistible in the field; but age had made them unfit for long marches, for throwing up intrenchments, for at- tacking walls, and passing whole nights undei arms. They were too unwieldy to endure mucl fatigue, and their inclination lor labor lessened with their strength. Beside there was said to be a contagious distemper among them, which arose from their strange and bad diet: and what was still more important circumstance, Caesar wante both money and provisions, so that it seemed as if he must shortly fall of himself. These were Pompey's reasons for declining a battle; but not a man, except Cato, was of hi opinion; and he, only, because he was willing t( spare the blood of his countrymen; for when hi saw the bodies of the enemy, who fell in the lati action, to the number of a thousand, lie dead upoi the field, he covered his face, and retired, weeping All the rest censured Pompey for not deciding th affair immediately with the sword, calling bin Agamemnon, and King of kings, as if he was un willing to be deprived of the monarchy he was ii possession of, and delighted to see so many gene rals waiting his orders, and attending to pay thei court. Favonius, who affected to imitate Cato' bold manner of speaking, but carried it much too far, lamented that Pornpey's wanting to keep the kingly state he had got would prevent their eating figs that year at Tuseulurn. And Afranius, lately come from Spain, where he had succeeded so ill in his command, that he was accused of having been bribed to betray his army, asked Pompey, " Why he (iid not fight that merchant who traf- ficked in provinces?" Piqued at these reproaches, Pompey, against his own judgment, marched after Caesar, who pro- ceeded on his route with great difficulty; for, on account of his late loss, all looked upon" him with contempt, and refused to supply him with provi- sions. However, upon his taking Gomphi,* a own in Thessaly, his ,roops not only found suf- cient refreshment, but recovered surprisingly of le distemper; for, drinking plentifully of the due they found there, and afterward marching n in a Bacchanalian manner, the new turn their lood took threw off the disorder, and gave them nother habit of body. When the two armies were encamped opposite ach other on the plains of Pharsalia, Pompey re- urned to his old opinion; in which he was con- irmed by some unlucky omens, and an alarming Iream. He dreamed that the people of Rome re- :eived him in the theater with loud plaudits, and hat he adorned the chapel of Venus Nicepfiora, rom whom Csesar derived his pedigree. But if ^ompey was alarmed, those about him were so ibsurdly sanguine in their expectations of victory, hat Domitius, Spinther, and Scipio, quarreled tbout Caesar's pontificate; and numbers sent to Rome, to engage houses convenient for consuls and praetors, making themselves sure of being soon raised to those high offices after the war. But the cavalry testified the greatest impatience or a battle; so proud were they of their fine arms, of the condition of their horses, and the beauty and vigor of their persons: beside, they were much more numerous than Csesar's, being seven thousand to one thousand. Nor were the numbers of infantry equal; for Pompey had forty- five thousand, and Caesar only twenty-two thou- sand. Caesar called his soldiers together, and told them, " That Cornificius was well advanced on his way with two more legions, and that he had fifteen cohorts under the command of Calenus, in the environs of Megara and Athens." He theii asked them, " Whether they chose to wait for those troops, or to risk a battle without them?" They answered aloud, " Let us not wait; but do you find out some stratagem to bring the enemy, as soon as possible, to an action." He began with offering sacrifices of purification for his army, and upon opening the first victim, the soothsayer cried out, " You will fight within three days." Caesar then asked him, if there ap- peared in the entrails any auspicious presage? He answered, " It is you who can best resolve that question. The gods announce a great change and revolution in affairs. If you are happy at present, the alteration will be for the worse; if otherwise, expect better fortune." The night be- fore the battle, as he walked the rounds about mid- night, there appeared a luminous phenomenon in the air, like a torch, which, as it passed over his camp, flamed out with great brightness, and seem- ed to fall in that of Pompey. And, in the morn- ing, when the guards were relieved, a tumult was observed in the enemy's camp, not unlike a panic terror. Caesar, however, so little expected an action that day, that he had ordered his troops to decamp, and inarch to Scotusa.*. But as th(-y we re striking their tents, his scouts rode up, and told him, the enemy were coming down to give him battle. Happy in the news, he made his prayers to the gods, and then drew up his army, which he divided into three bodies. Domitius Calviims was to command the center, Antony the left wing, and himself the right, where he intended to charge at the head of the * Ca>,sar perceiving of how much importance it was to his arviceto make himself master of the place, before Pompey or Scipio could come up, gave a general assault, about three tenth legion. Struck with the number and mag- nificent appearance of the enemy's cavalry, who in the afternoon; and, though the walls were very high carried it before sunset. * Caesar hoped, by his frequent decampings, to provide better for his troops, and, perhaps, gain a favorable oppoi luuity of fighting. C JE S A R. 475 were posted over against him, he ordered six co- horts privately to advance from the rear. These he placed behind the right wing, and gave them instructions what to do when the enemy's horse came to charge.* Pompey's disposition was tins: He commanded the right wing himself, Domitius the left, and his father-in-law, Scipio, the main body. The whole weight of the cavalry was in the left wing; for they designed to surround the right of the enemy, and to make a successful effort where Caesar fought in person; thinking that no bod}' of foot could be deep enough to bear such a shock, but they must necessarily be broken in pieces upon the first impression. When the signal was ready to be given, Pom- pey ordered his infantry to stand in close order, and wait the enemy's attack, until they were near enough to be reached by the javelin. Caesar blamed this conduct. He said Pompey was not aware what weight the swift and fierce advance to the first charge gives to every blow, nor how the courage of each soldier is inflamed by the rapid motion of the whole.f He was now going to put his troops in motion, when he saw a trusty and experienced centurion encouraging his men to distinguish themselves that day. Caesar called him by his name, and said, "What cheer, Caius Crassinus?i How, think you, do we stand?" "Caesar," said the veteran, in a bold accent, and stretching out his hand, " the victory is ours. It will be a glorious one; and this day I shall have your praise either alive or dead." So saying, he ran in upon the enemy, at the head of his company, which con- sisted of a hundred and twenty men. He did great execution among the first ranks, and was pressing on with equal fierceness, when one of his anta- gonists pushed his sword with such force in his mouth, that the point came out at the nape of his neck. While the infantry were thus warmly engaged in the center, the cavalry advunced from Pom- pey's left wing with great confidence, and ex- tended their squadron;-, to surround Caesar's right wing. But before they could begin the attack, the six cohorts which Ca3sar had placed behind came up boldly to receive them. They did not, according to custom, attempt to annoy the enemy with their javelins at a distance, nor strike at the legs and thighs when they came nearer, but aimed at the eyes, and wounded them in the face, agree- ably to the orders they had received. For Caesar hoped that these young cavaliers who had not been used to wars and wounds, and who set a great value upon their beauty, would avoid, above, all things, a stroke in that part, and immediately give way, as well on account of the present dan- ger as the future deformity. The event answered his expectation. They could not bear the spears pointed against their faces, or the steel gleaming upon their eyes, but turned away their faces, and covered them with their hands. This caused such confusion, that at last they fled in the most in * Caesar and Appian agree, that Pompey posted himself in liis left wing, not in the right, it is also highly probable that Afranins, not, Lucius Domitius ^Enobarbus, commanded Pompey's right wi nx. Caesar does not, indeed, expressly say who commanded there, but he says, "On the right was po>ted the legion of Ciliciti; with the cohorts brought by Afranius out of ^puin, which Pompey esteemed the flower of his army." !?ee the notes on the life of Pompey. t Csesar was so < onrident of success, that he ordered his intrenchnients to be filled up, assuring his troops they would be master of the enemy's camp betbre night t Plutarch, in the Life of Pompey, calls him Crassianus Cesar calls him Crastliius, . 5 Cffisar says, they did engage their right wing, and obliged his cava ry to give ground. Bell. Civil, lib. iii. famous manner, and ruined the whole cause. For the cohorts which had been beaten off surrounded their infantry, and charging them in the rear, as well as in front, soon cut them to pieces. Pompey, when from the other wing he .saw his cavalry put to the rout, was no longer himself, nor did he remember that he was Pompey the Greiit; but like a man deprived of his senses by some superior power, or struck with consternation at his defeat as the consequence of the divine decree, he retired to his camp without speaking a word, and sat down in his tent to wait the issue At last, after his whole army was broken and dis- persed, and the enemy had got upon his ramparts, and were engaged with the troops appointed to defend them, he seemed to come to himself, and cried out, "What! into my camp too?" Without uttering one word more, he laid aside the ensigns of his dignity as general, and taking a habit that might favor his flight, lie made his escape pri- vately. What misfortunes befell him afterward, how he put himself in the hands of the Egyptians, and was assassinated by the traitors, we have re- lated at large in his life. When Csesar entered the camp, and saw what numbers of the enemy lay dead, and those they were then dispatching, he said with a sigh, " This they would have; to this cruel necessity they re- duced me: for had Caesar dismissed his troops, after so many great and successful wars, he would have been condemned as a criminal." Asinius Pollio tells us, Caesar spoke those words in Latin, and that he afterward expressed the sense of them in Greek. He adds, that most of those who were killed at the taking of the camp were slaves, and that there fell not in the battle above six thousand soldiers.* Caesar incorporated with his own legions most of the infantry that were taken pri- soners, and pardoned many persons of distinction. Brutus, who afterward killed him, was of the number. It is said, that when he did not make his appearance after the battle, Caesar was very uneasy, and that upon his presenting himself, un- hurt, he expressed great joy. Among the many signs that announced this victory, that at Tralles was the most remarkable. There was a statue of Csesar in the temple of Victory, and though the ground about it was na- turally hard, and paved with hard stone beside, it is said that a palm tree sprang up at the pedestal of the statue. At Padua, Caius Cornelius, a countryman and acquaintance of Livy, and a celebrated diviner, was observing the flight of birds the day the battle of Pharsalia was fought. By this observation, according to Livy's account, he first discerned the time of action, and said to those that were by, " The great affair now draws to a decision; the two generals are engaged." Then he made another observation, and the signs appeared so clear to him, that he leaped up in the most enthusiastic manner, and cried out, "Caesar, thou art the conqueror." As the company stood in great astonishment, he took the sacred fillet from his head, and swore, "He would never put it on again until the event had put his art beyond question." Livy affirms this for a truth. Caesar granted the whole nation of Thessaly their liberty, for the sake of the victory he had gained there, and then went in pursuit of Pornpej He bestowed the same privilege on the Cuidians, in compliment to Theopompus, to whom we are indebted for a collection of fables, and he dis- * Caesar says, there fell about fifteen thousand of th enemy, and that he took above twenty-four thousand prison- ers, and that on his side, the loss amounted only to about two hundred private loldiers, aud thirty centurion*. 4T6 PLUTARCH'S LIVES charged the inhabitants of Asia from a third part oi their imposts. The first difficulty he met with* was the want of water, the Egyptians having stopped up the aque- Upon his arrival at Alexandria, he found Pom- 'ducts that supplied his quarter.t The second pey assassinated, and when Theodotus presented | was the loss of his ships in harbor, which lie was the head to him, he turned from the sight with forced to burn himself, to prevent their falling great abhorrence. The signet of that general was !into the enemy's hands; when the flames unfor- the only thing he took, and on taking it he wept, jtunately spreading from the dock to the palace, As often as any of Pompey's frienus and compa- j burned the great Alexandrian library. The thirdj nioiis were taken by Ptolemy, wandering about the country, and brougtit to Caesar, he loaded them \vitii favors and took them into his own service. He wrote to his friends at Rome, "That the chief enjoyment he had of his victory was, in saving every clay one or other of tii.s fellow-citizens who had borne arms against him." As for his Egyptian war, some assert, that it was undertaken without necessity, and that his passion for Cleopatra engaged him in a quarrel which proved both preju.iicial to his reputation and dangerous to hjs person. Others accuse the king's ministers, particularly the eunuch Photi- nus, who had the greatest influence at court, and who, having taken ofFPompey and removed Cleo- patra, privately meditated an attempt against Ca3sar. Hence it is said, that Caesar began to pass the night in entertainments among his friends, for the greater security of his person. The behavior, indeed, of this eunuch in public, all he said and did with respect to Caesar, was intolerably insolent and invidious. The corn he supplied iiis soldiers with was old and musty, and he told them, " They ought to be satisfied with it, since they lived at otner people's cost." He caused only wooden and earthen vessels to be served up at the king's table, on pretense that Caesar had taken all the gold and silver ones for debt. For the father of the reigning prince owed Caesar seventeen million five hunured thousand drachmas. Caesar had formerly remitted to his children the rest, but thought fit to demand the ten millions at this time, for the maintenance of his army. Photinus, instead of paying the money, advised him to go and finish the great affairs he had upon his hands, alter whicli he should have his money with thanks. But Caesar told him, " He had no need of Egyptian counselors," and privately sent for Cleopatra out of the coun- try. This princess, taking only one friend, Apollo- dorus, the Sicilian, with her, got into a small boat, and hi the dusk of the evening made for the palace. As she saw it difficult to enter it undis- covered, she rolled herself up in a carpet; Apollo- dorus tied her up at full length, like a bale of goods, and carried her in at the gates to Caesar. This stratagem of hers, which was a strong proof of her wit and ingenuity, is said to have first opened her the way to Caesar's heart; and the conquest advanced so fast, by the charms of her conversation, that he took upon him to reconcile her brother to her, and insisted that she should reign with him. An entertainment was given on account of this was in the sea-fight near the isle of Pharos, when, seeing his men hard pressed, he leaped from the nole into a little skirt", to go to their assistance. Tiie Egyptians making up on all sides, he threw :iirnse!f "into the sea, and with much difficulty reached his galleys by swimming. Having several valuable papers, which he was not willing ilher to lose or to wet, it is said he held them above water with one hand, and swam with the other. The skiff" sunk soon after he left it. At ast the king joining the insurgents, Caesar attack and defeated Great numbers of the Egyptians were slain, and the king was heard of no more. This gave Csewtr opportunity to estab- lish Cleopatra queen of Egypt. Soon after she had a son by him, whom the Alexandrians called Cjesario. He then departed for Syria, and from thence marched into Asia Minor, where he had intelligence that Domilius, whom he had left governor, was de- feated by Pharnaces, son of Mithridates, and forced to fly out of Pontus with the few troops that he had left; and that Pharnaces, pursuing his advan- tage with great ardor, had made himself master of Bithynia and Cappadocia, and was attempting Armenia the Less, having stirred up all the kings and tetrarchs of Asia against the Romans. Csesar immediately marched against him with three legions, and defeated him in a great battle near Zela, which deprived him of the kingdom of Pon- tus, as well as ruined his whole army. In the account he gave Arnintius, one of his friends in Home, of the rapidity and dispatch with which he gained his victory, he made use only of three words, " I came, I saw, I conquered." Their having all the same form and termination in the Roman language adds grace to their conciseness. After this extraordinary success he returned to Italy, and arrived at Rome, as the year of his second dictatorship, an office that had never been annual before, was on the point of expiring. He was declared consul for the year ensuing. But it was a blot in his character that he did not punish his troops, who, in a tumult, had killed Cosconius and Galba, men of Pra3torian dignity, in any severer manner than by calling them citizens, || instead of fellow-soldiers. Nay, he gave each of them a thousand drachmas notwithstanding, and assigned them large portions of land in Italy. Other complaints against him arose from the in great danger Detore, when attacked in the palace by Achillas, who had made himself master of Alex- andria. Caes. Bell. Lib. iii., sub finem. t They also contrived to raise the sea-water, by engines, and pour it into Caesar's- reservoirs and cisterns; but Ctesar ... . . . , i entered wens to ue an. reconciliation, and all met to rejoice on the occa- j cient quant it v of fresh sion; when a servant of Caesar's, who was his j % First, there was barber, a timorous and suspicious man, led by his ! which, Cssar attacked the island, and, last into everything, and to \ {^ *^^^> he was **" U ' e natural caution to inquire I ordered wells to be dug, and, in a night's time got sh water. Vide Ca;s. Bell. Alex. a general naval engagement; after ' id, and, last of all, the mole, sulty men- tioned by Plutarch. ll.sten everywhere about the palace, found that I His first intention was to gain the admiral galley; but, Achillas the general, and PhotillUS the eunuch, ' finding it very hard pressed, he made for the others. And Were plotting against Cesar's life. Caesar, being I il was fortunate for him that he did; for his own galley sooo informed of their design, planted his guards about I "^i/J^ 'SuTjneUrtio* they were cashiered. It wa. tiie hall and killed Photinus. But Achillas escaped to the army, and involved Caesar in a very difficult and dangerous war; for, with a few troops, he had to make head against a great city and a powerful army. ut by this appellation they were cashiered. It th leion,which had mutinied at Capua, and after the tenth leion,which had mutinied at Capua, and afterward marched with great insolence to Rome. Cecsar readily gave them the discharge they demanded, which so humbled them, that they begged to be taken again into his service; and he did not admit of it without much seeming relue tanoe, uor until after much entreaty. C.ES AR. 477 madness of Dolabella, the avarice of Amintius, the drunkenness of Antony, and the insolence of Cornificius,* who, having got possession of Poin- pey's house, pulled it down, and rebuilt it, be- cause he thought it not large enough for him. These things were very disagreeable to the Ro- mans. Caesar knew it, and disapproved such behavior, but was obliged, through political views, to make use of such ministers. Cato and Scipio, after the battle of Pharsalia, had escaped into Africa, where they raised a re- spectable army with the assistance of King Juba. Cassar now resolved to carry war into their quar- ters, and in order to it, first crossed over to Sicily, though it was about the time of the winter sol- stice. To prevent his officers from entertaining any hopes of having the expedition delayed, he pitched his own tent almost within the wash of the sea; and a favorable wind springing up he re- embarked with three thousand foot and a small body of horse.f After he had landed them safely and privately on the African coast, he set sail again in quest of the remaining part of his troops, whose numbers were more considerable, and for whom he was under great concern. He found them, however, on their way at sea, and conducted them all to his African camp. He was there informed, that the enemy had great dependence on an ancient oracle, the pur- port of which was, " That the race of Scipio would be always victorious in Africa." And, as he happened to have in his army one of the family of Africanus, named Scipio Sallution, though in other respects a contemptible fellow, either in ridicule of Scipio, the enemy's general, or to turn the oracle on his side, in all engagements he gave this Sallution the command, as if he had been really general. There were frequent occasions of ihis kind; for he was often forced to fight for provisions, having neither a sufficiency of bread for his men, nor forage for his horses. He was obliged to give his horses the very sea-weed, only washing out the salt, and mixing a little grass with it to make it go down. The thing that laid him under a necessity of having recourse to this expedient was the number of Numidian cavalry, who were extremely well mounted, and by swift and sudden impressions commanded the whole coast. One day when Caesar's cavalry had nothing else to do, they diverted themselves with an African, who danced and played upon the flute with great perfection. They had left their horses to the care of boys, and sat attending to the entertainment with great delight, when the enemy, coming upon them at once, killed part, and entered the camp with others, who fled with great precipitation. Had not Caesar himself, and Asinius Pollio come to their assistance, and stopped their flight, the war would have been at an end that hour. In another engagement, the enemy had the advan- tage again; on which occasion it was that Csesar took an ensign, who was running away, by the neck, and making him face about, said, " Look oil this side for the enemy." Scipio, flushed with these successful preludes, Was desirous to come to a decisive action. There It was Antony, not Cornificius, who got the forfeiture of Pompey's house, as appears from the life of Antony, and Cicero's second Philippic. Therefore, there is, probably, a transposition in this place, owing to the carelessness of tome transcriber. t He embarked six legions and two thousand horse; bnt the number mentioned by Plutarch was all that he landed with at first, many of the ships having been separated by a torn. fore, leaving Afranius and Juba in their respective camps, which were at no great distance, he went in person to the carnp above the lake, in the neighborhood ol Thapsus, to raise a fortification for a place of arms and an occasional retreat. While Scipio was constructing his walls and ramp- arts, Caesar with incredible dispatch, made his way through a country almost inpracticable, by reason of its woods and difficult passes, and coming suddenly upon him, attacked one part of his army in the rear, another in the front, and put the whole to flight. Then making the best use of his opportunity, and of the favor of fortune, with one tide of success he took the camp of Afranius, and destroyed that of the Numidians; Juba, th^ir king, being glad to save himself by flight. Thus, in a small part of one day, he made himseli mas- ter of three camps, and killed fifty thousand of the enemy, with the loss only of fifty men. Such is the account some give us of the action; others say, that as Caesar was drawing up his army and giving his orders, he had an attack of his old distemper; and that upon its approach, before it had overpowered and deprived him of his senses, as he felt the first agitations, he directed his people to carry him to a neighboring tower, where he lay in quiet until the fit was over. Many persons of consular and praetorian dig- nity escaped out of the battle. Some of them, being afterward taken, dispatched themselves, and a number were put to death by Caesar. Hav- ing a strong desire to take Cato alive, the con- queror hastened to Utica,* which Cato had the charge of, and for that reason was not in the bat- tle. But by the way, he was informed that he had killed himself, and his uneasiness at the news was very visible. As his officers were wondering what might be the cause of that uneasiness, he cried out, "Cato, I envy thee thy death, since thou enviedest me the glory of giving thee thy life." Nevertheless, by the book which he wrote against Cato after his death, it does not seem as if he had any intentions of favor to him before. For how can it be thought he would have spared the living enemy, when he poured so much venom after- ward upon his grave? Yet, from his clemency to Cicero, to Brutus, and others without number, who had borne arms against him, it is conjectured, that the book was not written with a spirit of rancor, but of political ambition; for it was composed on such an occasion. Cicero had written an enco- mium upon Cato, and he gave the name of Cato to the book. It was highly esteemed by many of the Romans, as might be expected, as well from the superior eloquence of the author, as the dig- nity of the subject. Caesar was piqued at the success of a work, which in praising a man who had killed himself to avoid falling into his hands, he thought insinuated something to the disadvan- tage of his character. He therefore wrote an an- swer to it, which he called Anticato, and which contained a variety of charges against that great man. Both books have still their friends, as a regard to the memory of Caesar, or of Cato pre- dominates. Caesar, after his return from Africa to Rome, spoke in high terms of his victory to the people. He told them, he had subdued a country so exten- sive, that it would bring yearly into the public * Before Ceesar left Utica, he gave orders for the re- building of Carthage, as he did, soon after his return to Italy, for the rebuilding of Corinth; so that these two cities were destroyed in the same year, and in the same year raised out of their ruins, in which they had lain about a hundred years. Two years after, they were both re-peo pled with Roman colonie* 4T8 PLUTARCH'S LIVES stores two hundred thousand Attic* measures of wheat, and three millions of pounds of oil. After this, he led up his several triumphs over Egypt, Potitus and Africa. In the title of the latter, mention was not made of Scipio, but of Juba only. Juba, the son of that prince, then very young, walked in the procession. It proved a happy captivity for him; for of a barbarous and unlet- tered Numidian, he became a historian worthy to be numbered among 1 the most learned of Greece. The triumph was followed by large donations to the soldiers, and feasts and public diversions for the people. He entertained them at twenty-two thousand tables, and presented them with a nu- merous show of gladiators and naval fights, in honor of his daughter Julia, who had been long dead. When these exhibitions were over,* an account was taken of the citizens, who, from three hun- dred and twenty thousand, were reduced to a hun- dred and fifty thousand. So fatal a calamity was the civil war, and such a number of the people did it take off, to say nothing of the misfortunes it brought upon the rest of Italy, and all the pro- vinces of the empire. This business done, he was elected consul a fourth time; and the first thing he undertook was to march into Spain against the sons of Pompey, who, though young, had assembled a numerous army, and showed a courage worthy the com- mand they had undertaken. The great battle which put a period to that war was fought under the walls of Munda. Caesar at first saw his men so hard pressed, and making so feeble a resistance, that he ran through the ranks, amidst the swords and spears, crying, " Are you not ashamed to de- liver your general into the hands of boys?" The great and vigorous efforts this reproach produced at last made the enemy turn their backs, and there were more than thirty thousand of them slain, whereas Caesar lost only a thousand, but those were some of the best men he had. As he retired after the battle, he told his friends, " He had often fought for victory, bat that was the first time he had fought for his life." He won this battle on the day of the Liberalia, which was the same day that Pornpey the Great marched out, four years before. The younger of Pompey 's sons made his escape; the other was taken by Didius, a few days after, who brought his head to Caesar. This was the last of his wars; and his triumph on account of it gave the Romans more pain than any other step he had taken. He did not now mount the car for having conquered foreign generals or barbarian kings, but for ruining the children, and destroying the race of one of the greatest men * Mediiani. See the table of weights and measures. t Ruauld takes notice of three great mistakes in this passage. The first is, where it is said that Ca;sar took a census of the people. Suetonius does not mention it, and Augustus himself, in the Marmora Ancyrana, says, that in his sixth consulate, that is, in the year of Rome 725, he numbered the people, which had not been done for forty- two years before. The second is, that, before the civil war broke out between Oa'sar and Pompey, the number of the people in Rome amounted to no more than three hundred and twenty thousand; for long before it was much greater, and had continued upon the increase. The last is, where it is asserted that, in less than three years, those three hun- dred and twenty thousand were reduced, by th;U war, to a hundred and fifty thousand; the falsity of which assertion is evident from this, ihaf a little while after, Ca-sar made a draught of eighty thousand, to be sent to foreign colonies. But what is still stranger, eighteen years after, Augustus took an account of the people, and found the number amount to four millions and sixty-three thousand, as Sue- tonius assures us. From a passage in the same author (Life of Ctesar, chap. iv.)> these mistakes of Plutarch took their rise. Rome had ever produced, though he proved at last unfortunate. All the world condemned his triumph- ng in the calamities of his country, and rejoicing n things which nothing could excuse, either be- bre the gods or men, but extreme necessity. And t was the more obvious to condemn it, because, jefore this, he had never sent any messenger or etter to acquaint the public with any victory he lad gained in the civil wars; but was rather ishamed of such advantages. The Romans, how- ever, bowing to his power, and submitting to the bri- dle, because they saw no other respite from intes- tine wars and miseries, but the taking one man for heir master, created him dictator for life. This was a complete tyranny, for to absolute power they added perpetuity. Cicero was the first who proposed that the senate should confer great honors upon Caesar, but hon- ors within the measure of humanity. Those who followed contended with each other, which should make -him the most extraordinary compliments, and by the absurdity and extravagance of their de- crees, rendered him odious and insupportable even to persons of candor. His enemies are sup- posed to vie with his flatterers in these sacrifices, that they might have the better pretense, and the more cause, to lift up their hands against him. This is probable enough, because in other respects, ifter the civil wars were brought to an end, his conduct was irreproachable. It seems as if tihere was nothing unreasonable in their ordering a tem- ple to be built to CLEMENCY, in gratitude for the mercy they had experienced in Caesar. For he not only pardoned most of those who had appear- ed against him in the field, but on some of them he bestowed honors and preferments; on Brutus and Cassius for instance; for they were both pros- tors. The statues of Pompey had been thrown down, but he did not suffer them to lie in that posture, he erected them again. On which occa- sion Cicero said, "That Caesar, by rearing Pom- pey's statues, had established his own." His friends pressed him to have a guard, and many offered to serve in that capacity, but he would not suffer it. For, he said, " It was better to die once than to live always in fear of death." He esteemed the affection of the people the most honorable and the safest guard, and therefore en- deavored to gain them by feasts, and distributions of corn, as he did the soldiers, by placing them in agreeable colonies. The most noted places that he colonized were Carthage and Corinth; of which it is remarkable, that as they were both taken and demolished at the same time, so they were at the same time restored. The nobility he gained by promising them con- sulates and prtetorships, or, if they were engaged, by giving them other places of honor and profit. To all he opened the prospects of hope; for he was desirous to reign over a willing people. For this reason he was so studious to oblige, that when Fabius Mnximus died suddenly, toward the close of his consulship, he appointed Caninus Rebilius* i consul for the day that remained. Numbers went to pay their respects to him, according to custom, and to conduct him to the senate-house; on which occasion Cicero said, i( Let us make haste and pay our compliments to the consul, before his office is expired." Csasar had such talents for great attempts, and so vast an ambition, that the many actions he had performed by no means induced him to sit down and enjoy the glory he had acquired? they rather I whetted his appetite for other conquests, produced * Macrobius calls him Rebilus. C.ES AR. 479 new designs equally great, together with equal confidence of success, and inspired him with a passion for fresh renown, as if he had exhausted all the pleasures of the old. This passion was nothing but a jealousy of himself, a contest with himself (as eager as if it had been with another man) to make his future achievements outshine the past. In this spirit he had formed a design and was making preparations for war against the Parthians. After he had subdued them, he in- tended to traverse Hyrcania, and marching along oy the Caspian Sea and Mount Caucasus, to en- ter Scythia; to carry his conquering arms through the countries adjoining to Germany, and through Germany itself; and then to return by Gaul to Rome; thus finishing the circle of the Roman em- pire, as well as extending its bounds to the ocean on every side. During the preparations for this expedition, he attempted to dig through the Isthmus of Corinth, and committed the care of that work to Anienus. He designed also to convey the Tiber by a deep channel directly from Rome to Circise, and so into the sea near Tarracina, for the convenience as well as security of merchants who traded to Rome. Another public spirited work that he medi- tated, was to drain all the marshes by Momentum and Setia, by which ground enough would be gained from the water to employ many thousands of hands in tillage. He proposed further to raise banks on the shore nearest Rome, to prevent the sea from breaking in upon the land; to clear the Ostian shore of its secret and dangerous obstruc- tions, and to build harbors fit to receive the many vessels that came in there. These things were designed, but did not take effect. He completed, however, the regulation of the calendar, and corrected the erroneous computation of time, agreeably to a plan which he had inge- niously contrived, and which proved of the great- est utility. For it was not only in ancient times that the Roman months so ill agreed with the revolution of the year, that the festivals and days of sacrifice, by little and little, fell back into sea- sons quite opposite to those of their institution; but even in the time of Caesar, when the solar year was made use of, the generality lived in per- fect ignorance of the matter; and the priests, who were the only persons that knew anything about it, used to add, all at once, and when nobody ex- pected it, an intercalary month, called Mcrddo- nius, of which Numa was the inventor. That remedy, however, proved much too weak, and was far from operating extensively enough, to correct the great miscomputations of time; as we have observed in that, prince's life. Caesar, having proposed the question to the most able philosophers and mathematicians, pub- lished, upon principles already verified, a new and more exact regulation, which the Romans still go by, and by that means are nearer the truth than other nations with respect to the difference be- tween the sun's revolution and that of the twelve months. Yet this useful ivvmtion furnished matter of ridicule to the pnvious, and to those who could but ill brook nis power. For Cicero, (if I mistake not), when some one happened to aay, " Lyra will rise to-morrow," ansWered, " Un- doubtedly; there is an edict for it: " as if the calen- dar was forced upon them, as well as other things. But the principal tiling that excited the public hatred, and at lust caused his death, was his pas- sion for the title of king. It was the first thing that gave offense to the multitude, and it afford- rd his inveterate enemies a very plausible plea. Those who wanted to procure hirn that honor, | gave it out among the people, that it appeared ifrorn the Sibylline books, "The Romans could I never conquer the Parthians, except they went to j war under the conduct of a king." And one j day, when Caesar returned from Alba to Rome, [some of his retainers ventured to salute- him by that title. Observing that the people were trou- bled at this strange compliment, he put on an air of resentment and said, "He was not called king, j but Caesar." Upon this a deep silence ensued, and he passed on in no good humor. Another time, the senate having decreed him some extravagant honors, the consuls and praetors, attended by the whole body of patricians, went to inform him of what they had done. When they came, he did not rise to receive them, but kept his sent, as if they had been persons in a private station, and his answer to their address, was, " That there was more need to retrench his ho- nors than to enlarge them." This haughtiness gave pain not only to the senate, biit the people, who thought the contempt of that body reflected dishonor upon the whole commonwealth; for all j who could decently withdraw, went off greatly dejected. Perceiving the false step he had taken, he re- tired immediately to his own house; and laying his neck bare, told his friends, "He was ready for the first hand that would strike." He then be- thought himself of alleging his distemper as an excuse; and asserted, that those who are under its influence, are apt to find their faculties fail them, when they speak standing; a trembling and giddiness coining upon them, which bereaves i them of their senses. This, however, was not really the case; lor it is said, he was desirous to rise to the senate; but Cornelius Balbus, one of his friends, or rather flatterers, held him, and had servility enough to say, " Will you not remem- ber that you are Caesar, and suffer them to pay their court to you as their superior?" These discontents were greatly increased by the indignity with which he treated the tribunes of the people. In the Lvpercali-a, which, according to most writers, is an ancient pastoral feast, and which answers in many respects to the Lyctea among the Arcadians, young men of noble fami- lies, and indeed many of the magistrates, run about the streets naked, and, by way of diversion, strike all they meet with leathern thongs with the hair upon them. Numbers of women of the first quality put themselves in their way, and present j their hands for stripes (as scholars do to a mas- ter), being persuaded that the pregnant gain an easy delivery by it, and that the barren are en- (abled to conceive. Caesar wore a triumphal robe i that day. and seated himself in a golden chair upon the rostra, to see the ceremony. Antony ran among the rest, in compliance with the rules of the festival, for he was consul. When j he came into the forum, and the crowd had made way for him, he approached Ca:sar, and offered him a diadem wreathed with laurel. Upon this I some plaudits were heard, but very feeble, because ! the}' proceeded only from persons placed there on ; purpose. Ceesar refused it, and then the plaudits I were loud and general. Antony presented it once more, and few applauded his officiousness; but J when Cffisar rejected it again, the applauso again i was general. Ceesar, undeceived by his second : trial, rose up, and ordered the diadem to be con- | secrated in the capitol. A few days after, his statues were seen adorned j with royal diadems; and Flavius and Murullus, i two of the tribunes, went and tore them off 1 They also found out the persons who first saluted 480 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Ceesar king, and committed them to prison. The I people followed with cheerful acclamations, and ' called them Brutuses, hecause Brutus was the man who expelled the kings, and put the govern- ment in the hands of the senate and people. Cae- sar, highly incensed at their behavior, deposed the tribunes; and by way of reprimand to them, as well as insult to ihe people, called them several times Brutes and Cumfeans. Upon this, many applied to Marcus Brutus, who, by the father's side, was supposed to be a descendant of that ancient Brutus, and whose mother was of the illustrious house of the Ser- villi. He was also nephew and son-in-law to Cato. No man was more inclined than he to lift his hand against monarchy, but he was withheld by the honors and favors he had received from Csesar, who hud not only given him his life after the defeat of Pompey at Pharsalia, and pardoned many of his friends at his request, but continued to honor him with his confidence. That very year he had procured him the most honorable praetorship, and he had named him for the consul- ship four years after, in preference to Cassius, who was his competitor. On which occasion Ceesar is reported to have said, " Cassius assigns the strongest reasons, but I cannot refuse Brutus." Some impeached Brutus, after the conspiracy was formed; but, instead of listening to them, he laid his hand on his body, and said, " Brutus will wait for this skin:" intimating that though the virtue of Brutus rendered him worthy of empire, he would not be guilty of any ingratitude or baseness to obtain it. Those, however, who were desirous of a change, kept their eyes upon him only, or principally at least; and as they durst not speak out plain, they put billets night after night in the tribunal and seat which he used as praetor, mostly in these terms: "Thou sleepest, Brutus; " or, " Thou art not Brutus." Cassius perceiving his friend's ambition a little stimulated by these papers, began to ply him closer than before, and spur him on to the great enterprise; for he had a particular enmity against Caesar, for the reasons which we have mentioned in the life of Brutus. Caesar, too, had some sus- picion of him, and he even said one day to his friends, "What think you of Cassius? I do not like his pale looks." Another time, when An- tony and Dolabella were accused of some designs against his person and government, he said, " I have no apprehensions from those fat and sleek men; I rather fear the pale and lean ones;" meaning Cassius and Brutus. It seems, from this instance, that fate is not so secret as it is inevitable; for we are told, there were strong signs and presages of the death of Caesar. As to the lights in the heavens, the strange noises heard in various quarters by night, and the appearance of solitary birds in the forum, perhaps they deserve not our notice in so great an event as this But some attention should be given to Straho the philosopher. According to him, there were seen in the air men of fire en- countering each other; such a flame appeared to issue from the hand of a soldier's servant, that all the spectators thought it must be burned, yet, when it was over, he found no harm, and one of the victims which Caesar offered, was found with- out a heart. The latter was certainly a most alarming prodigy; for, according to the rules of nature, no creature can exist without a heart. What is still more extraordinary, many report, that a certain soothsayer forewarned him of a great danger which threatened him on the ides of March, and that when the day was come, as he was going to the senate-house, he called to th soothsayer, and said, laughing, " The ides of March are come;" to which he answered softly, " Yes; but they are not gone." The evening before, he supped with Marcus Lepidus, and signed, according to custom, a num- ber of letters, as he sat at table. While he was so employed, there arose a question. "What kind of death was (he best? " and Caesar answer- ing before them all, cried out, " A sudden one." Tfie same night, as he was in bed with his wife, the doors and windows of the room flew open at once. Disturbed both with the noise and the light, he observed, by moonshine, Calpurnia in a deep sleep; uttering broken words and inarticulate groans. She dreamed that she was weeping over him, as she held him, murdered, in her arrna. Others say, she dreamed that the* pinnacle was fallen, which, as Livy tells us, the senate had or- dered to be erected upon Cesar's house, by way of ornament and distinction; and that it was the fall of it which she lamented and wept for. Be that as it may, the next morning she conjured Cffisar not to go out that day, if he could possibly avoid it, but to adjourn the senate; and, if he had no regard to her dreams, to have recourse to some other species of divination, or to sacrifices, for information as to his fate. This gave him some suspicion and alarm; for he had never known be- fore, in Calpurnia, anything of the weakness or superstition of her sex, though she was now so much affected. He therefore offered a number of sacrifices, and, as the diviners found no suspicious tokens in any of them, he sent Antony to dismiss the sen- ate. In the meantime, Decius Brutus,f surnamed Albinus, came in. He was a person in whom Caesar placed such confidence that he had ap- pointed him his second heir, yet he was engaged in the conspiracy with the other Brutus and Cas- sius. This man, fearing that if Ca?sar adjourned the senate to another day the affair might be dis- covered, laughed at the diviners, and told Caesar he would be highly to blame, if, by such a slight, he gave the senate an occasion of complaint against him. " For they were met," he said, "at his summons, and came prepared with one voice to honor him with the title of king in the pro- vinces, and to grant that he should wear the dia- dem both by sea and land everywhere out of Italy. But if any one go and tell them, now they have taken their places, they must go home again, and return when Calpurnia happens to have better dreams, what room will your enemies have to launch out against you! Or who will hear your friends when they attempt to show, that this is not an open servitude on the one hand, and tyranny on the other? If you are absolutely persuaded that this is an unlucky day, it is cer- tainly better to go yourself, and tell them you have strong reasons for putting off business until another time." So saying, he took Caesar by the hand, and led him out. He was not gone far from the door, when a slave, who belonged to some other person, at- tempted to get up to speak to him, but finding it impossible, by reason of the crowd that was about him, he made his way into the house, and putting himself into the hands of Calpurnia, desired her * The pinnacle was an ornament usually placed upon th top of their temples, and was commonly adorned with some statues of their gods, figures of victory, or other symbolical device. t Plutarch, finding a D prefixed to Brutus, took it for Decias; but his name was Decimus lirvtus. See Appiao and Suetonias. C ^E S A R . 481 to keep him safe until Caesar's return, because he had matters of great importance to communicate. Artemidorus the Cnidian, who, by teaching the Greek eloquence, became acquainted with some of Brutus's friends, and had got intelligence of most of the transactions, approached Caesar with a paper, explaining what he had to discover. Observing that he gave the papers, as fast as he received them, to his officers, he got up as close as possible, and said, " Ceesar, read this to your- self, an,; quickly: for it contains matters of great consequence, and of the last concern to you." He took it and attempted several times to read it, but was always prevented by one application or other. He therefore kept that paper; and that only in his hand, when he entered the house. Some say, it was delivered to hirn by another man,* Artemidorus being kept from approaching him all the way by the crowd. These things might, indeed, fall out by chance; but as in the place where the senate was that day assembled, and which proved the scene of that tragedy, there was a statue of Pompey, and it was an edifice which Pompey had consecrated for an ornament to his theater, nothing can be clearer than that some deity conducted the whole busi- ness, and directed the execution of it to that very spot. Even Cassius himself, though inclined to the doctrines of Epicurus, turned his eye to the statue of Pompey, and secretly invoked his aid, before the great att&mpt. The arduous occasion, It seems, overruled his former sentiments, and laid them open to all the influence of enthusiasm. Antony, who was a faithful friend to Csesar, and a man of great strength, was held in discourse without, by Brutus Albinus, who had contrived a long story to detain him. When Cresar entered the house, the senate rose to do him honor. Some of Brutus's accomplices came up behind his chair, and others before it, pretending to intercede, along with Metilliusf Cirnber for the recall of his brother from exile. They continued their instances until he came to his seat. When he was seated he gave them a positive denial; and as they continued their im- portunities with an air of compulsion, he grew angry. Cirnber,} then, with both hands, pulled his gown off his neck, which was the signal for the attack. Casca gave him the first blow. It was a stroke upon the neck with his sword, but the wound was not dangerous; for in the begin- ning of so tremendous an enterprise he was pro- bably in some disorder. Caesar therefore turned upon him and laid hold of his sword. At the same time they both cried out, the one in Latin, " Villain! Casca! what dost thou mean?" and the other in Greek, to his brother, "Brother, help!" After such a beginning, those who knew nothing of the conspiracy were seized with consternation and horror, insomuch that they durst neither fly or assist, nor even utter a word. All the con- spirators now drew their swords, and surrounded him in such a manner, that whatever way he turned, he saw nothing but steel gleaming in his face, and met nothing but wounds. Like some savage beast attacked by the hunters, he found every hand lifted against him, for they all agreed * By Caius Trebonius. So Plutarch says, in the life of Brntns; Appian says the same; and Cicero, too, in his sec- end Philippic. t MctiUius is plainly a corruption. Suetonius calls him Cimfcr Tullius. In Appian, he is named Antilius Ciinbfr, and there is a medal which bears that name; hut that nedal is believod to be spnrions. Some c.ill hirn IVTelel- luis (timber; and others suppose we should road M. Tullius Ciwtrar. t Here in the original it u Metiliius again. [to have a share in the sacrifice and a taste of his I blood. Therefore Brutus himself gave him a stroke in the groin. Some say, he opposed the rest, and continued struggling and crying o'ut, until he perceived the sword of Brutus; then ha drew his robe over his face, and yielded to his fate. Either by accident, or pushed thither by the conspirators, he expired on the pedestal of Pornpey's statue, and dyed it with his blood; so that Pompey seemed to preside over the work of vengeance, to tread his enemy under his feet, ant* to enjoy his agonies. Those agonies were great, for he received no less than three and twenty wounds. And many of the conspirators wounded each other, as they were aiming their blows at him. Csesar thus dispatched, Brutus advanced to speak to the senate, and to assign his reasons fot what he had done, but they could not bear to hear him; they fled out of the house, and filled the people with inexpressible horror and dismay. Some shut up their houses; others left their shop* and counters. All were in motion; one was run- ning to see the spectacle; another running back. Antony and Lepidus, Ccesar's principal friends, withdrew, and hid themselves in other people's houses. Meantime Brutus and his confederates, yet warm from the slaughter, marched in a body with their bloody swords in their hands, from the senate-house to the Capitol, not like men that fled, but with an air of gayety and confidence, calling the people to liberty, and stopping to talk with every man of consequence whom they met. There were some who even joined them, and mingled with their train; desirous of appearing to have had a share in the action, and hoping for one in the glory. Of this number were Caius Octavius and Lentulus Spinther, who afterward paid dear for their vanity; being put to death by Antony and young Caesar. So that they gained not even the honor for which they lost their lives; for nobody believed that they had any part in the enterprise; and they were punished not for the deed, but for the will. Next day Brutus, and the rest of the conspi- rators came down from the Capitol, and addressed the people, who attended to their discourse with- out expressing either dislike or approbation of what was done. But by their silence it appeared that they pitied Csesar, at the same time that they revered Brutus. The senate passed a general amnesty; and, to reconcile all parties, they de- creed Csesar divine honors, and confirmed all the acts of his dictatorship; while on Brutus and his friends they bestowed governments, and such honors as were suitable: so that it was gene- rally imagined the commonwealth was firmly established again, and all brought into the bes. order. But when, upon the opening of Caesar's will, it was found that he had left every Roman citizen a considerable legacy, and they beheld the body, as it was carried through the forum, all mangled witli wounds, the multitude could no longer be kept within bounds. They stopped the proces, sion, and tearing up the benches, with the doora and tables, heaped them into a pile, and burned the corpse there. Then snatching flaming brands from the pile, some ran to burn the houses of thu assassins, while others ranged the city, to find the conspirators themselves, and tear them in pieces; but they had taken such care to secure themselves that they could not meet with one of them. One China, a friend of Caesar's, had a strange dreurn the preceding night. He dreamed (as they jtell us) that Cassar invited him to supper, and, 482 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. upon his refusal to go, caught him by the hand, and drew him after him, in spite of all the resist- ance he could make. Hearing, however, that the tody of Caesar was to be burned in lliG forum, he went to assist in doing him the last honors, though lie. had a fever upon him, the consequence of his uneasiness about ftis dream. On his coming up, one of the populace asked, " Who that was?" and having learned his name, told it to his next neighbor. A report immediately spread through the whole company, that it was one of Caesar's murderers; and, indeed, one of the conspirators was named Cinna. The multitude, taking this for the man, fell upon him, and tore him to pieces upon the spot. Brutus and Cassius were so terri- fied at this rage of the populace, that, a few days after they left the city. An account of their sub- sequent actions, sufferings, and death, may be found in the life of Brutus. Caesar died at the age of fifty-six, and did not survive Pompey above four years. His object was sovereign power and authority, which lie pursued through innumerable dangers, and by prodigious efforts he gained it at last. But he reaped no other fruit from it than an empty and invidious title. It is true the Divine Power, which conducted him through life, attended him after his death as his avenger, pursued and hunted out the assassins over sea and land, and rested not until there was not a man left, either of those who dipped their hands in his blood, or of those who gave their sanction to the deed. The most remarkable of natural events relative to this affair was, that Cassius, after he had lost the battle of Philippi, killed himself with the same dagger which he had made use of against Caesar; and the most signal phenomenon in the heavens was that of a great comet,* which shone very bright for seven nights after Caesar's death, and then disappeared. To which we may add the fading of the sun's luster; for his orb looked pale all that year; he rose not with a snarkling radi- ance, nor had the heat he afforded its usual strength. The air of course, was dark and heavy, for want of that vigorous heat which clears and rarifies it; and the fruits were so crude and un- concocted, tiiat they pined away and decayed, through the chillness'of the atmosphere. We have a proof still more striking that the assassination of CaBsar was displeasing to the gods, iu the phantom that appeared to Brutus. The story of it is this: Brutus was on the point of transporting his army from Abydos to the op- posite continent; and the night before, he lay in his tent, awake, according to custom, and in deep thought about what might be the event of the war; for it was natural for him to watch great part of the night, and no general ever required so little sleep. With all his senses about him, ho heard a noise at the door of his tent, and looking toward the light, which was now burned very low, he saw a terrible appearance in the human form, but of prodigious stature and the most hideous aspect. At first he was struck with astonishment; but when he saw it neither did nor spoke anything to him, but stood in silence by his bed, lie asked it, "Who it was?" The spec- ter answered, "I am thy evil genius, Brutus; thou shall see me at Philippi." Brutus answered boldly, " I'll meet thee there;" and the specter immediately vanished. Some time after he engaged Antony and Octa- vius Ca3sar at Philippi, and the first day was vic- torious, carrying all before him where he fought in person, and even pillaging Caesar's camp. The night before he was to fight the second battle, the same specter appeared to him again, but spoke not a word. Brutus, however, understood that his last hour was near, and courted danger with all the violence of despair. Yet he did not fall iu the action; but seeing all was lost, he retired to the top of a rock, where he presented his naked sword to his breast, and a friend, as they tell us, assisting the thrust, he died upon the spot.f PHOCION. DEMADES the orator, by studying in his whole administration to please the Macedonians and An- tipater, had great authority in Athens. When he found himself by that complaisance often obliged to propose laws and make speeches injurious to the dignity and virtue of his country, he used to Bay, " He was excusable, because he came to the helm when the commonwealth was no more than a wreck." This assertion, which in him was unwarrantable, was true enough when applied to * "A comet made its appearance in the north, while we were celebrating the games in honor of Caesar, and shone bright for seven days. It arose about the eleventh hour of the day, and was seen by all nations. It was commonly believed to be a si^n that, the soul of Casar was admitted nmong the gods; for which reason we added a star to the head of his statue, consecrated soon after in the forum." Fragm. Aug. C<.-i. ap. Plin., 1. ii. c. 25. t Whatever Plutarch's motive may have been, it is cer- tain that he has given us a very inadequate and imperfect idea of the character of Caesar. The life he has written is a confused jumble of facts, snatched from different histo- rians, without order, consistency, regularity or accuracy. He has left us none of those finer and minuter traits, which, &s he elsewhere justly observes, distinguish and characterize the man more than his most popular and splendid opera- tions lie has written the life of Caesar like a man under lraiuv; htu skimmed over his actions, and shown a maai- the administration of Phocion. Demades wa tha very man who wrecked his country. He pur?ae<) such a vicious plan both in his private and ptuilic conduct, that Antipater scrupled not to say of him, when he was grown old, " That he was like a sacrificed beast, all consumed except his tongue and his paunch."* But the virtue of Phociou found a strong and powerful adversary in the times, and its glory was obscured in the gloomy period of Greece's misfortunes. For Virtue is not fest satisfaction when he could draw the attention of the reader to other characters and circumstances, however in- significant, or how often soever repeated by himself, in the narrative of other lives. Yet, from the little light he hai afforded us, and from the better accounts of other historians, we may easily discover, that Cresar was a man of great and distinguished virtues. Had he been as able in his political, as he was in his military capacity; had he been capable of hiding, or even of managing that openness of mind, which was the connate attendant of his liberality and ambition, the last prevailing passion would not have blinded him s far, as to put so early a period to his race of glory. * The tongue and the paunch were not burned with th rest of the victim. The paunch used to be stuffed and served up at table, and the tongue was burned on the altar, at the end of the entertainment, in honor of Mer.mrv, and had libations poured upon it. Of this there are many xuu- pies in Homer's Odyssey. BO weak as Sophocles would make her, nor is the veiitiment just which he puts in the mouth of one of the persons of his drama, The firmest mind will fail Beneath misfortune's stroke, and, stunn'd, depart From its sage plan of action.* All the advantage that Fortune can truly be affirmed to gain in her combats with the good and virtuous is, the bringing upon them unjust re- proach and censure, instead of the honor and esteem which are their due, and by that means lessening the confidence the world would have in their virtue. It is imagined, indeed, that when affairs prosper, the people, elated with their strength and success, behave with greater insolence to good ministers; but it is the very reverse. Misfortunes always Bour their temper; the least tiling will then disturb them; they take fire at trifles; and they are impa- tient at the least severity of expression. He who reproves their faults, seems to reproach them with their misfortunes, and every bold and free address is considered as an insult. As honey makes a wounded or ulcerated member smart, so it often happens, that a remonstrance, though pregnant with truth and sense, hurts, and irritates the dis- tressed, if it is not gentle and mild in the applica- tion. Hence Homer often expresses such things as are pleasant, by the word menoikes, which signifies what is symphonious to the mind, what soothes its weakness, and bears not hard upon its inclinations. Inflamed eyes love to dwell upon dark brown colors and avoid such as are bright and glaring. So it is with a state, in any series of ill-conducted and unprosperous measures; such is the feeble and relaxed condition of itb nerves, that it cannot bear the least alarm; the voice of truth, which brings its faults to its remembrance, gives it inexpressible pain, though not only salu- tary, but necessary; and it will not be heard, except its harshness is modified. It is a difficult task to govern such a people; for if the man who tells them the truth falls the first sacrifice, he who flatters them, at last perishes with them. The mathematicians say, the sun does not move in the same direction with the heavens, nor yet in a direction quite opposite; but circulating with a gentle and almost insensible obliquity, gives the whole system such a temperature as tends to its preservation. So in a system of government, if a statesman is determined to describe a straight line, and in all things to go against the inclinations of the people, such rigor must make his administra- tion odious; and, on the other hand, if he suffers himeelf to be carried along with their most erro neous motions, the government will soon be in a tottering and ruinous state. The latter is the more common error of the two. But the politics which keep a middle course, sometimes slacken- ing the reins, and sometimes keeping a tighter hand, indulging the people in one point to gain another that is more important, are the only mea- sures that are formed upon rational principles: for a well-timed condescension and moderate treat- ment will bring men to concur in many useful schemes, which they could not be brought into by despotism and violence. It must be acknow- ledged, that this medium is difficult to hit upon because it requires a mixture of dignity wit! gentleness; but when the just temperature is gain- ed, it presents the happiest and most perfecl harmony that can be conceived. It is by this sublime harmony the Supreme Being governs the world; for nature is not dragged into obedience to P H C I N . 483 lis commands, and though his influence i? irre- istible, it is rational and mild. The effects of austerity were seen in the younger Cato. There was nothing engaging or popular u- his behavior; he never studied to oblige the people, and therefore his weight in the adminis- .ration was not great. Cicero says, " He acted as if he had lived in the commonwealth of Plato, lot in the dregs of Romulus, and by that means ell short of the consulate.'** His case appears ;o me to have been the same with that of fruit vhich comes out of season: people look upon it with pleasure and admiration, but they make no use of it. Thus the old-fashioned virtue of Cato, naking its appearance amidst the luxury and corruption which lime had introduced, had all the splendor of reputation which such a phenomenon could claim, but it did not answer the exigencies of the state; it was disproportioned to the times, and too ponderous and unwieldy for use. Indeed, nis circumstances were not altogether like those of Phocion, who came not into the administration until the state was sinking;f whereas Cato had only to save the ship beating about in the storm. At the same time we must allow that he had not he principal direction of her; he sat not at the helm; he could do no more than help to hand the sails and the tackle. Yet he maintained a noble onflict with Fortune, who having determined to ruin the commonwealth, effected it by a variety of hands, but with great difficulty, by plow steps and gradual advances. So near was Rome being saved by Cato and Cato's virtue! With it we would compare that of Phocion: not in a general manner, so as to say they were both persons of integrity and able statesmen; for there is a dif- ference between valor and valor, for instance, be- tween that of Alcibiades and that of Epaminon- das; the prudence of Themistocles and that of Aristides were not the same; justice was of one kind in Nurna, and in Agesilaus of another: but the virtues of Phocion and Cato were the same in the most minute particular; their impression, form, and color, are perfectly similar. Thus their severity of manners was equally tempered with humanity, and their valor with caution; they had the same solicitude for others, and disregard for themselves: the same abhorrence of everything base and dishonorable, and the same firm attach- ment to justice on all occasions: so that it requires a very delicate expression, like the finely dis- criminated sounds of the organ, to mark the dif- ference in their characters. It is universally agreed, that Cato was of au illustrious pedigree, which we shall give some ac- count of in his life; and we conjecture, that Pho- cion's was not mean or obscure; for had he been the son of a turner, it would certainly have been mentioned by Glaucippus, the son of Hyperides, among a thousand other things, in the treatise which he wrote on purpose to disparage him. Nor, if his birth had been so low, would he have had so good an education, or such a liberal mind Sopfioc. Antig. 1. 5G9 and 570. * The passage here referred to is in the first epistle of Cicero's second book of Atticus. But we find nothing thera of the repulse Cato met with in his application for the con- sulship. That repulse, indeed, did not happen until eight years after the date of that epistle. t Our author means, that uncommon and extraordinary efforts were more necessary to save the poor remains of a wreck, than to keep a ship vet whole and entire from sink- ing. J The Organ here mentioned was probably that invented by Ctesibius, who, according to Athenians, placed in tii temple of Zephyrus, at Alexandria, a tube, which, collect- ing air by the appulsive motion of water, emitted musical sounds, either by their strength adapted to war, or bjr then lightness to festivity. 484 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and manners. It is certain that, when very young:, | ho was in tuition with Plato, and afterward with | Xenocrates in the Academy; and from the very j first, lie distinguished himself by his strong ap- | plication to the most valuable studies. Duris tells ' us, the Athenians never saw him either laugh or ! cry, or make use of a public bath, or put his hand from under his cloak, when he was dressed to ap- pear in public. If he made an excursion into the country, or rnarched*but to war, he went always barefooted, and without his upper garment too, except il happened to be intolerably cold; and then his solawrs used to laugh, and say " It is a sign of a sharp winter; Phocion has got his clothes on." He was one of the most hurriane and best tem- pered men in the world, and yet he had so ill- natured and forbidding a look., that strangers were afraid to address him without company. There- fore, when Chares, the orator, observed to the Athenians what terrible brows Phocion had, and they could not help making themselves merry, he said, " This brow of mine never gave one of you an hour of sorrow; but the laughter of these sueorers has cost their country many a tear." In like manner, though the measures he proposed were happy ones, and his counsels of the most i salutary kind, yet he used no flowers of rhetoric; his speeches were concise, commanding, and severe. For, as Z,-no says, that a philosopher should never let a word come out of his mouth that is not strongly tinctured with sense; so Phociou's oratory contained the most sense in the fewest words. And it seems that Polyeuctus, the Sphettian, had this view when he said, " Demosthenes was the better orator, and Phocion the more persuasive speaker." His speeches were to be estimated like coins, not for the size, but for the intrinsic value. Agreeably to which, we are told, that one day when the theater was full of people, Phocion was observed behind the scenes wrapped up in thought, when one of his friends took occasion to say, "What! at your meditations, Phocion?" "Yes," said he, " I am considering whether I cannot shorten what I have to say to the Athe- nians." And Demosthenes, who despised the other orators, when Phocion got up, used to say to his friends softly, " Here comes the pruner of my periods." But perhaps this is to be ascribed to the excellence of his character, since a word or a nod from a person revered for his virtue is of more weight than the most elaborate speeches of other men. In his youth he served under Chabrias, then commander of the Athenian armies; and, as he paid him all proper attention, he gained much military knowledge by him. In some degree too he helped to correct the temper of Chabrias, which was impetuous and uneven. For that general, though at other times scarce anything could move him, in time of action was violent, and ex- posed his person with a boldness ungoverned by discretion. At last it cost him his life, when he made it a point to get in before the other galleys to the isle of Chios, and attempted to make good his landing by uiut of sword. Phocion, whose prudence was equal to his courage, animated him when he was loo slow in his operations, and en- deavored to bring him to act coolly when he was unseasonably violent. This gained him the affec- tion of Chabrias, who was a man of candor and probity; and he assigned him commissions and enterprises of great importance, which raised him to the notice of the Greeks. Particularly in the bea-fight off Naxos, Phocion being appointed to head the squadron on the left, where the action was hottest, had a fine opportunity to distinguish himself, and he made such use of it that victory soon declared for the Athenians; and as this wa the first victory they had gained at sea, in a dis- pute with Greece, since the taking of their city, they expressed the highest regard for Chabrias, and began to consider Phocion as a person in whom they should one day find an able command- er. This battle was won during the celebration of the great mysteries; and Chabrias, in comme- moration of it, annually treated the Athenians with wine on the sixteenth day of September. Some time after this, Chabrias sent Phocion to the Islands, to demand their contributions, and offered him a guard of twenty sail. But Phocion said, "If you send me against enemies, such a fleet is too small; if to friends, one ship is suffi- cient." He therefore went in his own galley, and by addressing himself to the cities and magistrates in an open and humane manner, he succeeded so well as to return with a number of ships which the allies fitted out, and at the same time put their respective quotas of money on board. Phocion not only honored and paid his court to Chabiias as long as he lived, but after his death, continued his attentions to all that belonged to him. With his son Ctesippus he took peculiar care to form him to virtue; and though he found him very stupid and untractable, yet he still labored to correct his errors, as well as to conceal them. Once, indeed, his patience failed him. In one of his expeditions the young man was so troublesome with unseasonable questions, and at- tempts to give advice, as if he knew how to direct the operations better than the general, that at last he cried out, " O Chabrias, Chabrias, what a return do I make thee for thy favors, in bearing with the impertinences of thy son !" He observed, that those who took upon them the management of public affairs, made two de- partments of them, the civil and the military, which they shared as it were by lot. Pursuant to this division, Eubulus, Aristophon, Demosthenes, Lycurgus and Hyperides, addressed the people from the rostrum, and proposed new edicts; while Diophites, Menestheus, Leosthenes, and Chares, raised themselves by the honors and employments of the camp. But Phocion chose rather to move in the walk of Pericles, Aristides, and Solon, who excelled, not only as orators, but as generals; for he thought their fame more complete; each of these great men (to use the words of Archilochus) appearing justly to claim The palms of Mars, and laurels of the muse: and he knew that the tutelar goddess of Athena was equally the patroness of arts and arms. Formed upon these models, peace and tran- quillity were the great objects he had always in view; yet he was engaged in more wa7 - s than any person, either of his own, or of the preceding times. Not that he courted, or even applied for the command ; but he did not decline it when called to that honor by his countrymen. It is certain, he was elected general no less than five- and-forty-times, without once attending to the election; being always appointed in his absence, at the free motion of his countrymen. Men of shallow understanding were surprised that the people should set a such value on Phocion, who generally opposed their inclinations, and never said or did anything with a view to recommend himself. For, as princes divert themselves at their meals with buffoons and jesters, so the Athenians attended to the polite and agreeable address of their orators by way of entertainment only; but when the question was concerning so important a business as the command of their FHOCION. 485 Wees, they returned to sober and serious thinking, v*d selected the wisest citizen, and the man of fthe severest manners, who had combated their ca- pricious humors and desires the most. This he scrupled not to avow, for one day, when an oracle from Delphi was read in the assembly, importing, " That the rest of the Athenians were unanimous in their opinions, and that there was only one man who dissented from them," Phocion stepped up, and told them, " They need not give themselves any trouble in inquiring for this refractory citizen, for he was the man who liked not anything they did." And another time in a public debate, when his opinion happened to be received with universal applause, he turned to his friends, and said, " Have I inadvertently let some bad thing slip from me?" The Athenians were one day making a collec- tion, to defray the charge of a public sacrifice, and numbers gave liberally. Phocion was importuned to contribute among the rest; but he bade them apply to the rich. " I should be ashamed," said he, "to give you anything, and not to pay this man what I owe him," pointing to the usurer Callicles. And as they continued very clamorous and teasing, he told them this tale : "A cowardly fellow once resolved to make a campaign; but when he was set out, the ravens began to croak, and he laid down his arms and stopped. When the first alarm was a little over, he marched again. The ravens re- newed their croaking, and then he made a full stop, and said, You may croak your hearts out if you please, but you shall not taste my carcass." The Athenians once insisted on his leading them against the enemy, and when he refused, they told him nothing could be more dastardly and spiritless than his behavior. He answered, "You can neither make me valiant, nor can I make you cow-irds: however, we know one another very well." Public affairs happening to be in a dangerous situation, the people were greatly exasperated against him, and demanded an immediate account of his conduct. Upon which, he only said, " My good friends, first get out of your difficulties." During a war, however, they were generally humble und submissive, and it was not until after peace was made, that they began to talk in a vaunting manner, and to find fault witli their gen- eral. As they were one time felling Phocion, he had robbed them of the victory which was in their hands, he said, " It is happy for you that you have a general who knows you; otherwise you would have been ruined long ago." Having a difference with the Boeotians, which they refused to settle by treaty, and proposed to de- cide by the sword, Phoci?n said, " Good people, keep to the method in which you have the advan- tage: and that is talking, not fighting." One day, determined not to follow his advice, they refused to give- him the hearing. But he said, " Though you can make me act against my judgment, you shall never make me speak so." Demosthenes, one of the orators of the adverse party, happening to say, "The Athenians will cer- tainly kill thee, Phocion, some time or other; " he answered, " They may kill me, if they are mad; but it will be you, if they are in their senses." When Polyeuctas, the Sphettian, advised the Athenians to make war upon Philip, the weather being hot, and the orator a corpulent man, he ran himself out of breath, and perspired so violently, that he was forced to take several draughts of cold water, before he could finish his speech. Phocion, seeing him in such a condition, thus addressed the assembly, " You have great reason to pass an sdict for the war, upon this man's recommenda- tion. For what are you not to expect from him, when londed with a suit of armor he march.es against the enemy, if in delivering to you (peace- able folks) a speech which he had composed at his leisure, he is ready to be suffocated." Lycurgus, the orator, one day said many dis- paraging things of him in the general assembly, and among the rest, observed that when Alexan- der demanded ten of their orators, Phocion gave it as his opinion that they should be delivered to him. " It is true," said Pliocioi, " I have given the people of Athens much g'ood counsel, but they do not follow it." There was then in Athens one Archibiades, who got the name of Laconistes, by letting his beard grow long, in the Lacedaemonian manner, wear- ing a thread-bare cloak, and keeping a very grave countenance. Phocion finding one of his asser- tions much contradicted in the assembly, culled upon this man to support the truth and rectitude of what he had said. Archibiades, however, ranged himself on the people's side, and advised what he thought agreeable to them. Then Pho- cion, taking him by the beard, said, "What is all this heap of hair for? Cut it, cut it off. " Aristogiton, a public informer, paraded with his pretended valor before the people, and pressed them much to declare war. But when the lists came to be made out, of those that were to serve, this swaggerer had got his leg bound up, and a crutch under his arm. Phocion, as he sat upon the business, seeing him at some distance iu this form, called out to his secretary, to put down Aristogiton " a cripple and a coward." All these sayings have something so severe in them that it seems strange that a man of such austere and unpopular manners should ever get the surname of the Good. It is indeed difficult, but I believe, not impossible, for the same man to be both rough and gentle, as some wines are both sweet and sour: and on the other hand, some men who have a great appearance of gentleness in their temper, are very harsh and vexatious to those who have to do with them. In this case, the saying of Hyperides to the people of Athens deserves notice: "Examine not whether I am severe upon you, but whether I am so for my own sake." As if it were avarice only that makes a minister odious to the people, and the abuse of power to the purposes of pride, envy, anger, or revenge, did not make a man equally obnoxious. As to Phocion, he never exerted himself against any man in his private capacity, or considered him as an enemy; but he was inflexibly severe against every man who opposed his motions and designs for the public good. His behavior, in other respects, was liberal, benevolent, and hu- mane; the unfortunate he was always ready to assist, and he pleaded even for his enemy, if he happened to be in danger. His friends, one day, finding fault with him for appearing in behalf of a man whose conduct did not deserve it ; he said, " The good have no need of an advocate." Aris- togiton, the informer, being condemned, and com- mitted to prison, begged the favor of Phocion to go and speak to him, and he hearkened to his ap- plication. His friends dissuaded him from it, but he said, " Let me alone, good people. Where can one rather wish to speak to Aristogiton than in a prison?" When the Athenians sent out their fleets under any other commander, the maritime towns and islands in alliance with that people, looked upon every such commander as an enemy ; they strengthened their walls, shut up their harbors, and conveyed the cattle, the slaves, the women and 486 PLUTARCH'S LIVES, children, out of the country into the cities. But when Phocion had the command, the same peo- ple went out to meet him in their own ships, with chaplets on their heads and every expression of joy, and in that manner conducted them into their cities. Philip endeavored privately to get footing in Eubo3;t, and for that purpose sent in forces from Maeedon, as well as practiced upon the towns by means of the petty princes. Hereupon, Plutarch of Eretria called -in the Athenians, and entreated them to rescue the island out of the hands of the Macedonians; in consequence of which they sent Phocion at first with a small body of troops, ex- pecting that the Euboeans would immediately rise and join him. But when he came, he found nothing among them but treasonable designs and disaffection to their own country, for they were corrupted by Philip's money. For this reason, he seized an eminence separated from the plains of Tamynre by a deep defile, and in that post he secured the best of his troops. As for the disor- derly, the talkative, and cowardly part of the soldiers, if they attempted to desert and steal out of the camp, he ordered the officers to let them go. " For," said lie, " if they stay here, such is their want of discipline that, instead of being service- able, they will be prejudicial in time of action; and, as they will be conscious to themselves of flying from their colors, we shall not have so much noise and calumny from them in Athens." Upon the approach of the enemy, he ordered his men to stand to their arms, but not attempt anything until he had made an end of his sacri- fice: and, whether it was that he wanted to gain time, or could not easily find the auspicious tokens, or was desirous of drawing the enemy nearer to him, he was long about it. Meanwhile Plutarch, imagining that this delay was owing to his fear and irresolution, charged at the head of the mer- cenaries; and the cavalry seeing him in motion, could wait no longer, but advanced against the enemy, though in a scattered and disorderly man- ner, as they happened to issue out of the camp. The first line being soon broken, all the rest dis- persed, and Plutarch himself fled. A detachment from the enemy then attacked the intrenchments. and endeavored to make a breach in them, sup- posing that the fate of the day was decided. But at that instant Phocion had finished his sacrifices, and the Athenians sallying out of the camp, fell upon the assailants, routed them, and cut most of them in pieces in the trenches. Phocion then gave the main body directions to keep their ground in order to receive and cover such as were dispersed in the first attack, while he, with a select party, went and charged the enemy. A sharp conflict ensued, both sides behaving with great spirit and intrepi- dity. Among the Athenians, Thallus the son of Cineas, and Glaucus the son of Polymedes, who fought near the general's person, distinguished themselves the most. Cleophanes, too, did great service in the action; for he rallied the cavalry, and brought them up again, by calling after them and insisting that they should come to the assistance of their general, who was in danger. They re- turned, therefore, to the charge; and by the assist- ance which they gave the infantry secured the victory. Phocion, after the battle, drove Plutarch out of Eretria, and made himself master of Zaretra, a fort, advantageously situated where the island draws to a point, and the neck of land is defended en each side by the sea. He did not choose, in pursuance of his victory, to take the Greeks prisouers, lest the Athenians, influenced by their orators, should, in the first motions of resent. ment, pass some inequitable sentence upon them After this great success, he sailed back to Athens. The allies soon found the want of his goodness and justice, and the Athenians saw his capacity and courage in a clear light. For Mo- lossus, who succeeded him, conducted the war so ill as to fall himself into the enemy's hands. Philip, now rising in his designs and hopes, marched to the Hellespont with all his forces, in. order to seize at once on the Chersonesus, Perin- thus and Byzantium. The Athenians determining to send succors to that quarter, the orators prevailed upon them to ! give that commission to Chares. Accordingly he sailed to those parts, but did nothing worthy of such a force as he was intrusted with. The cities would not receive his fleet into their harbors; but, suspected by all, he beat about, raising contribu- tions where he could upon the allies, and, at the same time, was despised by the enemy. The orators, now taking the other side, exasperated the people to such a degree, that they repented of having sent any succors to trie Byzantiins, j Then Phocion rose up, ai>J told them, "They should not be angry at t v .e suspicions of the al- lies, but at their own geLeruis, who deserved not to have any confidence p'.aced in them. For on their account," said he, " you are looked upon with an eye of jealousy by the very people who cannot be saved without your assistance." Thia argument had such an effect on thqm that they changed their minds again, and bade Phocion go himself with another armament to the succor of the allies upon the Hellespont. This contributed more than anything to the saving of Byzantium. Phocion's imputation was already great: beside, Cleon, a man of eminence in Byzantium, who had formerly been well ac- quainted with him at the academy, pledged his honor to the city in his behalf. The Byzantians would then no longer let him encamp without, but opening their gates received him into their city, and mixed familiarly with the Athenians; who, charmed with this confidence, were not only easy with respect to provisions, and regular in their behavior, but exerted themselves with great spirit in every action. By these means Philip was forced to retire from the Hellespont, and he suf- fered not a little in his military reputation; for until then he had been deemed invincible. Pho- cion took some of his ships, and recovered seve- ral cities which he had garrisoned; and making descents in various parts of his territories, he harassed and ravaged the flat country. But at last, happening to be wounded by a party that made head against him, he weighed anchor and returned home. Some time after this, the Megarensians applied to him privately for assistance; and as he was afraid the matter would get. air, and the Bosotiana would prevent him, he assembled the people early in the morning, and gave them an account of the application. They hud no socHier given their sanction to the proposal, than he ordered the trumpets to sound as a signal for them to arm; after which he marched immediately to Megara, where he was received with great joy. The first thing he did was to fortify Nisaaa, and to build two good walls between the city and the port; by which means the town had a safe communication with the sea, and having now little to fear from the enemy on the land side, was secured m the Athenian interest. The Athenians being now clearly in a state if hostility with Philip, the conduct >i the war v> PHOCION. 487 sommitted to other generals in the absence of Phocion. But on his return from the islands, he represented to the people, that as Philip was peace- ably disposed, and apprehensive of the issue of the war, it was best to accept the conditions he had offered. And when one of those public barreters, who spend their whole time in the court of He- liaca, and make it their business to form impeach- ments, opposed him, and said, " Dare you, Pho- cion, pretend to dissuade the Athenians from war, now tlie sword is drawn? " "Yes," said he, "I dare; though I know thou wouldst -be in my power in time of war, and I shall be in thine in time of peace." Demosthenes, however, carried it against him for war; which he advised the Athenians to make at the greatest distance they could from Attica. This gave Phocion occasion to say, " My good friend, consider not so much where we shall fight, as how we shall conquer. For victory is the only thing that can keep the war at a distance: If we are beaten, every danger will soon be at our gates." The Athenians did lose the day; after which the most factious and troublesome part of the citizens drew Charidemus to the hustings, and in- sisted that he should have the command. This alarmed the real well-wishers to their country so much, that they called in the members of the Areopagus to their assistance; and itwas not with- out many tears and the most earnest entreaties, that they prevailed upon the assembly to put their concerns in the hands of Phocion. He was of opinion, that the other proposals of Philip should be readily accepted, because they seemed to be dictated by humanity; but when Demades moved that Athens should be compre- hended in the general peace, and, as one of the states of Greece, should have the same terms with the other cities, Phocion said, " It ought not to be agreed to, until it was known what conditions Philip required." The times were against him, however, and he was overruled. And when he saw the Athenians repented afterward, because they found themselves obliged to furnish Philip both with ships of war and cavalry, he said, " This wus the thing I feared; and my opposition was founded upon it. But since you have signed the treaty, you must bear its inconveniences withoul murmuring or despondence ; remembering thai your ancestors sometimes gave law to their neigh- bors, and sometimes were forced to submit, bul did both with honor ; and by that means saved themselves and all Greece." When the news of Philip's death was brought to Athens, he would not suffer any sacrifices 01 rejoicings to be made on that account. " Nothing,' said he, "could show greater meanness of spiri than expressions of joy on the death of an enemy What great reason, indeed, is there for it, whei the army you fought with at Cheroncea is lessenet only by one man." Demosthenes gave into invectives against Alex- ander, when he was marching against Thebes the ill policy of which Phocion easily perceived and said, "What boots the godlike plant to provoke, Whose arm may sink us at a single stroke?"*' Pope, Odyss. 9. * When you see such a dreadful fire near you would you plunge Athens into it? For rny part [ will not suffer you to ruin yourselves, thougl your inclinations lie that way; and to preven * These words are addressed to Ulysses, hy his compan ions, to restrain him from provoking the giant Polyphemus .t'ter they were escaped out of his cave aud got on boari tlieii ship. every step of that kind is the end I proposed iu taking the command." When Alexander had destroyed Thebes, he sent ,o the Athenians, and demanded that they should leliver up to him Demosthenes, Lycurgus, Hype- rides, and Charidemus. The whole assembly cast heir eves upon Phocion, and called upon him oftea jy name. At last he rose up; and placing by him one of his friends, who had the greatest share in lis confidence and affection, he expressed himself as follows : "The persons whom Alexander de- mands have brought the commonwealth into such miserable circumstances, that if he demanded even my friend Nicocles, I should vote for delivering him up. For my own part, I should think it the reatest happiness to die for you all. At the same time, I am not without compassion for the poor Thebans who have taken refuge here; but it is enough for Greece to weep for Thebes, without weeping for Athens too. The best measure, then* we can take is to intercede wilh the conqueror for both, and by no means to think of fighting." The first decree drawn up in consequence of these deliberations, Alexander is said to have re- jected, and to have turned his hack upon the depu- ties: but the second he received, because it was brought by Phocion, who, as his old counselors informed him, stood high in the esteem of his father Philip. He, therefore, not only gave him a favorable audience, and granted his request, but even listened to his counsel. Phocion advised him, "If tranquillity was his object, to put an end to his wars; if glory, to leave the Greeks in quiet, and turn his arms against the barbarians." la the course of their conference he made many ob- servations so agreeable to Alexander's disposition and sentiments, that his resentment against (he Athenians was perfectly appeased, and he was pleased to say, " The people of Athens must be very attentive to the affairs of Greece; for, if any thing happens to me, the supreme direction will devolve upon them." With Phocion in particu- lar, he entered into obligations of friendship and hospitality, and did him greater honors than most of his own courtiers were indulged with. Nay, Duris tells us, that after that prince was risen to superior greatness, by the conquest of Darius, and had left out the word chairein, the common form of salutation in his address to others, he still re- tained it in writing to Phocion, and to nobody beside, except Antipater. Chares asserts the same. As to his munificence to Phocion, all agree that he sent him a hundred talents. When the money was brought to Athens, Phocion asked the persons employed iu that commission, " Why, among all the citizens of Athens, he should be singled out as the object of such bounty?" "Because," said they, " Alexander looks upon you as the only honest and good man." "Then," said Phocion. " let him permit me always to retain that charac- ter, as well as really to be that man." The en- voys then went home wilh him, and when they saw the frugality that reigned there, his wife baking bread, himself drawing water, and after- ward washing his own feet, they urged him the more to receive the present. They told him, "It gave them real uneasiness, and was indeed an intolerable thing, that the friend of so great a prince should live in such a wretched manner." At that instant a poor old man happening to pass by, in a mean garment, Phocion asked the envoys, " Whether they thought worse of him than of that man?" As they begged of him not to make such a comparison, he rejoined, " Yet that man lives upon less than I do, uud is contented. In one word, it will be to no purpose for me to huvo 488 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. BO much money, if I do not use it; and if I was to live up to it, 1 should bring both myself, and the king, your master, under the censure of the Athe- nians." Thus the money was carried back from Athens and the whole transaction was a good les- called his son to him, and said, " Phocus, why do you suffer your friends thus to sully the honor of your victory?"* In order to correct in his son entirely that incli- nation to luxury, he carried him to Laced a? rn on, son to the Greeks, That the man who did not want land put him among the young men who were such u sum of money ivas richer than lie who could brought up in all the rigor of the ancient discl- bestow it. pline. This gave the Athenians no little offense, Displeased at the refusal of his present, Alexan- r wrote to Pliocion, " That lie could not number der \vr those among his friends who would not receive his gave because it showed in what contempt he held tho manners and customs of his own country. De- mades, one day, said to him, "Why do not we, favors." Yet Pliocion even then would not take j Phocion, persuade the people to adopt the Spartan the money. However, he desired the king to set j form of government? If you choose it, I wil> at liberty Echecratides the sophist, and Athe.no- <iorus the Iberian, as also Demaratus and Sparto, two Rhodians, who were taken up rirnes, and kept in custody at Sardis. for certain Alexander granted his request immediately; and afterward, when he sent Craterus into Macedonia, ordered him to give Phocion his choice of one of these four cities in Asia, Cios, Gergithus, Mylassa, or Elcea. At the same time he was to assure him, that the king would be much more disobliged if he refused his second offer. But Phocion was not to be prevailed upon, and Alexander died soon after. Phocion's house is shown to this day in the borough of Melita, adorned with some plates of copper, but otherwise plain and homely propose a decree for it, and support it in the best manner I am able." "Yes, indeed," said Pho- cion, "it would become you much, with all those perfumes about you, and that, pride, of dress, to launch out in praise of Lycurgus and the Lace*. deemonian frugality." Alexander wrote to the Athenians for a supply of ships, and the orators opposing it, the senate asked Phocion his opinion. "lam of opinion," said he, " that you should either have the sharpest sword, or keep upon good terms with those wlio have." Pytheas the orator, when he first began to speak in public, had a torrent of words and the most consummate assurance. Upon which Pho- cion said, " Is it for thee to prate so who art but a for his probity. It happened one day, when some new tragedians were to act before a full audience, one of the players, who was to personate the queen, demanded a suitable mask (and attire), to- Of his first wife we have no account, except ' novice among UP . that she was sister to Cephisodotus the statuary. When Harpalus had traitorously carried off The other was a matron, no less celebrated among ! Alexander's treasures from Babylon, and came the Athenians for her modesty, prudence, and with them from Asia to Attica, a number of the simplicity of manners, than Phocion himself was j mercenary orators flocked to him, in hopes of sharing in the spoil. He gave these some small taste of his wealth, but to Phocion he sent no less than seven hundred talents; assuring him, at tlifi same time, that he might command his whole gether with a large train of attendants, richly! fortune, if he would take him into his protection, dressed; and, as all these things were not granted J But his messengers found a disagreeable recep- him, he was out of humor, and refused to make his j tion: Phocion told them that "Harpalus should appearance; by which means the whole business | repent it, if he continued thus to corrupt the of the theater was at a stand. But Melanthius, i city." 1 And the traitor, dejected at his disappoint- who was at the charge of the exhibition, pushed j ment -stopped his hand. A few days after, a him in, and said, " Thou seest the wife of Pho- j general assembly being held on this affair, ha eion appear in public with one maid-servant only, j found that the men who had taken his money, in and dost thou come here to show thy pride, and order to exculpate themselves, accused him to tlue to spoil our women?" As Melanthius spoke loud people, while Phocion, who would accept of uo- enough to be heard, the audience received what he j thing, was inclined to serve him, as far as miglit had said with a thunder of applause. When this second wife of Phocion entertained in her house an Ionian lady, one of her friends, the lady showed her her bracelets and necklaces, which had all the magnificence that gold and jewels could give them. Upon which the good matron said, " Pho- be consistent with the public good. Harpalus therefore, paid his court to him again, and took every method to shake his integrity, but he found the fortress on all sides impregnable. Afterward he applied to Charicles, Phocion's son-in-law, and his success with him gave just cause of offense; cion is my ornament, who is now called the | for all the world saw how intimate he was with twentieth time to the command of the Athenian armies." The son of Phocion was ambitious of trying his skill in the games of the panathena* and his father permitted him to make the trial, on condi- tion that it was in the foot-races; not that he set any value upon the victory, but he did it that the preparations and previous exercise might be of eervice to him; for the young man was of a dis- orderly turn, and addicted to drinking. Phocus (that was his name), gained the victory, and a number of his acquaintance desired to celebrate 't by entertainments at their houses; but that favor was granted only to one. When Phocion came to the house, he saw everything prepared in the most extravagant manner, and, among the rest, that wine mingled with spices was provided for washing the feet of the guests. He therefore * See the life of Theseus. him, and that all his business went through his hands. Upon the death of his mistress Pythi- onice, who had brought him a daughter, he even employed Charicles to get a superb monu- ment built for her, and for that purpose fur- nished him with vast sums. This commission, dishonorable enough in itself, became more so by the manner in which he acquitted himself of it. For the monument is still to be seen at Hermos, on the road between Athens and Eleusis, and there appears nothing in it answerable to the charge of thirty talents, which was the account that Charicles brought in.f After the death of * The victory was gained hy means of abstemio.usnes* and laborious exercise, to which such indulgences wer quite contrary. t Yet 1'ausanias says, it was one of the completes! and most curious performances of all the ancient works iit Greece. According to him, it stood on the other side ol the river Cephisus. PHOCION. 489 Harpalus, Charicles and Phocion took his daugh- preserve him for the most pressing occasions, be- ter under their guardianship, and educated her | cause there was not another man in their do r iy- with great care. At last, Charicles was called to account by the public for the money he had re- ceived of Harpalus; and he desired Phocion to support him with his interest, and to appear with him in the court. But Phocion answered, " I made you my son-in-law only for just and hon- orable purposes." Tlie h'rst person that brought the news of Alex- ander's death was Asclepiades the son of Hippar- clius. Demades desired the people to -give no credit to it: " For," said he, " if Alexander were dead, the whole world would smell the carcass." And Phocion, seeing the Athenians elated, and inclined to raise new commotions, endeavored to keep them quiet. Many of the orators, however, ascended the rostrum, and assured the people, that the tidings of Asclepiades, were true ; " Well then," said Phocion, " if Alexander is dead to- day, he will be so to-morrow, and the day follow- ing; so that we may deliberate on that event at our leisure, and take our measures with safety." When Leosthenes, by his intrigues, had involved Athens in the Lamian war, anil saw how much Phocion was displeased at it, he asked him in a scoffing manner, " What good he had done his country, during the many years that he was gen- eral?" "And dost thou think it nothing, then," Said Phocion, " for the Athenians to be buried in the sepulchers of their ancestors?" As Leosthe- nes continued to harangue the people in the most arrogant and pompous manner, Phocion said, "Young man, your speeches are like cypress trees, large and lofly, but without fruit." Hype- rides rose up and said, "Tell us, then, what wiil be the proper time for the Athenians to go to war." Phocion answered, " I do not think it advisable until the young men keep within the bounds of order and propriety, the rich become liberal in their contributions, and the orators for- bear robbing the public." Most people admired the forces raised by Leos- thenes; and when they asked Phocion his opinion of them, he said, " I like them very well for a short race,* but I dread the consequence of a long one. The supplies, the ships, the soldiers, are ail very good; but they are the last we can produce." The event justified his observation. Leosthenes at first gained great reputation by his achieve- ments; for he defeated the Boeotians in a pitched battle, and drove Antipater into Lamia. On this occasion the Athenians, borne upon the tide of hope, spent their time in mutual entertainments and in sacrifices to the gods. Many of them thought, too, they had a fine opportunity to play upon Phocion, and asked him "Whether he should not have wished to have done such great tilings': Certainly I should," t;aid Phocion; but still I should advise not to have attempted them." And when letters and messengers from the army carne one after another, with an account of farther success, he said, " When shall we have done conquering?" Leosthenes died soon after; and the party which was for continuing the war, fearing that if Pho- cion was elected general, he would be for putting an end to it, instructed a man that was little known, to make a motion in the assembly, im- nions to be compared to him." At the same time le was to recommend Antiphilus for the command. The Athenians embracing the proposal, Phocion stood up and told them, " He never was that man's school-fellow, nor had he any acquaintance with lim, but from this moment," said he, turning to him, "I shall number thee among my best frbnds, ince thou hast advised what is most agreeable to me." The Athenians were strongly inclined to prose- cute the war with the Boeotians; and Phocion at first as strongly opposed to it. His friends represented to him, that this violent opposition of his would provoke them to put him to death. They may do it, if they please," said he; "It will be unjustly, if I advise them for the best; but justly, if I should prevaricate." However, wheu be saw that they were not to be persuaded, and that they continued to besiege him with clamor, he ordered a herald to make proclamation, "That all the Athenians, who were not more than sixty years above the age 'of puberty, should take five days' provisions, and follow him immediately from the assembly to the field." This raised a great tumult, and the old mei began to exclaim against the order and to walk off. Upon which Phocion said, "Does this dis- turb you, when I, who am fourscore years old, shall be at the head of you!" That short remon- strance had its effect; it made them quiet and tractable. When Micion marched a considerable :orps of Macedonians and mercenaries to Rham- nus, and ravaged the sea-coast and the adjacent country, Phocion advanced against him with a body of Athenians. On this occasion a number of them were very impertinent in pretending ta dictate or advise him how to proceed. One coun- seled him to secure such an eminence, another to send his cavalry to such a post, and a third point- ed out a place for a camp. " Heavens!" said Phocion, " how many generals we have, and hour few soldiers!" When he had drawn up his army, one of the infantry advanced before the ranks; but when he saw an enemy stepping out to meet him, his heart failed him, and he drew back to his post. Where- upon Phocion said, " Young man, are not you ashamed to desert your station twice in one day, that in which I had placed you, and that iu which you had placed yourself ?" Then he im- mediately attacked the enemy, routed them, and killed great numbers, among whom was their general, Micion. The confederate army of the Greeks in Thessaly likewise defeated Antipater in a great battle, though Leonatus and the Mace- donians from Asia had joined him. In this action Antiphilus commanded the foot, and Menon the Thessalian horse; Leonatus was among the slain. Soon after this Craterus passed over frrorn Asia with a numerous army, and another battle was fought in which the Greeks were worsted. The loss, indeed, was not great; and it was principally owing to the disobedience of the soldiers, who had young officers that did not exert a proper authority. But this, joined to the practice of An- tipater upon the cities, made the Greeks desert the league, and shamefully betray the liberty of their country. As Antipater marched directly porting, " That, as an old friend and school-fellow of Phocion, he desired the people to spare him, and : toward Athens, Demosthenes and Hyperides fled Or rather, " I thinklheylnay run very well from start- | out of the city. As for Demades, he had not Ing-post to the extremity of the course: but I know not how been able, in any degree, to answer the fines that they will hold it back again." The Greeks had two sorts of races; the stadium, in which they ran only right out to the goal; and the doliebus, in which they ran right out an! then back again. had been laid upon him; for he had been amerced seven times for proposing edicts contrary to law He had also been declared infamous, and incapabia 490 P L UTARC H'S LIVES. of speaking in the assembly. But now, finding himsdf at full liberty, he moved for an order that ambassadors should be sent to Antipater, with full powers to treat of peace. The people, alarmed at their present situation, called for Phocion, de- claring- that lie was the only man they could trust. Upon which, IK? said, " If you had followed the counsel I gave you, we should Hot have had now to deliberate on such an affair." Thus the de- cree passed, and Phocion was dispatched to Anti- pater, who then lay with his army in Cadrnea,* and was preparing to enter Attica. His first requisition was, that Antipater would finish the treaty before he left the camp in which he then lay. Craterus said, it was au unreason- able demand, that they should remain there to be troublesome to their friends and allies, when they might subsist at the expense of their enemies. But Antipater took him by the hand, and said, " Let us indulge Phocion so far." As to the con- ditions, he insisted that the Athenians should leave them to him, as he had done at Lamia, to their general Leosthenes. Phocion went and reported this preliminary to the Athenians, which they agreed to out of ne- cessity, and then returned to Thebes, with other ambassadors; the principal of whom was Xeno- crates the philosopher. For the virtue and repu- tation of the latter were so great and illustrious, that the Athenians thought there could be nothing in human nature, so insolent, savage and fero- cious, as not to feel some impressions of respect and reverence at the sight of him. It happened, how- ever, otherwise with Antipater, through his extreme brutality and antipathy to virtue; for he embraced the rest with great cordiality, but would not even speak to Xenocrates; which gave him occasion to say, " Antipater does well in being ashamed be- fore me, and me only, of his injurious designs against Athens." Xenocrates afterward attempted to speak, but Antipater, in great anger, interrupted him, and would not suffer him to proceed.f To Phocion's discourse, however, he gave attention ; and answered, that he should grant the Athenians peace and consider them as his friends on the fol- lowing conditions: "In the first place," said he, " they must deliver up to me Demosthenes and Hyperides. In the next place, they must put their government on the ancient footing, when none but the rich were advanced to the great of- fices of state. A third article is, that they must receive a garrison into Munychia; and a fourth, that they must pay the expenses of the war." All the new deputies, except Xenocrates, thought themselves happy in these conditions. That philosopher said, " Antipater deals favorably with us, if he considers us as his slaves; but hardly, if he looks upon us as freemen." Phocion beg- ged for a remission of the article of the garrison; and Antipater is said to have answered, " Phocion * Dacier, without any necessity, supposes that Plutarcn nses the word Crimea, tor Bceotia. In a poetical way, it is, indeed capable of being understood so; but it is plain from what lo lows, that Antipater then lay at Thebes, and probably in the Cadmea or citadel. t Vet" he had behaved to him with great kindness when be was sent to ransom the prisoners. Antipater, on that occasion, took the first opportunity to invite him to supper; and Xenocrates answered, in those verses of Homer which Ulysses addressed to Circe, who pressed him to partake of the delicacies she had provided: Ul fits it me, whose friends are sunk to beasts, To quaff thy bowls, and riot in thy feasts, Me wonhl'st thou please? For the'm thy cares employ And them to me restore, and me to joy. Antipater was so charmed with the happy application vi these verses, tha,t he released all the prisoners. we will grant thee everything, except what wculd be the ruin of both us and thee." Others say, that Antipater asked Phocion, " Whether, if he ex- cused the Athenians as to the garrison, he would undertake for their observing the other articles, and raising no new commotions?" As Phocion hesitated at this question, Callimedon, surnamed Carabus, a violent man, and an enemy to pop- ular government, started up and said, " Antipater, why do you suffer this man to amuse you? If he should give you his word, would you depend upon it, and not abide by your first resolutions?" Thus the Athenians were obliged to receive a Macedonian garrison, which was commanded by Menyllus, a man of great moderation, and the friend of Phocion. But that precaution appear- ed to be dictated by a wanton vanity; rather an abuse of power to the purposes of insolence, than a measure necessary for the conqueror's af- fairs. It was more severely felt by the Athenians, on account of the time the garrison entered; which was the twentieth of the month of Septem- ber,* when they were celebrating the great mys- teries, and the very day that they carried the god Bacchus iu procession from the city to Eleusis. The disturbances they saw in the ceremonies gave many of the people occasion to reflect on the difference of the divine dispensations with respect to Athens in the present and in ancient times. "Formerly," said they, "mystic visions were seen, and voices heard, to the great happiness of the republic, and the terror and astonishment of our enemies. But now, during the same ceremonies, the gods look without concern upon the severest misfortunes that can happen to Greece, and suf- fer the holiest, and what was once the most agree- able time in the year to be profaned, and rendered the date of our greatest calamities. A few days before, the Athenians had received an oracle from Dodona, which warned them to secure the promontories of Diana against strangers. And about this time, upon washing the sacred fil- lets, with which they bind the mystic beds, histead of the lively purple they used to have, they changed to a faint dead color. What added to the wondei was that all the linen belonging to private persons, which was washed in the same water, retained its former luster. And as a priest was washing a pig in that part of the port called Cantharus, a large fish seized the hinder parts, and devoured them as far as the belly; by which the gods plainly an- nounced, that they would lose the lower parts of the city next the sea, and keep the upper. The garrison commanded by Menyllus, did no sort of injury lo the citizens. But the number excluded, by another article of the treaty, on ac- count of their poverty, from a share in the gov- ernment, was upward of twelve thousand. Such "f these as remained in Athens, appeared to be in u state of misery and disgrace; and such as mi- grated to a city and lands in Thrace, assigned them by Antipater, looked upon themselves as no better than a conquered people transported into a foreign country. The death of Demosthenes in Calauria, and that of Hyperides at Cleonse, of which we have given an account in another place, made the Athenians remember Alexander and Philip with a regret which seemed almost inspired by affection.f The case was the same with them now, as it was with the countryman afterward upon the death of An- * Boedromion. t The cruel disposition of Antipater, who had insisted upon Demosthenes and Hyperides being given up to his re- vene, made the conduct ot Philip and Alexander compara lively amiable. PHOCION. 491 tfgonus. Those who killed that prince, and reignec in his stead, were so oppressive and tyrannical that a Phrygian peasant, who was digging the ground, being asked what he was seeking, said with a sigh, "I am seeking for Antigonus." Many of the Athenians expressed equal concern, now when they remembered the great and generous turn of mind in those kings, and how easily their anger was appeased: whereas Antipater, who en- deavored to conceal his power under the mask of a private man, a mean habit, and a plain diet, was infinitely more rigorous to those under his command; and in fact, an oppressor and a tyrant. Yet, at the request of Phocion, he recalled many persons from exile: and to such as lie did not choose to restore to their own country, granted a commodious situation; for, in- stead of being forced to reside, like other exiles be- yond the Ceraunian mountains, and the promon- tory of Tajnarus, he suffered them to remain in Greece, and settle in Peloponnesus. Of this num- ber was Agnonides, the informer. In some other instances, he governed with equity. He directed the police of Athens in a just and candid manner; raising the modest and the good to the principal employments; and excluding the uneasy and the seditious from all offices; so that having no opportunity to excite troubles, the spirit of faction died away: and he taught them, by little and little to love the country, and apply themselves to agriculture. Observing one day, that Xenocrates paid a tax as a stranger, he offer ed to make him a present of his freedom; but he refused it, and assigned this reason: "I will never be a member of that government, to prevent the establishment of which I acted in a public character." Menyllus was pleased to offer Phocion a con eiderable sum of money. But he said, " Neither is Menyllus a greater man than Alexander, nor have I greater reason to receive a present now, than I had then." The governor pressed him to take it at least for his son Phocus; but he answered, " If Phocus becomes sober, his father's estate will be sufficient for him; and if he con- tinues dissolute, nothing will be so." He gave Antipater a more severe answer, when he wanted him to do something inconsistent with his probity. " Antipater," said he, " cannot have me both for a friend and a flatterer-J' And Antipater himself used to say, " I have two friends in Athens, Pho- cion and Dernades: it is impossible either to per- luade the one to anything or to satisfy the other." Indeed, Phocion had his poverty to show as a proof of his virtue; for, though he so often com- manded the Athenian armies, and was honored with the friendship of so many kings, he grew old in indigence; whereas Demades paraded with his wealth, even in instances that were con- trary to law: for there was a law at Athens that no foreigner should appear in the choruses upon the stage, under the penalty of a thousand drachmas, to be paid by the person who gave the entertain- ment. Yet Demades, in his exhibition, pro- duced none but foreigners; and he paid the thou- sand drachmas fine for each, though their num- ber was a hundred. And when his son Demea was married, he said, " When I married your mo- ther, the next neighbor hardly knew it; but kings and princes contribute to the expense of your nuptials." Tha Athenians were continually importuning Phocion to persuade Antipater to withdraw the garrison; but whether it was that he despaired of success, or rather because he perceived that the people were more sober and submissive to govern- ment, under the fear of that rod, he always de- clined the commission. The only thing that he asked and obtained of Antipater was, that the money which the Athenians were to pay for the charges of the war, should not be insisted on im- mediately, but a longer term granted The Athe- nians, finding that Phocion would not meddle with the affair of the garrison, applied to Demades, who readily undertook it. In consequence of this, he and his son took a journey to Macedonia. It should seem, his evil genius led him thither; for he arrived just at the time when Antipater was in his last illness; and when Cassander, now absolute master of everything, had intercepted a letter written by Demades to Antigonus in Asia, in- viting him to come over and seize Greece and Ma- cedonia, " which," he said, "hung only upon an old rotten stalk;" so he contemptuously called An- tipater. Cassander no sooner saw him than he ordered him to be arrested; and first he killed hia son before his eyes, and so near, that the blood spouted upon him, and filled his bosom; then, after having reproached him with his ingratitude and perfidiousness, he slew him likewise. Antipater, a little before his death, had appointed Polyperchon general, and given Cassander the com- mand of a thousand men. But Cassander, far from being satisfied with such an appointment, hastened to seize the supreme power, and imme- diately sent Nicanor to take the command of the garrison from Menyllus, and to secure Munychia before the news of his father's death got abroad. This scheme was carried into execution; and, a few days after, the Athenians being informed of the death of Antipater, accused Phocion of being privy to that event, and concealing it out of friend- ship to Nicanor. Phocion, however, gave himself no pain about it; on the contrary, he conversed familiarly with Nicanor; and, by his assiduities, not only rendered hirn kind and obliging to the Athenians, but inspired him with an ambition to distinguish himself by exhibiting games and shows to the people. Meantime Polyperchon, to whom the care of the king's person was committed,* in order to countermine Cassander, wrote letters to the Athe- nians, importing, " That the king restored them their ancient form of government;" according to which, all the people had a right to public em- ployments. This wasasnare he laid for Phoeion. For, being desirous of making himself master of Athens (as soon appeared from his actions), he was sensible that he could not effect anything while Phocion was in the way He saw, too, that Iris expulsion would be no difficult task, when all who had been excluded from a share in the ad- min'stration were restored; and the orators and public informers were once more masters of the tribunals. As these letters raised great commotions among ;he people, Nicanor was desired to speak f to them on that subject in the Piraeus; and, for that urpose entered their assembly, trusting his per- son with Phocion. Dercyllus, who commanded r or the king in the adjacent country, laid a scheme o seize him; but Nicanor getting timely informa- ion of his design, guarded against it, and soon showed that he would wreak his vengeance on the city. Phocion then was blamed for letting him go when he had him in his hands; but he answered, He could confide in Nicanor's promises, and saw no reason to suspect him of any ill design." * The son of Alexander, who was yet very younjj. t Nicanor knew that Polyperchon's proposal to restore he democracy was merely a snare, and he wanted tomak* the Athenians sensible oi" it. 492 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. " However," said he, " be the issue what it may, I had rather be found suffering than doing what is unjust." This answer of his, if we examine it with respect to himself only, will appear to be entirely the result of fortitude and honor; but, when we con- sider that he hazarded the safety of his country, and, what is more, that he was general and first magistrate, I know not whether he did not violate a stronger and more respectable obligation. It is in vain to allege that Phocion was afraid of involv- ing Athens in a war; and for that reason would not seize the person of Nicanor; and that he only urged the obligations of justice and good faith, that Nicanor, by a grateful sense of such beha- vior, might be prevailed upon to be quiet, and think of no injurious attempt against the Athe- nians. For the truth is, he had such confidence in Nicanor, that when he had accounts brought him from several hands of his designs upon the Piraeus, of his ordering a body of mercenaries to Salamis, and of his bribing some of the inhabitants of the Piraeus, he would give no credit to any of those things. Nay, when Philomedes, of the borough of Larnpra, got an edict made, that all the Athenians should take up arms, and obey the orders of Phocion, he took no care to act in pur- suance of it, until Nicanor had brought his troops out of Munychia, and carried his trenches round the Piraeus. Then Phocion would have led the Athenians against him; but by this time, they were become mutinous, and looked upon him with contempt. At tuis juncture arrived Alexander, the son of Polyperchon, with an army, under pretense of assisting the city against Nicanor; but, in reality, to avail himself of its fatal divisions, and to seize it, if possible, for himself. For the exiles who entered the tovvu with him, the foreigners, and such citizens as had been stigmatized as infamous, with other mean people, resorted to him, and altogether made up a strange disorderly assembly, by whose suffrages the command was taken from Phocion, and other generals appointed. Had not Alexander been seen alone near the walls in con- ference with Nicanor, and by repeated interviews, given the Athenians cause of suspicion, the city could not have escaped the danger it was in. Im- mediately the orator Agnonides singled out Pho- cion, and accused him of treason; which so much alarmed Callimedou and Pericles,* that they fled out of the city. Phocion, with such of his friends as did not forsake him, repaired to Polyperchon. Solou of Plat, and Dinarchus of Corinth, who passed for the friends and confidants of Poly- perchon, out of regard to Phocion, desired to be of the party. But Dinarchus falling ill by the way, they were obliged to stop many days at Elatea. In the meantime, Archestratus proposed a decree, and Agnonides got it passed, that depu- ties should be sent to Polyperchon, with an accu- sation against Phocion. The two parties came up to Polyperchon at the same time, as he was upon his march with the king.t "ear Pharuges, a town of Phocis, situated at the foot of Mount Acroriam, now called Galate. There Polyperchon placed the king under a golden canopy, and his friends on each side of him; and, before he proceeded to any other business, gave * Pericles here looks like an erroneous reading After- ward wo find, not Pericles but Ckarcles, mentioned alon^ with Callimedon. Charicles was Phocion's son-in-law. t This was Aridicus, the natural son of Philip. After some of Alexander's generals had raised him to the throne for their own purposes, he took the name of Philip, and reifn- ed si* years and a few months. orders that Dinarchus should be put to the torture, and afterward dispatched. This done, he gave the Athenians audience. But, as they filled the place with noise and tumult, interrupting each other with mutual accusations to the council, Agnonides pressed forward and said, " Put us all in one cage, and send us back to Athens, to give account of our conduct there." The king laughed at the proposal; but the Macedonians who attended on that occasion, and the strangers who were drawn thither by curiosity, were desirous of hearing the causa; and therefore made signs to the deputies to argue the matter there. However, it was far from being conducted with impartiality. Poiyperchon often interrupted Phocion, who at last was so provoked, that he struck his staff upon the ground, and would speak no more. Hegemon said, Poly- perchon himself, could bear witness to his affec- tionate regard for the people; and that general answered, " Do you come here to slander me before the king?" Upon this the king started up, and was going to run Hegemon through with his spear; but Polyperchon prevented him; and the council broke up immediately. The guards then surrounded Phocion and his party, except a few, who, being at some distance, muffled themselves up, and fled. Clitus carried the prisoners to Athens, under color of having them tried there, but, in reality, only to have them put to death, as persons already condemned. The manner of conducting the thing made it a more melancholy scene. The prisoners were carried in carts through the Cerarnicus to the theate:, where Clitus shut them up until the Arc/tons nad as- sembled the people. From this assembly neither slaves, nor foreigners, nor persons stigmatized aa infamous, were excluded; the tribunal and the theater were open to all. Then the king's letter was read; the purport of which was "That he had found the prisoners guilty of treason; but that he left it to the Athenians, as freemen, who were to be governed by their own laws, to pass sentence upon them." At the same time Clitus presented them to the people. The best of the citizens, when they saw Phocion, appeared greatly dejected, and, covering their faces with their mantles, began to weep. One, however, had the courage to say, "Since the king leaves the determination of so important a matter to the people, it would be proper to com- mand all slaves and strangers to depart." But the populace, instead of agreeing to that motion, cried out, " It would be much more proper to stone all the favorers of oligarchy, all the enemies of the people." After which, no one attempted to offer anything in behalf of Phocion. It was with much difficulty that he obtained permission to speak. At last, silence being made, he said, " Do you design to take away my life justly or unjustly?" Some of them answering, " Justly;" he said, " How can you know whether it will be justly, if you do not hear me first?" As he did not find them inclinable in the least to bear him, he advanced some paces forward, and said, " Citi- zens of Athens, I acknowledge I have done you injustice; and for my faults in the administration, adjudge myself guilty of death;* but why will you put these men to death, who have never injured you?" The populace made answer, "Because they are friends to you." Upon which he drew back, and resigned himself quietly to his fate. Agnonides then read the decree he had prepared; It was the custom for the person accused to lay some penalty on himself. Phocion chooses the highest, thinking it might be a means to reconcile the Athenians to ins friends; but it had not that effect. PHOCION. 493 according to which, the people were to declare by their suffrages whether the prisoners appeared to be guilty or not; and if they appeared so, they were to suffer death. When the decree was read, some called for an additional clause for putting Phocion to the torture before execution; and in- sisted, that the rack and its managers should be sent for immediately. But Agnonides, observing that Clitus was displeased at that proposal, and looking' upon it himself as a barbarous and detest- able thing, said, " When we take that villain Cal- limedon, let us put him to the torture; but, indeed, my fellow-citizens, I cannot consent that Phocion should have such hard measure." Upon this, one of the better disposed Athenians cried out, " Thou art certainly light; for if we torture Phocion, what must we do to thee?" There was, however, hardly one negative when the sentence of death was proposed; all the people gave their voices standing; and -^onie of them even crowned them- selves with flowers, as if it had been a matter of festivity. With Phocion, there were Nicocles, Thudippus, Hegemon, and Pythocles. As for Demetrius the Phalerean, Callimedon, Charicles, and some others, who were absent, the same sen- tence was passed upon them. After the asoembly was dismissed, the convicts were sent to prison. The embraces of their friends and relations melted them into tears; and they all went on bewailing their fate, except Phocion. His countenance was the same as when the peo- ple sent him out to command their armies; and the beholders could not but admire his invincible firmness and magnanimity. Some of his enemies, indeed, reviled him as he went along; and one of them even spit in his face: upon which, he turned to the magistrates, and said, " Will nobody correct this fellow's rudeness?" Thudippus, when he saw the executioner pounding the hemlock, began to lament what hard fortune it was for him to suffer unjustly on Phocion's account. "What then!" said the venerable sage, "dost thou not think it an honor to die with Phocion?" One of his friends asking him whether he had any com- mands to his son; "Yes," said he, " by all means, tell him from me, to forget the ill treatment I have had from the Athenians." And when Nico- cles, the most faithful of his friends, begged that he would let him drink the poison before him; " This," said he, "Nicocles, is a hard request; and the thing must give me great uneasiness; but since I have obliged you in every instance through life, I will do the same in this." When they came all to drink, the quantity proved not sufficient; and the executioner refused to prepare more, except he had twelve drachmas paid him, which was the price of a full draught. As this occasioned a troublesome delay, Phocion called one of his friends, and said, " Since one cannot die on free cost at Athens, give the man his money." This execution was on the nine- teenth day of April,* when there was a procession of horsemen in honor of Jupiter. As the caval- cade passed by, some took off their chaplets from their heads; others shed tears, as they looked at the prison doors; all who had not hearts entirely savage, or were not corrupted by rage and envy, looked upon it as a most impious thing, not to have reprieved them at least for that day, and so to have kept the city unpolluted on the festival. However, the enemies of Phocion, as if some- thing had been wanting to their triumph, got an order that his body should not be suffered to re- main within the bounds of Attica; nor that, any Athenian should furnish fire for the funeral pile. Therefore no friend durst touch it; but one Cono- pion, who lived by such services, for a sum of money> carried the corpse out of the territories of Eleusis, and got fire for the burning of it in those of Megara. A woman of Megara, who happened to assist at the ceremony with her maid-servants, raised a cenotaph upon the spot, and performed the customary libations. The bones she gathered up carefully into her lap, carried them by night to her own house, and interred them under the hearth. At the same time she thus addressed the domestic gods: " Ye guardians of this place, to you I commit the remains of this good man. Do you restore them to the sepulcher of his ancestors, when the Athenians shall once more listen to the dictates of wisdom." The time was not long before the situation of their affairs taught them how vigilant a magistrate, and how excellent a guardian of the virtues of justice and sobriety, they had lost. The people erected his statue in brass, and buried his remains at the public expense. Agnonides, his principal accuser, they put to death, in consequence of a decree for that purpose. Epicurus and Demo- I philus, the other two, fled from Athens; but after- j ward fell into the hands of Phocion's son, who J punished them as they deserved. This son of his was, in other respects, a worthless man. He was in love with a girl who was in a state of servitude, and belonged to a trader in such matters; and hap- pening one day to hear Theodorus the atheist maintain this argument in the Lyceum, "That if it is no shame to ransom a friend, it is no shame to redeem a mistress," the discourse was so flat- tering to his passion, that he went immediately and released his female friend.f The proceedings against Phocion put the Greeks in mind of those against Socrates. The treatment of both was equally unjust, and the calamities thence entailed upon Athens were perfectly similar, f * Munychion. t it appears, from the ancient comedy, that it was no un- common thing for the young men of Athens to take their mistresses out of such shops; and, after they had released them from servitude, to marry them. % Socrates was put to death eighty-two years before. 494 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. CATO THE YOUNGEK. THE family of Cato had its first luster and dis- tinction from his great grandfather, Cato the Cen- sor,* a man whose virtue, as we have observed in his Life, ranked him with persons of the greatest reputation and authority in Rome. The Utican Cato. of whom we are now speaking, was left an orphan, together with his brother Caspio, and his sister Porcia. He had also another sister called Servilia, but she was only sister by the mother's i side.f The orphans were brought up in the house of Livius Drusus, their mother's brother, who at that time had great influence in the administra- tion; to which he was entitled by his eloquence, his wisdom, and dignity of mind: excellencies that put him on an equality with the best of the Ro- mans. Cato, we are told, from his infancy discovered in his voice, his look, and his very diversions, a firmness and solidity, which neither passion nor anything else could move. He pursued every ob- ject he had in view with a vigor far above his years, and a resolution that nothing could resist. Those who were inclined to flatter were sure to meet with a severe repulse, and to those who attempted to intimidate him, he was still more untractable. Scarce anything could make him laugh, and it was but rarely that his countenance was softened to a smile. He was not quickly or easily moved to anger; but it was difficult to appease his resentment, when once excited. His apprehension was slow, and his learning came with difficulty; but what he had once learn- ed he long retained. It is, indeed, a common case for persons of quick parts to have weak memories, but what is gained with labor and application is always retained the longest: for every hard-gained acquisition of science is a kind of annealing upon the mind. The inflexibility of his disposition seems also to have retarded his progress in learn- ing; for to learn is to submit to a new impression; and those submit the most easily who have the least power of resistance. Thus young men are more persuasible than the old, and the sick than such as are well; and, in general, assent is most easily gained from those who are least able to find doubts and difficulties. Yet Cato is said to have been very obedient to his preceptor, and to have done whatever he was commanded; only he would always inquire the reason, and ask why such a thing was enjoined. Indeed, his preceptor Sarpe don (for that was his name) was a man of engag ing manners, who chose rather to govern by yea son than by violence. While Cato was yet a child, the Italian allies de- manded to be admitted citizens of Rome. Popediu? Silo, a man of great name as a soldier, and power- ful among his people, had a friendship with Drusus, and lodged a long time in his house dur- * Cato the Censor, at a ve'v late period of life, married Salonia, daughter of his own steward. There was a family however, from the second match, which flourished when that which came from the first was extinct. t Servilia was not his only sister hy the mother's side, there were three of them; one, the mother of Brutus, who killed Caesar: another, married to Lucullus; and a third to Jnnius Silanus. Capio, too, was his brother by the mother's tide. ing this application. As he was familiar with th children, he said to them one day, " Come, my good children, desire your uncle to assist us in our solicitation for the freedom." Caapio smiled, and readily gave his promise; but Cato made no answer. And as he was observed to look with a fixed and unkind eye upon the strangers, Popedius continued. "And you, my little man, what do you say? Will not you give your guests your interest with your uncle, as well as your brother?" Cato still refusing to answer, and appearing by his silence and his looks inclined to deny the request, Popedius took him to the window and threatened, f he would not promise, to throw him out. This he did in a harsh tone, and at the same time gave him several shakes, as> if he was going to let him fall. But as the child bore this a long time without any marks of concern or fear, Popediug set him down, and said softly to his friends, " This child is the glory of Italy. *I verily believe, if he were a man, that we should not get one vote among the people." Another time, when a relation invited young Cato, with other children, to celebrate his birth- day, most of the children went to play together in a corner of the house. Their play was to mirnic a court of justice,* where some were accused in form, and afterward carried to prison. One of them, a beautiful boy, being condemned, and shut up by a bigger boy, who acted as officer, in one of '.he apartments, called out to Cato; who, as soon as he understood what the matter was, ran to the door, and, pushing away those who stood there as guards and attempted to oppose him, carried off the child, and went home in great anger; most of the children marching off with him. These things gained him great reputation, of which the following is an extraordinary instance: when Sylla chose to exhibit a tournament of boys, which goes by the name of Troy^ and is con- sidered as a sacred exhibition, he selected two bands of young gentlemen, and assigned them two captains, one of which they readily accepted, on account of his being the son of Metella, the wife of Sylla; but the other, named Sextus, though he was nephew to Pompey the Great, they absolutely rejected, and would not go out to exercise under him. Sylla then asking them, " Whom they would have?" they unanimously cried "Cato;" and Sextus himself readily yielded the honor to him, as a boy of superior parts. The friendship which had subsisted between Sylla and the father of Cato, induced him some- times to send for the young man and his brother Children's plays are often taken from what is most iliartothem. In other countrii formed upon trifling subjects; but th familiar to them. In other countries, they are commonly bjects; but the Roman children acted trials in the courts of justice, the command of armies, triumphal processions, and, in later times, the stnte of emperors. Suetonius tells us, that Nero commanded hi son-in-law, Rusinus Crispinus, the son of Popsa, a child, to be thrown into the sea, because he was said to delight in plays of the last mentioned kind. t The invention of this game is generally ascribed to As- canius. It was celebrated in the public circus, by compa nies of boys, who were fnrnished with arms suitable to their strength. They were taken, for the most part, out of tb noblest families in Rome. CATO THE YOUNGER. 495 './sepio, and to talk familiarly with them, a favor, which, by reason of his dignity, he conferred on rery few. Sarpedon thinking such an intercourse a, great advantage to his scholar, both in point of honor and safety, often took Cato to pay his respects to the dictator. Sylla's house at that time looked like nothing but a place of execution; such were the numbers of people tortured and pnt to death there. Cato, who was now in his four- teenth year, seeing the heads of many illustrious personages carried out, and observing that the by- standers sighed in secret at these scenes of blood, asked his preceptor, "Why somebody did not kill that man?" "Because," said he, " they fear him more than they hate him." "Why then," said Cato, "do not you give me a sword, that I may kill him, and deliver my country from slavery?" When Sarpedon heard such a speech from the boy, and saw with what a stern and angry look he uttered it, he was greatly alarmed, and watched him narrowly afterward, to prevent his attempt- ing some rash action. When he was but a child, he was asked one day, "Whom he loved most?" and he answered, ** His brother." The person who put the question, then asked him "Whom he loved next?" and again he said "His brother." "Whom in the third place?" and still it was "His brother:" and BO on until he put no more questions to him about it. This affection increased with his years, inso- much that when he was twenty years old, if he supped, if he went out into the country, if he ap- peared in the forum, Crepio must be with him. But he would not make use of perfumes as Ctepio did: indeed, the whole course of his life was strict and austere: so that when Caspio was sometimes commended for his temperance and sobriety, he would say, " I may have some claim to these virtues, when compared with other men ; but when I compare myself with Cato, I seem a mere Sippius." Sippius was the name of a person re- markably effeminate and luxurious. After Cato had taken upon him the priesthood of Apollo, he changed his dwelling, and took his share of the paternal estate, which amounted to a hundred and twenty talents. But though his for- tune was so considerable, his manner of living was more frugal and simple than ever. He form- ed a particular connection with Antipaterof Tyre, the Stoic philosopher: and the knowledge he was the most studious of acquiring, was the moral and the political. He was carried to every virtue with an impulse like inspiration; but his greatest attach- ment was to justice, and justice of that severe and inflexible kind which is not to be wrought upon by favor or compassion.* He cultivated also that eloquence which is fit for popular assemblies; for as in a great city there should be an extraordinary supply lor war, so in the political philosophy he thought there should be a provision for trouble- some times. Yet he did not declaim before com- pany, nor go to hear the exercises of other young men. And when one of his friends said, " Cato, the world finds fault with your silence:" he an- swered, " No matter, so long as it does not find fault with my life. I shall begin to speak when I have things to say that deserve to be known." In the public hall called the Porcian, which was built by old Cato in his censorship, the tri- bunes of the people used to hold their court. And, as there was a pillar which incommoded * Cicero, in his oration for Murena, gives us a fine satire open those maxims of the Stoics which Cato made the rule of his life, and which, as he observes, were only fit to flourish within the portico. their benches, they resolved either to remove it to a distance, or to take it entirely away. This was the first tiling that drew Cato to the rostra, and even then it was against his inclination. How- ever, he opposed the design effectually, and gave an admirable specimen, both of his eloquence and spirit. For there was nothing of youthful sallies or finical affectation in his oratory; all was rough, sensible, and strong. Nevertheless, amidst tlie short and solid turn of the sentences there was a grace that engaged the ear; and with the gravity which might be expected from his manners, there was something of humor and raillery intermixed, which had an agreeable effect. His voice was loud enough to be heard by such a multitude of people, and his strength was such, that he often spoke a whole day without being tired. After he had gained his cause, he returned to his former studies and silence. To strengthen his constitution, he used the most laborious exer- cise. He accustomed himself to go bareheaded in the hottest and coldest weather, and traveled on foot at all seasons of the year. His friends, who traveled with him, made use of horses, and he joined sometimes one, sometimes another, for conversation, as he went along. In time of sick- ness, his patience and abstinence were extraordi- nary. If he happened to have a fever, he spent the whole day alone, suffering no person to ap- proach him until he found a sensible change for the better. At entertainments they threw the dice for the choice of the messes; and if Cato lost the first choice, his friends used to offer it to him; but he always refused it; " Venus,"* said he, " forbids." At first he used to rise from table after having drank once ; but in process of time he came to love drinking, and would sometimes spend the whole night over the bottle. His friends excused him by saying, that the business of the state employed him all day, and left him no time for conversa- tion, and therefore he spent his evenings in dis- course with the philosophers." And, when one Memrnius said in company, " That Cato spent whole nights in drinking;" Cicero retorted, " But you cannot say that he spends whole days at play." Cato saw that a great reformation was wanting in the manners and customs of his country, and for that reason he determined to go contrary to the corrupt fashions wtiich then obtained. Ha observed (for instance) that the richest and most lively purple was the thing most worn, and there- fore he went in black. Nay, he often appeared in public after dinner bare-footed and without his gown. Not that he affected to be talked of for that singularity; but he did it by way of learning to be ashamed of nothing but what was really shameful, and not to regard what depended only on the estimation of the world. A great estate falling to him by the death of a cousin-german of the same name, he turned it into money, to the amount of a hundred talents; and when any of his friends wanted to borrow a sum, he lent it them without interest. If he could not otherwise supply them, he suffered even his own land and slaves to be mortgaged for them to the treasury. He knew no woman before his marriage; and when he thought himself of a proper age to enter into that state, he set a treaty on foot witli Lepi- da, who had before been contracted to Metellus Scipio, but, upon Scipio's breaking the engage- * The most favorable cast upon the dice was called F'e**t. Horace alludes to it, Ode vii. lib. 2. 496 PLUTARCH'S LIVES ment, was then at liberty. However, before the marriage could take place, Scipio repented; and by the assiduity of his management and address, succeeded with the lady' Provoked at this ill treatment, Cato was desirous to go to law for re- dress; anil, as his friends overruled him in that respect, youthful resentment put him upon writing some iambics against Scipio, which had ail the keenness of Archilochus, without his obscenity and scurrility. After tiiis, he married Atilia the daughter of Soranus, who was the first, but not the only woman he ever knew. In this respect Lselius, the friend of Scipio African us, was happier than he;* for in the course of a long life he had only one wife, and no intercourse with any other woman. In the servile wnrf (I mean that with Sparta- cus) Gellius was general; and Cato served in it as a volunteer, for the sake of his brother Crepio, who was tribune: but he could not distinguish his vivacity and courage as he wished, because the war was ill conducted. However, amidst the effe- minacy and luxury which then prevailed in the army, he paid so much regard to discipline, and, when occasion served, behaved with so much spirit and valor as well as coolness and capacity, that he appeared not in the least inferior to Cato the Censor. Gellius made him an offer of the best military rewards and honors; but he would not accept or allow of them; " For," said lie, ' I have done nothing that deserves such notice." These things made him pass for a man of a strange and singular turn. Beside, when a law was made, that no man who solicited any office should take nomenclalors with him, he was the only one that obeyed it; for when he applied for a tribune's commission in the army, he had pre- viously made himself master of the names of all the citizens. Yet for this he was envied, even by those who praised him. The more they consider- ed the excellence of his conduct, the more pain it gave them to think how hard it was to imitate. With a tribune's commission he was sent into Macedonia, where Rubrius the prffitor command- ed. His wife, upon his departure, was in great distress, and we are told that Munatius, a friend of Cato's, in order to comfort her, said, "Take courage, Atilia; I will take care of your hus- band." " By all means," answered Cato. At the end of the first day's march, after they had supped, he said, " Come, Munatius, that you may the better perform your promise to Atilia, you shall not leave me either day or night." In con- sequence of which, he ordered two beds in his own tent, and made a pleasant improvement upon the matter; for, as Munatius always slept by him, it was not he that took care of Cato, but Cato that took care of him. Cato had with him fifteen slaves, two freedmen, and four of his friends. These rode on horse- back, and he always went on foot; yet he kept up with them and conversed with them by turns. When he joined the army, which consisted of several legions, Rubrius gave him the command of one. In this post he thought it nothing great or extraordinary to be distinguished \fy his own virtue only; it was his ambition to make all the troops that were under his care like himself. With this view he lessened nothing of that autho- rity which might inspire fear, but he called in * riutarch seem? tj us to have spoken so feelingly of the happiness of the conjugal connection, long continued with one alrbctionate wife, from his own experience. t jSeventy-one years be fore the Christian era. the support of reason to its assistance. By in- struction and persuasion, as well as by rewards and punishments, he formed them so well, that it was hard to say whether his troops were mor& peaceable or warlike, more valiant, or more just They were dreadful to their enemies, and cour- teous to their allies; afraid to do dishonorable things, and ambitious of honest praise. Hence, though honor and fame were not Cato's objects, they flowed in upon him; he was held in universal esteem, and had entirely the hearts of his soldiers. For whatever he commanded others 1 to do, he was the first to do himself. In his dress, his manner of living, and marching, he resembled the private soldier more than the officer; and at the same time, in virtue, in dignity of mind, and strength of eloquence, he far exceeded all that had the name of generals. By these means he insensibly gained the affections of his troops* And, indeed, virtue does not attract imitation, except the person who gives the pattern is beloved as well as esteemed. Those who praise good men without loving them, only pay a respect to their name, but do not sincerely admire their virtue, nor have any inclination to follow their example. At that time there lived at Pergamus a stoic philosopher, named Athenodorus, and surnamed Cordylio, in great reputation for his knowledge. He was now grown old, and had long resisted the applications of princes and other great men, who wanted to draw him to their courts, and offered him their friendship and very considerable ap- pointments. Cato thence concluded that it would be in vain 1o write, or send any messenger to him; and, as the laws gave him leave of absence for two months, he sailed to Asia, and applied to him in person, in confidence that his accomplish- ments would carry his point with him. Accor- dingly, by his arguments and the charms of his conversation, he drew him from his purpose, and brought him with him to the camp; as happy and as proud of this success as if he had made a more valuable capture, or performed a more glorious exploit, than those of Pompey and Lucullus, who were then subduing the provinces and kingdoms of the east. While he was with the army in Macedonia, he had notice by letter that his brother Ca3pio was fallen sick at jEnus in Thrace. The sea was extremely rough, and no large vessel to be had He ventured, however, to sail from Thessalonica in a small passage-boat, with two friends and three servants, and having very narrowly escaped drowning, arrived at ^Enus just after Ccepio ex- pired. On this occasion Cato showed the sensi- bility of a brother, rather than the fortitude of a philosopher. He wept, he groaned, he embraced the dead body; and, beside these and other tokens of the greatest sorrow, he spent vast sums upon his funeral. The spices and rich robes that were burned with him were very expensive, and he erected a monument for him of Thasian marble in the forum at ^Enus, which cost no less than eight talents. Some condemned these things as little agree able to the modesty and simplicity which Cato professed in general: but they did not perceive, that with all his firmness and inflexibility to the solicitations of pleasure, of terror, and importu- nity, he had great tenderness and sensibility in his nature. Many cities and princes sent pre- sents of great value, to do honor to the obsequies, but he would not accept anything in money. AU that lie would receive was spices and stuffs, and those too only on condition of paying for them. He was left co-heir with Colo's daughter, to CATO THE YOUNGER. his estate: but when they came to divide it, he would not charge any part of the funeral expenses to her account. Yet, though he acted so honor- ably in that affair, and continued in the same npright path, there was one* who scrupled not to write, that he passed his brother's ashes through a sieve, in search of the gold that might be melted down. Surely that writer thought himself above being called to account for his pen, as well as for his sword! Upon the expiration of his commission, Cato was honored al his departure, not only with the common good wishes for his health and praises of hi conduct, but with tears and the most affectionate embraces; the soldiers spread their garments in his way, and kissed his hand: instances of esteem which few generals met with from the Romans in those times. But before he returned to Rome, to apply for a share in the administration, he resolved to visit Asia, and see with his own eyes the manners, customs, and strength of every province. At the same time he was willing to oblige Deiotarus king of Galatia, who, on account of the engagement ef hospitality that he had entered into with his father, had given him a very pressing invitation. His manner of traveling was this. Early in the morning he sent his baker and his cook to the place where he intended to lodge the next night. These entered the town in a very modest and civil manner, and if they found there no friend or acquaintance of Cato or his family, they took tip lodgings for him, and prepared his supper, at au inn, without giving any one the least trouble, if there happened to be no inn, they applied to the magistrates for quarters, and were always satisfied with those assigned them. Very often they were not believed to be Cato's servants, but entirely disregarded, because they came not to the magistrates in a clamorous and threatening manner; insomuch that their master arrived before they could procure lodgings. It was worse still when Cato himself made his appearance, for the townsmen seeing him sit down on the luggage without speaking a word, took him for a man of a mean and dastardly spirit. Sometimes, how- ever, he would send for the magistrates, and say, " Wretches, why do you not learn a proper hospi- tality? You will not find all that apply to you Catos. Do not then by your ill treatment give those occasion to exert their authority, who only want a pretense to take from you by violence what you give with so much reluctance." In Syria, we are told, he met with a humorous adventure. When he came to Antioch, he saw a number of people ranged in good order without the gates. On one side the way stood the young men in their mantles, and on the other the boys in their best attire. Some wore white robes, and had crowns on their heads; these were the priests and the magistrates. Cato imagining that this magnificent reception was intended to do him honor, began to be angry with his servants, who were sent before, for not preventing such a com- pliment. Nevertheless, he desired his friends to alight, aud walked with them toward these Antio- ehians. When they were near enough to be spoken to, the master of the ceremonies, an elder- ly man, with a staff and a crown in his hand, addressed himself first to Cato, and without so much as saluting him, asked " How far Demetrius was behind; and when he might be expected." Demetrius was Pompey's freedman; and, as the pyes of all the world were then fixed upon Pom- Julius Csesar, in his Anticato. 32 407 sey, they paid more respect to this favorite f his ;han he had any right to claim. Cato's friends were seized with such a fit of laughter that they could not recover themselves as they passed through the crowd. Cato himself, in some confu- sion, cried out, "Alas! poor city," and said not a word more. Afterward, however, he used always to laugh when he told the story. But Pompey took care to prevent the people of Asia from making any more mistakes of this kind for want of knowing Cato. For Cato, when he came to Ephesus, going to pay his respects to Pompey, as his superior in point of age and dig- nity, and as the commander of such great armies; Pompey, seeing him at some distance, did not wait to receive him sitting, but rose up to meet him, and gave him his hand with great cordiality. He said much, too, in commendation of his virtue while he was present, and spoke more freely in his praise when he was gone. Every one, after this, paid great attention to Cato, and he was admired for what before had exposed him to contempt: for they could now see that his sedate and subdued conduct was the effect of his greatness of mind. Beside, it was visible that Pompey's behavior to him was the consequence rather of respect than love: and that, though he expressed his admiration of him when present, he was glad when he was gone. For the other young Romans that came to see him, he pressed much to stay and spend some time with him. To Cato he gave no such invita- tion; but, as if he thought himself under some restraint in his proceedings while he stayed, readi- ly dismissed him. However, among all the Ro- mans that returned to Rome, to Cato only he re- commended his wife and children, who indeed were his relations. His fame now going before him, the cities la his way strove which should do him most honor, by invitations, entertainments, and every other mark of regard. On these occasions, Cato used to de- sire his friends to look well to him, lest he should make good the saying of Curio. Curio, who was one of his particular friends and companions, but disapproved his austerity, asked him one day, "Whether he was inclined to visit Asia when his time of service was expired?" Cato answered, "Yes, by all means." Upon which Curio said, "It is well; you will return a little more practi- cable:" using an expressive Latin word to that purpose. Deiotarus, king of Galatia, being far advanced in years, sent for Cato, with a design to recom- mend his children, and all his family, to his pro- tection. As soon as he carne, he offered him a variety of valuable presents, and urged him strong- ly to accept them; which importunity so much displeased him, that though he came in the even- ing, he stayed only that night, and went away at the third hour the next morning. After he had gone a day's journey, he found at Pessinus a greater number of presents, with letters entreating him to receive them; "or if you will not accept them," said Deiotarus, " at least permit your friends to take them, who deserve some reward for their services, and yet cannot expect it out of your own estate." Cato, however, would give them no such permission, though he observed that some of his friends cast a longing eye that way, and were visibly chagrined. "Corruption," said he, "will never want a pretense. But you shall be sure to share with me whatever I can get with justice and honor." He therefore sent Deiotarus his presents back. When he was taking ship for Brundusium, hit friends advised him to put Csepio's remains oa 498 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. board another vessel ;* but he dec ared, "He would i sooner part with his life than with them;" and so he set sa.l. It is said, the ship he was in happened to be in great danger, though all the rest had a tolerable passage. After his return to Rome, he spent his time cither in conversation with Atheuodorus at home, or in the forum in the service of his friends. Though he was of a proper agef to offer himself for the qua3storship, he would not solicit it until he had qualified himself for that office, by study- ing all the laws relating to it, by making inquiries of such as were experienced in it; and thus gain- ing a thorough knowledge of its whole intention and process. Immediately upon his entering on it, he made a great reformation among the secre- taries and other officers of the treasury. The public papers, and the rules of court, were what they were well versed in; and as young quaestors were continually coming into the direction, who were ignorant of the laws and records, the under officers took upon them not only to instruct, but to dictate to them; and were, in fact, quaestors themselves. Cato corrected this abuse. He ap- plied himself with great vigor to the business, and nad not only the name and honor, but thoroughly understood all that belonged to that department. Consequently he made use of the secretaries only as servants, which they really were; sometimes correcting willful abuses, and sometimes the mis- takes which they made through ignorance. As the license in which they had lived had made them refractory, and they hoped to secure them- selves by flattering the other quaestors, they boldly withstood Cato. He therefore dismissed the prin- cipal of them, whom he had detected in a fraud in the division of an estate. Against another he lodged an indictment for forgery. His defense was undertaken by Lutatins Catulus, then censor; a man whose authority was not only supported by his high office, but still more by his reputation; for, in justice a;H regularity of life, he had dis- tinguished himself above all the Romans of his time. He was also a friend and favorer of Cato, on account of his upright conduct; yet he opposed him in this cause. Perceiving he had not right on his side, he had recourse to entreaties; but Cato would not suffer him to proceed in that manner; and, as he did not desist, took occasion to say, " It would be a great disgrace for you, Catulus, who are censor and inspector of our lives and manners, to be turned out of court by my lictors." Catulus gave him a look, as if he in- tended to make answer ; however, he did not speak: either through anger or shame, he went off silent, and greatly disconcerted. Nevertheless, the man was not condemned. As the number of voices against him exceeded those for him by one only, Catulus desired the assistance of Marcus Lollius, Cato's colleague, who was prevented by sickness, from attending the trial; blrt, upon his application, was brought in a litter into court, and gave the determining voice in favor of the defen- dant. Yet Cato would not restore him to his employment, or pay him his stipend; for he con- sidered the partial' suffrage of Lollius as a thing of no account. The secretaries thus humbled and subdued, he took the direction of the public papers and finances into his own hand. By these means, in a little From a superstition which commonly obtained, they imagined th;>t a dead body on board a ship would raise a torm. Plutarch, by using the word happened, just below, ihows that he did not give into that superstitious notion Ibough too apt to do those things. t Twenty-four or twenty-five years of age. time he rendered the treasury more respectable, than the senate itself; and it was commonly bought as well as said, that Cato had given the quaestorship all the dignity of the consulate. For, laving made it his business to find out all the debts of long standing due to the public, and what the public was indebted to private persons, he set- tled these affairs in such a manner that the com- nonwealth could no longer either do or suffer any njury in that respect; strictly demanding and nsisting on the payment of whatever was owing to the state; and at the same time, readily and freely satisfying all who had claims upon it. This naturally gained him reverence among the people, when they saw many obliged to pay, who hoped never to h^ve been called to account; and many receiving debts which they had given up as des- perate. His predecessors had often, through interest or persuasion, accepted false bills, and pretended orders of senate: but nothing of thai kind escaped Cato. There was one order in par- ticular, which he suspected to be forged, and though it had many witnesses to support it, he would not allow it until the consuls came and declared it upon oath. There was a number of assassins employed in the last proscription, to whom Sylla had given twelve thousand drachmas for each head they brought him. These were looked upon by all the world as the most execrable villains; yet no man had ventured to take vengeance on them. Cato, however, summoned all who had received the public money for such unjust services, and made them refund; inveighing, at the same time, with equal reason and severity against their impious and abominable deeds. These wretches, thus disgraced, and, as it were, prejudged, were afterward indicted for murder before the judges, who punished them as they deserved. All ranks of people rejoiced at these executions ; they thought they saw the tyranny rooted out with these men, and Sylla himself capitally punished in the death of his ministers. The people were also delighted with his inde- fatigable diligence; for he always came to the treasury before his colleagues, and was the last that left it. There was no assembly of the people, or meeting of the senate, which he did not attend, in order to keep a watchful eye upon all partial remissions of fines and duties, and all unreason- able grants. Thus, having cleared the exchequer of informers and all such vermin, and filled it with treasure, he showed that it is possible for a govern- ment to be rich without oppressing the subject. At first this conduct of his was very obnoxious to his colleagues, but in time it came to be agreeable; because, by refusing to give away any of the public money, or to make any partial determina- tion, he stood the rage of disappointed avarice for them all; and, to the importunity of solicitation they would answer, that they could do nothing without the consent of Cato. The last day of his office he was conducted home by almost the whole body of citizens. But, by the way, he was informed that some of the principal men in Rome, who had great influence upon Marcellus, were besieging him in the trea- sury, and pressing him to make out an order for sums which they pretended to be due tc them. Marcellus, from his childhood, was a friend of Cato's, and a good quaestor while he acted with him; but, when he acted alone, he was too much influenced by personal regards for petitioners, and by a natural inclination to oblige. Cato, there- fore, immediately turned back, and finding Mar- cellus already prevailed upon to make out the CATO THE YOUNGER. 499 order, he called for the registers, and erased it; Marcellus all the while standing by in silence. Not content with this, he took him out of the treasury, and led him to his own house. Mar- cellus, however, did not complain, either then, or afterward, but continued the same friendship and intimacy with him to the last. After the time of his quajstorship was expired, Cato kept a watchful eye upon the treasury. He hud his servants there daily minuting down the proceedings; and he spent much time himself in perusing the public accounts, from the, lime of Sylla to his own; a copy of which he had pur- chased for five talents. Whenever the senate was summoned to meet, he was the first to give his attendance, and the last to withdraw; and oftentimes, while the rest were slowly assembling, he would sit down and read, holding his gown before his book; nor would he ever be out of town when a house was called. Pompey finding that, in all his unwarrantable attempts, he must find a severe and inexorable opponent in Cato, when he had a point of that kind to carry, threw in his way either the cause of some friend to plead, or arbitration, or other business to attend to. But Cato soon perceived the snare, and rejected all the applications of his friends, declaring, that, when the senate was to sit, he would never undertake any other business. For his attention to the concerns of government was not like that of some others, guided by the views of honor or profit, nor left to chance or humor; but he thought a yood citizen ought to be as solicitous about the public, as a bee is about her Itioe. For this reason he desired his friends, and others with whom he had connections in the provinces, to give him an account of the edicts, the important decisions, and all the principal busi- ness transacted there. He made a point of it to oppose Clodius the seditious demagogue, who was always proposing some dangerous law, or some change in the con- stitution, or accusing the priests and vestals to the people. Fabia Terentia, sister to Cicero's wife, and one of the vestals, was impeached among the rest, and in danger of being condemned. But Cato defended the cause of these injured people so well, that Clodius was forced to withdraw in great confusion, and leave the city. When Cicero came to thank him for this service, he said, " You must thank your country, whose utility is the spring that guides all my actions." His reputation came to be so great that a cer- tain orator, in a cause where only one witness was produced, said to the judges, "One man's evidence is not sufficient to go by, not even if it was Cato's." It grew, indeed, into a kind of pro- verb, when people were speaking of strange and incredible things, to say, " I would not believe such a thing, though it were affirmed by Cato." A man profuse in his expenses, and in all re- spects of a worthless character, taking upon him one day to speak in the senate in praise of tem- perance and sobrietv, Amnasus rose up and said, "Who can endure to hear a man who eats and drinks like Cntssus, and builds like Lucullus, pre- tend to talk here like Cato?" Hence others, who were dissolute and abandoned in their lives, but preserved a gravity and austerity in their discourse, came by way of ridicule to be called Catos. His friends advised him to offer himself for the tribuneship; but he thought it was not yet time. He said, " He looked upon an office of such power and authority as a violent medicine, which ought not to be used except in cases of great necessity. As, at that time, he had no public business to engage him, he took his books and philosophers with him, and set out for Lucania, where he had ands, and an agreeable country retreat. By the way he met with a number of horses, carriages, and servants, which he found belonged to Metellus Nepos, who was going to Rome to apply for the tribuneship. This put him to a stand: he remain- ed some time in deep thought, and then gave his people orders to turn back. To his friends, who were surprised at this conduct, " Know ye not," said he, " that Metellus is formidable even in his stupidity? But remember, that he now follows the counsels of Pompey; that the state lies pros- trate before him; and that he will fall upon and crush it with the force of a thunderbolt. Is this then a time for the pursuit of rural amusements? Let us rescue our liberties, or die in their defense!" Upon the remonstrance of his friends, however, he proceeded to his farm; and after a short stay there, returned to the city. He arrived in the evening, and early next morning went to the forum, as candidate for the tribuneship, in opposi- tion to Metellus; for to oppose, is the nature of that office; and its power is chiefly negative: inso- much, that the dissent of a single voice is suf- ficient to annul a measure in which the whola assembly beside has concurred. Cato was at first attended only by a small num- ber of his friends; but, when his intentions were made known, he was immediately surrounded by men of honor and virtue, the rest of his acquain- tance, who gave him the strongest encouragement, and solicited him to apply for the tribuneship, not as it might imply a favor conferred on himself, but as it would be an honor and an advantage to his fellow-citizens: observing, at the same time, that though it had been frequently in his power to obtain this office without the trouble of opposi- tion; yet he now stepped forth, regardless, not only of that trouble, but even of personal danger, when the liberties of his country were at stake. Such was the zeal and eagerness of the people that pressed around him. that it was with the ut- most difficulty he made his way to the/oruwi. Being appointed tribune, with Metellus among the rest, he observed that great corruption had crept into the consular elections. On this subject he gave a severe charge to the people, which he concluded, by affirming on oath, that he would prosecute every one that should offend in that way. He took care, however, that Silanus,* who had married his sister Servilia, should be excepted. But against Mursena, who, by means of bribery, had carried the consulship at the same time with Silanus, he laid an information. By the laws of Rome, the person accused has power to set a guard upon him who lays the information, that he may have no opportunity of supporting a false accusa- tion by private machinations before his trial. When the person that was appointed Muraena's officer on this occasion, observed the liberal and candid conduct of Cato; that he sought only to support his information by fair and open evidence; he was so struck with the excellence and dignity of his character, that he would frequently wait upon him in the forum, or at his house, and, aftei inquiring whether he should proceed that day in * From this passage, it should seem that Plutarch S1J P' posed Cato to be capable of sacrificing to family connec- tions. But the fault lies rather in the historian, than in the tribune. For, is it to be supposed that the rigid virtue of Cato should descend to the most obnoxious circumstances of predilection? It is not possible to have a stronger in- stance of his integrity, than his refusing the alliance of Pompey the Great; though that refusal was impolitic, and attended with bad consequences to the state. 500 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. the business of the information, if Cato answered in the negative, he made no scruple of leaving him. When the trial came on, Cicero, who was then consul, and Muraena's advocate, by way of playing upon Cato, threw out many pleasant things against the stoics, and their paradoxical phi- losophy. This occasioned no small mirth among the judges; upon which Cato only observed with a smile, to those who stood next him. that Rome had indeed a most laughable consul. Muraena acted a very prudent part with regard to Cato; for, though acquitted of the charge he had brought against him, he nevertheless consulted him on all occasions of importance during his consulship, respected him for his sense and virtue, and made use of hiscounsels in the administration of govern- ment. For Cato, on the bench, was the most rigid dispenser of justice; though, in private so- ciety, he was affable and humane. Before he was appointed tribune in the consul- ship of Cicero, he supported the supreme magistrate in a very seasonable manner, by many excellent measures during the turbulent times of Catiline. It is well known that this man meditated nothing less than a total subversion of the Roman state; and that, by the spirited counsels and conduct of Cicero, he was obliged to fly from Rome without effecting his purpose. But Lentulus, Cethegus, and the rest of the conspirators, after reproaching Catiline for his timidity, and the feebleness of his enterprises, resolved to distinguish themselves at least more effectually. Their scheme was nothing less than to burn the city, and destroy the empire, by the revolt of the colonies and foreign wars. Upon the discovery of this conspiracy, Cicero, as we have observed in his life, called a council; and the first that spoke was Silanus. He gave it a* his opinion, that the conspirators should be punished with the utmost rigor. This opinion was adopted by the rest until it came to Ca3sar. This eloquent man, consistent with whose am- bitious principles, it was rather to encourage than to suppress any threatening innovations, urged, in his usual persuasive manner, the propriety of allowing the accused the privilege of trial; and that the conspirators should only be taken into custody. The senate, who were under apprehen- sions from the people, thought it prudent to come into this measure; and even Silanus retracted, and declared he thought of nothing more than impri- sonment, that being the most rigorous punishment a citizen of Rome could suffer. This change of sentiments in those who spoke first was followed by the rest, who all gave into milder measures. But Cato, who was of a con- trary opinion, defended that opinion with the greatest vehemence, eloquence, and energy. He re- proached Silanus for his pusillanimity in changing his resolution. He attacked Ca3sar,and charged him with a secret design of subverting the government, under the plausible appearance of mitigating speeches and a humane conduct; of intimidating the senate, by the same means, even in a case where he had to fear for himself, and wherein he might think himself happy if he could be exempt- ed from every imputation and suspicion of guilt: he, who had openly and daringly attempted to rescue from justice the enemies of the state, and shown, that so far from having any compassion for hisc%untry, when on the brink of destruction, he could even pity and plead for the wretches, the unnatural wretches, that meditated its ruin, and grieve that their punishment should prevent their design. This, it is said, is the only oration of Cato that is extant. Cicero had selected a num- ber of the swiftest writers, whom he had taught the art of abbreviating words by characters, and had placed them in different parts of the senate- house. Before his consulate, they had no short- hand writers. Cato carried his point; and it was decreed, agreeably to his opinion that the con- spirators should suffer capital punishment. As it is our intention to exhibit an accurate picture of the mind and manners of Cato, the least circumstance that may contribute to mark them should not escape our notice. While he was warmly contesting his point with Caesar, and the eyes of the whole senate were upon the disputants, it is said that a billet was brought in and deliver- ed to Csesar. Cato immediately suspected, and charged him with some traitorous design; and it was moved in the senate, that the billet should be read publicly. Caesar delivered it to Cato, who stood near him; and the latter had no sooner cast his eye upon it than he perceived it to be the hand of his own sister Servilia, who was passionately in love with Caesar, by \vnom she had been debauch- ed. He therefore threw it back to Caesar, saying, Take it, you sot," and went on with his dis- course. Cato was always unfortunate among the women. This Servilia was infamous for her commerce with Caesar; and his other sister, Ser- vilia, was in still worse repute; for, though mar- ried to Lucullus, one of the first men in Rome, by whom she also had a son, she was divorced for her insufferable irregularities. But what was most distressing to Cato was, that the conduct of hia own wife Atilia, was by no means unexception- able; and that, after having brought him two chil- dren, he was obliged to part with her. Upon his divorce from Atilia, he married Mar- tia, the daughter of Philip, a woman of good character; but this part of Cato's life, like the plots in the drama, is involved and intricate. Thraseas, upon the authority of Munatius, Cato's particular friend, who lived under the same roof with him, gives us this account of the matter. Among the friends and followers of Cato s some made a more open profession of their sentiments than others. Among these was Quintus Hor- tensius, a man of great dignity and politeness. Not contented merely with the friendship of Cato, he was desirous of a family alliance with him; and for this purpose, he scrupled not to request that his daughter Portia, who was already married to Bibulus, by whom she had two children, might be lent to him, as a fruitful soil for the purpose of propagation. The thing itself, he owned, was uncommon, but by no means unnatural or im- proper. For why should a woman in the flower of her age, either continue useless, until she is past child-bearing, or overburden her husband with too large a family? The mutual use of wo- men, he added, in virtuous' families, would not only increase a virtuous offspring, but strengthen and extend the connections of society. Moreover, if Bibulus should be unwilling wholly to give up his wife, she should be restored after she had dono him the honor of an alliance to Cato by her preg- nancy. Cato answered, that he had the greatest regard for the friendship of Hortensius, but he could not think of his application for another man's wife. Hortensius, however, would not give up the point here; but when he could not obtain Cato's daughter, he applied for his wife, saying, that she was yet a young woman, and Cato'a family already large enough. He could not pos- sibly make this request upon a supposition that Cato had no regard for his wife; for she was at that very time pregnant. Notwithstanding, the latter, when he observed the violent inclination Hortensius had to be allied to him, did not ab- CATO THE YOUNGER. 501 Bolutely refuse him; but said it was necessary to consult Martin's father, Philip, on the occasion Philip, therefore, was applied to, and his daughter was espoused to Horlensius ia the presence ano with the consent of Cato. These circumstances are not related in the proper order of time; but speaking of Cato's connection with the women, I was led to mention them. When the conspirators were executed, and Caesar, who, on account of his calumnies in the senate, was obliged to throw himself on the people, had infused a spirit of insurrection into the worst and lowest of the citizens, Cato, being apprehensive of the consequences, engaged the senate to appease the multitude by a free gift of coru. This cost twelve hundred and fifty talents a year; but it had the desired effect.* Metellus, upon entering on his office as tribune, had several seditious meetings, and published an edict, that Pompey should bring his troops into Italy, under the pretext of saving the city from the attempts of Catiline. Such was the pretense; but his real design was to give up the state into the hands of Pompey. Upon the meeting of the senate, Cato, instead of treating Metellus with his usual asperity, ex- postulated with great mildness, and had even recourse to entreaty, intimating, at the same time, that his family had ever stood in the interest of the nobility. Metellus, who imputed Cato's mild- ness to his fears, was the more insolent on that account and most audaciously asserted that he would carry his purpose into execution, whether the senate would or not. The voice, the air, the attitude of Cato, were changed in a moment; and, with all the force of eloquence, he declared, " That while he was living, Pompey should never enter armed into the city." The senate neither approved of the conduct of Cato, or of Metellus. The latter they considered as a desperate and profligate madman, who had no other aim than that of general destruction and confusion. The virtue of Cato they looked upou as a kind of enthusiasm, which would ever lead him to arm in the cause of justice and the laws. When the people came to vote for this edict, a number of aliens, gladiators, and slaves, armed by Melellus, appeared in the Jorum. He was also followed by several of the commons, who wanted to introduce Pompey, in hopes of a revolution; and his hands were strengthened by the praetorial power of Caesar. Cato, on the other hand, had the principal citizens on his side; but they were rather sharers in the injury, than auxiliaries in the removal of it. The danger to which he was exposed was now so great that his family was under the utmost concern. The greatest part of his friends and relations came to his house in the evening, and passed the night without either eat- ing or sleeping. His wife and sisters bewailed their misfortunes with tears, while he himself passed the evening with the utmost confidence and tranquillity, encouraging the rest to imitate his example. He supped and went to rest as usual: and slept soundly until he was waked by his colleague Minntius Thermus. He went to the forum, accompanied by few, but met by many, who advised him to take care of his per- son. When he saw the temple of Castor sur- * This is almost one-third more than the sum said to have been expended in the same distribution in the Life of Caesar; and even there it is incredibly large. But, what- ever might be the expense, the policy was bad; for nothing so effectually weakens the hands of government, as this method of bribing the populace, and treating them as inju- dicious avres do froward children. rounded by armed men, the steps occupied by gladiators, and Metellus himself seated on an eminence with Caesar, turning to his friends, " Which," said he, " is most contemptible, the savage disposition, or the cowardice of him who brings such an army against a man who is naKed and unarmed!" Upon this, he proceeded to the place with Thermus. Those that occupied tho steps fell back to make way for him; but would suffer no one else to pass; Munatius only, with some difficulty, he drew along with him; and, as soon as he entered, he took his seat between Csesar and Metellus, that he might, by that means, prevent their discourse. This embarrassed them not a little; and what added to their perplexity, was the countenance and approbation that Cato met with from all the honest men that were pre- sent, who, while they admired his firm and steady spirit, so strongly marked in his aspect, encour- aged him to persevere in the cause of liberty, and mutually agreed to support him. Metellus, enraged at this, proposed to read the edict. Cato put in his negative; and that having no effect, he wrested it out of his hand. Metellus then attempted to speak it from memory; but Thermus prevented him by putting his hand upon his mouth. When he found this ineffectual, and perceived that the people were gone over to the opposite parly, he ordered his armed men to make a riot, and throw the whole into confusion. Upon this the people dispersed, and Cato was left alone, exposed to a storm of sticks and stones. But Mursena, though the former had so lately an in- formation against him, would not desert him. He defended him with his gown from the danger to which he was exposed; entreated the mob to desist from their violence, and at length carried him off in his arms into the temple of Castor. When Metellus found the benches deserted, and the adversary put to the route, he imagined he had gained his point, and again very modestly proceeded to confirm the edict. The adversary, however, quickly rallied, and advanced with shouts of the greatest courage and confidence. Metellus's party, supposing that by some means, tliey had got arms, was thrown into confusion, and immediately took to flight. Upon the disper- sion of these, Cato came forward, and, by his encouragement and applause, established a consi- derable party against Metellus. The senate, too, voted that Cato should, at all events, be supported; and that an edict, so pregnant with everything that was pernicious to order and good govern- ment, and hud even a tendency to civil war, should be opposed with the utmost rigor. Metellus still maintained his resolution; but finding his frieud intimidated by the uziconquered spirit of Cato, he came suddenly into the open court, assembled the people, said everything that he thought might render Cato odious to them; and declared, that he would have nothing to do with the arbitrary principles of that man, or hia conspiracy against Pompey, whose disgrace Rome might one day have severe occasion to repent. Upon this he immediately set off for Asia to carry an account of these matters to Pompey. And Cato, by ridding the commonwealth of this troublesome tribune, and crushing, as it were, in him, the growing power of Pompey, obtained the highest reputation. But what made him still more popular was his prevailing on the senate to desist from tbeir purpose of voting Metellus infa- mous, and divesting him of the magistracy. His humanity and moderation in not insulting a van- quished enemy, were admired by the people in general ; while men of political sagacity could 602 PLUT A RCH'S LIVES. ee that he thought it prudent not to provoke Pompey too much. Soon afterward, Lucullus returned from the war, which being concluded by Pompey, gave that general, in some measure, the laurels; and being rendered obnoxious to the people, through the impeachment of Caius Memmius, who op- posed him more from a view of making his court to Pompey than any personal hatred, he was in danger of losing his triumphs. Cato, however, partly because Lucullus was allied to him by marrying his daughter Servilia, and partly be- cause he thought the proceedings unfair, opposed Memmius, and by that means exposed himself to great obloquy. But though divested of his tribu- uitial office, as of a tyrannical authority, he had full credit enough to banish Memmius from the courts and from the lists. Lucullus, therefore, naviug obtained his triumph, attached himself to Cato, as to the strongest bulwark against the power of Pompey. When that great man re- turned from the war, confident of his interest at Rome, from the magnificent reception he every- where met with, he scrupled not to send a requisi- tion to the senate, that they would defer the election of consuls until his arrival, that he might support Piso. While they were in doubt about the mat- ter, Cato, not because he was under any concern about deferring the election, but that he might intercept the hopes and attempts of Pompey, re- monstrated against the measure, and carried" it in the negative. Pompey was not a little disturbed at this; and concluding, that, if Cato were his enemy, he would be the greatest obstacle to his designs, he sent for his friend Munatius; and commissioned him to demand two of Cato's nieces in marriage ; the elder for himself, and the younger for his son. Some say that they were not Cato's nieces, but his daughters. Be that as it may, when Munatius opened his commission to Cato, in the presence of his wife and sisters, the women were not a little delighted with the splen- dor of the alliance. But Cato, without a mo- ment's hesitation, answered, "Go, Munatius; go, and tell Pompey, that Cato is not to be caught in a female snare. Tell him, at the same time, that I am sensible of the honor lie does me; and while he continues to act as he ought to do, I shall have that friendship for him which is superior to affi- nity; but I will never give hostages, against my country, to the glory of Pompey." The women, as it is natural to suppose, were chagrined: and even the friends of Cato blamed the severity of his answer. But Pompey soon after gave him an opportunity of vindicating his conduct, by open bribery in a consular election. "You see now," said Cato to the women, " what would have been the consequence of my alliance with Pompey. I should have had my share in all the aspersions that are thrown upon him." And they owned that he had acted right. However, if one ought to judge from the event, it is clear that Cato did wrong in rejecting the alliance of Pompey. By suffering it to devolve to Cresar, the united power of those two great men went near to overturn the Roman empire The commonwealth it effectually destroyed. But this would never have been the case, had no f t Cato, to whom the slighter faults of Pompey were obnoxious, suffered him, by thus strengthening his hands, to commit greater crimes. These consequences, however, were only impending at the period under our review. When Lucullus had a dispute with Pompey, con- cerning their institutions in Ponlus (for each wanted to confirm his own), as the formei was evidently injured, he had the support of Cato; while Pompey, his junior in the senate, in order to increase his popularity, proposed the Agrarian law in favor of the army. Cato opposed it, and i^ was rejected; in consequence of which Pompey attached himself to Clodius, the most violent and factious of the tribunes; and much about the same time contracted his alliance with Caesar, to which Cato, in some measure, led the way. The thing was thus. Ceesar, on his return from Spain, was at once a candidate for the consulship, and demanded a triumph. But as the laws of Rome required that those who sue for the supreme ma- gistracy should sue in person, and those who tri- umph should be without the walls; he petitioned the senate that he might be allowed to sue for the consulship by proxy. The senate, in general, agreed to oblige Cresar; and when Cato, the only one that opposed it, found this to be the case, as soon as it came to his turn, he spoke the whole day long, and thus prevented the doing of any business. Caisar, therefore, gave up the affair of the triumph, entered the city, and applied at once for the consulship and the interest of Pompey. As soon as he was appointed consul, he married Julia; and as they had both entered into a league against the commonwealth, one proposed the liW for the distribution of lands among the poor, and the other seconded the proposal. Lucullus and Cicero, in conjunction with Bibulus, the ^ther consul, opposed it. But Cato in particular, who suspected the pernicious consequences of Caesar's connection with Pompey, was strenuous against the motion; and said it was not the Distribution of lands that he feared so much as the rewards which the cajolers of the people might expect from their favors. In this not only the senate agreed with him, but many of the people too, who were reasonably offended by the unconstitutional conduct of Ca.*- sar. For whatever the maddest and the most violent of the tribunes proposed for the pleasure of the mob, Caesar, to pay an abject court to them, ratified by the consular authority. When he found his motion, therefore, likely to be overruled, his party had recourse to violence, pelted Bibulus the consul with dirt, and broke the rods of his lictors. At length, when darts began to be thrown, and many were wounded, the rest of the senate fled as fast as possible out of the forum. Cato was the last that left it; and, as he walked slowly along, he frequently looked back, and exe- crated the wickedness and madness of the people. The Agrarian law, therefore, was not only passed, but they obliged the whole senate to take an oath that they would confirm and support it; and those that should refuse were sentenced to pay a heavy fine. Necessity brought most of them into the measure; for they remembered the example of Metellus,* who was banished for refusing to com- ply, in a similar instance, with the people. Cato was solicited by the tears of the female part of his family, and the entreaties of his friends, to yield and take the oath; but what principally induced him was the remonstrances and expostulations of Cicero; who represented to him, that there might not be so much virtue as he imagined in one man's dissenting from a decree that was estab- lished by the rest of the senate: that to expose himself to certain danger, without even the possi- bility of producing any good effect, was perfect insanity; and, what was still worse, to leave the commonwealth, for which he had undergone so many toils, to the mercy of innovators and usurp- ers, would look as if he were weary, at last, of Metellus Numidicus CATO THE YOUNGER. 503 iis patriotic labors. Cato, he added, might do ] vithout Rome; but Rome could not do without - Cato: his friends could not do without him; him- | self could not dispense with his assistance and [ support, while the audacious Clodius, by means ! of his tribunitiul authority, was forming the most dangerous machinations against him. By these, and the like remonstrances, solicited at home, and iu the forum, Cato, it is said, was with difficulty ?revniled on to take the oath; and that, his friend 'avonius excepted, he was the last that took it. Elated with this success, Caesar proposed an- other act for distributing almost the whole pro- vince of Campania among the poor. Cato alone opposed it. And though Ca3sar dragged him from the bench, and conveyed him to prison, he omitted not, nevertheless, to speak as he passed in defense of liberty, to enlarge upon the consequences of the act, and to exhort the citizens to put a stop to such proceedings. The senate, with heavy hearts, aud all the virtuous part of the people, followed Cato, with silent indignation. Caesar was not inattentive to the public discontent that this pro- ceeding occasioned ; but ambitiously expecting some concessions on the part of Cato, he pro- ceeded to conduct him to prison. At length, however, when he found these expectations vain, unable any longer to support the shame to which this conduct exposed him, he instructed one of the tribunes to rescue him from his officers. The people, notwithstanding, brought into his interest by these public distributions, voted him the pro- vince of Illyricurn and all Gaul, together with four legions, for the space of five years; though Cato foretold them, at the same time, that they were voting a tyrant into the citadel of Rome. They moreover created Clodius, contrary to the laws (for he was of the patrician order), a tribune of the people, because they knew he would, in every respect, accede to their wishes with regard to the banishment of Cicero. Calpurnius Piso, the father of Cesar's wife, and Aulius Gabinius,* a bosom friend of Pompey's, as we are told by those who knew him best, they created consuls. Yet, though they had everything in their hands, and had gained one part of the people by favor and the other by fear, still they were afraid of Cato. They remembered the pains it cost them to overbear him, ana that the violent and com- pulsive measures they had recourse to did them but little honor. Clodius, too, saw that he could not distress Cicero while supported by Cato; yet this was his great object, and, upon his entering ou his tribunitial office, he had an interview with Cato; when, after paying him the compliment of being the most honest man in Rome, he proposed to him, as a testimony of his sincerity, the govern- ment of Cyprus, an appointment which lie said had been solicited by many. Cato answered, that, | far from being a favor, it was a treacherous scheme and a disgrace ; upon which Clodius fiercely replied, " If it is not your pleasure to go, it is mine that you shall go." And saying this, be went immediately to the senate, and procured a decree for Cato's expedition. Yet he neither supplied him with a vessel, a soldier, or a servant, two secretaries excepted, one of whom was a notorious thief, and the other a client of his own. Beside, as if the charge of Cyprus, and the oppo- sition of Ptolemy were not a sufficient task for him, he ordered him likewise to restore the Byzantine exiles. But his view in all this was tc keep Cato as long as possible out of Rome. Cato. thus obliged to go, exhorted Cicero, who was at the same time closely hunted by Clodius, by no means to involve his country in a civil war, but to yield to the necessity of the times. By means of his friend Canidius, whom ho sent before him to Cyprus, he negotiated with Ptolemy in such a manner, that he yielded with- out coming to blows; for Cato gave him to under- stand, that he should not live in a poor or abject condition, but that he should be appointed high- priest to the Paphian Venus.* While this was negotiating, Cato stopped at Rhodes, at once waiting for Ptolemy's answer, and making pre- parations for the reduction of the island. In the meantime Ptolemy, king of Egypt, who had left Alexandria upon some quarrel with his subjects, was on his way to Rome, in order to solicit his re-establishment from Caesar and Pom- pey, by means of the Roman arms. Being in- formed that Cato was at Rhodes, he sent to him in hopes that he would wait upon him. When his messenger arrived, Cato, who then happened to have taken physic, told him, that if Ptolemy wanted to see him, he might come himself. When he came, Cato neither went forward to meet him, nor did he so much as rise from his seat, but saluted him as he would do a common person, and carelessly bade him sit down. Ptolemy was somewhat hurt by it at first, and surprised to meet with such a supercilious severity of manners in a man of Cato's mean dress and appearance. However, when he entered into conversation with him concerning his affairs, when he heard his free and nervous eloquence, he was easily reconciled to him. Cato, it seems, blamed his impolitic ap- plication to Rome; represented to him the happi- ness he had left, and that he was about to expose himself to toils, the plagues of attendance, and, what was still worse, to the avarice of the Roman chiefs, which the whole kingdom of Egypt, con- verted into money, could not satisfy. He advised him to return with his fleet, and be reconciled to his people, offering him at the same time his at- tendance and mediation; and Ptolemy, restored by his representations, as it were, from insanity to reason, admired the discretion and sincerity of Cato, and determined to follow his advice. His friends, nevertheless, brought him back to his former measures; but he was no sooner at the door of one of the magistrates of Rome than lie repented of his folly, and blamed himself for rejecting the virtuous counsels of Cato, as for dis- obeying the oracle of a god. Ptolemy of Cyprus, as Cato's good stars would have it, took himself off by poison. As he was said to have left a full treasury, Cato being deter- mined to go himself to Byzantium, sent his nephe\T Brutus to Cyprus, because he had not sufficient confidence in Canidius: when the exiles were re- conciled to the rest of the citizens, and all things quiet in Byzantium, he proceeded to Cyprus. Here he found the royal furniture very magnifi- cent in the articles of vessels, tables, jewels, and purple, all which were to be converted into ready * Plutarch does not mean to represent this friendship in any favorable light. The character of Gabinius was des-j picable in every respect, as appears from Cicero's oration j for Sextius. a poor exchange for a king Join; but when it is remembered, thai, in the Pagan theology, tho priests of the gods were not inferior !a dignity to princes, and that most of them were of royal familiesj when it is considered in what high reputation the Papliiua Venus stood among the ancients, and what a lucrative as well as honorable oih'ce that of her priest must have beerv, occasioned by the offerings of the prodigious concourse of people who came annually to pay their devotions at her temple; it will be thought that Ptolemy made no bad bar- gain for his little island. 604 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. money. In the management of this affair he was very exact, attended at the sales, took the accounts himself, and brought every article to the best market. Nor would he trust to the common cus- toms of sale-factors, auctioneers, bidders, or even his own friends; but had private conferences with the purchasers, in which he urged them to bid higher, so that everything went off at the greatest rate. By this means he gave offense to many of his friends, and almost implacably affronted his particular friend Munatius. Caesar, too, in his oration against him, availed himself of this circum- stance, and treated him very severely. Muna- tius, however, telis us that this misunderstanding was not so much occasioned by Cato's distrust, as by his neglect of him, and by his own jealousy of Canidius: for Munatius wrote memoirs of Cato, which Thraseas lias chiefly followed. He tells us, that he was among the last that arrived at Cyprus, and by that means found nothing but the refuse of the lodgings; that he went to Cato's apartments, and was refused admittance, because Cato was privately concerting something with Canidius; and that when he modestly complained of this conduct, he received a severe answer from Cato; who observed, with Theophrastus, that too much love was frequently the occasion of hatred; and that he, because of the strength of his attach- ment to him, was angry at the slightest inatten- tion. He told him, at the same time, that he made use of Canidius as a necessary agent, and because he had more confidence in him than in the rest, having found him honest though he had been there from the first, and had opportunities of being otherwise. This conversation, which he had in private with Cato, the latter, he informs us, related to Canidius; and when this came to his knowledge, he would neither attend at Cato's entertainments, nor, though called upon, assist at his councils. Cato threatened to punish him for disobedience, and, as is usual, to take a pledge from him;* Munatius paid no regard to it, but sailed for Rome, and long retained his resentment. Upon Cato's return, by means of Marcia, who at that time lived with her husband, he and Muna- tius were both invited to sup with Barca. Cato, who came in after the rest of the company had taken their places, asked where he should take his place? Barca answered, where he pleased. ** Then," said he, "I will take my place by Muna- tius." He therefore took his place next him, but he showed him no other marks of friendship dur- ing supper; afterward however, at the request of Marcia, Cato wrote to him, that he should be glad to see him. He therefore waited on him at his own house, and being entertained by Marcia until the rest of the morning visitors were gone, Cato came in and embraced him with great kindness. We have dwelt upon these little circumstances the longer, as, in our opinion, they contribute, 110 less than more public and important actions, toward the clear delineation of manners and char- acters. Cato in his expedition had acquired near seven thousand talents of silver, and being under some apprehensions on account of the length of his voyage, he provided a number of vessels that would hold two talents and five hundred drach- mas apiece. To each of these he tied a long cord, at the end of which was fastened a large piece of cork, so that if any misfortune should * When a magistrate refused a summons to the senate or public council, the penally was to take some piece of fiirniture out of his house, and to keep it until he should attend. This they called pignora capere. happen to the ship that contained them, theso buoys might mark the spot where they lay. The whole treasure, however, except a very little, was conveyed with safety. Yet his two books of ac- counts, which he kept very accurate, were both lost; one by shipwreck with his freedman Phi- largyrus,and the other by fire at Corcyra; for the sailors, on account of the coldness of the weather, kept fires in the tents by night, and thus the mis- fortune happened. This troubled Cato, though Ptolemy's servants, whom he had brought over with him, were sufficient vouchers for his con- duct, against enemies and informers. For he did not intend these accounts merely as a proof of his honesty, but to recommend the same kind of ac- curacy and industry to others. As soon as his arrival with the fleet was notified in Rome, the magistrates, the priests, the whole senate, and multitudes of the people, went down to the river to meet him, and covered both its banks, so that his reception was something like a triumph. Yet there was an ill-timed haughtiness in his conduct; for, though the consuls and prsetors came to wait upon him, he did not so much as attempt to make the shore where they were, but rowed carelessly along in a royal six-oared galley, and did not land until he came into port with his whole fleet. The people, however, were struck with admiration at the vast quantity of money that was carried along the streets, and the senate, in full assembly, bestowed the highest encomiums upon him, and voted him a proctorship extraor- dinary;* and the right of attending at the public, shows in a proetexta, or purple-bordered gown. But these honors he thought proper to decline. At the same time he petitioned that they would grant his freedom to Nicias, an officer of Ptolemy's, in favor of whose diligence and fidelity he gave his own testimony. Philip, the father of Marcia, was consul at that time, and his colleague respect- ed Cato no less for his virtue than Philip might for his alliance, so that he had in some measure the whole consular interest in his hands. When Cicero returned from that exile to which he had been sentenced by Clodius, his influence was con- siderable, and he scrupled not, in the absence of Clodius, to pull down and destroy the tribunitial edicts which the latter had put up in the CapitoU Upon this the senate was assembled, and Cicero, upon the accusation of Cloiiius, made his defense, by alleging that Ctodius had not been legally ap- pointed tribune, and that, of course, every act of his office was null and void. Cato interrupted kirn, and said, " That he was indeed sensible that the whole administration of Clodius had been wicked and absurd; but that if every act of his office were to be annulled, all that he had done in Cyprus would stand for nothing, because his commission, issuing from a tribune not legally appointed, could not be valid; that Clodius, though he was of a patrician family, had not been chosen tribune contrary to law, because he had previously been enrolled in the order of plebeians by an act passed for that purpose; and that, if he had acted unjustly in his office, he was liable to personar impeachments, while at the same time the offict' itself retained its proper force and authority.*' This occasioned a quarrel for some time between Cicero and Cato, but afterward they were re- conciled. Cassar, upon his return out of Gaul, was mej * Cato was then but thirty-eight years of age, and, con- sequently, too young to be prjetor in the ordinary way, in which a person could not enter on that office until he was forty. CATO THE YOUNGER. 505 by Pompey and Crassus, and it was agreed that the two last should again stand fnr the consul- ship, that Caesar should retain his government five years longer, and that the best provinces, re- venues, and troops should be secured to them- selves. This was nothing less than a division of empire, and a plot against the liberties of the com- monwealth. This d-nigerous junction deterred many men of distinguished rank and integrity from their design of offering themselves candidates for the consulship. Cato, however, prevailed on Lucius Domitius, who married his sister, not to give up the point, nor to resign his pretensions: for that the contest was not then for the consul- ship, but for the liberties of Rome. The sober part of the citizens agreed, too, that the consular power should not be suffered to grow so enormous by the union of Crassus and Pompey; but that, at all events, they were to be separated, and Domi- tius encouraged and supported in the competition. They assured him, at the same time, that he would have the voices of many of the people: who were at present only silent through fear. Pompey's party, apprehensive of this, lay in wait for Domi- tius, as he went before day, by torchlight, into the Campus Martius. The torchbearer was killed at the first stroke; the rest were wounded and fled, Cato and Dornitius alone excepted; for Cato, though he had received a wound in the arm, still kept Domitius on the spot, and conjured him not to desert the cause of liberty while he had life, but to oppose to the utmost these enemies of their country, who showed what use they intended to make of that power which they sought by such execrable means. Domitius, however, unable to stand the shock, retired, and Pompey and Crassus were elected consuls. Yet Cato gave up nothing for lost, but solicited a praetorship for himself, that he might from thence, as from a kind of fort, militate against the consuls, and not contend with them in the capacity of * private citizen. The consuls, appre- hensive that the praetorial power of Cato would not be inferior even to the consular authority, suddenly assembled a small senate, and obtained a decree, that those who were elected praetors should immediately enter upon their office,* with- out waiting the usual time to stand the charge, if any such charge should be brought against them, of bribery and corruption. By this means they brought in their own creatures and depen- dents, presided at the election, and gave money to the populace. Yet still the virtue of Cato could uot totally lose its weight. There were still those who had honesty enough to be ashamed of selling his interest, and wisdom enough to think that it would be of service to the state to elect him, even at the public expense. He therefore was nomi- nated prtetor by the votes of the first-called tribe; but Pompey scandalously pretending that he heard it thunder, broke, up the assembly; for it is not common for the Romans to do any business if it thunders. Afterward, by means of bribery, and by the exclusion of the virtuous part of the citi- zens from the assembly, they procured Vatinius to be returned praetor instead of Cato. Those ^lectors, it is said, who voted from such iniquitous motives, like so many culprits, immediately ran away. To the rest that assembled and expressed their indignation, Cato was empowered by one of the tribunes to address himself in a speech; in the course of which he foretold, as if inspired by some * Taere was always a time allotted between nomination and possession; that if any undue menus had been mude use of'in the canvass, it might be discovered. Jivine influence, all those evils that then threaten- ed the commonwealth; and stirred up the people gainst Pompey and Crassus, who, in the con seiousness of their guilty intentions, feareo. tne control of the praetorial power of Cato. In his re- turn home he was followed by a greater multitude than all that had been appointed praetors united. When Caius Trebonius moved for the distri- bution of the consular provinces, and proposed giving Spain and Africa to one of the consuls, and Syria and Egypt to the other, together with fleets and armies, and an unlimited power of making war ami extending dominion, the rest of the senate, thinking opposition vain, forbore to speak against the motion. Cato, however, before it was put to the vole, ascended the rostrum, in order to speak, but he was limited to the space of two hours; and when he had spent this time in repetitions, in- structions, and predictions, and was proceeding in his discourse, the lictor took him down from the rostrum. Yettill, when below among the peo- ple, he persisted to speak in behalf of liberty; and the people readily attended to him, and joined in his indignation, until the consul's beadle again laid hold of him, and turned him out of the forum. He attempted, notwithstanding, to return to his place, and excited the people to assist him; which, being done more than once, Trebonius, in a violent rage, ordered him to prison. Thither he was fol- lowed by the populace, to whom he addressed himself as he went, until, at last, Trebonius, through fear, dismissed him. Thus Cato was rescued that day. But afterward, the people be- ing partly overawed, and partly corrupted, the consular party prevented Aquilius, one of the tri- bunes, by force of arms, from corning out of the senate-house into the assembly, wounded many, killed some, and thrust Cato, who said it thun- dered, out of the forum; so that the law was passed by compulsion. This rendered Pompey so ob- noxious, that the people were going to pull down his statues, but were prevented by Cato. After- ward, when the law was proposed for the allotment of Caesar's provinces, Cato, addressing himself particularly to Pornpey, told him with great con- fidence, he did not then consider that he was taking Caesar upon his shoulders; but when he began to find his weight, and could neither support it nor shake him off, they would both fall together, and crush the commonwealth in their fall; and then he should find, too late, that the counsels of Cato were no less salutary for himself than intrinsically just. Yet Pompey, though he often heard these things, in the confidence of his fortune and his power, despised them, and feared no reverse from the part of Cresar. Cato was the following year appointed praetor; but he can hardly be said to have contributed so much to the dignity of that high office by the rectitude of his conduct, as to have derogated from it by the meanness of his dress; for he would often go to the praetorial bench without his robe or his shoes, and sit in judgment, even in capital cases, on some of the first personages in Rome. Some will have it, that he passed sentence when he had drank after dinner, but that is not true, fie was resolved to extirpate that extreme corruption which then prevailed among the people in elec- tions of every kind; and, in order to effect this, lifi moved that a law should be passed in the senate, for every candidate, though no information should be said, to declare upon oath in what manner ha obtained his election. This gave offense to the candidates, and to the more mercenary part of tha people. So that, as Cato was going in the morn- jing to the tribunal, he was so much insulted and 506 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. pelted with stones by the mob, that the whole court fled, and he with difficulty escaped into the rostrum. There he stood, and his firm and steady aspect soon hushed the clamors and disorders of the populace; so that when he spoke upon the subject, he was heard with a general silence.* The senate publicly testified their approbation of his conduct: but he answered, that no compliment could be paid to them at least for deserting the prajtor, and declining to assist him when in mani- fest danger. This measure distressed the candi- dates considerably; for, on the one hand; they were afraid of giving bribes, and on the other, they were apprehensive of losing their election, if it should be done by their opponents. They thought it best, therefore, jointly to deposit five hundred sestertia each,t then to canvass in a fair and legal manner, and if any one should be con- victed of bribery, he should forfeit his deposit. Cato was appointed guarantee of this agreement, and the money was to be lodged in his hand; but for this he accepted of sureties. When the day of election came, Cato stood next to the tribune who presided, and as he examined the votes, one of the depositing candidates appeared to have made use, of some fraud. He therefore ordered him to pay the money to the rest. But, after compliment- ing the integrity of Cato, they remitted the fine, and said that the guilt was a sufficient punishment. Cato, however, rendered himself obnoxious to many by this conduct, who seemed displeased that he affected both the legislative and judicial powers. Indeed, there is hardly any authority so much exposed to envy as the latter, and hardly any virtue so obnoxious as that of justice, owing to the popular weight and influence that it always carries along with it. For though he who ad- ministers justice in a virtuous manner, may not oe respected as a man of valor, nor admired as a man of parts, yet his integrity is always productive of love and confidence. Valor produces fear, and parts create suspicion; they are distinctions, moreover, which are rather given than acquired. One arises from a natural acuteness, the other from a natural firmness of mind. However, as justice is a virtue so easily practicable and ob- tainable, the opposite vice is proportionably odious. Thus Cato became obnoxious to the chiefs of Rome in general. But Pompey in particular, whose glory was to rise out of the ruins of his power, labored with unwearied assiduity to pro- cure impeachments against him. The incendiary Clodius, who had again entered the lists of Pom- pey, accused Cato of embezzling a quantity of the Cyprian treasure, and of raising an opposition to Pompey, because the latter had refused to accept of his daughter in marriage. Cato, on the other hand, maintained, that, though he was not so much us supplied with a horse, or a soldier, by the government, yet he had brought more treasure to the commonwealth from Cyprus, than Pompey had done fiom so many wars and triumphs over the harassed world. He asserted, that he never * This circumstance in Cato's life affords a good com- ment on the following passage in Virgil, and, at the same time, the labored dignity and weight of that verse, Pietate gravem et meritis si forte virum quern, conveys a very strong and just idea of Cato. Ac veluti mngno in populo cum sape coorta est Seditio, ssevitque animis ignobile vulgus; .lamque faces et saxa volant; furor arma ministrat, Turn, pietate gravem et meritis si forte virum quern Conspexere, silent, arrectisqne auribus adstant: IJle regit dictis, animos et pectora mulcet. Virg. JEn. ]. t Cicero speaks of this agreement in one of his epistles to Atticus. even wished for the alliance of Pompey, not be- cause he thought him unworthy, but because of the difference of their political principles. "For my own part," said he, " I rejected the province offered me as an appendage to my praetorship; but for Pompey, he arrogated some provinces to him- self, and some he bestowed on his friends. Nay, he has now, without even soliciting your consent accommodated Caesar in Gaul with six thousand soldiers. Such forces, armaments, and horses, are now, it seems at the disposal of private men: and Pompey retains the title of commander and gene- ral, while he delegates to others the legions and the provinces; and continues within the walls to preside at elections, the arbiter of the mob, and the fabricator of sedition. From this conduct his principles are obvious. He holds it but one step from anarchy to absolute power." * Thus Cato maintained his party against Pompey. Marcus Favonius was the intimate friend and mitator of Cato, as Apollodorus Phalereusf is said to have been of Socrates, whose discourses he was transported with even to madness or in- toxication. This Favonius stood for the office of ffidile, and apparently lost it; -but Cato, upon examining the votes, and finding them all to be written in the same hand, appealed against the fraud, and the tribunes set aside the election. Favonius, therefore, was elected. In the discharge of the several offices of his magistracy, he had the assistance of Cato, particularly in the theatrical entertainments that were given to the people. In these Cato gave another specimen of his economy; for he did not allow the players and musicians crowns of gold, but of wild olive, such as they use in the Olympic games. Instead of expensive presents, he gave the Greeks beets and lettuces, and radishes and parsley; and the Romans he pre- sented with jugs of wine, pork, figs, cucumbers, and fagots of wood. Some ridiculed the meanness of his presents, while others were delighted with this relaxation from the usual severity of his man- ners. And Favonius, who appeared only as a common person among the spectators, and had given up the management of the whole to Cato, declared the same to the people, and publicly ap- plauded his conduct, exhorting him to reward merit of every kind. Curio, the colleague of Favonius, exhibited, at the same time, in the other theater, a very magnificent entertainment: but the people left him, and were much more entertained with seeing Favonius act the private citizen, and Cato master of the cereionies. It is probable, however, that he took this upon him only to show the folly of troublesome and expensive prepara- tions in matters of mere amusement, and that the benevolence and good humor suitable to such oc- casions would have better effect. When Scipio, Hypsoeus, and Milo, were candi- dates for the consulship, and, beside the usual in- famous practices of bribery and corruption, had recourse to violence and murder and civil war, it was proposed that Pompey should be appointed protector of the election. But Cato opposed this* and said that the laws should not derive their security from Pompey, but that Pompey should owe his to the laws. * This maxim has been verified in almost every state. When ambitious men aimed at absolute power, their first measure was to impede the regular movements of the con- stitutional government, by throwing all into confns.on, that they might ascend to monarchy, as -iEneas went to the thronp of Carthage, involved m a cloud. t See Plato's Phsedo, and the beginning of the Symp<* slum. This Apollodorus was surnamed Manicus, from Ui passionate enthusiasm. CATO THE YOUNGER. However, when the consular power had been long suspended, and the forum was in some mea- sure besieged by three armies, Cato, that things might not come to the worst, recommended to the senate to confer that power on Pompey as a favor, with which his own influence would otherwise invest him; and by that means make a less evil the remedy for a greater. Bibulus, there- fore, an agent of Cato's, moved in the senate that Pompey should be created sole consul; adding, that his administration would either be of the greatest service to the state, or that, at least, if the commonwealth must have a master, it would have the satisfaction of being under the auspices of the greatest man in Rome. Cato, contrary to every one's expectation, seconded the motion, in- timating that any government was preferable to anarchy, and that Pornpey promised fair for a con- stitutional administration, and for the preservation of the city. Pompey, being thus elected consul, invited Cato (o his house in the suburbs. He received him with the greatest caresses and acknowledgments, and entreated him to assist in his administration, and to preside at his councils. Cato answered, that he had neither formerly opposed Pompey out of private enmity, nor supported him of late out of personal favor; but that the welfare of the state had been his motive in both: that, in private, he would assist him with his counsel whenever he should be called upon; but that, in public, he should speak his sentiments, whether they might be in Pompey's favor or not. And he did not fail to do as he had said. For, soon after, when Poin- pey proposed severe punishments and penalties against those who had been guilty of bribery, Cato gave it as his opinion, that the past should be overlooked, and the future only adverted to: for that if he should scrutinize into former offenses of that kind, it would be difficult to say where it would end ; and should he establish penal laws, ex post facto, it would be hard that those who were convicted of former offenses, should suffer for the breach of those laws which were then not in being. Afterward, too, when impeachments were brought against several persons of rank, and some of Pompey's friends among the rest, Cato, when he observed that Pompey favored the latter, re- proved him with great freedom, and urged him to the discharge of his duty. Pompey had enacted, that encomiums should no longer he spoken in favor of the prisoner at the bar; and yet, he gave into the court a written encomium on Munatius Plancus,* when he was upon his trial; but Cato, when he observed this, as he was one of the judges, stopped his ears, and forbade the apo- logy to be read. Plancus, upon this, objected to Cato's being one of the judges; yet he was con- demned notwithstanding. Indeed, Cato gave the criminals in general no small perplexity; lor they were equally afraid of having him for their judge, and of objecting to him; as in the latter case, it was generally understood that they were unwilling to rely on their innocence, and by the same means were condemned. Nay, to object to the judgment of Cuto, became a common handle of accusation and reproach. Caesar, at the same time that he was prosecuting the war in Gaul, was cultivating his interest in the city, by all that friendship and munificence could effect. Pompey saw this, and waked, as 507 from a dream, to the warnings of Cato: yet he remained indolent; and Cato, who perceived the political necessity of opposing Csesar, determined himself to stand for the consulship, that he might thereby oblige him either to lay down his arms or discover his designs. Gate's competitors were both men of credit; but Sulpicius,* who was one of them, had himself derived great advantages from the authority of Cato. On this account, he was censured as ungrateful: though Cato was not offended: "For what wonder," said he, "is it, that what a man esteems the greatest happiness he should not give up to another?" He procured an act in the senate, that no candidate should canvass by means of others. This exasperated the people; because it cut off at once the means of cultivating favor, and conveying bribes; and thereby rendered the lower order of citizens poor and insignificant. It was in some measure owing to this act that he logt the consulship; for he con- sulted his dignity too much to canvass in a popu- lar manner himself, and his friends could not then do it for him. A repulse, in this case, is for some time attended with shame and sorrow both to the candidate and his friends, but Cato was so little affected by it, that he anointed himself to play at ball, and walk- ed as usual after dinner with his friends in the forum, without his shoes or his tunic. Cicero, sensible how much Rome wanted such a consul, at once blamed his indolence, with regard to court- ing the people on this occasion, and his inatten- tion to future success; whereas, he had twice applied for the praatorship. Cato answered, that his ill success in the latter case was not owing to the aversion of the people, but to the corrupt and compulsive measures used among them; while in an application for the consulship no such mea- sures could be used; and he was sensible, therefore, that the citizens were offended by those manners, which it did not become a wise man either to change for their sakes, or, by repeating his appli- cation, to expose himself to the same ill success. Cffisar had, at this time, obtained many dan- gerous victories over warlike nations; and had fallen upon the Germans, though at peace with the Romans, and slain three hundred thousand of them. Many of the citizens, on this occasion, voted a public thanksgiving; but Cato was of a different opinion, and said, " That Caesar should be given up to the nations he had injured, that his conduct might not bring a curse upon the city; yet the gods," he said, " ought to be thank- ed, notwithstanding, that the soldiers had not suf- fered for the madness and wickedness of their general, but that they had in mercy spared the state." Ctfisar, upon this, sent letters to the senate, full of invectives against Cato. When they were read, Cato rose with great calmness, and in a speech, so regular that it seemed pre- meditated, said, that, with regard to the letters, as they contained nothing but a little of Caesar's buf- foonery, they deserved not to be answered; and then, laying open the whole plan of Caesar's con- duct, more like a friend, who knew his bosom counsels, than an enemy, he showed the senate that it was not the Britons or the Gauls they had to fear, but Caesar himself. This alarmed them so much, that Caesar's friends were sorry they had produced the letters that occasioned it. Nothing, however, was then resolved upon: only it was * Munatius Plancus, who, in the Greek, is, by mistake, * The competitors were M. Claudius Marcellus and Ser- called Flaccus, was then tribune of the people. He was vius Sulpicius Rufus. The latter, according to Dion, was accused by Cicero, and defended by Pompey, but unaui- I chosen for his knowledge of the laws, and the former ibf unously condemned [ hU eloquence. 508 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. debated concerning the propriety of appointing a successor to Caesar; and wlien Caesar's friends required, that, in case thereof, Pornpey too should relinquish his army, and give up his provinces: "Now," cried Calo, " is coining to pass the event that I foretold.* It is obvious, that Caesar will nave recourse to arms; and that the power which he has obtained by deceiving the people, he will make use of to enslave them." However, Cato had but little influence out of the senate, for the people were bent on aggrandizing Cossar; and even the senate, while convinced by the arguments of Cato, was afraid of the people. When the news was brought that Ca?sar had taken Arminiiirn, and was advancing with his army toward Rome, the people in general, and even Pompey, cast their eyes upon Cato, as on the only person who had foreseen the original de- signs of Caesar. "Had ye then," said Cato, "at- tended to my counsels, you jvould neither now have feared the power of one man, nor would it have been in one man that you should have placed your hopes." Pompey answered, that "Cato had indeed been a hotter prophet, but that he had him- self acted a more friendly part." And Cato then advised the senate to put everything into the hands of Pompey. "For the authors of great evils," he said, "know best how to remove them." As Pornpey perceived that his forces were insuffi- cient, and even the few that he had by no means hearty in his cause, he thought proper to leave the city. Cato, being determined to follow him, sent his youngest son to Munalius, who was in the country of the Brutii, and took the eldest along with him. As his family, and particularly his daughters, wanted a proper superintendent, he took Marcia again, who was then a rich widow; for Hortensius was dead, and had left her his whole estate. This circumstance gave Caesar oc- casion to reproach Cato with his avarice, and to call him the mercenary husband. "For why," said he, "did he part with h?r, if he had occasion for her himself? And, if he had not occasion for her, why did he take her again ? The reason is obvious. It was the wealth of Hortensius. He lent the young man his wife, that he might make her a rich widow." But, in answer to this, one need only quote that passage of Euripides, Call Hercules a coward! For it would be equally absurd to reproach Cato with covetousness as it would be to charge Her- cules with want of courage. Whether the con- duct of Cato was altogether unexceptionable in this affair is another question. However, as soon as he had remarried Marcia, he gave her the charge of his family, and followed Pompey. From that time, it is said that he neither cut his hair, nor shaved his beard, nor wore a garland; but was uniform in his dress, as in his anguish for his country. Ou which side soever victory might for a while decree, he changed not on that * But was not this very impolitic in Cato? Was it not a vain sacrifice to his ambition of prophesy? Czcsar could not long remain unacquainted with what had passed in the senate: and Cato's observation, on this occasion, was not much more discreet than it would be to tell a madman, who had a flambeau in his hand, that he intended to burn a house. Cato, in our opinion, with all his virtue, contri- buted no less to the destruction of the commonwealth than Caesar himself. Wherefore did he idly exasperate that ambitious man, by objecting against a public thanksgiving for his victories? There was a prejudice in that part of Cato's conduct, which had but the shadow of virtue to sup- port it. Nay, it is more than probable, that it was out of j spite to Caesar, that Cato gave the whole consular power to | Fompey. It must be remembered, that Caesar had de- bauched Cato's sister. account his habits. Being appointed to the gov- ernment of Sicily, he passed over to Syracuse-, and rinding that Asinius Pollio was arrived at Nessenia with a detachment from the enemy, he sent to him to demand the reason of his com- ing; but Pollio only answered his question by another, and demanded of Cato to know the cause of the revolutions. When he was inform- ed that Pompey had evacuated Italy, and was en- camped at Dyrrhachiurn. " How mysterious," said he, "are the ways of Providence ! When Pompey neither acted upon the principles of wis- dom nor of justice, he was invincible; but now that he would save the liberties of his country, his good fortune seems to have forsaken him." Asinius, he said, he could easily drive out of Sici- ly; but as greater supplies were at hand, he was unwilling to involve the island in war. He there- fore advised the Syracusans to consult their safety by joining the stronger party; and soon after set sail. When he came to Pompey, his constant sentiments were, that the war should be procras- tinated in hopes of peace; for that, if they came to blows, which party soever might be successful, the event would be decisive against the liberties of the state. He also prevailed on Pompey, and the council of war, that neither any city subject to the Romans should be sacked, nor any Roman killed, except in the field of battle. By this he gained great glory, and brought over many, by his humanity, to the interest of Pornpey. When he went into Asia for the purpose of raising men and ships, he took with him his sister Servilia, and a little boy that she had by Lucullus; for, since the death of her husband, she had lived with him; and this circumstance of putting her- self under the eye of Cato, and of following him through the severe discipline of camps, greatly recovered her reputation: yet Coasar did not fail to censure Cato even on her account. Though Pompey's officers in Asia did not think that they had much need of Cato's assist- ance, yet he brought over the Rhodians to their interest; and there leaving his sister Servilia and her son, he joined Pompey's forces, which were now on a respectable footing, both by sea and land. It was on this occasion that Pompey dis- covered his final views. At first, he intended to have given Cato the supreme naval command; and he had then no fewer than five hundred men of war, beside an infinite number of open galleys and tenders. Reflecting, however, or reminded by his friends, that Cato's great principle was on all occasions to rescue the commonwealth from the government of an individual; and that if in- vested with so considerable a power himself, the moment Caesar should be vanquished, he would oblige Pompey too to lay down his arms, and sub- mit to the laws; he changed his intentions, though he had already mentioned them to Cato, and gave the command of the fleet to Bibulus. The zed of Cato, however, was not abated by this conduct When they were on the eve of battle at Dyrrha- chium, Pompey himself addressed and encourag- ed the army, and ordered his officers to do tiie same. Their addresses, notwithstanding, were coldly received. But when Cato rose and spoke, upon' the principles of philosophy, concerning liberty, virtue, death, and glory; when by his im- passioned action, he showed that he felt what he spoke, and that his eloquence took its glowing colors from his soul; when he concluded with an invocation to the gods, as witnesses of their ef- forts for the preservation of their country; the plaudits of the army rent the skies, and the gen- erals marched on in full confidence of victory CATO THE YOUNGER. 509 They fought and were victorious; though Cae- sar's good genius availed him of the frigid caution and diffidence of Pornpey, and rendered the vic- tory incomplete. But these things have been mentioned in the life of Pompey. Amid the gen- eral joy that followed this success, Cato alone mourned over his country, and bewailed that fatal and cruel ambition which covered the field with bodies of citizens fallen by the hands of each other. When Pompey, in pursuit of Caesar, pro- ceeded to Thessaly, and left in Dyrrhachium a large quantity of arms and treasure, together with some friends and relations, he gave the whole in charge to Cato, with the command of fifteen cohorts only; for still he was afraid of his republican principles. If he should be vanquish- ed, indeed, he knew Cato would be faithful to him; but if he should be victor, he knew, at the same time, that he would not permit him to reap the reward of conquest in the sweets of absolute power. Cato, however, had the satisfaction of being attended by many illustrious persons in Dyrrhachium. After the fatal overthrow at Pharsalia, Cato de- termined, in case of Pompey's death, to conduct the people under his charge to Italy, and then to retire into exile, far from the cognizance of the power of the tyrant; but if Pompey survived, he was resolved to keep his little forces together for him. With this design, he passed into Corcyra, where the fleet was stationed: and would there have resigned his command to Cicero, because he had been consul and himself only praBtor. But Cicero declined it, and set sail for Italy. Pompey the younger resented this defection, and was about to lay violent hands on Cicero and some others, but Cato prevented him by private ex- postulation; and thus saved the lives both of Cicero and the rest. Cato, upon a supposition that Pompey the Great would make his escape into Egypt or Lib- ya, prepared to follow him, together with his little force, after having first given, to such as chose it, the liberty of staying behind. As soon as he had reached the African coast, he met with Sextus, Pompey's younger son, who acquainted him with the death of his father. This greatly afflicted the little band; but as Pompey was no more, they unanimously resolved to have no other leader than Cato. Calo, out of compassion to the honest men that had put their confidence in him, and because he would not leave them desti- tute in a foreign country, took upon him the command. He first made for Gyrene, and was received by the people, though they had before shut their gates against Labienus. Here he un- derstood that Scipio, Pompey's father-in-law, was entertained by Juba; and that Appius Varus, to whom Pompey had given the government of Africa, had joined them with his forces. Cato, therefore, resolved to march to them by land, as it was now winter. He had got together a great many asses to carry water; and furnished him- self also with cuttle and other victualing provi- sions, as well as with a number of carriages. He had likewise in his train some of the people call- ed Psylli,* who obviate the bad effects of the bite of serpents, by sucking out the poison; and deprive the serpents themselves of their ferocity * These people were so called from their king Psyllns, whose tomb was in the region of the Syrtes. Varro tells us, that, to try the legitimacy of their children, they suffer them to be bitten by a venomous serpent; and it' they sur- vive the wound, they conclude that they are not spurious. Cfates Pergamenus says, there were a people of this kind t Paros, on the Hell'espont, called Ophiogenes, whose by their charms. During a continued march for seven days, he was always foremost, though he rryide use of neither horse nor chariot. Even after the unfortunate battle of Pharsalia, he ate sitting,! intending it as an additional token of mourning, that lie never lay down except to sleep. By the end of winter he reached the place of his designation in Libya, with an army of near ten thousand men. The affairs of Scipio and Varus were in a bad situation, by reason of the misunderstanding and distraction which prevailed between them, and which led them to pay their court with great servility to Juba, whose wealth and power rendered him intolerably arrogant. For when he first gave Cato audience, he took his place between Scipio and Cato. But Cato took up his chair and removed it to the other side of Scipio; thus giving him the most honorable place, though he was his enemy, and had published a libel against him Cafo's adversaries have not paid proper regard to his spirit on this occasion, but they have been ready enough to blame him for putting Philostratus in the middle, when he was walking with him one day in Sicily, though he did it entirely out of regard to philosophy. In this manner he humbled Juba, who had consider- ed Scipio and Varus as little more than his lieu- tenants; and he took care also to reconcile them to each other. The whole army then desired him to take the command upon him; and Scipio and Varus readi- ly offered to resign it: but he said, "He would not transgress the laws, for the sake of which he was waging war with the man who trampled upon them; nor, when he was only propraetor, take the command from a proconsul." For Scipio had been appointed proconsul; and his name in- spired the generality with hopes of success; for they thought a Scipio could not be beaten in Africa. Scipio being established commander-in-chief, to gratify Juba, was inclined to put all the inhabi- tants of Utica to the sword, and to raze the city as a place engaged in the interest of Caesar. But Cato would not suffer it: he inveighed loudly iu council against that design, invoking Heaven and earth to oppose it; and, with much difficulty, res- cued that people out of the hands of cruelty. j After which, partly on their application, and partly at the request of Scipio, he agreed to take the command of the town, that it might neither willingly nor unwillingly fall into the hands of Ca3sar. Indeed, it was a place very convenien and advantageous to those who were masters of it; and Cato added much to its strength, as well touch alone was a cure for the bite of a serpent. Celsus observes, that the Psylli suck out the poison from the wound, not by any superior skill or quality, but because they have courage enough to do it. Some writers have asserted that the Psylli have an innate quality in their constitution, that is poisonous to serpents; and that the smell of it throws them into a profound sleep. Pliny maintains, that every man has in himself a natural poison for serpents; and that thosti creatures will shun the human saliva, as they would boiling water. The fasting saliva, in particular, if it conies within their mouths, kills them immediately. If, therefore, we may believe that the human saliva is an anti- dote to the poison of a serpent, we shall have no occasion to believe, at the same time, that the Psylli were endowed with any peculiar qualities of this kind, but that their success in these operations arose, as Celsus says, E.t andacia usa coiijirniata. However, they made a considerable trade of it; arid we are assured, that they have been known to im- port the African serpents into Italy, and other countries, t increase their gain. Pliny says, they brought scorpions into Sicilv, but they would not live in that island. t The consul Varro did the same after the battle of Canna, It was a ceremony of mourning. 510 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. as convenience. For he brought into it a vast quantity of bread-corn, repaired the walls, erect- ed towers, and fortified it with ditches and ram- parts. Then he armed all the youth of Utica, and posted them in the trenches under his eye: as for the rest of the inhabitants, he kept them close within the walls; but, at the same time, took great care that they should suffer no injury of any kind from the Romans. And by the supply of arms, of money, and provisions, which he sent in great quantities to the camp, Utica carne to be considered as the principal magazine. The advice he had before given to Pompey, he now gave to Scipio, " Not to risk a battle with an able and experienced warrior, but to take the ad- vantage of time, which most effectually blasts the growth of tyranny." Scipio, however, in his rashness, despised these counsels, and once even scrupled not to reproach Cato with cowardice; asking, "Whether lie could not be satisfied with sitting still himself within the walls and bars, unless he hindered others from taking bolder measures upon occasion?" Cato wrote back, "That he was ready to cross over into Italy with the horse and foot which he had brought into Africa, and, by bringing Cresar upon himself, to draw him from his design against Scipio." But Scipio only ridiculed the proposal; and it was plain that Cato now repented his giving up to him the command, since he saw that Scipio would take no rational scheme for the conduct of the war; and that if he should, beyond all expec- tation, succeed, he would behave with no kind of moderation to the citizens. It was therefore Cato's judgment, and he often declared it to his friends, "That, by reason of the incapacity and rashness of the generals, he could hope no good end of the war; and that, even if victory should declare for them, and Caesar be destroyed, for his part, he would not stay at Rome, but fly from the cruelty and inhumanity of Scipio, who already threw out insolent menaces against many of the Romans." The thing came to pass sooner than he expect- ed. About midnight a person arrived from the army, whence he had been three days in coming, with news that a great battle had been fought at Thapsus; that all was lost; that Caesar was master of both the camps, and that Scipio and Juba were fled with a few troops, which had es- caped the general slaughter. On the receipt of such tidings, the people of Utica, as might be expected amidst the apprehen- sions of night and war, were in the utmost dis- traction, and could scarce keep themselves within the walls. But Cato making his appearance among the citizens, who were running up and down the streets with great confusion and clamor, encouraged them in the best manner he could. To remove the violence of terror and astonish- ment, he told them the case might not be so bad as it was represented, the misfortune being prob- ably exaggerated by report; and thus he calmed the present tumult. As soon as it was light, he summoned to the temple of Jupiter the three hun- dred whom he made use of as a council. These were the Romans who trafficked there in mer- chandise and exchange of money; and to them he added all the senators, and their sons. While they were assembling, he entered the house with great composure and firmness of look, as if nothing extraordinary had happened; and read a book which he had in his hand. This contained an account of the stores, the corn, the arms, and other implements of war, and the musters. When they were met, he opened the matter by commending the three hundred, for the extraordi- nary alacrity and fidelity they had shown in serving the public cause with their purses, their persons, and their counsels; and exhorting them not to entertain different views, or to endeavor to save themselves by flight; "for," continued he, "if you keep in a body, Caesar will not hold you in such contempt, if you continue the war; and you will be more likely to be spared, if you have recourse to submission. I desire you will consider the point thoroughly, and what resolution soever you may take, I will not blame you. If you are in- clined to go with the stream of fortune, I shall impute the change to the necessity of the times. If you bear up against their threatening aspect, and continue to face danger in the cause of lib- erty, I will be your fellow-soldier, as well aa captain, until our country has experienced the last issues of her fate: our country, which is not in Utica, or Adrymettum, but Rome; and she, in her vast resources, has often recovered herself from greater falls than this. Many resources we certainly have at present; and the principal is, that we have to contend with a man whose oc- casions oblige him to attend to various objects Spain is gone over to young Pompey, and Rome, as yet unaccustomed to the yoke, is ready to spurn it from her, and to rise on any prospect of change. Nor is danger to be declined. In this you may take your enemy for a pattern, who is prodigal of his blood in the most iniquitous cause; where- as, if you succeed, you will live extremely happy; if you miscarry, the uncertainties of war will be terminated with a glorious death. However, de- liberate among yourselves as to the sjeps you should take, first entreating Heaven to prosper your determinations in a manner worthy the courage and zeal you have already shown." This speech of Cato's inspired some with con- fidence, and even with hope; and the generality were so much affected with his intrepid, hia generous, and humane turn of mind, that they almost forgot their present danger; and looking upon him as the only general that was invincible, and superior to all fortune, "They desired him to make what use he thought proper of their for- tunes and their arms; for that it was better to die under his banner than to save their lives at the expense of betraying so much virtue." One of the council observed the expediency of a decree for enfranchising the slaves, and many commend- ed the motion: Cato, however, said, "He would not do that, because it was neither just nor law- ful; but such as their masters would voluntarily discharge, he would receive, provided they were of proper age to bear arms." This many promised to do; and Cato withdrew, after hav- ing ordered lists to be made out of all that should offer. A little after this, letters were brought him from Juba and Scipio. Juba, who lay with a small corps concealed in the mountains, desired to know Cato's intentions; proposing to wait for him if he left Utica, or to assist him if he chose to stand a siege. Scipio also lay at anchor under a promontory near Utica, expecting an answer on the same account. Cato thought it advisable to keep the messen- ger until he should know the final determination of the three hundred. All of the patrician order with great readiness enfranchised and armed their slaves; but as for the three hundred, who dealt in traffic and loans of money at kigh interest, and whose slaves were a considerable part of their fortune, the impression which Cato's speech had made upon them did not last long. As some CATO THE YOUNGER. 511 bodies easily receive heat, and as easily grow cold again when the fire is removed, so the sight of Cato warmed and liberalized these traders; but when they came to consider the matter among themselves, the dread of Caesar soon put to flight their reverence for Cato, and for virtue. For thus they talked "What are we, and what is the man whose orders we refuse to receive? Is it not Caesar into whose hands the whole power of the Roman empire is fallen? And surely none of us is a Scipio, a Pompey, or a Cato. Shall we, at a time when their fears make all men entertain sentiments beneath their dignity shall we, in Utica, fight for the liberty of Rome with a man against whom Cato and Pompey the Great durst not make a stand in Italy? Shall we enfranchise our slaves to oppose Caesar, who have no more liberty ourselves than that conqueror is pleased to leave us? Ah! wretches that we are! Let us at last know ourselves and send deputies to inter- cede with him for mercy." This was the lan- guage of the most moderate among the three hundred: but the greatest part of them lay in wait for the patricians, thinking, if they could seize upon them, they should more easily make their peace with Caesar. Cato suspected the change, but made no remonstrances against it; he only wrote to Scipio and Juba, to keep at a dis- tance from Utica, because the three hundred were not to be depended upon. In the meantime a considerable body of caval- ry, who had escaped out of the battle, approached Utica, and dispatched three men to Cato, though they could come to no unanimous resolution. For some were for joining Juba, some Cato, and others were afraid to enter Utica. This account being brought to Cato, he ordered Marcus Rubri- us to attend to the business of the three hundred, and quietly to take down the names of such as offered to set free their slaves, without pretend- ing to use the least compulsion. Then he went out of the town, taking the senators with him, to a conference with the principal officers of the cavalry. He entreated their officers not to aban- don so many Roman senators; nor to choose Juba, rather than Cato, for their general; but to join, and mutually contribute to each other's safety by entering the city, which was impregnable in point f strength, and had provisions and everything necessary for defense for many years. The sen- ators seconded this application with prayers and tears. The officers went to consult the troops nnder their command; and Citto, with the sen- ators, sat down upon one of the mounds to wail their answer. At that moment Rubrius came up in great fury inveighing against the three hundred, who, he said, behaved in a very disorderly manner, anr were raising commotions in the city. Upon this many of the senators thought their conditior desperate, and gave into the utmost, expressions of grief. But Cato endeavored to encourug them, and requested the three hundred to have patience. Nor was there anything moderate in the pro- posals of the cavalry. The answer from therr was "That they had no desire to be in the pay of Juba; nor did they fear Caesar, while they shouK have Cato for their general; but to be shut up with Uticans, Phoenicians, who would change witf the wind, was a circumstance which they coulc not bear to think of; for," said they, "if they are quiet now, yet when Caesar arrives, they will be- tray us and conspire our destruction. Whoever therefore, desires us to range under his banners there, must first expel the Uticans, or put them to the sword, and then call us into a place clear of enemies and barbarians." These proposals appeared to Cato extremely barbaros and savage: however, he mildly answered, "That he would talk with the three hundred about them." Then, entering the city again, he applied to that set of men, who now no longer, out of reverence to him, dissembled or palliated their designs. They openly expressed their resentment that any citi- zens should presume to lead them against Caesar, with whom all contest was beyond their power and their hopes. Nay, some went so far as to say, "That the senators ought to be detained in the town until Caesar came." Cato let this pass as if he heard it not; and, indeed, he was a little deaf. But being informed that the cavalry were marching off, he was afraid that the three hun- dred would take some desperate step with respect to the senators; and he therefore went in pursuit of them with his friends. As he found they were got under march, he rode after them. It was with pleasure they saw him approach; and they exhorted him to go with them, and save his life with theirs. On this occasion, it is said that Cato shed tears, while he interceded with extended hands in behalf of the senators. He even turned the heads of some of their horses, and laid hold of their armor, until he prevailed with them to stay, at least, that day, to secure the retreat of the senators. When he came back with them, and had com- mitted the charge of the gates to some, and the citadel to others, the three hundred were under great apprehensions of being punished for their inconstancy, and sent to beg of Cato, by all means, to come and speak to them. But the senators would not suffer him to go. They said they would never let their guardian and deliverer come into the hands of such perfidious and trai- torous men. It was now, indeed, that Cato's virtue appeared to all ranks of men in Utica in the clearest light, and commanded the highest love and admiration. Nothing could be more evident than that the most perfect integrity was the guide of his actions. He had long resolved to put an end to his being, and yet he submitted to inexpressible labors, cares, and conflicts, for others; that, after he had secured their lives, he might re- linquish his own. For his intentions in that respect were obvious enough, though he endeavor- ed to conceal them. Therefore, after having satisfied the senators as well as he could, he went alone to wait upon the three hundred. " They thanked him for the favor, and entreated him to trust them and make use of their services; but as they were not Catos, nor had Cato's dignity of mind, they hoped he would pity their weakness. They told him they had re- solved to send deputies to Coesar, to intercede first and principally for Cato. If that request should not be granted, they would have no obligation to him for any favor to themselves; but as long as they had breath, would fight for Cato." Cato made his acknowledgments for their regard, arid advised them to send immediately to intercede for themselves. "For me, "said he, "intercede not. It is for the conquered to turn suppliants, and for those who have done an injury to beg pardon. For my part, I have been unconquered through life, and superior in the things I wished to be; for in justice and honor I am Caasar's superior. Ceesar is the vanquished, the falling man, being now clearly convicted of those designs against hia country which he had long denied." After he had thus spoken to the three hundred, 512 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ho left them; and being informed that Caesar was already on his march to Utica, " Strange!" said lie, "it seems he takes as for men." He then went to the senators, and desired them to hasten their flight while the cavalry remained. He like- wise shut all the gates, except that which leads to i the sea; appointed ships for those who were to depart; provided for good order in the town; re- dressed grievances; composed disturbances, and furnished all who wanted with the necessary pro- visions for the voyage. About this time Marcus Octavius* approached the place with two legions; and, as soon us he had encamped, sent to desire Cato to settle with him the business of the com- mand. Cato gave the messenger no answer, but turning to his friends, said, " Need we wonder that our cause has not prospered, when we retain our ambition on the very brink of ruin?" In the meantime, having intelligence that the cavalry at their departure, were taking the goods of the Uticans as a lawful prize, he hastened up to them, and snatched the plunder out of the hands of the foremost: upon which they all threw down what they had got, and retired in silence, dejected and ashamed. He then assembled the Ut.oans, and applied to them in behalf of the three hundred, desiring them not to exasperate Caesar against those Romans, but to act in concert with them, and consult each other's safety. After which he returned to the sea-side to look upon the em- barkation: and such of his friends and acquain- tances as he could persuade to go, he embraced and dismissed, with great marks of affection. His son was not willing to go with the rest, and he thought it was not right to insist on his leaving a father he was so fond of. There was one Statyllius,f a young man, who affected a firmness of resolution ahove his years, and, in all respects, studied to appear like Cato, superior to passion. As this young man's enmity to Csesar was well known, Cato desired him by all means to take ship witli the rest; and when he found him bent upon stay- ing, he turned to Apollonides the Stoic, and De- metrius the Peripatetic, and said, " It is your busi- ness to reduce this man's extravagance of mind, and to make him see what is for his good." He now dismissed all except such as had business of importance with him; and upon these he spent that night and great part of the day following. Lucius Caesar, a relation of the conqueror, who intended to intercede for the three hundred, de- sired Cato to assist him in composing a suitable speech. "And for you," said he, " I shall think it an honor to become the most humble suppliant, and even to throw myself at his feet." Cato, however, would not suffer it: "If I choose to be indebted," said he, "to Cresar for rny life, I ought to go in person, and without any mediator; but I will not have any obligation to a tyrant in a busi- ness by which he subverts the laws. And he does subvert the laws, by saving, as a master, those over whom he has no right of authority. Never- theless, we will consider, if you please, how to make your application most" effectual in behalf of the three hundred." After he had spent some time' with Lucius Ccesar upon this affair, he recommended his sou and friends to his protection, conducted him little on his way, and then took his leave, and re- tired to his own house. His son and the rest of his friends being assembled there, he discoursed * The same who commanded Pompey's fleet. f This brave young Roman was the same who, after the attle of Philippi, went through the enemy, to inquire into ihe condition of Brutus's camp, and was s'lain in his return y Caesar's soliliers. with them a considerable time; and, among other things, charged the young man to take no share in the administration. " For the state of affairs," said he, ' is such, that it is impossible for you to fill any office in a manner worthy of Cato; and to do it otherwise would be unworthy of yourself." In the evening he went to the bath; where, be- thinking himself of Statyllius, he called out aloud to Apollonides, and said, "Have you taken down the pride of that young man? and is he gone with- out bidding us farewell?" "No, indeed," answer- ed the philosopher, " we have taken a great deal of pains with him; but he continues as lofty and resolute as ever; he says he will stay, and certainly follow your conduct." Cato then smiled, and said, " That will soon be seen." After bathing, he went to supper, with a large company, at which he sat, as he had always done since the battle of Pharsalia; for (as we observed above) he never now lay down except to sleep. All his friends, and the magistrates of Utica, sup- ped with him. After supper, the wine was sear- soned with much wit and learning; and many questions in philosophy were proposed and dis- cussed. In the course of the conversation, they came to the paradoxes of the stoics (for so their maxims are commonly called), and to this in par- ticular, " That the good man only is free, and all bad men are slaves."* The Peripatetic, in pur- suance of his principles, took up the argument against it. Upon which Cato attacked him with great warmth, and in a louder and more vehement accent than usual, carried on a most spirited dis- course to a considerable length. From the tenor of it, the whole company perceived he had deter- mined to put an end to his being, to extricate himself from the hard conditions on which he was to hold it. As he found a deep and melancholy silence the consequence of his discourse, he endeavored to recover the spirits of his guests, and to remove their suspicions, by talking of their present affairs^ and expressing his fears both for his friends and partisans who were upon their voyage; and for those who had to make their way through dry deserts, and a barbarous country. After the entertainment was over, he took his usual evening walk with his friends and gave the officers of the guards such orders as the occasion required, and then retired to his chamber. The extraordinary ardor with which he embraced his son and his friends at this parting, recalled all their suspicions. He lay down and began to read Plato's book on the immortality of the soul: bul before he had gone through with it, he looked up, and took notice that his sword was not at the head of his bed, where it used to hang; for his son had taken it away while he was at supper. He, therefore, called his servant and asked him, who had taken away his sword? As the servant made no answer, he returned to his book; and, after a while, without any appearance of haste or hurry, as if it was only by accident that he called for the sword, he ordered him to bring it. The servant still delayed to bring it, and he had patience until he had read out his book: but then he called his servants one by one, and in a louder tone demand- ed his sword. At last he struck one of them such a blow on the mouth that he hurt his own handf and growing more angn 7 , and raising his voice still higlier, he cried, " I am betrayed and deliver- ed naked to my enemy by my son and my * This was not the sentiment of the stoics only, *rtrl Socrates. CATO THE YOUNGER. 513 ervants." His son then ran in with his friends, and tenderly embracing him, had recourse to tears and entreaties. But Cato rose up, and, with a stern and awful look, thus expressed himself: "When and where did I show any signs of distraction, that nobody offers to dissuade me from any purpose that I may seem to be wrong in, but I must be hindered from pursuing my resolutions, thus dis- armed? And you, young man, why do not you bind your father? bind his hands behind his back, that when Caesar comes, he may find me -utterly incapable of resistance? As to a sword, I have no need of it to ciispatch myself; for if I do but hold my breath awhile, or dash my head against the wall, it will answer the purpose as well." Upon his speaking in this manner, the young man went out of the chamber weeping, and with him all the rest, except Demetrius and Apol- lonides. Tot.iese philosophers he addressed him- self in a milder tone. "Are you also determined to make a man of my age live whether he will or no? And do you sit here in silence to watch me? Or do you bring any arguments to prove, that now Cato has no hopes from any other quarters, it is no dishonor to beg mercy of his enemy? Why do not you begin a lecture to inform me better, that, dismissing the opinions in which you and I have lived, we may, through Csesar's means, grow wiser, and so have a still greater obligation to him ? As yet I have determined nothing with respect to myself; but I ought to have it in my power to put my purpose iu execution, when J have formed it. And, indeed, 1 shall, in some mea- sure, consult with you, for I shall proceed in my deliberations upon the principles of your philo- sophy. Be satisfied then, and go tell my son, if persuasion will not do, not to have recourse to constraint." They made no answer, but went out; the tears fulling from their eyes as tiiey withdrew. The sword was sent in by a little boy. He drew and examined it, and finding the point alid the ecige good, "Now," said he, "I am master of myself." Then laying down the sword, he took up the book again, and, it is said, he perused the whole twice.* After which, he slept so sound that he was heard by those who were in waiting Without. About midnight he called for two of his freed me a, Cleanthes the physician, and Butas, whom he generally employed about public busi- ness. The latter he sent to the port, to see whether all the Romans had put off to sea, and bring him word. In the meantime he ordered the physician to dress his hand, which was inflamed by' the blow he had given his servant. This was some con- solation to the whole house, for now they thought ne had dropped his design against his life. SQOH after this Butas returned, and informed him that they were all got off' except Crassus, who ha'd been detained by some business, but that he in- tended to embark very soon, though the wind blew hard, and the sea was tempestuous. Cato, at this news, sighed in pity of his iriends at sea, , Md sent Butas again, that if any of them hap- pcyed to have put back, and should be in want of anything, he might acquaint him with it. By this time the birds began to sing, and Cato fell again into a little slumber. Butas, at his re- turn, told him, all was quiet in the harbor; upon which Cato ordered him to shut the door, having lirst stretched himself on the bed, as if he designed to sleep out the rest of the night. But after Butas Yet this very dialogue condemns suicide in the stron terms. 33 was gone, he drew his sword, and stabbed himself under the breast. However, he could not strike hard enough on account of the inflammation in his hand, and therefore did not presently expire, but in the struggle with death fell from the bed, and threw down a little geometrical table that stood by. The noise alarming the servants, they cried out. and his son and his friends immediately enter- ed the room. They found him weltering in his blood, and his bowels fallen out; and at the same time he was alive and looked upon them. They were struck with inexpressible horror. The phy- sician approached to examine the wound, and finding the bowels uninjured, he put them up, and began to sew up the wound. But as soon as Cato came a little to himself, he thrust away the phy- sician, tore open the wound, plucked out his own bowels, and immediately expired. la less time than one would think all the family could be informed of this sad event, the three hundred were at the door; and a little after, all the people of Utica thronged about it, with one voice calling him " their benefactor, their savior, the only free and unconquered man." This they did, though, at the same time, they had intelli- gence that Caesar was approaching. Neither fear, nor the flattery of the conqueror, nor the factioua disputes that prevailed among themselves, could divert them from doing honor to Cato. They adorned the body in a magnificent manner, and, after a splendid procession, buried it near the sea; where now stands his statue, with a sword in the right hand. This great business over, they began to tak-5 measures for saving themselves and their city. Caesar had been informed by persons who went to surrender themselves, that Cato remained in Utica, without any thoughts of flight; that he provided for the escape of others, indeed, but that himself, with his friends and his son lived there without any appearance of fear or apprehension. Upon these circumstances he could form no probable conjecture. However, as it was a great point with him to get Cato into his hands, he advanced to the place with his army with all possible expedition And when he had intelligence of Cato's death, h is reported to have uttered this short sentence, "Cato, I envy thee thy death, since thou couldst envy me the glory of saving thy life." Indeed, if Cato had deigned to owe his life to Caesar, he would not so much have tarnished his own honor as have added to that of the conqueror. What might have been the event is uncertain; but, in all probability, Ca?sar would have inclined to the merciful side. Cato died at the age of forty-eight. His son suffered nothing from Cresar; but, it is said, he was rather immoral, and that he was censured for his conduct with respect to women. In Cappa- docia he lodged at the house of Marphadates, one of the royal family, who had a very handsome wife; and as he staid there a longer time than de- cency could warrant, such jokes as these were passed upon him: "Cato goes the morrow after the thirtieth day of the month" "JPorcius and Marphadates are two friends who have but one soul; 1 ' for the wife of Marphadates was named Pscyche, which signifies souL "Cato is a great and generous man, and has a royal soul." Never- theless, he wiped off all aspersions by his death; for, fighting at Philippi against Octavius Ca?sar and Antony, in the cause of liberty, after his party gave way, he disdained to fly. Instead of slipping out of the action, he challenged the enemy to try their strength with Cato! he animated sn-eh of itia 514 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. troops as had stood their ground, and fell acknow- ledged by his adversaries as a prodigy of valor. Cato's daughter was much more admired for her virtues. She was not inferior to her father either in prudence or in fortitude; for being mar- ried to Brutus, who killed Caesar, she was trusted with the secret of the conspiracy, and put a period to her life in a manner worthy of her birth and of her virtue, as we have related in the life of Brutus. As for Statyllius, who promised to imitate the pattern of Cato, he would have dispatched himself soon after him, but was prevented by the phi- losophers. He approved himself afterward to Brutus a faithful and able officer, and fell in the battle of Philippi. AGIS. IT is not without appearance of probability that some think the fable of Ixion designed to repre- sent the fate of ambitious men. Ixion took a cloud instead of Juno to his arms, and the Cen- taurs were the offspring of their embrace; the ambitious embrace honor, which is only the image of virtue; and, governed by different impulses, ac- tuated by emulation and all the different variety of passions, they produce nothing pure and genuine: the whole issue is of a preposterous kind. The shepherds in Sophocles say of their flocks, These are our subjects, yet we serve them, And listen to their mute command. The same may be truly affirmed of those great statesmen who govern according to the capricious and violent inclinations of the people. They be- come slaves, to gain the name of magistrates and rulers. As in a ship those at the oar can see what is before them better than the pilot, and yet are often looking back to him for orders; so they who take their measures of administration only with a view to popular applause, are called governors indeed, but, in fact, are no more than slaves of the people. The complete, the honest statesman has no farther regard to the public opinion than as the confidence it gains him facilitates his designs, and crowns them with success. An ambitious young man may be allowed, indeed, to value himself upon his great and good actions, and to expect his portion of fame.. For virtues, as Theophrastus says, when they first begin to grow in persons of that age and disposition, are cherished and strengthened by praise, and afterward increase in proportion as the love of glory increases. But an immoderate p;ission for fame, in ail affairs, is dan- gerous, and in political matters destructive: for, joined to great authority, this passion drives all that are possessed with it into folly and madness, while they no longer think that glorious which is good, but account whatever is glorious to be also good and honest. Therefore, as Phocion said to Antipater, when he desired something of him in- consistent with justice, You cannot have Pho- cion for your friend and flatterer too;" this, or something like it, should be said to the multitude; " You cannot have the same man both for your governor and your slave:" for that would be no more than exemplifying the fable of the servant. The tail, it seems, one day, quarreled with the head, and, instead of being forced always to fol- low, insisted that it should lead in its turn. Ac- cordingly, the tail undertook the charge, and, as it moved forward at all adventures, it tore itself in a terrible manner: and the head, which was thus obliged, against nature, to follow a guide that could neither see nor hear, suffered likewise in its turn. We see many under the same predicament, whose objeet is popularity in all the steps of theii administration. Attached entirely to the capri- cious multitude, they produce such disorders as they can neither redress nor restrain. These observations on popularity were suggest- ed to us by considering the effects of it in the misfortunes of Tiberius and Caius Gracchus. In point of disposition, of education, and political principles, none could exceed them; yet they were ruined, not so much by an immoderate love of glory as by a fear of disgrace, which, in its origin, was not wrong. They had been so much obliged to the people for their favor, that they were ashamed to be behind-hand with them in marks of attention. On the Contrary, by the most ac- ceptable services, they always studied to outdo the honors paid them; and being still more honored on account of those services, the affection between them and the people became at last so violent, that it forced them into a situation wherein it was in vain to say, "Since we are wrong, it would bs a shame to persist." In the course of the history these observations occur. With these two Romans let us compare two Spartan kings, Agis and Cleomenes, who were not behind him in popularity. Like the Gracchi, they strove to enlarge the privileges of the people, and by restoring the just and glorious institutions which had long fallen into disuse, they became equally obnoxious to the great, who could not think of parting with the superiority which riches gave them, and to which they had long been ac- customed. These Spartans were not, indeed, brothers ; but their actions were of the same kindred and complexion; the source of which was this: When the love of money made its way into Sparta, and brought avarice and meanness in its train on the one hand, on ihe other, profusion, effeminacy, and luxury, that state soon deviated from its original virtue, and sank into contempt until the reign of Agis and Lecnidas. Agis was of the family of Eurytion, the son of Eudanikias, the sixth in descent from Agesilaus, distinguished by his expedition into Asia, and for his eminence in Greece. Agesilaus was succeeded by his son Archidamus, who was slain by the Messapiuns at Mandonium in Italy.* Agis was the eldest son of Archidamus, and being slain at Megalopolis by Antipater, and leaving no issue, was succeeded by his brother Eudamidas. He was succeeded by another Archidamus, his son, and that prince by another Eudamidas, his son likewise, and the father of that Agis of whom we are now speaking. * We know of no such place as Mandoniitm. Probably we should read Manduriitiii, which is a city of .1 vt>yg:a, mentioned by the geographers. Ccllariu*, pa^e J 12. AGIS. t*eonidas, the son of Cieonymus, was of another branch of the family of the Agiudie, the eighth in descent from that Pausanias who conquered Mardonius at Plata;a. Pausanias was succeeded by his son Plistonax, and he by another Pausanias, who being banished to Tegea, left his kingdom to his eldest son Agesipolis. He, dying without issue, was succeeded by his brother Cleombrotus, who left two sons, Agesipolis and Cleomenes. Agesipolis, after a short reign, died without issue, and Cleomenes, who succeeded him in the king- dom, after burying his eldest son Acrotatus, left surviving another son Cieonymus, who, however, did not succeed to the kingdom, which fell to Areus the son of Acrotatus, and grandson of Cleo- menes. Areus being slain at Corinth, the crown descended to his son Acrotatus, who was defeated and killed in the battle of Megalopolis, by the tyrant Aristodemus. He left his wife pregnant; and as the child proved to be a son, Leonidas, the eon of Cieonymus, took the guardianship of him; and his charge dying in his minority, the crown fell to him. This prince was not agreeable to his people. For, though the corruption was general, and they all grew daily more and more depraved, yet Leonidas was more remarkable than the rest for his deviation from the customs of his ancestors. He had long Aeen conversant in the courts of the Asiatic princes, particularly in that of Seleucus, and he had the indiscretion to introduce the pomp of those courts into a Grecian state, and into a king- dom where the laws were the rules of government. Agis far exceeded not only him, but almost all the kings who reigned before him since the great Agesilaus, in goodness of disposition and dignity of mind. For, though brought up in the greatest affluence, and in all the indulgence that might be expected from female tuition, under his mother Agesistrata, and his grandmother Archidamia, who were the richest persons iu Lacedrernonia, yet be- fore he reached the age of twenty, "he Declared war against pleasure; and, to prevent any vanity which the beauty of his person might have sug- gested, he discarded all unnecessary ornament and expense, and constantly appeared in a plain Lace- daemonian cloak. In his diet, his bathing, and in all his exercises, he kept close to the Spartan simplicity, and he often used to say that the crown was no further an object of desire to him, than as it might enable him to restore the laws aud ancient discipline of his country. The first symptoms of corruption and distem- per in their commonwealth appeared at the time when the Spartans had entirely destroyed the Athenian empire, and began to bring gold and silver into Lacedaemon. Nevertheless, the Agra- rian law established by Lycurgus, still subsisting, and the lots of land descending undiminished from father to son order and equality in some measure remained, which prevented other errors from being fatal. But Epitadeus, a man of great authority in Sparta, though at the same time factious and ill-natured, being appointed one of the ephori, and having a quarrel with his son, procured a law that all men should have liberty to alienate* their estates in their lifetime, or to leave them to whom they pleased at their death. It was to indulge his private resentment, that this man proposed the decree, which others ac- cepted and confirmed from a motive of avarice, and thus the best institution in the world was It was good policy in the kings of England and France to procnre laws empowering the nobility to alienate their estates, and, by that means, to reduce their power; tor the notiih'.y, in tho^e tiree*, were no belter than so many petty tyrants. abrogated. Men of fortune now extended their landed estates without bounds, not scrupling la exclude the right heirs; and property quickly coming into a few hands, the rest of the people were poor and miserable. The latter found no time or opportunity for liberal arts and exercises, being obliged to drudge in mean and mechanic em- ployments for their bread, and consequently look- ing with envy and hatred on the rich. There re- mained not above seven hundred of the old Spar- tan families, of which, perhaps, one hundred had estates in land. The rest of the city was filled with an insignificant rabble without property or honor, who had neither heart nor spirit to defend their country against wars abroad, and who were always watching an opportunity for changes and revolutions at home. For these reasons Agis thought it a noble un- dertaking, as in fact it was, to bring the citizens again to an equality, and by that means to replen- ish Sparta with respectable inhabitants. For this purpose he sounded the inclinations of his sub- jects. The young men listened to him with a readiness far beyond iiis expectation: they adopt- ed the cause of virtue with him, and, for the sake of liberty, changed their manner of living, with as little objection as they would have changed their apparel. But most of the old men, being far gone in corruption, were as much afraid of the name of Lycurgus as a fugitive slave, when brought back, is of that of his master. They inveighed, therefore, against Agis for lamenting the present state of things, and desiring to restore the ancient dignity of Sparta. On the other hand, Lysander, the son of Libys, Mandroclidas the son of Ecphanes, and Agesilaus, not only came into his glorious designs, but co-operated with them. Lysander had great reputation and authority among the Spartans. No man understood the interests of Greece better than Mandroclidas, and with his shrewdness and capacity he had a proper mixture of spirit. As for Agesilaus, he was uncle to the king, and a man of great eloquence, but at the same time effeminate and avaricious. However, he was animated to this enterprise by his son Hippornedon, who had distinguished him- self in many wars, and was respectable on ac- count of the attachment of the Spartan youth to his person. It must be acknowledged, indeed, that the thing which really persuaded Agesilaus to embark in the design was the greatness of his debts, which he hoped would be cleared off by a change in the constitution. As soon as Agis had gained him, he endeav- ored, with his assistance, to bring his own mother into the scheme. She was sister to Agesilaus, and by her extensive connections, her wealth, and the number of people who owed her money, had great influence in Sparta, and a considerable share in the management of public affairs. Upon the first intimation of the thing, she was quite astonished at it, and dissuaded the young man as much as possible, from measures which she look- ed upon as neither practicable nor salutary. But Agesilaus showed her that they might easily be brought to bear, and that they would prove of the greatest utility to the state. The young prince, too, entreated his mother to sacrifice her wealth to the advancement of his glory, and to indulge his laudable ambition. "It is impossible," said he, "for me ever to vie with other kings in point of opulence. The domestics of an Asiatic grandee, nay, the servants of the stewards of Ptolemy and Seleucus were richer than all the Spartan kings put together. But if by sobriety 516 PLUTARCH'S LIVE?. by simplicity of provision for the body, and by greatness of rniud, I can do something which shall far exceed all their pomp and luxury, I mean the making an equal partition of property among all the citizens, I shall really become a great king, and have all the honor that such actions demand." This address changed the opinions of the wo- men. They entered into the young man's glori- ous views; they caught the flame of virtue, as it were, by inspiration, and, in their turn, hastened Agis to put his scheme in execution. They seat for their friends, and recommended the af- fair to them; for they knew that the Lacedemo- nians, always hearken to their wives, and that the women are permitted to intermeddle more with public business than the men are with the domes- tic. This, indeed, was the principal obstruction to Agis's enterprise. Great part of the wealth of Sparta was now in the hands of the women; consequently they opposed the reformation, not only because they knew they must forfeit those gratifications in which their deviation from the severer paths of sobriety had brought them to place their happiness; but because they saw they must also lose that honor and power which follow property. They therefore applied to Leonidas, the other king, and desired him, as the older man, to put a stop to the projects of Agis. Leonidas was inclined to serve the rich; but as he feared the people, who were desirous of the change, he did not oppose it. openly. Privately, however, he strove to blast the design, by ap- plying to the magistrates, and invidiously repre- sented, "That Agis offered the poor a share in the estates of the rich, as the price of absolute power; and that the distribution of lands, and canceling of debts, were only means 1o purchase guards for uimself, not citizens for Sparta." A.gis, however, having interest to get Lysander elected one of the ephori, took the opportunity to propose his rhetra to the senate; according to which, "Debtors were to be released from their obligations; and lands to be divided in the follow- ing manner: those that lay between the valley of Pellene and mount Taygetus, as far as Malea and Sellasia, were to be distributed in four thou- sand five hundred equal lots; fifteen thousand lots were to be made of the remaining territory, which should be shared among the neighboring inhabitants who were able to bear arms: as to what lay within the limits first mentioned, Spar- tans were to have the preference; but if their number fell short, it should be made up out of strangers who were unexceptionable in point of person, condition, and education. These were to be divided into fifteen companies, some of four hundred, some of two hundred, who were to eat together, and keep to the diet and discipline en- joined by the laws of Lycurgus." The decree thus proposed in the senate, and the members differing in their opinions upon it, Lysander summoned an assembly of the people; and he, with Mandroclidas and Agesilaus, in their discourse to the citizens, entreated them not to suffer the few to insult the many, or to see with unconcern the majesty of Sparta trodden under foot. They desired them to recollect the ancient oracles which bade them beware of the love of money, as a vice the most ruinous to Sparta; as well as the late answer from the temple of Pasiphae, which gave them the same warn- ing. For Pasiphae had a temple and oracle at Tiialamiae.* Some say this Pasiphae was one of Those who consulted this oracle lay down to sleep in the temple, and the goddess revealed to them the object of their inquiries in adream. Cic. de Liv 1. 1 the daughters of A*Ja3, who had by Jupiter, son named Amiiion. Others suppose her to bd assandra,* the daughter of Priam, who died at thft place, and might have the name of Pasiphee, from her answering the questions of all that con- sulted her. But Phylarchus says, she was no other than Daphne, the daughter of Amyclas, who flying from the solicitations of Apollo, was turned into a laurel, and afterward honored by that deity with the gift of prophesy. Be this as t may, it was affirmed that her oracle had cc-n- manded all the Spartans to return to the equality which the laws of Lycurgus originally enjoined. Last of all, king Agis entered the assembly, and, after a short speech, declared, that he would contribute largely to the institution he recom- nended. He would first give up to the commu- ity his own great estate, consisting of arable and pasture land, and of six hundred talents in noney: then his mother and grandmother, all hia relations and friends, who were the richest per- sons in Sparta, would follow rjs example. The people were astonished at the magnificence of the young man's proposal, and rejoiced that now, after the space of three hundred years, they had at last found a king worthy of Sparta. Upon this, Leonidas began openly and vigorously to oppose the new regulations. He considered that he should be obliged to do the same with his colleague, without finding the same acknow- ledgments from the people; that all would be equally under the necessity of giving up their fortunes, and that he who first set the example would alone reap the honor. He therefore de- manded of Agis, "Whether he thought Lycurgua a just and good man?" Agis answering in the affirmative, Leonidas thus went on: "But did Lycurgus ever order just debts to be canceled, or bestow the freedom of Sparta upon strangers? Did he not rather think his commonwealth could not be in a salutary state, except strangers were entirely excluded?" Agis replied, "He did not wonder that Leonidas, who was educated in a foreign country, and had children by an inter- marriage with a Persian family, should be igno- rant that Lycurgus, in banishing money, banished both debts and usury from Lacedsemon. As for strangers, he excluded only those who were not likely to conform to his institutions, or fit to class with his people. For he did not dislike them merely as strangers; his exceptions were to their manners and customs, and he was afraid that by mixing with his Spartans, they would infect them with their luxury,effeminacy, and avarice. Ter- pander, Thales, and Pherecydes, were strangers, yet because their poetry and philosophy moved in concert with the maxims of Lycurgus, they were held in great honor at Sparta. Even you commend Ecprepes, who, when he was one of the ephori, retrenched the two strings which Phrynis, the musician, had added to the seven of the harp; you commend those who did the same by Tirnotheus;f and yet you complain of our * Pausanis would incline one to think that this was the goddess Ino. '-On the road between Octylus and Thala- mia," says he, "is the temple of Ino. It is the custom of those who consult her to sLeep in the temple, and wha they want to know is revealed to them in a dream. In th court of the temple are two statues of brass, one of Paphiai, [it ought to be Pasiphoc], the other of the sun. That which is in the temple is o covered with garlands and nl- ' leu, thiit it is not to be seen; but it is said to be of brass." tTimotheus the Milesian, a cejebrafed Dithyrambic poet and musician. He added even a twelfth string to the harp, for which he was severely punished by the sage Ppartans, who concluded that luxury of sound would effemi- nate the people. AGIS. 51V mtention to banish superfluity, pride, and luxury from Sparta. Do you think that in retrenching the swelling and supernumerary graces of music they had no farther view, and that they were not afraid the excess and disorder would reach the lives and manners of the people, and destroy the harmony of the state?" From this time the common people followed Agis. But the rich entreated Leonidas not to give up their cause; and they exerted their interest so effectually with the senate, whose chief power lay in previously determining what laws should be proposed to the people, that they carried it against the rhetra by a majority of one. Lysander, how- ever, being yet in office, resolved to prosecute Leoni- das upon an ancient law, which forbids every de- scendant of Hercules to have children by a woman thut is a stranger, and makes it capital for a Spar- tan to settle iu a foreign country. He instructed others to allege these things against Leonidas, while he, with his colleagues, watched for a sign from heaven. It was the custom for the ephori every ninth year, on a clear star-light night, when there was no moon, to sit down, and in silence observe the heavens. If a star happened to shoot from one part of them to another, they pronounced the kings guilty of some crime against the gods, and suspended them until they were re-established by an oracle from Delphi or Olympia. Lysander, affirming that the sign had appeared to him, sum- moned Leonidas to his trial, and produced wit- nesses to prove that he had two children by an Asiatic woman, whom one of Seleucus's lieu- tenants had given him to wife; but that, on her conceiving a mortal aversion to him, he returned home against his will, and filled up the vacancy in the throne of Sparta. During this suit, he per- suaded Cleombrotus, son-in-law to Leonidas, and a prince of the blood, to lay claim to the crown. Leonidas, greatly terrified, fled to the altar of Minerva in the Chalciaecus,* as a suppliant; and his daughter, leaving Cleombrotus, joined him in the intercession. He was resurnmoned to the court of judicature; and as he did not appear, he was deposed, and the kingdom adjudged to Cleom- brotus. Soon after this revolution, Lysander's time ex- pired, and he quitted his office. The ephori of the ensuing year listened to the supplication of Leonidas, and consented to restore him. They likewise began a prosecution against Lysander and Mandroclidas for the canceling of debts and dis- tribution of lands, which those magistrates agreed to contrary to law. In this danger they persuaded the two kings to unite their interest, and to despise the machinations of the ephori. "These magis- trates," said they, " have no power but what they derive from some difference between the kings. In such a case they have a right to support with their suffrage the prince whose measures ai'e sa- lutary, against the other who consults not the public good; but when the kings are unanimous, nothing can overrule their determinations. To resist them is to fight against the laws. For, as we said, they can only decide between the kings in case of disagreement; when their sentiments are the same, the . ephori have no right to interpose." The kings, prevailed upon by this argument, entered the place of assembly with their friends, where they removed the ephori from their seats, and placed others in their room. Agesilaus was one of these new magistrates. They then armed n great number of the youth, and released many out of prison; upon which their adversaries were * Minerva had a temple at Sparta, entirely of brass. struck with terror, expecting that many lives would be lost; however they put not one man to the sword: on the contrary, Agis understanding that Agesilaus designed to kill Leonidas in his flight to Tegea, and had planted assassins for that purpose on the way, generously sent a part of men whom he could depend upon, to escort him, and they conducted him safely to Tegea. Thus the business went on with all the success they could desire, and they had no farther opposi- tion to encounter. But this excellent regulation, so worthy of Lacedremon, miscarried through the failure of one of its pretended advocates, the vile disease of avarice, in Agesilaus. He was possess- ed of a large and fine estate iu land, but at the same time deeply in debt; and as he was neither able to pay his debts, nor willing to part with his land, he represented to Agis, that if both his in- tentions were carried into execution at the same time, it would probably raise great commotions in Sparta, but if he first obliged the rich by the canceling of debts, they would afterward quietly and readily consent to the distribution of lands. Agesilaus drew Lysander too into the same snare. An order, therefore, was issued for bringing in all bonds (the Lacedemonians call them Claria), and they were piled together in the market-place, and burned. When the fire began to burn, the usurers and other creditors walked off in great distress. But Agesilaus, in a scoffing way, iid, " He never saw a brighter or more glorious flame." The common people demanded that the distribu- tion of lands should also be made immediately, and the kings gave orders for it; but Agesilaus found out some pretense or other for delay, until it was time for Agis to take the field in behalf of the Acha3ans, who were allies of the Spartans, and had applied to them for succors. For they expected that the ^Etolians would take the route through the territory of Megara, and enter Pelo- ponnesus. Aratus, general of the Achffiaris, as- sembled an army to prevent it, and wrote to the ephori for assistance. They immediately sent Agis upon that service; and that prince went out with the highest hopes, on account of the spirit of his men and their at- tachment to his person. They were most of them young men in very e* :fl? erent circumstances, who being now released from tl;eir debts, and expect- ing a division of lands if they returned from the war, strove to recommend themselves as much as possible to Agis. It was a most agreeable spectacle to the cities, to see them march through Pelopon- nesus without committing the least violence, and with such discipline that they were scarce heard as they passed. The Greeks said one to another, "With what excellent order and decency must the armies under Agesilaus, Lysander or 'Agesi- laus of old, have moved, when we find such exact obedience, such reverence in these Spartans to a general who is, perhaps the youngest man in the whole army." Indeed, this young prince's sim- plicity of diet, his love of labor, and his affecting no show either iu his dress or" arms above a pri- vate soldier, made all the common people, as lie passed, look upon him with pleasure and admira- tion: but his new regulations at Lacedremon dis- pleased the rich, and they were afraid that he might raise commotions everywhere among the commonalty, and put them upon following the example. After Agis had joined Aratus at Corinth, in the deliberations about meeting and fighting the ene- my he showed a proper courage and spirit, with- out any enthusiastic or irrational flights. He gave it as his opinion, " That they should givd 618 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. battle, and not suffer the war to enter the gates of Peloponnesus. He would do, however, what Aratus thought most expedient, because he was the older man, and general of the Achaaans, whom he came not to dictate to, but to assist in the war." It must be acknowledged that B;tto * of Sinope relates it in another manner. He says, Aratus was for fighting, and Agis declined it. But Bato had never met with what Aratus writes by way of apology for himself upon this point. That general tells us, "That as the husbandmen had almost finished their harvest, he thought it better to let the enemy pass, than to hazard by a battle the loss of the whole country." Therefore, when Aratus determined not to fight, and dismissed his allies with compliments on their readiness to serve him, Agis, who had gained great honor by his be- havior, marched back to Sparta, where, by this tfcne, internal troubles and changes demanded his presence. Agesilaus, still one of the ephori, and delivered from the pressure of debts which had weighed down his spirits, scrupled no act of injustice that might bring money into his coffers. He even added to the year a thirteenth month, though the proper period for that intercalation was not come, and insisted on the people's paying supernumerary taxes for that month. Being afraid, however, of revenge from those he had injured, and seeing himself hated by all the world, he thought it necessary to maintain a guard, which always at- tended him to the senate-house. As to the kings, he expressed an utter contempt for one of them, and the respect he paid the other he would have understood to be, rather on account of his being his kinsman, than his wearing the crown. Be- side, he propagated a report, that he should be one of the tphori the year followi^. His enemies, therefore, determined to hazard an immediate at- tempt against him, and openly brought back Lsonidas from Tegea, and placed him on the throne. The people ,aw it with pleasure; for they were angry at finding themselves deceived with respect to the promised distribution of lands. Agesilaus had hardly escaped their fury, had not his son Hippomedon, who was held in great es- teem by the whole city on account of his valor, interceded for his life. The kings both took sanctuary; Agis in Chal- oisecus, and Cleombrotus in the temple of Nep- tune. It was against the latter that Leonidas was most incensed; and therefore passing Agis by, he went with a party of soldiers to seize Cleombrotus, whom he reproached, in terms of resentment, with conspiring against him, though honored with his alliance, depriving him of the crown, and banishing him his country. Cleombrotus had nothing to say, but sat in the deepest distress and silence. Chelonis, the daugh- ter of Leonidas, had looked upon the injury done her father as done to herself: when Cleombrotus robbed him of the crown, she left him, to console her father in his misfortune. While he was in the sanctuary, she stayed with him, and when he retired she attended him in his flight, sympathiz- ing with his sorrow, and full of resentment against Cleombrotus. But when the fortunes of her father changed, she changed too. She joined her hus- band as a suppliant, and was found sitting by him with great marks of tenderness; and lier two children, one on each side, at her feet. The whole company were much struck at the sight, and thev could not refrain from tears when they considered *He wrote the history of Persia. her goodness of heart and such superior instance* of affection. Chelonis then pointing to her mourning habit and disheveled hair, thus addressed Leonidas> "It was not, my dear father, compassion for Cle- ombrotus which put me in this habit and gave me this look of misery. My sorrows took their date with your misfortunes and your banishment, and have ever since remained my familiar com- panions. Now you have conquered your ene- mies, and are again king of Sparta, should I still retain these ensigns of affliction, or assume fes- tival and royal ornaments while the husband of my youth, whom you gave me, falls a victim to your vengeance? If his own submission, if the tears of his wife and children cannot propitiate you, he must suffer a severer punishment for his offenses than you require: he must see his be- loved wife die before him: for how can I live and support the sight of my own sex, after both my husband and my father have refused to hearken to rny supplication when it appears that, both as a wife and a daughter, I am born to be miserable with my family? If this poor man had any plau- sible reasons for what he did, I obviated them all by forsaking him to follow you. But you furnish him with a sufficient apology for his misbehavior, by showing that a crown is so great and desirable an object, that a son-in-law must be slain, and a daughter utterly disregarded, where that is in the question." Chelonis, after this supplication, rested her cheek on her husband's head, and with an eye dim and languid with sorrow looked around on the spectators. Leonidas consulted his friends upon the point, and then commanded Cleombro- tus to rise and go into exile; but he desired Che- lonis to stay, and not leave so affectionate a father, who had been kind enough to grant her her husband's life. Chelonis, however, would not be persuaded. When her husband was risen from the ground, she put one child in his arms, and took the other herself, and after having paid due homage at the altar where they had taken sanctuary, she went with him into banishment. So that, had not Cleombrotus been corrupted with the love of false glory, he must have thought exile with such a woman a greater happiness than a kingdom without her. After Cleombrotus was thus expelled, the ephori removed, and others put in their place, Leo- nidas laid a scheme to get Agis into his power. At first, he desired him to leave his sanctuary, and resume his share in the government; "For the people," he said, "thought he might well be pardoned, as a young man ambitious of honor: and the rather, because they, as well as he, had been deceived by the craft of Agesilaus." But when he found that Agis suspected him, and chose to stay where he was, he threw off the mask of kindness. Amphares, Demochares, and Arcesi- laus used to give Agis their company, for they were his intimate friends. They likewise con- ducted him from the temple to the bath, and, after he had bathed, brought him back to the sanctuary. Amphares had lately borrowed a great deal of plate and other rich furniture of Age- sistrata, and he hoped that if he could destroy tha king and the princesses of his family, he might keep those goods as his own. On this account he is said to have first listened to the suggestions of Leonidas, and to have endeavored to bring tha ephori, his colleagues, to do the same. As Agis spent the rest of his time in the temple, and only went out to the bath, they resolved to make use of that opportunity. Therefore, ouo iay on his return, they met him with a great ap- pearance of friendship, as they conducted him on fiis way, conversed with much freedom and gay- ety, which his youth and their intimacy with him seemed to warrant. But when they came to the turning of a street which led to the prison, Am- phares, by virtue of his office, arrested him, " I take you, Agis, " said lie, "into custody, in order to your giving account to the ephori of your ad- ministration." At the same time, Demochares. who was a tall, strong man, wrapped his cloak about his head, and dragged him off. The rest, as they had previously concerted the thing, push- ed him on behind, and no one coming to his rescue or assistance, he was committed to prison. Leonidas presently came with a strong band of mercenaries, to secure the prison without: and the ephori entered it, with such senators as were of their party. They began, as in a judicial process, with demanding what he had to say in defense of his proceedings; and as the young prince only laughed at their dissimulation. Amphares told him, "They would soon make him weep for pre- gumption." Another of the ephori, seemed in- clined to put him in a way of excusing himself and getting off, asked him, "Whether Lysander and Agesilaus had not forced him into the meas- ures he took?" But Agis answered, "I was forced by no man; it was my attachment to the institu- tions of Lycurgus, and my desire to imitate him, which made rne adopt his form of government." Then the same magistrate demanded, "Whether he repented of what he had done?" and his answer was, "I shall never repent of so glorious a design, though I see death before my eyes." Upon this they passed sentence of death upon him, and commanded the officers to carry him into the decade, which is a small apartment in the prison where they strangle malefactors. But the officers durst not touch him, and the very mercenaries declined it, for they thought it impious to lay vio- lent hands on a king. Demochares, seeing this, loaded them with reproaches, and threatened to punish them. At the same time he laid hold on Agis himself, and thrust him into the dungeon. By this time it was generally known that Agis was taken into custody, *and there was a great con- course of people at the prison gates with lanterns and torches. Among the numbers who resented these proceedings were the mother and grand- mother of Agis, crying out and begging that the king might be heard and judged by the people in full assembly. But this, instead of procuring him a respite hastened his execution; for they were afraid he would be rescued in the night, if the tumult should increase. As Agis was going to execution, he perceived one of the officers lamenting his fate with tears; upon which, he said, "My friend, dry up your tears; for, as I suffer innocently, I arn in a better AGIS. 519 condition than those who condemn me contrary to law and justice." So saying, he cheerfully offered his neck 10 the executioner. Amphares then going to the gate, Agesistrata threw herself at his feet, on account of their long intimacy and friendship. He raised her from the ground, and told her, "No farther vio- lence should be offered her son, nor should he now have any hard treatment." He told her, too, she might go in and see her son, if she pleased. She desired that her mother might be admitted with her, and Amphares assured her, there would be no objection. When he had let them in, he commanded the gates to be locked again, and Archidamia to be first introduced. She was very old, and had lived in great honor and esteem, among the Spartans. After she was put to death, he ordered Agesistrata to walk in. She did so, and beheld her son extended on the ground, and her mother hanging by the neck. She assisted the officers in taking Archidamia down, placed the body by that of Agis, and wrapped it decent- ly up. Then embracing her son and kissing him, she said, "My son, thy too great moderation, len- ity, and humanity, have ruined both thee and us." Amphares, who from the door saw and heard all that passed, went up in great fury to Agesistrata, and said, "If you approved your son's actions, you shall also have his reward." She rose up to meet her fate, and said, with a sigh for her coun- try, "May all this be for the good of Sparta!" When these events were reported in the city, and the three corpses carried out, the terror the sad scene inspired was not so great but that the people openly expressed their grief and indigna- tion, and their hatred of Leonidas and Amphares. For they were persuaded that there had not been such a train of villanous and impious actions at Sparta, since the Dorians first inhabited Pelopon- nesus. The majesty of the kings of Sparta had been held in such veneration even by their ene- mies, that they had scrupled to strike them when they had opportunity for it in battle. Hence it was, that in the many actions between the Lace- daemonians and other Greeks, the former had lost only their king Cleornbrotus, who fell by a javelin at the battle of Leuctra a little before the time of Philip of Macedon. As for Theopompus, who, as the Messenians affirm, was slain by Aristom- enes, the Lacedaemonians deny it, and say he was only wounded. That, indeed, is a matter of some dispute: but it is certain that Agis was the first king of Lacedremon put to death by the epftori: and that he suffered only for engaging in an en- terprise that was truly glorious and worthy of Sparta; though he was of an age at which even errors are considered as pardonable. His friends had more reason to complain of him than his enemies, for saving Leonidas, and trusting his associates in tho undesigning generosity and goodness of his heart. 520 PLUTAKCH'S LIVES CLEOMENES. AFTER Agis was put to death, Leonidas intend- ed the same fate for his brother Archidarnus; but that prince saved himself by a timely retreat. However, his wife Agiatis, who was newly brought to bed, was forced by the tyrant from her own house, and given to his son Cleomenes. Cleomenes was not quite come to years of ma- turity, but his father was not willing that any other man should have the lady; for she was daughter to Gylippus, and heiress to his great estate; and in beauty, as well as happiness of temper and conduct, superior to all the women of Greece. She left nothing unattempted, to pre- vent her being forced into this match, but found all her efforts ineffectual. Therefore, when she was married to Cleomenes, she made him a good and affectionate wife, though she hated his father. Cleomeues was passionately fond of her from the first, and his attachment to his wife made him sympathize with her on the mournful remem- brance of Agis. He would often ask her for the history of that unfortunate prince, and listen with great attention to her account of his sentiments and designs. Cleomenes was ambitious of glory, and had a native greatness of mind. Nature had, moreover, disposed him to temperance and simplicity of manners, as much as Agis; but he had not his calmness and moderation. His spirit had an ardor in it; and there was an impetuosity in his pursuits of honor, or whatever appeared to him under that character. He thought it most glori- ous to reign over a willing people; but, at the same time, he thought it not inglorious to subdue their reluctances, and bring them against their inclina- tions into what was good and salutary. He was not satisfied with the prevailing man- ners and customs of Sparta. He saw that ease and pleasure were the great objects with the peo- ple; that the king paid but little regard to public concerns, and if nobody gave him any disturb- ance, chose to spend his time in the enjoyments of affluence and luxury; that individuals, entirely actuated by self-interest, paid no attention to the business of the state, any further than they could turn it to their own emolument. And what ren- dered the prospect still more melancholy, it ap- peared dangerous lo make any mention of train- iug the youth to strong exercises and strict tem- perance, to persevering fortitude and universal equality, since the proposing of these things cost Agis hislife. It is said too, that Cleomenes was instructed in philosophy, at a very early period of life, by Sphaerus the Borysthenite,* who came to Lacedse- mon, and taught the youth with great diligence and success. Sphaerus was one of the principal disciples of Zeno the Citeau,t and it seems that 'This SphEcrus was born toward the end of the reign of Ptolemy Philadelphus, and flourished under that of Euer- getes. Diogenes Laertin* has given us a catalogue of his works, which were con.-iderable. He was the scholar of Zeno, and afterward of Cleanthus. tHe was so called to distinguish him from Zeno of Elea, a city of Laconia, who flourished about two hundred years after" the death of Zeno the Citean. Citium, of which the elder Zeno wa* a native, was a town in Cyprus. he admired that strength of genius he found in Cleomenes, and added fresh incentives to his love of glory. We are informed, that when Leonidas of old was asked, "What he thought of the poetry of Tyrtaeus?" lie said, "I think it well calculated to excite the courage of our youth; for the enthu- siasm with which it inspires them makes them fear no danger in battle." So the stoic philoso- phy* may put persons of great and fiery spirits upon enterprises that are too desperate; but, in those of a grave and mild disposition, it will pro- duce all the good effects for which it was designed. When Leonidas died, and Cleomenes came to the crown, he observed that tJl ranks of men were utterly corrupted. The rich had an eye only to private profit and pleasure, and utterly neglected the public interest. The common peo- ple, on account of the meanness of their circum- stances, had no spirit for war, or ambition to instruct their children in the Spartan exercises. Cleomenes himself had only the name of king, while the power was in the hands of the ephori. He, therefore, soon began to think of changing the present posture of affairs. He had a friend called Xenares, united to him by such an affection as the Spartans called inspiration. Him he first sounded; inquiring of him what kind of prince Agis was; by what steps, and with what associ- ates, he came into the way he took. Xenares at first consented readily enough to satisfy his curi- osity, and gave him an exact narrative of the pro- ceedings. But when he found that Cleomenes interested himself deeply in the affair, and took such an enthusiastic pleasure in the new schemes of Agis, as to desire to hear them again and again, he reproved his distempered inclinations, and at last entirely left his company. However, he did not acquaint any one with the cause of their misunderstanding; but only said, "Cleome- nes knew very well." As Xenares so strongly opposed the king's project, he thought others must be as little disposed to come into it; -and therefore he concerted the whole matter by him- self. In the persuasion that he could more easily effect his intended change in time of war than of peace, he embroiled his country with the Achse- ans, who had indeed given sufficient occasion of complaint; for Aratus, who was the leading man among them, had laid it down as a principle, from the beginning of his administration, to re- duce all Peloponnesus to one body. This was the end he had in view in his numerous expedi- tions, and in all the proceedings of government, during the many years he held the reins in Achaia. And, indeed, he was of opinion, that this was the only way to secure Peloponnesus against its ene- mies without. He had succeeded with most of the states of that peninsula; the Lacedemonians and Eleans, and such of the Arcadians as were in the Lacedaemonian interest, were all that stood out. Upon the death of Leonidas, he commenced hostilities against the Arcadians, particularly those who bordered upon the Achosans; by this means designing to try how tl/.e Lacedaemonians stood *From its tendency to inspire a contempt of death &nd belief in the agency of Providence. CLEOMENES. 521 Inclined. As for Cleomenes, he despised him as a young man without experience. The ephori, however, sent Cleomenes to seize Athenaeum* near Belbina. This place is one of the keys of Laconia, and was then in dispute be- tween the Spartans and Megalopolitans. Cleo- menes accordingly took it and fortified it. Aratus made no remonstrance, but marched by night to surprise Tegea and Orchomenus. However, the persons who had promised to betray those places to him found their hearts fail thorn when they came to the point; and he retired, undiscovered as he thought. Upon this, Cleomenes wrote to him, in a familiar way, desiring to know. "Whether he marched the night before." Aratus answered, ** That, understanding his design to fortify Belbina, the intent of his last motion was to prevent that measure." Cleomenes humorously replied, " I ain satisfied with the account of your march; but should be glad to know where those torches and ladders were marching." Aratus could not help laughing at the jest; and he asked what kind of a man this young prince was? Democrates, a Lacedemonian exile, answer- ed, " If you design doing anything against the Spartans, you must do it quickly, before the spurs of this cockerel be grown." Cleomenes, with a few horse and three hundred foot, was now posted in Arcadia. The ephori, apprehensive of a war, commanded him home; and he obeyed. But finding that, in consequence of this retreat, Aratus had taken Caphyae,they order- ed him to take the field again. Cleomenes made himself master of Methydrium, and ravaged the territories of Argos. Whereupon the Achreans marched against him with twenty thousand foot and a thousand horse, under the command of Aristomachus. Cleomenes met hirn atPalantium, and offered him battle. But Aratus, intimidated by this instance of the young prince's spirit,dissua- ded the general from engaging, and retreated. This retreat exposed Aratus to reproach among the Achaeans, and to scorn and contempt among the Spartans, whose army consisted not of more than five thousand men. Cleomenes, elevated with his success, began to talk in a higher tone among the people, and bade them remember an expression of one of their ancient kings, who said, " The Lace- daemonians seldom inquired the number of their enemies, but the place where they could be found." After this, he went to the assistance of the Eleans, against whom the Acheeans had now turned their arms. He attacked the latter at Lycaeum, as they were upon the retreat, and put them entire- ly to the rout; not only spreading terror through their whole army, but killing great numbers, and making many prisoners. It was even report- ed among the Greeks, that Aratus was of the num- ber of the slain. Aratus, availing himself in the best manner of the opportunity, with the troops thai attended him in his flight, marched immediately to Mantinea, and coming upon it by surprise, took it, and secured it for the Achfbans. The Lacedaemonians, greatly dispirited at this loss, opposed Cleomenes in his inclination for war. He therefore bethought himself of calling Archi- damus, the brother of Agis, from Messene, to whom, in the other family, the crown belonged; for he imagined that the power of the ephori would not be so formidable when the kingly government, ac- cording to the Spartan constitution, was complete, nd had its proper weight in the scale. The party that had put Agis to death perceiving this, and A temple of Minerva. dreading vengeance from Archidamus, if he should be established on the throne, took this method to prevent it. They joined in inviting him to come privately to Sparta, and even assisted him in his return; but they assassinated hirn immediately after. Whether it was against the consent of Cleomenes, as Phylarchus thinks, or whether his friends persuaded him to abandon that unhappy prince, we cannot take upon us to say. The greatest part of the blame, however, fell upon those friends who, if heg;ive his consent, were supposed to have teased him into it. By this time he was resolved to carry his inten- ded changes into immediate execution, and there- fore he bribed the ephori to permit him to renew the war. He gained also many others by the as- sistance of his mother Cratesiclea, who liberally supplied him with money, and joined in his schemes of glory. Nay, it is said, that, though disinclined to marry again, for her son's sake she accepted a man who had great interest and authority among the people. One of his first operations was, the going to seize Leuctra, which is a place within the dependencies of Megalopolis. The Achaeans hastened to its relief, under the command of Aratus; and a battle was fought under the walls, in which part of the Lacedaemonian army was beaten. But Aratus stopping the pursuit at a defile which was in the way, Lysiadas,* the Megalopolitan, offended at the order, encouraged the cavalry under his command to pursue the advantage they had gained; by which means he entangled them among vineyards, ditches, and other inclosures, where they were forced to break their ranks, and fell into great disorder. Cleomenes, seeing his opportunity, com- manded the Tarentines and Cretans to fall upon them; and Lysiadas, after great exertions of va- lor, was defeated and slain. The Lacedaemonians, thus encouraged, returned to the action with shouts of joy, and routed the whole Achaean army. Af- ter a considerable carnage, a truce was granted the survivors, and they were permitted to bury their dead; but Cleomenes ordered the body of Ly- siadas to be brought to hirn. He clothed it in robes of purple, and put a crown upon its head; and, in this attire, he sent it to the gates of Mega- lopolis. This was that Lysiadas who restored lib- erty to tiie city in which he was an absolute prince, and united it to the Achaaan league. Cleomenes, greatly elated with this victory, thought, if matters were once entirely at his dis- posal in Sparta, the Achasans would no longer be able to stand before him. For this reason he en- deavored to convince his father-in-law, Megisto- nus, that the yoke of the ephori ought to be broken, and an equal division of property to be made; by means of which equality, Sparta would resume her ancient valor, and once more rise to the empire of Greece. Megistonus complied, and the king then took two or three other friends into the scheme. About that time, one of the ephori had a surpris- ing dream, as he slept in the temple of Pasiphas. He thought, that, in the court where the ephori used to sit for the dispatch of business, four chairs were taken away, and only one left. And as he was wondering at the change, he heard a voice from the sanctuary, which said "This is best for Sparta." The magistrate related this vision of his to Cleo- menes, who at first was greatly disconcerted, think- ing that some suspicion had led him to sound his intentions. But when he found that there was no In the text it is Lydiadas. But Polybius calls hi siadas; aud so does Plutarch, in another place. 622 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. fiction in the case he was the more confirmed in his purpose; and taking with him such of the citi- zens as he thought most likely to oppose it, he inarched against Heraea and Alsaea, two cities be- longing to the Achsan league, and took them. Af- ter this, he laid in a store of provisions at Orcho- menus, and then besieged Mautinea. At last he so harassed the Lacedaemonians by a variety of long marches, that most of them desired to be left in Arcadia; and he returned to Sparta with the mer- cenaries only. By the way he communicated his design to such of them as he believed most attach- ed to his interest, and advanced slowly, that he might come upon the ephori as they were at sup- per. When he approached the town, he sent Eury- clidas before him, to the hall where those magis- trates used to sup, upon pretense of his being charged with some message relative to the army. He was accompanied by Thericion and Phoebis, and two other young men who had been educated with Cleomenes, and whom the Spartans call Samothra- cians. These were at the head of a small party. While Euryclidas was holding the ephori in dis- course, the others ran upon them with their drawn swords. They were all slain but Agesilaus, and he was then thought to have shared the same fate; for he was the first man that fell; but in a little time he conveyed himself silently out of the room, and crept into a little building, which was the temple of FEAR. This temple was generally shut up, but then happened to be open. When he was got in, he immediately barred the door. The other four were dispatched outright; and so were above ten more who came to their assistance. Those who remained quiet received no harm; nor were any hindered from departing the city. Nay, Age- silaus himself was spared, when he came the next day out of the temple. The Lacedemonians have not only temples de- dicated to FEAR, but also to DEATH, to LAUGHTER, and many of the passions. Nor do they pay ho- mage to Fear, as one of the noxious and destroying demons, but they consider it as the best cement of society. Hence it was that the ephori (as Aristotle tells us), when they entered upon their office, caus- ed proclamation to be made, that the people should shave the upper lip, and be obedient to the laws, that they might not be under the necessity of having recourse to severity. As for the shaving of the upper lip, in my opinion, all the design of that in- junction is, to teach the youth obedience to the smallest matters. And it seems to me, that the ancients did not think that valor consists in the exemption from fear; but on the contrary, in the fear of reproach, and the dread of infamy: for those who stand most in fear of the law act with the greatest intrepidity against the enemy; and they who are most tender of their reputation look with the least concern upon other dangers. There- fore, one of the poets said well, Ingenuous shame resides with fear. Hence Homer makes Helen say to her father-in- law, Priamus, Before thy presence, father, I appear, With conscious shame and reverential fear Pope. And in another place, he says, the Grecian troops With fear and silence on their chiefs attend. For reverence, in vulgar minds, is generally the Concomitant of fear. And, therefore, the Lacede- monians placed the temple of FEAR near the hall where the ephori used to eat, to show that their au- thority was nearly equal to the regal. Next day Cleomenes proscribed eighty of the citizens, whom he thought it necessary to expel; and he removed all the seats of the ephori except one, in which he designed to sit himself, to hear causes and dispatch other business. Then he as- sembled the people, in order to explain and defend what he had done. His speech was to this effect: "The administration was put by Lycurgus into the hands of the kings, and the senate and Sparta was governed by them a long time, without any occasion for other magistrates. But, as the Mes- senian war was drawn out to a great length, and the kings, having the armies to command, had not leisure to attend to the decision of causes at home, they pitched upon some of their friends to be left as their deputies for that purpose, under the title of ephori or inspectors. At first they behaved as substitutes and servants to the kings; but, by little and little, they got the power into their own hands, and insensibly erected their office into an independent magistracy.* A proof of this is a custom which has obtained until this time, that when the ephori sent for the king, he refused to hearken to the first and second message, and did not attend them until they sent a third. Astero- pus was the first of the ephori who raised their office to that hight of authority many ages after their creation. While they kept within the bounds of moderation, it was better to endure than to re- move them; but when, by their usurpations, they destroyed the ancient lorrn of government; whes they deposed some kings, put others to death without any form of trial, and threatened those princes who desired to see the divine constitution of their country in its original luster, they became absolutely insupportable. Had it been possible, without the shedding of blood, to have extermi- nated those pests which they had introduced into Lacedremon; such as luxury, superfluous expense, debts, usury, and those more ancient evils, poverty and riches, I should then have thought myself the happiest of kings. In curing the distempers of my country, I should have been considered as the physician whose lenient hand heals without giving pain. But for what necessity has obliged me to do I have the authority of Lycurgus, who, though neither king nor magistrate, but only a pri- vate man, took upon him to act as a king,f and ap- peared publicly in arms. The consequence of which was, that Charilaus, the reigning prince, in great consternation, fled to the altar. But being a mild and patriotic king, he soon entered into the designs of Lycurgus, and accepted his new form of government. Therefore the pro- ceedings of Lycurgus are an evidence that it is next to impossible to new model a constitution without the terror of an armed force. For my own part, I have applied that remedy with great moderation; only ridding myself of such as op- posed the true interest of Lacedremon. Among the rest, I shall make a distribution of all the lands, and clear the people of their debts. Among the strangers, I shall select some of the best and ablest, that they may be admitted citizens of Sparta, and protect her with their arms; and that we may no longer see Laconia a prey to the ^Etolians and * When the authority of the kings was grown too enor- mous, Theopompus found it necessary to curb it by the institution of the ephori. But they were not, as Cleoma- nes says they were, in their first establishment, ministers to the kings. t Lycurgus never assumed nor aspired to regal authority: and Cleomenes mentions this only to take off the odium from himself. CLEOMENES. 523 lllyrians for want of a sufficient number of in- habitants concerned for its defense." When he had finished his speech, he was the first to surrender his own estate into the public stock. His father-in-law Megistonus, and his other friends, followed his example. The rest of the citizens did the same; and then the land was divided. He even assigned lots for each of the persons whom he had driven into exile, and de- clared that they should all be recalled when tranquil- lity had once more taken place. Having filled up the number of citizens out of the best of the inhabitants of the neighboring countries, he rais- ed a body of four thousand foot, whom he taught to use the two-handed pike instead of the javelin, and to hold their shields by a handle, and not by a ring as before. Then he applied himself to the education of the youth, and formed them with all the strictness of the Lacedaemonian discipline: in the course of which he was much assisted by iSphae- IU3. Their schools of exercise and their refec- tories, were soon brought into that good order which they had of old; some being reduced to it by compulsion, but the greatest part coming vol- untarily into that noble training peculiar to Sparta. However, to prevent any offense that might be taken at the name of monarchy, he made his brother Euclidas his partner in the throne; and this was the only time that the Spartans had two kings of the same family. He observed that the Achaeans, and Aratus, the principal men among them, were persuaded that the late change had brought the Spartan affairs into a doubtful and unsettled state; and that he would not quit the city while it was in such a ferment. He therefore thought it would have both its honor and utility to show the enemy how readily his troops would obey him. In conse- quence of which he entered the Megalopolitan territories, where he spread desolation and made a very considerable booty. In one of his last marches he seized a company of comedians who were on the road from Messene, upon which, he built a stage in the enemy's country; proposed a prize of forty minat to the best performer, and spent one day in seeing them. Not that he set any great value on such diversions, but he did it by way of insult upon the enemy, to show his superiority by this mark of contempt. For, among the Grecian and royal armies, his was the only one which had not a train of players, jugglers, singers, and dancers, of both sexes. No intem- perance or buffoonery, no public shows or feasts, except on the late occasion, were ever seen in his camp. The young men passed the greatest part of their time in the exercises, and the old men in teaching them. The hours of leisure were amus- ed with cheerful discourse, which had all the smartness of Laconic repartee. This kind of amusement had those advantages which we have mentioned in the life of Lycurgus. The king himself was the best teacher. Plain and simple in his equipage and diet, assuming no manner of pomp above a common citizen, he set a glorious example of sobriety. This was no small advantage to his affairs in Greece. When the Greeks addressed themselves to other kings, they did not so much admire their wealth and magnificence, as execrate their pride and spirit of ostentation, their difficulty of access, and harsh- ness of behavior to all who had business at their courts. But when they applied to Cleomenes, who not only bore the title, but had all the great qualities of a king, they saw no purple or robes of state, no rich carriages, no gauntlets of pages or doorkeepers to be run. Nor had they their answer, after great difficulties, from the mouth of secretaries; but they found him in an ordinary habit, ready to meet them and offer them his hand. He received them with a cheerful countenance, and entered into their business with the utmost ease and freedom. This engaging manner gained their hearts; and they declared he was the only worthy descendant of Hercules. His common supper was short and truly La- conic. There were only couches for three people; but when he entertained ambassadors or strangers, two more couches were added, and the table was a little better furnished by the servants. Not that any curious dessert was added; only the dishes were larger, and the wine more generous: for he blamed one of his friends for setting nothing before strangers but the coarse cake and black broth which they ate in their common refectories. "When we have strangers to entertain," he said, we need not be such very exact Lacedaemonians." After supper, a three-legged stand was brought in, upon which were placed a brass bowl full of wine, two silver pots that held about a pint and a half apiece, and a few cups of the same metal. Such of the guests as were inclined to drink, made use of these vessels, for the cup was not pressed upon any man against his will. There was no music or other extrinsic amusement; nor was any such thing wanted. He entertained his company very agreeably with his own conversation; some- times asking questions, and sometimes telling stories. His serious discourse was perfectly free from moroseness; and his mirth from petulance and rusticity. The arts which other princes used of drawing men to their purpose by bribery and corruption he looked upon as both iniquitous and impolitic. But to engage and fix people in his interest by the charms of conversation, without fraud or guile, appeared to him an honorable method, and worthy of a king. For he thought this the true difference between a hireling and a friend; that the one is gained by money, and the other by an obliging behavior. The Mantineans were the first who applied for his assistance. They admitted him into their city in the night, and having with his help ex- pelled the Achaean garrison, put themselves under his protection. He re-established their laws and ancient form of government, and retired the same day to Tegea. From thence he fetched a compass through Arcadia, and marched down to Pheroe in Achaia; intending by this movement either to bring the Accehans to a battle, or make them look upon Aratus in a mean light, for pving up the country, as it were, to his destroying sword. Hyperbates was indeed general at that time, but Aratus had all the authority. The Achaeans assembled their forces, and encamped, at Dyrneoe* near Hecatombo3iun ; upon which Cleomenes marched up to them, though it was thought a rash step for him to take post between Dymea), which belonged to the enemy, and the Achaean camp. However, he boldly challenged the Achae- ans, and indeed forced them to battle, in which he entirely defeated them, killed great numbers upon the spot, and took many prisoners. Lango was his next object, from which he expelled an Achaean garrison, and then put the town into the hands of the Eleans. When the Achaean affairs were in this ruinous state, Aratus, who used to be general every other year, refused the command, though they pressed him strongly to accept it. But certainly it was wrong, when such a storm was raging, to quit Polybius calls it Dyrat 524 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. the holm, and leave the direction to another. The first demands of Cleomenes appeared to the Achoeau deputies moderate enough; afterward he insisted on having the command himself. In other matters, he said, he should not differ with them, for he would restore them both their pris- oners and their lands. The Achaeans agreed to a pacification on these conditions, and invited Cle- omenes to Lerna, where a general assembly of their state was to be held. But Cleomenes has- tening his march too much, heated himself, and then very imprudently drank cold water; the con- sequence of which was, that he threw up a great quantity of blood, and lost the use of his speech. He therefore sent the Achaeans the most respect- able of the prisoners, and putting off the meeting, retired into Lacedremon This ruined the affairs of Greece. Had it not been for this, she might have recovered out of her present distress, and have maintained herself against the insolence and rapaciousness of the Macedonians. Aratus either feared or distrusted Cleomenes, or envied his unexpected success. He thought it intolerable that a young man, newly sprung up, should rob him at once of the honor and power which he had been in possession of for three and thirty years, and come into a govern- ment which had been growing so long under his auspices. For this reason, he first tried what his interest and powers of persuasion would do to keep the Achaeans from closing with Cleomenes; but they were prevented from attending to him, by their admiration of the great spirit of Cleom- enes, and their opinion that the demands of the Spartans were not unreasonable, who only de- sired to bring Peloponnesus back to its ancient model. Aratus then undertook a thing which would not have become any man in Greece, but in him was particularly dishonorable, and un- worthy of all his former conduct, both in the cabinet and the field. He called Antigonus into Greece and filled Peloponnesus with Macedonians, though in his youth he had expelled them, and rescued the citadel of Corinth out of their hands. He was even an enemy to all kings, and was equally hated by them. Antigonus in particular, he loaded with a thousand reproaches, as appears from the writings he has left behind him.* He boasts that he had encountered and overcome in- numerable difficulties in order to deliver Athens from a Macedonian garrison; and yet he brought those very Macedonians, armed as they were, into his own country, into his own house, and even into the women's apartment. At the same time he could not bear that a Spartan king, a de- scendant of Hercules, who wanted only to restore the ancient polity of his country, to correct its broken harmony, and bring it back to the sober Doric tone which Lycurgus had given it;t he could* not hear that such a prince should be de- clared general of the Sicyonians and Triccceans4 While he avoided the coarse cuke and short cloak, and, what he thought the greatest grievance in the whole system of Cleomenes, the abolishing of riches and the making poverty a more supportable tiling, he made Achaia truckle to the diadem and purple of Macedonians, and of Asiatic grandees To shun the appearance of submission to Cleom- enes, he offered sacrifices to the divinity of An- * Aratus wrote a history of the Acheeans, and of his own conduct t The music, like the architecture, of the Dorians, was remarkable for its simplicity. JThis probably should be Tritseans. Trite was a citj of Phocis, and comprehended in the league; but Tricca which was in Thessaly, could hardly be so. igonus, and, with, a garland on his head, sung >seans in honor of a rotten Macedonian. These hings we say not in accusation of Aratus (for in many respects he was a great man and worthy of Greece;) we mean only to point out with compag ion the weakness of human nature, which, in lispositions the best formed to virtue, can pro- luce no excellence without some taint of imper- ection. When the Achaeans assembled again at Argos, nd Cleomenes came down from Tegea to meet hem, the Greeks entertained great, hopes of peace- 3ut Aratus, who had already settled the principal >oints with Antigonus, fearing that Cleomenes, either by his obliging manner of treating, or by 'orce, would gain all he wanted of the people, pro- posed, " That he should take three hundred host- ages for the security of his person, and enter the own alone; or, if he did not approve of that pro- posal, should come to the place of exercise with- out the walls, called Cyllarabium,* and treat there at the head of his army." Cleomenes remonstra- ed, that these proceedings were very unjust. Ha said, "They should have made him these proposals at first, and not now, when he was come to their rates, distrust and shut him out." He therefore wrote the Achaeans a letter on this subject, almost illed with complaints of Aratus ; and the appli- cations of Aratus to the people were little more than invectives against the king of Sparta. The consequence of this was, that the latter quickly retired, and sent a herald to declare war against the Achaeans. This herald, according to Aratus, was sent not to Argos, but to ^Egiurn,t in order that the Achaeans might be entirely unprepared. There was at this time great commotions among the members of the Achaean league; and many towns were ready to fall off; for the common peo- ple hoped for an equal distribution of lands, and to have their debts canceled; while the better sort in general were displeased at Aratus, and some of them highly provoked at his bringing the Macedonians into Peloponnesus. Encouraged by these misunderstandings, Cleo- menes entered Achaia, where he first took Pellene by surprise, and dislodged the Achaean garrison. Afterward he made himself master of Pheneum and Penteleurn. As the Achaaans were apprehen- sive of a revolt at Corinth and Sicyon, they sent a body of cavalry, and some mercenaries from Argos to guard against any measures tending that way, and went themselves to celebrate the Nemeaa games at Argos. Upon this, Cleomenes hoping, what really proved the case, that, if he could come suddenly upon the city, while it was filled with multitudes assembled to partake of the diversions, he should throw all into the greatest confusion, marched up to the walls by night; and seized the quarter called Aspis, which lay above the theater, notwithstanding its difficulty of access. This struck them with such terror, that not a man thought of making any resistance; they agreed to receive a garrison; and gave twenty of thecitizens as hostages for their acting as allies to Sparta, and following the standard of Cleomenes as their general. This action added greatly to the fame and au- thority of that prince. For the ancient kings of Sparta, with all their endeavors, could never fix Argos in their interest ; and Pyrrhus, one of the ablest generals in the world, though he forced his * From Cyllarbus, the son of Sthenelus, t This was a maritime (own of Achaia, on the Corin thian Bay. The intention of Cleomenes was, to take it by surprise, before the inhabitants could have intelligence of the war. CLEOMENES. 525 way into the town, could not hold it, but lost his life iu the attempt, and had great part of his army cut in pieces. Hence the dispatch and keenness of Cleomenes were the more admired ; and they who before had laughed at him for declaring he would tread in the steps of Solon and Lycurgus; in the canceling of debts, and in an equal divi- sion of property, were now fully persuaded that he was the sole cause of all the change in the spirit and success of the Spartans. In both respects they were so contemptible before, and so little able to help themselves, that the ^Etolians made an inroad into Laconia, and carried off fifty thousand slaves. On which occasion, one of the old Spar- tans said " the enemy had done them a kindness, in taking such a heavy charge off their hands." Yet they had no sooner returned to their primi- tive customs and discipline, than, as if Lycurgus himself had restored his polity, and invigorated it with his presence, they had given the most extra- ordinary instances of valor and obedience to their magistrate, in raising Sparta to its ancient superi- ority in Greece, and recovering Peloponnesus. Cleonae and Philius* came in the same tide of success with Argos. Aratus was then making an inquisition at Corinth into the conduct of such as were reported to be in the Lacedaemonian interest. But when the news of their late losses reached him. and he found that the city was falling off to Cle- omenes, and wanted to get rid of the Achaeans, he was not a little alarmed. In this confusion he could think of no better expedient than that of calling the citizens to council, and, in the mean- time, he stole away to the gate. A horse being ready for him there, he mounted and fled to Sic- yon. The Corinthians were in such haste to pay their compliments to Cleomenes, that Aratus tells us, they killed or spoiled all their horses. He ac- quaints us also, that Cleomenes highly blamed the people of Corinth for suffering him to escape. Nevertheless, he adds, that Megistonus came to him on the part of that prince, and offered to give him large sums if he would deliver up the citadel of Corinth, where he had an Achuean garrison. He answered, " That affairs did not then depend upon him, but he must be governed by their cir cumstances." So Aratus himself writes. Cleomenes, in his march from Argos, added the Trcuzenians, the Epidaurians, and Herrnionians, to the number of his friends and allies, and then went to Corinth, and drew a line of circumvalla- tion about the citadel, which the Acha3ans refused to surrender. However, he sent for the friends and stewards of Aratus, and ordered them to take care of his house and effects in that city. He likewise sent again to that general by Tritymallus the Messenian, and proposed that the citadel shoulc be garrisoned half with Achasans and half with Lacedaemonians, offering at the same time, to double the pension he had from Ptolemy, king of Egypt. As Aratus, instead of accepting tiiese conditions, sent his son and other hostages to Aa- tigonus, and persuaded the Achreans to give orders that the citadel of Corinth should be put iiato the hands of that prince, Cleomenes immediately ravaged the territories of Sicyon, and in pursuance of a decree of the Corinthians, seized on the whole estate of Aratus. After Antigonus had passed Geraniaf with a great army, Cleomenes thought it more advisable to fortify the Onaean mountains^ . than the Isthmus, and by the advantage of his * Towns between Argos and Corinth. t A mountain between Megara and Corinth. t This range of mountains extends from the Scironinn rocks, on the road to Attica, as i'ar as mount Citheron feu ab. i. vii. ost to tire out the Macedonians, rather than haz- rd a pitched battle with a veteran phalanx. An- igonus was greatly perplexed at this plan of oper- ttions. For he had neither laid in a sufficient mantity of provisions, nor could he easily fores he pass by which Cleomenes had sat down. Ho attempted one night,indeed, to get into Pelopon- jesus by the port of Lacbaaum,* but was repulsed with loss. Cleomenes was much encouraged with this uccess, and his troops went to their evening's re- reshments with pleasure. Antigonus, on the >ther hand, was extremely dispirited: for he saw limself in so troublesome a situation that it was scarcely possible to find any resources which were lot extremely difficult. At last he determined to nove to the promontory of Herceurn, and from ;hence to transport his troops to Sicyon ; but that required a great deal of time and very considera- ble preparations. However, the evening after, some of the friends of Aratus arrived from Argoa jy sea, being sent to acquaint him that the Ar- rives were revolting from Cleomenes, and pur- posed to invite him to that city. Aristotle was the author of the defection ; and he found no great difficulty in persuading the people into it, because Dleomenes had not canceled their debts, as he had riven them room to hope. Upon this Aratus, with fifteen hundred men whom he had from An- tigonus, sailed to Epidaurus. But Aristotle, not waiting for him, assembled the townsmen, and, with the assistance of Tirnoxenus and a party of Acha3ans from Sicyon, attacked the citadel. Cleomenes getting intelligence of this about the second watch of the night, sent for Megistonus, and, in an angry tone, ordered him to the relief of Argos: for it was he who had principally under- taken for the obedience of the Argives, and, by that means, prevented the expulsion of such as were suspected. Having dispatched Megistonus upon this business, the Spartan prince watched the mo- tions of Antigonus, and endeavored to dispel the fears of the Corinthians, assuring them it was no great thing that had happened at Argos, but only an inconsiderable tumult. Megistonus got into Argos, and was slain in a skirmish there; the garrison were hard pressed, and messenger after messenger sent to Cleomenes. Upon this he was afraid that the enemy, after they had made them- selves masters of Argos, would block up the pass- ages against him, and then go and ravage Laconia at their pleasure, and besiege Sparta itself, which was left without defense. He therefore decamped from Corinth, the consequence of which was the loss of that town; for Antigonus immediately en- tered it, and placed a garrison there. In the meantime, Cleomenes having collected his forces, which were scattered in their march, attempted to scale the walls of Argos; but failing in that enter- prise, he broke open the vaults under the quarter called Aspis, gained an entrance that way, and joined his garrison, which still held out against the Acha3ans. After this he took some other quarters of the city by assault ; and ordering the Cretan archers to ply their bows, cleared the streets of the enemy. But when he saw Autigo- nus descending with his infantry from the bights into the plain, and his cavalry already pouring into the city, he thought it impossible to maintain his post. He had now no other resource but to collect all his men, and retire along the walls, which he accordingly did without loss. Thus, after achieving the greatest things in a short space of time, and making himself master of al- most all Peloponnesus in one campaign, he lost all * One of the harbor* at Coiinth. 526 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. In less time than he gained it; some cities imme- diately withdrawing from his alliance, and others surrendering themselves not long after to Anti- go n us. Such was the ill success of this expedition. And what was no less a misfortune, as he was marching home messengers from Lacedaemon met him in the evening near Tegea, and informed him of the death of his wife. His affection and esteem for Agiatis was so great that, amidst the current of his happiest success, he could not stay from her a whole campaign, but often repaired to Sparta. No wonder, then, that a young man, de- prived of so beautiful and virtuous a wife, was ex- tremelv affected with her loss. Yet his sorrow did not debase the dignity of his mind. He spoke in the same accent, he preserved the same dress and look; he gave his orders to his officers, and provided for the security of Tegea. Next morning he entered Lacedaemon; and after paying a proper tribute to grief at home with his mother and his children, he applied himself to the concerns of state. Ptolemy, king of Egypt, agreed to furnish him with succors, but it was on condi- tion that he sent him his mother and children as hostages. This circumstance he knew not how to communicate to his mother; and he often at- tempted to mention it to her, but could not go forward. She began to suspect that there was some- thing which he was afraid to open to her, and she asked his friends what it might be. At last he ventured to tell her; upon which she laughed very pleasantly and said, " Was this the thing which you have so long hesitated to express? Why do not you immediately put us on board a ship, and Bend this carcass of mine where you think it may be of most use to Sparta, before age renders it good for nothing, and sinks it into the grave?" When everything was prepared for the voyage, they went by land to Taenarus; the army con- ducting them to that port. Cratesiclea being on the point of taking ship, took Cleomenes alone into the temple of Neptune, where, seeing him in great emotion and concern, she threw her arms about him, and said, "King of Sparta, take care that, when we go out, no one perceive us weeping, or doing anything unworthy that glorious place. This alone is in our power; the event is in the hands of God." After she had given him this advice, and composed her countenance, she went on board, with her little grandson in her arms, and ordered the pilot to put to sea as soon as possible. Upon her arrival in Egypt, she understood that Ptolemy had received ambassadors from Antigonus, and seemed to listen to his proposals; and, on the other hand, she was informed that Cleomenes, though invited by the Achseans to a pacification, was afraid, on her account, to put an end to the war, without Ptolemy's consent. In this difficulty she wrote to her sou, to desire him, " to do what he thought most advantageous and honorable for Sparta, and not, for the sake of an old woman and a child, to live always in fear of Ptolemy." So great was the behavior of Cratesiclea under ad- verse fortune. After Antigonus had taken Tegea, and plun- dered Orchomenus and Mantinea, Cleomenes, now shut up within the bounds of Laconia, enfran- chised such of the helots as could pay five Attic mince for their liberty. By this expedient he raised fifty talents; and having, moreover, armed and trained, in the Macedonian manner, two thou- sand of those helots, whom he designed to oppose to the Leucaspides of Antigonus, he engaged in a great and unexpected enterprise. Megalopolis was at that time as great and powerful a city as Sparta. It was supported, beside, by the Achaeans and Antigonus, whose troops lay on each side of it* Indeed, the Megalopolitans were the foremost and most eager of all the Achaeans in their application to Antigonus. This city, however, Cleomenes resolved to surprise; for which purpose he ordered his men to take five days' provisions, and led them to Sellasia, as if he designed an inroad into the territories of Argos. But he turned short, and entered those of Megalopolis; and, after having refreshed his troops at RhoBtium, he marched, by Helicon,* directly to the object he had in view When he was near it. he sent Panteus before with two companies of Lacedaemonians, to seize that part of the wall which was between the two towers, and which he understood to be the least guarded He followed with the rest of his army at the com- mon pace. Panteus, finding not only that quarter but great part of the wall without defense, pulled it down in some places, undermined it in others, and put all the sentinels to the sword. While he was thus employed, Cleomenes came up, and entered the city with his forces, before the Mega- lopolitans knew of his approach. They were no sooner apprised of the misfortune which had befallen them, than the greatest part left the city, taking their money and most valu- able effects with them. The rest made a stand, and though they could not dislodge the enemy, yet their resistance gave their fellow-citizens op- portunity to escape. There remained not above a thousand men in the town, all the rest having retired to Messene, with their wives and children, before there was any possibility of pursuing them. A considerable part even of those who had armed and fought in defense of the city got off, and very few were taken prisoners. Of this number were Lysandridas and Thearidas, two persons of great name and authority, in Megalopolis. As they were such respectable men, the soldiers carried them before Cleomenes. Lysandridas no sooner saw Cleomenes, than he thus addressed him : " Now," said he in a loud voice, because it was at a distance, " now, king of Sparta, you have an opportunity to do an action much more glorious and princely than the late one, and to acquire im- mortal honor." Cleomenes, guessing at his aim, made answer, "You would not have me restore you the town ? " " That is the very thing," said Lysandridas, " I would propose: I advise you, by all means, not to destroy so fine a city, but to fill it with firm friends and faithful allies, by restoring the Megalopolitans to their country and becoming the savior of so considerable a people." Cleo- menes paused awhile, and then replied, " This is hard to believe; but be it as it will, let glory with us have always greater weight than interest." In consequence of this determination, he sent the two men to Messene, with a herald in his own name, to make the Megalopolitans an offer of their town, on condition that they would renounce the Achasans, and declare themselves his friends and allies. Though Cleomenes made so gracious and hu- mane a proposal, Philopoemen would not suffer the Megalopolitans to accept it, or to quit the Achaean league,* but assuring them that the king of Sparta, instead of inclining to restore them their city, wanted to get the citizens too into his power, he forced Thearidas and Lysandridas to leave Messene. This is that Philopajnien who ufter- ward was the leading man among the Achaeans, * Lubinus thinks it ought to be read Helisson, there be- ing no such place as Helicon in Arcadia. t Polybius bestows great and just encomiums on thii conduct of the Megalopolitans, 1. 11 CLEOMENES. 527 and (as we have related in his life) one of the most illustrious personages among the Greeks. Upon this news, Cleomenes, who hitherto had kept the houses and goods of the Megulopolitans with such care that not the least thing was em- bezzled, was enraged to such a degree that he plundered the whole, sent the statues and pictures to Sparta, and leveled the greatest and hest parts of the city with the ground. After this he march- ed home again, being under some apprehensions that Antigouus and the Acha3ans would come upon him. They, however, made no motion toward it, for they were then holding a council at JEgium. Aratus mounted the rostrum on that occasion, where he wept a long time, with his robe before his face. They were all greatly sur- prised, and desired him to speak. At last he said, ** Megalopolis is destroyed by Cleomenes." The Achffians were astonished at so great and sudden a stroke, and the council immediately broke up. Antigonus made great efforts to go to the relief of the place; but, as his troops assembled slowly from their winter quarters, he ordered them to remain where they were, and marched to Argos with the forces he had with him. This made the second enterprise of Cleomenes appear rash and desperate: but Polybius,* on the contrary, informs us, that it was conducted with great prudence and foresight. For knowing (as he tells us) that the Macedonians were dispersed in winter quarters, and that Antigonus lay in Argos with only his friends and a few. mercenaries about him, he entered the territories of that city; in the persuasion that either the shame of suffer- ing such an inroad would provoke Antigonus to battle, and expose him to a defeat, or that if he declined the combat, it would bring him into dis- repute with the Argives. The event justified his expectation. When the people of Argos saw their country laid waste, everything that was valuable destroyed or carried off, they ran in great dis- pleasure to the king's gates, and besieged them with clamor, bidding him either go out and fight, or else give place to his superiors. Antigonus, however, like a wise and able general, thought the censures of strangers no disgrace, in compari- son of his quitting a place of security, and rashly hazarding a battle, and therefore he abode by his first resolutions. Cleomenes, in the meantime, inarched up to the very walls, insulted his ene mies, and, before he retired, spread desolation at his pleasure. Soon after his return, he was informed that Antigonus was come to Tegea, with a design to enter Laconia on that side. Upon this emergency he put his troops under march another way, and appeared again before Argos by break of day, ravaging all the adjacent fields. He did not now cut down the corn with scythes and sickles, as oeoplg usually do, but beat it down with wooden instruments in the form of cimeters, as if this destruction was only an amusement to his soldiers in their march. Yet when they would have set fire to Cyllarabis. the school of exercise, he pre- vented it; reflecting that the ruin of Megalopolis was dictated rather by passion than by reason. Antigonus immediately returned to Argos, hav- ing taken care to place guards in all the passes of the mountains. But Cleomenes, as if he held him and his operations in the utmost contempt, sent heralds to demand the keys of Juno's temple, that he might sacrifice to the goddess. After he had pleased himself with this insult on his enemy, and offered his sacrifice under the walls of the Polybiue, lib, xi. temple, which was fast shut up, he led his troops off to Phlius. In his march from thence he dis- lodged the garrison of Ologuntum, and then pro ceeded by Orchomenus; by which means he not only inspired this people with fresh courage, but came to be considered by the enemy as a most able general, and a man capable of the greatest undertakings: for, with the strength of the single city to oppose the whole power of the Macedonians and Peloponnesians, and ail the treasures of the king; and not only fo keep Laconia untouched, but to carry devastation into the enemy's coun- try, were indications of no common genius and spirit. He who first called money the sinews of business seems principally to have had respect to that of war. And Demades, when the Athenians called upon him to equip their navy and get it out, though their treasury was very low, told them, " They must think of baking bread, before they thought of an embarkation." It is also said lhat the old Archidamus, at the beginning of the Pelo- ponnesian war, when the allies desired that the quota of each should be determined, made answer, that, "war cannot be kept at a set diet." And in this case we may justly say, that as wrestlers, strengthened by long exercise, do at last tire out those who have equal skill and agility, but not the exercise; so Antigonus coming to the war with vast funds, in process of time tired out and over- came Cleomenes, who could but in a very slender manner pay his mercenaries, and give his Spar- tans bread. In all other respects the times favored Cleo- menes, Anligonus being drawn home by the bad posture of his affairs: for in his absence the bar- barians invaded and ravaged all Macedonia. The Illyrians in particular, descending with a great army from the north, harassed the Macedonians so much that they were forced to send for Anti- gonus. Had the letters been brought a little before the battle, that general would have imme- diately departed, and bidden the Achseans a long farewell. But fortune, who loves to make the greatest affairs turn upon some minute circum- stance, showed on this occasion of what conse- quence a moment of time may be.* As soon as the battle of Sellasiaf was fought, and Cleomenes had lost his army and his city, messengers came to call Antigonus home. This was a great aggra- vation of the Spartan king's misfortunes. Had he held off and avoided an action only a day or two longer, he would have been under no neces- sity of fighting; and after the Macedonians were gone, he might have made peace with the Achaean* on what conditions he pleased. But such, as we said, was his want of money that he had no re- source but the sword; and, therefore, as Polybius informs us, with twenty thousand men was forced to challenge thirty thousand. He showed himself an excellent general in the whole course of the action; his Spartans behaved with great spirit, and his mercenaries fought not ill. His defeat was owing to the superior advan- * Plutarch had this reflection from Polybins. t Polybius has given a particular account of this battle. Antigonus had twenty-eight thousand foot, and twelve hundred horse. The army of Cleomenes consisted only of twenty thousand; but it was advantageously posted. He was encamped on two mountains, which were almost in- accessible, nnd separated only by a narrow defile. These he had fortified with strong ramparts and a deep fosse; so that Antigonus, after reconnoitering his situation, did not think proper fo attack him, but encamped at a small riis. tance on the plain. At length, for want of money and pro- visions, Cleomenes was forced to come f.o actio i, and wa beaten. Pol. lib. 11. 528 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. tage the Macedonians had in their armor, and to the weight and impetuosity of their phalanx. Phylarchus, indeed, assures us, it was the treachery of one of his officers that ruined the affairs of Cleomenes. Antigonus had ordered the Illyriuns and Acarnanians secretly to fetch acorn- pass, and surround that wing which was com- manded by Euclydas. the brother of Cleomenes, while he was marshaling the rest of his army. Cieomeues, taking a view from au eminence of his adversary's disposition, 'could not perceive where the Illyrians and Arcarnanians were posted, and began to fear they were designed for some such maneuver. He therefore called Darnotecles, whose business it was to guard against any sur- prise, and ordered him to recounoiter the enemy's rear with particular care, and form the best con- jecture he could of the movements they intend- ed. Damotecles, who is said to be bribed by An- tigonus, assured him that " he had nothing to fear from that quarter, for all was safe in the rear; nor was there anything more to be done but to bear down upon the front." Cleomenes, satisfied with this report, attacked Antigonus. The Spartans charged with so much vigor that they made the Macedonian phalanx give ground, and eagerly pursued their advantage for about five furlongs. The king then seeing Euclidas in the other wing quite surrounded, stopped, and cried out, " Thou art lost, my dear brother, thou art lost! in spite of all thy valor ! but great is thy example to our Spartan youth, and the songs of our matrons shall forever record thee !"* Euclidas, and the wing he commanded, thus being slain, the victors fell upon Cleomenes, who, seeing his men in great confusion, and unable to maintain the fight, provided as well as he could for his own safety. It is said that great numbers of the mercenaries were killed ; and that of six thousand Lacedaemonians no more than two hun- dred were saved. When he reached Sparta he advised the citizens to receive Antigonus. " For my part," said he, "I am willing either to live or to die, as the on* or the other may be most for the interest of my Country." Seeing the women run to meet the few brave rnen who had escaped with him, help to take off their armor, and present them with wine, he retired into his own house. After the death of his wife, he had taken into his house a young woman who was a native of Megalopolis, and freeborn, and fell into his hands at the sack of the place. She approached him, accord- ing to custom, with a tender of her services oil his return from the field. But though both thirsty and weary, he would neither drink nor sit down ; he only leaned his elbow against a pillar, and his head upon it, armed as he was, and hav- ing rested a few moments, while he considered what course to^take, he repaired to Gythiurn with his friends. There they went on board vessels provided for that purpose, and immediately put out to sea. Upon the arrival of Antigonus, Sparta surren- dered. His behavior to the inhabitants was mild and humane, and not unsuitable to the dignity of their republic; for he offered them no kind of insult, but restored to them their laws and polity; and after having sacrificed to the gods, retired the third day. He was informed, indeed, that Mace- donia was involved in a dangerous war ; and that * lie aeleil like a brave soldier, but not a skillful officer Insiea 1 of pouring upon the enemy from the hights, and retiring as he found it convenient, he stood still, and suf- fered the Macedonians to cut off his retreat. the barbarians were ravaging the country. Be- side, he was in a deep consumption, and had a continual defluxion upon the lungs. However, he bore up under his affliction, and wrestled with domestic wars, until a great victory over, and carnage of the barbarians, made him die more glorious. Phylarchus tells us (and it is not at all improbable) that he burst a vessel in his lungs with shouting in the battle: though it passed in the schools, that in expressing his joy after the victory, and crying out, "0 glorious day!" he brought up a great quantity of blood, and fell into a fever, of which he died. Thus much concerning Antigonus. From the isle of Cythea, where Cleomenes first touched, he sailed to another island called lia. There he had formed a design to pass over to Gyrene, when one of his Irienu's, named Therycion, a man of high and intrepid spirit on all occasions, and one who always indulged him- self in a lofty and haughty turn of expression, came privately to Cleomenes, and thus addressed him : " We have lost, my prince, the most glori- ous death, which we might have found in the bat- tle; though the world had heard us boast that Antigonus should never conquer the king of Spar- ta until he had slain him. Yet there is another exit still offered us by glory and virtue. Whither then are we so absurdly sailing? Flying a death that is near, and seeking one that is remote. If it is not dishonorable for the descendants of Her- cules to serve- the successors of Philip and Alex- ander, why do not we save ourselves a long voy- age, by making our submission to Antigonns, who, in all probability, as much excels Ptolemy, as the Macedonians do the Egyptians ? But if we do not choose to be governed by a man who beat us in the field, why do we take one who never conquered us, for our master ? Is it that we may show our inferiority to two, instead of one, by flying before Antigonns, and then going to flatter Ptolemy ? Shall we say that you go into Egypt for the sake of your mother ? It will be a glori- ous and happy thing truly for her to show Pto- lemy's wives her son, from a king become a cap- tive and an exile. No ! while we are yet masters of our swords, and are yet in sight of Laconia, let us deliver ourselves from this miserable for- tune, and make our excuse for our past behavior to those brave men who fell for Sparta at Sellasia. Or shall we rather sit down in Egypt, and inquire whom Antigonus has left governor of Lacedae- mon ?" Thus Therycion spoke, and Cleomenes made this answer : " Dost thou thiuk then, wretch that thou art, dost thou think, by running into the arms of death, than which nothing is more easy to find, to show thy courage and fortitude ! And dost thou not consider that this flight was more dastardly than the former ? Better rnen tha* we have given way to their enemies, being either overset by fortune, or oppressed by numbers. But he who gives out either for fear of labor and pain, or of the opinions and tongues of men, falls a victim to his owu cowardice. A voluntary death ought to be an action, not a retreat from action. For it is an ungenerous thing either to live or to die to ourselves. All that thy expedi- ent could possibly do, would be only the extricat- ing us from our present misfortunes, without an- swering any purpose either of honor or utility. But I think neither thou nor I ought to give up all hopes for our country If those hopes should desert us, death, when we seek for him, will not be hard to find." Therycion made no reply; but the first opportunity he had to leave Clec* CLEOMENES. 529 nenes, he walked down to the shore and stabbed himself. Cleomenes left ^Egialia, and sailed to Africa, where he was received by the king's officers, and conducted to Alexandria. When he was first in- troduced to Ptolemy,* that prince behaved to him with sufficient kindness and humanity ; but when, upon further trial of him, he found what strength of understanding he had, and that his laconic and simple way of conversing was mixed with a vein of wit and pleasantry : when he saw that he did not, in any instance whatever, dis- honor his royal birth, or crouch to fortune, he began to take more pleasure in his discourse than in the mean sacrifices of complaisance and flat- tery. He greatly repented, too, and blushed at the thought of having neglected such a man, and given him up to Antigonus, who, by conquering him, had acquired so much power and glory. He, therefore, encouraged him now with every mark of attention and respect, and promised to send him back to Greece with a fleet and a supply of money, to re-establish him in his kingdom. His present appointments amounted to four-and-twen- ty talents by the year. Out of this he maintained himself and his friends in a sober and frugal man- ner, and bestowed the rest in offices of humanity to such Greeks as had left their country and re- tired into Egypt. But old Ptolemy died before he could put his intentions in favor of Cleomenes into execution; and the court soon becoming a scene of debauch- ery, where women had the sway, the business of Cleomenes was neglected. For the kingf was so much corrupted with wine and women, that in his more sober and serious hours he would at- tend to nothing but the celebration of mysteries, and the beating a drum with his royal hands about the palace ; while the great affairs of state were left to his mistress Agathoclea, and her mother Oenanthes, the infamous minister to his pleasures. It appears, however, that at first some use was made of Cleomenes ; for Ptolemy, being afraid of his brother Magas, who, through his mother's interest, stood well with the army, ad- mitted Cleomenes to a consultation in his cabinet; the subject of which was, whether he should de stroy his brother. All the rest voted for it, but Cleomenes opposed it strongly. He said, " The king, if it were possible, should have more broth- ers, for the greater security of the crown, and the better management of affairs." And when Sosi bius,the king's principal favorite, replied, "That the mercenaries could not be depended on while Magas was alive," Cleomenes desired them to give themselves no pain about that: "for, "said he, " above three thousand of the mercenaries are Peloponnesians, who, upon a nod from me, will be ready with their arms." Hence, Ptolemy, for the present, looked upon Cleomenes not only as a fast friend, but a man of power; but his weak- ness afterward increasing his timidity, as is com- mon with people of little understanding, he began to place his security in jealousy and suspicion. His ministers were of the same stamp, and they considered Cleomenes as an object of fear, on ac- count of his interest with the mercenaries; inso- much that many were heard to say, " That he was a lion among a flock of sheep." Such, in- deed, he seemed to be in court, where, with a silent severity of aspect, he observed all that passed. In these circumstances, he made no more ap- plications for ships or troops. But being inform- Ptolemy Emgetes. t Ptolemy Philopater. ed that Antigonus was dead; that the Achaeans were engaged in war with the ^Etolians; and that affairs called strongly for his presence, in the troubles and distractions that then reigned in Peloponnesus, he desired only a conveyance thither for himself and his friends. Yet no man listened to him. The king, who spent his time in all kinds of Bacchanalian revels with women, could not possibly hear him. Sosibius the prime minister, thought Cleomenes must prove a for- midable and dangerous man, if he were kept in Egypt against his will; and that it was not safe to dismiss him, because of his bold and enterpris- ing spirit; and because he had been an eye-wit- ness to the distempered state of the kingdom; for it was not in the power of money to mollify him. As the ox Apis, though reveling, to all appear- ance, in every delight that he can desire, yet longs after the liberty which nature gave him, wants to bound over the fields and pastures at hia pleasure, and discovers a manifest uneasiness un- der the hands of the priest who feeds him; so Cleomenes could not be satisfied with a soft and effeminate life; but, like Achilles, Consuming cares lay heavy on his mind: In his black thoughts revenge and slaughter roll, And scenes of blood rise dreadful in his soul. While his affairs were in this posture, Nicago- ras the Messenian, a man who concealed the most rancorous hatred of Cleomenes under the pre- tense of friendship, came to Alexandria. It seems he had formerly sold him a handsome piece of ground; and the king, either through want of money or his continual engagement in war, had neglected to pay him for it. Cleomenes, who happened to be walking upon the quay, saw thia Nicagoras just landing from a merchantman, and saluting him with great kindness asked " What business had brought him to Egypt ?" Nicago- ras returned the compliment with equal appear- ance of friendship, and answered : " I am bring- ing some fine war horses for the king." Cleo- menes laughed and said, " I could rather have wished that you had brought him some female musicians and pathics; for these are the cattle that the king at present likes best." Nicagoras, at that time, only smiled; but a few days after he put Cleomenes in mind of the field he had sold him, and desired he might now be paid; pretend- ing that he would not have given him any trouble about it if he had not found considerable loss in the disposal of his merchandise. Cleomenes assured him, " That he had nothing left of what the kings of Egypt had given him;" upon which Nicagoras, in his disappointment, acquainted So- sibius with the joke upon the king. Sosibius re- ceived the information with pleasure; but, being desirous to have something against Cleomenes that would exasperate Ptolemy still more, he per- suaded Nicagoras to leave a letter, asserting that, " If the Spartan prince had received a supply of ships and men from the king of Egypt's bounty, he would huve made use of them in seizing Cy- rene for himself." Nicagoras accordingly left the letter, and set sail. Four days after, Sosibius car- ried it to Ptolemy, as if just come to his hands; and having worked up the young prince te revenge, it was resolved that Cleomenes should have a large apartment assigned him, and b served there as formerly, but not suffered to go out. This was a great affliction to Cleomenes; and the following accident made his prospects still more miserable. Ptolemy, the son of Chryser 530 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. mus, who was an intimate friend of the king's had all s'ong behaved to Cleomenes with great civility; they seemed to like each other's com- pany, and were upon some terms of confidence. Cleomenes, in this distress, desired the son of Chrysermus to come and speak to him. He came and talked to him plausibly enough, endeavoring to dispel his suspicions and to apologize for the king. But as he was going out of the apartment, without observing that Cleomenes followed him to the door, he gave the keepers a severe repri- mand, " for looking so carelessly after a wild beast, who, if he escaped, in all probability could be taken no more." Cleomenes having heard this, retired before Ptolemy perceived him, and acquainted his friends with it. Upon this, they all dismissed their former hopes, and taking the meas- ures which anger dictated, they resolved to revenge themselves of Ptolemy's injurious and insolent behavior, and then die as became Spartans, instead of waiting long for their doom in confinement, like victims fatted for the altar. For they thought it an insufferable thing that Cleomenes, after he had disdained to come to terms with Antigonus, a brave warrior, and a man of action, should sit expecting his fate from a prince who assumed the character of a priest of Cybele; and who, after he had laid aside his drum, and was tired of his dance, would find another kind of sport in putting him to death. After they had taken their resolution, Ptolemy happening to go to Canopus, they propagated a report that, by the king's order, Cleomenes was to be released; and as it was the custom of the kings of Egypt to send those to whom they designed to extend such grace a supper, and other tokens of friendship, the friends of Cleomenes made ample provision for the purpose, and sent it to the (rate. By this stratagem the keepers were deceived; for they imagined that the whole was sent by the king. Cleomenes then offered sacrifice, with a chaplet of flowers on his head, and afterward sat down with his friends to the banquet, taking care that the keepers should have large portions to regale them. It is said, that he set about his enterprise sooner than he intended, because he found that one of his servants who was in the secret had been out all night with his mistress. Fearing, there- fore, a discovery might be made, about mid-day, while the intoxication of the preceding night still kept the guards fast asleep, he put on his military tunic, having first opened the seam of the left shoulder, and rushed out, sword in hand, accom- panied by his friends, who were thirteen in num- ber, and accoutered in the same manner. One of them, named Hippotas, though lame, at first was enabled, by the spirit of enterprise, to keep pace with them; but afterward perceiving that they went slower on his account, he desired them to kill him, and not ruin the whole scheme by waiting for a man who could do them no ser- vice. By good fortune they found an Alexandrian leading a horse in the street; they took it, and set Hippotas upon it, and then moved swiftly through the streets, all the way inviting the people to liberty. They had just spirit enough lef* to praise and admire the bold attempt of Cleomones, but not a man of them ventured to follow or assist him. Ptolemy, the son of Chrysermus, happening to come out of the palace, three of them fell upon him, and dispatched him. Another Ptolemy, who was governor of the city, advanced to meet them in his chariot; they attacked and dispersed his officers and guards; and, dragging him out of his chariot, put him to the sword. Then they marched 10 the citadel, with a design to break open, the prison and join the prisoners, who were no small number, to their party; but the keepers had pre- vented them by strongly barricading the gates. Cleomenes, thus disappointed again, roamed up and down the city; and he found that not a single man would join him, but that all avoided him, as they would avoid infection. He therefore stopped and said to his friends, " It is no wonder that women govern a people who fly from liberty;" adding, "That he hoped they would all die in a manner that would reflect no dishonor upon him, or on their own achievements." Hippotas desired one of the young men to dis- patch him; and was the first that fell. Afterward each of them, without fear or delay, fell upon his own sword, except Panteus, who was the first man that scaled the walls of Megalopolis, when it was taken by surprise. He was in the flower of his age; remarkable for his beauty, and of a happier turn than the rest of the youth for the Spartan discipline; which perfections had given him a great share in the king's regard ; and he now gave him orders not to dispatch himself, until he saw his prince and all the rest breathless on the ground. Panteus tried one after another with his dagger, as they lay, lest some one should happen to be left with life in him. On pricking Cleomenes in the foot, he perceived a contortion in his face. He therefore kissed him, and sat down by him until the breath was out of his body; and then embracing the corpse, slew himself upon it. Thus fell Cleomenes, after he had been sixteen years king of Sparta, and showed himself in all re- spects the great man. When the report of his death had spread over the city, Cratesiclea, though a wo- man of superior fortitude, sunk under the weight of the calamity; she embraced the children of Cleo- menes, and wept over them. The eldest of them, disengaging himself from her arms, got unsuspected to the top of the house, and threw himself down headlong. The child was not killed, but much hurt; and, when they took him up, he loudly ex- pressed his grief and indignation that they would not suffer him to destroy himself. Ptolerny was no sooner informed of these things than he ordered the body of Cleomenes to be flayed, and nailed to a cross, and his children to be put to death, together with his mother, and the women her companions. Among these was the wife of Panteus, a woman of great beauty, and a most majestic presence. They had been but lately mar- ried, and their misfortunes overtook them amidst the first transports of love. When her husband went with Cleomenes from Sparta, she was desi- rous of accompanying him; but was prevented by her parents, who kept her in close custody. But soon after she provided herself a horse and a little money, and, making her escape by night, rode at full speed to Tffinarus, and there embarked on board a ship bound for Egypt. She was brought* safe to Panteus, and she cheerfully shared vith him in all the inconveniences they found in a foreign country. When the soldiers came to take out Cratesiclea to execution, she led her by the hand, assisting in bearing her robe, and desired her to exert all the courage she was mistress of; though she was far from being afraid of death, and desired no other favor than that she might die before her children. But when they came to the place of execution, the children suffered before her eyes, and then Cratesiclea was dis- patched, who, in this extreme distress, uttered only these words, " my children ! whither are you gone?" The wife of Panteus, who was tall and strong, girt her robe about her, and, in. a silent and com- TIBERIUS GRACCHUS. 531 posed manner, pa'.ti the last offices to each woman that lay dead, winJmg up the bodies as well as her present circumstances would admit. Last of all, she prepared herself for the poniard, by letting down her robe about her, a'?d adjusting it in such a manner as to need no assistance after death; then calling the executioner to do his office, and permit- ing no other person to approach her, she fell like a heroine. In death she retained all the decorum she had preserved in life; and the decency which had been so sacred with this excellent woman still remained aboutjier. Thus, in this bloody tragedy, wherein the women contended to the last for the prize of courage with the men, Lacedsemon showed th-dtit is impossible for fortune to conquer virtue, A few days after, the soldiers who watched the body of Cleomenes on the cross,* saw a great snake winding about his head, and covering all hia ; face, so that no bird of prey durst touch it. This struck the king with superstitious terrors, and made way for the women to try a variety of expia- tions; for Ptolemy was now persuaded that he had caused the death of a person who was a favorite of Heaven, and something more than mortal. The Alexandrians crowded to the place, and called Cleomenes a hero, a son of the gods, until the phil- osophers put a stop to their devotions, by assuring them that, as dead oxen breed bees,f horses wasps, and beetles rise out of the putrefaction of asses; so human carcasses, when some of the moisture of the marrow is evaporated, and it comes to a thicker consistence, produce serpents. The an- cients, knowing this doctrine, appropriated the serpent, rather than any other animal, to heroes. TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS. TIBERIUS GRACCHUS. HAVING thus presented you with the history of Agis and Cleomenes, we have two Romans to compare with them; and no less dreadful a scene of calamities to open in the lives of Tiberius and Caius Gracchus. They were the sons of Tiberius Gracchus; who, though he was once honored with the censorship, twice with the couvalate, and led up two triumphs, yet derived still greater dignity from his virtues.} Hence, after the death of that Scipio who conquered Hannibal, he was thought worthy to marry Cornelia, the daughter of that great man, though he had not been upon any terms of friendship with him, but rather always at variance. It is said that he once caught a pair of serpents upon his bed, and that the soothsayers, after they had considered the prodigy, advised him neither to kill them both, nor let them both go. If hc> killed the male serpent, they told him his death would be the consequence; if the female, that of Cornelia. Tiberius, who loved his wife, and thought it more suitable for him to die first, who wus much older than his wife, killed the male, and set the female at liberty. Not long after this, he died, leaving Cornelia with no fewer than twelve children.? The care of the house and the children now en- tirely devolved upon Cornelia; and she behaved with such sobriety, so much parental affection and greatness of rnind, that Tiberius seemed not to have judged ill, in choosing to die for so valuable a woman. For though Ptolemy, king of Egypt, paid his addresses to her, and offered her a share in his throne, she refused him. During her widow- hood, she lost all her children except three, one daughter who was married to Scipio the younger, and two sons, Tiberius and Caius, whose lives we are now writing. Cornelia brought them up with * That the friends of the deceased might not take it away by night. Thus we find in Petronius's Ephesian Matron, Miles qui cruc.es asservabat, nequis ad scpulturam corpora dctrahcret. And thus we find in an authority we shall not mention at the same time with Petronius. t This was the received opinion of antiquity, as we find in Varro, &c. &c. t Cicero, in his first book de Divinations, passes the highest encomiums on his virtue and wisdom. He was grandson to Publius SempronitiSj Cicero relates this story in his first book de Divinatione, from tlie memoirs of Caius Gracchus, the son of Tiberius. I so much care, that though they were without dis- pute of the noblest family, and had the happiest genius and disposition of all the Roman youth, yet education was allowed to have contributed more to their perfections than nature. As in the statues and pictures of Castor and Pollux, though there is a resemblance between the brothers, yet there is also a difference in the make of him who delighted in the cestus, and in the other whose province was horsemanship: so while these young men strongly resembled each other in, point of valor, of temperance, of liberality, of elo- quence, of greatness of mind, there appeared in their action and political conduct no small dissim- ilarity. It may not be amiss to explain the dif- ference, before we proceed further. In the first place Tiberius had a mildness in his look ; and a composure in his whole behavior : Caius as much vehemence and fire. So that, when they spoke in public, Tiberius had a great modesty of action, and shifted not his place ; whereas Caius was the first of the Romans that, in address- ing the people, moved from one end of the rostra to the other, and threw his gown off his shoul- ders. So it is related of Cleon of Athens that he was the first orator who threw back his robe and smote upon his thigh. The oratory of Caius was strongly impassioned, and calculated to excite ter- ror: that of Tiberius was of a more gentle kind, and pity was the emotion that it raised. The language of Tiberius was chaste and elabo- rate: that of Caius splendid and persuasive. So, in their manner of living, Tiberius was plain and frugal: Caius, when compared to other young Ro- mans, temperate and sober; but, in comparison with his brother, a friend to luxury. Hence. Drusas objected to him, that he had bought Delphic tables,* of silver only, but very exquisite workmanship, at the rate of twelve hundred and fifty drachmas a pound. Their tempers were no less different than their language. Tiberius was mild and gentle: Caius, high spirited and uncontrolled; insomuch, that in speaking he would often be carried away by the violence of his passion, exalt his voice above the regular pitch, give into abusive expression* These, we suppose, were a kind of tripoJs 532 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and disorder the whole frame of his oration. To guard against these excesses, he ordered his ser- vant Licinius, who was a sensible man, to stand with a pitchpipe* behind him when he spoke in public, and whenever he found him straining his voice or breaking out into anger.to give him a softer key; upon which, his violence both of tone and passion immediately abated, and he was easily re- called to a propriety of address. Such was the difference between the two broth- ers. But in the valor they exerted against their, enemies, in the justice they did their fellow-citi- zens, in attention to their duty as magistrates, and in self-government with respect to pleasure, they were perfectly alike. Tiberius was nine years older than his brother; consequently their politi- cal operations took place in different periods. This was a great disadvantage, and indeed the principal thing that prevented their success. Had they flourished together, and acted in concert, such an union would have added greatly to their force, and perhaps might have rendered it irresistible. We must, therefore, speak of each separately; and we shall begin with the eldest. Tiberius, as he grew toward manhood, gained so extraordinary a reputation, that ho was admitted into the college of the augurs, rather on account of his virtue than his high birth. Of the excel- lence of his character the following is also a proof: Appius Claudius, who had been honored both with the consulate and censorship, whose merit had raised him to the rank of president of the senate, and who in sense and spirit was superior to all the Romans of his time, supping one evening with the augurs at a public entertainment, addressed him- se ff to Tiberius with great kindness, and offered him his daughter in marriage. Tiberius accepted th'3 proposal with pleasure; and the contract be- ing agreed upon, Appius, when he went home, had no sooner entered the house, than he called out aloud to his wife, and said, " Antistia, I have contracted ourdaughter Claudia." Antistia, much surprised, answered, "Why, so suddenly ? What need of 6uch haste, unless Tiberius Gracchus be the man you have pitched upon ?" I am not ignor- ant that somef tell the same storvof Tiberius, the father of the Gracchi, and Scipio Africanus; but most historians give it in the manner we have men- tioned; and Poly bi us, in particular, tells us that, af- ter the death of Africanus, Cornelia's relations gave her to Tiberius, in preference to all competitors, which is a proof that her father left her unengaged. The Tiberius of whom we are writing served in Africa under the you tiger Scipio, who had mar- ried his sister; and, as he lived in the same tent with the general, he became immediately attentive to his genius and powers, which were daily pro- ductive of such actions as might animate a young man to virtue, and attract his imitation. With these advantages Tiberius soon excelled all of his age, both in point of discipline and valor. At a siege of one of the enemy's towns, he was the first that scaled the wall, as Fannius relates,} who, according to his own account, mounted it with him, and had a share in the honor. In short, Ti- berius, while he staid with the army, was greatly beloved, and as much regretted when he left it. After this expedition he was appointed qutestor, and it fell to his lot to attend the consul Caius Mauoinus in the Numantian war. Maucinusdid * Cicero in his' third book.De Oratorc, calls this a small ivory pipe. Eburneola fistula. t Among these was Livy,lib. xxxviii. c. 37. t This Fannius was author of a history, and certain an- nals which were abridged by Brutus. He was consul with Emilius Lepidus, in the year of Bjoie Gtt. not want courage; but he was one of the most ua~ fortunate generals the Romans ever had. Yet, amidst a train of severe accidents and desperate circumstances, Tiberius distinguished himself the more, not only by his courage and capacity, but what did him greater honor, by his respectful beha- vior to his general, whose misfortunes had made him forget even the authority that he bore. For, after having lost several important battles, he attempted to decamp in the night: the Numantians, perceiv- ing this movement, seized the camp, and falling upon the fugitives, made great havoc of the rear. Not satisfied with this, they surrounded the whole army, and drove the Romans upon imprac- ticable ground, where there was no possibility of escape. Mancinus, now despairing of making his way sword in hand, sent a herald to beg a truce and conditions of peace. The Numantians, how- ever, would trust no man but Tiberius, and they insisted on his being sent to treat. This they did, not only out of regard for the young man who had so great a character ia the army, but to the memory of his father, who had formerly made war in Spain, and after having subdued several nations, granted the Numantians a peace, which through his interest was confirmed at Rome, and observed with good faith. Tiberius was accord- ingly sent; and, in his negotiation, he thought proper to comply with some articles, bv which means he gained others, and made a peace that undoubtedly saved twenty thousand Roman citi- zens, beside slaves and other retainers to the army. But whatever was left in the camp the Numan- tians took as legal plunder. Among the rest, they carried off the books and papers which contained the accounts of Tiberius'squrestorship. As it was a matter of importance to him to recover them, though the Roman army was already under march, he returned with a few friends to Numantia. Having called out the magistrates of the place, he desired them to restore him his books, that his ene- mies might not have an opportunity to accuse him, when they saw he had lost the means of defend- ing himself. The Numantians were much pleased that the accident had given them an opportunity to oblige him, and they invited him to enter their city. As he was deliberating on this circumstance, they drew nearer, and taking him by the hand, ear- nestly entreated him no longer to look upon them as enemies, but to rank them among his friends, and place a confidence in them as such Tiberius thought it best to comply, both for the sake of his books, and for fear of offending them by the ap- pearance of distrust. Accordingly he went into the town with them, where the first thing they did was to provide a little collation, and to beg he would partake of it. Afterward they returned him his books, and desired he would take what- ever else he chose among the spoils. He accepted, however, of nothing but some frankincense, to be used in the public sacrifices, and at his departure he embraced them with great cordiality. On his return to Rome, he found that the whole business of the peace was considered in an obnox- ious and dishonorable light. In this danger, the relations and friends of the soldiers he had brought off, who made a very considerable part of the peo- ple, joined to support Tiberius; imputing all the disgrace of what was done to the general, and in- sisting that the quaestor had saved so many citi- zens. The generality of the citizens, however, could not suffer the peace to stand, and they de- manded that, in this case, the example of their ancestors should be followed. For when their generals thought themselves happy in getting out of th. hauus of the Samnite*, ty agreeing to such TIBERIUS GRACCHUS. 533 a league, they delivered them naked to the ene- my.* The quaestors too, and the tribunes, and all that had a share in concluding the peace, they sent back in the same condition, and turned en- tirely upon them the breach of the treaty and of the oath that should have confirmed it. On this occasion the people showed their affec- tion for Tiberius in a remarkable manner; for they decreed that the consul should be delivered up to the Numantiuns, naked and in chains; but that all the rest should be spared for the sake of Tiberius. Scipio, who had then great authority and interest in Rome, seems to have contributed to the procuring of this decree. He was blamed, notwithstanding, for not saving Mancinus, nor using his best endeavors to get the peace with the Numantians ratified, which would not have been granted at all, had it not been on account of his friend and relation Tiberius. Great part of these complaints, indeed, seems to have arisen from the ambition and excessive zeal of Tiberius's friends, and the sophists he had about him; and the differ- ence between him and Scipio was far from termi- nating in irreconcilable enmity. Nay, 1 am per- suaded that Tiberius would never have fallen into those misfortunes that ruined him, had Scipio been at home, to assist him in his political conduct. He was engaged in war with Numantia, when Tibe- rius ventured to propose his new laws. It was on this occasion : When the Romans in their wars made any ac- quisitions of lands from their neighbors, they used formerly to sell part, to add part to the public de- mesnes, and to distribute the rest among necestf- tous citizens; only reserving a small rent to be paid into the treasury. But when the rich began to carry it with a high hand over the poor, and to exclude them entirely, if they did not pay exor- bitant rents, a law was made that no man should be possessed of more than five hundred acres of land. This statute for awhile restrained the ava- rice of the rich, and helped the poor, who, by vir- tue of it, remained upon their lands at the old rents. But afterward their wealthy neighbors took their farms from them, and held them in other names; though, in time, they scrupled not to claim them in their own. The poor, thus expelled, neither gave in their names readily to the levies, nor attended to the education of their children. The consequence was, a want of freemen all over Italy; for it was filled with slaves and barbarians, who, after the poor Roman citizens were dispos- sessed, cultivated the ground for the rich. Caius Lffilius, the friend of Scipio, attempted to correct this disorder; but finding a formidable opposition from persons in power, and fearing the matter could not be decided without the sword, he gave it up. This gained him the name of Lralius the icise.f But Tiberius was no sooner appointed tri- bune of the people, than he embarked in the same enterprise. He was put upon it, according to most authors, by Diophanes the rhetorician, and Blossius the philosopher; the former of whom was a Mitylenian exile, the latter a native of Curnae in Italy, and a particular friend of Antipa- ter of Tarsus, with whom he became acquainted at Rome, and who did him the honor to address some of his philosophical writings to him. Some blame his mother Cornelia, who used to reproach her sons, that she was still called the rno- * This was about one hundred and eighty-two years be- fore. The generals sent back were the consuls Veturius Calvinus and Posthumius Albinus. tPlutarch seems here to have followed some mistaken authority. It was not this circumstance, but the abste.nious- nets of his life, that gave Lselius the name of wise. | ther-in-law of Scipio, not the mother of the Grac- chi. Others say, Tiberius took this rash step from a jealousy of Spurius Posthumius, who was of the same age with him, and his rival in oratory It seems, when he returned from the wars, he found Posthumius so much before him in point of repu- tation and interest with the people, that to recover his ground, he undertook this hazardous affair, which so effectually drew the popular attention upon him. But his brother Cains writes, that as Ti- berius was passing through Tuscany, on his way to Numantia, and found the country almost depopu- lated, there being scarce any husbandmen or shep- herds, except slaves from foreign and barbarous nations, he then first formed the project which plunged them into so many misfortunes. It is certain, however, that the people inflamed his spirit of enterprise and ambition, by putting up writings on the porticoes, walls, and monuments, in which they begged of him to restore their share of the public lands to the poor. Yet he did not frame the law without consulting some of the Romans that were most distinguished for their virtue- and authority. Among these were Crassus the Chief pontiff, Mutius Scaevola the lawyer, who at that time was also consul, and Ap- pius Claudius, father-in-law to Tiberius. There never was a milder law made against so much in- justice and oppression. For they who deserved to have been punished for their infringement on the rights of the community, and fined for holding the lands contrary to law, were to have a considera- tion for giving up their groundless claims, and re- storing the estates to such of the citizens as were to be relieved. But though the reformation was con- ducted with so much tenderness the people were satisfied: they were willing to overlook what was passed, on condition that they might guard against future usurpation. On the other hand, persons of great property op- posed the law out of avarice, and the lawgiver out of a spirit of resentment and malignity; en- deavoring to prejudice the people against the design, as if Tiberius intended by the Agrarian law to throw all into disorder, and subvert the consti- tution. But their attempts were vain. For, in this just and glorions cause, Tiberius exerted an eloquence which might have adorned a worse sub- ject, and which nothing could resist. How great was he, when the people were gathered about the ros- trum, and he pleaded for the poor in such language as this: " The wild beasts of Italy have their caves to retire to; but the brave men who spill their blood in her cause have nothing left but air and light. Without houses, without any settled habi- tations, they wander from place to place with their wives and children; and their generals do but mock them, when, at the head of their armies, they ex- hort their men to fight for their sepulchers and do- mestic gods: for, among such numbers, perhaps there is not a Roman who has an altar that be- longed to his ancestors, or a sepulcher in which their ashes rest. The private soldiers fight ani die to advance the wealth and luxury of the great; and they are called masters of the world, while they have not a foot of ground in their possession." Such speeches as this, delivered by a man of such spirit, and flowing from a heart really inter- ested in the cause, filled the people with an enthu- siastic fury; and none of his adversaries durst pre- tend to answer him. Forbearing, therefore, the war of words, they addressed themselves to Marcus Octavius, one of the tribunes, a grave and modest ! young man, and an intimate acquaintance of Ti- ' berius. Out of reverence for his friend, he declined the task at first; but upon a number of applications 534 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. from men of the first rank, he was prevailed upon to oppose Tiberius, and prevent the passing of the law: for the tribunes' power chiefly lies in the negative voice, and if one of them stands cut, the rest can effect nothing. Incensed by this behavior, Tiberius dropped his moderate bill, and proposed another more agreeable to the commonalty, and more severe against the usurpers. For by this they were com- manded immediately to quit the lands which they held contrary to former laws. On this subject there were daily disputes between him and Octavius on the rostra; yet not one abusive or disparaging word is said to have escaped either of them in all the heat of speaking. Indeed, an ingenuous dispo- sition and liberal education will prevent or restrain the sallies of passion, not only during the free en- joyment of the bottle, but in the ardor of conten- tion about points of a superior nature. Tiberius, observing that Octavius was liable to suffer by the bill, as having more land than the laws could warrant, desired him to give up his opposi- tion, and offered, at the same time, to indemnify him out of his own fortune, though that was not great. As this proposal was not accepted, Tiberius forbade all other magistrates to exercise their func- tions, until the Agrarian law was passed. He like- wise put his own seal upon the doors of the tem- Ele of Saturn, that the qurestors might neither ring anything into the treasury, nor take anything out. And he threatened to fine such of the pra3- tors as should attempt to disobey his command. This struck such a terror that all departments of government were at a stand. Persons of great pro- perty put themselves into mourning, and appeared in public with all the circumstances that they thought might excite compassion. Not satisfied with this, they conspired the death of Tiberius, and suborned assassins to destroy him: for which reason he appeared with a tuck, such as is used by robbers, which the Romans call a dolon.* When the day appointed came, and Tiberius was summoning the people to give their suffrages, a party of the people of property carried off the balloting vessels,! which occasioned great confu- sion. Tiberius, however, seemed strong enough to carry his point by force, and his partisans were preparing to have recourse to it, when Manlius and Fulvius, men of consular dignity, fell at Ti- berius's feet, bathed his hands with tears, and conjured him not to put his purpose into execution. He now perceived how dreadful the consequences of his attempt might be, and his reverence for those two great men had its effect upon him: he there- fore asked them what they would have him do. They said, they were not capable of advising him in so important an affair, and earnestly entreated him to refer it to the senate. The senate assem- bled to deliberate upon it, but the influence of the people of fortune on that body was such, that the debates ended in nothing. Tiberius then adopted a measure that was nei- ther just nor moderate. He resolved to remove Octavius from the tribuneship, because there was no other means to get his law passed. He address- *We find this word used by Virgil. Pila manu, ssevosque gerunt in bella dolones. ^En. vii. 664. The dolon was a staff that had a poniard concealed with- in it, and had its name from dolus, deceit. t The original signifies an urn. The Romans had two torts of vessels which they used in balloting. The first were open vessels called cista, or cistcllec, which contained the ballots before they were distributed to the people; the oth irs, with narrow necks, were called sitella, and into these the people cast their ballots. The latter were the vessels wfo eh are here said to have been carried off. ed him indeed in public first, in a mild and friend- ly manner, and taking him by the hand, conjured him to gratify the people, who asked nothing that was unjust, and would only receive asmall recom- pense for the great labors and dangers they had experienced. But Octavius absolutely refused to comply. Tiberius then declared, " That as it was not possible for two magistrates of equal authority, when they differed in such capital points, to go through the remainder of their office without com- ing to hostilities, he saw no other remedy but the deposing of them." He therefore desired Octa- vius to take the sense of the people first with re- spect to him; assuring him that he woulci immedi- ately return to a private station, if the suffrages of his fellow-citizens should order it so. As Octavius* rejected this proposal too, Tiberius told him plain- ly, that he would put the question to the people concerning him, if upon further consideration he did not alter his mind. Upon this he dismissed the assembly. Next day he convoked it again; and when he had mount- ed the rostra, he made another trial to bring Octavi- us to compliance. But finding him inflexible, he proposed a decree for depriving him of the tribune- ship, and immediately put it to the vote. When, of the five and thirty tribes, seventeen had given their voices for it, and there wanted only one more to make Octavius a private man, Tiberius ordered them toetop,and once more applied to his colleague. He embraced him with great tenderness in tha sight of the people, and with the most pressing in- stances besought him, neither to bring such a mark of infamy upon himself, nor expose him tc the disreputation of being promoter of such severe and violent measures. It was not without emo- tion that Octavius is said to have listened to those entreaties. His eyes were filled with tears, and he stood a long time silent. But when he looked to- ward the persons of property, who were assembled in a body, shame and fear of losing himself in their opinion brought him back to his resolution to run all risks, and, with a noble firmness, he bade Ti- berius do his pleasure. The bill, therefore, was passed; and Tiberius ordered one of his freedmen to pull down Octavius from the tribunal, for ha employed his own freedmen as lictors. This igno- minious manner of expulsion, made the case of Octavius more pitiable. The people, notwithstand- ing, fell upon him; but by the assistance of those of the landed interest, who came to his defense, and kept off the mob, he escaped with his life. However, a faithful servant of his, who stood be- fore him to ward off the danger, had his eyes torn out. This violence was much against the will of Tiberius, who no sooner saw the tumult rising, than he hastened down to appease it. The Agrarian law then was confirmed, and three commissioners appointed to take a survey of the lands, and see them properly distributed. Tibe- rius was one of the three; his father-in-law, Appi- us Claudius, another; and his brother, Caius Grac- chus, the third. The latter was then making the campaign under Scipio at Numantia. Tiberiu? having carried these points without opposition,, next filled up the vacant tribune's seat; into which he did not put a man of any note, but Mutius, one of his own clients. These proceedings exaspera- ted the patricians extremely, and as they dreaded the increase of his power, they took every oppor- tunity to insult him in the senate. When he de- sired, for instance, what was nothing more than customary, a tent at the public charge, for his use in dividing the lands, they refused him one, though such things had been often granted on much less important occasions And, at the motion of TIBERIUS GRACCHUS. 535 PubIiusNasica,hehad only nineofioZia day allowed for his expenses. Nasica, indeed, was become his avowed enemy, for he had a great estate in the public lands, and was of course unwilling to be stripped of it. At the same time the people were more and more enraged. One of Tiberius's friends happen- ing to die suddenly, and malignant spots appearing upon the body, they loudly declared that the man was poisoned. They assembled at his funeral, took the kier upon their shoulders, and carried it to the pile. There they were confirmed in their suspicions; for the corpse burst, and emitted such a quantity of corrupted humors, that it put out the fire. Though more fire was brought, still the wood would not burn until it was removed to an- other place; and it was with much difficulty at last that the body was consumed. Hence, Tiberius took occasion to incense the commonalty still more against the other party. He put himself in mourning; he led his children into the forum, and recommended them and their mother to the pro- tection of the people, as giving up his own life for lost. About this time died Altai us* Philopator, and Eudemus of Pergamus brought his will to Rome, by which it appeared, that he had lelt the Roman people his heirs. Tiberius, endeavoring to avail himself of this incident, immediately proposed a law, "That all the ready money the king had left should be distributed among the citizens, to ena- ble them to provide working tools, and proceed In the. cultivation of their newly assigned lands." As to the cities, too, in the territories of Altai us, the senate, he said, had not a right to dispose of them, but the people, and he would refer the busi- ness entirely to their judgment. This embroiled him still more with the senate; and one of their body, of the name of Pompey, stood up and said, "He was next neighbor to Ti- berius, and by that means had opportunity to know that Eudemus the Pergamenian had brought him a royal diadem and purple robe for his use when he was king of Rome." Quintus Melellus said another severe thing against him. " During the censorship of your father, whenever he return- ed home after supper, f the citizens put out their lights, that they might not appear to indulge them- selves at unseasonable hours; but you at a late hour, have some of the meanest and most auda- cious of the people about you with torches in their hands." And Titus Annius, a man of no charac- ter in point of morals, but an acute disputant, and remarkable for the subtilty both of his questions and answers, one day challenged Tiberius and offered to prove him guilty of a great offense in deposing one of his colleagues, whose person by the laws was sacred and inviolable. This proposition raised a lumult in the audience, and Tiberius immediate- ly went out and called an assembly of the peo- ple, designing to accuse Annius of the indignity he had offered him. Annius appeared; and knowing himself greatly inferior both in eloquence and re- putation, he had recourse to his old art, and begged leave only to ask him a question before the busi- ness came on. Tiberius consented, and silence being made, Annius said, "Would you fix a mark of disgrace and infamy upon me, if I should appeal to one of your colleagues? And if he carne to my assistance, would you in your anger deprive him This was Attains 111, the son of Eumenes II, and Stra- tonice, and the last king of Pergamus. He was not, how- ever, surnamed Philopator, but Pfiilometor, and so it stands in the manuscript of fc?t. Germain. t Probably from the public hall where he supped with his colleague. of his office?" It is said, that this question so puzzled Tiberius, that with all his readiness of speech and propriely of assurance, he made no manner of answer. He therefore dismissed the assembly for the present. He perceived, however, that the step La had taken in deposing a tribune had offended not only the patricians, but the people too; for by such a precedent he appeared to have robbed that high office of its dignity, which until then had been preserved in great security and honor. In consequence of this reflection, he called the com- mons together again, and made a speech to them, from which it may not be amiss to give an extract by way of specimen of the power and strength of his eloquence. " The person of a tribune, I acknowledge, is sacred and inviolable, because he is consecrated lo the people, and takes their in- terest under his protection. But when he deserts those interests, and becomes an oppressor of the people, when he retrenches their privileges, and takes away their liberty of voting, by those acts he deprives himself; for he no longer keeps to the intention of his employment. Otherwise, if a tribune should demolish the capitol, and burn the docks and naval stores, his person could not be touched. A man who should do such things as those might still be a tribune, though a vile one; but he who diminishes the privileges of the peo- ple ceases to be a tribune of the people. Does it not shock you to think that a tribune should be able to imprison a consul^and the people not have it in their power to deprive a tribune of his author- ity when he uses it against those who gave it? For the tribunes, as well as the consuls, are elect- ed by the people. Kingly governments seem to comprehend all authority in themselves, and kings are consecrated with the most awful ceremonies; yet the citizens expelled Tarquin when his administra- tion became iniquitous; and, for the offense of one man, the ancient government, under whose auspices Rome was erected, was entirely abolished. What is there in Rome so sacred and venerable as the vestal virgins who keep the perpetual fire? Yet if any of them transgresses the rules of her order, she is buried alive. For they who are guilty of impiety against the gods lose that sacred character which they had only for the sake of the gods. So a tribune who injures the people can be no longer sacred and inviolable on the people's ac- count. He destroys the power in which alone his strength lay. If it is just for him to be invested with the tribunitial authority by a majority of tribes, is it not more just for him to be deposed by the suffrages of them all? What is more sacred and inviolable than the offerings in the temples of the gods? yet none pretends to hinder the people from making use of them, or removing them wherever they please. And, indeed, that the tri- bune's office is not inviolable or unremovable, appears from hence, that several have voluntarily laid it down, or been discharged at their own re- quest." These were the heads of Tiberius's de- fense. His friends, however, being sensible of the me- naces of his enemies, and the combination to de- stroy him, were of opinion that he ought to make interest to get the tribuneship continued to him another year. For this purpose he thought of other laws, to secure the commonalty on his side; that for shortening the time of military service, and that for granting an appeal from the judges to ihe people. The bench of judges at that time consisted of senators only, but he ordered an equal number of knights and senators; though it must be confessed, that his taking every possible method 536 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. to reduce the power of the patricians savored more of obstinacy and resentment, than of a re- gard for justice and the public good. When the day came for it to be put to the vote, whether these laws should be ratified, Tiberius and his party, perceiving that their adversaries were the strongest, (for all the people did not at- tend), spun out the time in altercations with the other tribunes; and at last he adjourned the assembly to the day following. In the meantime he entered the forum with all the ensigns of dis- tress, and, with tears in his eyes, humbly applied to the citizens, assuring them, "He was afraid that his enemies would demolish his house, and take his life before the next morning." This af- fected them so much, that numbers erected tents before his door, and guarded him all night. At daybreak the person who had the care of the chickens, which they use in augury, brought them and set meat before them; but they would none of them come out of their pen, except one, though the man shook it very much: and that one would not eat;* it only raised up its left wing and stretched out its leg, and then went in again. This put Tiberius in mind of a former ill omen. He had a helmet that he wore in battle, finely or- namented, and remarkably magnificent; two ser- pents that had crept into it privately, laid their eggs and hatched in it. Such a bad presage made him more afraid of the late one. Yot he set out for the Capitol as soon as he understood the people were assembled there. But in going out of his house he stumbled upon the threshold, and struck it with so much violence that the nail, of his great toe was broken, and the blood flowed from the wound. When he got a little on his way, he saw on his left hand two ravens fighting on the top of a house, and though he was attended, on account of his dignity, by great numbers of people, a stone, which one of the ravens threw down fell close to his foot. This staggered the boldest of his partisans. But Blossiusf of Cumse, one of his train, said, " It would be an insupportable dis- grace, if Tiberius, the son of Gracchus, grand- t son of Scipio Africanus, and protector of the peo- ple of Rome, should, for fear of a raven disappoint that people when they called him to their assist- ance. His enemies, he assured him, would not bo satisfied with laughing at this false step; they would represent him to the commons as already taking all the insolence of a tyrant upon him." At the same time several messengers from his friends in the Capitol came and desired him to make haste, for (they told him) everything went there according to his wish. At first, indeed, there was a most promising appearance. When the assembly saw him at a distance, they expressed their joy in the loudest acclamations; on his approach they received him with the utmost cordiality, and formed a circle about him to keep all strangers off. Mutius then began to call over the tribes, in order to business; but nothing could be done in the usual form, by reason of the disturbance made by the populace, who were still pressing forward. Mean- time FulviusJ Flaccus, a senator, got upon an eminence, and, knowing he could not be heard, made a sign with his hand that he had something to say to Tiberius in private. Tiberius having or- dered the people to make way, Flaccus with much * When the chickens ate greedily, they thought it a si*n of good fortune. tin the printed text it is Blastus; but one of the manu- Mripts gives us Blossius, and all the translators have follow- d it. J Not Flavius, as it is the printed text. dfficulty got to him, and informed him, "That those of the landed interest had applied to the consul while the senate was sitting, and, as they could not bring that magistrate into their views, they had resolved to dispatch Tiberius themselves, and for that purpose had armed a number of their friends and slaves." Tiberius no sooner communicated this intelli- gence to those about him, than they tucked up their gowns, seized the halberts with which the sergeants kept off the c-ovvd, broke, them, and took the pieces to ward against any assault that might be made. Such as were at a distance, much sur- prised at this incident, asked what the reason might be; and Tiberius finding they could not hear him, touched his head with his hand, to sig- nify the danger he was in. His adversaries, see- ing this, ran to the senate, and informed them that Tiberius demanded the diadem; alleging that ges- ture as a proof of it. This raised a great commotion. Nasica called upon the consul to defend the commonwealth, and destroy the tyrant. The consul mildly answered, "That he would not begin to use violence, nor would he pui any citizen to death who was not legally condemned; but, if Tiberius should either persuade or force the people to decree anything contrary to the constitution, he would take care to annul it." Upon which Nasica started, up, and said, " Since the consul gives up his country, let all who choose to support the laws follow rne." So saying, he covered his head with the skirt of his robe, and then advanced to the capitoL Those who followed him, wrapped each his gown about his hand and made their way through the crowd. Indeed, on account of their superior quality, they met with no resistance; on the con- trary, the people trampled on one another, to get out of their way. Their attendants had brought clubs and bludgeons with them from home, and the patricians themselves seized the feet of the benches, which the populace had broken in the flight. Thus armed, they made toward Tiberius, knocking down such as stood before him. These being killed or dispersed, Tiberius likewise fled. One of his enemies laid hold on his gown; but lie let it go, and continued his flight in his under gar- ment. He happened, however, to stumble and fall upon some of the killed. As he was recover- ing himself, Publius Satureius, one of his col- leagues, came up openly, and struck him on the head with the foot of a stool. The second blow was given him by Lucius Rufus, who afterward valued himself upon it as a glorious exploit Above three hundred more lost their lives by clubs and stones, but not a man by the sword. This is said to have been the first sedition in Rome, since the expulsion of the kings, in which the blood of any citizen was shed. All the rest, though neither small in themselves, nor about mat- ters of little consequence, were appeased by mu- tual concessions; the senate giving up something, on one side, for fear of the people, and the people on the other, out of respect for the senate. Had Tibe- rius been moderately dealt with, it is probable that he would have compromised matters in a much easier way; and certainly he might have been re- duced, without their depriving him of his life; for he had not above three thousand men about him. But it seems, the conspiracy was formed against him, rather to satisfy the resentment and malig- nity of the rich, than for the reasons they held out to the public. A strong proof of this we have in their cruel and abominable treatment of his dead body. For notwithstanding the entreaties of his brother, they would not permit him to take away CAIUS GRACCHUS. 537 the corpse, snd bury it in the night, but threw it into the river with the other carcasses. Nor was this all; they banished some of his friends without form of trial, and took others and put them to death. Among the latter was Diophanes the rhe- torician. One Caius Billius they shut up in a cask with vipers and other serpents, and left him to perish in that cruel manner. As for Blossius of Cu- mae, he was carried before the Consuls, and being in- terrogated about the late proceedings, he declared, that lie had never failed to execute whatever Tibe- rius commanded.* "What then," said Nasica, "if Tiberius had ordered thee to burn the Capitol, wouldst thou have done it ?" At first he turned it off, and said, " Tiberius would never have given him such an order." But when a number re- peated the same question several times, he said: Vln that case I should have thought it extremely right; for Tiberius would never have laid such a command upon me, if it had not been for the ad- vantage of the people of Rome." He escaped, however, with his life, and afterward repaired to AristonicuSjf in Asia; but finding that prince's affairs entirely ruined, he laid violent hands on himself. The senate, now desirous to reconcile the peo- ple to these acts of theirs, no longer opposed the Agrarian law; and they permitted them to elect another commissioner, in the room of Tiberius, for dividing the lands. In consequence of which, they chose Publius Crassus, a relation of the Gracchi; for Caius Gracchus had married his daughter Licinia. Cornelius Nepos, indeed, says, it was not the daughter of Crassus, but of that Brutus who was honored with a triumph for his conquests in Lusitania; but most historians give it for the former. Nevertheless, the people were still much con- cerned at the loss of Tiberius, and it was plain that they only waited for an opportunity of re- venge. Nasica was now threatened with an im- peachment. The senate, therefore, dreading the consequence, sent him into Asia, though there was no need of him there. For the people, whenever they met him, did not suppress their resentment in the least: on the contrary, with all the violence that hatred could suggest, they called him an execrable wretch, a tyrant who had defil- ed the holiest and most awful temple in Rome with the blood of a magistrate, whose person ought to have been sacred and inviolable. For this reason Nacisa privately quitted Italy, though by his office lie was obliged to attend the principal sacrifices, for he was chief pontiff. Thus he wandered from place to place in a for- eign country, and after awhile died at Pergarnus. Nor is it to be wondered that the people had so unconquerable an aversion to Nasica, since Sci- pio Africanus himself, who seems to have been one of the greatest favorites of the Romans, as well as to have had great right to their affection, was near forfeiting all the kind regards of the peo- ple, because when the news of Tiberius's death was brought to Numantia, he expressed himself in that verse of Homer. So perish all that in snch crimes engage '4 Afterward Caius and Fulvius asked him, in an assembly of the people, what he thought of the j death of Tiberius, and by his answer he gave them to understand that lie was far from approv- ing of his proceedings. Ever after this, the commons interrupted him when he spoke in pub- lic, though they had offered him no such affront before; and on the other hand, he scrupled not to treat them with very severe language. But these things we have related at large in the life of Scipio. CAIUS GRACCHUS. WHETHER it was that Caius Gracchus was afraid of his enemies, or wanted to make them more obnoxious to the people, at first he left the fort.rn, ami kept close in his own house; like one j who was either sensible how much his family j was reduced, or who intended to make public I business no more his object. Insomuch that some scrupled not to affirm that he disapproved * Laelius, in the treatise written by Cicero under that name, gives a different account of the matter. " Blos- sius," IIP says, " alter the murder of Tiherius, came to him, while he was in conference with the consuls Popilius L:enas and Puhlius Rupilius, and earnestly begged for a pardon, alleging, in his defense, that such was his venera- tion for Tiberius, he could not refuse to do anything lie de- tired." " If then," said Laelius, " he had ordered you to set fire to the Capitol, would you have done it?" " That," replied Blossius, " he would never have ordered me; but if he had, I should have obeyed him." Blossius does not, upon this occasion, appear to have been under a judicial examination, as Plutarch represents him. t Aristonicus was a bastard brother of Attains; and be- ing highly offended at him for bequeathing his kingdom to the Romans, at.tempte t to get possession of it by arms, | and made himself master of several towns. The Romans ent Crassus the Consul against him the second year after the death of Tiberius. Crassus was defeated and taken by Aristonicus. The year following, Aristonicus was de- feated in his turn, and taken prisoner by Perpenna. $ In Minerva's speech to Jupiter. Odyss. lib. i. and even detested his brother's administration. He was, indeed, as yet very young, not being so old as Tiberius by nine years; and Tiberius at his death was not quite thirty. However, in a short time it appeared that he had an aver- sion, not only to idleness and effeminacy, but to intemperance and avarice. And he improved his powers of oratory, as if he considered them as the wings on which he must rise to the great offices of state. These circumstances showed that he would not long continue inactive. In the defense of one of his friends named Vet- tius, he exerted so much eloquence, that the peo- ple were charmed beyond expression, and borne away with all the transports of enthusiasm. On this occasion he showed that other orators were no more than children in comparison. The no- bility had all their former apprehensions renewed, and they began to take measures among them- selves to prevent the advancement of Caius to the tribunitial power. It happened to fall to his lot to attend Orestes,* the consul in Sardinia in capacity of quaestor. * Lucins Anrelius Orestes was consul with Emilins Lep- irius, in the year of Rome 027. So that Caius went quaes- tor into Sardinia at the age of 27. 538 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. This gave bis enemies great pleasure. Gains, i however, was not uneasy on the event: for he | was of a military turn, and had as good talents i for the camp as for the bar. Beside, he was un- j der some apprehension about taking a share in I the administration, or of appearing upon the rostra, and at the same time he knew that he could not resist the importunities of the people or his friends. For these reasons, he thought him- self happy in the opportunity of going abroad. It is a common opinion, that of his own ac- cord he became a violent demagogue, and that he was much more studious than Tiberius to make himself popular. But that is not the truth. On the contrary, it seems to have been rather necessity than choice that brought him upon the , public stage. For Cicero the orator relates, that when Caius avoided all offices in the state, and had taken a resolution to live quiet, his brother appeared to him in a dream, and thus addressed him, " Why lingerest thou, Caius ? There is no alternative. The fates have decreed us both the same pursuit of life, and the same death, in vin- dicating the rights of the people." In Sardinia, Caius gave a noble specimen of every virtue, distinguishing himself greatly among the other young Romans, not only in his operations against the enemy, and in acts of justice to such as submitted, but in his respectful and obliging behavior to the general. In temperance, in simplicy of diet, and love of labor, he excelled even the veterans. There followed a severe and sickly winter in Sardinia, and the general demanded of the cities clothing for his men. But they sent a deputa- tion to Rome to solicit an exemption from this burden. The senate listened to their request, and ordered the general to take some other meth- od. As he could not think of withdrawing his demands, and the soldiers suffered much in the meantime, Caius applied to the towns in person, and prevailed with them to send the Romans a voluntary supply of clothing. News of this be- ing brought to Rome, and the whole looking like a prelude to future attempts at popularity, the senate were greatly disturbed at it Another in- stance they gave of their jealousy was in the ill re- ception which the ambassadors of Micipsa found, who came to acquaint them, that the king their master, out of regard to Caius Gracchus, had sent their general, in Sardinia, a large quantity of corn. The ambassadors were turned out of the house; and the senate proceeded to make a decree that the private men in Sardinia should be reliev- ed; but that Orestes should remain, in order that he might keep his quoestor with him. An ac- count of this being brought to Caius, his anger overcame him so far that he embarked, and as he made his appearance in Rome when none ex- pected him, he was rot only censured by his ene- mies, but the people in general thought it singu- lar that the quaestor should return before his general. An information was laid against him before the censors, and he obtained permission to speak for himself; which he did so effectually that the whole court changed their opinions, and were persuaded that he was very much injured. For he told them, " He had served twelve campaigns, whereas he was not obliged to serve more than ten; and that in capacity of qucestor, he had at- tended his general >hree years,* though the laws Great part of this speech is preserved by Aulus Gelli- tts ; bnt there Caius says he had been qneestor only two years. Biennium enim fui in prwincia. Aul. Gell. 1. lii. c. 15. did not require him to do it more than one." He added, " That he was the only man who went out witn a full purse, and returned with an empty one; while others after having drank the wine they carried out, brought back the vessels filled with gold and silver." After this they brought other charges against him. They accused him of promoting disaffec- tion among the allies, and of being concerned in the conspiracy of Fregellae,* which was detected about that time. He cleaved himself, however, of all suspicion; and having fully proved his in- nocence, offered himself to the people as a candi- date for the tribuneship. The patricians united their forces to oppose him; but such a number of people came in from all parts of Italy to sup- port his election, that many of them could not get lodging, and the Campus Martins not being large enough to contain them, gave their voices from the tops of houses. All that the nobility could gain of the people, and all the mortification that Cains had, was this: instead of being returned first, as he had flattered himself he should be, he was returned the fourth. But when he had entered upon his office, he soon became the leading tribune, partly by means of his eloquence, in which he was greatly superior to the rest, and partly on account of the misfor- tunes of his family, which gave him an oppor- tunity to bewail the cruel fate of his brother. For whatever subject he began upon, before he had done, he led the people back to that idea, and at the same time put them in mind of the different behavior of their ancestors. " Your forefathers'," said he, " declared war against the Falisci, in order to revenge the cause of Genucius, one of the tri- bunes, to whom that people had given scurrilous language; and they thought capital punishment little enough for Caius Vetv.rius, because he alone did not break way for a tribune who was passing through the forum. But you suffered Tiberius to be dispatched with bludgeons before your eyes, and his dead body to be dragged from the Capitol through the middle of the city, in order to be thrown into the river. Such of his friends, too, as fell into their hands, were put to death without form of trial. Yet, by the custom of our coun- try, if any person under a prosecution for a capi- tal crime did not appear, an officer was sent to his door in the morning, to summon him by sound of trumpet, and the judges would never pass sen- tence before so public a citation. So tender were our ancestors in any matter where the life of a citizen was concerned." Having prepared the people by such speeches as this (for his voice was strong enough to be heard by so great a multitude) he proposed two laws. One was, " That if the people deposed any magis- trate, he should from that time be incapable of bearing any public office:" the other, "That if any magistrate should banish a citizen without a legal trial, the people should be authorized to take cognizance of that offense." The first of these laws plainly referred to Marcus Octavius, v;'hom Tiberius had deprived of the tribuneship; and the second to Popilius, who in his proetorship, hail banished the friends of Tiberius. In consequence of the latter, Popilius, afraid to stand a trial, fled out of Italy. The other bill Caius dropped, to oblige, as he said, his mother Cornelia, who inter- posed in behalf of Octavius. The people were perfectly satisfied; for they honored Cornelia, not only on'account of her children, but of her father. * This place was destroyed by Lucius Opimius trio pr tor, in the year of Rome 629. CAIUS GRACCHUS. 539 They afterward erected a statue to her with this inscription: CORNELIA THE MOTHER OF THE GRACCHI. There are several extraordinary expressions of Caius Gnicchus handed down to us concerning his mother. To one of her enemies he said, "Darest thou pretend to reflect on Cornelia, the mother of Tiberius?" And as that person had spent his youth in an infamous manner, he said, " With what front canst thou put thyself on a footing witii Cornelia? Hast thou Drought 'chil- dren as she has doue? Yet all Rome knows that she has lived longer than thou hast without any commerce with men." Such was the keenness of his language: and many expressions equally severe might he collected out of his writings. Among the laws which he procured, to increase the authority of the people, and lessen that of the senate, one related to colonizing, and dividing the public lands among the poor. Another was in favor of the army, who were now to be clothed at the public charge, without diminution of their pay, and none were to serve until they were full seventeen years old. A third was for the benefit of the Italian allies, who were to have the same right of voting at elections as the citizens of Rome. By a fourth the markets were regulated, and the poor enabled to buy bread-corn at a cheaper rate. A fifth related to the courts of judicature, and in- deed, contributed more than anything to retrench the power of the senate: for, before this, senators only were judges in all causes, and on that ac- count their body was formidable both to the equestrian order and to the people. But now he added three hundred knights to the three hundred senators, and decreed that a judicial authority should be equally invested in the six hundred.* In offering this bill, he exerted himself greatly in all respects, but there was one thing very remark- able: whereas the orators before him, in all ad- dresses to the people, stood with their faces toward the senate-house and the comitium, he then for the first time, turned the other way, that is to say, toward the forum, and continued to speak in that position ever after. Thus by a small alteration hi the posture of his body, he indicated something very great, and, as it were, turned the government from an aristocracy into a democratic form: for, by this action, he intimated, that all orators ought to address themselves to the people, and not to the senate. As the people not only ratified this law, but empowered him to select the three hundred out of the equestrian order for judges, he found him- self in a manner possessed of sovereign power. Even the senate in their deliberations were will- ing to listen to his advice; and he never gave them any that was not suitable to their dignity. That wise and moderate decree, for instance, was of his suggesting, concerning the corn which Fabius, when propraetor in Spain, sent from that country. Caius persuaded the senate to sell the corn, and send the money to the Spanish states; and at the same time to censure Fabius for rendering the Roman government odious and insupportable to the people of that country. This gained him great respect and favor in the provinces. He procured other decrees for sending out * The authorities of all antiquity are against Plutarch in this article. Caius did not associate the knights and the senators in the judicial power; but vested that power jr. the knights only, and they employed it until the consulship of Berviliqs Cffipio, for the space of sixteen or seventeen years. Velleius, Ascouius, Appian, Livy, and Cicero himself, suf- ficiently pro e this. colonies, for making roads, and for building public granaries. In all these matters he was appointed supreme director, and yet was far from thinking so much business a fatigue. On the contrary, he applied to the whole with as much activity, and dispatched it with as much ease, as if there had been only one thing for him to attend to; inso- much that they who botli hated and feared the nan, were struck with his amazing industry, and the celerity of his operations. The people were charmed to see him followed by such numbers of architects, artificers, ambassadors, magistrates, nilitary men, and men of letters. These were all kindly received; yet amidst his civilities he preserved a dignity, addressing each according to his capacity and station; by which he showed low unjust the censures of those people were who represented him as a violent and overbearing man. For he had even a more popular manner in con- versation and iu business than in his addresses rom the rostrum. The work that he took most pains with, was hat of the public roads; in which he paid a regard o beauty as well as use. They were drawn in a traight line through the country, and either paved with hewn stone, or made of a binding sand, brought thither for that purpose. When he met with dells, or other deep holes made by land-floods, either filled them up with rubbish, or laid bridges over them; so that being leveled and brought to a perfect parallel on both sides, they afforded a regular and elegant prospect through the whole. Beside, he divided all the road into miles, of near eight furlongs each, and set up pil- lars of stone to mark the divisions. He likewise erected other stones at proper distances on each side of the way, to assist travelers, who rode with- out servants, to mount their horses. The people extolled his performances, and there was no instance of their affection that he might not have expected. In one of his speeches he told them, "There was one thing in particular, which he should esteem as a greater favor than all the rest, if they indulged him in it, and if they denied it, he would not complain." By this it was ima- gined that he meant the consulship; and the com- mons expected that he would desire to be consul and tribune at the same time. When the day of election of consuls came, and all were waiting with anxiety to see what declaration he would make, he conducted Caius Fannius into the Cam- pus Martius, and joined with his friends iu the canvass. This greatly inclined the scale on Fan- nius's side, and he was immediately created consul. Caius too, without the least application, or even declaring himself a candidate, merely through the zeal and affection of the people, was appointed tribune the second time. Finding, however, that the senate avowed their aversion to him, and that the regards of Fannius grew cold, he thought of new laws, which might secure the people in his interest. Such were those for sending colonies to Tarentum and Capua, and for granting the Latins all the rights and pri- vileges of citizens of Rome. The senate now ap- prehending that his power would soon become entirely uncontrollable, took a new and unheard- of method to draw the people from him, by gra- tifying them in everything, however contrary to the true interests of the state. Among the colleagues of Caius Gracchus there was one named Livius Drusus; a man who in birth and education was not behind any of the Romans, and who in point of eloquence and wealth might vie with the greatest and most powerful men of his time. To him the nobility 540 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. applied; exhorting him to set himself up against Caius, and join them in opposing him; not in the way of force, or in anything that might offend the commons, but in directing all his measures to please them, and granting them things which it would have been an honor to refuse at the hazard of their utmost resentment. Drusus agreed to list in the service of the senate, and to apply all the power of his office to their views. He therefore proposed laws which had nothing in them either honorable or advantageous to the community. Hib sole view was to outdo Caius in flattering and pleasing the multitude, and for this purpose he contended with him like a comedian upon a stage. Thus the senate plainly discovered, that it was not so much the measure's of Caius, as the man, they were offended with, and that they were resolved to take every method to humble or destroy him. P'or when he procured a decree for sending out two colonies only, which were to consist of some of the most deserving citi- zens, they accused him of ingratiating himself by undue methods with the plebeians; but when Drusus sent out twelve, and selected three hun- dred of the meanest of the people for each, they patronized the whole scheme. When Caius divided the public lands among the poor citizens, on con- dition that they should pay a small rent into the treasury, they inveighed against him as a flatterer of the populace; but Drusus had their praise for discharging the lands even of that acknowledg- ment. Caius procured the Latins the privilege of voting as citizens of Rome, and the patricians, were offended; Drusus, on the contrary, was sup- ported by them in a law for exempting the Latin soldiers from being flogged, though upon service, for any misdemeanor. Meantime, Drusus assert- ed, ia all his speeches, that the senate, in their great regard for the commons, put him upon pro- posing such advantageous decrees This was the only good thing in his maneuvers; for by these arts the people became better affected to the senate. Before, they had suspected and hated the leaders of that body; but Drusus appeased their resent- ment, and removed their aversion, by assuring them, that the patricians were the first movers of all these popular laws. What contributed most to satisfy the people as to the sincerity of his regard, and the purity of his intentions, was, that Drusus, in all his edicts, ap- peared not to have the least view to his own in- terest; for he employed others as commissioners for planting the new colonies; and if there was an affair of money, he would have no concern with it himself; whereas, Caius chose to preside in the greatest and most important matters of that kind. Rubrius, one of his colleagues, having procured an order for rebuilding and colonizing Carthage, which had been destroyed by Scipio, it fell to the lot of Caius to execute that commission, and in pursuance thereof he sailed to Africa. Drusus took advantage of his absence to gain more ground upon him, and to establish himself in the favor of the people. To lay an information against Ful- vius he thought would be very conducive to this end. Fulvius was a particular friend of Caius, and his assistant in the distribution of the lands. At the same time he was a factious man, and known to be upon ill terms with the senate. Others, be- side the patricians, suspected him of raising com- motions among the allies, and of privately excit- ing the Italians to a revolt. These things, in- deed, were said without evidence or proof; but Fulvius himself gave strength to the report by his Hnpeaceable and unsalutary conduct. Caius, as his acquaintance, came in for his share of the dislike, and this was one of the principal things that brought on his ruin. Beside, when Scipio Africanus died, without any previous sickness, and (as we have ob- served in his life) there appeared marks of vio- lence upon his body, most people laid it to the charge of Fulvius, who was his avowed enemy, and had that very day abused him from the ros- trum. Nor was Caius himself unsuspected. Yet so execrable a crime as this, committed against the first and greatest man in Rome, escaped with impunity; nay, it was not even inquired into; for the people prevented any cognizance of it from being taken, out of fear for Caius, lest upon a strict inquisition he should be found accessory to the murder. But this happened some time be- fore. While Caius was employed in Africa, in the re-establishment of Carthago, the name of which he changed to Junonia,* he was interrupted by several inauspicious omens. The staff of the first standard was broken, between the violent ef- forts of the wind to tear it away, and those of tho ensign to hold it. Another storm of wind blew the sacrifices from the altars, and bore them be- yond the bounds marked out for the city; and the wolves came and seized the marks themselves, and carried them to a great distance. Caius, how- ever, brought everything under good regulations in the space of seventy days, and then returned to Rome, where he understood that Fulvius was hard pressed by Drusus, and affairs demanded his presence. For Lucius Opimius,f who was of the patrician party and very powerful in the senate, had lately been unsuccessful in his application for the consulship, through the opposition of Cai- us, and his support of Fannius; but now his in- terest was greatly strengthened, and it wa thought he would be chosen the following year.* It was expected, too, that the consulship would enable him to ruin Caius, whose interest was al- ready upon the decline. Indeed, by this time the people were cloyed with indulgence; because there were many beside Caius who flattered them in all the measures of administration, and the senate saw them do it with pleasure. At his return he removed his lodgings from the Palatine Mount to the neighborhood of the forum: in which he had a view to popularity, for many of the meanest and indigent of the commonalty dwelt there. After this he proposed the rest of his laws, in order to their being ratified by the suffrages of the people. As the populace came to him from all quarters, the senate persuaded the consul Fannius to command all persons to depart the city who were not Romans by birth. Upon this strange and unusual proclamation, that none of the allies or friends of the republic should remain in Rome, or, though citizens, be permitted to vote, Caius, in his turn, published articles of impeach- ment against the consul, and at the same time de- clared he would protect the allies, if they would stay. He did not, however, perform his promise. On the contrary, he suffered the consul's lictors to take away a person before his eyes, who was con- nected with him by the ties of hospitality, with- out giving him the least assistance: whether it * (lunm Juno fertur terris magis omnibus unam Posthabita coluisse Sam o. Virgil. t In the printed text it is Hostilivs, bul it should be Opi- mius, for he was consul the year following with Q.. Fabios Maximus, which was the year of Rome 631. Plutarch himself calls him Opimius a" little after. Hostilius, there- fore, must be a false reading; and, indeed, one of th manuscripts gives us Opimius here. CAIUS GRACCHUS. 541 was that he feared to show how much his strength was diminished, or whether (as he alleged) he did not choose to give his enemies occasion to have recourse to the sword, who only sought a pretense for it. He happened, moreover, to be at variance with his colleagues. The reason was this: there was a show of gladiators to be exhibited to the people in the forum, and most of the magistrates had caused scaffolds to be erected around the place, in order to let them out for hire. Caius insisted that they should be taken down, that the poor might see the exhibition without paying for it. As none of the proprietors regarded his orders, he waited until the night preceding the show, and then went with his own workmen, and demo- lished the scaffolds. Next day, the populace saw the place quite clear of them, and of course they admired him as a man of superior spirit. But his colleagues were greatly offended at his vio- lent temper and measures. This seems to have been the cause of his miscarriage in his applica- tion for a third tribuneship; for, it seems, he had a majority of voices, but his colleagues are said to have procured a fraudulent and unjust return. Be that as it may (for it was a matter of some doubt), it is certain that he did not bear his disap- pointment with patience: but when he saw his , adversaries laugh, he told them with too much in- solence, " Their laugh was of the Sardonic* kind, for they did not perceive how much their actions were eclipsed by his." After Opimius %as elected consul, he prepared to repeal many of Caius's laws, and to annul his establishment of Carthage, on purpose to provoke him to some act of violence, and to gain an op- portunity to destroy him. He bore this treat- ment for some time; but afterward, at the insti- gation of his friends, and of Fulvius in particu- lar, he began to raise an opposition once more against the consul. Some say, his mother on this occasion entered into the intrigues of the. party, and having privately taken some strangers into pay, sent them into Rome in the disguise of reapers ; and they assert that these things are enigmatically hinted at in her letters to her son. But others say, Cornelia was much displeased at these measures. When the day came on which Opiinius was to get those laws repealed, both parties early in the morning posted themselves in the Capitol; and after the consul had sacrificed, Quintus Antyllius, one of his lictors, who was currying out the en- trails of the victims, said to Fulvius and his friends, " Stand off, ye factious citizens, and make way for honest men." Some add, that, along with this scurrilous language, he stretched his naked arm toward them in a form that expressed the ut- most contempt. They immediately killed An- tyllius with long styles, said to have been made for such a purpose. The people were much chagrined at this act of violence. As for the two chiefs, t'hey made very different reflections upon the event. Caius was concerned at it, and reproached his partisans *It. was not easy to see the propriety of this expression, as it is used here. The Sardonic laugh was an involunta- ry distension of the muscles of the mouth, occasioned by a poisonous plant; and persons that died of this poison had a smile on their countenances. Hence it came to signify forced or affected laughter; but why the laughter of Grac- shus's opponents should be called forced or Sardonic, be- cause they did not perceive his superiority, it does not ap- pear. It might more properly have been called affected, il they did perceive it. Indeed, if every species of un- reasonable laughing may be called Sardonic, it will do tiU. with having given their enemies the handle they long had wanted. Opimius rejoiced at the op- portunity, and excited the people to revenge. But for the present they were parted by a heavy rain. At an early hour next day, the consul assem- bled the senate, and while he was addressing them within, others exposed the corpse of Antyl- lius naked on a bier without, and, as it had been previously concerted, carried it through the forum to the senate-house, making loud acclama- tions all the way. Opimius knew the whole farce; but pretended to be much surprised. The senate went out, and planting themselves about the corpse, expressed their grief and indignation, as if some dreadful misfortune had befallen them. This scene, however, excited only hatred and de- testation in the breasts of the people, who could not but remember that the nobility hud killed Ti- berius Gracchus in the Capitol, though a tribune, and thrown his body into the river; and yet now, when Antyllius, a vile sergeant, who possibly did not deserve quite so severe a punishment, but by his impertinence had brought it upon himself when such a hireling lay exposed in the forum, the senate of Rome stood weeping about him, and then attended the wretch to his funeral; with no other view than to procure the death of the only remaining protector of the people. On their return to the house, they charged Opimius the consul, by a formal decree, to take every possible method for the preservation of the commonwealth, and the destruction of the ty- rants. He therefore ordered the patriciuns to arms, and each of the knights to attend with two servants well armed the next morning. Fulvius, on the other hand, prepared himself, and drew together a crowd of people. Caius, as he returned from the forum, stood a long time looking upon his father's statue, and after having given went to his sorrow in some sighs and tears, retired without uttering a word. Many of the plebeians, who saw this, were mov- ed with compassion; and, declaring they should be the most dastardly of beings if they abandon- ed such a man to his enemies, repaired to his house to guard him, and passed the night before his door. This they did in a very different man- ner from the people who attended Fulvius on the same occasion. These passed their time in noise and riot, in carousing and empty threats; Fulvius himself being the first man that was intoxicated, and giving into many expressions and actions un- suitable to his years. But those about Caius were silent, as in a time of public calamity; and with a thoughtful regard to what was yet to come, they kept watch and took rest by turns. Fulvius slept so sound after his wine, that it was with difficulty they awoke him at break of day. Then he and his company armed them- selves with the Gallic spoils which he had brought off in his consulship, upon his conquering that people; and thus accoutered, they sallied out, with loud menaces, to seize the Aventine hill. As for Caius, he would not arm, but went out in his gown, as if he had been going upon ibusiness in the forum, only he had a small dagger under it. At the gate, his wife threw herself at his feet, and taking hold of him with one hand, and of her son with the other, she thus expressed her- self: "You do not now leave me, my dear Caius, as formerly, to go to the rostra, in capaci- ty of tribune or lawgiver, nor do I send you out to a glorious war, where, if the common lot fell to your share, my distress might at least have the 542 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. consolation of honor. You expose yourself to the murderers of Tiberius, unarmed, indeed, as a man should go, who had rather suffer than com- mit any violence; but it is throwing away your life without any advantage to the community. Faction reigns; outrage and the sword are the only measures of justice. Had yonr brother fallen before Numantia, the truce would have re- stored us his body; hut now perhaps I shall have to go a suppliant to some river or the sea, to be shown where your remains may be found. For what confidence can we have either in the laws or in the gods, after the assassination of Tibe- rius ?" When Licinia had poured out thse lamenta- tions, Caius disengaged himself as quietly as he could from her arms, and walked on with his friends in deep silence. Shecatched at his gown; but in the attempt fell to the ground and lay a long time speechless. At last her servants seeing her in that condition, took her up, and carried her to her brother Crassus. Fulvius, when all the party was assembled, lis- tened to the advice of Caius, and sent his younger son into the forum, equipped like an herald.* He was a youth of most engaging appearance, and he approached with great modesty, and tears in his eyes, to propose terms of accommodation to the consul and the senate. Many were disposed to hearken to the proposal: but Opimius said, "The criminals ought not to treat by heralds, but come in person to make their submission to the senate, and surrender themselves to justice, be- fore they interceded for mercy." At the same time, he bade the young man return with an ac- count that these conditions were complied with, or not return at all. Caius was of opinion that they should go and endeavor to reconcile themselves to the senate. But as none of the rest acceded to that opinion, Fulvius sent his son again with propositions much the same. Opimius, who was in haste to begin hostilities, immediately took the young man into custody, and marched'against Fulvius with a nu- merous body of infantry, and a company of Cretan archers. The latter galled their adversaries much, and put them in such confusion that they took to flight. Fulvius hid himself in an old neglected bath, where he was soon found and put to the sword, together with his eldest son. Caius was not seen to lift his hand in the fray. On the con- trary, he expressed the greatest uneasiness at their coming to such extremities, and retired into the temple of Diana. There he would have dispatched himself, but was hindered by Pomponius and Li- cinius, the- most faithful of his friends, who took away his poniard, and persuaded him to try the alternative of flight. On this occasion he is said to have kneeled down, and with uplifted hands to have prayed to the deity of that temple, " That the people of Rome, for their ingratitude and base desertion of him, might be slaves forever." Indeed, most of them, on promise of impunity by procla- mation, openly went over to the other party. The enemy pursued Caius with great eagerness, and came up with him at the wooden bridge. His two friends bidding him go forward, planted themselves before it, and suffered no man to pass until they were overpowered and slain. One of his servants, named Philocrates, accompanied Caius in his flight. All encouraged him to make the best of his way, as they do a runner in the lists but not one assisted him, or offered him a horse,' * Literally, w.'th a cadnceus, or herald's wand in his though he desired it, for they saw the enemy now almost upon him.* He got, however, a little before them, into a grove sacred to thefuriesrf and there closed the scene; Philocrat.es first dispatched him, and afterward himself. Some, indeed, say, that they both came alive into the enemy's hands, and that the slave clung so close to his master that they could not come to the one until they had cut the other in pieces. We are told also, that after a person, whose name is not mentioned, had cutoff the head of Caius, and was bearing away his prize, Septiinuleius,i " e of Opimius's friends, took it from him: for at the beginning of the action, the weight in gold had been offered by proclamation eitlier for his head, or for that of Fulvius. Septi- muleius carried it to Opimius upon the point of a pike; and when put in the scale, it was found to weigh seventeen pounds eight ounces; for Septi- muleius had added fraud to his other villanies; he had taken out the brain, and filled the cavity with molten lead. Those who brought in the head of Fulvius, being persons of no note, had no reward at all. The bodies of Caius and Fulvius, and the rest of the slain, who were no fewer than three thou- sand, were thrown into the river. Their goods were confiscated and sold, and their wives forbid- den to go into mourning. Licinia was, moreover, deprived of her dowry. The most savage cruelty was exercised upon the younger son of Fulvius, who had never borne arms against them, nor ap- peared among the combatants, hut was imprisoned when he came with proposals or peace, and put to death after the battle. But neither this, nor any other instance of despotism, so sensibly touched the people, as Opimius's building a temple to CONCORD. For by that he appeared to claim honor for what he had done, and in some sort to triumph in the destruction of so many citizens. Some- body, therefore, in the night, wrote this line under the inscription on the temple: Madness and Discord rear the fane of Concord. Opimius was the first consul who usurped the power of a dictator, and condemned three thousand citizens, without any form of justice, beside Caiua Gracchus and Fulvius Flaccus, though one of them had been honored with the consulship and a triumph, and the other, both in virtue and reputa- tion, was superior to all the men of his time. Opimius was vile enough to suffer himself to be corrupted with money. Going afterward ambas- sador to Jugurtha the Numidian, he took a bribe; and being called to account for it at his return, in a judicial way, he had the mortification to grow old with that infamy upon him. At the same time he was hated and execrated by the commons, who through his means had been reduced to an abject condition. In a little time those commons showed how deeply they regretted the Gracchi. They erected their statues in one of the most public parts of the city; they consecrated the places where they were killed, and offered to them all first-fruits according to the season of the year. Nay, many offered daily sacrifices, and paid their devotions there as in the temples of gods. Cornelia is reported to have borne all these mis- fortunes with a noble magnanimity, and to have said * Aurelius Victor mentions two of Cains's friends, who stopped the pursuit of the enemy; Pomponius, at the Porta Trigcmina, and Ltslorius, at the Pons Sublicius. t This grove was called Lucus Farina;, and was near the Pans Sublicius. The goddess had a high priest called Fiamin Furinalis, and annual sacrifices. Vero de Ling. 1. v. t Pliny and Valerius Maximus say, he was an intimata acquaintance of Gracchus'*. AGIS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS, COMPARED. 543 of the consecrated places in particular, where her sons lost their lives, "That they were monuments worthy of them." She, took up her residence at Misenum, and made DO alteration in her manner of living. As she had many friends, her table was always open for the purposes of hospitality. Greoks and other men of letters she hiid always with her, and all the kings in alliance with Rome expressed their regard by sending her presents, and receiving the like civilities in return. She made herself very agreeable to her guests by ac- quainting them with many particulars of her father Africanus, and of his manner of living. But what they most admired in her was, that she could recount their actions and sufferings, as if she spoke of her sons without a sigh or a tear, and hud been giving a narrative of some ancient heroes. Some, therefore, imagined that age and the greatness of her misfortunes had deprived her of her under- standing ami sensihilitv. But those who were of that opinion seem rather to have wanted under- standing themselves; since they knew not how much a noble mind may, by a liberal education, be enabled to support itself against distress; and that though in the pursuit of rectitude Fortune may often defeat the purposes of VIRTUE, yet VIRTUE, in bearing affliction, can never lose her prerogative. AGIS AND CLEOMENES COMPARED WITH TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS. THUS we have given the history of these great men severally, and it remains that we take a view of them in comparison with each other. Those who hated the Gracchi, and endeavored the most to disparage them, never durst deny, that of all the Romans of their time, nature had disposed them most happily to virtue, or that this disposition was cultivated by the most excellent education. But nature appears to have done still more for Agis and Cleomenes; for though they not only wanted the advantages of education, but were trained to such manners and customs as had corrupted many before them, yet they became examples of temperance and sobriety. Beside, the Gracchi lived at a time when Rome was in her greatest glory; a time that was distinguished by a virtuous emulation; and of course they must have had a natural aversion to give up the inheritance of virtue which they had received from their ancestors. Whereas Agis and Cleomenes had parents of very different principles, and found their country in a very diseased and unhappy stale; and yet these things did not in the least abate their ardor in the pursuits of honor. We have a strong proof of the disinterested views of the Gracchi, and their aversion to avarice, in their keeping themselves clear of all iniquitous practices in the whole course of their administra- tion. But Agis might even have resented it, if any one had commended him for not touching the property of others, since he distributed his whole substance among the citizens of Sparta, which, beside other considerable articles, consisted of six hundred talents in money. What a crime then must unjust gain have appeared to him, who thought it nothing less than avarice to possess more than others, though by the fairest title? If we consider them with respect to the hardi- ness of their enterprises, and the new regulations they wanted to establish, we shall find the two Grecians greatly superior. One of the two Ro- mans applied himself principally to making roads and colonizing towns. The boldest attempt of Tiberius was the distribution of the public lands; and Caius did nothing more extraordinary than the joining an equal number of the equestrian order in commission with the three hundred patri- mn judges The alterations which Agis and Cleomenes brought" into the system of their commonwealth were of a different nature. They saw a small and partial amendment was no better, as Plato expresses it, than the cutting off one of the Hydra's heads;* and therefore they introduced a change that might remove all the distempers of the constitution at once. Perhaps we may express ourselves with more propriety, if we say, that, by removing the changes that had caused all their misfortunes, they brought Sparta back to its first principles. Possibly it may not be amiss to add, that the measures the Gracchi adopted were offensive to the greatest men in Rome;f whereas, all that Agis meditated, and Cleomenes brought to bear, had the best and most respectable authorities to support it, I mean the sanction either of Lycurgus or Apollo. What is still more considerable, by the political measures of the Gracchi, Rome made not the least acquisition of power or territory; whereas, through those of Cleomenes, Greece saw the Spartans in a little time become masters of Peloponnesus, and contending for superiority with the most power- ful princes of that age; and this without any other view than to deliver Greece from the incur- sions of the Illyrians and Gauls, and put her once more under the protection of the race of Hercules. The different manner of the deaths of these great men appears also to me to point out a differ- ence in their characters. The Gracchi fought with their fellow-citizens, and being defeated, per- ished in their flight. Agis, on the other hand, fell almost a voluntary sacrifice, rather than that any Spartan should lose his life on his account. Cleomenes, when insulted and oppressed, had re- course to vengeance; and, as circumstances did not favor him, had courage enough to give himself the fatal blow. If we view them in another light, Agis never distinguished himself as a general; for he was killed before lie had an opportunity of that kind: * In the fourth book of the commonwealth. t Plutarch seems to censure the Agrarian law as an irra- tional one, and as the invention of the Gracchi. But, IB fact, there was an Agrarian law among the institutions of Lycurgus; and the Gracchi were not the rirst promoters of such a law among the Romans. Spurius Cassius offered a bill of the same kind above two hundred years before, which proved equally fatal to him. 544 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and with the many great and glorious victories of Cleomenes we may compare the memorable exploit of Tiberius, in being the first to scale the walls of Cartilage, and his saving twenty thousand Romans, who had no other hope of life, by the peace which he happily concluded with the Nu- mantians. As for Cai us, there were many instances of his military talents both in the Numantian war, and in Sardinia. So that the two brothers would probably one day have been ranked with the greatest generals among the Romans, had they not come to an untimely death. As to their political abilities, Agis seems to have wanted firmness and dispatch. He suffered himself to be imposed upon by Agesilaus, and performed not his promise to the citizens of making a distribution of lauds. He was, indeed, extremely young; and on that account, had a timidity which prevented the completion of those schemes that had so much raised the expectation of the public. Cleomenes, on the contrary, took too bold and too violent a method to effectuate the changes he had resolved on in the police of Sparta. It was an act of injustice to put the ephori to death, whom he might either have brought over to his party by force, because h supe- rior in arms, or else have banished, as he did many others. For, to have recourse to the knife, except in cases of extreme necessity, indicates neither the good physician nor the able statesman, but un- skillfulness in both. Beside, in politics, that igno- rance is always attended with injustice and cru- elty. But neither of the Gracchi began the civil war, or dipped his hands in the blood of his coun- trymen. Caius, we are told, even when attacked, did not repel force with force; and, though none and he looked upon it as a most unhappy circum- stance. On the other hand, Cleomenes, not to mention any more his destroying the ephori, took an unconstitutional step in enfranchising all the slaves; and, in reality, he reigned alone, though, to save appearances, he took in his brother Eucli- das as a partner in the throne, who was not of the other family that claimed a right to give one of the kings to Sparta. Archidamus, who was of that family, and had as much right to the throne, he persuaded to return from Messene. In conse- quence of this he was assassinated; and as, Cleo- menes made no inquiry into the murder, it is probable that he was justly censured as the cause of it. Whereas, Lycurgus, whom he pretended to take as his pattern, freely surrendered to hia nephew Charilaus, the kingdom committed to his charge; and that he might not be blamed in case of his untimely death, he went abroad and wan- dered a long time in foreign countries; nor did he return until Charilaus had a son to succeed him in the throne. It is true, Greece had not, pro- duced any other man who can be compared to Lycurgus. We have shown that Cleomenes, in the course of his government, brought in greater innovations, and committed more violent acts of injustice And those that are inclined to censure the persons of whom we are writing, represent Cleomenes as, from the first, of a tyrannical disposition and a lover of war. The Gracchi they accuse of immo- derate ambition, malignity itself not being able to find any flaw in them. At the same time they acknowledge that those tribunes might possibly be carried beyond the dictates of their native dis- position by anger, and the heat of contention, behaved with greater courage and vigor than he | which, like so many hurricanes, drove them at in other wars, none was so slow to lift up his | last upon some extremes in their administration. hand against a fellow-citizen. He went out un- j What could be more just or meritorious than armed to a scene of fury and seuition; when the i their first design, to which they would have ad- fight began, he retired; and, through the whole, ap- j hered, had not the rich and great, by the violent peared more solicitous to avoid the doing of harm I methods they took to abrogate tlieir law, involved than the receiving it. The flight, therefore, of | them both in those fatal quarrels; the one to de- the Gracchi must not be considered as an act of fend himself, and the other to revenge his brother, cowardice, but patriotic discretion. For they j who was taken off without any form of law and were under a necessity either of taking the 'justice? method tbey did, or of fighting in their own de- : From these observations, you may easily per- fense if they stayed. j ceive the difference between them; and, if you The strongest cbarge against Tiberius is, that required me to characterize each of them singly, I he deposed his colleague, and sued for a second should say that the palm of virtue belongs to Ti- tribuneship. Caius was blamed for the death of i berius; young Agis had the fewest faults; and Antyllius; but against all reason and justice, for t Caius, in point of courage and spirit of enterprise the fact was committed without his approbation, i was little inferior to Cleomenes. DEMOSTHENES. WHOEVER it was, my Sossius, that wrote the encomium upon Alcibiades for his victory in the ehariot-race at the Olympic games; whether Euri- pides (which is the common opinion), or some other, he asserts, that The first requisite to hap- piness is, that a man be born in a famous city." But, as to real happiness, which consists principal- ly in the disposition and habit of the mind, for my part I think it would make no difference, though a man should be born in an inconsiderable town, or of a mother who had no advantages either of size or beauty; for it is ridiculous to suppose that Julis, a small town hi the isle of Ceos, which is not itself great, and jEgina, which an Athenian " wanted to have taken away, as an eye-sore to the Piraeus," should give birth to good poets and players,* and not be able to produce a man who might attain the virtues of justice, of contentment, and of magnanimity. Indeed, those arts, which are to gain the master of them considerable profit or honor, may probably not flourish in mean and insignificant towns. But virtue, like a strong and hardy plant, will take root in any place wheie * The poet Simonides was of Ceos; and Polus the act was of ^Egina. DEMOSTHENES. 545 can find an ingenuous nature and a mind that las no aversion to labor and discipline. There- fore, if our sentiments or conduct fall short of the point they ought to reach, we must not impute it to the obscurity of the place were we were born, but to our little selves. These reflections, however, extend not to an author who would write a history of events which happened in a foreign country, and cannot be come at in his own. As he has materials to collect from a variety of books dispersed in dif- ferent libraries, his first care should be to take up his res^ence in some populous town which has an ambition for literature. There he will meet with many curious and valuable books; and the particulars that are wanting in writers, he may, upon inquiry, be supplied with by those who have laid them up in the faithful repository of memory. This will prevent his work from being defective in any material point. As to myself, I live in a little town, and 1 choose to live there, lest it should become still less. When I was in Rome, and other parts of Italy, I had not leisure to study the Latin tongue, on account of the pub- lic commissions with which I was charged, and the number of people that came to be instructed by me in philosophy. It was not, therefore, until a late period in life, that I began to read the Roman authors. The process may seem strange; and yet it is very true. I did not so much gain the knowledge of things by the words, as words by the knowledge I had of things. I shall only add that, to attain such a skill in the language as to be master of the beauty and fluency of its expressions with its figures, its harmony, and all the other graces of its structure, would indeed be an ele- gant and agreeable accomplishment. But the practice and pains it requires are more than I have a time for, and I must leave the ambition to excel in that walk to younger men. In this book, which is the fifth of our parallels, we intend to give the lives of Demosthenes and Cicero, and from their actions and political conduct, we shall collect and compare their man- ners and dispositions; but, for the reason already assigned, we shall not pretend to examine their orations, or to determine which of them was the more agreeable speaker; for, as Ion says, What's the gay dolphin when he quits the waves, And bounds upon the shore? ,* a writer at all times much too presump- tuous, paid little regard to that maxim of the poet's, when he so boldly Attempted a comparison between Demosthenes and Cicero. But perhaps the precept, Know thyself, would not be considered as divine, if every man could easily reduce it to practice. It seems to me that Demosthenes and Cicero were originally formed by nature in the same mold, so great is the resemblance in their dispo- sition. The same ambition, the same love of lib- erty, appears in their whole administration, and the same timidity amid wars and dangers. Nor did they less resemble each other in their fortunes. For I think it is impossible to find two other ora- tors who raised themselves from obscure begin- nings to such authority and power; who both op- posed kings, and tyrants; who both lost their daughters; were banished their country, and re- turned with honor; were forced to fly again; were taken by their enemies, and at last expired the Caeeilius was a celebrated rhetorician, who lived in lie time of An<rn>tns. He wrote a treatise ou the sublime, iucii is mentioned by Lonyinus. same hour with the liberties of their country. So that, if nature and fortune, like two artificers, were to descend upon the scene, and dispute about their work, it would be difficult to decide whether the former had produced a greater resemblance in their dispositions, or the latter in the circumstances of their lives. We shall begin with the more an- cient. Demosthenes, the father of Demosthenes, was one of the principal citi/ens of Athens. Theo- ponxpus tells us, he was called the sword-cutler, because he employed a great number uf slaves in that business. As to what ^Eschines the orator relates concerning his mother,* that she was the daughter of one Gylon,f who was forced to fly for treason against the commonwealth, and of a bar- barian woman, we cannot take upon us to say whether it was dictated by truth, or by falsehood and malignity. He had a large fortune left him by his fattier, who died when he was only seven years of age; the whole being estimated at ittle less than fifteen talents. But he was greatly wronged by his guardians, who converted part to their own use; and suffered part to lie neglected. Nay, they were vile enough to defraud his tutors of their salaries. This was the chief reason that he had not those advantages of education to which his quality entitled him. His mother did not choose that he should be put to hard and laborious exercises, on account of the weakness and deli- cacy of his frame; and his preceptors, being ill paid, did not press him to attend them. Indeed, from the first, he was of a slender and sickly habit, insomuch that the boys are said to have given him the contemptuous name of Bata- lus,$ for his natural defects. Some say, Batalus was an effeminate musician, whom Antiphanes ridiculed in one of his farces; others, that he was a poet whose verses were of the most wanton and licentious kind. The Athenians, too, at that time, seem to have called a part of the body Batalus, which decency forbids us to name. We are told, that Demosthenes had likewise the name of Argas, either on account of the savage and morose turn of his behavior; for there is a sort of a serpent which some of the poets call Arc/as;^ or else for the severity of his expressions; which often gave his hearers pain; for there was a poet named Argas, whose verses were very keen and satirical. But enough of this article. His ambition to speak in public is said to have taken its rise on this occasion. The orator Callis- tratus was to plead in the cause which the city of Oropus || had depending; and the expectation of the public was greatly raised both by the powers of the orator, which were then in the highest re- pute, and by the importance of the trial. Demos- thenes hearing the governors and tutors agree * In his oration against Ctesiphon. t Gylon was accused of betraying to the enemy a town ia Pontus called Nymphseum; upon which, he fled intoScythia where he married a native of the country, and had two daughters by her; one of whom was marrie'd to Philocares, and the other, named Cleobule, to Demosthenes. Her tor- tune was fit'ty mina;, and of this marriage came Demosthe- nes the orator. J Hesychius gives a different explanation to the word Batalus, but Plutarch must be allowed, though Dacier will not here allow him to understand the sense of the Greek word as well as Hesychius. Hippocrates, too, mentions a serpent of that name. II Oropus was a town ou the banks of the Euripus, on th frontiers of Attica. The Thebans, though they had been relieved in their distress by Chabrias and the Athenians, for- got their services, and took Oropus from them. Chabria* was retained to plead affa'mst him. Demosthenes men- tiuns this iu his oration i^ain.u Phidias. At ihe time of tin* tiiui, lie was about suicau. 546 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. among themselves to attend the trial, with much importunity prevailed on his master to take him to hear the pleadings. The master having some acquaintance with the officers who opened the court, got his young pupil a seat where he could hear the orators without being seen. Callistratus had great success, and his abilities were extreme- ly admired. Demosthenes was fired with a spirit of emulation. When he saw with what distinc- tion the orator was conducted home, and com- plimented by the people, he was struck still more with the power of that commanding eloquence which could carry all before it. From this time, therefore, he bade adieu to the other studies and exercises in which boys are engaged, and applied himself with great assiduity to declaiming, in hopes of being one day numbered among the orators. Isoeus was the man he made use of as his preceptor in eloquence, though Isocrates then taught it; whether it was that the loss of his father incapacitated him to pay the sum of ten mince,* which was that rhetorician's usual price, or whether he preferred the keen and subtile manner of Isams, as more fit for publkj use. Herrnippus says he met with an account in certain anonymous memoirs that Demosthenes likewise studied under Plato,f and received great assistance from him in preparing to speak in pub- lic. He adds, that Ctesibius used to say, that Demosthenes was privately supplied by Callias the Syracusan, and some others, with the" systems of rhetoric taught by Isocrates and Alcidamus, and made his advantage of them. When his minority was expired, he called his guardians to account at law, and wrote orations against them. As they found many methods of chicane and delay, he had great opportunity, as Thucydides says, to exercise his talent for the bar.J It was not without much pains and some risk that he gained his cause; and, at last, it was but a very small part of his patrimony that he could recover. By this means, however, he ac- quired a proper assurance and some experience; and having tasted the honor and power that go in the train of eloquence, he attempted to speak in the public debates, and take a share in the ad- ministration. As it is said of Laomedon the Orchomenian, that, by the advice of his physicians, in some disorder of the spleen, he applied himself to running, and continued it constantly a great length of way, until he had gained such'excellent health and breath, that he tried for the crown at the public games, and distinguished himself in the long course: so it happened to Demosthenes, that he first appeared at the bar for the recovery of his own fortune, which had been so much embezzled; and having acquired in that cause a persuasive and powerful manner of speakiug,he contested the * Tliis could not be the reason, if what is recorded in the life of Tsaeus be true, that he was retained as tutor to De- moslhenes, at the price of a hundred mina. t This is confirmed by Cicero in his Hrutns. Lectitavisse Platonem studiose, audivisse etiam Demosthenes licitur: Idque avparct ex gcnerc et granditate verborum. Again, in his book De Oratore: quod idem de Demoatlient existimari potest, cujus ex eputtolistntelligi licet fjuam frequensfuerit Platonic auditor. It is possible that Cicero, in this place, alludes to that letter of Demosthenes, addressed to Hera- cliodoras, in which he thus speaks of Plato's philosophy. " Since you have espoused the doctrine of Plato, which "is o distant from avarice, from artifice, and violence; a doc- trine whose object, is the perfection of goodness and justice! Immortal gods! when once a man has adopted this dootrinej is it possible he should deviate from truth, or entertain one selfish or ungenerous sentiment? " t He lost his father at the age of seven, and he was ten years in the hands of guardians. He therefore beo-an to plead in his eighteenth year, which, as it was only in his own private affairs, was not forbidden by the laws. crown, as I may call it, with the other orators be- fore the general assembly. However, in his first address to the people, he was laughed at and interrupted by their clamors; for the violence of his manner threw him into a confusion of periods, and a distortion of his argu- ment. Beside, he had a weakness and a stammer- ing in his voice, and a want of breath, which caused such a distraction in his discourse, that it was difficult for the audience to uuderstm;! him. At last, upon his quitting the assembly, Etinomua the Thriasian, a man now extremely old, found him wandering in a dejected condition iuathe Pi- raBiis. and took upon him to set him right. * You," said he, " have a manner of speaking very like that of Pericles; and yet you lose yourself out of mere timidity and cowardice. You neither bear up against the tumults of a popular assembly, nor prepare your body by exercise for the labor of the rostrum, but suffer your parts to wither away in negligence and indolence." Another time, we are told, when his speeches had been ill received, and he was going home with his head covered, and in the greatest distress, Satyrus the player, who was an acquaintance of his, followed and went in with him: Demosthenes lamented to him, " That, though he was the most laborious of all the orators, and had almost sacri- ficed his health to that application, yet he could gain no favor with the people; but drunken sea- men and other unlettered persons were heard, anc kept the rostrum, while he was entirely disre- garded."* " You say true," answered Satyrus. " but I T. ill soon provide a remedy, if you wil repeat to me some speech in Euripides or Sopho- cles." When Demosthenes had done, -Sa'/riw pronounced the same speech; and he d;J it vitK such propriety of action, and so muc'i \n char acter, that it appeared to the orator -qu.ito a dif- ferent passage. He now understood so well how much grace and dignity action adds to th best oration, that he though*, it a small matter to premeditate and compose, tbougli with the utmost care, if the pronunciation, and propriety of gesture were not attended to. Upon tiiis he buiit himself a subterraneous s>i,dy, which remained to our times. Thither ho repaired every d;ty to form his action and exercise his voice; and he would often stay there for two or three months together, shaving one side of his head, that, if he should happen to be ever so desirous of going abroad, the shame of appearing in that conditioa might keep him in. When he did go out upon a visit, or received one, he would take something that passed in con- versation, some business or fact that was reported to him, for a subject to exercise himself upon. As soon as he had parted from his friends, he went to his study, where he repealed the matter in order as it passed, together with (lie arguments for and against it. The substance of the speeches which he heard he committed to memory, and afterward reduced them to regular sentences and periods,! meditating a variety of corrections and new forms of expression, both for what others had said to him, and he had addressed to them. Hence, it was concluded that he was not a man of much genius; and that all his eloquence was the effect of labor. A strong proof of this seemed to be, that he was seldom heard to speak anything ex- tempore, and though the people often culled upon * This was the privilege of all democratic state*. Som* think, that by seamen he means Demades, whose profession was that of a mariner. t Cicero did the same, as we find in his epistles to Al- tions. These arguments he calls Theses polities DEMOSTHENES. 547 him by name, as he sat in the assembly, to speak to the poiut debated, he would not do it unless he came prepared. For this, man} 7 of the orators ridiculed him; and Pytheas, iu particular, told him, " That all his arguments smelled of the lamp." Demosthenes retorted sharply upon him, " Yes, indeed, but your lamp and mine, my friend, are not conscious to the same labors." To others he did not pretend to deny his previous applica- tion, but told them, " fie neither wrote the whole of his orations, nor spoke without first committing part to writing." He farther affirmed, "That this showed him a good member of a democratic state; for the comiug. prepared to the rostrum was a mark of respect for the people. Whereas, to be regardless of what the people might think of a man's address, showed his inclination for oligarchy, and that he had rather gained his point by force than by persuasion." Another proof they give us of his want of confidence on any sudden occa- sion, is, that when he happened to be put into disorder by the tumultuary behavior of the people, Demades often rose up to support him in an ex- tempore address, but he never did the same for Demades. Wherefore, then, it may be said, did jEschines call him an orator of the most admirable as- surance? How could he stand up alone and re- fute Python the By/antian,* whose eloquence poured against the Athenians like a torrent? Arid when Lamachus the Myrrhenian f pro- nounced at the Olympic games an encomium which he had written upon Philip and Alexander, and in which he had asserted many severe and reproachful things against the Thebans and Olyn- thiaus, how could Demosthenes rise up and prove, by a ready reduction of facts, the many benefits for which Greece was indebted to the Thebans and Chalsidians, and the many evils that the flatterers of the Macedonians had brought upon their coun- try? This, too, wrought such a change in the minds of the great audience, that the sophist, his antagonist, apprehending a tumult, stole out of the assembly. Upon the whole, it appears that Demosthenes did not take Pericles entirely for his model. He only adopted his action and delivery, and his pru- dent resolution not to make a practice of speaking from a sudden impulse, or on any occasion that might present itself; being persuaded, that it was to that conduct he owed his greatness. Yet, while he chose not often to trust the success of his powers to fortune, he did not absolutely neg- lect the reputation which may be acquired by speaking on a sudden occasion. And, if we be- lieve Eratosthenes, Demetrius the Phalerean, and the comic poets, there was a greater spirit and boldness in his unpremeditated orations than in those he had committed to writing. Eratosthenes, * This was one of the most glorious circumstances in the life of Demosthenes. The fate of his country, in a great measure, depended on his eloquence. After Platsea was lost, and Philip threatened to march against Athens, the Attienians applied for succors to the Boeotians. When the league was established, and the troops assembled at Clitc.- ronea, Philip sent ambassadors to the council of Bneotta, the ehief of whom was Python, one of the ablest orators of his time. When he had inveighed with all the powers of elo- quence against the Athenians and their cause, Demosthe- nes anwered him, and carried the point in their favor. He was so elevated with this victory, that he mentions it in one of his orations, in almost the same terms that Plutarch has used here. t If we suppose this Lamachns to have been of Attica, the text should be altered from Myrrhenian to Mj/rrliinu- tian; for Myrrkintui was a borough of Attica. But there was a town called Myrrhine in ^Eolia, and another in Lem- ooc; and probably Lamachus was one of these. says that, in his, extemporaneous harangues, he often spoke as from a supernatural impulse; and Demetrius tells us, that, in an address to the peo- ple, like a man inspired, he once uttered this oath in verse, By earth, by all her fountains, streams, and floods. One of the comic writers calls him Rkopoperpere- thras,* and another, ridiculing his frequent use of the antithesis, says, " As lie took, so lie retook." For Demosthenes affected to use that expression. Possibly, Antiphanes played upon that passage in the oration concerning the isle of Halonesus, in which Demosthenes advised the Athenians, "not to take, but to retake it from Philip. "f It was agreed, however, on all hands, that De- mades excelled all the orators when he trusted to nature only; and that his sudden effusions were superior to the labored speeches of Demosthenes. Aristo of Chios gives us the following account of the opinion of Theophrastus concerning these orators. Being asked in what light he looked upon Demosthenes as an orator, he said, "I think him worthy of Athens: " what of Demades, "I think him above it." The same philosopher relates of Polyeucttis the Sphettian, who was one of the principal persons in the Athenian administration at that time, that he called "Demosthenes the greatest orator, and Phocion the most powerful speaker; " because the latter comprised a great deal of sense in a few words. To the same pur- pose, we are told, that Demosthenes himself, whenever Phocion got up to oppose him, used to say to his friends, " Here comes the pruning-hook of rny periods." It is uncertain, indeed, whether Demosthenes referred to Phocion's manner of speaking, or to his life and character. The latter might be the case, because he knew that a word or a nod from a man of superior character, is more regarded than the long discourses of another. As for his personal defects, Demetrius tha Phalerean gives us an account of the remedies h applied to them; and he says he had it from De- mosthenes in his old age. The hesitation and stammering of his tongue he corrected by prac- ticing to speak with pebbles in his mouth; and he strengthened his voice by running or walking up hill, and pronouncing some passage in an ora- tion or poem, during the difficulty of breath which that caused. He had, moreover, a looking- glass in his house, before which he used to de- claim and adjust all his motions. It is said that a man carne to him one day, and desired him to be his advocate against a person from whom he had suffered by assault. " Not you, indeed," said Demosthenes, " you have suf- fered no such thing." " What!" said the man, raising his voice, "have I not received those blows?" " Ay, now," replied Demosthenes, " you do speak like a person that has been injur- ed." So much, in his opinion, do the tone of voice and theaction contribute to gain the speaker credit in what he affirms. His action pleased the commonalty much; but people of taste (among whom was Demetrius the Phalerean) thought there was something in it low, inelegant, and unmanly- Hermippus ac- quaints us, that^Esion being asked his opinion of the ancient orators, and those of that time, said, "Whoever has heard the orators of former times, must admire the decorum and dignity with which * Jl haberdasher of small wares, or something like it t There is an expression something like what Plutarch has quoted, about the beginning of that oration. Libaniut suspects the whole of thai oration to be spurious; but this raillery of the poet on Demosthenes seems to prove thai it was of his hand. 548 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. they spoke. Yet when we read the orations of Demosthenes, we must allow they have more art in the composition, and greater force." It is needless to mention, that, in his written orations, there was something extremely cutting and se- vere: but, in his sudden repartees, there was also something of humor.* When Demades said, " Demosthenes to me ! a sow to Minerva !" our orator made answer, " This Minerva was found the other day playing the whore in Collytus." When a rascal, surnamed Ckalcus^ attempted to jest upon his late studies and long watchings, he said, "I know my lamp offends thee. But you need not wonder, my countrymen, that we have so many robberies, when we have thieves of brass, and walls only of clay." Though more of his sayings might be produced, we shall pass them over, and go on to seek the rest of his man- ners and character iu his actions and political con- duct. He tells us "himself, that he entered upon pub- lic business in the time of the Phocian war,$ and the same may be collected from his Philippics. For some of the last of them were delivered after that war was finished; and the former relate to the immediate transactions of it. It appears also, that he was two-and-thirty years old when he was preparing his oration against Midias; and yet, at that time he had attained no name or power in the administration. Tnis indeed, seems to be the reason of his dropping the prosecution for a sum of money. For, no prayer, no moving art E'er bent that fierce, inexorable heart. Pope. He was vindictive in his nature, and implaca- ble in his resentments. He saw it a difficult thing, and out of the reach of his interest, to pull down a man so well supported on all sides as Midias, by wealth and friends; and therefore he listened to the application in his behalf. Plad he seen any hopes or possibility of crushing his ene- my, I cannot think that three thousand drachmas could have disarmed his anger. He had a glorious subject for his political ambi- tion, to defend the cause of Greece against Philip. He defended it like a champion worthy of such a charge, and soon gained great reputa- tion both for eloquence and for the bold truths which he spoke. Ho was admired in Greece and courted by the king of Persia. Nay, Philip him- self had a much higher opinion of him than the other orators; and his enemies acknowledged that they hul to contend with a great man. For uEschines and Hyperides, in their very accusa- tions, give him such a character. I wonder, therefore, how Theopompus could say that he was a man of no steadiness, who was never long pleased either with the same persons or things. For, on the contrary, it appears, that he abode by the party and the measures which he first adopted; and was so far from quitting them during his life, that he forfeited his life rather than tie would forsake them. Demades, to excuse the inconsistency of his public character, used to say, " I may have asserted things contra- ry to my former sentiments, but not 'anything contrary to the true interest of the common- wealth." Melanopus, who was of the oppo- site party to Callistratus, often suffered himself to be bought off, and then said, by way of apo- * Longinus will not allow him the least excellence in ntters of humor or pleasantry. Cap. xxviii. t In the one hundred and sixth Olympiad, five hundred and thirty-three year* before ttie Christian era. Demos- Uenes was ihen in his twenty-seventh year. logy to the people, "It is true, the man is my enr my, but the public good is an overruling censifc eration." And JNicodemus the Messenian. wha first appeared strong in the interest of Cassander, and afterward in that of Demetrius, said. " He did not contradict himself, for it was always the best way to listen to the strong." But we havd nothing of that kind to allege against Demos- thenes. He was never a time-server either in his word or actions. The key of politics which ha first touched, he kept to without variation. Pana3tius, the philosopher, asserts, that most of his orations are written upon this principle, that virtue is to be chosen for her own sake only; that, for instance, of the crown, that against Ar- istocrates, that for the immunities, and the Phil- ippics. In all these orations, he does not exhort his countrymen to that which is most agreeable or easy, or advantageous; but points out honor and propriety as the first objects, and leaves the safety of the state, as a matter of inferior con- sideration. So that, if, beside that noble ambition which animated his measures, and the gen'eroua turn of his addresses to the people, he had been blessed with the courage that war demands, and had kept his hands clean of bribes, he would not have been numbered with such orators as Miro- cles, Polyeuctus and Hyperides, but have deserv- ed to be placed in a higher sphere with Cimou, Thucydides, and Pericles. Among those who took the reins of govern- ment after him, Phocion, though not of the party in most esteem (I mean that which seemed to favor the Macedonians), yet, on account of his probity and valor, did not appear at all inferior to Ephialtes, Aristides, and Cimon. But Demos- thenes had neither the courage that could be trusted in the field, nor was he (as Demetrius expresses it) sufficiently fortified against the im- pressions of money. Though he bore up against the assaults of corruption from Philip and the Macedonians, yet he was taken by the gold of Susa and Ecbatana. So that he was much bet- ter qualified to recommend, than to imitate th virtues of our ancestors. It must be acknow- ledged, however, that he excelled all the orators of his time, except Phocion, in his life and con- versation. And we find jn his orations, that he told the people the boldest truths, that he oppos- ed their inclinations, and corrected their errors with the greatest spirit and freedom. Theo- pompus also acquaints us, that, when the Athe- nians were for having him manager of a certain impeachment, and insisted upon it in a tumultu- ary manner, he would not comply, but rose up and said, " My friends, I will be your counselor whether you will or no; but a false accuser 1 will not be, how much soever you may wish it." His behavior in the case of Antipho was of the aristocratic cast.* The people had acquitted bira in the general assembly; and yet, he carried him before the Areopagus; where, without regarding the offense it might give the people, he proved that he had promised Philip to burn the arsenal; upon which, he was condemned by the council, and put to death. He likewise accused the priestess Theoris of several misdemeanors; and, among the rest, of her teaching the slaves many arts of imposition. Such crimes, he insisted, were capital; and she was delivered over to the executioner. Demosthenes is said to have written the oration of Apollodorus, by which he carried his cause against the general Tirnotheus, in an action of See his oration de Corona. DEMOSTHENES. 549 debt to the public treasury; as also those others against Phormio and Stephanus; which was a just exception against his character. For he composed the oration which Phormio had pro- nounced against Apollodorus. This, therefore, was like furnishing' two enemies with weapons out of the same shop to fight one another. He wrote some public orations for others before he had any concern in the administration himself, namely, those against Androtion, Timocrates and Aristocrates. For it appears that lie was only twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age when he published those orations. That against Aris- togitoii, and that for the immunities, he delivered himself at the request, as he says, of Ctesippus the son of Chabrias; though others tell us, it was because he paid his addresses to the young man's mother. He did not, however, marry her; for his wife was a woman of Samos, as Demetrius the Magnesian informs us, in his account of per- sons of the same name It is uncertain whether that against Machines, for betraying his trust as Ambassador,* was ever spoken; though Iclomen- eus affirms that ^Eschines was acquitted only by thirty votes. This seems not to be true, at least eo far as may be conjectured from both their ora- tions concerning the crown. For neither of them expressly mentions it as a cause, that ever came to trial. But this is a point which we shall leave for others to decide. Demosthenes, through the whole course of his political conduct, left none of the actions of the king of Macedon undisparaged. Even in time of peace he laid hold on every opportunity to raise suspicions against him among the Athe- nians, and to excite their resentment. Hence Philip looked upon him as a person of the great- est importance in Athens; and when he went with nine other deputies to the court of that prince, after having given them all audience, he answered the speech of Demosthenes with greater care than the rest. As to other marks of honor and respect, Demosthenes had not an equal share in them; they were bestowed principally upon JEschines and Philocrates. They, therefore, were large in the praise of Philip on all occasions; and they insisted, in particular, on his eloquence, his beauty, and even his being able to drink a great quantity of liquor. Demosthenes, who could not bear to hear him praised, turned these things off as trifles. " The first," he said, " was the prop- erty of a sophist, the second of a woman, and the third of a sponge; and not one of them could do any credit to a king." Afterward, it appeared that nothing was to be expected but war; for, on the one hand, Philip knew not how to it down in tranquillity; and, on the other, Demosthenes inflamed the Athenians. In this case, the first step the orator took was to put the people upon sending an armament to Eu- bo3a, which was brought under the yoke of Philip by its petty tyrants. Accordingly he drew up an edict, in pursuance of which they passed over to that peninsula, and drove out the Macedonians. His second operation was the sending succors to the Eyzantians and Perinthians, with whom Philip was at war. He persuaded the people to drop their resentment, to forget the faults which both those nations had committed in the confede- rate war, and to send a boijy of troops to their assistance. They did so, and it saved them from In this oration, Demosthenes accused ^Eschines of many capital crimes committed in the embassy on which he was sent to oblige Philip to swear to the articles of peace. Both that oration, and the answer of ^Eschines, are still ex- tant. ruin. After this, he went ambassador to the states of Greece; and, by his animating address, brought them almost all to join in the league against Philip. Beside the troops of the several cities, they took an army of mercenaries, to the number of fifteen thousand foot and two thousand horse into pay, and readily contributed to the charge. Theophrastus tells us, that, when the ullies desired their contributions might be settled, Crobylus the orator answered, " That war could not be brought to any set diet." The eyes of all Greece were nc\v upon these Tiovements; and all were solicitous for the event. The cities of Euboea, the Achaeans, the Corinth-, ians, the Megarensians, the Leucadians, the Cor- cyraeans, had each severally engaged for them- selves against the Macedonians. Yet the greatest work remained for Demosthenes to do; which was to bring the Thebans over to the league. Their country bordered upon Attica; they had a great army on foot, and were then reckoned the best soldiers in Greece. But they had recent obliga- tions to Philip in the Phocian war, and therefore it was not easy to draw them from him; especially when they considered the frequent quarrels and acts of hostility in which their vicinity to Athens engaged them. Meantime Philip, elated with his success at Am- . phissa, surprised Elatea, and possessed himself of Phocis. The Athenians were struck with aston- ishment, and not one of them durst mount the rostrum: no one knew what advice to give; but a melancholy silence reigned in the city. In this distress Demosthenes alone stood forth, and pro- posed, that application should be made to the Thebans. He likewise animated the people in his usual manner, and inspired them with fresh hopes; in consequence of which he was sent ambassador to Thebes, some others being joined in commission with him. Philip too, on his part, as Maryas in- forms us, sent Amyntus and Clearchus, two Mace- ionians, Doachus the Thessalian, and Thrasidsuus the Elean, to answer the Athenian deputies. The Thebans were not ignorant what way their true interest pointed; but each of them had the evils of war before his eyes; for their Phocian wounds were still fresh upon them. However, the powers of the orator, as Theopompus tells us, rekindled their courage and ambition so effectually that all other objects were disregarded. They lost sight of fear, of caution, of every prior attachment, and, through the force of his eloquence, fell with enthusiastic transports into the path of honor. So powerful, indeed, were the efforts of the orator, that Philip immediately sent ambassadors to Athens to apply for peace. Greece recovered her spirits, while she stood waiting for the event; and not only the Athenian generals, but the gov- ernors of Bo3otia, were ready to execute the com- mands of Demosthenes. All the assemblies, as well those of Thebes as those of Athens, were under his direction: he was equally beloved, equally powerful, in both places; and, as Theopompus shows, it was no more than his merit claimed. But the superior power of fortune, which seems to have been working a revolution, and drawing the liberties of Greece to a period at that time, opposed and baffled all the measures that could be taken. The deity discovered many tokens of the approach- ing event. Among the rest, the priestess of Apollo delivered dreadful oracles; and an old prophesy from the Sybilline books was then much repeated; Far from Thermodon's banks, when, stained with blood, Breotia trembles o'er the crimson flood, On eagle pinions let. me pierce the sky, And see the vanquished weep, the victor die! 550 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. This Thermodon. they say, is a small river in our country near Chseronea, which falls into the Cephisus. At present we know no river of that name; but we conjecture that the Haemon, which runs by the temple of Hercules, where the Greeks encamped, might then be called Thermodon; and the battle having filled it with blood and the bodies of the slain, it might, on that account, change its appellation. Durius, indeed, says, that Thermodon was not a river, but that some of the soldiers, as they were pitching their tents, and opening the rench.es, found a small statue, with an inscription, which signified, that the person represented was Thermodon holding a wounded Amazon in his arms. He adds that there was another oracle on the subject, much taken notice of at that time. Fell bird of prey, Wait thou the plenteous harvest which the sword Will give thee on Thermodon. But it is hard to say what truth there is in these accounts. As to Demosthenes, he is said to have had such confidence in the Grecian arms, and to have been so much elated with the courage and spirit of so many brave men calling for the enemy, that he would not suffer them to regard any oracles or prophesies. He told them, that he suspected the prophetess herself of Philippizing. He put the The bans in mind of Epaminondas, and the Athe- nians of Pericles, how they reckoned such things as mere pretexts of cowardice, and pursued the plan which their reason had dictated. Thus far Demosthenes acquitted himself like a man of spirit and honor. But in the battle, he performed noth- ing worthy of the glorious things he had spoken. He quitted his post; he threw away his arms; he fled in the most infamous manner; and was not ashamed, as Pytheas says, to belie the inscription, which he had put upon his shield in golden char- acters, TO GOOD FORTUNE. Immediately after the victory, Philip, in the elation of his heart, committed a thousand excesses. He drank to intoxication, and danced over the dead, making a kind of song of the first part of the decree which Demosthenes had procured, and beating time to it. Demosthenes the P&anean, son of Demosthenes has decreed. But when he came to be sober again, and considered the dangers with which he had lately been surrounded, he trembled to think of the prodigious force and power of that orator, who had obliged him to put both empire and life on the cast of a day, on a few hours of that day.* The fame of Demosthenes readied the Persian court; and the king wrote letters to his lieutenants, commanding them to supply him with money, and In attend to him more than to any other man in Greece; because he best knew how to make a diversion in his favor, by raising fresh troubles, and finding employment for the Macedonian arms nearer home. This Alexander afterward discovered by the letters of Demosthenes which he found at Surdis; and the papers of the Persian governors expressing tlip sums which had been given him. When the Greeks had lost this great battle, those of the contrary faction attacked Demosthenes, and brought a variety of public accusations against him. The people, however, not only acquitted him, but treated him with the same respect as before, and called him to the helm again, as a per- son whom they knew to be a well-wisher to his * Demades, the orator, contributed to bring him to the right use of his reason, when he told him with such distin- guished magnanimity, "That fortune had placed him in I the character of Agamemnor, bu< that h chose to play the 1 I'Mt of Thersites." country. So that, when the bones of those wb.4 fell at Chseronea were brought home to be interred, they pitched upon Demosthenes to make the fu- neral oration. They were, therefore, so far from bearing their misfortune in a mean and ungenerous manner, as Theopompus, in a tragical strain, rep- resents it; that by the great honor they did the counselor, they showed they did not repent of having followed his advice. Demosthenes accordingly made the oration.- But, after this, he did not prefix his own name to his edicts, because he considered fortune as inau- spicious to him; but sometimes that of one friend, sometimes that of another, until he recovered his spirits upon the death of Philip: for that prince did not long survive his victory at Chasronea, and his fate seemed to be presignified in the last of the verses above quoted. And see the vanquished weep, the victor die! Demosthenes had secret intelligence of the death of Philip; and in order to prepossess the people with hopes of some good success to come, he entered the assembly with a gay countenance, pre- tending he had seen a vision which announced something great for Athens. Soon after, messen- gers came with an account of Philip's death. The Athenians immediately offered sacrifices of acknowledgment to the gods for so happy an event, and voted a crown for Pausanias, who killed him. Demosthenes, on this occasion, made his appearance in a magnificent attire, and with a garland on his head, though it was only the sev- enth day after his daughter's death, as ^Eschines tells us, who, on that account, reproaches him as an unnatural father. But he must himself have been of an ungenerous and effeminate disposition, if he considered tears and lamentations as marks of a kind and affectionate parent, and condemned the man who bore such a loss with moderation. At the same time, I do not pretend to say the Athenians were right in crowning themselves with flowers, or in sacrificing, upon the death of a prince who had behaved to them with so much gentleness and humanity in their misfortunes: for it was a meanness, below contempt, to honor him in his life, and admit him a citizen; and yet, after he was fallen by the hands of another, not to keep their joy within any bounds, but to insult the dead, and sing triumphal songs, as if they had performed some extraordinary act of valor. I commend Demosthenes, indeed, for leaving the tears and other instances of mourning, which his domestic misfortunes might claim, to the wo- men, and going about such actions as ha thought conducive to the welfare of his country; for 1 think a man of such firmness and other abilities as a statesman ought to have, should always have the common concern in view, and look upon his private accidents or business as considerations much inferior to the public. In consequence of which, he will be much more careful to maintain his dignity than actors who personate kings and tyrants; and yet these, we see, neither laugh nor weep according to the dictates of their own pas- sions, but as they are directed by the subject of the drama. It is universally acknowledged that we are not to abandon the unhappy to their sorrows, but to endeavor to console them by rational dis- course, or by turning their attention to more agree- able objects; in the same manner as we desire those who have weak eyes to turn them from bright and dazzling colors, to green, or others of a softer kind. And what better consolation can there be under domestic afflictions, than to at- temper and alleviate them with the public success; DEMOSTHENES. 551 jo that, by such a mixture, the bad may be cor- rected by the good. These reflections we thought proper to make, because we have observed that this discourse of ^Eschines has weakened the minds of many persons, and put them upon in- dulging all the effeminacy of sorrow. Demosthenes now solicited the states of Greece again, and they entered once more into the league. The Thebans, being furnished with arms by De- mosthenes, attacked the garrison in their citadel, and killed great numbers; and the Athenians pre- ; pared to join them in the war. Demosthenes mounted the rostrum almost every day; and he wrote to the king of Persia's lieutenants in Asia, to invite them to commence hostilities from that quarter against Alexander, whom he called a boy, a second Margites.* But when Alexander had settled the affairs of his own country, and marched into Bo3otia with all his forces, the pride of the Athenians was humbled, and the spirit of Demosthenes died away. They deserted the Thebans; and that unhappy people had to stand the whole fury of the war by them- selves; in consequence of which they lost their city. The Athenians were in great trouble and confusion; and they could think of no better measure than the sending Demosthenes, and some others, ambassadors to Alexander. But Demos- thenes, dreading the anger of that monarch, turned back at Mount Cithceron, and relinquished his commission. Alexander immediately sent depu- ties to Athens, who (according to Idomeneus and Duris) demanded that they would deliver up ten of their orators. But the greatest part, and those the most reputable of the historians, say, that he demanded only these eight, Demosthenes, Poly- euctus, Ephialtes, Lycurgus, Myrocles, Damon. Callisthenes, and Charidemus. On this occasion, Demosthenes addressed the people in the fahle of the sheep, who were to give up their dogs to the wolves, before they would grant them peace: by which he insinuated, that he and the other orators were the guards of the people, as the dogs were of the flocks; and that Alexander was the great wolf they had to treat with. And again: " As we see merchants carrying about a small sample in a dish, by which they sell large quantities of wheat: so you, in us, without knowing it, deliver up the whole body of citizens." These particulars we have from Aristobulus of Cassandria. The Athenians deliberated upon the point in full assembly; and Demades seeing them in great perplexity, offered to go alone to the king of Macedon, and intercede for the orators, on con- dition that each of them would give liirn five talents; whether it was that he depended upon the friendship that prince had for him, or whether he hoped to find him, like a lion, satiated with blood, he succeeded, however, in his application for the orators, and reconciled Alexander to the city. When Alexander returned to Macedon, the re- putation of Demades, and the other orators of his party, greatly increased; ana that of Demosthenes gradually declined. It is true, he raised his head a little when Agis, king of Sparta took the field, but it soon fell again; for the Athenians refused to join him. Agis was killed in battle, and the Lacedaemonians entirely routed. About this time,t the affair concerning the crown, * Homer wrote a satire against this Margites, who ap- pears to have been a very eontemptihle character. t Demosthenes rehuilt the walls of Athens at his own expense; for which the people, a: the motion of Ctesiphon, decreed him a crown of gold. This excited the envy and jealousy of ^schines, who thereupon hrought that t'a'mous impeachment against. Demosthenes, which occasioned his inimitable oration de Corona. came again upon the carpet. The information was first laid under the archonship of Chserondas; and the cause was not determined until ten years after,* under Aristophon. It was the most cele- brated cause that ever was pleaded, as well on account of the reputation of the orators, as the generous behavior of the judges: for, though the prosecutors of Demosthenes were then in great power, as being entirely in the Macedonian in- terest, the judges would not give their voices against him; but, on the contrary, acquitted him so honorably that ^Eschines had not a fifth part of the suffrages.f ^Eschines immediately quitted Athens, and spent the rest of his days in teaching rhetoric at Rhodes and in Ionia. It was not long after this that Harpalus came from Asia to Athens.J He had fled from the service of Alexander, both because he was con- scious to himself of having falsified his trust, to minister to his pleasures, and because he dreaded his master, who now was become terrible to his best friends. As he applied to the people of Athens for shelter, and desired protection for his ships and treasures, most of the orators had an eye upon the gold, and supported his application with all their interest. Demosthenes at first advised them to order Harpalus off immediately, and to be particularly careful not to involve the city in war again, without any just or necessary cause. Yet a few days after, when they were taking an account of the treasure, Harpalus perceiving that Demosthenes was much pleased with one of the king's cups, and stood admiring the workman- ship and fashion, desired him to take it in his hand, and feel the weight of the gold. Demosthenes being surprised at the weight, and asking Harpa- lus how much it might bring, he smiled, and said, " It will bring you twenty talents." And as soon as it was night, he sent him the cup with that sum. For Harpalus knew well enough how to distin- guish a man's passion for gold by his pleasure at the sight and the keen looks he cast upon it. De- mosthenes could not resist the temptation: it made all the impression upon him that was expected; he received the money, like a garrison, into his house, and went over to the interest of Harpalus. Next day he came into the assembly with a quan- tity of wool and bandages about his neck; and when the people called upon him to get up and speak, he make signs that he had lost his voice. Upon which some that were by said, "it was no common hoarseness that he got in the night; it was a hoarseness occasioned by swallowing gold and silver." Afterward, when all the people wera apprized of his taking the bribe, and he wanted to speak in his own defense, they would not suffer him, but raised a clamor, and expressed their in- dignation. At the same time, somebody or othr stood up and said sneeringly, " Will you not listen to the man with the cup? " \ The Athenians then immediately sent Harpalus off; and fearing they might be called to account for the money with Plutarch must be mistaken here. It does not appear, upon the exactest calculation, to have been more than eight years. t This was a very ignominious circumstance; for if the accuser had not a fifth part of the suffrages, he was fined a thousand drachmas. t Harpalus had the charge of Alexander's treasure in Baby- lon, and, Haltering himself that he would never return from his Indian expedition, he gave into all manner of crimes and excesses. At last, when he found that Alexander was really returning, and that he took a severe account of such people as himself, he thought proper to march off, with 5000 talents and 6000 men into Attica. This alludes to a custom of the ancients at their feasts; wherein it was usual for the cup to pass from hand to hand; and the person who held it sang a song, to which the ret gave attention. 552 which the orators had been corrupted, they made a strict inquiry after it, and searched all their houses, except that of Callicles the son of Areni- des, whom they spared, as Tlieopompus says, be- cause he was newly married, and his bride was in his house. At the same time Demosthenes, seemingly with a design to prove his innocence, moved for an order that the affair should be brought before the court of Areopagus, and all persons punished who should be found guilty of taking bribes. In con- sequence of which, he appeared before that court, and was one of the first that were convicted. Be- ing sentenced to pay a fine of fifty talents, and to be imprisoned until it was paid, the disgrace of his conviction, and the weakness of his constitu- tion, which could not bear close confinement, determined him to fly; and this he did, undis- covered by some., and assisted by others. It is said, that when he was not far from the city, he perceived some of his late adversaries following,* and endeavored to hide himself. But they called to him by name; and when they came nearer, desired him to take some necessary supplies of money, which they had brought with them for that purpose. They assured him, they had no other design in following: and exhorted him to take courage. But Demosthenes gave into more Violent expressions of grief than ever, and said, " What comfort can I have, when I leave enemies in this city more generous than it seems possible to find friends in any other?" He bore his exile in a very weak and effeminate manner. For the most part, he resided inJSgina or Trrezene; where, whenever he looked toward Attica, the tears fell from his eyes. In his expressions there was no- thing of a rational firmness; nothing answerable to the bold things he had said and done in his administration. When he left Athens, we are told, he lifted up his hands toward the citadel, and said, " Minerva! goddess of those towers, whence is it that thou delightest in three such monsters as an owl, a dragon, and the people?" The young men who resorted to him for instruction he ad- vised by no means to meddle with affairs of state. He told them, " That, if two roads had been shown him at first, the one leading to the rostrum and the business of the assembly, and the other to certain destruction; and he could have foreseen the evils that awaited him in the political walk, the fears, the envy, the calumny, and contention; he would have chosen that road which led to im- mediate death." During the exile of Demosthenes, Alexander died.f The Greek cities once more combining upon that event, Leosthenes performed great things; and, among the rest, drew a line of cir- cumvallation around Antipater, whom he had shut up in Lamia. Pytheas the orator, with Cal- limedon and Carabus, left Athens, and, going over to Antipater, accompanied his friends and ambas- sadors in their applications to the Greeks, and in persuading them not to desert the Macedonian cause, nor listen to the Athenians. On the other hand, Demosthenes joined the Athenian deputies, and exerted himself greatly with them in exhort- ing the states to fall with united efforts upon the Macedonians, and drive them out of Greece. Philarchus tells us, that, in one of the cities of PLUTARCH'S LIVES. * It is recorded by Phocius, that ^Eschines, when he left Athens, was followed in like manner, and assisted by De- mosthenes; and that, when he offered him consolations he made the same answer. Plutarch, likewise, mentions this circumstance in the lives of the ten orators. t Olj rap. cxiv. Demosthenes was then in his fifty-eighth Tear. Arcadia, Pytheas and Demosthenes spoke with great acrimony; the one in pleading for the Macedonians, and the other for the Greeks. Pytheas is reported to have said, "As some sickness is always supposed to be in the house into which ass's milk is brought; so the city which an Athenian embassy evei enters must necessarily be in a sick and decaying condition." Demosthenes turned the comparison against him, by saying, " As ass's milk neve* enters but for curing the sick; so the Athenians never appear but for remedying some disorder." The people of Athens were so much pleased with this repartee, that they immediately voted for the recall of Demosthenes. It was Damon the Pajunean, cousin-german to Demosthenes, who drew up the decree. A galley was sent to fetch him from ^Egina; and when he came up from the Piraeus to Athens, the whole body of the citizens went to meet and congratulate him on his return; insomuch that there was neither a magistrate nor priest left in the town. Demetrius of Magnesia acquaints us, that Demosthenes lifted up his hands toward heaven in thanks for that happy day. " Happier," said he, "is my return than that of Aicibiades. It was through compassion that the Athenians restored him, but me they have recall- ed from a motive of kindness." The fine, however, still remained due: for they could not extend their grace so far as to repeal his sentence. But they found out a method to evade the law, while they seemed to comply with it. It was the custom, in the sacrifices to Jupiter the pre- server, to pay the persons who prepared and adorned the altars. They therefore appointed Demosthenes to this charge; and ordered that he should have fifty talents for his trouble, which was the sum his fine amounted to. But he did not long enjoy his return to his country. The affairs of Greece soon went to ruin. They lost the battle of Crano in the month of August,* a Macedonian garrison entered Muny- chia in September,! and Demosthenes lost his life in October.* It, happened in the following manner. When news was brought that Antipater and Craterus were coming to Athens, Demosthenes and those of his party hastened to get out privately before their arrival". Hereupon, the people, at the motion of Demades, condemned them to death. As they fled different ways, Antipater sent a company of soldiers about the country to seize them. Arehias, surnamed Phugadotherasa, Ike exile hunter, was their captain. It is said he was a native of Thu- riun** and had been some time a tragedian; they add, that Polus of JEgina, who excelled all the actors of his time, was his scholar. Hermippus reckons Archias among the disciples of Lacrittis the rhetorician; and Demetrius says he spent, some time at the school of Anaximenes. This Archias, however, drew Hyperides the orator, Aristonicus of Marathon, and Himerseus, the brother of De- metrius the Pluilerean out of the temple of ^Eacug in jEgina, where they had taken refuge, and sent them to Antipater at Cleonae. There they were executed; and Hyperides is said to have first had his tongue cut out. Archias being informed that Demosthenes had taken sanctuary in the temple of Neptune at Calauria, he and hisThracian soldiers passed over to it in row-boats. As soon as he was landed, he went to the orator, and endeavored to persuade him to quit the temple, and go with him to Anti- pater; assuring him that he had no hard measure to expect. But it happened that Demosthenet Metagitnion. t Boedromion. J Pyanepsiun. DEMOSTHENES. 553 had seen a strange vision the night before. He thought tliut lie was contending with Archias, which could play the tragedian the best; that he ucceeded in his action ; had the audience on his side, and would certainly have obtained the prize, had not Archias outdone him in the dresses and decoration!? of the theater. Therefore, when Archias had addressed him with great appearance of humanity, he fixed his eyes on him, and said, without rising from his seat, " Neither your action moved me formerly, nor do your promises move me now." Archias then began to threaten him; upon which he said, " Before, you acted a part; now you speak as from the Macedonian tripod. Only w^it awhile until I have sent my last orders to my family." So saying, he retired into the inner part of the temple: and, taking some paper, as if he meant to write, he put the pen in his mouth, and bit it a considerable time, as he used to do when thoughtful about his composition: after which, lie covered his head and put it in a reclining posture. The soldiers who stood at the door, apprehending that he took these methods to put off ttie fatal stroke, laughed at him, and called him a coward. Archias then approaching him, desired him to rise, and began to repeat the pro- mises of making his peace with Antipater. De- mosthenes, who by this time felt the operation of the poison he had taken strong upon him, un- covered his face, and looking upon Archias, u Now," said he, " you may act the part of Creon * in the play as soon as you please, and cast out this carcass of mine unburied. For my part, gracious Neptune! I quit thy temple with my breath within me. But Antipater and the Mace- donians would not have scrupled to profane it with murder." By this time he could scarcely stand, and therefore desired them to support him. But, in attempting to walk out, he fell by the altar, and expired with a groan. Aristo says he sucked the poison from a pen, as we have related it. One Poppus, whose me- moirs were recovered by Hennippus, reports, that, when he fell by the altar, there was found on his paper the beginning of a letter, "Demosthenes to Antipater," and nothing more. He adds, that people being surprised that he died so quickly, the Thracians who stood at the door assured them that he took the poison in his hand out of a piece of cloth, and put it to his month. To them it had the appearance of gold. Upon inquiry made by Archiu, a young maid who served Demosthe- nes, said, he had long wore that piece of cloth by way of amulet. Eratosthenes tells us, that he kept the poison in the hollow of a bracelet button which he wore upon his arm. Many others have written upon the subject; but it is riot necessary to give all their different accounts. We shall only add, that Demochares, a servant of Demos- henes, asserts, that he did not think his death owing to poison, but to the favor of the gods, and a happy providence, which snatched him from he cruelty' of the Macedonians by a speedy and $asy death. He died on the sixteenth of October, which is the most mournful day in the ceremo- lies of the Thesmophoria.* The women keep it with fasting in the temple of Ceres. It was not long before the people of Athens paid him the honors that were due to him, by erecting his statue in brass, and decreeing that the eldest of his family should be maintained in the Prytaneum, at the public charge. This cele- brated inscription was put upon the pedestal of his statue: Divine in speech, in judgment, too, divine, Had valor's wreath, .Demosthenes, been thine, Fair Greece had still her freedom's ensign borne, And held the scourge of Macedon in scorn! For no regared is to be paid to those who say that Demosthenes himself uttered these lines m Calauria, just before he took the poison. f A little before I visited Athens, the following adventure is said to have happened. A soldier being summoned to appear before the commanding officer upon some misdemeanor, put the little gold he had into the hands of the statue of Demos- thenes, which were in some measure clenched. A small plane tree grew by it, and many leaves, either accidentally lodged there by the winds, or purposely so placed by the soldier, covered the gold a considerable time. When he returned and found his money entire, the fame of this accident was spread abroad, and many of the wits of Athens strove which could write the best copy of verses to vindicate Demosthenes from the charge of corruption. As for Demades, he did not long enjoy the new honors lie had acquired. The Being, who took it in charge to revenge Demosthenes, led him into Macedonia, where he justly perished by the hands of those whom he had basely flattered. They had hated him for some time; but at last they caught him in a fact which could neither be excused nor pardoned. Letters of his were intercepted, iu which he exhorted Perdiccas to seize Macedonia, and deliver Greece, which, he said, " hung only by an old rotten stalk," meaning Antipater. Din- archus, the Corinthian, accusing him of this treason, Cassander was so much provoked, that he stabbed his son in his arms, and afterward gave orders fofr his execution. Thus, by the most dreadful misfortunes, he learned that traitors al- ways first fdl themselves; a truth which Demos- thenes had often told him before, but he would never believe it. Such, my Sossius, is the life of Demosthenes, which we have compiled in the best manner we could, from books and from tradition. Alluding to that passage in the Antigone of Sophocles, the body of Polynices to be buried. where Creon forbids * This was an annual festival in honor of Ceres. It began the fourteenth of October, and ended the eighteenth. The third day of the festival was a day of faAting and mor- tification; and this is the day that Plutarch speaks of. t This inscription, so far from doing Demosthenes honor, is the greatest disgrace that the Athenians could have fasten ed upon his memory. It reproaches him with a weakness which, when the safety of his country was at stake, \va such a deplorable want of virtue and manhood as no part* or talent could atone for. 554 PLUT ARCH'S LIVES. CICEEO THIS, account we have of Henlia, the mother of Cicero, is, that her family was noble,* and her character excellent. Of his father there is no- thing said but in extremes. For some affirm that he was the son of a fuller,* and educated in that trade, while others deduce his origin from Attius Tullus, a prince who governed the Volsci with great reputation. Be that as it may, I think tlie first of the family who bore the name of Cicero must have been an extraordinary man; and for that reason his posterity did not reject the appel- lation, but rather took to it with pleasure, though it was a common subject of ridicule: for the Latins call a vetch deer, and he had a flat excres- cence on the top of his nose, in resemblance of a vetch, from which he got that surname.^ As for the Cicero of whom we are wrting, his friends advised him, on his first application to business and soliciting one of the great offices of state, to lay aside or change that name. But he answered with great spirit, " That he would endeavor to make the name of Cicero more glorious than that of the Scauri and the Catuli." When quaestor in Sicily, he consecrated in one of the temples avase or some other offering in silver, upon which he inscribed his two first names Marcus Tullius, and, punning upon the third, ordered the artificer to engrave a vetch. Such is the account we have of his name. He was born on the third of January,|| the day on which the magistrates now sacrifice and pay their devotions for the health of the emperor; and it is said that his mother was delivered of him without pain. It is also reported that a specter ap- peared to his nurse, and foretold, that the child she had the happiness to attend would one day prove a great benefit to the whole commonwealth of Rome. Tiiese things might have passed for idle dreams, had he not soon demonstrated the truth of the prediction. When he waSof a pro- per age to go to school, his genius broke out with so much luster, and ,he gained so distinguished a reputation among the boys, that the fathers of some of them repaired to the school to see Cicero, and to have specimens of his capacity for literature; but the less civilized were angry with their sons when they saw them take Cicero in the middle of them as he walked, and always give him the place of honor. He had that turn of genius and disposition which Platof would have a scholar and philosopher to possess. He had both the ca- pacity and inclination to learn all the arts, nor was there any branch of science that he despised; yet he was most hiclinecUo poetry; and there is * Cinna was of this family. t Dion tells us that Q. Calenns was the author of this calumny. Cicero, in his books DC Legibus, has said enough to show, that both his father and grandfather were persons of property and of a liberal education. J The same prince to whom C'oriolanus retired four hun- dred years before. Pliny's account of the origin of this name is more prob- able, lie supposes, that the person who first bore it was remarkable tor the cultivation of vetches. So Fabius, Len- tulus, and Piso, had their names from beans, tares and peas. II In the six hundred and forty-seventh year of Rome: a hundred and four years before the Christi in era. Pompey was born in the same year. IT Plato's Commonwealth, lib. v. still extant a poem, entitled Pontius Glaucus,* which was written by him, when a boy, in tetram- ter verse. In process of time, when he had studied this art with greater application, he was looked upon as the best poet, as well as the great- est orator, in Rome. His reputation for oratory still remains, notwithstanding the considerable changes that have since been made in the lan- guage; but, as many ingenious poets have ap- peared since his time, his poetry has lost its credit and is now neglected.f When he had finished those studies through which boys commonly pass, he attended the lec- tures of Philo the academician, whom, of all the scholars of Clitornachus, the Romans most ad- mired for his eloquence, and loved for his con- duct. At the same time he made great improve- ment in the knowledge of the law, under Mucius Sca3vola, an eminent lawyer, and president of the senate. He likewise got a taste for military knowledge under Sylla, in the Marsian war.J But afterward, finding the commonwealth en- gaged in civil wars, which were likely to end in nothing but absolute monarchy, he withdrew to a philosophic and contemplative life, conversing with men of letters from Greece, and making far- ther advances in science. This method of life he pursued until Sylla had made himself master, and there appeared to be some established government again. About this time Sylla ordered the estate of one of the citizens to be sold by auction, in conse- quence of his being killed as a person proscribed; when it was struck off to Chrysogonus, Sylla's freedman, at the small sum of two thousand drach- ma. Roscius, the son and heir of the deceased, expressed his indignation, and declared that the estate was worth two hundred and fifty talents. Sylla, enraged at having his conduct thus public- ly called in question, brought an action against Roscius for the murder of his father, and appoint- ed Chrysogonus to be the manager. Such was the dread of Sylla's cruelty, that no maji offered to appear in defense of Roscius, ana nothing seemed left for him but to fall a sacrifice. In this distress he applied to Cicero, and the friends of the young orator desired him to undertake tho cause; thinking he could not have a more glori- ous opportunity to enter the lists of fame. Ac- cordingly he undertook his defense, succeeded, and gained great applause. But, fearing Sylla's resentment, he traveled into Greece, and gave out * This Glaucns was a famous fisherman, who, after eat- ing a certain herb, jumped into the sea, and became one of the gods of that element. ^Eschylus wrote a tragedy on the subject. Cicero's poem is lost. " t Plutarch was a very indifferent judge of the Latin poetry, and his speaking with so much favor of Cicero's, contrary to the opinion of Juvenal and many others, is a strong proof of it. He translated Aratus into verse at the age of seventeen, and wrote a poem in praise of the actions of Marius, which, Scasvola said, would live through innu merable ages. But he was out in his prophesy. It has long been dead. And the poem which he wrote in three books, on his own consulship, has shared the same fate. t In the eighteenth year of his age. lu his twenty-seventh year. CICERO. 555 that the recovery of his health was the motive. Indeed, lie was of a lean and slender habit, and his stomach was so weak that he was obliged to be very sparing in his diet, and not to eat until a late hour in the dav. His voice, however, had a variety of inflections, but was at the same time harsh and unformed; and, as in the vehemence and enthusiasm of speaking he always rose into a loud key, there was reason to apprehend that it might injure his health. When became to Athens, he heard Antiochus the Ascolonile,and was charmed with the smooth- ness and grace of his elocution, though he did not approve liis new doctrines in philosophy. For Antiochus had left the new academy, as it is called, and the sect of Carneades, either from clear con- viction and from the strength of the evidence of sense, or else from a spirit of opposition to the schools of Clitomachus and Philo, and had adopt- ed most of the doctrines of the Stoics. But Cicero loved the new academy, and entered more and aiore into its opinions; having already taken his resolution, if he failed in his design of rising in the state, to retire from the forum and all politic 5 '! intrigues, to Athens, and spend his days in peace in the bosom of philosophy. But not long after he received the news of Sylla's death. His body by this time was strengthened by exercise, and brought to a good habit. His voice was formed, and at the same time that it was full and sonorous, had gained a sufficient sweetness, and was brought to a key which his constitution could bear. Beside, his friends at Rome solicited him by letters to return, and An- tiochus exhorted him much to apply himself to public affairs. For which reasons he exercised his rhetorical powers afresh, as the best engines for business, and called forth his political talents. In short, he suffered not a day to pass without either declaiming, or attending the most cele- brated orators. In the prosecution of this design he sailed to Asia and the island of Rhodes. Among the rhetoricians of Asia, he availed him- self of the instructions of Xenocles of Adramytti- um, Dionysius of Magnesia, and Menippus of Caria. At Rhodes he studied under the rhetori- cian Apollonius the son of Molo,* and the philoso- pher Posidonius. It is said, that Apollouius, not understanding the Roman language, desired Cicero to declaim in Greek; and he readily com- plied, because he thought by that means his faults might the better be corrected. When he had ended his declamation, the rest were astonish- ed at his performance, and strove which should praise him most; but Apollonius showed no signs of pleasure while he was speaking; and when he had done, 'he sat a longtime thoughtful and bilent. At last, observing the uneasiness it gave his pupil. he said, "As for you, Cicero, I praise and admire you; but I am concerned for the fate of Greece. She had nothing left her but the glory of eloquence and erudition, and you are carrying that too to Rome," Cicero now prepared to apply himself to public affairs with great hopes of success: but his spirit received a check from the oracle at Delphi. For upon his inquiring by what means he might rise to the greatest glory, the priestess bade him "follow nature, and not take the opinion of the multitude for the guide of his life." Hence it was, that after his coming to Rome, he acted at first with great caution. He was timorous and * Not Apolloniiis the son of Molo, but Apollonius Molo. Tbe same mistake h made by our author in the life of Gwwr. backward in applying for public offices, and had the mortification to find himself neglected, and called a Greek, a scholastic; terms which the ar- tisans, and others, the meanest of the Romans, are very liberal in applying. But, as he was naturally ambitious of honor, and spurred on bo- side by his father and his friends, he betook him- self to the bar. Nor was it by slow and insensi- ble degrees that he gained the palm of eloquence; his fame shot forth at once, and he was dis- tinguished above all the orators of Romu. Yet it is said that his turn for action was naturally as defective as that of Demosthenes; and therefore he took all the advantage he could from the in- struction of Roscius, who excelled in comedy, and of ^Esop, whose talents lay in tragedy. This ./Esop, we are told, when he was one day acting Atreus, in the part where he considers in what manner he should punish Thyestes, being work- ed up by his passion to a degree of insanity, with his scepter struck a servant who happened sud- denly to pass by, and laid him dead at his feet. In consequence of these helps, Cicero found his powers of persuasion not a little assisted by action and just pronunciation. But as for those orators who gave into a bawling manner, he laughed at them, and said, "Their weakness made them get up into clamor, as lame men get on horseback." His excellence at hitting off a jest or repartee ani- mated his pleadings, and therefore seemed not foreign to the business of the/orw?n; but by bring- ing it much into life, he offended numbers of people, and got the character of a malevolent man. He was appointed quaestor at a time when there was a great scarcity of corn; and having Sicily for his province, he gave the people a great deal of trouble at first, by compelling them to send their corn to Rome. But afterward, when they came to experience his diligence, his justice, and moderation, they honored him more than any quaestor that Rome had ever sent them. About that time a number of young Romans, of noble families, who lay under the charge of having vio- lated the rules of discipline, and not behaved with sufficient courage in time of service, were sent back to the praBtor of Sicily. Cicero undertook their defense, and acquitted himself of it with great ability and success. As he returned to Rome, much elated with these advantages, he tells us* he met with a pleasant adventure. As he was on the road through Campania, meeting with a person of some eminence with whom he was acquainted, he asked him, "What they said and thought of his actions in Rome?" imagining that his name and the glory of his achievements had filled the whole city. His acquaintance answered, "Why where have you been, then,Cicero, all this time?" This answer dispirited him extremely; for he found that the accounts of his conduct had been lost in Rome, as in an immense sea, and had made no remarkable addition to his reputation. By ma- ture reflection upon this incident, he was brought to retrench his ambition, because he saw that con- tention lor glory was an endless thing, and had neither measure nor bounds to terminate it. Nevertheless, his immoderate love of praise, and his passion for glory always remained with him, and often interrupted his best and wisest de- signs. When he began to dedicate himself more earnest- ly to public business, he thought that, while me- chanics knew the name, the place, the use of In his oration for Planciu*. 556 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. every tool and instrument they take in their hands, though those tilings are inanimate, it would oe absurd for a statesman, whose functions cannot fte performed but by means of men, to be negligent in acquainting himself with the citizens. He therefore made it his business to commit to mem- ory. not only their names, but the place of abode of those of greater note, what friends they made use of s and what neighbors were in their circle. So that whatever road in Italy Cicero traveled, he could easily point out the estates and houses of his friends. Though his own estate was sufficient for his necessities, yet, as it was small, it seemed strange that he would take neither fee nor present for his services at the bar. This was most remarkable in the case of Verres. Verres had been prcetor in liicily. and committed numberless acts of injustice and oppression. The Sicilians prosecuted him, and Cicero gained the cause for them, not so much by pleading, as by forbearing to plead. The magistrates, in their partiality to Verres, put off the trial by several adjournments to the last day;* and as Cicero knew there was not time for the advocates to be heard, and the matter determined in the usual method, he rose up and said, " There was no occasion for pleadings." He therefore brought up the witnesses, and after their depositions were taken, insisted that the judges should give their verdict immediately. Yet we have an account of several humorous sayings of Cicero's in this cause. When an emancipated slave, Caecilius by name, who was suspected of being a Jew, would have set aside the Sicilians, and taken the prosecution of Verres upon himself,! Cicero said, "What has a Jew to do with swine's flesh?" For the Romans call a boar-pig verres. And when Verres reproached Cicero with effeminacy, he answered, "Why do you not first reprove your own children?" For Verres had a young son who was supposed to make an Infamous use of his advantages of person. Hortensius the orator did not venture directly to plead the. cause of Verres, but he was prevailed on to appear for him at the laying of the fine, and had received an ivory sphinx from him by way of consideration. In this case Cicero threw out several enigmatical hints against Hortensius; and when he said, " He knew not how to solve riddles," Cicero retorted, "That is somewhat strange, when you have a sphinx in your house." Verres being thus condemned, Cicero set his fine at seven hundred and fifty thousand drachmas; upon whicTi, it was said by censorious people, that he had been bribed to let him off so low.J The Sicilians, however, in acknowledgment of his assistance, brought him when he was sedile a number of things for his games, and other very valuable presents; but he was so far from consider- ing his private advantage, that he made no other use of their generosity than to lower the price of provisions. He had a handsome country seat at Arpinum, a farm near Naples, and another at Pompeii/but * Not until the last day: Cicero brought it on a/ew? days before Verres' friends were to come into office; but of the seven orations which were composed on the occasion, the two first only were delivered. A. U. 683. t Cicero knew that Csecilius was secretly a friend to Verres, and wanted, by this means, to bring him off. I This fine, indeed, was very inconsiderable. The legal fine for extortion, in such cases as that of Verres, was twice the sum extorted. The Sicilians laid a charge of 322,91W. against Verres; the fine must therefore have been 645,8&>/.; but 750,000 drachmae was no more than 24,218Z. Plutarch must, therefore, most probably have been mis- taken. neither of them were very considerable. His wife, Terentia, brought him a fortune of a hun- dred and twenty thousand denarii, and he fell heir to something that amounted to ninety thousand more. Upon this he lived in a genteel, and at the same time a frugal manner, with men of letters, both Greeks and Romans, around him. He rare- ly took his meal before sunset; not that business or study prevented his sitting down to table soon- er, but the weakness of his stomach, he thought} required that regimen. Indeed, he was so exact in all respects in the care of his health, that he had his stated hours for rubbing and for the exer- cise of walking. By this management of his con- stitution, he gained a sufficient stock of health and strength for the great labors and fatigues he after- ward underwent. He gave up the town house, which belonged to his family, to his brother, and took up his resi- dence on the Palatine hill, that those who came to pay their court to him might not have too far to go. For he had a levee every day, not less than Crassus had for his great wealth; or Pompey for his power and interest in the army; though they were the most followed, and the greatest men in Rome. Pompey himself paid all due respect to Cicero, and found his political assistance very useful to him, both in respect to power and repu- tation. When Cicero stood for the prretorship, he had many competitors who were persons of distinc- tion, and yet he was returned first. As a presi- dent in the courts of justice, he acted with great integrity and honor. Licinius Macer, who had great interest of his own, and was supported, be- side, with that of Crassus, was accused before him of some default with respect to money. He had so much confidence in his own influence and the activity of his friends, that, when the judges were going to decide the cause, it is said he went home, cut his hair, and put on a white habit, as if he had gained the victory, and was about to return so equipped to the/orm. But Crassus met him in his court-yard, and told him that all the judges had given a verdict against him; which affected him in such a manner that he turned in again, took to his bed, and died.* Cicero gained honor by this affair, for it appeared that he kept strict watch against coruption in the court. There was another person, named Vatinius, an insolent orator, who paid very little respect to the judges in his pleadings. It happened that h had his neck full of scrofulous swellings. This man applied to Cicero about some business or other; and as that magistrate did not immediately comply with his request, but sat some time de- liberating, he said, " I could easily swallow such a thing, if I was praetor;" upon which Cicero turned toward him, and made answer, "But I have not so large a neck." When there were only two or three days of his office unexpired, an information was laid against Manilius for embezzling the public money. This Manilius was a favorite of the people, and they thought he was only prosecuted on Pompey's * The story is related differently by Valerius Maximus. He says that Macer was in court, waiting the issue, and perceiving that Cicero was proceeding to give sentence against him, he sent to inform him that he was dead, and, at the same time, suffocated himself with his handkerchief. Cicero, therefore, did not pronounce sentence against him, by which means, his estate was saved to his son Licinius Calvns. Notwithstanding this, Cicero him- self, in one of his epistles to Atticus, says, that he actually condemned him; and in another of his epistles, he s;>eaki of ihe popular esteem this affair procured him. Cic. F.f ad Att. 1. i, c. 3, 4. . CICERO. 557 account bfchig his particular friend. He desired to have a j*y Axed for his trial; and, as Cicero ap- pointed tbo next day, the people were much, of- fended, because, it had been customary for the praetors to allow the accused ten days at the least. The tribunes, therefore, cited Cicero to appear before the commons, and give an account of this proceeding. He desired to be heard in his own defense, which was to this effect. " As I have always behaved to persons impeached with all the moderation and humanity that the laws will allow, I thought it. wrong to lose the opportunity of treating Manillas with the same candor. I was master only of one day more in rny office of praetor, and consequently must appoint that; for to leave the decision of the cause to another magistrate was not the method for those who were inclined to serve Man ill us." This made a wonderful change in the minds of the people; they were lavish in their praises, and desired him to undertake the defense himself. This he read- ily complied with; his regard for Pompey, who was absent, not being his least inducement. In consequence hereof he presented himself before the commons again, and giving an account of the whole affair, took opportunity to make severe reflections on those who favored oligarchy, and envied the glory of Pompey. Yet, for the sake of their country, the patri- cians joined the plebeians in raising him to the consulship. The occasion was this. The change which Sylla introduced into the constitution at first seemed harsh and uneasy, but by time and custom it came to an establishment which many thought not a bad one. At present there were some who wanted to bring in another change, merely to gratify their own avarice, and without the least view to the public good. Pompey was engaged with the kings of Pontus and Armenia, and there was no force in Rome sufficient to sup- press the authors of this intended innovation. They had a chief of a bold and enterprising spirit, and the most remarkable versatility of rnannera; his name Lucius Catiline. Beside a variety of other crimes, he was accused of de- bauching his own daughter, and killing his own brother. To screen himself from prosecution for the latter, he persuaded Sylla to put his brother among the proscribed, as if he had been still alive. These profligates, with such a leader, among other engagements of secrecy and fideli- ty, sacrificed a man, and ate of his flesh. Cati- line had corrupted great part of the Roman youth by indulging their desires in every form of pleasure, providing them wine and women, and setting no bounds to his expenses for these pur- poses. All Tuscany was prepared for the revolt, and most of Cisalpine Gaul. The vast inequal- ity of the citizens in point of property prepared Rome, too, for a change. Men of spirit among the nobility had impoverished themselves by their great expenses on public exhibitions and enter- tainments, on bribing for offices, and erecting magnificent buildings ; by which means the riches of the city were fallen into the hands of mean people: in this tottering state of the com- monwealth there needed no great force to over- set it, and it was in the power of any bold ad- venturer to accomplish its ruin. Catiline, however, before he began his opera- tions, wanted a strong fort to sally out from, and with that view, stood for the consulship. His prospect seemed very promising, because he hoped to have Caius Antonius for his colleague; a man who had no firm principles, either good or bad, nor any resolution of his own, but would make a considerable addition to the power of him that led him. Many persons of virtue and honor, perceiving this danger, put up Cicero for the consulship, and the people accepted him with pleasure. Tims Catiline was baffled, and Cicero* and Caius Antonius appointed consuls ; though, Cicero's father was only of the equestrian order, and his competitors of patrician families. Catiline's designs were not yet discovered to the people. Cicero, however, at is is entrance upon his office, had great affairs on his hands, the preludes of what was to follow. On the one hand, those who had been incapacitated by the laws of Sylla to bear offices, being neither incon- siderable in power, nor in number, began now to solicit them, and make all possible interest with the people. It is true, they alleged many just and good arguments against the tyranny of Sylla, but it was an unseasonable time to give the administration so much trouble. On the other hand, the tribunes of the people proposed laws which had the same tendency to distress the gov- ernment; for they wanted to appoint decemvirs, and invest them with an unlimited power. This was to extend all over Italy, over Syria, and all the late conquests of Pompey. They were to be commissioned to sell the public lands in these countries; to judge or banish whom they pleas- ed; to plant colonies; to take money out of the public treasury; to levy and keep on foot what troops they thought necessary. Many Romans of high distinction were pleased with the bill, and in particular Antony, Cicero's colleague, for he hoped to be one of the ten. It was thought, too, that he was no stranger to Catiline's designs, and that he did not disrelish them on account of his great debts. This was an alarming circum- stance to all who had the good of their country at heart. This danger, too, was the first that Cicero guarded against; which he did by getting the province of Macedonia decreed to Antony, and not taking that of Gaul, which was alioted to him- self. Antony was so much affected with this favor, that he was ready, like an hired player, to act a subordinate part under Cicero for the bene- fit of his country. Cicero having thus managed his colleague, began with greater courage to take his measures against the seditious party. He al- leged his objections against the law in the senate, and effectually silenced the proposers.f They took another opportunity, however, and coming prepared, insisted that the consuls should appear before the people. Cicero, not in the least inti- midated, commanded the senate to follow him. He addressed the commons with such success, that they threw out the bill; and his victorious eloquence had such an effect upon the tribunes, that they gave up other things which they had been meditating. He was indeed the man who most effectually showed the Romans what charms eloquence can add to truth, and that justice is invincible when properly supported. He showed also, that a magistrate who watches for the good of the com- munity should in his actions always prefer right to popular measures, and in his speeches know how to make those right measures agreeable, by separating from them whatever may offend. Of the grace and power with which he spoke, we have a proof in a theatrical regulation that took place in his consulship. Before, tho^e of the equestrian order sat mixed with the commonalty. * In his forty-third year. tThis vras the first of the three oration* de Lege Agra* \ ria. 558 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Marcus Otho, in his prsetorship, was the first who separated the knights from the other citizens, and appointed them seats which they still* enjoy. The people looked upon this a mark of dishonor, and hissed and insulted Otho when he appeared at the theater. The knights, on the other hand, received him with loud plaudits. The people re- peated their hissing, and the knights their ap- plause; until at last they came to mutual reproach- es, and threw the whole theater into the utmost disorder. Cicero being informed of the distur- bance, came and called the people to the temple of Bellona; where, partly by reproof, partly by lenient applications, he so corrected them, that they returned to the theater, loudly testified their approbation of Otho's conduct, and strove with the knights which should do him the most honor. Catiline's conspiracy, which at first had been intimidated and discouraged, began to recover its spirits. The accomplices assembled, and exhort- ed each other to begin their operations with vigor, before the return of Pompey, who was said to be already marching homeward with his forces. But Catiline's chief motive for action was the dependence he had on Sylla's veterans. Though these were scattered all over Italy, the greatest and most warlike part resided in the cities of Etru- ria, and in idea were plundering and sharing the wealth of Italy again. They had Manlius for their leader, a man who had served with great distinction under Sylla; and now entering into Catiline's views, they came to Rome to assist in the approaching election; for he solicited the con- sulship again, and had resolved to kill Cicero in the tumult of that assembly. The gods seemed to presignify the machina- tions of these incendiaries by earthquakes, thun- ders, and apparitions. There were also intima- tions from men, true enough in themselves, but not sufficient for the conviction of a person of Catiline's quality and power. Cicero, therefore, adjourned the day of election; and having sum- moned Catiline before the senate, examined him upon the informations he had received. Catiline, believing there were many in the senate who wanted a change, and at the same time being de- sirous to show his resolution to his accomplices who were present, answered with a calm firm- ness: " As there are two bodies, one of which is feeble and decayed, but has a head; the other strong and robust, but is without a head; what harm am I doing, if I give a head to the body that wants it?" By these enigmatical expressions he meant the senate and the people. Consequently Cicero was still more alarmed. On the day of election, he put on a coat of mail; the principal persons in Rome conducted him from his house, and great numbers of the youth attended him to the Campus Martins. There 'he threw back his robe, and showed part of the coat of mail, on purpose to point out his danger. The people- were incensed, and immediately gathered about him; the consequence of which was, that Cati- line was thrown out again, and Silanus and Mu- rena chosen consuls. Not long after this, when the veterans were assembling for Catiline in Etruria, and the day appointed for carrying the plot into execution ap- proached, three of the first and greatest person- ages in Rome, Marcus Crassus, Marcus Marcel- lus, and Metellus Scipio, went and knocked at Cicero's door about midnight: and having called About four years before, under the consulship of Piso and Glabrio. But Otho was not then prcetor; he was tri- bune. the porter, bade him awake his master, aa tell him who attended. Their business wa& this Crassus's porter brought him in a packet of letters after supper, which he had received from a per- son unknown. They were directed to different persons, and there was one for Crassus himself, but without a name. This only, Crassus read; and when he found that it informed him of a great massacre intended by Catiline, and warned him to retire out of the city, he did not open the rest, but immediately went to wait on Cicero: for he was not only terrified at the impending danger, but he had some suspicions to remove which had arisen from his acquaintance with Catiline. Ci- cero having consulted with them what was proper to be done, assembled the senate at break of day, and delivered the letters according to the di- rections, desiring at the same time that they might be read in public They all gave the same account of the conspiracy. Quintus Arrius, a man of pra?torian dignity, moreover, informed the senate of the levies that had been made in Etruria, and assured them that Manlius, with a considerable force, was hovering about those parts, and only waiting for news of an insurrection in Rome. On these informations, the senate made a decree, by which all affairs were committed to the consuls, and they were empowered to act in the manner they should think best for the preservation of the common- wealth. This is an edict which the senate sel- dom issue, and never but in some great and im- minent danger. When Cicero was invested with this power, he committed the care of things without the city to Quintus Metellus, and took the direction of all within to himself. He made his appearance every day attended and guarded by such a multi- tude of people, that they filled great part of the forum. Catiline, unable to bear any longer de- lay, determined to repair to Manlius and his army; and ordered Marcius and Cethegus to take their swords and go to Cicero's house early in the morning, where, under pretense of paying their compliments, they were to fall upon him and kill him. But Fulvia, a woman of quality, went to Cicero in the night to inform him of his danger, and charged him to be on his guard in particular against Cethegus. As soon as it was light, the assassins came, and being denied en- trance, they grew very insolent and clamorous, which made them the more suspected. Cicero went out afterward, and assembled the senate in the temple of Jupiter Stator, which stands at the entrance of the Via Sacra, in the way to the Palatine hill. Catiline came among the rest, as with a design to make his defense; but there was not a senator who would sit by him; they all left the bench he had taken; and when he began to speak they interrupt- ed him in such a manner that he could not be heard. At length Cicero rose up, and commanded him to depart the city: " for," said he, " while I em- plov only words, and you weapons, there should a "least be walls between us." Catiline, upon this, immediately marched out with three hun- dred men well armed, and with the fasces and other ensigns of authority, as if he had been a lawful magistrate. In this form he went to Manlius, and having assembled an army of twen- ty thousand men, he marched to Ike cities, in order to persuade them to revolt. Hostilities having thus openly commenced, Antony, Cbero's colleague, was sent against Catiline. Such as Catiline had corrupted, and though! CICERO. 559 proper to leave in Rome, were kept together and encounged by Cornelius Lentulus, surnarned Sura, a man of noble birlh, but bad life. He had been expelled the senate for his debaucheries, out was then prustor the second time; for that was a customary qualification when ejected per- sons were to be restored to their places in the eenate.* As to the surname of Sura, it is said to have been given him on Ihis occasion. When he was quresloriii the time of Sylla,he had lavished away vast sums of the public money. SyHa, in- censed at his behavior, demanded an account of him in full senate. Lentulus came up in a very careless and disrespectful manner, and said, " I have no account to give, but I present you with the calf of my leg;" which was a common expression among the boys, when they missed their stroke at tennis. Hence he had the surname of Sura, which is the Roman word for the calf of the leg. Another time, being prosecuted for some great offense, he corrupted the judges. When they had given their verdict, though he was acquitted only by a majority of two, he said, " He had put himself to a needless expense in bribing one of those judges, for it would have been sufficient to have had a majority of one." Such was the disposition of this man, who had not only been solicited by Catiline, but was moreover infatuated by vain hopes, which prog- nosticators and other impostors held up to him. They forged verses in an oracular form, and brought him them as from the books of the Si- byls. These lying prophesies signified the de- cree of fate, " That three of the Cornelii would be monarchs of Rome." They added, " That two had already fulfilled their destiny, China and Sylla; that he was the third Cornelius to whom the gods now offered the monarchy; and that he ought by all means to embrace his high fortune, and not ruin it by delays, as Catiline had done." Nothing little or trivial now entered into the schemes of Leutulus. He resolved to kill the whole senate, and as many of the other citizens as he possibly could; to burn the city, and to spare none but the sons of Pompey, whom he in- tended to seize and keep as pledges of his peace with that general; for by this time it was strongly reported that he was on his return from his great expedition. The conspirators had fixed on a night during the feast of the Saturnalia for the execution of their enterprise. They had lodged arms and combustible matter in the house of Ce- thegus. They had divided Rome into a hundred parts, and pitched upon the same number of men, each of whom wasallotted his quarter to set fire to. As this was to be done by them all at the same moment, they hoped that the conflagra- tion would be general; others were to intercept the water, and kill all that went to seek it. While these things were preparing, there hap- pened to be at Rome two ambassadors from the Allobroges, a nation that had been much oppress- ed by the Romans, and was very impatient under th"ir yoke. Lentulus and his party thought these ambassadors proper persons to raise commotions in Gaul, and bring that country to their interest, and therefore made them partners in the con- spiracy. They likewise charged them with let- ters to their magistrates and to Catiline. To the Gauls they promised liberty, and they desired Catiline to enfranchise the slaves, and march im- mediately to Rome. Along with the ambassa- * When a Roman senator waa expelled, an appointment to prsetorial office was a sufficient qualification for him to returns his seat. Dion. I xxxvii. dors they sent one Titus of Crotona to carry the letters to Catiline. But the measures of these in- considerate men, who generally consulted upon their affairs over their wine and in company with women, were soon discovered by the indefatiga- ble diligence, the sober address, and great capa- city of Cicero. He had his emissaries in all parts of the city, to trace every step they took; and had, beside, a secret correspondence with many who pretended to join in the conspiracy; by which means he got intelligence of their treating with those strangers. In consequence hereof, he laid in ambush for the Crotonian in the night, and seized him and the letters; the ambassadors themselves privately lending 1 him their assistance.* Early in the morn- ing he assembled the senate in the temple of Con- cord, where he read the letters, and took the de- positions of the witnesses. Julius Silanns de- posed, that several persons had heard Cethegus say, that three consuls and four praetors would very soon be killed. The evidence of Piso, a man of consular dignity, contained circumstan- ces of the like nature. And Caius Sulpitius, one of the prretors who was sent to Cethegus's house, found there a great quantity of javelins, swords, poniards, and other arms, all new fur- bished. At last the senate giving the Crotonian a promise of indemnity, Lentulus saw himself en- tirely detected, and laid down his office (for he was then prretor); he put off his purple robe in the house, and took another more suitable to his present distress. Upon which, both he and his accomplices were delivered to the pra3tors, to be kept in custody, but not in chains. By this time it grew late, and as the people were waiting without in great numbers for the event of the day, Cicero went out and gave them an account of it. After which, they conducted him to the house of a friend who lived in his neighborhood; his own being taken up with the women, who were then employed in the mysteri- ous rites of the goddess whom the Romans call Bona or the Good and the Greeks Gynecea. An annual sacrifice is offered her in the consul's house, by his wife and mother, and the vestal vir- gins give their attendance. When Cicero was retired to the apartments assigned for him, with only a few friends, he began to consider what punishment he should inflict upon the criminals. He was extremely loth to proceed to a capital one, which the nature of their offense seemed to demand, as well by reason of the mildness of his disposition, as for fear of incurring the censure of making an extravagant and severe use of his power against men who were of the first fami- lies, and had powerful connections in Rome. On the other side, if he gave them a more gentle chastisement, he thought he should still have something to fear from them. He knew that they would never rest with anything less than death; but would rather break out into the most desperate villanies, when their former wickedness was sharpened with anger and resentment. Beside, he might himself be branded with the marks of timidity and weakness, and the rather because he was generally supposed not to have much cour- age. Before Cicero could come to a resolution, the women who were sacrificing observed an extra- ordinary presage. When the fire on the altar seemed to be extinguished, a strong and bright These ambassadors had been solicited by Umbrenns to join his party. Upon mature deliberation, they thought <t safest to abide by the state, and discovered the plot to Fa- bius Sanga, the patron of their nation. 560 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. flame suddenly broke out of the embers. The other women were terrified at the prodigy, but the vestal virgins ordered Tereiitia, Cicero's wife, to go to him immediately, and command him, from them, " Boldly to follow his best judgment in the service of his country; because the goddess, by the brightness of this flame, promised him not only safety but glory in his enterprise." Teren- tia was by no means of a meek and timid dispo- sition, but had her ambition, and (as Cicero him- self says) took a greater share with him in poli- tics than she permitted him to have in domestic business. She now informed him of the prodigy, and exasperated him against the criminals. His brother Quintus, and Publius Nigidius, one of his philosophical friends, whom he made great use of in the administration, strengthened him in the same purpose. Next day the senate met to deliberate on the punishment of the conspirators, and Silanus, be- ing first asked his opinion, gave it for sending them to prison, and punishing them in the sever- est manner that was possible. The rest in their order agreed with him, until it came to Chius Caesar, who was afterward dictator. Caesar, then a young man, and just in the dawn of power, both in his measures and his hopes, was taking that road which he continued in, until he turned the Roman commonwealth into a monarchy. This was not observed by others, but Cicero had strong suspicions of him. He took care, how- ever, not to give him a sufficient handle against him. Some say the consul had almost got the necessary proofs, and that Cresar had a narrow escape. Others assert, that Cicero purposely neglected the informations that might have been had against him, for fear of his friends and his great interest. For, had Caesar been brought un- der the same predicament with the conspirators, it would rather have contributed to save than to destroy them. When it came to his turn to give judgment, he rose and declared, " Not for punishing them capitally, but for confiscating their estates, and lodging them in any of the towns of Italy that Cicero should pitch upon, where they might be kept in chains until Catiline was conquered."* To this opinion, which was on the merciful side, and supported with great eloquence by him who gave it, Cicero himself added no small weight: for in his speech he gave the arguments at large for both opinions, first for the former, and afterward for that of Caesar. And all Ci- cero's friends, thinking it would be less invidious for him to avoid putting the criminals to death, were for the latter sentence: insomuch that even Silanus changed sides; and excused himself by saying that he did not mean capital punishment, for that imprisonment was the severest which a Roman senator could suffer. The matter thus went on until it came to Lu- tatius Catulus. He declared for capital punish- ment: and Cato supported him, expressing in strong terms his suspicions of Csesar ; which so roused the spirit and indignation of the senate, that they made a decree for sending the conspira- tors to execution. Caesar then opposed the confis- cating their goods; for he said it was unreasonable, when they rejected the mild part of his sentence, to adopt the severe. As the majority still insisted upon it, he appealed to the tribunes. The tri- bunes, indeed, did not put in their prohibition, * Plutarch seems here to intimate, that after the defeat of "'atiline, they might be put upon their trial; but it ap- pears Irom (Sallust, that Cajsar bail no such intention. but Cicero himself gave up the point, and agreed that the goods should not be forfeited. After this Cicero went at the head of the senate to the criminals, who were not all lodged in one house, but in those .of the several praetors. First he took Lentulns from the Palatine hill, and led him down the Via Sacra, and through the middle of the Jorum. The principal persons in Rome at- tended the consul on all sides, like a guard; the people stood silent at the horror of the scene; and the youth looked on with fear and astonishment, as if they were initiated that day in some awful ceremonies of aristocratic power. When he had passed the forum, and 'was come to the prison, he delivered Lentulus to the executioner. After- ward he brought Cethegus, and all the rest in their order, and they were put to death. In his return he saw others who were in the conspiracy standing thick in the forum. As these knew not the fate of their ring-leaders, they were waiting for night, in order to go to their rescue, for they supposed them yet alive. Cicero, therefore, called out to them aloud, They did live. The Romans, who choose to avoid all inauspicious words, in this manner express death. By this time it grew late, and as he passed through the forum to go to his own house, the people now did not conduct him in a silent and orderly manner, but crowded to hail him with loud acclamations and plaudits, calling him ike savior and second founder of Rome. The streets were illuminated* with a multitude of lamps and torches placed by the doors. The women held out lights from the tops of the houses, that they might behold, and pay a proper compliment to the man who was followed with solemnity by a train of the greatest men in Rome, most of whom had distinguished themselves by successful wars, led up triumphs, and enlarged the. empire both by sea and land. All these, in their discourse with each other as they went along, acknowledged that Rome was indebted to many generals and great men of that age for pecuniary acquisitions, for rich spoils, for power; but for preservation and safety, to Cicero alone, who had rescued her from so great and dreadful a danger. Not that hia quashing the enterprise, and punishing the de- linquents, appeared so extraordinary a thing; but the wonder was, that he could suppress the greatest conspiracy that ever existed, with so little incon- venience to the state, without the least sedition or tumult. For many who joined Catiline left him on receiving intelligence of the fate of Lentulus and Cethegus; and that traitor, giving Antony battle with the troops that remained, was destroy- ed with his whole army. Yet some were displeased with this conduct and success of Cicero, and inclined to do him all pos- sible injury. At the head of this faction were some of the magistrates for the ensuing year; Caesar, who was to be praetor, and Metellus and Bestia, tribunes.f These last, entering upon their office a few days before that of Cicero's expired, would not suffer him to address the people. They placed their own benches on the rostra, and only gave him permission to take the oath upon laying down his office, J after which he was to descend * Illuminations are of high antiquity. They came origi- nally from the nocturnal celebration of religious mysteries; andj on that account, carried the idea of veneration and respect with them. t Bestia went out of office on the eighth of December. ATetelliu and Sextius were tribunes. The consuls took two oaths: one, on entering into their ollice, that they would act according to the laws; and the other, on quitting it, that they had not acted contrary to the laws. CICERO. 561 Immediately. Accordingly, when Cicero went up, it was expected that he would take the cus- tomary oath; but silence being made, instead of the usual form, he adopted one that was new and singular. The purport of it was, that " He had saved his country, and preserved the empire;" and all the people joined in it. This exasperated Caesar and the tribunes still more, and they endeavored to create him new troubles. Among other things they proposed a decree for calling Pompey home with his army to suppress the despotic power of Cicero. It was happy for him, and for the whole commonwealth, that Cato was then one of the tribunes; for he opposed them with an authority equal to theirs, and a reputation that was much greater, and con- sequently broke their measures with ease. He made a set speech upon Cicero's consulship, and represented it in so glorious a light that the highest honors were decreed him, and he was called the father of his country; a mark of distinction which none ever gained before. Cato bestowed that title on him before the people, and they confirmed it.* His authority in Rome at that time was un- doubtedly great, but he rendered himself obnoxious and burdensome to many, not by any ill action, but by continually praising and magnifying him- self. He never entered the senate, the assembly of the people, or the courts of judicature, but Catiline and Lentulus were the burden of his song. Not satisfied with this, his writings were so in- terlarded with encomiums on himself, that though his style was elegant and delightful, his discourses Were disgusting and nauseous to the reader; for the blemish stuck to him like an incurable disease. But though he had such an insatiable avidity for honor, he was never unwilling that others should have their share. For he was entirely free from envy; and it appears from his works that he was most liberal in his praises, not only of the ancients, but of those of his own time. Many of his remarkable sayings, too, of this nature, are preserved. Thus of Aristotle he said, -'That he was a river of flowing gold:" and of Plato's Dia- logues, "That if Jupiter were to speak, he would speak as he did." Theophrastus he used to call his particular favorite; and being asked which of Dernosthenes's orations he thought the best, he answered, " The longest." Some who affect to be zealous admirers of that orator, complain, in- deed, of Cicero's saying in one of his epistles, " That Demosthenes sometimes nodded in his orations:" but they forget the many great en- comiums he bestowed on him in other parts of his works; and do not consider that he gave the title of Philippics to his orations against Mark Antony, which were the most elaborate he ever wrote. There was not one of his contemporaries cele- brated either for his eloquence or philosophy, whose fame, he did not promote, either by speak- ing or writing of him in an advantageous manner. He persuaded Caesar, when dictator, to grant Cratippus the Peripatetic, the freedom of Rome. He likewise prevailed upon the council of Areo- pagus to make out an order for desiring him to remain at Athens to instruct the youth, and not deprive their city of such an ornament. There are, moreover, letters of Cicero's to Herodes, and others to his son, in which he directs them to study philosophy under Cratippus. But he ac- cuses Gorgias the rhetorician of accustoming his son to a life of pleasure and intemperance, and therefore forbids the young man his society. * Cl. Cains -vas the first who jjnve him the title. Cato, a? aibune, confirmed it before the people. 36 Among his Greek letters, this, and another to Pelops the Byzantine, are all that discover any- thing of resentment. His reprimand to Gorgias certainly was right and proper, if he was the dis- solute man that he passed for; but he betrays an excessive meanness in his expostulations with Pelops, for neglecting to procure him certain honors from the city of Byzantium. These were the effects of his vanity. Superior keenness of expression, too, which he had at com- mand, led him into many violations of decorum He pleaded for Munatius in a certain cause; and his client was acquitted in consequence of his defense. Afterward Munatius prosecuted Subi- nus, one of Cicero's friends ; upon which he Was so much transported -with anger as to say, " Thinkest thou it was the merit of thy cause that saved thee, and not rather the cloud which I threw over thy crimes, and which kept them from the sight of the court?" He had succeeded in an encomium on Marcus Crassus from the rostrum: and a few days after as publicly reproached him. " What!" said Crassus, " did you not lately praise me in the place where you now stand ?" " True:*' answered Cicero, " but I did it by way of experi- ment, to see what I could make of a bad subject. 5 * Crassus had once affirmed, that none of his family ever lived above threescore years: but afterward wanted to contradict it, and said, "What could I have been thinking of when I asserted such a thing!" "You knew," said Cicero, " that such an assertion would be very agreeable to the people of Rome." Crassus happened one day to profess himself much pleased with that maxim of th stoics, "The good man is always rich."* "I imagine," said Cicero, " there is another mor agreeable to you, All things belong to the prudent.** For Crassus was notoriously covetous. Crag sus had two sons, one of which resembled a maa called Accius so much that his mother was sus- pected of an intrigue 'vith him. This young man spoke in the senate with great applause; and Cicero being asked what he thought of him, answered in Greek axios Crassou.^ When Cras- sus was going to set out for Syria, he thought it better to leave Cicero his friend than his njemy.' and therefore addressed him one day in an oblig- ing manner, and told him he would come and sup with him. Cicero accepted the offer with equal politeness. A few days after, Vatinius likewise applied to him by his friends, and desired a recon- ciliation. "What!" said Cicero, " does Vatinius too want to sup with me?" Such were his jests upon Crassus. Vatinius had scrofulous tumors in his neck; and one day when he was pleading, Cicero called him "a tumid orator." An account was once brought Cicero that Vatinius was dead, which being afterward contradicted, he said, " May vengeance seize the tongue that told the lie!*' When Caesar proposed a decree for distributing the lands in Campania among the soldiers, many of the senators were displeased at it; and Lucius Gellius, in particular, who was one of the oldest of them, said, " That shall never be while I live.** "Let us wait awhile, then," said Cicero; "for Gellius requires no very long credit " Ther was one Octavius, who had it objected to him that he was an African. One day when Cicero * TT^VT* ttvy.1 rev roQit. The Greek ^s^oc signifies cun- ning, shrewd, prudent, as well as wise; and, in any of the former acceptations, the stoic maxim was applicable to Crassus. Thus frugi, in Latin, is used indifferently either for saving prudence, or for sober wisdom. t An ill-mannered pun, which signifies either that the yonnjr man was worthy of Crassus, or that h was th sou of Acciu*. 562 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Was pleading, this man paid he could not hear him. *' That is somewhat strange," said Cicero, "for you are not without a hole in your ear."* When Metellus Nepos told him, " That he had ruined more as an evidence than he had saved as an ad- vocate:" " I grant it," said Cicero, " for I have more truth than eloquence.'' A young man, who lay under the imputation of having given Iris father a poisoned cake, talking in an insolent manner, and threatening that Cicero should feel the weight of his reproaches, Cicero answered, " I had much rather have them than your cake." Publius Sestius had taken Cicero, among others, for his advocate, in a cause of some importance; and yet he would suffer no man to speak but himself. When it appeared that he would be acquitted, and the judges were giving their verdict, Cicero called to him, and said, "Sestius, make the best use of your time to-day, for to-rnorrow you will be out of office. "f Publius Cotta, who affected to be thought an able lawyer, though he had neither iearning nor capacity, being called in as a witness in a certain cause, declared, " He knew nothing of the matter." " Perhaps," said Cicero, " you think I am asking you some question in law." Metellus Nepos, in some difference with Cicero, often asking him, "Who is your father?" he re- plied, " Your mother has made it much more dif- ficult for you to answer that question." For his mother had not the most unsullied reputation. This Metellus was himself a man of a light un- balanced mind. He suddenly quitted the tribuui- tial office, and sailed to Pompey in Syria; and when he was there, he returned in a manner still more absurd. When his preceptor Phiiagrus died, he buried him in a pompous manner, and placed the figure of a crow in marble on his monument.} * This," said Cicero, "was one of the wisest things you ever did: for your preceptor has taught you rather to fly than to speak. " Marcus Ap- pius having mentioned, in the introduction to one of his pleadings, that his friend had desired him to try every source of care, eloquence, and fidelity in his cause, Cicero said, "What a hard-hearted man you are, not to do any one thing that your friend has desired of you?" It seems not foreign to the business of an ora- tor to use this cutting raillery against enemies or opponents; but his employing it indiscriminate- ly, merely to raise a laugh, rendered him extreme- ly obnoxious. To give a few instances: He used to call Marcus Aquilius, Adrastus, because he had two sons-in-law who were both in exile. || Lucius Cotta, a great lover of wine, was censor when Cicero solicited the consulship. Cicero, in the course of his canvass, happening to be thirsty, called for water, and said to his friends who stood round him as he drank, "You do well to conceal me, for you are afraid that the censor will call me to account for drinking water." Meeting Voco- nius one day with three daughters, who were very plain women, he cried out: On this conception Phcebus never stnilcd.TT * A mark of slavery among some nations; but the African* wore pendants in their ears by way of ornament. t Probably Sestius, not being a professed advocate, would not be employed to speak for anybody else; and therefore, Cicero meant that he should indulge his vanity in speaking for himself. t It was usual among the ancients to place emblematic figures on the monuments of the dead, and these were either such instruments as represented the profession of the de- ceased, or such animals as resembled them in disposition. Alluding to the celerity of his expeditions. H Because Adrastus had married his daughters to Eteocles and Polynices, who were exiled. IT A verse of Sophocles, speaking of Laius, the father of (Ediptu. Marcus Gellius, who was supposed to1>e of ser vile extraction, happened to read some letters in the senate with a loud and strong voice, " Do not be surprised at it," said Cicero, " for there j have been public criers in his family." Faustus, the son of Sylla the dictator, who had proscribed great numbers of Romans, having run deep in debt, and wasted great part of his estate, was obliged to put up public bills, for the sale of iU Upon which Cicero said, "I like these bills much better than his father's." Many hated him for those keen sarcasms; which encouraged Clodius and his faction to form their schemes against him. The occasion was this: Clodius, who was of a noble family, young and adventurous, entertained a passion for Pom- peia, the wife of Caesar. This induced him to get privately into the house, which he did in the habit of a female musician. The women were offering in Csesar's house that mysterious sacri- fice which is kept from the sight and knowledge of men. But, though no man is suffered to as- sist in it, Clodius, who was very young, and had his face yet smooth, hoped to pass through the women to Pompeia undiscovered. As he entered a great house in the night, he was puzzled to find his way; and one of the women belonging to Aurelia, Ca3sar's mother, seeing him wandering up and down, asked him his name. Being now forced to speak, he said he was seeking A bra, one of Pompeia's maids. The women, perceiving it was not a female voice, shrieked out, and called the matrons together. They immedi- ately made fast the doors, and, searching the whole house, found Clodius skulking iu the apartment of the maid who introduced him. As the affair made a great noise, Ceesar divorc- ed Pompeia, and prosecuted Clodius for that act of impiety. Cicero was at that time his friend; for during the conspiracy of Catiline, he had been ready to give him all the assistance in his power; and even attended as one of his guards. Clodius insisted, in his defense, that he was not then at Rome, but at a considerable distance in the coun- try. But Cicero attested that he came that very day to his house, and talked with him about some particular business. This was, indeed, matter of fact; yet probably it was not so much the influence of truth, as the necessity of satisfy- ing his wife Terentia, that induced him to de- clare it. She hated Clodius, on account of his sister Clodia; for she was persuaded that that lady wanted to get Cicero for her husband; and that she managed the design by one Tullus. As Tul- lus was an intimate friend of Cicero's, and like- wise constantly paid his court to Clodia, who was his neighbor, that circumstance strengthened her suspicions. Beside, Terentia was a woman of an imperious temper, and, having an ascendant over her husband, she put him upon giving evidence against Clodius. Many other persons of honor alleged against him the crimes of perjury, of fraud, of bribing the peopla, and corrupting the women. Nay, Lucullus, brought his maid-ser- vants to prove that Clodius had a criminal com- merce with his own sister, who was the wife of that nobleman. This was the youngest of the sisters. And it was generally believed that he had connections of the same kind with his other sis- ters; one of which, named Tertia, was married to Martius Rex; and the other, Clodia, to Metellua Celer. The latter was called Qnadrantaria^ because one of heriovers palmed upon her a purse of small brass money, instead of silver; the small- est brass coin being called nquadrans. It was on this sister's account that Clodius was most eeu- CIC ERO. 563 Btired. As the people set themselves both against . the witnesses and the prosecutors, the judges were so terrified that they thought it necessary to place a guard about the court; and most of them confounded the letters upon the tablets.* He seemed, however, to be acquitted by the majority; but it was said to be through pecuniary applica- tions. Hence Catulus, when he met the judges, said, "You were right in desiring a guard for your defense; for you were afraid that somebody would take the money from you." And when Clodius told Cicero thatthejudgesdid notgive credit to his deposition, "Yes," said he, "five and twenty of them believe me, for so many condemned you; nor did the other thirty believe you, for they did not acquit you until they had received your mo- ney." As to Caesar, when he was called upon, he gave no testimony against Clodius; nor did he affirm that he was certain of any injury done to his bed. He only said, "He had divorced Porn- peia, because the wife of Ca3sar ought no! only to be clear of such a crime, but of the very suspicion of it." After Clodius had escaped this danger, and was elected tribune of the people, he immediately at- tacked Cicero, and left neither circumstance nor person untried to ruin him. He gained the peo- ple by laws that flattered their inclinations, and the consuls by decreeing them large and wealthy provinces; for Piso was to have Macedonia, and Gabinius, Syria. He registered many mean and indigent persons as citizens; and armed a number of slaves for his constant attendants. Of the great triumvirate, Crassus was an avowed enemy to Cicero. Pompey indifferently caressed both parties, and Caesar was going to set out upon his expedition to Gaul. Though the latter was not his friend, but rather suspected of enmity since the affair of Catiline, it was to him that hi applied. The favor he asked of him was, that he would take him as his lieutenant; and Cresar granted it.f Clodius perceiving that Cicero would, by this means, get out of the reach of the tribuni- lial power, pretended to be inclined to a reconcili- ation. He threw most of the blame of the late difference on Terentia; and spoke always of Cicero in terms of candor, not like an adversary vindictively inclined, but as one friend might complain of another. This removed Cicero's fears so entirely} that he gave up the lieutenancy which Coesar had indulged him with, and began to attend to business as before. Caesar was so much piqued at this proceeding, that he encouraged Clodius against him, and drew off Pompey entirely from his interest. He de- declared, too, before the people, that Cicero, in his opinion, had been guilty of a flagrant violation of all justice and law, in putting Lentulus and Ceth- egus to death, ^lithout any form of trial. This was the charge which he was summoned to an- swer. Cicero then put on mourning, let his hair grow, and, with every token of distress, we;it about to supplicate the people. Clodius took care to meet him everywhere in the streets, with his audacious and insolent crew, who insulted him on his change of dress, and often disturbed his ap- plications by pelting him with dirt and stones. However, almost all the equestrian order went into mourning with him; and no fewer than twenty * See the Note on the parallel passage in the life of Caesar. t Cicero says that this lieutenancy was a voluntary offer i Of Cwsar's. Ep. ad Alt. t Ft does not appear that Cicero was influenced by this conduct of Clodius. He hal always expressed an indiflfer- | ence to the lieutenancy that was offered to him by Caisar. EJI. ad Alt. 1. ii, c. 38. thousand young men of the best families, attended him with their hair disheveled, and entreated the people for him. Afterward the senate met, witli an intent to decree that the people should change their habits, as in times of public mourning. But as the consuls opposed it, and Clodius beset the house with his armed band of ruffians, many of the senators ran out, rending their garments, and exclaiming against the outrage. But this spectacle excited neither compassion nor shame; and it appeared that Cicero must either go into exile, or decide the dispute with the sword. In this extremity he applied to Pompey for assistance; but he had purposely absented himself, and remained at his Alban villa. Cicero first sent his son-in-law Piso to him, and after- ward went himself. When Pompey was inform- ed of his arrival, he could not bear to look him in the face. He was confounded at the thought of an interview with his injured friend, who had fought such battles for him, and rendered him so many services in the course of his administration. But being now son-in-law to Ca?sar, he sacrificed his former obligations to that connection, and went out at a back door, to avoid his presence. Cicero, thus betrayed and deserted, had recourse to the consuls. Gabinius always treated him, rudely; but Piso behaved with some civility. He advised him to withdraw from the torrent of Clodius's rage; to bear this change of the times with patience; and to be once more the savior of his country, which, for his sake, was in all this trouble and commotion. After this answer, Cicero consulted with his friends. Lucullus advised him to stay, and as- sured him he would be victorious. Others were of opinion that it was best to fly, because the peo- ple would soon be desirous of his return, when they were weary of the extravagance and mad- ness of Clodius. He approved of this last advice; and taking a statue of Minerva, which he had long kept in his house with great devotion, he carried it to the Capitol, and dedicated it there, with this inscription: TO MINERVA THE PROTECT- RESS OF ROME. About midnight he privately quitted the city; and, with some friends who at- tended to conduct him, took his route on foot through Lucania, intending to pass from thence to Sicily. It was no sooner known that he was fled than Clodius procured a decree of banishment against him, which prohibited him fire and water, and ad- mission into any house within five hundred miles of Italy. But such was the veneration the people had for Cicero, that in general there was no re- gard paid to the decree, they showed him every sort of civility, and conducted him on his wav with the most cordial attention. Only at Hippo- nium, a city of Lucania, now called Vibo, one Vi- bius, a native of Sicily, who had particular obli- gations to him, and among other things, had an appointment under him, when consul, as surveyor of the works, now refused to admit him into his house; but at the same time acquainted him that he would appoint a place in the country for his reception. And Caius Virginius,* the prastor of Si- cily, though indebted to Cicero for considerableser- vices, wrote to forbid him entrance into that island. Discouraged at these instances of ingratitude, he repaired to Brundusium, where he embarked for Dyrrhachium. At first he had a favorable gale, but the next day the wind turned about, and drove him back to port. He set sail, however, again, as soon as the wind was fair. It is reported, * Some copies have i 664 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. that when he was going to land at Dyrrhachium, there happened to be au earthquake, and the sea retired to a great distance from the shore. The diviners inferred that his exile would be of no long continuance, for these were tokens of a sudden change. Great numbers of people came to pay their respects to him; and the cities of Greece strove which should show him the greatest civilities; yet lie continued dejected and disconsolate. Like a passionate lover he often cast a longing look toward Italy, and behaved with a littleness of spirit which could not have been expected from a man that had enjoyed such opportunities of cultivation from letters and phi- losophy. Nay, he had often desired his friends not to call him an orator, but a philosopher, be- cause he had made philosophy his business, and rhetoric only the instrument of his political oper- ations. But opinion has great power to efface the tinctures of philosophy, and infuse the passions of the vulgar into the minds of statesmen, who have a necessary connection and commerce with the multitude; unless they take care so to engage iu everything extrinsic as to attend to the busi- ness only, without imbibing the passions that are the common consequences of that business. After Clodius had banished Cicero, he burned his villas, and his house in Rome; and on the place where the latter stood, erected a temple to Liberty. His goods he put up to auction, and the crier gave notice of it every day, but no buyer appeared. By these means, he became formida- ble to the patricians; and having drawn the peo- ple with him into the most audacious insolence and effrontery, he attacked Pornpey, and called in question some of his acts and ordinances in the wars. As this exposed Pompey to some reflec- tions, he blamed himself greatly for abandoning Cicero; and, entirely changing his plan, took every means for effecting his return. As Clodius constantly opposed them, the senate decreed that no public business of any kind should be dis- patched by their body until Cicero was recalled. In the consulship of Lentulus, the sedition in- creased; some of the tribunes were wounded in the forum; and Quintus, the brother of Cicero, was left for dead among the slain. The people began now to change their opinion; and Annius Milo, one of the tribunes, was the first who ven- tured to call Clodius to answer for his violation of the public peace. Many of the people of Rome, and of the neighboring cities, joined Pompey; with whose assistance he drove Clodius out of the forum; and then he summoned the citizens to vote. It is said that nothing was ever carried among the commons with so great unanimity: and the senate, endeavoring to give still higher proofs of their attachment to Cicero, decreed that their thanks should be given the cities which had treated him with kindness and respect during his exile; and that his town and country houses, which Clodius had demolished, should be rebuilt at the public charge.* Cicero returned sixteen months after his ban- ishment; and such joy was expressed by the cities, so much eagerness to meet him by all ranks of people, that his own account of it is less than the truth, though he said, "That Italy had brought him on her shoulders to Rome." Cras- sus, who was his enemy before his exile, now rea- dily went to meet him, and was reconciled. In *The consuls decreed, for rebuilding his house in Rome near 11,()00/.; for his Tuscan villa, near 30002.; and for his Formian villa, about half that sum, which Cicero called a very scanty estimate. this, he said, he was willing to oblige his son Publius, who was a great admirer of Cicero. Not long after his return, Cicero, taking his opportunity when Clodius was absent,* went up with a great company to the Capitol, and de- stroyed the tribunitial tables, in which were re- corded all the acts in Clodius's time. Clodius loudly complained of this proceeding; but Cicero answered. " That his appointment as tribune was irregular, because he was of a pntrician family, and consequently all his acts were invalid." Cato was displeased, and opposed Cicero in this assertion. Not that he praised Clodius; on the contrary, he was extremely offended at his ad- ministration; but he represented, " That it would be a violent stretch at prerogative for the senate to annul so many decrees and acts, among which were his own commission and his regulations at Cyprus and Byzantium." The difference which this produced between Cato and Cicero did not come to an absolute rupture; it only lessened the warmth of their friendship. After this, Milo killed Clodius; and being ar- raigned for the fact, he chose Cicero for his ad- vocate. The senate, fearing that the prosecution of a man of Milo's spirit and reputation might produce some tumult in the city, appointed Pom- pey to preside at this and the other trials; and to provide both for the peace of the city and the courts of justice. In consequence of which, he posted a body of soldiers in the forum before day, and secured every part of it. This made Milo apprehensive that Cicero would be discon- certed at so unusual a sight, and less able to plead. He therefore persuaded him to come in a litter to the forum; and to repose himself there until the judges were assembled, and the court filled: for he was not only timid in war, but he had his fears when he spoke in public; and in many causes he scarce left trembling even in the hight and vehemence of his eloquence. When he undertook to assist in the defense of Licinius Mursena,f against the prosecution of Cato, he was ambitious to outdo Hortensius, who had already spoken with great applause; for which reason he sat up all night to prepare himself- But that watching and application hurt him so much that he appeared inferior to his rival. When he came out of the litter to open the cause of Milo, and saw Pompey seated on high, as in a camp, and weapons glistening all around the forum, he was so confounded that he could scarce begin his oration. For he shook, and his tongue faltered; though Milo attended the triat with great courage, and had disdained to let hia hair grow, or to put on mourning. These cir- cumstances contributed not a little to his condem- nation. As for Cicero, his trembling was imput- ed rather to his anxiety for his friend than to any particular timidity. Cicero was appointed one of the priests, called Augurs, in the room of young Crassuis, who was killed in the Parthian war. Afterward the prov- ince of Cilicia was allotted to him; and he sailed thither with an army of twelve thousand foot, and two thousand six hundred horse. He had it in charge to bring Cappadocia to submit to king Ariobarzanes; which he performed to the satis- faction of all parties, without having recourse to arms. And finding the Cilicians elated on the miscarriage of the Romans in Parthia, and the * Cicero had attempted this once before, when Clodius was present; but Cams, the brother of Clodius, bem j priet.or, bv his means they were rescued out of the hands of ! Cicero. 1 t Mnrs-na had retained three advocates, Horteniuu, Marcus Crassus, and Cicero. CICERO. 5G5 commotions in Syria, he brought them to order by the gentleness of his government. He refus- ed the presents which the neighboring princes of fered him. He excused the province from finding him a public table, and daily entertained at his own charge persons of honor and learning, not with magnificence indeed, but with ele- gance and propriety. He had no porter at his gate, nor did any man ever find him in bed; for he rose early in the morning, and kindly received those who came to pay their court to him, either standing or walking before his door. We are told, that he never caused any man to be beaten with rods, or to have his garments rent;* never gave opprobrious language in his anger, nor ad ded insult to punishment. He recovered the pub- lic money which had been embezzled; and en- riched the cities with it. At the same time he was satisfied, if those who had been guilty of such frauds made restitution, and fixed no mark of infamy upon them. He had also a taste of war; for he routed the bands of robbers, that had possessed themselves of Mount Arnanus, and was saluted by his army Imperator on that account.f Cuecilius,i the ora- tor, having desired him to send him some panthers from Cilicia for his games at Rome, in his answer he could not forbear boasting of his achieve- ments. He said, " There were no panthers left in Cilicia. Those animals, in their vexution to find that they were the only -objects of war, while everything else was at peace, were fled into Caria." In his return from his province he stopped at Rhodes, and afterward made some stay at Athens; which he did with great pleasure, in remembrance of the. conversations he. had formerly had there. He had now the company of all that were most famed for erudition ; and visited his former friends and acquaintances. After he had received all due honors and marks of esteem from Greece, he passed on to Rome, where he found the fire of dissension kindled, and everything tending to a civil war. When the senate decreed him a triumph, he said, '- He had rather follow Caesar's chariot wheels in his triumph, if a reconciliation could be effected between him and Pompey." And in private he tried every healing and" conciliating method, by writing to Cjesar, and entreating Pompey. After it came to an open rupture, and Caesar was- on his march to Rome, Pompey did not choose io wail for him, but retired, with numbers of the piMK-Mpal citizens in his train. Cicero did not attend him in his flight; and therefore it was believed that he would join Caesar. It is certain that he fluctuated greatly in his opinion, and was in the utmost anxiety For, he says in his epis- tles, "Whither shall I turn? Pompey has the more honorable cause; but Cossar manages his affairs with the greatest address, and is mostnble to save himself and his friends. In short, I know whom to avoid, but not whom to seek." At last, one Trebatius, a friend of Caesar's, signified to him by letter, that Ca?sar thought he had reason to reckon him of his side, and to consider him as This mark of ignominy was of great antiquity, " Wheiefore Hnnun took David's servants, and shaved off one-half of their beards, and cut off their garments to the middle, even to their buttocks, and sent them away." 2 fcarr. x. 4. t He not only received this mark of distinction, but pub- lic thanksgivings were ordered at Rome for his success; and the people went near to decree him a triumph. His iervi'-es, therefore, must have been considerable, and Plu- tarch seems to mention them too slightly. t Not Cseeilius, hut Caelius. He" was then aedile, and wanted the panthers for his nublic shows. partner of his hopes. But if his age would not permit it, he might' retire into Greece, and live there in tranquillity, without any connection with either party. Cicero was surprised th.it Caesar did not write himself, and answered angrily, " That he would do nothing unworthy of his po- litical character." Such is the account we havo of the matter in his epistles. However, upon Caesar's marching from Spain, he crossed the sea, and repaired to Pompey. His arrival was agreeable to the generality; but Cato blamed him privately for taking this measure. " As for me," said lie, " it would have been wrong to leave that party which I embraced from the beginning; but you might have been much more serviceable to your country and your friends, if you had staid at Rome, and accommo- dated yourself to events; whereas now, without any reason or necessity, you have declared your- self an enemy to Caesar, and are come to share in the danger with which you had nothing to do." These arguments made Cicero change his opin- ion; especially when he found that Pompey did not employ him upon any considerable service. It is true, no one was to be blamed for this but himself ; for he made no secret of his repenting. He disparaged Pompey's preparations; he insinu- ated his dislike of his counsels, and never spared his jests upon his allies. He was not, indeed, in- clined to laugh himself; on the contrary, ha walked about the camp with a very solemn coun- tenance; but he often made others laugh, though they were little inclined to it. Perhaps it may not be amiss to give a few instances. When Domitius advanced a man who had no turn for war to the rank of captain, and assigned for hia reason that he was an honest and prudent man; "Why then," said Cicero, "do yon not keep him for governor to your children?" When, some were commending Theophanes the Lesbi- an, who was director of the board of works, for consoling the Rhodians on the loss of their fleet, " See," said Cicero," what it is to have a Grecian director!" When Cresar was successful in al- most every instance, and held Pompey as it were besieged, Lentulns said, " He was informed that Caesar's friends looked very sour." " You mean, I suppose," said Cicero, " that they are out of humor with him." One Martius, newly ar- rived from Italy, told them a report prevailed at Rome that Pompey was blocked up in his camp: " Then," said Cicero, " you took a voyage on purpose to see it." After Pompey's defeat, Nonnius said, " there was room yet for hope, for there were seven eagles left in the camp." Ci- cero answered, " That would be good encourage- ment, if we were to fight with jackdaws." When Labienus, on the strength of some oracles, insisted that Pompey must be conqueror at last: " By this oracular generalship," said Cicero, "we have lost our camp." After the battle of Pharsalia (in which he was not present, on account of his ill health), and after the flight of Pompey, Cato, who had consi- derable forces, and a great fleet at Dyrrhachium, desired Cicero to take the command, because is consular dignity gave him a legal title to it. Cicero, however, not only declined it, but abso- "utely refused taking any further share in the war. Upon which, young Pompey and his friends called 'lim traitor, drew their swords, and would cer- tainly have dispatched him, had not Cato inter- posed, and conveyed him out of the camp. He got safe to Brundusium, and stayed there some time in expectation of Caesar, who wa detained by his affairs in Asia and Egypt 566 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. When he heard that the conqueror was arrived at Tarenturn, and designed to proceed from thence by land to Brundusium, he set out to meet him; not without hope, nor yet without some shame and reluctance at the thought of try- ing how he stood in the opinion of a victorious enemy before so many witnesses. He had no occasion, however, either to do or to say anything beneath his dignity. CaBsar no sooner beheld him, at some considerable distance, advancing before the rest, than he dismounted, and ran to embrace him; after which he went on discoursing with him alone for many furlongs. He continued to treat him with great kindness and respect; inso- much, that when he had written an encomium on Cuto, which bore the name of that great man, Coesar, in his answer, entitled Anlicato, praised both the eloquence and conduct of Cicero; and said he greatly resembled Pericles and Thera- menes. When Quintus Ligarius was prosecuted for bearing arms against CaBsar, and Cicero had under- taken to plead his cause, CaBsar is reported to have said, "What! may we not give ourselves a pleasure which we have not enjoyed so long, that of hear- ing Cicero speak; since I have already taken my resolution as to Ligarius, who is clearly a bad man, as well as my enemy?" But he was greatly moved when Cicero began; and his speech, as it proceeded, had such a variety of pathos, so irre- sistible a charm, that his color often changed, and it was evident that his mind was torn with con- flicting passions. At last, when the orator touch- ed on the battle of Pharsalia, he was so extremely affected, that his whole frame trembled, and he let drop some papers out of his hand. Thus, con- quered by the force of eloquence, he acquitted Ligarius. The commonwealth being changed into a mon- archy, Cicero withdrew from the scene of public business, and bestowed his leisure on the young men who were desirous to be instructed in philo- sophy. As these were of the best families, by his interest with them he once more obtained great authority in Rome. He made it his business to compose and translate philosophical dialogues, and to render the Greek terms of logic and natural philosophy in the Roman language. For it is said that he first, or principally, at least, gave Latin terms for these Greek w ords phantasia (im- agination), syncaiathesis (assent), epoche (doubt), catalepsis (comprehension), atomos (atom), ameres (indivisible), kenon (void), and many other such terms in science; contriving either by metaphori- cal expression, or strict translation, to make them intelligible and familiar to the Romans. His ready turn for poetry afforded him amusement ; for, we are told, when he was intent upon it, he could make five hundred verses in one night. As in this period he spent most of his time at his Tuaculan villa, he wrote to his friends, "That lie led the life of Laertes;" either by way of raillery, as his custom was, or from an "ambitious desire of public employment, and discontent in his present situation. Be that as it may, he rarely went to Rome, and then only to pay his court to Cfesar. He was always one of the first to vote him additional honors, and forward to say something new of him and his actions. Thus, when Ca?sar ordered Pompey's statues, which had been pulled down, to be erected again, Cicero said, "That by this act of humanity in setting up Pompey's sta- tues, he had established his own." It is reported that he had formed a design to write the history of his own country, in which he would have interwoven many of the Greciau affairs, and inserted not only their speeches, but fables But he was prevented by many disagree- able circumstances, both public and private, into most of whicii he brought himself by his own in- discretion. For, in the first place, he divorced his wife Terentia. The reasons he assigned were, that she had neglected him during the war, and even sent him out without necessaries. Beside, after his return to Italy, she behaved to him with little regard, and did not wait on him during his long stay at Brundusium. Nay, when his daugh- ter, at that time very young, took so long a journey to see him, she allowed her but an in- different equipage, and insufficient supplies. In- deed, according to his account, his house was become naked and empty through the many debta which she kad contracted. These were the most specious pretenses for the divorce. Terentia, however, denied all these charges ; and Cicero himself made a full apology for her, by marrying a younger woman not long after. Terentia said, he took her merely for her beauty ; but his freed- rnan Tyro affirms that he -married her for her wealth, that it might enable him to pay his debts. She was, indeed, very rich, and her fortune was in the hands of Cicero, who was left her guar- dian. As his debts were great, his friends and relations persuaded him to marry the young lady, notwithstanding the disparity of years, and satisfy his creditors out of her fortune. Antony, in his answer to the Philippics, taxes him with "repudiating a wife with whom he was grown old;"* and rallies him on account of his perpetually keeping at home, like a man unfit either for business or war. Not long after this match, his daughter Tullia, who, after the death of Piso, had married Lentulus, died in childbed. The Philosophers came from all parts to comfort him; for his loss affected him extremely; and he even put away his new bride, because she seemed to rejoice at the death of Tullia. In this posture were Cicero's domestic affairs. As to those of the public, he had no share in the conspiracy against Cajsar, though he was one of Brutus's particular friends; and no man was more uneasy under the new establishment, or more desirous of having the commonwealth restored Possibly they feared his natural deficiency of courage, as well as his time of life, at which the boldest begin to droop. After the work was done by Brutus and Cassius, the friends of Caesar as- sembled to revenge his death; and it was appre- hended that Rome would again be plunged in civil wars. Antony, who was consul, ordered a meeting of the senate, and made a short speech on the necessity of union. But Cicero expatiated in a manner suitable to the occasion; and per- suaded the senate, in imitation of the Athenians, to pass a general amnesty as to all that had been done against Cresar, and to decree provinces to Brutus and Cassius. None of these things, however, took effect; for the people were inclined to pity on this event; and when they beheld the dead body of Cresar carried into the forum, where Antony showed them his robe stained with blood, and pierced on all sides with swords, they broke out into a trans- port of rage. They sought all over the forum for the actors in that tragedy, and ran with lighted torches to burn their houses. By their precaution they escaped this danger; but as they saw others, no less considerable, impending, they left the city Antony, elated with this advantage, became for- midable to all the opposite party, who supposed Cicero was then sixty-two. CICERO. 567 that he would aim at nothing ess than absolute power; but Cicero had particular reason to dread him. For being sensible that Cicero's weight in the administration was established again, and of his strong attachment to Brutus, Antony could hardly bear his presence. Beside, there had long been some jealousy and dislike between them on account of the dissimilarity of their lives. Cicero, fearing the event, was inclined to go with Dola- belht into Syria, as his lieutenant. But afterward Hirlius and Pansa, who were to be consuls after Antony, peions of great merit, and good friends to Cicero, desired him not to leave them; and promised, with his assistance, to destroy Antony. Cicero, without depending much on their scheme, gave up that of going with Dolabella, and agreed with the consuls elect to pass the summer in Athens, and return when they entered upon their office. Accordingly he embarked for that place without taking any principal Roman along with him. But his voyage being accidentally retarded, news was brought from Rome (for he did not choose to be without news), that there was a wonderful change in Antony; that he took all his steps agreeably to the sense of the senate; and that nothing but his presence was wanting to bring matters to the best establishment. He therefore condemned his ex- cessive caution, and returned to Rome. His first hopes were not disappointed. Such crowds came out to meet him, that almost a whole day was spent at the gates, and on his way home, in compliments and congratulations. Next day Antony convened the senate and sent for Cicero: but he kept his bed, pretending that he was indis- posed with his journey. In reality he seems to have been afraid of assassination, in consequence of some hints he received by the way. Antony was extremely incensed at these suggestions, and ordered a party of soldiers either to bring him, or to burn his house in case of refusal. However, at the request of numbers who interposed, he re- voked that order, and bade them only bring a pledge from his house. After this, when they happened to meet, they passed each other in silence, and lived in mutual distrust. Meantime, young Caesar, arriving from Apollonia, put in his claim as heir to his uncle, and sued Antony for twenty-five million drachmas,* which he detained of the estate. Hereupon, Philip, who had married the mother, and Marcellus, who was husband to the sister of Octavius, brought him to Cicero. It was agreed between them that Cicero should assist Caesar with his eloquence and interest, both with the senate and the people; and thatCugsar should give Cicero all the protection that his wealth and military in- fluence could afford : for the young man had already collected a considerable number of the veterans who had served under his uncle. Cicero received the offer of his friendship with pleasure. For while Pompey and Caesar were living, Cicero, it seems, had a dream, in which he thought he called some boys, the sons of senators, up to the Capitol, because Jupiter designed to pitch upon one of them for sovereign of Rome. The citizens ran with all the eagerness of ex- pectation, and placed themselves about the tem- ple; and the boys in their praetextse sat silent. The doors suddenly opening, the boys rose up one by one, and, in their order, passing round the god, who reviewed them all and sent them away disappointed : but when Octavius approached, he * Plutarcli is mistaken in the sum. It appears, from Pa- terculus and others, ihaUt was seven limes as much. stretched out his hand to him, and saiJ, "Romans, this is the person who, when he comes to be your prince,will put an end to your civil wars." This vision, they tell us, made such an impression upon Cicero, that he perfectly retained the figure and countenance of the boy, though he did not yet know him. Next day he went down to the Campus Martius, when the boys were just re- turning from their exercises ; and the first who struck his eye was the lad in the very form that he had seen in his dream. Astonished at the dis- covery, Cicero asked him who were his parents; and he proved to be the son of Octavius, a person not much distinguished in life, and of Attia, sister to Caesar. As he was so near a relation, and Caesar had no children of his own, he adopted him, and, by will, left him his estate. Cicero, after his dream, whenever he met young Octavius, is said to have treated him with particular regard, and h received those marks of his friendship with great satisfaction. Beside, he happened to be born tha same year that Cicero was consul. These were pretended to be the causes of their present connection. But the leading motive with Cicero was his hatred <>f Antony; and the next, his natural avidity for glory. For he hoped to throw the weight of Octavius into the scale of the commonwealth; and the latter behaved to him with such a puerile deference, that ho even called him father. Hence, Brutus, in his letters to At- ticus, expressed his indignation against Cicero, and said, " That, as through fear of Antony, he paid his court to young Caesar, it was plain that he took not his measures for the liberty of his country, but only to obtain a gentle master for himself." Nevertheless, Brutus finding the son of Cicero at Athens, where he was studying under the philosophers, gave him a command, and em- ployed him upon many services which proved successful. Cicero's power at this time was at its greatest hight; he carried every point that he desired; in- somuch that he expelled Antony, and raised such a spirit against him, that the consuls Hirtius and Paasa were sent to give him battle; and Cicero likewise prevailed upon the senate to grant Caesar the fasces, with the dignity of praetor, as one that was fighting for his country. Antony, indeed, was beaten; but both the con- suls falling in the action, the troops ranged them- selves under the banners of Caesar. The senate now fearing the views of a young man who was so much favored by fortune, endeavored by hon- ors and gifts to draw his forces from him and to diminish his power. They alleged, that, as Antony was put to flight, there was no need to keep such an army on foot. Caesar, alarmed at these vigorous measures, privately sent some friends to entreat and persuade Cicero to pro- cure the consulship for them both; promising, at the same time, that he should direct all affairs ac- cording to his better judgment, and find him per- fectly tractable, who was but a youth, and had no ambition for anything but the title and the honor. Caesar himself acknowledged afterward, that, in his apprehension of being entirely ruined and deserted, he seasonably availed himself of Cicero's ambition, persuaded him to stand for the consulship, and undertook to support his applica- tion with his whole interest. In this case particularly, Cicero, old as he was, suffered himself to be "imposed upon by this young man, solicited the peopje for him, and brought the senate into his interest. His friends blamed him for it at the time; and it was not long before he was sensible that he had ruined himself, 568 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and given up the liberties of his country: for Caesar was no sooner strengthened with the con- sular authority, than he gave up Cicero;* and re- conciling himself to Antony and Lepidus, he unit- ed his power with theirs, and divided the empire among them, as if it had been a private estate. At the same time they proscribed about two hundred persons whom they had pitched upon for a sacrifice. The greatest difficulty and dis- pute was about the proscription of Cicero, for Antony would corne to no terms until he was first taken off. Lepidus agreed with Antony, iu this preliminary, but Csesar opposed them both. They had. a private congress for these purposes near the city of Bononia, which lasted three days. The place where they met was over against their camps, a little island in the river. Caesar is said to have contended for Cicero the two first days; but the third he gave him up. The sacrifices on each part were these: Caesar was to abandon Cicero to his fate; Lepidus, his brother Paulus; and Antony, Lucius Ctesar, his uncle by the mother's side. Thus rage and ran- cor entirely stifled in them all sentiments of hu- manity; or more properly speaking, they showed that no beast is more savage than man, when he is possessed of power equal to his passion. While his enemies were thus employed, Cicero was at his Tusculan villa, and his brother Quin- tus with him. When they were informed of the proscription, they determined to remove to Astyra, a country-house of Cicero's near the sea; where they intended to take a ship, and re- pair to Brutus in Macedonia; for it was reported that he was already very powerful in those parts. They were carried in their separate litters, op- pressed with sorrow and despair; and often join- ing their litters on the road. Quintus was the more dejected, because he was in want of neces- saries; for, as he said, he had brought nothing from home with him. Cicero, too, had but a slender provision. They concluded, therefore, that it would be best for Cicero to hasten his flight, and for Quintus to return to his house, and get some supplies. This resolution being fixed upon, they embraced each other with every ex- pression of sorrow, and then parted. A few days after, Quintus and his son were be- trayed by his servants to the assassins who carne in quest of them, and lost their lives. As for Ci- cero, he was carried to Astyra; where, finding a vessel, he immediately went on board, and coast- ed along to Circa3um with a favorable wind. The pilots were preparing immediately to sail from thence; but whether it was that he feared the sea, or had not yet given up all his hopes in Cae- sar, he disembarked, and traveled a hundred fur- longs on foot, as if Rome had been the place of his destination. Repenting, however, afterward, he left that road, and made again for the sea. He passed the night in the most perplexing and horrid thoughts; insomuch that he was some- times inclined to go privately into Cossar's house, and stab himself upon the altar of his domestic gods, to bring the divine vengeance upon his be- trayer. But he was dftterred from this by the fear of torture. Other alternatives, equally dis- tressful, presented themselves. At last, he put himself in the hands of his servants, and ordered them to carry him by sea to Cajeta,+ where he ha.l a delightful retreat in the summer, when the * Instead of taking himfoVhis colleague, he chose Quin- tus I'edins. t According to Appian, Cicero was killed near Capna; but Valerius Maximus says, the scene of that tragedy was ! Cajeta. Etesian' winds set in.* There was a temple of Apolio on that coast, from which a flight of crows came, with great noise, toward Cicero's vessel, as it was making land. They perched on both sides the sail-yard, where some sat croak- ing and others pecking the ends of the ropes. All looked upon this as an ill omen; yet Cicero went on shore, and, entering his house, lay down to re- pose himself. In the meantime a number of the crows settled in the chamber- window, and croaked in the most doleful manner. One of them even entered in, and alighting on the bed, attempted with its beak to draw off the clothes with which he had covered his face. On sight of this, the servants began to reproach themselves. " Shall we," said they, " remain to be spectators of our master's murder ? Shall we not protect him, so innocent and so great a sufferer as he is, when the brute creatures give him marks of their care and attention?" Then, partly by entreaty, and part- ly by force, they got him into his litter, and car* ried him toward the sea. Meantime the assassins came up. They were commanded by Herennius, a centurion, and Pom- pilius, a tribune, whom Cicero had formerly de- fended when under a prosecution for parricide. The doors of the house being made fast, they broke them open. Still Cicero did not appear^ and the servants who were left behind, said they knew nothing of him. But a young man, nam- ed Philologus, his brother Quintus's freed man, whom Cicero had instructed in the liberal arts and sciences, informed the tribune that they were carrying the litter through deep shades to the sea- side. The tribune, taking a few soldiers with him, ran to the end of the walk where he was to come out. But Cicero perceiving that Herennins was hastening after him, ordered his servants to set the litter down; and putting his left hand to his chin, as it was his custom to do, he looked steadfastly upon his murderers. Such an appear- ance of misery in his face, overgrown with hair, and wasted with anxiety, so much affected the attendants of Herennius that they Covered their faces during the melancholy scene. That officer dispatched him, while he stretched his neck out of the litter to receive the blow. Thus fell Ci- cero, in the sixty-fourth year of his age. Heren- nius cut off his head, and by Antony's command, his hands too, with which he bad written the Philippics. Such was the title he gave his ora- tions against Antony, and they retain it to this day. When these parts of Cicero's body were brought to Rome, Antony happened to be holding an assembly for the election of magistrates. He no sooner beheld them, than he ctied out," Now let there be an end of all proscriptions." He ordered the head and hands to be fastened up over the rostra, a dreadful spectacle to the Roman people, who thought they did not so much see the face of Cicero, as a picture of Antony's soul. Yet he did one act of justice on this occa- sion, which was the delivering up Philologus to Pomponia the wife of Quintus. When she was mistress of his fate, beside other horrid punish- ments, she made him cut off his own flesh by piecemeal, and roast and eat it. This is the ac- count some historians give us; but Tyro, Cicero's freedman, makes no mention of the treachery of Philologus. I am informed, that a long time after, Caesar going to see one of his grandsons, found him with a book of Cicero's in his hands. The boy, alarmed at the accident, endeavored to hide tne * The north-east winds DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO COMPARED. 569 oook under his robe; which Caesar perceived, and took it from him; and after having run most of it over as he. stood, he returned it and said, " My dear child, this was an eloquent man, and a lover of his country." Being consul at the time when he conquered Antony, he took the son of Cicero for his col- league; under whose auspices the senate took down the statues of Antony, defaced all the mon- uments of his honor, and decreed, that for the future, none of his family should bear the name of Marcus. Thus the divine justice reserved the completion of Antony's punishments for the house of Cicero. DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO COMPARED. THESE are the most memorable circumstances In the lives of Demosthenes and Cicero that could be collected from the historians which have come to our knowledge. Though I shall not pretend to compare their talents for speaking; yet this, I think, I ought to observe, that Demosthenes, by the exertion of all his powers, both natural and acquired, upon that object only, came to exceed in energy and strength, the most celebrated plead- ers of his time: in grandeur and magnificence of style, all that were eminent for the sublime of declamation; and, in accuracy and art, the most able professors of rhetoric. Cicero's studies were more general; and, in his treasures of knowledge, he hd a great variety. He has left us a number of philosophical tracts, which he composed upon the principles of the academy; and we see some- tiling of an ostentation of learning in the very orations which he wrote for the forum and the bar. Tiieir different tempers are discernible in their way of writing. That of Demosthenes, without any embellishments of wit and humor, is always grave and serious. Nor does it smell of the lamp, as Pytheas tauntingly said, but of the water-drinker, of the man of thought, of one who was characterized by the austeriiies of life. But Cicero, who loved to indulge his vein of plea- santry, so much affected the wit, that he some- times sunk into the buffoon; and by affecting gayety in the most serious things, to serve his cli- ent, he has offended against the rules of proprie- ty and decorum. Thus, in his oration forCteli- us, he says, " Where is the absurdity, if a man, with an affluent fortune at command, shall in- dulge himself in pleasure? It would be madness not to enjoy what is in his power; particularly when some of the greatest philosophers place man's chief good in pleasure."* When Cato impeached Muraena, Cicero, who was then consul, undertook his defense; and, in his pleading, took occasion to ridicule several par- adoxes of the stoics, because Cato was of that sect. He succeeded so far as fo raise a laugh in the assembly; and even among the judges. Upon which Cato smiled, and said to those who sat by him, "What a pleasant consul we have!" Cicero, indeed, was naturally facetious; and he not only loved his jest, but his countenance was gay and smiling. Whereas Demosthenes had a care and thoughtfulm-ss in his aspect, which he seldom or never put off. Hence his enemies, as h'e confess- es, called him a morose, ill-natured man. It appears also from their writings, that De- " Plutarch has not. quoted this passage with accuracy. Cicero apologizes for the excesses of youth; but does not defend or approve the pursuit of pleasure. mosthenes, when he touches upon his own praise, does it with an inoffensive delicacy. Indeed, he never gives into it at all, but when he has some great point in view; and on all other occasions is extremely modest. But Cicero, in his orations, speaks in such high terms of himself, that it is plain he had a most intemperate vanity. Thus ha cries out, Let arms revere the robe, the warrior's laurel Yield to the palm of eloquence. At length he came to commend not only his own actions and operations in the commonwealth, but his orations too, as well those which he had only pronounced as those he had committed to writing, as if, with a juvenile vanity, he were vying with the rhetoricians Isocrates and Anaxi- menes, instead of being inspired with the great ambition of guiding the Roman people, Fierce in the field, and dreadful to the foe. It is necessary, indeed, for a statesman to have the advantage of eloquence; but it is mean and illiberal to rest in such a qualification, or to hunt after praise in that quarter. In this respect De- mosthenes behaved with more dignity, with a su- perior elevation of soul. He said, " His ability to explain himself, was a mere acquisition; and not so perfect, but that it required great candor and in- dulgence in the audience." He thought it must be, as indeed it is, only a low and little mind, that can value itself upon such attainments. They both, undoubtedly, had political abilities, as well as powers to persuade. They had them in such a degree, that men who had armies at their devotion, stood in need of their support. Thus Chares, Diopithes, and Leosthenes availed them- selves of Demosthenes; Pompey and young Cresar, of Cicero; as Caesar himself acknowledges, in his Commentaries addressed to Agrippa and Ma3ce- nas. It is an observation no less just than common, that nothing makes so thorough a trial of a man's disposition, as power and authority, for they awake every passion, and discover every latent vice. Demosthenes never had an opportunity for a trial of this kind. He never obtained any emi- nent charge; nor did he lead those armies against Philip, which his eloquence had raised. But Ci- cero went qua3stor into Sicily, and proconsul into Cilicia and Cappadocia; at a time, too, when avarice reigned without control; when the gov- ernors of provinces, thinking it beneath them to take a clandestine advantage, fell to open plunder; when to take another's property was thought no great crime, and he who took moderately passed for a man of character. Yet, at such a time as this, Cicero gave many proofs of his contempt of money; many of his humanity and goodness. At 570 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Rome, with the title only of consul, he had an ab- solute and dictatorial power against Catiline and his accomplices. On whfeh occasion he verified the prediction of Plato, " That every state will be delivered from its calamities, when, by the favor of fortune, great power unites with wisdom and justice in one person." It is mentioned, to the disgrace of Demosthenes, that his eloquence was mercenary; that he pri- vately composed orations both for Phormio and Apollodorns, though adversaries in the same cause. To which we may add that he was sus- pected of receiving money from the king of Per- sia, and condemned for taking bribes of Harpalus. Supposing some of these the calumnies of those who wrote against him (and they are not a few): yet it is impossible to affirm that he was proof against the presents which were sent him by princes, as marks of honor and respect. This was too much to be expected from a man who vested his money at interest upon ships. Cicero, on the other hand, had magnificent presents sent him by the Sicilians, when he was aedile; by the king of Cappadocia, when proconsul; and his friends pressed him to receive their benefactions, when in exile; yet, as we have already observed, he refused them all. The banishment of Demosthenes reflected in- famy upon him: for he was convicted of taking bribes: that of Cicero, great honor; because he suffered for destroying traitors, who had vowed the ruin of their country. The former, therefore, departed without exciting pity or regret; for the latter, the senate changed their habit, continued in mourning, and could not be persuaded to pass any act until the people had recalled him. Cicero, indeed, spent the time of exile in an inactive man- ner in Macedonia; but with Demosthenes it was a busy period in his political character. Then it was (as we have mentioned above) that he went to the several cities of Greece, strengthened the common interest, and defeated the designs of the Macedonian ambassadors. In which respect he discovered a much greater regard for his country than Themistocles and Alcibiades, when under the same misfortune. After his return, he pur- sued his former plan of government, and contin- ued the war with Antipaterand the Macedonians. Whereas Laelius reproached Cicero in full senate with sitting silent, when Caesar, who was not yet come to years of maturity, applied for the consul- ship contrary to law. And Brutus, in one of hia letters, charged him with "having reared a greater and more insupportable tyranny than that which they had destroyed." As to the manner of their death, we cannot think of Cicero's without a contemptuous kind of pity. How deplorable to see an old man, for want of proper resolution, suffering himself to be carried about by his servants, endeavoring to hide him- self from death, which was a messenger that na- ture would soon have sent him, and overtaken notwithstanding and slaughtered by his enemies! The other, though he did discover some fear, by taking sanctuary, is, nevertheless, to be admired for the provision he had made of poison, for the care with ^hich he had preserved it, and his noble manner of using it. So that, when Nep- tune did not afford him an asylum, he had re- course to a more inviolable altar, rescued himself from the weapons of the guards, and eluded th cruelty of Antipater. DEMETRIUS. THOSE who first thought that the arts might be compared to the senses, in the perception of their respective objects, appear to me to have well un- derstood the power by which that perception was to be formed, the power of distinguishing con- trary qualities; for this they have in common. But in the mode of distinguishing, as well as in the end of what is distinguished, they evidently differ. The senses, for instance, have no connate power of perceiving a white object more than a black one; what is sweet more than what is bitter; or what is soft and yielding, more than what is hard and solid. Their office is to receive impres- sions from such objects as strike upon them, and to convey those impressions to the mind. But the operation of the arts is more rational. They are not, like the senses, passive in their per- ceptions. They choose or reject what is proper or improper. What is good they attend to pri- marily and intentionally; and what is evil, only accidentally, in order to avoid it. Thus, the art of medicine considers the nature of diseases; and music tiiat of discordant sounds, in order to pro- duce their contraries. And the most excellent of all arts, temperance, justice, and prudence, teach us to judge riot only of what is honorable, just, and useful, but also of what is pernicious, disgraceful, and unjust. These arts bestow no praise on that innocence which toasts of an entire ignorance of Vice; in their reckoning, it is rather an absurd ' simplicity to be ignorant of those things, which every man that is disposed to live virtuously I should make it his particular care to know. Ac- cordingly the ancient Spartans, at their feasts, used to compel the helots to drink an excessive quantity of wine, and then bring them into the public halls where they dined, to show the young men what drunkenness was. We do not, indeed, think it agreeable, either to humanity or good policy, to corrupt some of the species, in order not to corrupt others. Yet, perhaps, it may not be amiss to insert among the rest of the lives, a few examples of those who have abused their power, to the purposes of licen- tiousness, and whose elevation has only made their vices greater, and more conspicuous. Not that we adduce them to giv* pleasure, or to adorn our paintings with the graces of variety; but we i do it from the same motive with Isinenias. the The- ban musician, who presented his scholars both with good and bad performers on the flute; and used to say, "Thus you must play, and, Thus you must not play." And Antigenidas observed, "That young men would hear able performers with much greater pleasure, after they had heard bad ones." In like manner, according to my opinion, we shall behold and imitate the virtuous with greater attention if we be not entirely unacquainted with ! the characters of the vicious and infamous. In this book, therefore, we shall give the lives DEMETRIUS. 571 Foliorcetes, and of Antony tK. ^.'fc v.b'*'. >>e, vi. 1 ) \t vo most remarkably veri- fied that oh s 'j> Mm c* ?I^to, " That great parts produce gren\ vices, f\s veM as virtues." They were equally adaictsci to w ; nvJ and women; both excellent soldiers, and pe.-sc*is of great munifi- cence; hut, at the same tjn.e, prodigal and inso- lent. There was the same resemblance in their fortune; for in the course of tbeir lives, they met both with great success, and gre.M disappointments; now extending their conquests with the utmost rapidity, and now losing all; new falling beyond all expectation; and now recovering themselves when there was as little prospect of such a change. This similarity there was in tSfcJr lives; and in the concluding scene there was i oJ much differ- ence; for the one was taken by h.'s enemies, and died in captivity, and the other WAS near sharing the same fate. Antigonus having two sons by Siratonice, the daughter of Corrseus, called the one after his bro- ther Demetrius, and the other af*.er his father, Philip. So most historians say. But some affirm that Demetrius was not the son of Antigonus, but his nephew; and that his father dying and leaving him an infant, and his mother soon after marrying Antigonus, he was on that account, considered as his son. Philip who was not many years younger than Demetrius, died at an early period. Demetrius, though tall, was not equal in size to his father Anti- gonus. But his beauty and mien were so inimitable that no statuary or painter could hit off a likeness. His countenance had a mixture of grace and dignity; and was at once amiable and awful; and the unsub- dued and eager air of youth was blen ied with the ma- jesty of the hero and the king. There was the same happy mixture in his behavior, which inspired, at the same time, both pleasure and awe. In his hours of leisure a most agreeable companion; at his table, and every species of entertainment, of all princes the most delicate; and yet, when business called, nothing could equal his activity, his dili- gence and dispatoh. In which respect he imitated Bacchus most or all the gods; since he was not only terrible in ^ar, but knew how to terminate war with peace, and turn with the happiest ad- dress to the joys and pleasures which that inspires. His affection for his father was remarkably great; and in the respect he paid his mother, his love for his other parent was very discernible. His duty was genuine, and not in the least influ- enced by the considerations of high station or pow- er. Demetrius, happening to come from hunting, when his father was giving audience to some arn- Duss;idors, went up and saluted him, and then sat down by him with his javelins in his hand. After they had received their answer, and were going away, Antigonus called out to them, and said, You may mention, too, the happy terms upon which I am with my son." By which he gave them to understand, that the harmony and confi- dence in which they lived, added strength to the kingdom, and security to his power. So incapable is regal authority of admitting a partner, so liable to jealousy and hatred, that the greatest and oldest of Alexander's successors rejoiced that he had no occasion to fear his own son, but could freely let him approach him with his weapons in his hand. Indeed, we may venture to say, that his family nlone, in the course of many successions, was free from these evils. Of all the descendants of Anti- gonus, Philip was the only prince who put his son to death: whereas, in the families of other kings, nothing is more common than the murders of sons, mothers and wives. As for the killing of brothers, like a postulatum in geometry, it was considered as ndisputably necessary to the safety of the reigu- ng prince. That Demetrius was originally well disposed by nature to the offices of humanity and friendship, the following is a proof. Mithridates, the son of Ariobarzanes, was of the same age, and his con- stant companion. He was likewise one of the attendants of Antigonus, and bore an unblemished character. Yet Antigonus conceived some suspi- cion of him from a dream. He thought he entered a large and beautiful field, and sowed it with filings of gold. This produced a crop of the same precious metal; but coming a little after to visit it, he found it was cut, and nothing left but the stalks. As he was in great distress about his loss, he heard some people say, that Mithridates had reaped the golden harvest, and was gone with it toward the Euxine sea. Disturbed at this dream, he communicated it to his son, having first made him swear to keep it secret, and, at the same time, informed him of his absolute determination to destroy Mithridates. Demetrius was exceedingly concerned at the af- fair; but though his friend waited on him as usual, that they might pursue their diversions together, he durst not speak to him on the subject, because of his oath. By degrees, however, he drew him aside from the rest of his companions; and when they were alone, he wrote on the ground, with the bottom of his spear, " Fly, Mithridates." The young man understanding his danger, fled that night into Cappadocia; and fate soon accom- plished the dream of Antigonus. For Mithridates conquered a rich and extensive country, and founded the family of thePontic kings, which con- tinued through eight successions, and was at last destroyed by the Romans. This is a sufficient evidence that Demetrius was naturally well in- clined to justice and humanity. But as, according to Empedocles, love and hatred are the sources of perpetual wars between the elements, particularly such as touch or ap- proach each other; so among the successors of Alexander there were continual wars; and the contentions were always the most violent when inflamed by the opposition of interest, or vicinity of place. This was the case of Antigonus, and Pto- lemy. Antigonus, while he resided in Phrygia, re- ceived information that Ptolemy was gone from Cyprus into Syria, where he was ravaging the country, and reducing the cities either by solicita- tion or force. Upon this he sent his son Demetrius against him, though he was only twenty-two years of age; and in this first command had the greatest and most difficult affairs to manage. But a young and inexperienced man was unequally matched with a general from the school of Alexander, who had distinguished himself in many important com- bats under that prince. Accordingly, he was de- feated near Gaza; five thousand of his men were killed, and eight thousand taken prisoners. He lost also his tents, his military chest, and his whole equipage. But. Ptolemy sent them back to him, together with his friends; adding this generous and obliging message, " That they ought only to contend for glory and empire." When Demetrius received it, he begged of the gods, "That he might not long be Ptolemy's debtor, but soon have it in his power to return the favor." Nor was he dis- concerted, as most young men would be, with such a miscarriage in his first essay. On the con- trary, like a complete general, accustomed to the vicissitudes of fortune, he employed himself in making new levies and providing arms; he kept the cities to their duty, and exercised the troop* he had raised. 572 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. As soon as Antigonus was apprised how the battle went, he said, "Ptolemy has, indeed, beat- en boys, but he shall soon have to do with men." However, as he did not choose to repress the spirit of his son, on his request, he gave him permission to try his fortune again by himself. Not long after this, Giles, Ptolemy's general, undertook to drive Demetrius entirely out of Syria: for which purpose he brought with him a numerous army, though he held him in contempt on account of his late defeat. But Demetrius, by a sudden attack, struck his adversaries with such a panic that both the camp and the general fell into his hands, togeth- er with very considerable treasures. Yet he did not consider the gain, but the ability to give: nor so much valued the glory and riches which this advantage brought him, as its enabling him to re- quite the generosity of Ptolemy. He was not, however, for proceeding upon his own judgment; he consulted his father; and, on his free permission to act as he thought proper, loaded Giles and his friends with his favors, and sent them back to their master. By this turn of affairs, Ptolemy lost his footing in Syria; and Antigonus marched down from Celaenag, rejoicing in his son's success, and impatient to embrace him. Demetrius, after this, being sent to subdue the Nabathaaan Arabs, found himself in great danger, by falling into a desert country, which afforded no water. But the barbarians, astonished at his un- common intrepidity, uid not venture to attack him; and he retired with a considerable booty; among | in an obliging manner, and sent back with them Aristodemus, the Milesian, a friend of his father's. Cassander and had a good garrison in the fort of Munychia. His adversary, who managed the af- fair, both with prudence and good fortune, made his appearance before the Piraeus on the twenty- fifth of May.* The town had no information of his approach; and when they saw his fleet coming in, they concluded that it belonged to Ptolemy, and prepared to receive it as such. But at last the officers who commanded in the city, being un- deceived, ran to oppose it. All the tumult and confusion followed, which was natural when an enemy carne unexpected, and was already landing, for Demetrius finding the mouth of the harbor open, ran in with ease; and the people could plain- ly distinguish him on the deck of his ship, whence he made signs to them to compose themselves and keep silence. They complied with his demand; and a herald was ordered to proclaim, " That his father Antigonus, in a happy hour, he hoped, for Athens, had sent him to reinstate them in their liberties, by expelling the garrison, and to restore their laws and ancient form of government." Upon this proclamation, the people threw down their arrns,and receiving the proposal with loud ac- clamations, desired Demetrius to land, and called him their benefactor and deliverer. Demetrius, the Phalerian, and his partisans, thought it neces- sary to receive a man who carne with such a su- perior force, though he should perform none of his promises, and accordingly sent deputies to make their submission. Demetrius received them which were seven hundred camels. Antigonus had formerly taken Babylon from Seleuous; but he had recovered it by his own arms; and was now marching with his main army, to reduce the nations which bordered upon India, and the provinces about Mount Caucasus. Mean- time Demetrius, hoping to find Mesopotamia un- At the same time, he was not unmindful of Deme- trius, the Phalerian, who, in this revolution, was more afraid of the citizens than of the enemy; but out of regard to his character and virtue, sent him with a strong convoy to Thebes, agreeably to his request. He likewise assured the Athenians, that guarded, suddenly passed the Euphrates, and fell j however desirous he might be to see their city, upon Babylon. There were two strong castles in I he would deny himself that pleasure until he had that city; but by this maneuver, in the absence of j set it entirely free, by expelling the garrison. He therefore surrounded the fortress ofMunychia with a ditch and rampart, to cut off itsfeommunicatiou with the rest of the city, and theuftuled to Megara, where Cassander had another garrison. * On his arrival, he was informed thatCratesipolis, the wife of Alexander the son of Polyperclion, a celebrated beauty, was at Patrae, and had a desire to see him. In consequence of which he left his forces in the territory of Megara, and with a few light horse took the road to Patrae. When he was near the place, he drew off from his men, and Seleucus, he seized one of them, dislodged the garri- son, and placed there seven thousand of his own men. After this, he ordered the rest of his sol- diers to plunder the country for their own use, and then returned to the sea-coast. By these pro- ceedings, he left Seleucus better established in his dominions than ever; for his laying waste the country, seemed as if he had no farther claim to it. In his return through Syria, he was informed that Ptolemy was besieging Halicarnassus; upon which he hastened to its relief, and obliged him to pitched his tent apart, that Cratesipolis might not retire. As this ambition to succor the distressed j be perceived when she came to pay her visit. But gained Antigonus and Demetrius great reputation, they conceived a strong desire to rescue all Greece from the slavery it was held in by Cassander and Ptolemy. No prince ever engaged in a party of the enemy getting intelligence of this, fell suddenly upon him. In hisalarm, he had only time to throw over him a mean cloak; and, in that more just j disguise, saved himself by flight. So near an in- famous captivity had his intemperate love of beauty brought him. As for his tent, the enemy took it, with all the riches it contained. After Megara was taken, the soldiers prepared to plunder it; but the Athenians interceded strong- and honorable war. For they employed the wealth which they had gained by the conquest of the bar- barians, for the advantage of the Greeks; solely with a view to the honor that such an enterprise promised. When they had resolved to begin their opera- ly for that people, and prevailed. Demetrius was tionswith Athens, one of his friends advised Anti- (satisfied with expelling the garrison, and declared gonus, if he took the city, to keep it, as the key of | the city free. Amidst these transactions, he Greece; but that prince would not listen to him. j bethought himself of Stilpo, a philosopher of great He said, "The best and securest of all keys was reputation, who sought only the retirement and the friendship of the people; and that Athens was I tranquillity of a studious life. He sent for him, the watch-tower of the world, from whence the j and asked him, "Whether they had taken anything torch of his glory would blaze over the earth.' In consequence of these resolutions, Demetrius sailed to Athens with five thousand talents of sil- ver, and a fleet of two hundred and fifty ships. Demetrius, the Phaleriau, governed the city for 1 from him?" " No," said Stilpo, "I found none that wanted to steal any knowledge." The sol- diers, however, had clandestinely carried off 'Thareelio*. DEMETRIUS. 573 almost all the slaves. Therefore, when Demetrius paid his respects to him again, on leaving the place, he said, "Stilpo, I leave you entirely free." "True," answered Stilpo, "for you have not left a slave among us." Demetrius then returned to the siege of Muny- chia, dislodged the garrison, and demolished the fortress. After which the Athenians pressed him to enter the city, and he complied. Having assembled the people, he re-established the com- monwealth in its ancient form; and, moreover, promised them, in the name of his father, a hun- dred and fifty thousand measures* of wheat, and timber enough to build a hundred galleys. Thus they recovered the democracy fifteen years after it was dissolved. During the interval, after the Lamian war, and the battle of Cranon, the gov- ernment was called an oligarchy, but in fact, was monarchical; for the power of Demetrius the Phalerian, met with no control. Their deliverer appeared glorious in his services to Athens; but they rendered him obnoxious by the extravagant honors they decreed him. For they were the first who gave him and his father Anti- gonus the title of kings, which they had hitherto religiously avoided; and which was, indeed, the only thing left the descendants of Philip and Alexander, uninvaded by their generalsf. They alone honored them with the appellation of the gods-protectors; and, instead of denominating the year as former- ly, from the archon, they abolished his office, created annually in his room a priest of those gods- pro tec tors, and prefixed his name to all their public acts. They likewise ordered that their portraits should be wrought in the holy vail with those of the other gods.J They consecrated the place where their patron first alighted from his chariot, and erected an altar there to DEMETRIUS Catabates. They added two to the number of their tribes, and called them Demetrias and Anli- gonis; in consequence of which the senate, which before consisted of five hundred members, was to consist of six hundred; for each tribe supplied fifty. Stratocles, of whose invention these wise com- pliments were, thought of a stroke still higher. He procured a decree, that those who should be sent upon public business from the common- wealth of Athens to Antigonus and Demetrius, should not be called ambassadors, but Theori, a title which had been appropriated to those who, on the solemn festivals, carried the customary sacrifices to Delphi and Olympia, in the name of the Grecian states. This Stratocles was, in all respects, a person of the most darng effrontery and the most debauched life, insomuch that he seemed to imitate the ancient Cleon in his scur- rilous and licentious behavior to the people. He kept a mistress called Phylacium; and one day, when she brought from the market some heads for supper, he said, " Why how now ! you have provided us just such things to eat, as we states- men use for tennis-balls." * Medimni. t No other people were found capable of such vile adu- lation. Their servility showed how little they deserved the liberty that was restored them. t Every fifth year the Athenians celebrated the Panathe- tuca, or festival of Minerva, and carried in procession the Pepium, or holy vail, in which the defeat of the Titans, and the actions of Minerva, were inwrought. In this vail, too, they placed the figures of those commanders who had distinguished themselves by their victories; and from thence catne the expression, that such a one was worthy of the Pepium; meaning that he was a brave soldier. As to the form of the Pepium, it was a large robe, without sleeves, ft was drawn by land, in a machine like a ship, along the Ccrwmciiis, as far as the temple of Ceres at Elev- tis; from whence it was brought back, and consecrated la ibe citadel. When the Athenians were defeated in the sea- fight near Amorgos, he arrived at Athens before any account of the misfortune had been received, and passing through the Ceramicus with a chap- let on his head, told the people that they were victorious. He then moved that sacrifices of thanksgiving should be offered, and meat distrib- uted among the tribes for a public entertainment. Two days after, the poor remains of the fleet were brought home; and the people, in great an- ger, calling him to answer for the imposition; he made his appearance in the hight of the tumult, with the most consummate assurance, and -said, "What harm have I done you, in making you mer- ry for two days?" Such was the impudence of Stratocles. But there were other extravagances hotter than fire itself, as Aristophanes expresses it. One flatterer outdid even Stratocles in servility, by procuring a decree that Demetrius, whenever he visited Athens, should be received with the same honors that were paid to Ceres and Bacchus; and that whoever exceeded the rest in the splendor and magnificence of the reception he gave that prince, should have money out of the treasury, to enable him to set up some pious memorial of his success. These instances of adulation concluded with their changing the name of the month Munychwn to Demetrion, with calling the last day of every month Demetrias; and the Dionysia, or feasts of Bacchus, Demetria. The gods soon showed how much they were offended at these things. For the vail in which were wrought the figures of Demetrius and An- tigonus, along with those of Jupiter and Miner- va, as they carried it through the Ceramicus, was rent asunder by a sudden storm of wind. Hem- lock grew up in great quantities round the altars of those princes, though it is a plant seldom found in that country. On the day when the Dionysia were to be celebrated, they were forced to put a stop to the procession by the excessive cold, which came entirely out of season; and there fell so strong a hoar frost, that it blasted not only the vines and fig-trees, but great part of the corn in the blade. Hence, Philippidas, who was an enemy to Stratocles, thus attacked him in one of his comedies:" Who was the wicked cause of our vines being blasted by the frost, and of the sacred vail's being rent asunder? He who transferred the honors of the gods to men: it is he, not comedy,* that is the ruin of the peo- ple." Philippides enjoyed the friendship of Ly- simachus, and the Athenians received many fa- vors from that prince on his account. Nay, whenever Lysimachus was waited on by this poet, or happened to meet him, he considered it as a good omen, and a happy time to enter upon any great business or important expedition. Be- side, he was a man of excellent character, never importunate, intriguing, or over officious, like those who are bred in a court. One day, Lysi- machus called to him in the most obliging man- ner, and said, " What is there of mine that you would share in?" " Anything," said he " but your secrets." I have purposely contrasted these characters, that the difference may be obvious between the comic writer and the dema- gogue. What exceeded all the rage of flattery we have mentioned, was the decree proposed by Dromo- * It is probable that Stratocles, and the other persons of his character, inveighed against the dramatic writers, oo account of the liberties they took wi*h their vices. Though, this was after the time that the middle comedy prevailed al Athens. 574 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. elides the Sphettian ; according to which they were to consult the oracle of Demetrius, as to the manner in which they were to dedicate cer- tain shields at Delphi. It was conceived in these terms: " In a fortunate hour, be it decreed by the people, that a citizen of Athens be appointed to go to the god-protector, and, after due sacrifices offered, demand of Demetrius, the god-protector, what will be the most pious, the most honorable and expeditious method of consecrating the in- tended offerings. And it is hereby enacted, that the people of Athens will follow the method dic- tated by his oracle." By this mockery of in- cense to his vanity, who was scarcely in his senses before, they rendered him perfectly in- sane. During his stay at Athens, he married Eury- dice, a descendant of the ancient Miltiades, who was the widow of Ophelias king of Cyrene, and had returned to Athens after his death. The Athenians reckoned this a particular favor and honor to their city; though Demetrius made no sort of difficulty of marrying, and had many wives at the same time. Of all his wives, he paid most respect to Phila, because she was the daughter of Antipater, and had been married to Craterus, who, of all the successors of Alexander, was most regretted by the Macedonians. Deme- trius was very young when his father persuaded him to marry her, though she was advanced in life, and on that account unfit for him. As he was disinclined to the match, Antigonus is said to have repeated to him that verse of Euripides, with a happy parody: When fortune spreads her stores, we yield to marriage Against the bent of nature. Only putting marriage instead of bondage. How- ever, the respect which Demetrius paid Phila and his other wives was not of such a nature but that he publicly entertained many mistresses, as well slaves as free-born women, and was more infa- mous for his excessses of that sort, than any other prince of his time. Meantime his father called him to take the con- duct of the war against Ptolemy; and he found it necessary to obey him. But as it gave him pain to leave the war he had undertaken for the liberties of Greece, which was so much more ad- vantageous in point of glory, he sent to Cleon- ides, who commanded forPompey in Sicyon and Corinth, and offered him a pecuniary considera- tion, on condition that he would set those cities free. Cleonides not accepting the proposal, Deme- trius immediately embarked his troops, and sail- ed to Cyprus. There he had an engagement with Menelaus, brother to Ptolemy, and defeated him. Ptolemy himself soon after made his appearance with a great number of land forces, and a consid- erable fleet. On which occasion, several mena- cing and haughty messages passed between them. Ptolemy bade Demetrius depart, before he col- lected all his forces and trod him under foot; and Demetrius said, he would let Ptolemy go, if he would promise to evacuate Sicyou and Cor- inth. The approaching battle awaked the attention not only of the parties concerned, but of all other princes; for, beside the uncertainty of the event, so much depended upon it that the con- queror would not be master of Cyprus and Syria alone, but superior to all his rivals in power. Ptolemy advanced with a hundred and fifty ships, and he had ordered Menelaus, -with sixty more, to come out of the rferbor of Salarnis, in the heat of the battle, and put the enemy in disorder, by fall- ing on his rear. Against these six^ ships, Dem trius appointed a guard of ten, for that numbe. was sufficient to block up the mouth of the har* bor. His land forces he ranged on the adjoining promontories, and then bore down upon his ad- versary with a hundred and eighty ships. This he did with so much impetuosity that Ptolemy could not stand the shock, but was defeated, and fled with eight ships only, which were all that he saved. For seventy were taken with their crews, and the rest were sunk in the engagement. His numerous train, his servants, friends, wives, arms, money, and machines, that were stationed neat the fleet in transports, all fell into the hands of Demetrius, and he carried them to his camp. Among these was the celebrated Lamia, who at first was only taken notice of for her perform- ing on the flute, which was by no means con- temptible, but afterward became famous as a cour- tesan. By this time her beauty was in the wane, yet she captivated Demetrius, though not near her age, and so effectually enslaved him by the peculiar power of her address, that, though other women had a passion for him, he could only think of her. After the sea-fight, Menelaus made no further resistance, but surrendered Salamis with all the ships, and the land forces, which consisted of twelve hundred horse, and twelve thousand foot. This victory, so great in itself, Demetrius ren- dered still more glorious by generosity and hu- manity, in giving the enemy's dead an honorable interment, and setting the prisoners free. He selected twelve hundred complete suits of armor from the spoils, and bestowed them on the Athe- nians. Aristodemus, the Milesian, was the per- son he sent to his father witn an account of the victory. Of all the courtiers, this man was the boldest flatterer, and, on the present occasion, ho designed to outdo himself. When he arrived on the coast of Syria from Cyprus, he would not suffer the ship to make land; but ordering it t anchor at a distance, and all the company to re- main in it, he took the boat, and went on shore alone. He advanced toward the palace of Anti- gonus, who was watching for the event of this battle, with all the solicitude natural to a man who has so great a concern at stake. As soou as he was informed that the messenger was com- ing,his anxiety increased to such a degree that he could scarce keep within his palace. He sent his officers and friends, one after another, to Aristo- demus, to demand what intelligence he brought. But, instead of giving any of them an answer, he walked on with great silence and solemnity. The king by this time much alarmed, and having no longer patience, went to the door to meet him. A great crowd was gathered about Aristodemus, and the people were running from all quarters to the palace to hear the news. When he was near enough to be heard, he stretched out his hand, and cried aloud, " Hail to king Antigonus! we have totally beaten Ptolemy at sea; we are masters of Cyprus, and have made sixteen thousand eight hundred prisoners." Antigonus answered, "Hail to you too, my good friend; but I will punish you for torturing us so long; you shall wait long for your reward." The people now, for the firs't time, proclaimed Antigonus and Demetrius kings. Antigonus had the diadem immediately put on by his friends. He sent one to Demetrius; and in the letter that accompanied it, addressed him under the style of king. The Egyptians, when they were apprised of this circumstance, gave Ptolemy likewise the title of king, that they might not appear to be DEMETRIUS. 575 dispirited with their late defeat. The other suc- cessors of Alexander caught eagerly at the oppor- tunity to aggrandize themselves. Lysimachus took the diadem; and Seleucus did the same in his transactions with the Greeks. The latter had worn it some time, when he gave audience to the barbarians. Cassander alone, while others wrote to him, and saluted him as king, prefixed his name to the letters in the same manner as formerly. This title proved not a mere addition to their name and figure. It gave them higher notions. It introduced a pompousniess into their manners, and self-importance into their discourse. Just as tragedians, when they take the habit of kings, change their gait, their voice, their whole deport- ment, and manner of address. After this they became more severe in their judicial capacity; for they laid aside that dissimulation with which they had concealed their power, and which had made them much milder and more favorable to their subjects. So much could one word of a flatterer do! such a change did it effect iu the whole face of the world. Antigonus, elated with his son's achievements at Cyprus, immediately marched against Ptolemy; commanding his land forces in person, while De- metrius, with a powerful fleet attended him along the coast. One of Antigonus's friends, named Medius, had the event of this expedition commu- nicated to him in a dream. He thought that An- tigonus and his whole army were running a race. At first he seeme.d to run wilh great swiftness and force; but afterward his strength gradually abated; and, on turning, he became very weak, and drew his breath with such pain, that he could scarce recover himself. Accordingly, Antigonus met with many difficulties at land, and Demetrius encountered such a storm at sea, that he was in danger of being driven upon an impracticable shore. In this storm he lost many of his ships, and returned without effecting anything. Antigonus was now little short of eighty; and his great size and weight disqualified him for war, still more than his age. He therefore left the military department to his son, who by his good fortune, as well as ability, managed it in the hap- piest manner. Nor was Antigonus hurt by his son's debaucheries, his expensive appearance, or his long caiousals; for these were the tilings in which Demetrius employed himself in time of peace with the utmost licentiousness and most unbounded avidity. But. in war, no man, how- ever naturally temperate, exceeded him in so briety. When the power that Lamia had over him was evident to all the world, Demetrius came, after some expedition or other, to salute his father, and kissed him so cordially, that he laughed and said, ' Surely, my son, you think you are kissing Lamia." Once when he had been spending many days with his friends over the bottle, he excused himself at his return to court by saying, "That he had been hindered by a defluxion." " So I heard," said Antigonus, "but whether was the defluxion from Thasos or from Chios?" Another time, being informed that he was indisposed, he went to see him; and when he came to the door, ae met one of his favorites going out. He went in, however, and sitting down by him, took hold of his hand; Demetrius said his fever had now left him. "I know it," said Antigonus, "for I met it this moment at the door." With such mildness lie treated his son's faults, out of regard to his excellent pel forrnances. It is the custom of the Scythians in the midst oi their carousals, to strike the strings of their bows, to recall, as it were, their courage, which is melting away in )leasure. But Demetrius one while gave himself up entirely to pleasure, and another while to busi- less; he did not intermix them. His military talents, therefore, did not suffer by his attentions of a gayer kind. Nay, he seemed to show greater abilities in his preparations for war than in the use of them. He was not content unless he had stores that were more than sufficient. There was something pecu- arly great in the construction of his ships and engines, and he took an unwearied pleasure in the inventing of new ones. For he was ingenious 'n the speculative part of mechanics; and he did not, like other princes, apply his taste and know- ledge of those arts to the purposes of diversion, or to pursuits of no utility, such as playing on the flute, painting, or turning. ^Eropus, king of Macedon, spent his hours of leisure in making little tables and lamps. Attalus,* surnamed Philometer,t amused himself with planting poisonous herbs, not only henbane and hellebore, but hemlock, aconite, and doryc- nium.t These he cultivated in the royal gardens, and beside gathering them at their proper seasons, made it his business to know the qualities of their juices and fruit. And the kings of Parthia took a pride in forging and sharpening heads for ar- rows. But the mechanics of Demetrius were of a princely kind; there was always something great in the fabric. Together with a spirit of curiosity and love of the arts, there appeared in all his works a grandeur of design and dignity of inven- tion, so that they were not only worthy of the genius and wealth but of the hand of a king. His friends were astonished at their greatness, and his very enemies were pleased with their beauty No! is this description of him at all exaggerated. His enemies used to stand upon the shore, looking with admiration upon his galleys of fifteen or sixteen banks of oars, as they sailed along; and his engines, called helepoles, were a pleasing spec- tacle to the very towns which he besieged. This is evident from facts. Lysimachus, who of all the princes of his time was the bitterest enemy to Demetrius, when he came to compel him to raise the siege of Soli in Cilicia, desired he would show him his engines of war, and his manner of navigating the galleys; and he was so struck with the sight that he immediately retired. And the Rhodians, after they had stood a long siege, and at last compromised the affair, requested him to leave some of his engines as monuments both of his power and of their valor. His war with the Rhodians was occasioned by their alliance wilh Ptolemy; and in the course of it he brought the largest of his helepoles up to their walls. Its base was square; each of its sides at the bottom forty-eight cubits wide; and it was sixty-six cubits high. The sides of the several divisions gradually lessened, so that the top was much narrower than the bottom. The inside was divided into several stories or rooms, one above another. The front, which was turned toward the enemy, had a window in each story, through which missive weapons of various kinds were * Plutarch does not do that honor to Attains which he de- serves, when he mentions his employments as unworthy of a prince. He made many experiments in natural philoso- phy, and wrote a treatise on agriculture. Other kings, particularly Iliero and Archelaus, did the same. t This is a mistake in Plutarch. Philomeler was another prince who made agriculture his amusement. %Dorycnium was a common poisonous plant, which waa so called from the points of spears being tinged with iu juices. 576 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. thrown: for it was filled with men who practiced every method of fighting. It neither shook nor veered the least in its motion, but rolled on in a steady, upright position. And as it moved with a horrible noise, it at once pleased and terrified the spectators.* He had two coats of mail brought from Cyprus,! for his use in this war, each of which weighed forty mines. Zolius, the maker, to show the ex- cellence of their temper, ordered a dart to he shot at them from an engine at the distance of twenty- six paces, and it stood so firm that there was no more mark upon it than what might be made with such a style as is used in writing. This he took for himself, and gave the other to Alcimus the Epirot, a man of the greatest bravery and strength of any in his army. The Epirot's whole suit of armor weighed two talents, whereas that of others weighed no more than one. He fell in the siege of Rhodes, in an action near the theater. As the Rhodians defended themselves with great spirit, Demetrius was not able to do anything considerable. There was one thing in their con- duct which he particularly resented, and for that reason he persisted in the siege. They had taken the vessel in which were letters from his wife Phila, together with some robes and pieces of tapestry, and they sent it, as it was, to Ptolemy. Ill which they were far from imitating the polite- ness of the Athenians, who, when they were at war with Philip, happening to take his couriers, read all the other letters, but sent him that of Olyrnpias with the seal entire. But Demetrius, though much incensed, did not retaliate upon the Rhodians, though he soon had an opportunity. Protogenes of Caunus was at tnat time painting for them the history of Jalysus,}: and had almost finished it when Demetrius seized it in one of the suburbs. The Rhodians sent a herald to entreat him to spare the work, and not suffer it to be destroyed. Upon which he said, " He would rather burn the pictures of his father than hurt so laborious a piece of art." For Pro- togenes is said to have been seven years in finish- ing it. Apelles tells us, that when he first saw it, he was so much astonished that he could not speak ; and at last, when he recovered himself, he said, " A master-piece of labor! A wonderful perform- ance! But it wants those graces which raise the fame of my paintings to the skies." This piece was afterward carried to Rome: and, being added *Diodorus Siculus says, this machine had nine stories; nd that it rolled on four large wheels, each of which was sixteen feet high. tPliny says that the Cyprian Adamant was impregnable. Cyprus was famous for the metal of which armor was made, even in the lime of the Trojan war; ami Agamem- non had a cuirass sent him from Cyniras, king of Cyprus. Horn. II. xi. t We have not met with the particular subject of this famous pointing. Jalysus was one of the fabulous heroes, the son of Ochimus, and grandson of Apollo; and there is a town in Rhodes called Jalysus, which probably had its name from him. It was in this picture that Protogenes, when he had long labored in vain to paint the form of a dog, happily hit it off, by throwing the brush in anger at the dog's mouth. ^Elian, as well as Plutarch, says, that he was seven years in finishing it. Pliny tells us, that he gave it tour coats of colors, that when one was effaced by time, another might supply its place. He tells us, too, that while Protogenes was at work, he was visited by DP- metrius, and when the latter asked him how he could pros- ecute his work with so much calmness under the rage of war, he answered that "Though Demetrius was at war with Rhodes, he did not suppose he was at war with the Arts." He is said to have lived on lupines durin* the time he was employed on this painting, that his judgment might not be clouded by luxurious diet. The picture was brought to Rome by Cassius, and placed in the temple of peace, where it remained until the time of Commodus; when, together with the temple, it was consumed by fire. to the number of those collected there, was de- stroyed by fire. The Rhodians now begun to grow weary of the war. Demetrius too wantea only a pretense to put an end to it, and he found one. The Athenians came and reconciled them on this condition, that the Rhodians should assist Antigonus and Demetrius as allies, in all their wars except those with Ptolemy. At the same time the Athenians called him to their succor against Cassander, who was besieging their city. In consequence of which he sailed thither with a fleet of three hundred and thirty ships, and a numerous body of land forces. With these he not only drove Cassander out of Attica, but followed him to Thermopyla?, and entirely de- feated him there. Heraclea then voluntarily sub- mitted, and he received into his army six thousand Macedonians who came over to him. In his re- turn he restored liberty to the Greeks within the straits of Thermopylae, took the Boeotians into hia alliance and made himself master of CenchreoB. He likewise reduced Phyle and Panactus, the bul- warks of Attica, which hud been garrisoned by Cussander, and put them in the hands of the Athenians again. The Athenians, though they had lavished honors upon him before in the most extravagant manner, yet contrived on this occa- sion to appear new in their flattery. They gave orders that he should lodge in the back part of the Parthenon; which accordingly he did, and Minerva was said to have received him as her guest; a guest not very fit to cnme under her roof, or suit- able to her virgin purity. In one of their expeditions his brother Philip took up his quarters in a house where there were three young women. His father Antigouus said nothing to Philip, but called the quarter-master, and said to him in his presence, " Why do not you remove my son out of this lodging, where he is so much straitened for room?" And Demetri- us, who ought to have reverenced Minerva, if ou no other account, yet as his eldest sister (for so he affected to call her), behaved in such a manner to persons of both sexes who were above the con- dition of slaves, and the citadel was so polluted with his debaucheries, that it appeared to be kept sucred in some degree, when he indulged himself only with such prostitutes as Chrysis, Lamia, De- mo, and Anticyra. Some things we choose to pass over, out of re- gard to the character of the city of Athens; but the virtue and chastity of Democles ought not to be left under the vail of silence. Democles was very young; and his beauty was no secret to De- metrius. Indeed, his surname unhappily de- clared it, for he was called Democles the handsome. Demetrius, through his emissaries, left nothing unattempted to gain him by great offers, or to in- timidate him by threats; but neither could pre- vail. He left the wrestling ring and all public exercises, and made use only of a private bath. Demetrius watched his opportunity, and surprised him there alone. The boy seeing nobody near to assist him, and the impossibility of resisting with any effect, took off the cover of the caldron, and jumped into the boiling water. It is true, he came to an unworthy end, but his sentiments were worthy of his country and of his personal merit. Very different were those of Cleaenetus the son of Cleomedon. That youth having procured his father the remission of a fine of fifty talents, brought letters from Demetrius to the people, signifying his pleasure in that respect. By which he not only dishonored himself, but brought great trouble upou the city. The people took DEMETRIUS 577 off the fine, but at the same time they made a de- cree, that no citizen should for the future bring any letter from Demetrius. Yet when they found that Demetrius was disobliged at it, and expressed his resentment in strong terms they he wrote to the republic, that on his arrival he in- tended to be initiated, and to be immediately ad- mitted, not only to the less mysteries, but even to those called intuitive. This was unlawful and unprecedented; for the less mysteries were cele- not only repealed the act, but punished the per- sons who proposed and supported it, some with death, and some with banishment. They like- wise passed a new edict, importing, " That the | er mysteries4 When the letters were read, Py- people of Athens had resolved, that whatsoever thodorus, the torch-bearer, was the only person thing Demetrius might command, should be ac- counted holy in respect of the gods, and just in respect of men." Some person of better princi- pie on this occasion happened to say, thatStrato- des was mad in proposing such decrees; Demo- chares the Leuconian* answered: "He would be mad, if he were not mad." Stratocles found his advantage in his servility; and for this saying, Demochares was prosecuted and banished the city. To such meannesses were the Athenians brought, when the garrison seemed to be removed out of their city, and they pretended to De a free people! Demetrius afterward passed into Peloponnesus, where he found no resistance, for all his enemies fled before him, or surrendered their cities. He therefore reduced with ease that part of the coun- try called Acte, and all Arcadia, except Mantinea. Argos, Sicyon, and Corinth, he set free from their garrisons by giving the commanding officers a hun- dred talents to evacuate them. About that time the feasts of Juno came on at Argos, and Deme- trius presided in the games and other exhibitions. During these solemnities he married Deidamia, the daughter of ^Ecides, king of the Molossians, and sister of Pyrrhus. He told the Sicyonians that they lived out of their city, and showing them a more advantageous situation, persuaded them to build one where the town now stands. Aling with the situation he likewise changed the name, calling the town Demetrias, instead of Sicyon. The states being assembled at the Isthmus, and a prodigious number of people attending, he was proclaimed general of all Greece, as Philip and Alexander had been before; and in the ela- tion of power and success, he thought himself a much greater man. Alexander robbed no other prince of his title, nor did he ever declare himself king of kings, though he raised many both to the style and authority of kings. But Demetrius thought no man worthy of that title, except his father and himself. He even ridiculed those who made use of it, and it was with pleasure he heard the sycophants at his table drinking king Deme- trius, Seleucus commander of the elephants, Pto- lemy admiral, Lysimachus treasurer, and Agath- ocles the Sicilian, governor of the islands. The rest of them only laughed at such extravagant instances of vanity. Lysimachus alone was an- gry, because Demetrius seemed to think him no better than a eunuch. For the princes of the east had generally eunuchs for their treasurers. Lysimachus, indeed, was the most violent enemy that he had; and now taking an opportunity to dis- parage him on account of his passion for Lamia, he said, " This was the first time he had seen a whore act in a tragedy. "f Demetrius said in an- swer, " My whore is an honester woman than his Penelope." When he was preparing to return to Athens, Thi ;plie dern w of Demosthenes. t The modern stage need not be pnt to the blush, by this as- sertion in favor of the ancient; the reason of it was, that ihere were no women actors. Men, in female dresses, per farmed their parts. 37 brated in February* and the greater in Septem- ber;f and none were admitted to the intuitive un- til a year at least after they had attended thegreat- who ventured to oppose the demand; and his op- position was entirely ineffectual. StratocIeS pro- cured a decree that the month of Munychion should be called and reputed the month of Anthes- terion, to give Demetrius an opportunity for his first initiation, which was to be performed in the ward of Agra. After which, Munychion was changed again into Boedrornion. By these means Demetrius was admitted to the greater mysteries, and to immediate inspection. Hence those strokes of satire upon Stratocles, from the poet Philippides " The man who can contract the whole year into one month;" and with re- spect to Demetrius's being lodged in the Parthenon "The man who turns the temples into inns, and brings prostitutes into the company of the virgin goddess." But among the many abuses and enormities committed in their city, no one seems to have given the Athenians greater uneasiness than this. He ordered them to raise two hundred and fifty talents in a very short time, and the sum was ex- acted with the greatest rigor. When the money was brought in, and he saw it all together, he or- dered it to be given to Lamia and his other mis- tresses, to buy soap. Thus the disgrace hurt them more than the loss, and the application more than the impost. Some, however say, that it was not to the Athenians he behaved in this manner, but to the people of Thessaly. Beside this disa- greeable tax, Lamia extorted money from many persons on her own authority, to enable her to provide an entertainment for the king. And the expense of that supper was so remarkable, that Lynceus the Samian took pains to give a descrip- tion of it. For the same reason, a comic poet of those times, with equal wit and truth, called La- rnia an Helepolis. And Demochares, the Solian, called Demetrius Muthos, that is, fable, because he too had his Laiida.f) The great interest that Lamia had with Deme- trius, in consequence of his passion for her, excit- ted a spirit of envy and aversion to her, not only in the breasts of his wives, but of his friends. Demetrius having sent ambassadors to Lysima- chus, on some occasion or other, that prince amused himself one day with showing them the deep wounds he had received from a lion's claws in his arms and thighs, and gave them an account of his being shut up with that wild beast by Alexan- der the Great, and of the battle he had with itjj * AnthfsterioH. t Boedrornion. j Plutarch in this place seems to make a difference be- tween the intuitive and the re;Uer mysteries, though they are commonly understood to be the same. Casaubon and Meursius think the text corrupt: but ihe manner in which! they would restore it, does not render it less perplexed. Fabulous history mentions a queen of Libya, who, on of rage for the loss of her own children, ordered those of other women to be brought to her, and devoured them. From whence she was called Lamia, from the Phoenicia* word lahama, to devour. Upon this account, Diodorut lells us, that Lamia became a bugbear to children. And this satisfies M. Dacier with regard to the explanation of this passage in Plutarch. UJustin and Paosanias mention this; but Q.. doubts the truth of it; and he probably is in th right. 575 PLUTARCH'S LIVES Upon which they laughed, and said, "The king 1 our master, too, bears on his neck the marks of a dreadful wild beast caned a Lamia." Indeed, it was strange that he should at first have so great an objection against the disparity of years be- tween him and Phila, and afterward fall into such a lasting captivity to Lamia, though she had pass- ed her prime at their first acquaintance. One evening when Lamia had been playing on the flute at supper, Demetrius asked Demo, surnam- ed Mania,* what she thought of her. "I think her an old woman, Sir," said Demo. Another time, when there was an extraordinary dessert on the table, he said to Jier, " You see what fine things Lamia sends me:" " My mother will send you finer," answered Demo, " if you will but lie with her." We shall mention only one story more of La- mia, which relates to her censure of the celebrat- ed judgment of Bocchoris. In Egypt there was a young man extremely desirous of the favors of a courtesan named Thonis, but she set too high a price upon them. Afterward he fancied that he enjoyed her in a dream, and his desire was sat- isfied. Thonis, upon this, commenced an action against him for the money; and Bocchoris having heard both parties, ordered the man to tell the gold that she demanded into a basin, and shake it about before her, that she might enjoy the sight of it. "For fancy," said he, "is no more than the shadow of truth." Lamia did not think this a just sentence ; because the woman's desire of the gold was not removed by the appearance of it; whereas the dream cured the passion of her lover. The change in the fortunes and actions of the subject of our narrative now turns the comic scene into tragedy: all the other kings having united their forces against Antigonus, Demetrius left Greece in order to join him; and was greatly animated to find his father preparing for war with a spirit above his yeavs. Had Antigonus abated a little of his pretensions, and restrained his am- bition to govern the world, he might have kept the pre-eminence among the successors of Alex- ander, not only for himself, but for his son after him. But being naturally arrogant, imperious, and no less insolent in his expressions than in his actions, he exasperated many young and power- ful princes against him. He boasted, that " he could break the, present league, and disperse the united armies with as much ease as a boy does a flock of birds, by throwing a stone, or making a slight noise." He had an army of more than seventy thou- sand foot, ten thousand horse, and seventy-five ele- phants. The enemy's infantry consisted of six- ty-four thousand men, their cavalry of ten thousand five-hundred; they had four hundred elephants, and a hundred and twenty armed char- iots. When the two armies were in sight, there was a visible change in the mind of Antigonus, hut rather with respect to his hopes than his reso- lution. In other engagements, his spirits used to be high, his port lofty, his voice loud, and his ex- pressions vaunting; insomuch, that he would sometimes, in the heat of the action, let fall some jocular expression, to show his unconcern and his contempt of his adversary. But at this time, he was observed for the most part to be thoughtful and silent; and one day he presented his son to Ihe army, and recommended him as his succes- sor. What appeared still more extraordinary, was, that he took him aside into his tent, anddis- In English, Mis* Madcap. coursed with him there: for he never used to com- municate his intentions to him in private, or to consult him in the least, but to rely entirely on his own judgment, and to give orders for the exe- cution of what he had resolved on by himself. It is reported that Demetrius, when very young, once asked him when they should decamp, and that lie answered angrily, " Are you afraid that you only Khali not hear the trumpet?" On this occasion, it is true, their spirits were depressed by ill omens. Demetrius dreamed that Alexander came to him in a magnificent suit of armor, and asked him what was lo he the won] in the ensuing battle? Demetrius answered, Jupiter and victory; upon which, Alexander said, " I go then to your adversaries, for they are ready to receive me." When the army was put in order of battle, Antigonus stumbled as he went out of his tent, and falling on his face received a conside- rable hurt. After he had recovered himself, he stretched out his hands toward heaven, and pray- ed either for victory, or that he might die before he was sensible that the day was lost. When the battle was begun, Demetrius, at the head of his best cavalry, fell upon Antiochus the son of Seleucus, and fought with so much bravery that he put the enemy to flight; but by a vain and unseasonable ambition to go upon the pursuit, he lost the victory. For he went so far that he could not get back to join his infantry, the ene- my's elephants having taken up the intermediate space. Seleucus now seeing his adversary's foot deprived of their horse, did not attack them butrode about them, as if he was going every moment to charge; intending, by this maneuver, both to terrify them, and to give them opportunity to change sides. The event answered his expectation. Great part sep- arated from the main body, and voluntarily came over to him; the rest were put to the rout. When great numbers were bearing down upon Antigo- nus, one of those that were about him, said, "They are coming against you, Sir." He an- swered, "What other object can they have? But Demetrius will come to my assistance." In this hope he continued to the last, still looking about for his son, until he fell under a shower of darts. His servants and his very friends forsook him: only Thorax of Larissa remained by the dead body. The battle being thus decided, the kings who were victorious, dismembered the kingdom of Antigonus and Demetrius, like some great body, and each took a limb; thus adding to their own dominions the provinces which these two princes were possessed of before. Demetrius fled with five thousand foot and four thousand horse. And as he reached Ephesus in a short time, and was in want of money, it was expected that he would not spare the temple. Piowever, he not only spared it himself,* but fearing that his soldiers night be tempted to violate it, he immediately left the place, and embarked for Greece. His principal dependence was upon the Athenians; for with them he had left his ships, his money, and his wife Deidamia: and, in this distress, he thought he could have no safer asylum than their affection. He therefore pursued his voyage with all possible expedition; but ambassadors from Athens met him near the Cyclades, and entreated him not to think of going thither, because the people had declared by an edict that they would receive no king into their city. As for Deidamia, they had conducted her to Megara with a proper retinue, and all the respect due to her rank. This A striking proof that adversity is the parent of virtue! DEMETRIUS. 579 so enraged Demetrius, that he was no longer mas- tei of himself; though he had hitherto borne his misfortune with sufficient calmness, and diwover- ed no mean or ungenerous sentiment in the great change of his affairs. But to be deceived beyond all his expectation, by the Athenians; to find, by facts, that their affection, so great in appear- ance, was only false and counterfeit, was a thing that cut him to the heart. Indeed, excessive honors are a very indifferent proof of the regard of the people for kings and princes. For all the value of those honors rests in their being freely given; and tliere can be no certainty of that, because the givers may be under the influence of fear. And fear and love often produce the same public decla- rations. For the same reason wise princes will not look upon statues, pictures, or divine honors, but rather consider their own actions and beha- vior, and in consequence thereof, either believe those honors real, or disregard them as the dictates of necessity. Nothing more frequently happens than that the people hate their sovereign the most at the time that he is receiving the most im- moderate honors, the tribute of unwilling minds. Demetrius, though he severely felt this ill treat- ment, was not in a condition to revenge it; he therefore, by his envoys, expostulated with the Athenians in moderate terms, and only desired them to send him his galleys, among which there was one of thirteen banks of oars. As soon as he had received them, he steered for the Isthmus, but found his affairs tliere in a very bad situation. The cities expelled his garrisons, and were all re- volting to his enemies. Leaving Pyrrhus in Greece, he then sailed to the Chersonesus, and by the ravages he committed in the country, distress- ed Lysimachus as well as enriched and secured the fidelity of his own forces, which now began to gather strength, and improve into a respectable army. The other kings paid no regard to Lysi- machus, who, at the same time, that he was much more formidable in his power than Deme- trius, was not in the least more moderate in his conduct. Soon after this, Seleucus sent proposals of mar- riage to Stratonice, the daughter of Demetrius by Phila. He had, indeed, already a son named An- tiochus, by Apama, a Persian lady; but he thought that his dominions were sufficient for more heirs, and that he stood in need of this new alliance, because he saw Lysimachus marrying one of Ptolemy's daughters himself, and taking the other for his son Agathocles. A connection with Se- leucus was a happy and unexpected turn of for- tune for Demetrius. He took his daughter, and sailed with his whole fleet to Syria. In the course of the voyage, he was several times under the necessity of making land, and he touched in particular upon the coast of Cilicia, which had been given to Plistarchus, the brother of Cassander, as his share, after the defeat of Antigonus. Plistarchus, thinking him- self injured by the descent which Demetrius made upon his country, went immediately to Cassander to complain of Seleucus for having reconciled himself to the common enemy, without the con- currence of the other kings. Demetrius being informed of his departure, left the sea, and march- ed up to Quinda; where, finding twelve hundred talents, the remains of his father's treasures, he carried them off, embarked again without inter- ruption, and set sail with the utmost expedition, his wife Phila having joined him by the way. Seleucus met him at Orossus. Their interview was conducted in a sincere and princely manner, without any marks of design or suspicion. Se- leucus invited Demetrius first to h>s pavilion; and then Demetrius entertained him in his galley of thirteen banks of oars. They conversed at their ease, and passed the time together without guards or arms; until Seleucus took Stratonice, and car- ried her with great pomp to Antioch. Demetrius seized the province of Cilicia, and sent Phila to her brother Cassander, to answer the accusations brought against him by Plistarchus. Meantime, Deidamia came to him from Greece, but she had not spent any long time with him, before she sickened and died; and Demetrius hav- ing accommodated matters with Ptolemy through Seleucus, it was agreed that he should marry Ptolemais the daughter of that prince. Hitherto Seleucus had behaved with honor and propriety; but afterward he demanded that Deme- trius should surrender Cilicia to him for a sum of money, and on his refusal to do that, angrily in- sisted on having Tyre and Sidon- This behavior appeared unjustifiable and cruel. When he al- ready commanded Asia, from the Indies to the Syrian sea, how sordid was it to quarrel for two cities, with a prince who was his father- in-law, and who labored under so painful a reverse of fortune. A strong proof how true the maxim of Plato is, That the man who would be truly happy, should not study to enlarge his estate, but to contract his desires. For he who does not restrain his avarice, must forever be poor. However, Demetrius, far from being intimidat- ed, said, " Though I hud lost a thousand battles as great as that of Ipsus, nothing should bring me to buy the alliance of Seleucus;" and, upon this principle, he garrisoned these cities in the strong- est manner. About this time, having intelligence that Athens was divided into factions, and that Lachares, taking advantage of these, had seized the government, he expected to take the city with ease, if he appeared suddenly before it. Ac- cordingly, he set out with a considerable fleet, and crossed the sea without danger; but on the coast of Attica, he met with a storm, in which he lost many ships and great numbers of his men. He escaped, however, himself, and began hostili- ties against Athens, though with no great vigor. As his operations answered no end, he sent his lieutenants to collect another fleet, and, in the meantime, entered Peloponnesus, and laid siege to Messene. In one of the assaults, he was in great danger; fora dart which came from an en- gine, pierced through his jaw, and entered his mouth. But he recovered, and reduced some cities that had revolted. After this, he invaded At- tica again, took Eleusis and Rharnnus and ravaged the country. Happening to take a ship loaded with wheat, which was bound for Athens, he hanged both the merchant and the pilot. This alarmed other merchants so much, that they for- bore attempting anything of that kind, so that a famine ensued; and, together with the want of bread-corn, the people were in want of everything else. A bushel of salt was sold for forty drach- mas,* and a peckf of wheat for three hundred. A fleet of a hundred and fifty ships, which Ptolemy sent to their relief, appeared before JEgina; but the encouragement it afforded them was of short continuance. A great reinforcement of ships came to Demetrms from Peloponnesus and Cy- prus, so that he had not in all fewer than three hundred. Ptolemy's fleet, therefore, weighed anchor and steered off. The tyrant Lacharea, * Medimnus. t Modtus. These measures were something more, hot we give only the round quantity. See the Table. MJO PLUTARCH'S LIVES. &t the same time, made his escape privately, and abandoned the city. The Athenians, though they had made a decree, that no man under pain of death, should men- tion peace or reconciliation with Demetrius, now opened the gates nearest him, and sent am- bassadors o his camp. Not that they expected any favor from him, but they were forced to take that step by the extremity of famine. In the course of it many dreadful things happened, and this is related among the rest. A father and his son were silting in the same room, in the last despair; when a dead mouse happening to fall from the roof of the house, they both started up and fought for it. Epicurus the philosopher is said at that time to have supported his friends and disciples with beans, which he shared with them, and counted out to them daily. In such a miserable condition was the city, when Demetrius entered it. He ordered all the Athenians to assemble in the theater, which he surrounded with his troops; and having planted his guards on each side the stage, he^came down through the passage by which the tragedians enter The fears of the people, on his appearance, increas- ed, but they were entirely dissipated when he be- gan to speak; for neither the accent of his voice was loud, nor his expressions severe. He com- plained of them in soft and easy terms, and taking them again into favor, made them a present of a hundred thousand measures of wheat,* and re- established such an administration as was mosl agreeable to them. The orator Dromoclides observed the variety of acclamations among the people, and that in the joy of their hearts they endeavored to outdo the encomiums of those that spoke from the ros trum. He therefore proposed a decree that the Pirae.us and the fort of Munychia should be de- livered up to king Demetrius. After this bill was passed, Demetrius, on his own authority, put a garrison in the museum; lest if there should be another defection among the people, it might keep them from other enterprises. The Athenians thus reduced, Demetrius imme diately formed a design upon Lacedaemon. King Archidarnus met him at Mantinea, where Deme- trius defeated him in a pitched battle; and, afte: he had put him to flight, he entered Laconia There was another action almost in sight of Sparta iu which he killed two hundred of the enemy and made five hundred prisoners; so that lie seemed almost master of a town which hithert< had never been taken. But surely fortune neve displayed such sudden and extraordinary vicissi tudes in the life of any other prince; in no othe scene of things did she so often change from low to high, from a glorious to an abject condition, o again repair the ruins she had made. Hence he i said in his greatest adversity, to have addressee her in the words of ^Eschylus Thou gavest me life and honor, and thy hand Now strikes me to the heart. When his affairs seemed to be in so promisin; a train for power and empire, news was brough that Lysirnachus, in the first place, had taken th cities he had in Asia, that Ptolemy had dispos sessed him of all Cyprus, except the city of Sala mis, in which he had left his children and hi mother, and that this town was now actually be sieged. Fortune, however, like the woman " Archilochus, Whose right hand ofiered water, while the left Bore hostile fire * Medimni. Chough she drew him from Lacedsemon by these larrning tidings, yet soon raised him a new scene f liglit and hope. She availed herself of thes ircu instances. Afttr the death of Cassander, his eldest son 'hilip had but a short reign over the Macedonians, or he died soon after his father. The two re- maining brothers were perpetually at variance. One of them, named Antipater, having killed his mother Thessalonica, Alexander, the other brother, :alled in the Greek princes to his assistance Pyr- hus from Epirus, and Demetrius from Pelopon* lesus. Pyrrhus arrived first, and seized a con- iderable part of Macedonia, which he kept foi lis reward, and by that means became a for- nidable neighbor to Alexander. Demetrius no ooner received the letters than he marched his 'orces thither likewise, and the young prince was itill more afraid of him on account of his great tame and dignity. He met him, however, at )ium, and received him in the most respectful nanner, but told him at the same time that his affairs did not now require his presence. Hence nutual jealousies arose, and Demetrius, as he was joing to sup with Alexander upon his invitation, was informed that there was a design against his ife, which was to be put in execution in the midst of the entertainment. Demetrius was not in the east disconcerted; he only slackened his pace, and rave orders to his generals to keep the troops un- der arms; after which he took his guards and the officers of his household, who were much more mmerous than those of Alexander, and com- nanded them to enter the banqueting room with him, and to remain there until he arose from the table. Alexander's people, intimidated by his train, durst not attack Demetrius : and he, for his part, pretending that he was not disposed to drink that evening, soon withdrew. Next day, he prepared to decamp; and, alleging that he was called off by some new emergency, desired Alex- ander to excuse him if he left them soon this time; and assured him that at some other oppor- tunity he would make a longer stay. Alexander rejoiced that he was going away voluntarily, and without any hostile intentions, and accompanied him as far as Thessaly. When they came to Larissa, they renewed their invitations, but both with malignity in their hearts. In consequence of these polite maneuvers, Alexander fell into the snare of Demetrius, He would not go with a guard, lest he should teach the other to do the same. He therefore suffered that which he was preparing for his enemy, and which he only de- ferred for the surer and more convenient execu- tion. He went to sup with Demetrius; and as his host rose up in the midst of the feast, Alexan- der was terrified, and rose up with him. Deme- trius, when he was at the door, said no more to his guards than this, "Kill the man that follows me;" and then went out. Upon which they cut Alex- ander in pieces, and his friends who attempted to assist him. One of them is reported to have said, as he was dying, " Demetrius is but one day be- forehand with us." The night was, as might be expected, full of terror and confusion. In the morning the Mace- donians were greatly disturbed with the apprehen- sion that Demetrius would fall upon them with all his forces; but when, instead of an appearance of hostilities, he sent a message desiring to speak with them, and vindicate what was done, they re- covered their spirits, and resolved to receive him with civility: when he came, he found it unneces- sary to make long speeches. They hated Anti- pater for the murder of his mother, and as they DEMETRIUS. 581 had no better prince at hand, they declared Deme- trius king, and conducted him into Macedonia. The Macedonians who were at home, proved not averse to the change: for they always remembered with horror Cassander's base behavior to Alex- ander the Great; and if they had any regard left for the moderation of old Antipater, it turned all in favor of Demetrius, who had married his daugh- ter Pliila, and had a son by her to succeed him in the throne, a youth who was already grown up, and at this very time bore arms under his father. Immediately after this glorious turn of fortune, Demetrius received news that Ptolemy had set his Wife and children at liberty, and dismissed them with presents and other tokens of honor. He was informed, too, that his daughter, who had been marrfcd to Seleucus, was now wife to Antiochus, the son of that prince, and declared queen of the barbarous nations in Upper Asia. Antiochus was violently enamored of the young Stratonice, though she had a son by his father. His condi- tion was extremely unhappy. He made the great- est efforts to conquer his passion, but they were of no avail. At last, considering that his desires were of the most extravagant kind, that there was no prospect of satisfaction for them, and that the succors of reason entirely failed, he resolved in his despair to rid himself of life, and bring it gradu- ally to a period, by neglecting all care of his person, and abstaining from food; for this purpose he made sickness his pretense. His physician, Erasistratus, easily discovered that his distemper was love, but it was difficult to conjecture who was the object. In order to find it out, he spent whole days in his chamber; and whenever any beautiful person of either sex entered it, he ob- served with great attention, not only his looks, but every part and motion of the body which cor- responds the most with the passions of the soul. When others entered he was entirely unaffected, but when Stratonice carne in, as she often did, either alone or with Seleucus, he showed all the symptoms described by Sappho, the faltering voice, the burning blush, the languid eye, the sudden sweat, the tumultuous pulse; and at length, the passion overcoming his spirits, a deliquium and mortal paleness. Erasistratus concluded from these tokens that the prince was in love with Stratonice, and per- ceived that he intended to carry the secret with him to the grave. He saw the difficulty of break- ing the matter to Seleucus; yet depending upon the affection which the king had for his son, he ventured one day to tell him, "That the young man's disorder was love; but love for which there was no remedy." The king, quite astonished, said, " How! love for which there is no remedy!" "It is certainly so," answered Erasistratus, "for he is in love with my wife." "What! Erasistratus!" said the king, "would you, who are my friend, refuse to give up your wife to my son, when you see us in danger of losing our only hope?" " Nay, would you do such a thing?" answered the physician, " though you are his lather, if he were in love with Stra- tonice?" " O my friend," replied Seleucus, " how happy should I be, if either God or man could remove his affections thither! I would give up my kingdom, so I could but keep Antiochus." He prunoanced these words with so much emotion, and such a profusion of tears, that Erasistratus took him by the hand, and said, "Then there is no need of Erasistratus. You, sir, who are a father, a husband, and a king, will be the best physician too for your family.*' Upon this, Seleucus summoned the people to meet in full assembly, and told them, "It was his will and pleasure that Antiochus should inter- marry with Stratonice, and that they should be declared king and queen of the. Upper Provinces. ' He believed," he said, " that Antiochus, who was such an obedient son, would not oppose his desire; and if the princess should oppose the mar- riage, as an unprecedented thing, he hoped his friends would persuade her to think, that what was agreeable to the king, and advantageous to the kingdom, was both just and honorable." Such is said to have been the cause of the marriage be- tween Antiochus and Stratonice. Demetrius was now muster of Macedonia and Thessaly ; and as he had great part of Peloponnesus too, and the cities of Megara and Athens on the other side of the Isthmus, he wanted to reduce the Boeotians, and threatened them with hostilities. At first they proposed to come to an accommoda- tion with him on reasonable conditions; but Cle- onymus, the Spartan, having thrown himself in the meantime into Thebes with his army, the Boeotians were so much elated, that, at the insti- gation of Pisis, the Thespian, who was a leading man among them, they broke off the treaty. De- metrius then drew up his machines to the walls, and laid siege to Thebes; upon which Cleonymus apprehending the consequence, stole out: and the Thebans were so much intimidated, that they immediately surrendered. Demetrius placed gar- risons in their cities, exacted large contributions, and left Hieronymus, the historian, governor of Boeotia. He appeared, however, to make a mer- ciful use of his victory, particularly in the case of Pisis; for though he took him prisoner, he did not offer him any injury: on the contrary, he treated him with great civility and politeness, and appointed him polemarch of ThespiaB. Not long after this, Lysimachus being taken prisoner by Dromichffites, Demetrius marched to- ward Thrace with all possible expedition, hoping to find it in a defenseless sfote. But, while he he was gone, the Boeotians revolted again, and he had the mortification to hear on the road, that Lysimachus was set at liberty. He, therefore, immediately turned back in great anger; and finding, on his return, that the Boeotians were already driven out of the field by his son Anti- gonus, he laid siege again to Thebes. However, as Pyrrhus had overrun all Thessaly, and was ad- vanced as far as Thermopylae, Demetrius left the conduct of the siege to his son Antigonus, and inarched against the warrior. Pyrrhus immediately retiring, Demetrius placed a guard of ten thousand foot, and a thousand horse in Thessaly, and then returned to the siege. His first operation was to bring up his machine called helepoles; but he proceeded in it with great liibor, and by slow degrees, by reason of its size and weight; he could scarce move it two furlongs in two months.* As the Boeotians made a vigor- ous resistance, and Demetrius often obliged his men to renew the assault, rather out of a spirit of animosity, than the hope of any advantage, young Antigonus was greatly concerned at seeing such numbers fall, and said, "Why, sir, do we let these brave fellows lose their lives without any necessity?" Demetrius, offended at the liberty h^ took, made answer, " Why do you trouble, yourself about it? Have you any provisions to find for the dead?" To show, however, that he was not prodigal of the lives of his troops only, he took his share in the danger, and received a * A wonderful kind of motion this for a machine that ran upon wheels; about twelve inches in an hour. 582 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. wound from a lance, that pierced through his neck. This gave him excessive pain, yet he con- tinued the siege until he once more made himself master of Thebes. He entered the city with such an air of resentment and severity, that the inhab- itants expected to suffer the most dreadful punish- ments; yet he contented himself with putting thirteen of them to death and banishing a few more. All the rest he pardoned. Thus Thebes was taken twice within, ten years after its being rebuilt. The Pythian games now approached, and De- metrius on this occasion took a very extraordinary step. As the ^Etolians were in possession of the passes to Delphi, he ordered the games to be sol- emnized at Athens; alleging, that they could not pay their homage to Apollo in a more proper place than that where the people considered him as their patron and progenitor. From thence he returned to Macedonia: but as he was naturally indisposed for a life of quiet and inaction, and observed beside that the Macedo- nians were attentive and obedient to him in time of war, though turbulent and seditious in peace, he undertook an expedition against the ^Etolians. After he had ravaged the country, he leftPantau- chus there with a respectable army, and with the rest of his forces marched against Pyrrhus. Pyr- rhus was coming to seek him; but as they hap- pened to take different roads, and missed each other, Demetrius laid waste Epirus, and Pyrrhus falling upon Pantauchus, obliged him to stand on his defense. The two generals met in the action, and both gave and received wounds. Pyrrhus, however, defeated his adversary, killed great num- bers of his men, and made five thousand prisoners. This battle was the principal cause of Derne- trius's ruin; for Pyrrhus was not so much hated by the Macedonians for the mischief he had done them, as admired for his personal bravery; and the late battle in particular gained him great honor: insomuch that many of the Macedonians said, " That of all the kings, it was in Pyrrhus only that they saw a lively image of Alexander's valor; whereas, the other princes, especially De- metrius, imitated him only in a theatrical man- ner, by affecting a lofty port and majestic air." Indeed, Demetrius did always appear like a theatrical king. For he not only affected a su- perfluity of ornament in wearing a double dia- dem, and a robe of purple, interwoven with gold, but he had his shoes made of cloth of gold, with soles of fine purple. There was a robe a long time in weaving for him, of most sumptuous magnificence. The figure of the world and all the heavenly bodies were to be represented upon it; but it was left unfinished, on account of his change of fortune. Nor did any of his succes- sors ever presume to wear it, though Macedon had many pompous kings after him. This ostentation of dress offended a people who were unaccustomed to such sights: but his luxu- rious and dissolute manner of life was a more ob- noxious circumstance; and what disobliged them most of all was his difficulty of access. For he either refused to see those who applied to him, or behaved to them in a harsh and haughty manner. Though he favored the Athenians more than the rest of the Greeks, their ambassadors waited two years at his court for an answer. The Lacede- monians happening to send only one ambassador to him, he considered it an affront, and said in great anger, " What! have the Lacedaemonians sent no more than one ambassador?" " No,'"' said the Spartan, acutely ii his laconic way, "one ambassador to one king." One day, when he seemed to come out in ft more obliging temper, and to be something less inaccessible, he was presented with several peti- tions, all which he received, and put them in the skirt of his robe. The people of course followed him with great joy: but no sooner was he come to the bridge over the Axius than he opened his robe, and shook them all into the river. This stung the Macedonians to the heart; when, look- ing for the protection of a king, they found the insolence of a tyrant. And this treatment ap- peared the harder to such as had seen, or heard from those who had seen, how kind the behavior of Philip was on such occasions. An old woman was one day very troublesome to him in the street, and begged with great importunity to be heard: He said, "He was not at leisure." " Then," cried the old woman, " you should not be a king." The king was struck with these words; and having considered the thing a mo- ment, he returned to his palace; where, postpon- ing all other affairs, he gave audience for several days to all who chose to apply to him, beginning with the old woman. Indeed, nothing becomes a king so much as the distribution of justice. For "Mars is a tyrant," as Timotheus expresses it; but justice, according to Pin<dar, " Is the rightful sovereign of the world." The things, which Homer tells us, kings receive from Jove, are not machines for taking towns, or ships with brazen beaks, but law and justice:* these they are to guard and to cultivate. And it is not the most warlike, the most violent and sanguinary, but the justest of princes, whom he calls the dis- ciple of Jupiter.f But Demetrius was pleased with an appellation quite opposite to that which is given the king of the gods. For Jupiter is called Pulicuo and Poliuchus, the patron and guardian of cities; Demetrius is su mamed Polior- cetes, the destroyer of cities. Thus, in consequence of the union of power and folly, vice is substitut- ed in the place of virtue, and the ideas of glory and injustice are united too. When Demetrius lay dangerously ill at Pella, he was very near losing Macedonia; for Pyrrhus by a sudden inroad, penetrated as far as Edessa: but as soon as he recovered, he repulsed him with ease, and afterward he came to terms with him; for he was not willing to be hindered, by skir- mishing for posts with Pyrrhus, from the pursuit of greater and more arduous enterprises. His scheme was to recover till his father's dominions; and his preparations were suitable to the great- ness of the object. For he had raised an army of ninety-eight thousand foot, and near twelve thou- sand horse; and he was building five hundred galleys in the ports of Pi r agus, Corinth, Chalcis, and Pella. He went himself to all these places to give directions to the workmen, and assist in the construction. All the world was surprised, not only at the number, but at the greatness of his works. For no man, before his time, ever saw 3 galley of fifteen or sixteen banks of oars. Af- terward, indeed, Ptolemy Pbilopater built one of forty banks; its length was two hundred and eighty cubits, and its hight to the top of the prow forty-eight cubits. Four hundred mariners be- longed to it, exclusive of the rowers, who were no fewer than four thousand; and the decks and the several interstices were capable of containing near three thousand soldiers. This, however, was mere matter of curiosity; for it differed very little from an immovable building, and was calcu- lated more for show than for use, as it could not ' Iliad, U. 231. t Odyssey, xix. 178. DEMETRIUS. 588 be put in motion without great difficulty and danger. But the ships of Demetrius had their use as well as beauty; with all their magnificence of construction, they were equally fit for fight- ing; and though they were admirable' for their size, they were still more so for the swiftness of their motion. Demetrius having provided such an armament for the invasion of Asia as no man ever had be- fore him, except Alexander the Great, Seleucus, Ptolemy, and Lysirnachus, united against him. They likewise joined in an application to Pyr- rhus; desiring him to fall upon Macedonia; and not to look to himself as bound by the treaty with Demetrius, since that prince had entered into it, not with any regard to the advantage of Pyrrhus, or in order to avoid future hostilities, but merely for his own sake, that he might at present be at liberty to turn his arms against whom he pleased. As Pyrrhus accepted the pro- posal, Demetrius, while he was preparing for his voyage, found himself surrounded with war at home. For, at one instant of time, Ptolemy, came with a great fleet to draw Greece off from its present master: Lysimachus invaded Macedo- nia from Thrace; and Pyrrhus entering it from a nearer quarter, joined in ravaging the country. Demetrius, on this occasion, left his son in Greece, and went himself to the relief of Mace- donia. His first operations were intended against Lysimachus, but as he was upon his march he received an account that Pyrrhus had taken Boroea ; and the news soon spreading among his Macedonians, he could do nothing in an orderly manner: for nothing was to be found in the whole army but lamentations, tears, and expressions of resentment and reproach against their king. They were even ready to march off, uuder pretense of attending to their domestic af- foirs, but in fact to join Lysimachus. In this case Demetrius thought proper to get at the greatest distance he could from Lysimachus, and turn his arms against Pyrrhus. Lysirna- chus was of their own nation, and many of them knew him in the service of Alexander; whereas Pyrrhus was an entire stranger, and therefore he thought the Macedonians would never give him the preference. But he was sadly mistaken in his conjecture: and he soon found it upon encamping near Pyrrhus. The Macedonians always admir- ed his distinguished valor, and had of old been ac- customed to think the best man in the field the most worthy of a crown. Beside, they received daily accounts of the clemency with which he jehaved to his prisoners. Indeed, they were in- clined to desert to him or any other, so they could but get rid of Demetrius. They therefore began to go off privately, and in small parties at first, but afterward there was nothing but open disorder and mutiny in the camp. At last, some of them had the assurance to go to Demetrius, and bid him provide for himself by flight, for "The Macedo- nians (they told him) were tired of fighting to maintain his luxury." These expressions ap- peared modest in comparison of the rude behavior of others. He therefore entered his tent not like a real king, but a theatrical one, and having quit- ted his royal robe for a black one, privately with- drew. As multitudes were pillaging his tent, who not only tore it in pieces, but fought for the plunder, Pyrrhus made his appearance; upon which, the tumult instantly ceased, and the whole army submitted to him. Lysimachus and he then divided Macedonia between them, which Demetrius had held without disturbance for seven years Demetrius, thus fallen from the pinnacle of power, fled to Cassandria, where his wife Phiia was. Nothing could equal her sorrow on this occasion. She could not bear to see the unfortu- nate Demetrius once more a private man and an exile; in her despair, therefore, and detestation of fortune, who was always more constant to him in her visits of adversity than prosperity, she took poison. Demetrius, however, resolved to gather up the remains of his wreck; for which purpose here- paired to Greece, and collected such of his friends and officers as he found there. Menelaus, in one of the tragedies of Sophocles, gives this picture of his own fortune. e s er or wt gt; ut w In all her pride, she then begins once more To waste her glories, till dissolved and lost, She sinks again to darkness.- - But this picture is more applicable to Demetrius, in his increase and wane, his splendor and ob- scurity. His glory seemed now entirely eclipsed and extinguished, and yet it broke out again, and shone with new splendor. Fresh forces came in, and gradually filled up the measure of his hopes. This was the first time he addressed the cities as a private man, and without any of the ensigns of royalty. Somebody seeing him at Thebes in this condition, applied to him, with propriety enough, those verses of Euripides, To Dirce's fountain, and Ismenus' shore, In mortal form he moves, a God no more. When he had got into the high road of hope again, and had once more a respectable force and form of royalty about him, he restored the The- bans their ancient government and laws. At the same time the Athenians abandoned his inter- ests, and erasing out of their registers the name of Diphilus, who was then priest of the gods- protectors, ordered Archons to be appointed again, according to ancient custom. They likewise sent for Pyrrhus from Macedonia, because they saw Demetrius grow stronger than they ex- pected; Demetrius, greatly enraged, marched im- mediately to attack them, and laid strong siege to the city. But Crates the philosopher, a man of great reputation and authority, being sent out to him by the people, partly by his entreaties for the Athenians, and partly by representing to him that his interest lay another way, prevailed on Deme- trius to raise the siege. After this, he collected all his ships, embarked his army, which consisted of eleven thousand foot, beside cavalry, and sailed to Asia, in hopes of drawing Caria and Lydia over from Lysimachus. Eurydice, the sister of Phila, received him at Miletus, having brought with her Ptolemais, a daughter she had by Ptole- my, who had formerly been promised him upon the application of Seleucus. Demetrius married her with the free consent of Eurydice, and soon after attempted the cities in that quarter; many of them opened their gates to him, and many others he took by force. Among the latter was Sardis. Some of the officers of Lysimachus likewise deserted to him, and brought sufficient appointments of money and troops with them. But, as Agathocles the son of Lysimachus came against him with a great army, he marched to Phrygiu, with an intention to seize Armenia, and then to try Media and the Upper Provinces, which might afford him many places of retreat upon occasion. Agathocles followed him close, PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and as he found Demetrius superior in all the skirmishes that he ventured upon, he betook him- self to cutting off his convoys. This distressed him not a little; and, what was another disagree- able circumstance, his soldiers suspected that he designed to lead them into Armenia and Media. The famine increased every day; and, by mis- taking the fords of the river Lycus, he had a great number of men swept away with the stream. Yet, amidst all their distress, his troops were capable of jesting. One of them wrote upon the door of his tent, the beginning of the tragedy of (Edipus with a amall alteration, Thou offspring of the blind old king Antigonus, Where dost thou lead us? Pestilence, at last followed the famine, as it commonly happens when people are under a ne- eessity of eating anything, however unwholesome, BO that finding he had lost in all not less than eight thousand men, he turned back with the rest. When he came down to Tarsus, he was desirous of sparing the country, because it belonged to Se- leucus; and he did not think proper to give him any pretense to declare against him. But perceiv- ing that it was impossible for his troops to avoid taking something, when they were reduced to such extremities, and that Agathocles had fortified the passes of Mount Taurus, he wrote a letter to Seleu- cus containing a long and moving detail of his misfortune, and concluding with strong entreaties thai he would take compassion on a prince who was allied to him, and whose sufferings were such as even an enemy might be affected with. Seleucus was touched with pity, and sent orders to his lieutenants in those parts to supply Deme- trius with everything suitable to the state of a king, and his army, with sufficient provisions. But Patrocles, who was a man of understanding, and a faithful friend to Seleucus, went to that prince and represented to him, " That the expense of furnishing the troops of Demetrius with provisions was a thing of small importance, in comparison of suffering Demetrius himself to remain in the country, who was always one of the most violent and enterprising princes in the world, and now was in such desperate circumstances as might put even those of the mildest dispositions on bold and unjust attempts." Upon these representations Seleucus inarched into Cilicia with a great army. Demetrius, aston- ished and terrified at the sudden change of Seleu- cus, withdrew to the strongest posts he could find upon Mount Taurus, and sent a message to him, begging, " That he might be suffered to make a conquest of some free nations of barbarians, and by settling among them as their king put a peri- od to his wanderings. If this could not be grant- ed, he hoped Seleucus would at least permit him to winter in that country, and not by driving him out naked and in want of everything, expose him in that condition to his enemies." All these proposals had a suspicious appearance to Seleucus; he made answer, " That he might, if he pleased, spend two months of the winter in Cataonia, if he sent him his principal friends as hostages." But at the same time he secured the passes into Syria. Demetrius, thus surrounded like a wild beast in the toils, was under a neces- sity of having recourse to violence. He therefore ravaged the country, and had the advantage of Seleucus whenever he attacked him. Seleucus once beset him with his armed chariots, and yet he broke through them, and put his enemy to the rout. After this he dislodged the corps that was to defend the bights on the side of Syria, and made himself master of the passages. Elevated with this success, and finding the cour- age of his men restored, he prepared to fight a de- cisive battle with Seleucus. That prince was now in great perplexity. He had rejected the succors offered hirn by Lysimachus, for want of confidence in his honor, and from an apprehension of his designs; and he was loth to try his strength with Demetrius, because he dreaded his desperate cour- age, as well as his usual change of fortune, which often raised him from great misery to the summit of power. In the meantime, Demetrius was seized with a fit of sickness, which greatly impaired his personal vigor, and entirely ruined his affairs: for part of his men went over to the enemy, and part left their colors and dispersed. In forty days he recovered with great difficulty; and getting un- der march with the remains of his army, made a feint of moving toward Cilicia. But afterward in the night he decamped without sound of trum- pet, and taking the contrary way, crossed Mount Arnanus, and ravaged the country on tiit other sida as tar as Cyrrhestica. Seleucus followed, and encamped vary near him-. Demetrius then put his army in motion in tho night, in hopes of surprising him. Seleucus was retired to rest; and in all probability his enemy would have succeeded had not. some deserters in- formed him of his danger, jyst time enough for him to put himself in a posture of defense. Upon this he started up in great consternation, and ordered the trumpets to sound an alarm; and as h put on his sandals, he said to his friends, " What a terrible wild beast are we engaged with!" De- metrius perceiving by the tumult in the enemy's camp that his scheme was discovered, retired as fast as possible. At break of day Seleucus offered him battle, when Demetrius ordering one of his officers to take care of one wing, put himself at the head of the other, and made some impression upon the enemy. Meantime Seleucus quitting his horse, and laying aside his helmet, presented himself to Demetrius's hired troops with only his buckler in his hand, exhorting them to come over to him, and to be convinced at last that it was to spare them, not Demetrius, that he had been so long about the war Upon which they all saluted him king, and ranger themselves under his banner. Demetrius, though of all the changes he ha<! experienced, he thought this the most terrible, ye' imagining that he might extricate himself from this distress as well as the rest, fled to the passes of Mount Amanus, and gaining a thick wood, waited there for the night, with a few friends and attendants who followed his fortune. His inten- tion was, if possible, to take the way to Caunus, where he hoped to find his fleet, and from thence to make his escape by sea: but knowing he had not provisions even for that day, he sought for some other expedient. Afterward one 'of his friends, named Sosigenes, arrived with four hun- dred pieces of gold in his purse; with the assirtance of which money they hoped to reach the sea. Ac- cordingly when night came, they attempted to pass the bights; but finding a number of fires lighted there by the enemy, they despaired of suc- ceeding that way, and returned to their former re- treat, but neither with their whole company (for some had gone off), nor with the same spirits. One of them venturing to tell him, that he thought it was best for him to surrender himself to Seleucus, Demetrius drew his sword to kill him- self; but his friends interposed, and consoling him in the best manner they could, persuaded him to follow his advice: in consequence of which he sent to Seleucus, and yielded himself to his discretion DEMETRIUS. 585 Upon this news, Selencus said to those about i with patience, by custom learned to submit to It him, "It is not the good fortune of Demetrius, but with a still better grace. For some time he took mine, that now saves him; and that adds to other the exercises of hunting and running; but he left favors llii.s opportunity of testifying my humani- them by degrees, and sank into indolence and in- ty." Then, calling the officers of his household activity. Afterward he took to drinking and play, he ordered them to pitch a royal tent, and to pro- | and spent most of his time in that kind of dissipa- tion. Whether it was to put off the thoughts of his present condition, which he could not bear in there happened to be in the service of Seleucus I his sober hours, and to drown reflection in the one Appollonides, who was an old acquaintance! bowl, or whether he was sensible at last that this of Demetrius, he immediately sent that person to was the sort of life, which, though originally the Vide everything else for his reception and enter- tainment in the most magnificent manner. As him, that he might be more at ease, and come Tvith the greater confidence, as to a son-in-law tnd a friend. On the discovery of this favorable disposition of Seleucus toward him, at a first view, a*nd afterward, a great number of the courtiers waited on Deme- trius, and strove which should pay him the most respect; for it was expected that his interest with Seleucus would soon be the best in the kingdom. But these compliments turned the compassion which his distress had excited into -jealousy, and gave occasion to the envious and malevolent to di- vert the stream of the king's humanity from him, by alarming him with apprehensions of no insen- sible change, but of the greatest commotions in his army on the sight of Demetrius. Appollonides was now come to Demetrius with great satisfaction; end others who followed to pay their court, brought extraordinary accounts of the kindness of Seleucus; insomuch that Demetri- us, though in the first shock of his misfortune, he had thought it a great disgrace to surrender himself, was now displeased at his aversion to that step. Such confidence had he in the hopes they held out to him, when Pausanias coming with a party of horse and foot, to the number of a thous- and, suddenly surrounded him, and drove away such as he found inclined to favor his cause. After he had thus seized his person, instead of conducting him to the presence of Seleucus, he carried him to the Syri- an Chersonesus. There he was kept, indeed, under a strong guard, but Seleucus sent him a sufficient equipage, and supplied him with money and a table suitable to his rank. He had also places of exercise and walks worthy of a king; his parks Were well stored with game; and such of his friends RS had accompanied him milted to attend him. in his flight, were per- Seleucus, too, had the complaisance often to send some of his people with kind and encouraging messages, intimating, that as soon as Antiochus and Stratonice should arrive, terms of accommodation would be hit upon, and he would obtain his liberty. Under this misfortune, Demetrius wrote to his on, and to his officers and friends in Athens and Corinth, desiring them to trust neither his hand- writing nor his seal, but to act as if he were dead, and to keep the cities and all his remaining estates for Antigonus. When the young prince was in- formed of his father's confinement, he was ex- tremely concerned at it; he put on mourning, and wrote not only to the other kings, but to Seleucus himself; offering, on condition that his father were set free, to cede all the possessions they had left, and deliver himself up as a hostage. Many cities and princes joined in the request; but Lysimachus was not of that number. On the contrary, he offered Seleucus a large sum of money to induce nim to put Demetrius to death. Seleucus, who looked upon him in an indifferent light before, ab- horred him as a villain for his and only waited for the arrival of Antiochus and Stratonice, to make them the compliment of restoring Deme- trius to his liberty. Demetrius, who at first supported his misfortune object of his desires, he had idly wandered from, to follow the dictates of an absurd ambition. Per- haps he considered that he had given himself and others infinite trouble, by seeking with fleets and armies that happiness which he found when he least expected it, in ease, indulgence, and repose. For what other ends does the wretched vanity of kings propose to itself in all their wars and dangers, but to quit the paths of virtue and honor for those of luxury and pleasure; the sure consequence of their not knowing what real pleasure and true en- joyment are. Demetrius, after three years' confinement in the Chersonesus, fell into a distemper occasioned by idleness and excess, which carried him off at the age of fifty-four. Seleucus was severely censur- ed, and indeed was much concerned himself, for his unjust suspicions of Demetrius, whereas he should have followed the example of Dromichaetes, who, though a Thracian and barbarian, had treat- ed Lysimachus, when his prisoner, with all the generosity that became a king. There was something of a theatrical pomp even in the funeral of Demetrius. For Antigonus be- ing informed that they were bringing his father's ashes to Greece, went to meet them with his whole fleet; and finding them near the Isles of the^Egean sea, he took the urn, which was of solid gold, on board the admiral galley. The cities at which they touched sent crowns to adorn the urn, and per- sons in mourning to assist at the funeral solemnity. When the fleet approached Corinth, the urn wac seen in a conspicuous position upon the stern of the vessel, adorned with a purple robe and a diadem, and attended by a company of young men well armed. Xenophantus, a most celebrated perform- er on the flute, sat by the urn, and played a solemn air. The oars kept time with the notes, and ac- companied them with a melancholy sound, like that of mourners in a funeral procession, beating their breasts in concert with the music. But it was the mournful appearance and the tears of An- tigouus that excited the greatest compassion among the people as they passed. After the Corinthians had bestowed crowns and all due honors upon the remains, Antigonus carried them to Demetrius and deposited them there. This was a city called after the deceased, which he had peopled, from the little towns about Jolcos. Demetrius left behind him several children; An- tigonus and Stratonice, whom he had by his wife Phila; two sons of the name of Demetrius, one surnamed The Slender, by an Illyrian woman; the other was by Ptolemais, and came to be king of Gyrene. By Deidamia he had Alexander, who took up his residence in Egypt; and by his hist wife Eurydice he is said to have had a son named Corrha3bus. His posterity enjoyed the throne in continued succession down to Perseus* the last king of Macedon, in whose time the Romans suh- dued that country. Thus having gone through the Macedonian drama, it is time that we bring the Roman upon the stage. * About one hundred and sixteen yean. PLUTARCH'S LIVES. A N T M Y. THH grandfather of Mark Antony was Antony the orator, who followed the faction of Sylla, and was put to death by Marius.* His father was Antony, surnained the Cretan, a man of no figure or consequence in the political world ,f but distin- guished for his integrity, benevolence, and liberal- ity; of which the following little circumstance is a sufficient proof. His fortune was not large; and his wife, therefore, very prudently laid some re- straint on his munificent disposition. An acquain- tance of his, who was under some pecuniary dif- ficulties, applied to him for assistance ; Antony, having no money at command, ordered his boy to bring him a silver basin full of water, under a pretense of shaving. After the boy was dismissed he gave the basin to his friend, and bade him make, what use of it he thought proper. The disappear- ance of the basin occasioned no small commotion in the family; and Antony finding his wife prepared to take a severe account of the servants, begged her pardon, and told her the truth. His wife's name was Julia; she was of the fami- ly of the Caesars, and a woman of distinguished merit and modesty. Under her auspices Mark Antony received his education; when, after the death of his father she married Cornelius Lcntul us, whom Cicero put to death for engaging in the conspiracy of Catiline. This was the origin of that lasting enmity which subsisted between Ci- cero and Antony. The latter affirmed, that his mother Julia was even obliged to beg the body of Cicero's wife for interment. But this is not true; for none of those who suffered on the same occa- sion, under Cicero, were refused this privilege. Antony was engaging in his person, and was un- fortunate enough to fall into the good graces and friendship of Curio, a man who was devoted to every species of licentiousness, and who, to ren- der Antony the more dependent on him, led him into all the excesses of indulging in wine and women, and all the expenses that such indulgen- ces are attended with. Of course, he was soon deeply involved in debt, and owed at least two hundred and fifty talents, while he was a very young man. Curio was bound for the payment of this money; and his father being informed of it, banished Antony from his house. Thus dis- missed, he attached himself to Clodius, that pes- tilent and audacious tribune, who threw the state into such dreadful disorder; until weary of his mad measures, and fearful of his opponents, he passed into Greece, where he employed himself in military exercises, and the study of eloquence. The Asiatic sty lei was then much in vogue, and Antony fell naturally into it; for it was corre- spondent with his manners, which were vain, pom- pous, insolent, and assuming. * Valerius Maximus says, that Antony the orator was put to deatn by the joint order of Cinna and Marius But Ci- cero mentions China as the immediate cause Cic Philin I t Nevertheless, he conducted the war in Crete,' and from hence was called Cretensis. t Cicero, in his Brutus mentions two sorts of style call- ed the Asiatic. Unum sententiosum et argutum, iententiis nan tarn grav&tu et sever is quam concinnis et venustis Aliud autem genus cut non tarn sententiisfrequentatnm quam verbis voluerc, alque incitat im quali nunc est Asia tola nee flumine solum orationis, sed etiam exornato et faccto genere verborum. In Greece he received an invitation from Gab inius the proconsul, to make a campaign with him in Syria.* This invitation he refused to accept, as a private man; but being appointed tc the command of the cavalry, he attended him. His first operation was against Aristobulus, who had excited jthe Jews to a revolt. He was the first who scaled the wall; and this he did in the highest part. He drove Aristobulus from all his forts; and afterward with a handful of men, de- feated his numerous army in a pitched battle. Most of the enemy were slain, and Aristobulus and his son were taken prisoners. Upon the conclusion of this war, Gabinius was solicited by Ptolemy to carry his arms into Egypt, and restore him to his kingdom. f The reward of this service was to be ten thousand talents. Most of the officers disapproved of the expedition; and Gabinius him- self did not readily enter into it, though the money pleaded strongly in his behalf. Antony, how- ever, ambitious of great enterprises, and vain of gratifying a suppliant king, used every means to draw Gabinius into the service, and prevailed. It was the general opinion, that the march to Pelu- siurn was more dangerous than the war that was to follow. For they were to pass over a sandy and unwatered country, by the filthy marsh of Serbonis, whose stagnant ooze the Egyptians call the exhalations of Typhon; though it is proba- bly no more than the drainings of the Red Sea, which is there separated from the Mediterranean only by a small neck of land. Antony being ordered thither with the cavalry, not only seized the straits, but took the large city of Pelusium, and made the garrison prisoners. By this operation he at once opened a secure pas- sage for the army, and a fair prospect of victory for their general. The same love of glory which was so serviceable to his own party, was, on this occasion, advantageous to the enemy. For when Ptolemy entered Pelusium, in the rage of revenge, he would have put the citizens to death, but Antony resolutely opposed it, and pre- vented him from executing his horrid purpose. In the several actions where he was concerned, he gave distinguished proofs of his conduct and valor, but especially in that maneuver where, by wheeling about and attacking the enemy in the rear, he enabled those who charged in front to gain a complete victory. For this action he re- ceived suitable honors and rewards. His humane care of the body of Archelaus, who fell in the battle, was taken notice of even by the common men. He had been his intimate friend, and connected with him in the rights of hospitality; and though he was obliged, by his duty, to oppose him in the field, he no sooner heard that he was fallen, than he ordered search to be made for his body, and interred it with regal magnificence. This conduct made him respected in Alexandria, and admired by the Romans. Antony had a noble dignity of countenance, a graceful length of beard, a large forehead, an aquiline nose; and, upon the whole, the same manly aspect that we see in the pictures and stat- * Anlus Gabinius was consul in the year of Rome R35; and the year following he went into Syria, t Dion. .. xxxix. ANTONY. 587 ties of Hercules. There was, indeed, an ancient tradition, that his family was descended from Hercules, by a son of his called Auteon; and it was no wonder if Antony sought to confirm this opinion, by affecting to resemble him in his air and in his dress. Thus, when he appeared in public, he wore his vest girt on the hips, a large sword, and over all a coarse mantle. That kind of conduct which would seem disagreeable to others, rendered him the darling of the army. He talked with the soldiers in their own swag- gering and ribald strain eat and drank with them in public, and would stand to take his vic- tuals at their common table. He was pleasant on tiie subject of his amours, ready in assisting the intrigues'of others, and easy under the raillery to which he was subjected by his own. His liberal- ity to the soldiers and to his friends was the first foundation of his advancement, and continued to support him in that power which he was other- wise weakening by a thousand irregularities. One instance of his liberality I must mention: he had ordered two hundred and fifty thousand drachmas (which the Romans call decies) to be given to one of his friends; his steward, who was startled at the extravagance of the sum, laid the silver in a heap, that he might see it as he passed. He saw it, and inquired what it was for; "It is the sum," answered the steward, " that you or- dered for a present." Antony perceived his en- vious design, and. to mortify him still more, said coolly, "I really thought the sum would have made abetter figure. It is too little; let it be doubled."* This, however, was in the latter part of his life. Rome was <iivided into two parties. Pompey was with the senate. The people were for bringing Ceesar with his army out of Gaul. Curio, the friend of Antony, who had changed sides, and joined Caesar, brought Antony likewise over to his interest. The influence he had obtained by his eloquence, and by that profusion of money in which he was supported by Caesar, enabled him to make Antony tribune of the people, and afterward augur. Antony was no sooner in power than Ceesp.r found the advantage of his services. In the first place he opposed the con- sul Marcel lus, whose design was to give Pompey the command of the old legions, and at the same time to empower him to raise new ones. On this occasion he obtained a decree that the forces then on foot should be sent into Syria, and join Bibulus in carrying on the war against the Par- thians; and that none should give in their names to serve under Pompey. On another occasion, when the senate would neither receive Csesar's letters, nor suffer them to be read, he read them by virtue of his tribunitial authority; and the requests of Caesar appearing moderate and rea- sonable, by this means he brougiit over many to his interest. Two questions were at length put in the senate; one, "Whether Pompey should dismiss his army;" the other, " Whether Ceesar should give up his." There were but a few votes for the former, a large majority for the latter. Then Antony stood up, and put the question, "Whether both Caesar and Pompey should not dismiss their armies." This motion was received with great acclamations, and Antony was ap- plauded, and desired to put it to the vote. This being opposed by the consuls, the friends of Cce- sar made other proposals, which seemed by no means unreasonable: But they were overruled by Cato,t and Antony was commanded by Lentul- * The same story is told of Alexander, t Cicero asserts, that Antony was the immediate cause f the civil war; but if he could have laid down his preju- us, the consul, to leave the house. He left them with bitter execrations; and disguising himself like a servant, accompanied only by Quintus Cassius, he hired a carriage, and went immediate- ly to Ceesar. As soon as they arrived, they ex- claimed that nothing was conducted at Rome ac- cording to order or law, that even the tribunes were refused the privilege of speaking, and who- ever would rise in defense of the right, must be expelled, and exposed to personal danger. Csesar, upon this, marched his army into Italy, and hence it was observed by Cicero in his Phil- ippics, that Antony was no less the cause of the civil war in Rome, than Helen had been of the Trojan war.* There is, however, but little truth in this assertion. Csesar was not so much a slave to the impulse of resentment, as to enter on so desperate a measure, if it had not been premedi- tated. Nor would he ha\re carried war into the bowels of his country, merely because he saw Antony and Cassius flying to him in a mean dress and a hired carriage. At the same time, these things might give some color to the com- mencement of those hostilities which had been long determined. Csesar's motive was the same which had before driven Alexander and Cyrus over the ruins of human kind, the insatiable lust of empire, the frantic ambition of being the first man upon earth, which he knew he could not be while Pompey was yet alive. As soon as he wag arrived at Rome, and had driven Pompey out of Italy, his first design was to attack his legions in Spain, and having a fleet in readiness, to go afterward in pursuit of Pom- pey himself, while, in the meantime. Rome was left to the government of Lepidus, the praetor, and Italy and the army to the command of Antony the tribune. Antony, by the sociability of his disposition, soon made himself agreeable to the soldiers; for he eat and drank with them, and made them presents to the utmost of his ability. To others, his conduct was less acceptable. He was too indolent to attend to the cause of the in- jured, too violent and too impatient when he was applied to on business, and infamous for his adul- teries. In short, though there was nothing tyran- nical in the government of Caesar, it was rendered odious by the ill conduct of his friends; and as Antony had the greatest share of the power, so he bore the greatest part of the blame. Caesar, notwithstanding, on his return from Spain, con- nived at his irregularities; and indeed, in the military appointment he had given him, he had not judged improperly; for Antony was a brave, skillful, and active general. Csesar embarked at Brundusium, sailed over the Ionian sea with a small number of troops, and sent back the fleet, with orders that Antony and Gabinius should put the army on board, and pro- ceed as fast as possible to Macedonia. Gabinius was afraid of the sea, for it was winter, and the passage was dangerous. He therefore marched his forces a long way round by land. Antony, on the other hand, being apprehensive that Csesar might be surrounded and overcome by his ene- mies, beat off Libo, who lay at anchor in the moutii of the haven of Brundusium. By sending out several small vessels, he encompassed Libo's galleys separately, and obliged them to retire. By this means he found an opportunity to embark about twenty thousand foot and eight hundred horse; and with these he set sail. The enemy dice, he might have discovered a more immediate cause in the impolitic resentment of Cato. In the second Philippic. Ut Helena Trojams, gtc ist* huic republics: causa belli; causa pcstis atque eztii fuit. 588 PLUTARCH'S LIVES discovered and made up to him; but he escaped by favor of a strong gale from the south, which made the sea so rough that the pursuers could not reach him. The same wind, however, at first drove him upon a rocky shore, on which the sea bore so hard that there appeared no hope of escaping shipwreck; but after a little, it turned to the south-west, and. blowing from laud to the main sea, Antony sailed in safely, with the. satis- faction of seeing the wrecks of the enemy's fleet scattered along the coast. The storm had driven their ships upon the rocks, and many of them went to pieces. Antony made his advantage of this disaster; for he took several prisoners, and a considerable booty. He likewise made himself master of the town of Lissus; and, by the season- able arrival of his reinforcement, the affairs of Ca3sar wore a more promising aspect. Antony distinguished himself in every battle that was fought. Twice he stopped the army in its flight, brought them back to the charge, and gained the victory; so that, in point of military reputation, he was inferior only to Caesar. What opinion Ccesar had of his abilities, appeared in the last decisive battle at Pharsalia: he led the right wing himself, and gave the left to Antony as to the ablest of his officers. After this battle, Caesar being appointed dictator, went in pursuit of Pornpey, and sent Antony to Rome in charac- ter of general of the horse. This officer is next in power to the dictator, and in his absence he commands alone. For, after the election of a dictator, all other magistrates, the tribunes only excepted, are divested of their authority. Dolabella, one of the tribunes, a young man who was fond of innovations, proposed a law for abolishing debts, and solicited his friend Antony, who was ever ready to gratify the people, to join him in this measure. On the other hand, Asinius and Trebellius dissuaded him from it. Antony happened at this time to suspect a criminal con- nection between Dolabella and his wife, whom, on that account, he dismissed, though she was his first cousin, and daughter to Caius Antonius, who had been colleague with Cicero. In consequence of this, he joined Asinius and opposed Dolabella. The latter had taken possession of the forum, with a design to pass his law by force : and Antony being ordered by the senate to repel force with force, attacked him, killed several of his men, and lost some of his own. By this action he forfeited the favor of the peo- ple: but this was not the only thing that rendered him obnoxious; for men of sense and virtue, as Cicero observes, could not but condemn his noc- turnal revels, his enormous extravagance, his scan- dalous lewdness, his sleeping in the day, his walks to carry off the qualms of debauchery, and his entertainments on the marriages of players and buffoons. It is said, that after drinking all night at the wedding of Hippias, the player, he was summoned in the morning upon business to the forum, when, through a little too much repletion, he was unfortunate enough, in the presence of the people, to return part of his evening fare by the way it had entered; and one of his friends re- ceived it in his gown. Sergius, the player, had the greatest interest with him; and Cytheris,* a lady of the same profession, had the management of his heart.- She attended him in his excursions; and her equipage was by no means inferior to his mother's. The people were offended at the pomp of his traveling plate, which was more fit for the ornament of a triumph; at his erecting tents on Cur. Ep. ad Alt. 1. x, cp. 10. the road by groves and rivers, for the most .uxu- rious dinners; at his chariots drawn by lions; and at his lodging his ladies of pleasure and female musicians in the houses of modest and sober peo- ple. This dissatisfaction at the conduct of An- tony could not but be increased by the compara- tive view of Caesar. While the latter was sup- porting the fatigues of a military life, the former was indulging himself in all the dissipation of luxury; and by means of his delegated power in- sulting the citizens. This conduct occasioned a variety of disturb- ances in Rome, and gave the soldiers an opportu- nity to abuse and plunder the people. Therefore, when Csesar returned to Rome, he pardoned Dola- bella; and being created consul, the third time, he took Lepidus, and not Antony, for his colleague. Antony purchased Pompey's house, but, when he was required to make the payment, he expressed himself in very angry terms; and this, he tells us, was the reason why he would not go with Caesar into Africa. His former servfces he thought in- sufficiently repaid. Caesar, however, by his dis- approbation of Antony's conduct, seems to have thrown some restraint on his dissolute manner of life. He now took it into his head to marry, and made choice of Fulvia, the widow of the seditious Clodius, a woman by no means adapted to domes- tic employments, nor even contented with ruling her husband as a private man. Fulvia's ambition was to govern those that governed, and to com- mand the leaders of armies. It was to Fulvia, therefore, that Cleopatra was obliged for teaching Antony due submission to female authority. He had gone through such a course of discipline, as made him perfectly tractable when he came into her hands. He endeavored, however, to amuse the violent spirit of Fulvia by many whimsical and pleasant follies. When Caesar, after his success in Spain, was on his return to Rome, Antony, among others, went to meet him; but a report prevailing that Csesar was killed, and that the enemy was march- ing into Italy, he returned immediately to Rome, and in the disguise of a slave, went to his house by night, pretending that he had letters from An- tony to Fulvia. He was introduced to her with his head muffled up; and before she received the letter, she asked, with impatience, if Antony were well? He presented the letter to her in silence; and, while she was opening it, he threw his arms around her neck and kissed her. We mention this as one instance out of many of his pleas- antries. When Caesar returned from Spain, most of the principal citizens went some days' journey to meet him; but Antony met with the most distin- guished reception, and had the honor to ride with Caesar in the same chariot. After them came Brutus Albinius, and Octavius, the son of Caesar's niece, who was afterward called Augustus Caesar, and for many years was emperor of Home. Caesar being created consul for the fifth time, chose An- tony for his colleague; but as he intended to quit the consulship in favor of Dolabella, \w acquaintea the senate with his resolution. Antony, notwith- standing, opposed this measure, and lo-ided Dola bella with the most flagrant reproaches. Dola- bella did not fail to return the abuse; s*nd Caesar, offended at their indecent behavior, put off the affair until another time. When it was again proposed, Antony insisted that the omens, from the flight of birds, were against the measure.* Thus Caesar was obliged to give up Dolabella, He had this power by virtue of his offir-* -\s augur. ANTONY. 589 who was not a littlo mortified at his disappoint- ment. It appears, however, that Caesar had as little regard for Doiabella as he had for Antony* for when both were accused of designs against him, he said, contemptuously enough, "It is not these fat, sleek fellows I am afraid of, but the pale ami the lean;" by which he meant Brutus and Cassius, who afterward put him to death. Antony, without intending it, gave them a pre- tense for that undertaking. When the Romans were celebrating the Lupercalia, Caesar, in a tri- umphal habit, sat on the rostrum to see the race. On this occasion, many of the young nobility and the magistracy, anointed with oil, and having white thongs in their hands, run about and strike, as in sport, every one they meet. Antony was of the number, but regardless of the ceremonies of the institution, he took a garland of laurel, and wreathing it in a diadem, ran to the rostrum, where, being lifted up by his companions, he would have placed it on the head of Caesar, inti- mating thereby, the conveyance of regal power. Ceesar, however, seemed to decline the offer, and was, therefore, applauded by the people. Antony persisted in his design; and for some time there was a contest between them, while he that offered the diadem had the applause of his friends, and he that refused it, the acclamations of the multitude. Thus, what is singular enough, while the Romans endured everything that regal power could im- pose, they dreaded the name of king, as destruc- tive of their liberty. Csesar was much concerned at this transaction; and, uncovering his neck, he offered his life to any one that would take it. At length the diadem was placed on one of his statues, but the tribunes took it off;* upon which the peo- ple followed them home with great acclamations. Afterward, however, Caesar showed that he re- sented this, by turning those tribunes out of office. The enterprise of Brutus and Cassius derived strength and encouragement from these circum- stances. To the rest of their friends, whom they had selected for the purpose, they wanted to draw over Antony. Trebonius only objected to him; he informed them that in their journey to meet Csesar, he had been generally with him; that he had sounded him on this business by hints, which, though cautious, were intelligible; and that he always expressed his disapprobation, though he never betrayed the secret. Upon this, it was pro- posed, that Antony should fall at the same time with Caesar; but Brutus opposed it. An action, undertaken in support of justice and the laws, he very properly thought, should have nothing un- just attending it. Of Antony, however, they were afraid, both in respect of his personal valor, and the influence of his office; and it was agreed, that when Caesar was in the house, and they were on the point of executing their purpose, Antony should be amused without by some pretended dis- course of business. When, in consequence of these measures, Cae- ear was slain, Antony absconded in the disguise of a slave; but after he found that the conspira- tors were assembled in the Capitol and had no further designs of massacre, he invited them to corne down, and sent his son to them as a hos- tage. That night Cassius supped with him, and Brutus with Lepidus. The day following, he as- sembled the senate, when he proposed that an act of amnesty should be passed; and that provinces * Tribuni plebis, Epidius Marcellus, cxsetiusque Flavus corona fate lam detrahi, homincmque duci in vincula jus- sif.nent, dolcns seu parum prospers motam rcgni mcntimem, five, ut ferebat, ercptam sibi gloriam recusandi tribunos grttcitei iucrepitos potcstate privavit, Suft. hould be assigned to Brutus and Cassius. The senate confirmed this, and, at the same time, rati- fied the acts of Ceesar. Thus Antony acquitted limself in this difficult affair with the highest reputation; and, by saving Rome from a civil war, he proved himself a^very able and valuable politician. But the intoxication of glory drew iiiin off from these wise and moderate counsels; ind, from his influence with the people, he felt that if Brutus were borne down, he should be the first man in Rome. With this view, when Cae- sar's body was exposed in the forum, he undertook the customary funeral oration; and when he found the people affected with his encomiums on the deceased, he endeavored still more to ex- cite their compassion, by all that was pitiable or aggravating in the massacre. For this purpose, in the close of his oration, he took the robe from the dead body, and held it up to them, bloody as it was, and pierced through with weapons; nor did he hesitate, at the same time, to call the perpetra- tors of the deed villains and murderers. This had such an effect upon the people, that they imme- diately tore up the benches and the tables in the forum to make a pile for the body. After they had duly discharged the funeral rites, they snatched the burning brands from the pile, and went to at- tack the houses of the conspirators. Brutus and his party now left the city, and Caesar's friends joined Antony. Calphurnia, the relict of Caesar, intrusted him with her treasure, which amounted to four thousand talents. All Caesar's papers, which contained a particular ac- count of his designs, were likewise delivered up to him. Of these he made a very ingenious use; for, by inserting in them what names he thought proper, he made some of his friends magistrates, and others senators; some he recalled from exile, and others he dismissed from prison, on pretense that all these things were so ordered by Caesar. The people that were thus favored, the Romans called Charonites;* because, to support their title, they had recourse to the registers of the dead. The power of Antony, in short, was absolute: he was consul himself, his brother Gains was prae- tor, and his brother Lucius tribune of the peo- ple. Such was the state of affairs when Octavius, who was the son of Caesar's niece, and appointed his heir by will, arrived at Rome from Appollo- nia, where he resided when his uncle was killed. He first visited Antony, as the friend of his uncle, and spoke to him concerning the money in his hands, and the legacy of seventy-five drachmas left to every Roman citizen. Antony paid little regard to him at first; and told him, it would be madness for an inexperienced young man, with- out friends, to take upon him so important an office as that of being executor to Caesar. Octavius, however, was not thus repulsed: he still insisted on the money; and Antony, on the other hand, did everything to mortify and affront him. He opposed him in his application for the tribuneship; and when he made use of the golden chair, which had been granted by the senate to his uncle,t he threatened, that, unless he desisted to solicit the people, he would commit him to prison. But when Octavius joined Cicero and the rest of Antony's enemies, and, by their means, obtained an interest in the senate: when he con- tinued to pay his court to the people, and drew * The slaves, who were enfranchised by the last will of their masters, were likewise called Cliaronites. tThe senate had decreed to Caesar the privilege of using a golden chuir, adorned with a crown of gold and precious stones, in all the theaters. Dion. 1. xliv. 590 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. the ve'eran soldiers from their quarters, Antony thought it was time to accommodate; and for this purpose gave him a meeting in the Cap- itol. An accommodation took place, but it was soon destroyed; for that night Antony dreamed that his right hand was thunderstruck: and, in a few days after, he was informed that Octavius had a d -sign on his life. The latter would have jus- tified himself, but was not believed; so that, of course, the breach became as wide as ever. They now went immediately over Italy, and endeavored to be beforehand with each other, in securing', bv rewards and promises, the old troops that were in different quarters, and such legions as were still on foot. Cicero, who had then considerable influence in the city, incensed the people against Antony, and prevailed on the senate to declare him a public enemy; to send the rods and the rest of the prae- torial ensigns to young Ca3sar, and to commission Hirtius and Pansa, the consuls, to drive Antony out of Italy. The two armies engaged near Mo- dena; and Caesar was present at the battle. Both the consuls were slain; but Antony was defeated; ill his flight he was reduced to great extremities, particularly by famine. Distress, however, was to him a school of moral improvement; and Anto- ny, in adversity, was almost a man of virtue. Indeed, it is common for men under misfortunes, to have a clear idea of their duty; but a change of conduct is not always the consequence. On such occasions, they too often fall back into their former manners, through the inactivity of reason, and infirmity of mind. But Antony was even a pattern for his soldiers. From all the varieties of luxurious living, he came with readiness to drink a little stinking water, and to feed on the wild fruits and roots of the desert. Nay, it is said that they ate the very bark of the trees; and that, in passing the Alps, they fed on creatures that had never been accounted human food. Antony's design was to join Lepidus, who commanded the army on the other side of the Alps, and he had a reasonable prospect of his friendship, from the good offices he had done him with Julius Caesar. When he came within a small distance of him, he encamped; but, receiv- ing no encouragement, he resolved to hazard all upon a single cast. His hair was uncombed, and his beard, which he had not shaven since his de- feat, was long. In this forlorn figure, with a mourning mantle thrown over him, he came to the camp of Lepidus, and addressed himself to the soldiers. While some were affected with his appearance, and others with his eloquence, Lepi- dus, afraid of the consequence, ordered the trum- pets to sound, that he might no longer be heard. This, however, contributed to highten the com- passion of the soldiers; so that they sent Laelius and Clodins in the dress of those ladies who hired out their favors to the army, to assure Antony that if he had resolution enough to attack the camp of Lepidus, he would meet with many, who were not only ready to receive him, but if he should desire it, to kill Lepidus. Antony would not suffer any violence to be offered to Lepidus; but the day following, at the head of his troops, he crossed the river which lay between the two camps, and had the satisfaction to see Lepidus's soldiers all the while stretching out their hands to him, and making way through the intrench- in en ts. When he had possessed himself of the camp of Lepidus, he treated him with great humanity. He saluted him by the name of father; and though, in reality, everything was in his own power, he secured to him the title and the honors of general. This conduct brought over Munatins PUncus, who was at the head of a considerable force at no groat distance. Thus Antony was once more very powerful, and returned into Italy with seventeen entire legions of foot, and ten thousand horse. Besid^ these, he left six legions as a garrison in Gaul, under the command of Varius, one of his convivial companions, whom they called Cotylon.* Octavius, when he found (hat Cicero's object was to restore the liberties of the common wealth, soon abandoned him, and cam * to an accommo- dation with Antony. They p. tt together with Lepidus, in a small river-island,' where the con- ference lasted three days. Tl empire of the world was divided among them like a paternal inheritance; and this they found uo difficulty in settling. But whom they should i \H, and whom they should spare, it was not so e vy to adjust, while each was for saving his respe Ove friends, and putting to death his enemies. At length their resentment against the latter ove !ime their kindness for the former. Octavius ga>, ^ up Ci- cero to Antony; and Antony sacrificed is uncle Lucius Caesar to Octavius; while Lepidm had the privilege of putting to death his own brother Paul us. Though others say, that Lepiduy gave up Paul us to them.,$ though they had required him to put him to death himself. I believe there never was anything so atrocious, and so execrably sav- age as this commerce of murder; for while a friend was given up for an enemy received, the same action murdered at once the friend and the enemy; and the destruction of the former was still more horrible, because it had not even re- sentment for its apology. When this confederacy had taken place, th army desired it might be confirmed by some alii- ance: and Cassar, therefore, was to marry Clau- dia, the daughter of Fulvia, Antony's wife. As soon as this was determined, they marked down such as they intended to put to death; the num- ber of which amounted to three hundred. When Cicero was slain, Antony ordered his head, and the hand with which he wrote his Philippics, to be cut off; and when they were presented him, he laughed and exulted at the sight. After he was satiated with looking upon them, he ordered them to be placed on the rostra in the forum, But this insult on the dead was, in fact, an abuse of his own good fortune, and of the power it had placed in his hands. When his uncle Lucius Caesar was pursued by his murderers, he fled for refuge to his sister; and when the pursuers had broken into the house, and were forcing their way into his chamber, she placed herself at tha door, and, stretching forth her hands, she cried, " You shall not kill Lucius Caesar, until yon have first killed me, the mother of your general." Bj this means, she saved her brother. This triumvirate was very odious to the Ro- mans; but Antony bore the greater blame; for he was not only older than Caesar, and more powerful than Lepidus, but, when he was no longer under difficulties, he fell bacli into tht * From a half pint bumper; a Greek measure so called. tin the Rhine, not far from Bologna. i'JThe former English translator ought not to have omil ted this, because it somewhat softens at. least the charao ter of Lepidns, who was certainly the least execrable viV lain of the three. Were there any circumstance in Antony's life that could be esteemed an instance of true magnanimity, th total want of that virtue in this case would prove that such a circumstance was merely accidental. ANTONY. 591 forrner irregularities of his life. His abandoned and dissolute manners were the more obnoxious to the people by his living in the house of Pom- pey the Great, a man no less distinguished by his temperance and modesty, than by the honor of three triumphs. They were mortified to see these doors shut with insolence against magis- trates, generals, and ambassadors; while they were open to players, jugglers, and sottish syco- phants, on whom he spent the greatest part of those treasures he had amassed by rapine. In- deed, the triumvirate were by no means scrupu- lous about the manner in which they procured their wealth. They seized and sold the estates of those who had been proscribed, and, by false accusations, defrauded their widows and orphans. They burdened the people with insupportable im- positions, and being informed that large sums of money, the property both of strangers and citi- tens, were deposited in the hands of the vestals, they took them away by violence. When CiBsar found that Antony's covetousness was as bound- less as his prodigality, he demanded a division of the treasure. The army too was divided. An- tony and Caesar went into Macedonia against Brutus and Cassius; and the government of Rome was left to Lepidus. When they had encamped in sight of the ene- my, Antony, opposite to Cassius, and Caesar to Brutus, Caesar effected nothing extraordinary, but Antony's efforts were still successful. In the first engagement Caesar was defeated by Brutus; his camp was taken; and he narrowly escaped by flight, though, in his Commentaries, he tells us, that, on account of a dream which happened to one of his friends, he had withdrawn before the battle.* Cassius was defeated by Antony; and yet there are those, too, who say, that Antony was not present at the battle, but only joined in the pursuit afterward. As Cassius knew nothing of the success of Brutus, he was killed at his own eari.est entreaty, by his freed man, Pindarus. An- other battle was fought soon after, in which Bru- tus was defeated; and, in consequence of that slew himself. Caesar happened, at that time to be sick, and the honor of this victory, likewise, of course fell to Antony. As he stood over the body of Brutus, he slightly reproached him for the death of his brother Caius, whom, in revenge for the death of Cicero, Brutus had slain in Macedonia. It appeared, however, that Antony did not impute the deatli of Caius so much to Brutus as to Hor- tensius; for he ordered the latter to be slain upon which he made considerable presents. The Me- jjarensians, vying with the Athenians in exhib- iting something curious, invited him to see their senate-house, and when they asked him how he liked it; he told them it was little and ruinous, He took the dimensions of the temple of Apollo Pythius, as if lie had intended to repair it; and, indeed, he promised as much to the senate. B, tit when, leaving Lucius Censorinus in Greece, lie once more passed into Asia; when he had en- riched himself with the wealth of the country; when his house was the resort of obsequious kings, and queens contended for his favor by their beauty and munificence; then, while Caesar was harassed with seditions at Rome, Antony once more gave up his soul to luxury, and fell into all the dissipations of his former life. The Anaxenors and the Zuthi, the harpers and pipers, Metrodorus, the dancer, the whole corps of the Asiatic drama, who far outdid in buffoonery the poor wretches of Italy; these were the people of the court, the folks that carried all before them. In short, all was riot and disorder, and Asia, in some measure, resembled the city mentioned by Sophocles,* that was once filled with the perfumes of sacrifices, songs and groans. When Antony entered Ephesus, the women in the dress of Bacchanals, and men and boys, hab- ited like Pan, and the satyrs, marched before him. Nothing was to be seen through the whole city but ivy crowns, and spears wreathed with ivy. harps, flutes, and pipes, while Antony was hailed by the name of Bacchus. - " Bacchus! ever kind and free!" And such indeed he was to some; but to others he was savage and severe. He deprived many noble families of their fortunes, and bestowed them on sycophants and parasites. Many were repre- sented to be dead, who were still living; and com- missions were given to his knaves for seizing their estates. He gave his cook the estate of a Magne- sian citizen, lor dressing one supper to his taste: but when he laid a double impost on Asia, Hy- brias, the agent for the people, told him, with a pleasantry that was agreeable to his humor, that " If he doubled the taxes, he ought to double the seasons too, and supply the people with two sum- mers and two winters." He added, at the same time, with a little asperity, that, " As Asia had already raised two hundred thousand talents, if he had not received it, he should demand it of those who had; but," said he, "if you received it and his brother's tornb. He threw his purple robe i yet have it not, we are undone." This touched over the body of Brutus, and ordered one of his I him sensibly; for he was ignorant of many things freedmen to do the honors of his funeral. When I that were transacted under his authority; not that he was afterward informed that he had not burned ! he was indolent, but unsuspecting. He had a the robe with the body, and that he had retained I simplicity in his nature without much penetration- part of the money which was to be expended on the ceremony, he commanded him to be slain But when he found that faults had been commit- ted, he expressed the greatest concern and ac- After this victory Ceesar was conveyed to Rome; knowledgment to the sufferers. He was prodigal and it was expected that his distemper would put j in his rewards, and severe in his punishments; an end to his life. Antony having traversed some I but the excess was rather in the former than in the of the provinces of Asia for the purpose of raising j latter. The insulting raillery of his conversation money, passed with a large army into Greece, carried its remedy along with it, for he was per- Contributions, indeed, were absolutely necessary,' fectly liberal in allowing the retort, and gave and when a gratuity of five thousand drachmas had i took with the same good humor. This, however, been promised to every private man. j had a bad effect on his affairs. He imagined that Antony's >ehavior was at first very acceptable to | those who treated him with freedom in conversa- the Grecians He attended the disputes of their logicians, their public diversions, and religiuus ceremonies. He was mild in the administration of justice, and affected to be called the friend of Greece; but particularly the friend of Athens, to 'See the life of Brutus. tion would not be insincere in business. He did not perceive that his sycophants were artful in their freedom; that they used it as a kind of poig- nant sauce to prevent the satiety of flattery; and that, by taking these liberties with him at table, Sophocle*. (Ed. Sc. 1. 592 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. they knew well, that when they complied with his opinions in business, be would not think it the effect of complaisance, but a conviction of his superior judgment. Such Wiis the trail, the flexible Antony, when the j love of Cleopatra came into the completion of his I ruin. This awakened every dormant vice, in- flamed every guilty passion, and totally extin- guished the gleams of remaining virtue. It began in this manner: when he first set out on his ex- pedition against the Parthians, he sent orders to Cleopatra to meet him in Cilicia, that she might answer some accusations which had been laid against her of assisting Cassius in the \7ar. Del- lius, who went on this message, no sooner ob- served the beauty and address of Cleopatra, than he concluded that such a woman, far from having anything to apprehend from the resentment of Antony, would certainly have great influence over him. He therefore paid his court to the amiable Egyptian, and solicited her to go, as Homer says, "in her best athre,"* into Cilicia; assuring her that she had nothing to fear from Antony, who was the most courtly general in the world. In- duced by this invitation, and in the confidence of that beauty which had before touched the hearts of Csesar and young Pompey, she entertained no doubt of the conquest of Antony. When Ca3sar and Pompey had her favors, she was young and inexperienced; but she was to meet Antony at an age when beauty, in its full perfection, called in the maturity of the understanding to its aid. Prepared, therefore, with such treasures, orna- ments and presents, as were suitable to the dignity and affluence of her kingdom, but chiefly relying on her personal charms, she set off for Cilicia. Though she had received many pressing letters of invitation from Antony and his friends, she held him in such contempt that she by no means took the most expeditious method of traveling. 'She sailed along the river Cydnus in a most mag- nificent galley. The stern was covered with gold, the sails were of purple, and the oars were silver. These, in their motion, kept time to the music of flutes, and pipes, and harps. The queen, in the dress and character of Venus, lay under a canopy embroidered with gold, of the most exquisite work- manship, while boys, like painted Cupids, stood fanning her on each side of the sofa. Her maids were of the most distinguished beauty, and, habited like the Nereids and the Graces, assisted in the steerage and conduct of the vessel. The fragrance of burning incense was diffused along the shores, which were covered with multitudes of people. Some followed the procession, and such numbers went down from the city to see it, that Antony was at last left alone on the tribunal. A rumor was soon spread that Venus was come to feast with Bacchus, for the benefit of Asia. Antony sent to invite her to supper; but she thought it his duty to wuit upon her, and to show his polite- ness on her arrival he complied. He was aston- ished at the magnificence of the preparations; but particularly at that multitude of lights, which were raised or let down together, and disposed in such a variety of square and circular figures, that tiiey afforded one of the most pleasing spectacles that has been recorded in history. The day fol- lowing, Antony invited her to sup with him, and was ambitious to outdo her in the elegance and magnificence of the entertainment. But he was toon convinced that he came short of her in both, * Horn. II. xiv. 1. 162. It is thus that Jnno proposes to meet Jupiter, when she has a particular design of insoirinff him with love. and was the first to ridicule the meanness and vulgarity of his treat. As she found that Antony's humor savored more of the camp than of the court, she fell into the same coarse vein, and played upon him without the least reserve. Such was the variety of her powers in conversation: her beauty, it is said, was neither astonishing nor in- imitable; but it derived a force from her wit, and her fascinating manner, which was absolutely irre- sistible. Her voice was delightfully melodious, and had the same variety of modulation as an in- strument of many strings. She spoke most lan- guages; and there were but few of the foreign ambassadors whom she answered by an interpre- ter. She gave audience herself to the Ethiopians, the Troglodites, the Hebrews, Arabs, Syrians, Medes, and Parthians. Nor were these all the languages she understood, though the kings of Egypt, her predecessors, could hardly ever attain to the Egyptian; and some of them forgot even their original Macedonian. Antony was so wholly engrossed with her charms that while his wife Fulvia was maintain- ing his interest at Rome against Caesar, and the Parthian forces, assembled under the conduct of Labienus in Mesopotamia, were ready to enter Syria, she led her amorous captive in triumph to Alexandria. There the veteran warrior fell into every idle excess of puerile amusement, and offered at the shrine of luxury, what Antipho calls the greatest of all sacrifices, the sacrifice of time. This mode of life they called the inim~ Hable. They visited each other alternately every day, and the profusion of their entertainments ia almost incredible. Philotas, a physician of Am- phissa, who was at that time pursuing his studies in Alexandria, told my grandfather Lamprias, that being acquainted with one of Antony's cooks, he was invited to see the preparations for supper. When he came into the kitchen, beside an infinite variety of other provisions, he observed eight wild boars roasting whole; and expressed his surprise at the number of the company for whom this enormous provision must have been made. The cook laughed, and said, that the company did not exceed twelve: but that, as every dish was to be roasted to a single turn, and as Antony was uncertain as to the time when he would sup, par- ticularly if an extraordinary bottle, or an extra- ordinary vein of conversation was going round, it was necessary to have a succession of suppers. Philotas added, that being afterward in the service of Antony's eldest son by Fulvia, he was admitted to sup with him, when he did not sup with his father: and it once happened that, when another physician at table had tired the company with his noise and impertinence, he silenced him with the following sophism : There are some degrees of a fever in which cold water is good for a man: every man, who has a fever, has it in some degree} and, therefore, cold water is good for every man in a fever. The impertinent was struck dumb with this syllogism; and Antony's son, who laughed at his distress, to reward Philotas for his good offices, pointing to a magnificent sideboard of plate, said, " All that, Philotas, is yours!" Philo- tas acknowledged the kind offer; but thought it too much for such a boy to give. And, afterward, when a servant brought the plate to him in a chest, that he might put his seal upon it, he refused, and indeed, was afraid to accept it; upon which the servant said, " What are you afraid of? Do not you consider that this is a present from the son of Antony, who could easily give you its weight in gold? However, I would recommend it to you to take the value of it in money. In this plat* ANTONY. 593 lhre may be some curious pieces of ancient work- manship that. Antony may set a value on." Such are the anecdotes which my grandfather told me he had from Philotas. Cleopatra was not limited to Plato's four kinds of flattery.* She. had an infinite variety of it. Whether Antony were iu the gay or the serious humor, still she had something ready for his amusement. She was with him night and day; she gamed, she drank, she hunted, she reviewed with him. In his night rambles, when he was reconnoitering the doors and windows of the citi- zens, and throwing out his jests upon them, she attended him in the habit of a servant, which he also on such occasions, affected to wear. From these expeditions, he frequently returned a suffer- er both in person and character. But though some of the Alexandrians were displeased with this whimsical humor, others enjoyed it, and said, " That Antony presented his comic parts in Alexandria, and reserved the tragic for Rome." To mention all his follies would be too trifling; but his fishing story must not be omitted. He was a fishing one day with Cleopatra, and had ill success, which, in the presence of his mis- tress, he looked upon as a disgrace; he, therefore, ordered one of his assistanty to dive and put on his hook such as had been taken before. This scheme he put in practice three or four times, and Cleopatra perceived it. She affected, how- ever, to be surprised at his success; expressed her wonder to the people about her; and, the day following, invited them to see fresh proofs of it. When the day following came, the vessel was crowded with people; and as soon as Antony had let down his line, she ordered one of her divers immediately to put a salt fish on his hook. When Antony found he had caught his fish, he drew up his line; and this, as may be supposed, occa- sioned no small mirth among the spectators. ** Go, general!" said Cleopatra, " leave fishing to us petty princes of Pharos and Canopus; your game is cities, kingdoms, and provinces.''^ In th& midst of these scenes of festivity and dissipation, Antony received two unfavorable messages: one from Rome, that his wife Ful- via, and his brother Lucius, after long dissensions between themselves, had joined to oppose Caesar, but were overpowered, and obliged to fly out of Italy. The other informed him, that Labienus and the Parthians had reduced Asia and Syria and the Euphrates to Lydia and Ionia. It was with difficulty that even this roused him from his lethargy: but waking at length, and literally waking from a fit of intoxication, he set out against the Parthians, and proceeded as far as Phoenicia. However, upon the receipt of some very moving letters from Fulvia, he turned his course toward Italy with two hundred ships. Such of his friends as had fled from thence, he received; and from these he learned, that Fulvia had been the principal cause of the disturbances in Rome. Her disposition had a natural tenden- cy to violence and discord; and, on this occasion, it was abetted by jealousy; for she expected that the disorders of Italy would call Antony from the arms of Cleopatra. That unhappy woman died at Sicyon, in her progress to meet her hus- band. This event opened an opportunity for a recon- Plato, Gorgius. t This Expression of Cleopatra's has something of the une turn with that passage in Virgil Excudentalii spirantia rnollius aera! Tn tegere imperio populos, Romane, memento. 38 ciliation with Caesar. For when Antony came to Italy, and Ccesar expressed no resentment against him, but threw the whole blame on Fulvia; their respective friends interfered, and brought them to an accommodation. The east, within the boun- daries of the Ionian sea, was given to Antony; the western provinces to Caesar; and Lepidus had Africa. When they did not accept of the con- sulship themselves, they were to dispose of it as they thought proper, in their turns. After these matters were settled, they thought of means to secure this union which fortune set on foot. Caesar had a sister older than himself, named Octavia, but they had different mothers. The mother of Octavia was Ancaria. Caesar's mother was Attia. He had a great affection for his sister; for she was a woman of extraordinary merit. She had been already married to Cains Marcellus; but a little before this had buried her husband: and as Antony had lost his wife, there was an opening for a fresh union. His connec- tion with Cleopatra he did not affect to deny; but he absolutely denied that he was married to her; and, in this circumstance, indeed, his prudence prevailed over his love. His marriage with Oc- tavia was universally wished. It was the general hope, that a woman of her beauty and distin- guished virtues would acquire such an influence over Antony, as might, in the end, be salutary to the state. Conditions being mutually agreed upon, they proceeded to solemnize the nuptials at Rome: and the law which permits no widow to marry until the expiration of ten months after the decease of her husband, was dispensed with by the senate. Sextus, the son of Pompey, who was then iu possession of Sicily, had not only made great rav- ages in Italy, but had covered the s?ea with such a number of piratical vessels, under the command of Menas and Menecrates, that it was no longer safe for other ships to pass. He had been favor- able, notwithstanding, to Antony; for he had given a kind reception to his mother and his wife Ful- via, when they were obliged to fly from Rome. It was judged proper, therefore, to accommodate matters with him; and, for this purpose, a meet- ing was held at the promontory of Misenum by the mole that runs into the sea. Pompey was at- tended by his fleet; Antony and Caesar by an ar- my of foot. At this interview it was settled, that Pompey should keep Sicily and Sardinia, on con- dition that he should clear the sea of pirates, and send a certain quantity of corn to Rome. When these things were determined, they mutually invit- ed each other to supper; but it fell to the lot of Pompey to give the first entertainment. When Antony asked him where they should sup: " There," said he, pointing to the admiral-galley of six oars, "that is the only patrimonial mansion house that is left to Pompey: and it implied, at the same time, a sarcasm on Antony, who was then in possession of his father's house. However, he entertained them very politely, after conducting them over a bridge from the promontory to the ship that rode at anchor. During the entertain- ment, while the raillery ran briskly on Antony and Cleopatra, Menas came to Pompey, and told him secretly, that, if he would permit him to cut the cable, he would not only make him master of Sicily and Sardinia, but of the whole Roman Em- pire. Pompey, after a moment's deliberation, answered, that he should have done it without consulting him. "We must now let it alone,** said he, "for I cannot break my oath of treaty." The compliment of the entertainment was re- turned by his guests, and he then retired toSieiiy 594 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Antony, after the accommodation, sent Venti- dius into Asia, to stop the progress of the Parthi- ans. All matters of public administration were conducted with the greatest harmony between him and Octavius; and, in compliment to the lat- ter, he took upon himself the office of high-priest to Cffisar the dictator. But, alas! in their con- tests at play, Ca?sar was generally superior, and Antony was mortified. He had in his house a fortune-telling gipsy? who was skilled in the cal- culation of nativities. This man, either to oblige Cleopatra, or following the investigation of truth, told Antony that the star of his fortune, however glorious in itself, was eclipsed and obscured by Caesar's, and advised him, by all means, to keep at the greatest distance from that young man. " The genius of your life," said he, " is afraid of his: when it is alone, its port is erect and fear- less; when his approaches, it is dejected and de- Indeed, there were many circumstances that seemed to justify the conjurer's doctrine: for in every kind of play, whether they cast lots, or cast the die, Antony was still the loser. In their cock-fights and quail-fights, it was still Ce- sar's cock and Cajsar's quail. These things co- operating with the conjurer's observations, had such an effect on Antony, that he gave up the management of his domestic affairs to Caesar, and left Italy. Octavia, who had by this time brought him a daughter, he took with him into Greece. He wittered in Athens, and there he learned that his affairs in Asia under Ventidius, were successful; that the Parthians were routed, and that Labienus and Pharnapates, the ablest generals of Orodes, fell in the battle. In honor of this victory he gave an entertainment to the Greeks, and treated the Athenians with an exhi- bition of the gymnastic games, in which he took the master's part himself. The robes and ensigns ef the general were laid aside; the rods, the cloak, and the slippers of the Gymnasiarch were assumed; and when the combatants had fought sufficiently, he parted them himself. When he went to the war, he took with him a crown of the sacred olive; and by the direction of some oracle or other, a vessel of water filled out of the Clepsydra.* In the meantime, Pacor- as, son of the king of Parthia, made an incursion into Syria, but was routed by Ventidius in Cyr- rhestica, and with the greatest part of his army, fell in the battle. This celebrated victory made ample amends for the defeat of Crassus. The Parthians had now been thrice conquered, and were confined within the bounds of Media and Mesopotamia. Ventidius would not pursue the Parthians any farther, for fear of exciting the envy of Antony; he, therefore, turned his arms against the revolters, and brought them back to their duty. Among these was Antiochus, the king of Cornmagene, whom he besieged in the city of Samosata. That prince, at first offered to pay a thousand talents, and to submit himself to the Roman empire; upon which Ventidius told him, that he must send proposals to Antony, for he was then at no great distance, and he had not com- missioned Ventidius to make peace with Antio- rhus, that something at least might be done by himself. But while the siege was thus prolong- ed and the people of Samosata despaired of ob- taining terms, that despair produced a degree of courage, which defeated every effort of the be- eiegers; and Antony was at last reduced to the The Clepsydra was a fountain belonging to the citadel t Athens; so called, because it was sometimes full of water and sometimes empty. disgraceful necessity of accepting three hundred alents. After he had done some little toward settling the affairs of Syria, he returned to Athens, and sent Ventidius to Rome, to enjoy the reward of lis merit in a triumph. He was the only general .hat ever triumphed over the Parthians. His jirth was obscure, but his connection with Anto- ly brought him into great appointments: and, >y making the best use of them, he confirmed what was said of Antony and Octavius Caesar, that they were more successful by their lieuten- ants, than when they commanded in person. This observation, with regard to Antony in par- ticular, might be justified by the success of Sos- sius and Canidius. The former had done great things in Syria ; and the latter, whom he eft in Armenia, reduced the whole country; and, after defeating the kings of Iberia and Al- jania, penetrated as far as Mount Caucasus, and spread the terror of Antony's name and powei through those barbarous nations. Soon after this, upon hearing some disagreeable reports concerning the designs or the conduct of Caesar, he sailed for Italy with a fleet of three hundred ships; and, being refused the harbor of Brundusium, he made for Tarentum. There he was prevailed on by his wife Octavia. who ac- companied him, and was then pregnant a third time, to send her to her brother; and she was fortunate enough to meet him on her journey> attended by his two friends, Marcenas and Agrip- In conference with him, she entreated him to consider the peculiarity of her situation, and not to make the happiest woman in the world the nost unfortunate. "The eyes of all," said she, 'are necessarily turned on me, who am the wife of Antony, and the sister of Caesar; and should these chiefs of the empire, misled by hasty coun- sels, involve the whole in war, whatever may be the event, it will be unhappy for rne." Caesar was softened by the entreaties of his sister, and proceeded with peaceable views to Tarentum. His arrival afforded a general satisfaction to the people. They were pleased to see such an army on the shore, and such a fleet in the harbor, in the mutual disposition for peace; and nothing but ompliments and expressions of kindness passing between the generals. Antony first invited Cffi- sar to sup with him, and, in compliment to Octa- via, he accepted the invitation. At length it was agreed, that Caesar should give up to Antony two legions for the Parthian service; and that Antony, in return, should leave a hundred armed galleys with Caesar. Octavia, moreover, engaged Antony to give up twenty light ships to Caesar, and pro- cured from her brother a thousand foot for her husband. Matters being thus accommodated, Cae- sar went to war with Pompey for the recovery of Sicily; and Antony, leaving under his protection his wife and his children, both by the present and the former marriage, sailed for Asia. Upon his approach to Syria, the love of Cleo- patra, which had so long been dormant in hit. heart, and which better counsels seemed totally to have suppressed, revived again, and took pos- session of his soul. The unruly steed, to which Plato* compares certain passions, once more broke loose, and in spite of honor, interest, and prudence, Antony sent Fonteius Capito to conduct Cleopatra into Syria. * Plut;irch here alludes to that passage in Plato, where he compares the soul to a winged chariot, with two horses and a charioteer. One of these horses is mischievous and unruly! the other gentle and tractable. The charioteer is Reason, the unruly horse denotes the concupiscent, and the tractable horse the irascible part. Plato, Phsed. ANTONY, 595 Upon her arrival he made her the most mag- | part of the spring, he should have made himself Aificent presents. He gave her the provinces of I master of Media, before the Parthian troops were Phoenicia, Cselosyria, Cyprus, great part of Cili- I drawn out of garrison; but his impatience put him cia, that district of Jucieea which produces the I upon the march, and leaving Armenia on the left, balm, and that part of Arabia Nabathea which j he passed through the province of Atropatene, lies upon the ocean. These extravagant gifts j and laid waste the country. In his haste, he left were disagreeable to the Romans: for, though he j behind him the battering engines, among which had often conferred on private persons consider- was a ram eighty feet long, and these followed able governments and kingdoms; though he had deprived many princes of their dominions, and beheaded Antigonus of Judaea, the first king that ever suffered in such a manner;* yet nothing so much disturbed the Romans as his enormous profusion in favor of that woman. Nor were they less offended at his giving the surnames of the sun and moon to the twins he had by her. But Antony knew well how to give a fair ap- pearance to the most disreputable actions. The greatness of the Roman empire, he said, appeared more in giving than in receiving kingdoms; and that it was proper for persons of high birth and station to extend and secure their nobility, by leaving children and successors born of different princes; thut his ancestor Hercules trusted not to the fer- tility of one woman; as if he had feared the pen- alties annexed to the law of Solon; but, by various connections with the sex, became the founder of many families. After Orodes was slain by his son Phraates,f who took possession of the kingdom, many of the Parthian chiefs fled to Antony; and among the rest, Monesusj a man of great dignity and power. Antony thinking that Monesus, in his fortune, resembled Themistocles, and comparing his own wealth and magnificence to that of the kings of Persia, gave him three cities, Larissa, Arethusa, and Hierampolis, which was before called Bom- byce. But when Phraates sent Monesus assur- ances of his safety, he readily dismissed him. On this occasion he formed a scheme to deceive Phra- ates: he pretended a disposition for peace, and re- quired only that the Roman standards and ensigns which had been taken at the death of Crassus, and such of the prisoners as still survived, might be restored. He sent Cleopatra into Egypt; after which he inarched through Arabia and Armenia, where, as soon as his own troops were joined by the allies, he reviewed his army. He had several princes in alliance with him, but Artavasdes, king of Armenia, was the most powerful; for he fur- nished six thousand horse, and seven thousand foot. At this review there appeared sixty thou- sand Roman foot, and ten thousand horse, who, though chiefly Gauls and Spaniards, were reckoned as Romans. The number of the allies, including the light-armed and the cavalry, amounted to thirty thousand. This formidable armament, which struck terror into the Indians beyond Bactria, and alarmed all Asia, his attachment to Cleopatra rendered per- fectly useless. His impatience to return and spend the winter in her arms, made him take the field too early in the season, and precipitated all his measures. As a man who is under the power of enchantment, can only act as the impulse of the magic directs him, his eye was continually drawn to Cleopatra, and to return to her was a greater object than to conquer the world. He ought certainly to have wintered in Armenia, that he might give a proper respite and refreshment to his men, after a march of a thousand miles. In the early * Dion tells us, that Antigonns was first tied to a stake and whipped; and that afterward his throat was cut. t The same Phraates that Horace mentions. Rcdditum Cyrt aolio Phraatem. Lib. iii, ode 2. the camp on three hundred carriages; had any damage happened to these, it would have been impossible to repair them in this upper part of Asia, where there is no timber of highl or strength sufficient for the purpose. However, they were brought after him under the conduct of Statianus; and, in the meantime', he laid siege to the large city of Phraata, the residence of the king of Media's wives and children. Here he perceived his error in leaving the engines behind; for want of which he was obliged to throw up a mount against the wall, and that required con- siderable time and labor. In the meantime, Phraates came up with a numerous army, and being informed that Antony had left behind him his machines, he sent a large detachment to intercept them. This party fell upon Statianus, who, with ten thousand of his men, was slain upon the spot. Many were taken prisoners, among whom was king Polemo; and the machines were seized by the enemy and de- stroyed. This miscarriage greatly discouraged the army; and Artavasdes, though he had been the promoter of the war, withdrew his forces in despair. The Parthians, on the other hand, encouraged by their success, came up with the Romans while they were employed in the siege, and treated them with the most insolent menace? and contempt. Antony, who knew that despair and timidity would be the consequence of inaction, led out ten legions, three prajtorian cohorts heavy-armed, and the whole body of cavalry, on the business of foraging. He was persuaded, at the same time, that this was the only method of drawing the enemy after him, and bringing them to a battle. After one day's progress, he observed the enemy in motion, and watched an opportunity to fall upon him in his march. Hereupon he put up in his camp the signal for battle: but, at the same time, struck his tents, as if his intention was not to fight, but to retire. Accordingly he passed the army of the barbarians, which was drawn up in form of a crescent: but he had previously given orders to the horse to charge the enemy, full speed, as soon as their ranks were within reach of the legionary troops. The Parthians were struck with astonishment at the order of the Ro- man army, when they observed them pass at regular intervals without confusion, and brandish their pikes in silence. When the signal was given for battle, the horse turned short, and fell with loud shouts on the enemy. The Parthians received the attack with firmness, though they were too close in with them for the use of their bows. But when the infantry came to the charge, their shouts, and the clashing of their arms, so frightened the enemy's horses, that they were no longer manageable; and the Parthians fled without once engaging. Antony pursued them closely, in hopes that this action would, in a great measure, terminate the war. But when the infantry had followed them fifty furlongs, and the cavalry at least a hundred and fifty, he found that he had not slain above eighty of the enemy, and that thirty only were taken prison- ers. Thus, the little advantage of their victories* and the heavy loss of their defeats, as in the 596 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. recent instance of the carriages, was a fresh dis- couragement to the Romans. The day following they returned with their baggage to the camp before Phraata. In their march they met witli some straggling troops of the enemy, afterward with greater parties, and at last with the whole body, which having easily rallied, appeared like a fresh army, and harassed them in such a manner, that it was with difficul- ty they reached their camp. The Median garrison, in the absence of Antony, had made a sally; and those who were left to de- fend the mount, had quitted their post, and fled. Antony, at his return, punished the fugitives by decimation. That is, he divided them into tens; and, in each division, put one to death, on whom the lot happened to fall. Those that escaped had their allowance in barley instead of wheat. Both parties now found their difficulties in the war. Antony had the dread of famine before him, for he could not forage without a terrible slaughter of his men; and Phraates, who knew the temper of the Parthians, was apprehensive, that, if the Romans persisted in carrying on the siege, as soon as the autumnal equinox was passed, and the winter set in, he should be deserted by his army, which would not at that time endure the open field. To prevent this, he had recourse to stratagem. He ordered his officers not to pursue the Romans too close when they were foraging, but to permit them to carry off provisions. He commanded them, at the same time, to compli- ment them on their valor: and to express his high opinion of the Roman bravery. They were in- structed, likewise, as opportunity might offer, to blame the obstinacy of Antony, which exposed many brave men to the severities of famine and a winter campaign, who must suffer of course not- withstanding all the Parthians could do for them, while Phraates sought for nothing more than peace, though he was still defeated in his benevo- lent intentions. Antony, on these reports, began to conceive hopes; but he would not offer any terms before he was satisfied whether they came originally from the king. The enemy assured him that such were the sentiments of Phraates; and, being induced to believe them, he sent some of his friends to demand the standards and the prisoners that came into their hands on the defeat of Crassus; for he thought, if he demanded nothing, it might appear that he was pleased with the privilege of retreating. The Parthian answered that the standards and prison- ers could not be restored; but that Antony, if he thought proper, was at liberty to retreat in safety. After some few days had been spent in making up the baggage, he began his march. On this occasion, though he had the happiest eloquence in addressing his soldiers, and reconciling them to every situation and event; yet, whether it was through shame, or sorrow, or both, he left that office to Domitius ^Enobarbus. Some of them were offended at this as an act of contempt; but the greater part understood the cause, and, pity- ing their general, paid him still greater attention. Antony had determined to take his route through a plain and open country; but a certain Mardi- an who was well acquainted with the practices of the Parthians, and had approved his faith to the Romans at the battle when the machines were lost, advised him to take the mountains on his right, and not to expose his heavy-armed troops in an open country to the attacks of the Parthian bowmen and cavalry. Phraates, he said, amused him with fair promises, merely to draw him off from the siege; but if he would take him for his guide, he would conduct him by a way that was nearer and better furnished with necessaries. Antony deliberated some time upon this. H would not appear to doubt the honor of the Par- thians, after the truce they had agreed to: and yet, he could not but approve of a way which was nearer, and which lay through an inhabited coun- try. At last, he required the necessary pledges of the Mardian's faith, which he gave in suffer- ing himself to be bound until he should have con- ducted the army into Armenia. In this condi- tion he led the Romans peaceably along for two days: but on the third, when Antony, expecting nothing less than the Parthians, was marching forward in disorderly security, the Mardian, ob- serving the mounds of a river broken down, and the waters let out into the plain where they wero to pass, concluded that the Parthians had done this to retard their march, and advised Antony to be on his guard; for the enemy, he said, was at no great distance. While Antony was drawing up his men, and preparing such of them as were armed with darts and slings to make a sally against the enemy, the Parthians came upon him, and by surrounding his arrny, harassed it on every part. The light-armed Romans, in- deed, made an incursion upon them, and galling them with their missive weapons, obliged them to retreat; but they soon returned to the charge, until a band of the Gaulish cavalry attacked and dispersed them; so that they appeared no more that day. Antony, upon this, found what measures he was to take; and, covering both wings and the rear with such troops as were armed with missive weapons, his army marched in the form of a square. The cavalry had orders to repel the attacks of the enemy, but not to pursue them to any great distance. The Parthians, of course, when in four successive days they could make no considerable impression, and found themselves equally annoyed in their turn, grew more remiss, and, finding an excuse in the winter season, be- gan to think of a retreat. On the fifth day, Fia- vius Gallus, a general officer of great courage and valor, requested Antony, that he would in- dulge him with a number of light-armed troops from the rear, together with a few horse from the front; and with these he proposed to perform some considerable exploit. These he obtained, and in repelling the attacks of the Parthians, he did not, like the rest, retreat by degrees toward the body of the army, but maintained his ground, and fought rather on the offensive than on the defensive. When the officers of the rear observ- ed that he was separated from the rest, they sent to recall him, but he did not obey the summons. It is said, however, that Titius the queestor turn- ed back the standard, and inveighed against Gal- lus for leading so many brave men to destruction. Gallus, on the other hand, returned his reproach- es, and commanding those who were about him to stand, he made his retreat alone. Gallus had no sooner made an impression on the enemy's front than he was surrounded. In this distress he sent for assistance; and here the genera! offi- cers, and Canidius, the favorite of Antony, among the rest, committed a most capital error. Instead of leading the whole army against the Parthians, as soon as one detachment was over- powered, they sent another to its support, and thus, by degrees, they would have sacrificed great part of the troops, had not Antony come hastily from the front with the heavy-armed, and urging on the third legion through the midst of the fugitives, stopped the enemy's pursuit ANTONY. 597 In this action no fewer than three thousand were slain, and five thousand brought back wounded to the camp. Among the last was Gal- ius, who had four arrows shot through his body, and soon after died of his wounds. Antony vis- ited all that had suffered on this unhappy occa- sion, and consoled them with tears of real grief and affection: while the wounded soldiers, em- bracing the hand of their general, entreated him not to attend to their sufferings, but to his own health and quiet: " While our general is safe, all," said they, " is well." It is certain that there Was not in those days a braver or a finer army. The men were tall, stout, able, and willing to en- dure the greatest toils. Their respect and ready obedience to their general was wonderful. Not a man in the army, from the first officer to the meanest soldier, but would have preferred the fa- vor of Antony to his own life and safety. In all these respects they were at least equal to the ar- mies of ancient Rome. A variety of causes, as we have observed, concurred to produce this: Antony's noble birth, his eloquence, his candor, his liberality and magnificence, and the familiar pleasantry of his conversation. These were the general causes of the affection he found in his army; and, on this particular occasion, his sym- pathising with the wounded, and attending to their wants, made them totally forget their suf- ferings. The Parthians, who had before begun to lan- guish in their operations, were so much elevated with this advantage, and held the Romans in such contempt, that they even spent the night by their camp, in hopes of seizing tlie baggage while the) r deserted their tents. At break of day numbers more came up, to the amount, as it is said, of forty thousand horse; for the Parthian king had sent even his body-guard, so confident was he of absolute victory; as to himself, he never was pre- sent at any engagement. Antony, being now to address his soldiers, call- ed for mourning apparel, that his speech might be more affecting; but as his friends would not permit this, he appeared in his general's robe. Those that had been victorious he praised; those who had fled he reproached; the former encour- aged him by every testimony of their zeal; the latter, offering themselves either to decimation or any other kind of punishment that he might think proper to inflict upon them, entreated him to forego his sorrow and concern. Upon this he raised his hands to heaven, and prayed to the gods, " That if his happier fortune was to be fol- lowed by future evil, it might affect only him- self, and that his army might be safe and victori- ous." The day following, he marched out in better order, and the Parthians, who thought they had nothing to do but to plunder, when they saw their enemy in fresh spirits and in a capacity for re- newing the engagement, were extremely discon- certed. However, they fell upon the Romans from the adjacent declivities and galled them with their arrows as they were marching slowly for- ward. Against these attacks the light armed troops were covered by the legionaries, who pla- cing one knee upon the ground, received the ar- rows on their shields. The rank that was behind covered that which was before in a regular gra- dation; so that this curious fortification, which de- fended them from the arrows of the enemy, re- sembled the roof of a house. The Parthians, who thought that the Romans rested on their knees only through weariness and fatigue, threw away their bows, and catno to close engagement with their spears. Upon this the Romans leaped up with a loud shout, cut to pieces those who came first to the attack, and put all the rest to flight. This method of attack and defense being repeated every day, they made but little progress in their march, and were, beside, distressed for want of provisions; they could not forage without fighting; the corn they could get was but little, and even that they had not instru- ments to grind. The greatest part of them had been left behind; for many of their beasts of bur- den were dead, and many were employed in car- rying the sick and wounded. It is said that a bushel of wheat, Attic measure, was sold for fifty drachmas, and a barley loaf for its weight in sil- ver. Those who sought for roots and pot-herbs found few that they had been accustomed to eat, and in tasting unknown herbs, they met with one that brought on madness and death. He that had eaten of it immediately lost all memory and knowledge; but, at the same time, would busy himself in turning and moving every stone he met with, as if he was upon some very impor- tant pursuit. The camp was full of unhappy men bending to the ground, and thus digging up and removing stones, until at last they were car- ried off by a bilious vomiting; when wine,* the only remedy ,f was not to be had. Thus, while nnmbers perished, and the Parthians still continu- ed to harass them, Antony is said frequently to have cried out, " O the ten thousand," alluding to the army that Xenophon led from Babylon both a longer way,:}: and through more numerous conflicts, and yet led in safety. The Parthians, when they found that they could not break through the Roman ranks, nor throw them into disorder, but were frequently beaten in their attacks, began once more to treat their foragers in a peaceable manner. They showed them their bows unstrung, and informed them that they had given up the pursuit, and were going to depart. A few Medes, they said, might continue the route a day or two longer, but they would give the Romans no trouble, as their only purpose was to protect some of the remoter iilages. These professions were accompanied with many kind salutations; insomuch that the Romans conceived fresh hopes and spirits; and, because the way over the mountains was said to be destitute of water, Antony once more was de- sirous of taking his route through the plains. When he was going to put this scheme in execu- tion, one Mithridates, cousin to that Monesus who had formerly sought his protection; and be- ing presented by him with three cities, carne from the enemy's camp, and desired he might be per- mitted to speak with some person that understood the Syrian or the Parthian language. Alexander, of Antioch, a friend of Antony's, went out to him, and after the Parthian had informed him who he was, and attributed his coining to the kindness of Monesus, he asked him, whether he did not see at a great distance before him a range of high hills Under those hills," said he, " the whole Parthi- an army lies in ambuscade for you: for at the foot of the mountains there is a spacious plain, and there, when deluded by their artifices, you have left the way over the hights, they expect to The ancients held wine to be a principal remedy against vomiting. Praterea vomitiones siatit. Plin. Nat. Hist, l.xxiii, c. 1. t It was likewise esteemed good against many kinds of poison. Merum est contra cicutum, aconita ct omnia qitos refrigerant remedium. Ibid. t When Plutarch says that Xenophon led his ten thon- sand a longer way, he must mean to terminate .Aa*\y'i march with Anne"' 508 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. find you. In the mountain roads, indeed, you have thirst and toil to contend with as usual ; but, ' should Antony take the plains, he must expect the fate of Crassus." After he had given this information he depart- ed, and Antony on the occasion assembled a coun- cil, and among the rest his Mardian guide, who concurred with the directions of the Parthian. The way over the plains, he said, was hardly practicable; were there no enemy to contend with, the windings were long and tedious, and difficult to be made out. The rugged way over the mountains, on the contrary, had no other difficul- ty in it than to endure thirst for one day. Anto- ny, therefore, changed his mind, and ordering each man to take water along with him, took the mountain road by night. As there was not a sufficient number of vessels, some conveyed their water in helmets, and others in bladders. The Parthians wore informed of Antony's motions, and, contrary to custom, pursued him in the night. About sunrise they came up with the rear, weary as it was with toil and watching; for that night they had traveled thirty miles. In this condition they had to contend with an unex- pected enemy, and, being at once obliged to fight and continue their march, their thirst became still more insupportable. At last the front came up to a river, the water of which was cool and clear, but being salt and acrimonious, it occasioned a pain in the stomach and bowels that had been heated and inflamed with thirst. The Mardian guide had, indeed, forewarned them of this, but the poor fellows rejecting the information that was brought them, drank eagerly of the stream. Antony, running among the ranks, entreated them to forbear but a little. He told them that there was another river at no great distance, the water of which might be drank with safety; and that the way was so extremely rocky and uneven, that t was impossible for the enemy's cavalry to pur- sue. At the same time he sounded a retreat, to call off such as were engaged with the enemy, and gave the signal for pitching their tents, that they might at least have the convenience of shade. While their tents were fixing, and the Parthi- ans, as usual, retiring from the pursuit, Mithri- dates came again, and Alexander being sent out to him, he advised that the Romans, after a little rest, should rise and make for the river, because the Parthians did not propose to carry their pur- suit beyond it. Alexander reported this to An- tony, and Mithridates being presented with as many phials and cups of gold as he could conceal in his garments, once more left the camp. An- tony, while it was yet day, struck his tents, and marched, unmolested by the enemy. But so dreadful a night as followed he had never passed. Those who were known to be possessed of gold or silver were slain and plundered, and the money that was conveyed in the baggage was made a prey of. Last of all, Antony's baggage was seized, and the richest bowls and tables were cut asunder and divided among the plunderers. The greatest terror and distraction ran through the whole army, for it was concluded that the in- roads of the enemy had occasioned this flight and confusion. Antony sent for one of his freedmen, called Rhamnus, and made him swear that he would stab him and cut off his head, whenever lie should command him, that he might neither fall alive into the hands of the enemy, nor be known when dead. While his friends w'ere weep- ing around him, the Mardian guide gave him some ucouragement, by telling him that the river was at hand, as he could perceive by the cool fresh- ness of the air that issued from it, and that, of course, the troubles of his journey would soon be at an end, as the night nearly was. At the same time he was informed that all these disorders had been occasioned by the avarice of the soldiers, and he therefore ordered the signal for encamp- ing, that he might rectify his disordered army. 1 * It was now daylight, and as soon as the troop* were brought to a little order, the Parthians once more began to harass the rear. The signal was therefore given to the light troops to engage, and the heavy-armed received the arrows under a roof of shields as before. The Parthians, however, durst not corne any more to close engagement, and when the front had advanced a little further, the river was in sight. Antony first drew up the cavalry on the bank to carry over the weak and wounded. The combat was now over, and the thirsty could enjoy their water in quiet. At sight of the river the Parthians unstrung their bows, and with the highest encomiums on their bravery, bade their enemies pass over in peace. They did so, and after the necessary refreshments, proceeded on their march, without much confi- dence in the Parthian praise or professions. Within six days from the last battle they arrived at the river Araxes, which divides Media from Armenia. This river, on account of the depth and strength of its current, seemed difficult to pass, and a ru- mor, moreover, ran through the army that the enemy was there in ambuscade, to attack them as they forded it. However they passed over in safety, and when they set foot in Armenia, with the avidity of mariners when they first corne on shore, they kissed the ground in adoration, and embraced each other with a pleasure that could only express itself in tears. The ill consequences of their former extremities, however, discovered themselves even here; for as they now passed through a country of plenty and profusion, their too great indulgences threw them into the dropsy and the colic. Antony, on reviewing his army, found that he had lost twenty thousand foot and four thousand horse, more than half of which had not died in battle, but by sickness. They had been twenty-seven days in their return from Phraatae, and had beaten the Parthians in eighteen engagements; but these victories were by no means complete because they could not prosecute their advantages by pursuit. Hence it is evident that Artavasdes deprived Antony of the fruits of his Parthian expedition; for had be been assisted by the sixteen thousand horse which he took with him out of Media, who were armed like the Irurthians, and accustomed to fight with them, after the Romans had beaten them in set battles, this cavalry might have taken up the pursuit, and harassed them in such a man- ner, that they could not so often have rallied and returned to the charge. All, therefore, were ex- citing Antony to revenge himself on Artavasdes. But he followed better counsels, and in his present weak and indigent condition, he did not think proper to withhold the usual respect and honors * Plutarch does not in this place appear to be sufficiently informed. The cause of this tumult in the army could not be the avarice of the soldiers only, since that might hav operated long before, and at a time when they were capable of enjoying money. Their object now was the preservation of life; and it was not wealth but water that they wanted We must look for the cause of this disorder, then, in soma other circumstance; and that, probably, was the report of their general's despair, or possibly, of his death; for other- wise, they would hardly have plundered his baggage. Th fidelity and affection they had shown him in all their dil tresses, afford a sufficient argument on this behalf. ANTONY. 599 he had paid him. But when he came into | dependents did not fail to reproach his unfeeling Armenia on another occasion, after having drawn him to a meeting by fair promises and invitations, he seized and carried him bound to Alexandria, where he led him in triumphal procession. The Romans were offended at this heart, which could suffer the woman, whose life was wrapped up in his, to die for his sake. Octa- via's marriage, they said, was a mere political con- venience, and it was enough for her that she had triumph and at the honor of being called his wife. Poor Cleopa- Antony, who had thus transferred the principal I tra, though queen of a mighty nation, was called honors of their country to Egypt, for the gratifi- nothing more than his mistress: yet, even with Cation of Cleopatra. These things, however, hap- pened in a later period of Antony's life The severity of the winter and perpetual snows were so destructive to the troops, that in his march, he lost eight thousand men. Accompa- nied by a small party he went down to the sea- coast, and in a fort between Berytus and Sidon, called the White Hair, he waited for Cleopatra. To divert his impatience on her delay, he had re- course to festivity and intoxication; and he would frequently, over his cups, start up from his seat, and run leaping and dancing to look out for her approach. At length she came, and brought with her a large quantity of money and clothing for the army Some, however, have asserted, that she brought nothing but the clothes, and that Antony supplied the money, though he gave her the credit of it. There happened at this time a quarrel between Phraates and the king of the Medes, occasioned, as it is said, by the division of the Roman spoils, and the latter was apprehensive of losing his kingdom. He therefore sent to Antony an offer of his assistance against the Parthians. Antony, who.concluded that he had failed of conquering the Parthians only through want of cavalry and bowmen, and would here seem rather to confer than to receive a favor, determined once more to return to Armenia, and, after joining the king of the Medes, at the river Araxares, to renew the war. Octavia, who was still at Rome, now expressed a desire of visiting Antony, and Caesar gave her his permission, not according to the general opin- ion, merely to oblige her, but that the ill treat- ment and neglect which he concluded she would meet might give him a pretense for renewing the war. When she arrived at Athens, she received letters from Antony, commanding her to continue there, and acquainting her with his new expedi- tion. These letters mortified her, for she sus- pected the expedition to be nothing more than a pretense; however, she wrote to him, and desired he would send his commands where she should leave ihe presents she had brought. These pres- ents consisted of clothing for the army, beasts of burden, money, and gifts for his officers and friends. Beside these, she had brought two thous- and picked men, fully equipped and armed for the general's cohort. Octavia sent this letter by Ni- ger, a friend of Antony's, who did not fail to pay her the compliments she deserved, but repre- sented her to Antony in the most agreeable light. Cleopatra dreaded her rival.* She was appre- hensive that if she came to Antony, the respect- able gravity of her manners, added to the authority and interest of Cresar, would carry off her hus- band. She therefore pretended to be dying for the love of Antony, and to give a color to pretense, she emaciated herself by abstinence. his approach she taught her eye to. express an agreeable surprise, and when he left her, she put on the look of languishment and dejection. Some- times she would endeavor to weep, and then, as if she wished to hide the tears from her tender Antony, she affected to wipe them off unseen. Antony was all this while preparing for his Median expedition, and Cleopatra's- creatures and this, for the sake of his society, she could be content: but of that society, whenever she should be deprived, it would deprive her of life. These in- sinuations so totally unmanned him, that, through fear of Cleopatra's putting an end to her life,, he returned to Egypt, and put off the Mede until summer, though at that time the Parthian affairs were said to be in a seditious and disorderly situ- ation. At length, however, he went into Arme- nia, and after entering into an alliance with the Mede, and betrothing one of Cleopatra's sons to a daughter of his who was very young, returned, that he might attend to the civil waiv When Octavia returned from Athens, Caesar looked upon the treatment she had met with as a mark of the greatest contempt, and he therefore ordered her to retire and live alone. However, she refused to quit her husband's house, and moreover, entreated Caesar, by no means, to have recourse to arms merely on her account. It would be infamous, she said, for the two chiefs of the Roman empire to involve the people in a civil war, one for the love of a woman, and the other out of jealousy. By her own conduct she added weight to her expostulations. She kept up the dignity of Antony's house, and took the same care of his children, as well those that he had by Fulvia as her own, that she could possibly have taken, had he been present. Antony's friends, who were sent to Rome to solicit honors or transact business, she kindly entertained,, and used her best offices with Caesar to obtain what they requested. Yet, even by this conduct she was hurting Antony, contrary to her inclination. H.is injurious treat- ment of such a woman excited a general indigna- tion; and the distribution he had made to his children in Alexandria carried with it something so imperious and so disparaging to the Romans, that it increased that indignation not a little. The manner of doing it was extremely obnoxious. He summoned the people to the pla?,e of public exer- cise, and ordering two golden chairs to be placed on a tribunal of silver, one for himself, and the other for Cleopatra, beside lower seats for the children, he announced her queen of Egypt, Cyprus, Africa, and Coslosyria, and nominated Caesario, her son by Caesar, the dictator, her cqU league. The sons she had by him he entitled kings of kings, and to Alexander he gave Armenia and Media, together with Parthia, when it should be conquered- To Ptolemy he gave Phoenicia, Syria, and Cilicia. At the same time the children made their appearance, Alexander, in a Median dress, with the turban and tiara; and Ptolemy, in the long cloak and slippers, with a bonnet encir- cled by a diadem. The latter was dressed like the successors of Alexander; the former like the Median and Armenian kings. When the children saluted their parents, one was attended by Arme- nian, the other by Macedonian guards. Cleopa- tra, on this, and on other public occasions, wore the sacred robe of Isis,* and affected to give audi- ence to the people in. the character and name of the New Isis. * This robe was of all colors,, to signify the universality of the goddess's iafiueac*. Tbe *obe f Osiris was of oa color only. 600 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Ctesar expatiated on these things in the senate, nd by frequent accusations, incensed the people against Antony. Antony did not tail to recrim- inate by his deputies. In the first place he charged Csesar "with wresting Sicily out of the hands of Pompey, and not dividing it with him. His next charge was, that Cresar had never returned the ships he had borrowed of him; a third, that after redut ing his colleague, Lepidus, to the condition of a pi vate man, he had taken to himself his army, his province, and his tributes; lastly, that he had distributed almost all the lands in Italy among his own soldiers, and had left nothing for his. To these Ccesar made answer that Lepidus was re- duced from an incapacity of sustaining his gov- ernment; that what he had acquired by war, he was ready to divide with Antony, and at the 8,-tine time he expected to share Armenia with him; that his soldiers had no right to lands in Italy, because Media and Armenia, which, by their bravery they had added to the Roman empire, had been allotted to them. Antony being informed of these tilings in Ar- menia, immediately sent Canidius to the sea-coast with sixteen legions. In the meantime, he went to Ephesus, attended by Cleopatra. There he as- sembled his fleet, which consisted of eight hun- dred s,liips of burden, whereof Cleopatra furnished two hundred, beside twenty thousand talents, and provisions for the whole army. Antony, by the advice of Domitius and some other friends, order- ed Cleopatra to return to Egypt, and there to wait the event of the war. But the queen apprehen- sive that a reconciliation might take place, through the mediation of Octavia, by means of large bribes, drew over Canidius to her interest. She prevailed on him to represent to Antony, that it was unreasonable to refuse so powerful an auxil- iary the privilege of being present at the war; that her presence was even necessary to animate and encourage the Egyptians, who made so consider- able a part of his naval force; nor was Cleopatra, in point of abilities, inferior to any of the princes his allies, since she had not only been a long time at the head of a considerable kingdom, but by her in- tercourse with him had learned the administration of the greatest affairs. These, remonstrances, as the Fates had decreed everything for Cffisar, had the desired effect, and they sailed together for Samos, where they indulged in every species of luxury. For at the same time that the kings, governors, states and provinces, between Syria, the Mceotis, Armenia and Lauria,* were com- manded to send their contributions to the war, the whole tribe of players and musicians were ordered to repair to Samos; and while almost the whole world beside was venting its anguish in groans and tears, that island alone was piping and dancing. The several cities sent oxen for sacri- fice, and kings contended in the magnificence of their presents and entertainments; so that it was natural to say, " What kind of figure will these people make in their triumph, when their very preparations for war are so splendid!" When these things were over, he gave Priene for the residence of the players and musicians, and sailed for Athens, where he once more re- newed the farce of public entertainments. Tiie Athenians had treated Octavia, when she was at Athens, with the highest respect; and Cleopatra, jealous of the honors she had received, endeavored * As a mountain of no note in Attica does not seem proper to be mentioned with great kingdoms and provinces, It i* supposed that we ought to read Ill.yria, instead of Lauria. Il!yrir is afterward mentioned as the boundary ** Antony'* dominions on that side. to court the people by every mark of favor. The people in return decreed her public honors, and sent a deputation to wait on her with the decree, At the head of this deputation was Antony him- self, in character of a citizen of Athens, and he was prolocutor on the occasion. In the. meantime, he sent some of his people to turn Octavia out of his house at Rome. When she left it, it is said she took with her all his child- ren (except the eldest by Fulvia, who attended him), and deplored the severity of her fate with tears, under the apprehension that she would be looked upon as one of the causes of the civil war. The Romans pitied her sufferings, but still more the folly of Antony, particularly such as had seen Cleopatra; for she was by no means preferable to Octavia, either on accou nt of her you th or beauty. When Caesar was informed of the celerity and magnificence of Antony's preparations, he was afraid of being forced into the war that summer. This would have been very inconvenient for him, as he was in want of almost everything, and the levies of money occasioned a general dissatisfac- tion. The whole body of the people were taxed one-fourth of their income, and the sons of free- dom one-eighth. This occasioned the greatest clamor and confusion in Italy, and Antony cer- tainly committed a very great oversight in neg- lecting the advantage. By his unaccountable delays he gave Csesar an opportunity both to complete his preparations, and appease the minds of the people. When the money was demanded, they murmured and mutinied; but after it was once paid, they thought of it no longer. Titius and Plancus, men of consular dignity, and Antony's principal friends, being ill-us"ed by Cleopatra, on account of their opposing her stay in the army, abandoned him and went over to Csesar. As they knew the contents of Antony's will, they presently made him acquainted with them. This will was lodged in the hands of the vestals; and when Ca3sar demanded it, they re- fused to send it; adding, that if he was determined to have it, he must come and take it himself. Accordingly he went and took it. First of all he read it over to himself, and remarked such pas- sages as were most liable to censure. Afterward he read it in the senate, and this gave a general offense.* It seemed to the greatest part an ab- surd and unprecedented thing that a man should suffer in his life, for what he had. ordered to be done after his death. Caesar dwelt particularly on the orders he had given concerning his funeral; for in case he died at Rome, he had directed his body to be carried in procession through the Jorum, and afterward conveyed to Alexandria, to Cleo- patra. Calvisius, a retainer of Caesar's, also ac- cused him of having given to Cleopatra the Pergamenian library, which consisted of two hundred thousand volumes; and added that once, when they supped in public, Antony rose and trod on Cleopatra^ foot by way of signal for some rende/ous. He asserted, moreover, that he suf- fered the Ephesians in his presence to call CleO' patra sovereign; and that when he was presiding at the administration of public affairs, attended by several tetrarchs and kings, he received love- letters from her enclosed in onyx and crystal, and there perused them. Beside, when Furniun, a man of great dignity, and one of the ablest of the Roman orators, was speaking in public, Cleopatra was carried through the forum in a litter; upon * This was an act of most injurious violence. Niching could be more sacred than a will deposited in the hai.ls of the vestals. ANTONY. 601 rhich Antony immediately started up, and no longer paying bis attention to the cause, accom- panied her, leaning on the litter as he walked. The veracity of Calvisius, in these accusations, was, nevertheless, suspected. The friends of An- tony solicited the people in his behalf, and dis- patched Geminius, one of their number, to put him on his guard against the abrogation of his power, and his being declared an enemy to the Roman people. Geminius sailed into Greece, and, on his arrival, was suspected by Cleopatra, as ait agent of Octavius's. On this account, he Was contemptuously treated, and the lowest seats assigned him at the public suppers. This, how- ever, he bore for some time with patience, in hopes of obtaining an interview with Antony: but being publicly called upon to declare the cause of his coming, he answered, "That one part of the cause would require to be communi- cated at a sober hour, but the other part could not be mistaken, whether a man were drunk or sober; for it was clear that all things would go well, if Cleopatra retired into Egypt." Antony was ex- tremely chagrined; and Cleopatra said, "You have done very well, Geminius, to confess with- out being put to the torture." Geminius soon after withdrew, and returned to Rome. Many more of Antony's friends were driven off by the creatures of Cleopatra when they could no longer endure their insolence and scurrility. Among the rest were Marcus Silanus, and Delius, the historian. The latter informs us, that Cleopatra had a design upon his life, as he was told by Glau- cus, the physician; because he had once affronted her at supper, by saying, that while Sarrnentus was drinking Falernian at Rome, they were obliged to take up with vinegar. Sarmentus was a boy of Cesar's, one of those creatures whom the Romans call Delicia. When Caesar had made his preparations, it was decreed that war should be declared against Cleo- patra; for that Antony could not be said to pos- sess that power which he had already given up to a woman. Ciesar observed, that he was like a man under enchantment, who has no longer any power over himself. It was not he, with whom they were going to war, but Mardion, the eunuch, and Pothinus; Iris, Cleopatra's woman, and Char- mion; for these had the principal direction of affairs. Several prodigies are said to have hap- pened previous to this war. Pisaururn. a colony of Antony's on the Adriatic, was swallowed up by an earthquake. Antony's statue in Alba, was covered with sweat for many days, which re- turned, though it was frequently wiped off. While he was at Patrae, the temple of Hercules was set on fire by lightning, and at Athens, the statue of Bacchus was carried by a whirlwind from the Gigantotnachia into the theatre. These things concerned Antony the more nearly, as he affected to be a descendant of Hercules, and an imitator of Bacchus, insomuch that he was called the younger Bacchus. The same wind threw down the Colossal statues of Eumenes and Attains, called the Antonii, while the rest were unmoved. And in Cleopatra's royal galley, which was called Antonias, a terrible phenomenon appeared. Some swallows had built their nests in the stern, anc others drove them away, and destroyed their young. Upon the commencement of the war, Antony had no fewer than five hundred armed vessels magnificently adorned, and furnished with eighi or ten banks of oars. He had, however, a hundrec thousand foot, and twelve thousand horse. The auxiliary kings, who fought under his banners were Bocchus, of Africa, Tarcondemus, of the upper Cilicia, Archelaus, of Cappadocia, Philadel- >hus, of Paphlagonia, Mithridates, of Commagene, md Adallas, of Thrace. Those who did not at- end in person, but sent supplies, were Polemo, of Pontus, Malchus, of Arabia, Herod, of Judea, and Amyntas, king of Lycaonia and Galatia. Beside these he had supplies also from the king of the Medes. Caesar had two hundred and fifty men of war, eighty thousand foot, and an equal number of horse with the enemy. Antony's do- minions lay from the Euphrates and Armenia, IP ;he Ionian sea and Illyria: Cesar's extended from [llyria to the western ocean, and from that again to the Tuscan and Sicilian sea. He had likewise all that part of Africa which lies opposite to Italy, ul and Spain, as far as the pillars of Hercules. The rest of the country from Gyrene to Ethiopia, was in the possession of Antony. But such a slave was he to the will of a woman, that though much superior at land, to gratify her, ic put his whole confidence in the navy: not- withstanding that the ships had not half their complement of men, and the officers were obliged to press and pick up iu Greece, vagrants, ass drivers, reapers and boys. Nor could they make up their numbers even with these, but many of the ships were still almost empty. Cresar's ships, which were not high-built or splendidly set off for show, but tight good sailers, well manned and quipped, continued in the harbors of Tarentum and Brundusium. From thence he sent to Anto- ny, desiring he would meet him with his forces, that no time might be lost: offering at the same time to leave the ports and harbors free for his landing, and to withdraw his army a day's jour- ney on horseback, that he might make good his encampment. To this Antony returned a haugh- ty answer, and though he was the older man, challenged Caesar to single combat; or if he should decline this, he might meet him at Pharsalia, and decide it where Caesar and Pompey had done be- fore. Caesar prevented this: for while Antony made for Actium, which is now called Nicopolis, he crossed the Ionian, and seized on Toryne, a place in Epirus. Antony was distressed on find- ing this, because he was without his infantry; but Cleopatra made a jest of it, and asked him if it was so very dreadful a thing that Caesar was got into the Ladle?* Antony, as soon as it was day-light, perceived the enemy making up to him; and fearing that his ill -manned vessels would be unable to stand the attack, he armed the rowers, and placed them on the decks to make a show: with the oars suspend- ed on each side of the vessels, he proceeded in this mock form of battle toward Actium. Coe- sar was deceived by the stratagem, and retired. The water about Caasar's camp was both scarce and bad, and Antony had the address to cut off the little that they had. It was much about this time, that, contrary to the inclination of Cleopatra, he acted so generous a part by Domitius. The latter, even when he had a fever upon him, took a small boat and went over to Caesar: Antony, though he could not but resent this, sent after him his baggage, his friends, and servants; and Domitius, as if it had been for gri<-!' that his treachery was discovered, died very soon after.f Amyntas and Deiotarus likewise went over to Caesar. * In Greek, Toryne. t Plutarch seems to be ill informed about this matter, [i is most probable that Domitius, one of the firn.est friends of Antony, was delirious when he went over to Caesar, and that Antony was sensible of this when he seal his nttendanU 602 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Antony's fleet was so very unsuccessful, and so unfit for service, that he was obliged at last to think of his land forces; and Canidius, who had been retained in the interest of Cleopatra, now changing his mind, thought it necessary that she should be sent away, and that Antony should re- tire into Thrace, and Macedonia to decide it in the field. These places were thought of the rather, because Dieomes, king of the GetaB, had offered to assist Antony with a large army. To give up the sea to Caesar, who, in his Sicilian wars, had acquired so much experience upon it, he said, would be no disgrace; but to give up the advan- tage which so able a general as himself might make of his land forces, and waste the strength of so many legions in useless draughts for the sea service, would be infinitely absurd. Cleopatra, however, prevailed for the decision by sea; though her motive was not the superior chance of victory, but, in case of being vanquished, the better oppor- tunity to escape. There was a neck of land that lay between An- tony's camp and his fleet, along which he used to go frequently from one to the other. Caesar was informed, by a domestic, how easy it might be to seize Antony in this passgae, and he sent a party to lie in wait for that purpose. They were so near carrying their point, that they seized the person who went before Antony, and had they not been too hasty, he must have fallen into their hands, for it was with the greatest difficulty that he made his escape by flight. After it was determined to decide the affair by sea. they set fire to all the Egyptian vessels ex- cept sixty. The best and largest ships, from three banks of oars to ten, were selected, and these had their proper complement of men, for they were supplied with twenty thousand foot and two thou- sand archers. Upon this, a veteran warrior, an ex- perienced officer in the infantry, who had often fought under Antony, and whose body was co- vered with scars, cried, pointing tc those scars, "Why will you, general, distrust these honest wounds, and rest your hopes on those villanous wooden bottoms? Let the Egyptians and the Phoenicians skirmish at sea; but give us at least the land; for there it is we have learned to conquer or to die." Antony made no answer, but seemed to encourage hirn by the motions of his hand and head; though, at the same time, he had no great confidence himself; for when the pilots would have left the sails behind, he ordered them to take them all on board, pretending, indeed, that it should be done to pursue the enemy's flight, not to facili- tate his own. On that and the three following days, the sea ran too high for an engagement; but on the fifth, the weather was fine and the sea calm. Antony and Poplicola led the right wing, Coelius the left, and Marcus Octavius and Marcus Justeius command- ed the center. Caesar had given his left wing to Agrippa, and led the right himself. Antony's land forces were commanded by Canidius, and Cresar's remained quiet on the shore, under the command of Taurus. As to the generals them- selves, Antony was rowed about in a light vessel, ordering his men, on account of the weight of their vessels, to keep their ground and fight as steadily as if they were at land. He ordered his pilots to stand as firm as if they were at anchor, in that position to receive the attacks of the enemy, and by all means, to avoid the disadvantage of the straits. Csesar, when he left his tent before day, after him. It is possible, at the same time, that when he returned to himself, the sense of his desertion might occasion his death. to review his fleet, met a man who was driving an ass. Upon asking his name, the man answered, my name is Eutychus, and the name of my ass is JVicon.* The place where he met him was afterward adorned with trophies of the beaks of ships, and there he placed the statue of the ass and his driver in brass. After having reviewed the whole fleet, and taken his post in the right wing, he attended to the fleet of the enemy, which he was surprised to find steady and motionless as if it lay at anchor. For some time he was of opinion that it was so, and for that reason he kept back his fleet at the distance of eight furlongs. About noon, there was a brisk gale from the sea, and Antony's forces being impatient for the combat, and trusting to the hight and bulk of their vessels, which they thought would render them invincible, put the left wing in motion. Cresar rejoiced at the sight of this, and kept back his right wing, that he might the more effectually draw them out to the open sea, where his light galleys could easily surround the heavy half-manned vessels of the enemy. The attack was not made with any violence or impetuosity: for Antony's ships were too heavy for that kind of rapid impression, which, however, is very necessary for the breach of the enemy's vessel. On the other hand, Ccesar's ships durst neither encounter head to head with Antony's on account of the strength and roughness of their beaks, nor yet attack them on their sides, since, by means of their weight, they would easily have broken their beaks, which were made of large sq uare pieces of timber, fastened to each other with iron cramps. The engagement, therefore, was like a battle at land, rather than a sea-fight, or, more properly, like the storming of a town: for there were generally three or more ships of Csesar'a, about one of Antony's, assaulting it with pikes, javelins, and fire-brands, while Antony's men, out of their wooden towers,f threw weapons of various kinds from engines. Agrippa opened his left wing with a design to surround the enemy, and Poplicola, in his endeavor to prevent him, was separated from the main body, which threw it into disorder, while at the same time it was at- tacked with great vigor by Arruntius.J When things were in this situation, and nothing decisive was yet effected, Cleopatra's sixty ships on a sudden hoisted their sails, and fairly took to flight through the midst of the combatants; for they were placed in the rear of the large vessels, and, by breaking their way through them, they occa- sioned no small confusion. The enemy saw them with astonishment making their way with a fair wind for the Peloponnesus. Antony, on this occa- sion, forgot both the general and the man; and as some author has pleasantly observed, that a lover's soul lives in the body of his mistress, so, as if he had been absolutely incorporated with her, he suffered her to carry him soul and body away. No sooner did he see her vessel hoisting sail, than forgetting every other object, forgetting those brave friends that were shedding their blood in his cause, he took a five-oared galley, and accompan- ied only by Alexander the Syrian, and Scellius, followed her who was the first cause, and now the accomplisher of his ruin. Her own destruction was certain, and he voluntarily involved himself in her fate. When she saw him coming, she put up a signal in her vessel, on which he soon went aboard: nei- * Good Fortune and Victory. t His ships are so called on account of their tallness. j Arruntius must have commanded Caesar's center, th on jk that circumstance is not mentioned. ANTONY. 603 ther of them could look each other in the face, and Antony sat down at the head of the ship, where he remained in sober silence, holding his head between his hands. In the meantime Caesar's light ships, that were in pursuit of Antony, came in sight. Upon this he ordered his pilot to tack about and meet them; but they all declined the engagement and made off, except Euricles the La- cedaemonian, who shook his lance at nim in a menacing manner on the deck. Antony standing at the head of his galley, cried, "Who art thou that thus pursuest Antony?" He answered, "I am Euricles the son of Lachares, and follow the fortunes of Caesar to revenge my father's death." This Lachares Antony hud beheaded for a robbery. Euricles, however, did not attack Antony's vessel, but fell upon the other admiral galley (for there were two of that rank) and by the shock turned her round. He took that vessel and another which contained Antony's most valuable plate and fur- niture. When Euricles was gone, Antony return- ed to the same pensive posture; and continuing thus for three days, during which either through shame or resentment, he refused to see Cleo- patra, he arrived at Tsenarus. There the women who attended them, first brought them to speak to each other, then to dine together, and not long af- ter, as it may be supposed, to sleep together. At last, several of his transports, and some of his friends who had escaped from the defeat, came up with him, and informed him that his fleet was to- tally destroyed, but that his land forces were yet unhurt. Hereupon he sent orders to Canidius im- mediately to march his army through Macedonia into Asia. As for himself he determined to sail from Tasnarus into Africa, and dividing one ship load of treasure among his friends, he desired them to provide for their own safety. They refused the treasure, and expressed their sorrow in tears; while Antony, with the kindest and most humane consolations, entreated them to accept it, and dis- missed them with letters of recommendation to his agent at Corinth, whom he ordered to give them refuge until they could be reconciled to Ca3sar. This agent was Theophilus the father of Hippar- chus, who had great interest with Antony; but was the first of his freedmen that went over to Caesar. He afterward settled at Corinth. In this posture were the affairs of Antony. Af- ter his fleet at Actiuin had long struggled with Cx-sar's, a hard gale, which blew right a-head of the ships, obliged them to give out about four in the afternoon. About five thousand men were slain in the action, and Caesar, according to his own account, took three hundred ships. Antony's flight was observed by few, and to those who had not seen it, it was at first incredible. They could not possibly believe that a general, who had nine- teen legions and twelve thousand horse, a general to whom vicissitude of fortune was nothing new, would so basely desert them. His soldiers had an inexpressible desire to see him, and still expecting that he would appear in some part or other, gave the strongest testimony of their courage and fideli- ty. Nay, when they were even convinced that he was irrecoverably fled, they continued embodied for seven days, and would not listen to the ambassa- dors of C-jesar, At last, however, when Canidius, who commanded them, fled from the camp by night, and when they were abandoned by their principal officers, they surrendered to Caesar. After this great success, Caesar sailed for Athens. The cities of Greece he found in extreme poverty; for they had been plundered of their cattle and everything else before the war. He, therefore, not only admitted them to favor, but made a dis- tribution among them of the remainder of the ' corn which had been provided for the war. My great grandfather, Nicarchus, used to relate, that, as the inhabitants of Chffironea had no horses, they were compelled to carry a certain quantity of corn on their shoulders to the sea-coast as far as Anticyra, and were driven by soldiers with stripes, like so many beasts of burden. This, however, was done but once: for when the corn was meas- ured a second time, and they were preparing to carry it, news came of Antony's defeat, and this saved the city from further hardships; for the commissaries and soldiers immediately took to flight, and left the poor inhabitants to share the corn among themselves. When Antony arrived at Libya, he sent Cleo- patra from Parsetonium into Egypt, and retired to a melancholy desert, where he wandered up and down, with only two attendants. One of these was Aristocrates the Greek rhetorician; the other was Lucilius, concerning whom, it has been men- tioned in another place, that, to favor the escape of Brutus at the battle of Philippi, he assumed his name, and suffered himself to be taken. An- tony saved him, and he was so grateful that he tended him to the last. When Antony was informed that he who com- manded his troops in Libya was gone over to the enemy, he attempted to lay violent hands on him- self ; but he was prevented by his friends, who conveyed him to Alexandria, where he found Cleopatra engaged in a very bold enterprise. Between the Red Sea and the Egyptian, there is an isthmus which divides Asia from Africa, and which, in the narrowest part, is about three hun- dred furlongs in breadth. Cleopatra had formed a design of drawing her galleys over this part into the Red Sea, and purposed with all her wealth and forces to seek some remote country, where she might neither be reduced to slavery, nor involved in war. However, the first galleys that were carried over, being burned by the Ara- bians of Petra,* and Antony not knowing that his land forces were dispersed, she gave up this enterprise, and began to fortify the avenues of her kingdom. Antony in the meantime forsook the city and the society of his friends, and retired to a small house which he had built himself near Pharos, on a mound he had cast up in the sea. In this place, sequestered from all commerce with mankind, he affected to live like Timon, because there was a resemblance in their fortunes. He had been desetted by his friends, and their ingrati- tude had put him out of humor with his own species. This Timon was a citizen of Athens, and lived about the time of the Peloponnesian War, as ap- pears from the comedies of Aristophanes and Plato, in which he is exposed as the hater of man- kind. Yet, though he hated mankind in general, he caressed the bold and impudent boy Alcibia- des, and being asked the reason of this by Ape- mantus, who expressed some surprise at it, he an- swered, it was because he foresaw that he would plague the people of Athens. Apemantus was the only one he admitted to his society, and he was his friend in point of principle. At the feast of sacrifices for the dead, these two dined Ly themselves, and when Apemantus observed that the feast was excellent, Timon answered, "It would be so if you were not here." Once in an assembly of the people, he mounted the rostrum, Dion tells ns, that the vessels which were burned w*r not those which were drawn over the Isthmus, bnt some that had been bailt on that side. Lib. 51. 604 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. and the novelty of the thing occasioned a univer- sal silence and expectation; at length he Raid, " People of Athens, there is a fig tree in my yard, on which many worthy citizens have hang- ed themselves; and as I have determined to build upon the spot, I thought it necessary to give this public notice, that such as choose to have re- course to this tree for the aforesaid purpose may repair to it before it is cut down." He was bu- ried at Halae near the sea, and the water surround- ed his tomb in such a manner, that he was even then inaccessible to mankind. The following ep- itaph is inscribed on his monument: At last, I've bid the knaves farewell; Ask not my name but go to hell. It is said that he wrote this epitaph himself. That which is commonly repeated, was written by Callimachus. My name is Timon: knaves, begone! Curse me, but come not near my stone. These are some of the many anecdotes we have concerning Timon. Canidius himself brought Antony news of the defection of his army. Soon after he heard that Herod of Judea was gone over to Caesar with some legions and cohorts, that several other pow- ers had deserted his interest, and, in short, that he had no foreign assistance to depend upon. None of these things, however, disturbed him; for at once abandoning his hopes and his cares, he left hisTimonian retreat, and returned to Alexandria: where, in the palace of Cleopatra, he once more entertained the citizens with his usual festivity and munificence. He gave the toga virilis to Antyllus, his son by Fulvia, and admitted Cleo- patra's son by Caesar into the order of young men. The entertainments on this occasion were infinitely pompous and magnificent, and lasted many days. Antony and Cleopatra had before established a society called the Inimitable Livers, of which they were members: but they now instituted another by no means inferior in splendor or lux- ury, called The Companions in Death. Their friends were admitted into this, and the time pass- ed in mutual treats and diversions. Cleopatra at the same time was making a collection of pois- onous drugs, and being desirous to know which was the 'least painful in the operation, she tried them on the capital convicts. Such poisons as were quick in their operation she found to be at- tended with violent pain and convulsions; such as were milder were slow in their effect: she, therefore, applied herself to the examination of venomous creatures, and caused different kinds of them to be applied to different persons under her own inspection. These experiments she re- peated daily, and at length she found that the bite of the asp was the most eligible kind of death; for it brought on a gradual kind of lethargy, in which the face was covered with a gentle sweat, and the senses sunk easily into stupefaction: and those who were thus affected showed the same uneasiness at being disturbed or awaked that people do in the profoundest natural sleep.* They both sent ambassadors to Caesar in Asia. Cleopatra requested Egypt for her children, and Antony only petitioned that he might be permit- ted to live as a private man in Egypt, or if that were too much, that he might retire to Athens. Deserted as they were by almost all their friends, and hardly knowing in whom to confide, they were forced to send Euphronius, their children's *Jlspis somniculosa. Sisen. tutor, on this embassy. Alexis of Laodicea, who, by means of Timogenes, became acquainted with Antony at Rome, a man of great skill in the Greek learning, and one of Cleopatra's chief agents in keeping Antony from Octavia, he had before dispatched to Judea to detain Herod in his interest. This man gave up Antony, and relying on Herod's interest, had the confidence to appear before Caesar. The interest of Herod, however, did not save him, for he was immediately carried in chains into his own country, and there put to death. Thus Antony had, at least, the sat- isfaction of seeing him punished for his per- fidy. Caesar absolutely rejected Antony's petition; but he answered Cleopatra, that she might expect every favor from him, provided she either took off Antony, or banished him her dominions. At the same time he sent Thyreus* to her, who was one of his freed men, and whose address was not unlikely to carry his point, particularly as he came from a young conqueror to the court of avain and ambitious queen, who had still the high- est opinion of his personal charms.f As this am- bassador was indulged with audiences longer and more frequent than usual, Antony grew jealous, and having first ordered him to be whipped, he sent him back to Caesar with letters, wherein he informed him, that he had been provoked by the insolence of his freedman at a time when his misfortunes made him but too prone to anger. " However," added he, " you have a freedman of mine, Hipparchus, in your power, and if it will be any satisfaction to you, use him in the same manner." Cleopatra, that she might make some amends for her indiscretion, behaved to him af- terward with great tenderness and respect. She kept her birth day in a manner suitable to their unhappy circumstances; but his was celebrated with such magnificence, that many of the guests who came poor, returned wealthy. After Antony's overthrow, Agrippa wrote sev- eral letters to Caesar, to inform him that his pres- ence wa necessary at Rome. This put off the war for some time; but as soon as the winter was over, Caesar marched against Antony by the route of Syria, and sent his lieutenants on the same business into Africa. When Pelusmm was taken, it was rumored that Seleucus had delivered up the place with the connivance or consent of Cleopatra: whereupon the queen, in order to justify herself, gave up the wife and children of Seleucus into the hands of Antony. Cleopatra had erected near the temple of Isis some monu- ments of extraordinary size and magnificence. To these she removed her treasure, her gold, sil- ver, emeralds, pearls, ebony, ivory, and cinnamon, together with a large quantity of flax, and a num- ber of torches. Caesar was under some appre- hensions about this immense wealth, le^, upon some sudden emergency, she should set fire to the whole. For this reason he was continually send- ing messages to her with assurances of gentle * Dion calls him Thrysus. Antony and Cleopatra sent other ambassadors to Caesar with offers of considerable treasures, and last of all, Antony sent his son Antyllus with large sums of gold. Caesar, with that meannesa which made a part of his character, took the gold, but granted him none of his requests. Fearing, however, that despair might put Antony upon the resolution of carrying the war into Spain or Gaul, or provoke him to burn tha wealth that Cleopatra had been amassing, he sent this Thyreus to Alexandria. t Dion says, that Thyreus was instructed to make use of the softest address, and to insinuate that Cresar wjis captU vated with her beauty. The object of this measure was to prevail on her to take off Antony, while she was fltttereJ with the prospect of obtaining the conqueror. ANTONY. COS and honorable treatment, while in (he meantime lie hastened to the city with his army. When he arrived he encamped near the Hippo- drome; upon which Antony made a brisk sally, routed the cavalry, drove them back into their trenches, and returned to the city with the com- placency of a conqueror. As he was going to the palace he met Cleopatra, whom, armed as he was, he kissed without ceremony, and at the same time he recommended to her favor a brave soldier, who had distinguished himself in the en- gagement. She presented the soldier with a cui- rass and helmet of gold, which he took, and the same night went over to Csesar. After this, An- tony challenged Caesar to fight him in single combat, but Caesar only answered, that Antony might think of many other ways to end his life. Antony, therefore, concluding that he could not die more honorably than in battle, determined to attack Caesar at the same time both by sea and laud. The night preceding the execution of this design, he ordered his servants at supper to ren- der him their best services that evening, and fill the wine round plentifully ; for the day follow- ing they might belong to another master, while he lay extended on the ground, no longer of con- sequence either to them or to himself. His friends were affected, and wept to hear him talk thus; which when he perceived he encouraged them by assurances, that his expectations of a glo- rious victory were at least equal to those of an honorable death. At the dead of night, when universal silence reigned through the city, a silence that was deepened by the awful thought of the ensuing day, on a sudden was heard the sound of musical instruments, and a noise which resembled the acclammations of Bacchanals. This tumultuous procession seemed to pass through the whole city, and go out at the gate which led to the enemy's camp. Those who reflected on this proc'igy, concluded that Bacchus, the god whom Antony affected to imitate, had then for- saken him. As fsoon as it was light, he led his infantry out of the city, and posted them on a rising ground, from whence he saw his fleet advance toward the enemy. There he stood waiting for the event; but as soon as the two fleets met, they hailed ^uch other with their oars in a very friendly man- ner (Antony's fleet making the first advances), und sailed together peaceably toward the city. This was no sooner done than the cavalry de- serted him in the same manner, and surrendered to Caesar. His infantry were routed; and as he retired to the city, he exclaimed that Cleopatra had betrayed him to those with whom he was fighting only for her sake. The unhappy queen, dreading the effects of his anger, fled to her monument, and having se- cured it as much as possible with bars and bolts, she gave orders that Antony should be informed she was dead. Believing the information to be true, he cried, " Antony, why dost thou delay? What is life, to thee, when it is taken from her, for whom alone thou couldst wish to live?" He then went to his chamber, and opening his coat of mail, he said, " I am not distressed, Cleopatra, that thou art gone before me, for I shall soon be with thee: but I grieve to think that I, who have been so distinguished a general, should be inferior in magnanimity to a woman." He was then at- tended by a faithful servant, whose name was Eros. He had engaged this servant to kill him whenever he should think it necessary, and he now demanded that service. Eros drew his sword, as if tie designed to kill him; but, suddenly turning about, he slew himself, and fell at his master's feet! "This, Eros, was greatly done," said An- tony; "thy heart would not permit thee to kill thy master, but thou hast taught him what to do by thy example." He then plunged his sword into his bowels, and threw himself on a couch that stood by. The wound, however, was not so deep as to cause immediate death; and the blood stopping as he lay on the couch, he came to himself, and entreated those who stood by to put him out of his pain. They all fled, nevertheless, and left him to his cries and torments, until Dio- medes, secretary to Cleopatra, came with her request, that he would come to her in the mon- ument. When Antony found that she was still living, it gave him fresh spirits, and he ordered his servants to lake him up. Accordingly they carried him in their arms to the door of the mon- ument. Cleopatra would not suffer the door to be opened, but a cord being let down from a win- dow, Antony was fastened to it, and she, with her two women, all that were admitted into the monument, drew him up. Nothing, as they who were present observed, could possibly be more af- fecting than that spectacle. Antony, covered with blood, and in the agonies of death, hoisted up by the rope, and stretching out his hands to Cleopatra, while he was suspended, for a consid- erable time, in the air! For it was with the greatest difficulty they drew him up, though Cle- opatra herself exerted all her strength, straining every nerve and distorting every feature with the violence of the effort; while those who stood be- low endeavored to animate and encourage her, and seemed to partake in all the toil, and all the emotions that she felt. When she had drawn him up and laid him on a bed, as she stood over him, she rent her clothes, beat and wounded her breast, and wiping the blood from her disfigured countenance, she called him her lord, her emper- or, her husband ! Her soul was absorbed in his misfortunes; and she seemed totally to have for- gotten that she had any miseries of her own. Antony endeavored to soothe her as well as he was able, and called for wine: either because he was thirsty, or because he thought it might soon- er put him out of his pain. When he had drank, he advised her to consult her own affairs and her safety, so far as might be consistent with honor, and to place her confidence in Proculeius, rather than in the other friends of Caesar. " As to him- self," he said, "that she ought rather to rejoice in the remembrance of his past happiness than to bewail his present misfortunes; since in his life he had been illustrious, and was not inglorious in his death. He had conquered like a Roman, and it was only by a Roman that he was conquer- ed." A little before he expired, Proculeius arrived from Caesar: for after Antony had stabbed him- self, and was conveyed to Cleopatra, Dercetaeus, one of his guards, privately carried off his bloody sword, and showed it to Caesar. When Csesar beheld this token of Antony's death, he retired to the inner part of his tent, and shed some tears in remembrance of a man who had been his relation, his colleague in government, and his associate in so many battles and important aff-iirs.* He then called his friends together, and read the letters which had passed between him and Antony, * This retirement of Caesar was certainly an affectation of concern. The death of Antony had been an invariable object with him. He was too cowardly to think himself safe while he lived; and to expose his weakness by read- ing his letters the moment he was informed of his death, was certainly no proof thai he felt even then any tender ness for his memory. 606 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. wherein it appeared that, though Csesar had still written in a rational and equitable manner, the answers of Antony were insolent and contempt- uous. After this he dispatched Proculeius with orders to take Cleopatra alive, if it were possible., for he was extremely solicitous to save the. treas- ures in the monument, which would so greatly add to the glory of his triumph. However, she refused to admit him into the monument, and would only speak to him through the bolted gate. The substance of this conference was, that Cleopatra made a requisition of the king- dom for her children, while Proculeius, ou the other hand, encouraged her to trust everything to Caesar. After he had reconnoitered the place, he sent an account of it to Csesar; upon which Gallus was dispatched to confer with Cleopatra. The thing was thus concerted. Gallus went up to the gate of the monument, and drew Cleopatra into conversation, while, in the meantime, Proculeius applied a ladder to the window, where the women had taken in Antony; and having got in with two servants, he immediately made for the place where Cleopatra was in conference with Gallus. One of her women discovered him, and immedi- ately screamed aloud, " Wretched Cleopatra, you are taken alive." She turned about, and seeing Proculeius, the same instant attempted to stab herself; for to this intent she always carried a dagger about with her. Proculeius, however, prevented her, and, expostulating with her, as he held her in his arms, he entreated her not to be so injurious to herself or to Caesar; that she would not deprive so humane a prince of the glory of his clemency, or expose him by her distrust to the imputation of treachery or cruelty. At the same time he took the dagger from her, and shook her clothes, lest she should have poison concealed about her. Csesar also sent his freedman Epaph- roditus with orders to treat her with the greatest politeness, but, by all means, to bring her alive. Caesar entered Alexandria conversing with Ari- us the philosopher; and that he might do him honor before the people, he led him by the hand. When he entered the Gymnasium, he ascended a tribunal which had been erected for him, and gave assurances to the citizens, who prostrated them- selves before him, that the city should not be hurt. He told them he had different motives for this. In the first place, it was built by Alexan- der: in the next place, he admired it for its beau- ty and magnitude; and, lastly, he would spare it, were it but for the sake of his friend Arius, who was born there. Caesar gave him the high honor of this appellation, and pardoned many at his re- quest. Among these was Philostratus, one of the most acute and eloquent sophists of his time. This man, without any right, pretended to be a follower of the academies; and Caesar, from a bad opinion of his morals, rejected his petition: upon which the sophist followed Arius up and down in a mourning cloak, witli a long white heard, cry- ing constantly, " The wise, if really such, will save the wise." Caesar heard and pardoned him, not so much out of favor, as to save Arius from the impertinence and envy he might incur on his account. Antyllus, the eldest son of Antony by Fulvia, was betrayed by his tutor Theodorus and put to death. While the soldiers were beheading him, the tutor stole a jewel of considerable value, which he wore about his neck, and concealed it iu his girdle. When he was charged with it, he I denied the fact; but the jewel was loand upor him, and he was crucified. Ccesar appointed a guard over Cleopatra's children and their gover- nors, and allowed them an honorable support. I Caesario, the reputed son of Caesar, the dictator. (had been sent by his mother, with a considera- | ble sum of money, through ^Ethiopia into India. But, Rhoden, his governor, a man of the same principles with Theodorus, persuading him thai CaBsar would certainly make him king of Egypt, prevailed on him to turn back. While Caesar was deliberating how he should dispose of him, Arius is said to have observed, that there ought not, by any means, to be too many CaBsars. How- ever, soon after the death of Cleopatra, he was slain. Many considerable princes begged the body of Antony, that they might have the honor of giv- ing it burial; but Csesar would not take it from Cleopatra, who interred it with her own hands, and performed the funeral rites with great mag- nificence; for she was allowed to expend what she thought proper on the occasion. The excess of her affliction, and the inflammation of her breast, which was wounded by the blows she had given it in her anguish, threw her into a fever. She was pleased to find an excuse in this for ab- staining from food, and hoped, by this means, to die without interruption. The physician, in whom she placed her principal confidence, was Olympus; and, according to his short account of these transactions, she made use of his advice in the accomplishment of her design. Caesar, how- ever, suspected it; and that he might prevail on her to take the necessary food and physic, he threatened to treat her children with severity. This had the desired effect, and her resolution wa overborne.* A few days after, Caesar himself made her a visit of condolence and consolation. She was then in an undress, and lying negligently on a couch; but when the conqueror entered the apartment, though she had nothing on, but a sin- gle bedgown, she arose and threw herself at his feet. Her face was out of figure, her hair in disorder, her voice trembling, her eyes sunk, and her bosom bore the marks of the injuries she had done it. In short, her person gave one the im- age of her mind; yet, in this deplorable condi- tion, there were some remains of that grace, that spirit and vivacity which had so peculiarly ani- mated her former charms, and still some gleams of her native elegance might be seen to wander over her melancholy countenance/)- When Caesar had replaced her on her couch, and seated himself by her, she endeavored to jus- tify the part she took against him in the war, alleging the necessity she was under, and her fear of Antony. But when she found that these apol- ogies had no weight with Caesar, she had recourse to prayers and entreaties, as if she had been re- ally desirous of life; and, at the same time, she put into his hands an inventory of her treasure. Seleucus, one of the treasurers, who was present, * Cleopatra certainly possessed the virtues of fidelity and natural affection in a very eminent degree. She had several opportunities of betraying Antony, could she have ! been induced to it either by fear or ambition. Her tender- ness for her children is always superior to her self-love; and she had a greatness of soul which Ccesar never knew. i t Dion gives a more pompous account of her reception j of Cassar. She received him, he tells us, in a magnificent | apartment, lying on a splendid bed, in a mourning habit, I which peculiarly became her; that she had several pictures i of Julius Caesar placed near her; and some letters she had j received from him in her bosom. The conversation turned I on the same subject; and her speech on the occasion is ra- ' coled. Dion. 1. 54. ANTONY. 607 Accused her of suppressing some articles in the account; upon which she started up from tlie couch, caught him by the hair, and gave him sev- eral blows on the face. Caesar smiled at this spirited resentment, and endeavored to pacify her: " But how is it to be borne," said she, " Caesar, if, while even you honor me with a visit in my wretched situation, I must be affronted by one of my own servants^ Supposing that I have reserv- ed a few trinkets, they were by no means intend- ed as ornaments for my own person in these mis- erable fortunes, but as little presents for Octavia and Livia, by whose good offices I might hope to find favor with you." Caesar was not displeased to hear this, because he flattered himself that she was willing to live. He, therefore, assured her, that, whatever, she had reserved she might dis- pose of at her pleasure; and that she might, in every respect, depend on the most honorable treatment. After this, he took his leave, in con- fidence that he had brought her to his purpose; but she deceived him. There was in Caesar's train a young nobleman, whose name was Cornelius Dolabella. He was smitten with the charms of Cleopatra, and having engaged to communicate to her everything that passed, he sent her private notice that Caesar was about to return into Syria, and that, within three days, she would be sent away with her children. When she was informed of this, she requested of Caesar permission to make her last oblations to Antony. This being granted, she was conveyed to the place where he was buried; and kneeling at his tomb, with her women, she thus addressed the manes of the dead: "It is not long, my An- tony, since with these hands I buried thee. Alas! they then were free; but thy Cleopatra is now a prisoner, attended by a guard, lest in the transports of her grief, she should disfigure this captive body, which is reserved to adorn the tri- umph over thee. These are the last offerings, the last honors she can pay thee: for she is now to be conveyed to a distant country. Nothing could part us while we lived: but in death we are to be divided. Thou, though a Roman, liest buried in Egypt; and I, an Egyptian, must be interred in Italy, the only favor I shall receive from thy coun- try. Yet, if the gods of Rome have power or mercy left (for surely those of Egypt have for- saken us*), let them not suffer me to be led in living triumph to thy disgrace! No! hide me, hide rne with thee in the grave; for life, since thou hast left it, has been misery to rne." Thus the unhappy queen bewailed her misfor- tunes; and, after she had crowned the tomb with flowers, and kissed it, she ordered her bath to be prepared. When she had bathed, she sat down to a magnificent supper; soon after which, a peasant came to the gate with a small basket. The guards inquired what it contained; and the man who brought it, putting by the leaves which lay up- permost, showed them a parcel of figs. As they admired their size and beauty, he smiled and bade them take some; but they refused, and not sus- pecting that the basket contained anything else, it was carried in. After supper, Cleopatra sent a letter to Caesar, and, ordering every body out of the monument, except her two women, she made fast the door. When Coasar opened the letter, the plaintive style in which it was written, and the ' It was the opinion of the ancients, that the gods for- pok tbe vanquished. Thus Virgil: Excessere omnes, adytis arisque relictis, Dii, quibus imperium hoc steterat. J&n. ii. A.nd Tacitus, Alieni jam imperii deos. strong request that she might be buried in the same tomb with Antony, made him suspect her design. At first he was for hastening to her him- self, but he changed his mind and dispatched others.* Her death, however, was so sudden, that though they who were sent ran the whole way, alarmed the guards with their apprehensions, and immediately broke open the doors, they found her quite dead,f lying on her golden bed, and dressed in all her royal ornaments. Iras, one of her women, lay dead at her feet, and Charrnion, hardly able to support herself, was adjusting her mistress's diadem. One of Caesar's messengers said angrily, " Charmion, was this well done?" "Perfectly well," said she, " and worthy a de- scendant of the kings of Egypt." She had no sooner said this, than she fell down dead. It is related by some that an asp was brought in among the figs, and hid under the leaves; and that Cleopatra had ordered it so that she might be bit without seeing it; that, however, upon re- moving the leaves, she perceived it, and said, " This is what I wanted." Upon which she im- mediately held out her arm to it. Others say, that the asp was kept in a water vessel, and that she vexed and pricked it with a golden spindle until it seized her arm. Nothing of this, however, could be ascertained; for it was reported likewise that she carried about with her a certain poison in a hollow bodkin that she wore in her hair; yet there was neither any mark of poison on her body, nor was there any serpent found in the monument, though the track of a reptile was said to have been discovered on the sea sands oppo- site the windows of Cleopatra's upartment.-r- Others, again, have affirmed that she had two small punctures on her arm, apparently occasioned by the sting of the asp; and it is clear that Caesar gave credit to this; for her effigy, which he carried in triumph, had an asp on the arm.J Such are the accounts we have of the death of Cleopatra; and though Caesar was much disap- pointed by it, he admired her fortitude, and order- ed her to be buried in the tomb of Antony, with all the magnificence due to her quality. Her wo- men, too, were, by his orders, interred with great funeral pomp. Cleopatra died at the age of thir- ty-nine, after having reigned twenty-two years, the fourteen last in conjunction with Antony. Antony was fifty-three, some say fifty-six, when he died. His statues were all demolished, but Cleopatra's remain untouched; for Archibius, a friend of hers, gave Coesar a thousand talents for their redemption. Antony left by his three wives seven children^, whereof Antyllus, the eldest, only was put to death. Octavia took the rest, and educated them as her own. Cleopatra, his daughter by Cleo- patra, was married to Juba, one of the politest princes of his time; and Octavia made AntonVj his son by Fulvia, so considerable with Caesar, that, after Agrippa and the sons of Livia, he was gene- rally allowed to hold the first place in his favor. Octavia, by her first husband Marcel I us, had two daughters and a son named Marcellus. One of these daughters she married to Agrippa; and the son married a daughter of Caesar's. But as he * This is another instance of his personal cowardice. t Dion says, that Caesar ordered her to be sucked by the Psylli, that the poison might be drawn out; but it was too late. t This may be a matter of doubt. There would, of course, be an asp on the diadem of the effigy, because it was pe- culiar to the kings of l^gvpt; and this might give rise to the report of an asp being on" the arm. By Fulvia, he had Antyllus and Antony; by Cleopatra he had Cleopatra, Ptolemy/and Alexander; and by Octacia, Antonia major and Antonia minor. 008 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. died soon after, and Octavia observing that her brother was at a loss whom he should adopt in his place, she prevailed on him to give his daughter Julia to Agrippa, though her own daughter must necessarily be divorced to make way for her. Csesar and Agrippa having agreed on this point, she took back her daughter and married her to Antony. Of the two daughters that Octavia had by Antony, one was married to Dornitius JEno- burbus, and the other, Antonia, so much celebrat- ed for her beauty and virtue, married Drusus, the son of Livia, and son-in-law to Cresar. Of this j line came Germanicus and Claudius. Claudius I was afterward emperor; and so likewise was I Caius, the son of Germanicus, who, after a short ' but infamous reign, was put to death, together j with his wife and daughter. Agrippina, who had j Lucius Domitius by /Enobarbus, was afterward married to Claudius Ca3sar. He adopted Domitius, whom he named Nero Germanicus. This Nero, who was emperor in our times, put his own moth- er to death, and, by the madness of his conduct, went near to ruin the Roman empire. He was the fifth in descent from Antony DEMETRIUS AND ANTONY COMPARED. As Demetrius and Antony both passed through j too much ease into luxury and indulgence. But variety of fortune, we shall consider, in the first ] we a variety place, their respective power and celebrity. These were hereditary to Demetrius; for Antigonus,the most powerful of Alexander's successors, had re- duced all Asia during his son's minority. On the other hand, the father of Antony was, indeed, never find Demetrius neglecting his affairs for his pleasures. In his hours of leisure, indeed, he had his Lamia, whose office it was, like the fairy in the fable, to lull him to sleep or amuse him in his play. When he went to war, his spear was not bound about with ivy; his helmet did not man of character, but not of a military character; | smell of perfume; he did not come in the foppery yet though he had no public influence or reputa- I of dress out of the chambers of the women: the tion to bequeath to his son, that son did not hesi- riots of Bacchus and his train were hushed; and he became, as Euripides says, the Minister of Mara. In short, he never lost a battle through the indul- tate to aspire to the empire of Caasar; and, with- out any title either from consanguinity or alii ance, he effectually invested himself with all that he had acquired: at least, by his own peculiar weight, after he had divided the world into two parts, he took the better for himself. By his lieu- tenants he conquered the Parthians, and drove back the barbarous nations about Caucasus, as far as the Caspian sea. Even the less reputable parts of his conduct are so many testimonies of his greatness. The father of Demetrius thought it an honor to marry hm to Phila the daughter of An- tipater, though there was a disparity in their years; while Antony's connection with Cleopatra was considered as a degrading circumstance; though Cleopatra, in wealth and magnificence, was supe- rior to all the princes of her time, Arsaces except- ed. Thus he had raised himself to such a pitch of grandeur, that the world in general thought him entitled even to more than he wished. In Demetrius' acquisition of empire there was nothing reprehensible. He extended it only to nations inured to slavery, and desirous of being governed. But the arbitrary power of Antony grew on the execrable policy of a tyrant, who once more reduced to slavery a people that had shaken off the yoke. Consequently the greatest of his actions, his conquest of Brutus and Cassius, is darkened witli the inglorious motive of wresting its liberty from Rome. Demetrius, during his bet- ter fortunes, consulted the liberties of Greece, and removed the garrisons from the cities: while Anto- ny made it his boast, that he had destroyed the as- sertors of his country's freedom in Macedonia. Antony is praised for his liberality and munifi- cence; in which, however, Demetrius is so far his superior, that he gave more to his enemies than the former did to his friends. Antony was honor- ed for allowing a magnificent funeral to Brutus; but Demetrius buried every enemy he had slain, and sent back his prisoners to Ptolemy, not only with their own property, but with presents. Both were insolent in prosperity, and fell with gence of luxury. This could not be said of An- tony: as in the pictures of Hercules we see Om- phale stealing his club and his lion's skin, so Cleo- patra frequently disarmed Antony, and, while he should have been prosecuting the most necessary expeditions, led him to dancing and dalliance on the shores of Canopus and Taphosiris.* So, like- wise, as Paris came from battle to the bosom of Helen, and even from the loss of victory to her bed, Antony threw victory itself out of his hands to follow Cleopatra. Demetrius being under no prohibition of the laws, but following the example of Philip and Al- exander, Lysimachus, and Ptolemy, married seve- ral wives, and treated them all with the greatest honor. Antony, though it was a thing unheard of among the Romans, had two wives at the same time. Beside, he banished her who was properly his wife, and a citizen, from his house, to indulge a foreigner with whom he could have no legal connection. From their marriages, of course, one of them found no inconvenience; th* other suffered the greatest evils. In respect to their amours, Antony was com- paratively pardonable and modest. Historians tell us, that the Athenians turned the dogs out of the citadel, because they had their procreative in- tercourse in public. But Demetrius had his cour- tesans, and dishonored the matrons of Athens even in the temple of Minerva. Nay, though cruelty seems to be inconsistent with sensual gratifica- tions, he scrupled not to drive the most beautiful and virtuous youth in the city to the extremity of death, to avoid his brutal designs. In short, Antony, by his amorous iudulgences, hurt only himself: Demetrius injured others. With regard to their behavior to their parents and relations, that of Demetrius is irreproachable; * Strabo mentions this as a romantic place near the sea, full of rocks, where the young went to amuse themselves. Lib. xvii. DION. 609 but Antony sacrificed his uncle to the sword of Ctesar, that he might be empowered in his turn to cut off Cicero. A crime the latter was, which never could be made pardonable, had Antony even saved and not sacrificed an uncle by the means. They are both accused of perfidy, in that one of them threw Artabazus in prison; and the other killed Alexander. Antony, however, has some apology in this case; for he had been abandoned and betrayed by Artabazus in Media. But Deme- trius was suspected of laying a false accusation against Alexander, and of punishing, not the of- fender, but the injured. There is this difference, too, in their military operations, that Demetrius gained every victory himself, and many of Antony's laurels were won by his lieutenants. Both lost their empire by their own fault, but by different means. The former was abandoned by his people: the latter deserted his, even while they were fighting for him. The fault of De- metrius was, that, by his conduct, he lost tha affection of his army: the fault of Antony, his desertion and neglect of that affection. Neither of them can be approved in their death; but Demetrius much less than Antony; for he suffered himself to fall into the hands of the enemy, and, with a spirit that was truly bestial, endured an imprisonment of three years for nothing but the low indulgence of appetite. There was a deplorable weakness, and many disgraceful cir- cumstances attending the death of Antony; but he effected it at last without falling into the enemy's hands. DION. As we learn from Simonides, my dear Senecio, that the Trojans were by no means offended at the Corinthians for joining the confederates in the Grecian war, because the family of Glaucus, their own ally, was originally of Corinth, so neither the Greeks nor the Romans have reason to com- plain of the academy, which has been equally fa- vorable to both. This will appear from the lives of Brutus and Dion; for, as one was the scholar of Plato, and the other educated in his principles, they came like wrestlers from the same Palaestra, to engage in the greatest conflicts. Both by their conduct, in which there was a great similarity, confirmed that observation of their master, that " Power and fortune must concur with pru- dence and justice, to effect anything great in a political capacity:" but as Hippomachus, the wrestler, said that he could distinguish his scholars at a distance, though they were only carrying meat from the market; so the senti- znents of those who have had a polite education, mast have a similar influence on their manners, and give a peculiar grace and propriety to their conduct Accident, however, rather than design, gave a similarity to the lives of these two men; and both were cut off by an untimely death, before they could carry the purposes, which they had pursued with so much labor, into execution. The most singular circumstance attending their death was, that both had a divine warning of it, in the ap- pearance of a frightful specter. There are those, indeed, who say that no man in his senses ever saw a specter; that these are the delusive visions of wom^n and children, or of men whose intellects are affected by some infirmity of the body: and who believe that their absurd imaginations are of divine inspiration. But of Dion and Brutus, men of firm and philosophic minds, whose un- derstandings were not affected by any constitu- tional infirmity: if such men could pay so much credit to the appearance of specters, as to give an account of them to their friends, I see no reason why we should depart from the opinion of the ancients, that men had their evil genii, who dis- turbed them with fears, and distressed their virtue, lest by a steady and uniform pursuit of it, they should hereafter obtain a happier allotment than 39 themselves.* These things, however, I must re- fer to another occasion, and in this twelfth book of parallel lives, of which Dion and Brutus are the subjects, I shall begin with the more an- cient. After Dionysius the elder had seized the gov- ernment of Sicily, he married the daughter of Hermocrates, a Syracusan. But as the monarchic power was yet but ill established, she had the misfortune to be so much abused in her persou by an outrageous faction, that she put an end to her life. When Dionysius was confirmed in his government, he married two wives at the same time. One was Doris, a native of Locris, the other Aristomache, the daughter of Hipparinus, who was a principal person in Syracuse, and colleague with Dionysius, when he was first ap- pointed general of the Sicilian forces. It is said that he married these wives on the same day. It is not certain which he enjoyed first, but he was impartial in his kindness to them; for both at- tended him at his table, and alternately partook of his bed. As Doris had the disadvantage of being a foreigner, the Syracusans sought every means of obtaining the preference for their coun- trywoman; but it was more than equivalent to this disadvantage, that she had the honor of giving Dionysius his eldest son. Aristomache, on the contrary, was a long time barren, though the king was extremely desirous of having children by her, and put to death the mother of Doris, upon a supposition that she had prevented her< conceptions by potions. Dion, the brother of Aristomache, was well re- ceived at court; not only on her account, but from the regard which Dionysius had for his merit and < abilities; and that prince gave his treasurer an order to supply him with whatever money he wanted; but, at the same time, to keep an ac- count of what he received. But whatever the talents and virtues of Dion might be originally, it is certain that they received the happiest improve- ment under the auspices of Plato. Surely the gods, in mercy to mankind, sent that divine philoso- * This is perfectly agreeable to the Platonic doctrine of ; the different orders and dispositions of the genii. And M Dion and Brutus were both great enthusiasts in Platoni-n, the strength of their faith brought theii specters before Uutufe . 610 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. pber from Italy to Syracuse, that thrtugh the ! humane influence of his doctrine, the spirit of ' liberty might once more revive, and the inhab- itants of that country be rescued from tyranny.* Dion soon became the most distinguished of his scholars. To the fertility of his genius, and the excellence of his disposition, Plato himself has given testimony,1 and he did the greatest honor to that testimony in his life. For though he had been educated in servile principles under a tyrant; though he had been familiarized to dependence on the one hand, and to indulgence of pomp and luxury, as the greatest happiness, on the other; yet he was no sooner acquainted with that philos- ophy which points out the road to virtue, than his whole soul caught the enthusiasm; and with the simplicity of a young man, who judges of the dispositions of others by his own, he con- cluded that Plato's lectures would have the same effect on Dionysius: for this reason he solicited, and at length persuaded the tyrant to hear him. When Plato was admitted, the discourse turned on virtue in general. Afterward, they came to for- titude in particular; and Plato made it appear, that tyrants have of all men, the least pretense to that virtue. Justice was the next topic: and when Plato asserted the happiness of the just, and the wretched condition of the unjust, the tyrant was stung; and being unable to answer his arguments, he expressed his resentment against those who seemed to listen to him with pleasure. At last he was extremely exasperated, and asked the philosopher what business he had in Sicily. Plato answered, " that he came to seek an honest man." " And so, then," replied the tyrant, " it seems you have lost your labor." Dion was in hopes that his anger would have ended here: but while Plato was hasting to be gone, he conveyed him on board a galley, in which Pollis, the Lacede- monian, was returning to Greece. Dionyeius urged Pollis "either to put Plato to death in his passage, or, at least, to sell him as a slave: for, according to his own maxim," said he, " this man cannot be unhappy; a just man, he says, must be happy in a state of slavery, as well as in a state of freedom." Pollis, therefore, carried him to ^Egina, and sold him there.J For the people of that place being ut war with the Athenians, had made a decree, that whatever Athenian was taken on their coast, he should be sold. Dion, notwith- standing, retained his interest with Dionysius, had considerable employments, and was sent am- bassador to Carthage. Dionysius had a high esteem for him, and he, therefore, permitted him to speak his sentimsnts with freedom. An instance of this we have in the retort he made in the tyrant's rid- iculing the government of Gelo. " Gelo," said Dionysius, " is (Gelos*) the laughing stock of Sicily." While others admired and applauded this witticism, Dion answered, " You obtained the crown by being trusted on Gelo's account, who reigned with great humanity, but you have reigned in such a manner, that, for your sake, no man will be trusted hereafter. Gelo made mon- archy appear the best of governments, but you have convinced us that it is the worst." Dionysius b.ad three children by Doris, and four by Aristo- mache, whereof two were daughters, Sophrosyne and Arete. The former of these was nmrrk-d to his eldest son Dionysius; the latter to his brother Thearides; and after his death to her uncle Dion. Plato, in his seventh letter says, " When I explained the principles of philosophy and humanity to Dion, I little sibly opening a way to the sub- thought that I was i version of tyranny!" t 1'iato, ibid. i For twenty pounds. In the last illness of Dionysius, Dion would have applied to him in behalf of the children of Aristo- mache, but the physicians were beforehand with him. They wanted to ingratiate themselves with his successor; and when he asked for a sleeping dose, Tima3us tells us, they gave him so effectual a one that he waked no more. When his son Dionysius came to the throne, in the first council that he held, Dion spoke with so much propriety on the present state of affairs, and on the measures which ought to be taken, that the rest appeared to be mere children in under- standing. By the freedom of his counsels, he exposed in a strong light the slavish principles of those who, through a timorous disingenuity, ad- vised such measures as they thought would please their prince, rather than such as might advance his interest. But what alarmed them most, was the steps he proposed to take with regard to the impending war with Carthage; for he offered either to go in person to Carthage, and settle an honorable peace with the Carthaginians, or, if the king were rather inclined for war, to fit out and maintain fifty galleys at his own expense. Dionysius was pleased with the magnificence of his spirit; but the courtiers felt that it made them appear little. They agreed that at all events, Dion was to be crushed, and they spared no cal- umny that malice could suggest. They repre- sented to the king, that he certainly meant to make himself master by sea, and by that means to obtain the kingdom for his sister's children. There was, moreover, another and an obvious cause of their hatred to him, in the reserve of his manners, and of the sobriety of his life. They led the young and ill educated king through every species of debauchery, the shameless panders to his wrong -directed passions. Yet while folly rioted, tyranny slept; its rage was dissolved in the ardor of youthful indulgences, as iron is softened in the fire; and that lenity which the Sicilians could not expect from the virtue of their prnice, they found in his weakness. Thus the reins of that monarchy which Dionysius vainly called ad amantine, fell gradually from the loose and disso- lute hand that held them. This young prince, it is said, would coutinue the scene of intoxication for ninety days without intermission; during which time no sober person was admitted to his court, where all was drunkenness and buffoonery, rev- elry and riot. Their enmity to Dion, who had no taste for these enjoyments, was a thing of course. And, as he refused to partake with them in their vices, they resolved to strip him of his virtues. To these they gave the names of such vices as are supposed in some degree to resemble them. His gravity of manners they called pride; his freedom of speech insolence; his declining to jo'n in their licentiousness contempt. It is true, there was a natural haughtiness in his deportment; and an as- perity that was unsociable and difficult of access: so that it is not to be wondered if he found no ready admission to the ears of a young king, already spoiled by flattery. Many, even of his own particular friends, who admired the integrity and generosity of his heart, could not but con- demn those forbidding manners, which were s ill adapted to social and political intercourse: and Plato himself, when he wrote to him some tim afler, warned him, as it were by the spirit of prophe.sy, To guard against that austerity which i* the companion of solitude.* However, the news * A aubitol*. ctfiiuix. %vm*0( Literally, Haughti nets liven under the same roof with, folitude. This is U> DION. 611 ity of the times, and the feeble state of the mon- archy, rendered it necessary for the king, though contrary to his inclination, to retain him in the highest appointments: and this Dion himself very Well knew. As he was willing to impute the irregularities of Dionysius to ignorance and a bad education, he endeavored to engage him in a course of liberal studies, and to give him a taste for those sciences which have a tendency to moral improvement. By this means he hoped that he should induce him to think of virtue without disgust, and at length to embrace its precepts with pleasure. The young Dionysius was not naturally the worst of princes; but his father being apprehen- sive that if his mind were improved by science and the conversation of wise and virtuous men, he might sometime or other, think of depriving him of his kingdom, kept him in close confinement; where, through ignorance and want of other em- ployment, he amused himself with making little chariots, candlesticks, wooden chairs, and tables. His father, indeed, was so suspicious of all man- kind, and so wretchedly timorous, that he would not suffer a barber to shave him: but had his hair singed off with a live coal by one of his own attendants. Neither his brother nor his son we^e admitted into his chamber in their own clothes, but were first stripped and examined by the senti- nels, and after that were obliged to put on such clothes as were provided for them. When his brother Leptines was once describing the situation of a place, he took a spear from one of the guards to trace the plan, upon which Dionysius was extremely offended, and caused the soldier who had given up his spear, to be put to death. He was afraid, he said, of the sense and sagacity of his friends; because he knew they must think it more eligible to govern than to obey. He slew Marsyas, whom he had advanced to a considera- ble military command, merely because Marsyas dreamed that he killed him; for he concluded, that this dream by night was occasioned by some similar suggestion of the day. Yet even this timorous and suspicious wretch was offended with Plato, because he would not allow him to be the most valiant man in the world! When Dion, as we have before observed, con- sidered that the irregularities of young Dionysius were chiefly owing to his want of education, he exhorted him earnestly to apply himself to study; and by all means to send for Plato, the prince of philosophers, into Sicily. "When he comes," Baid he, "apply to him without loss of time. Con- formed by his precepts to that divine exemplar of beauty and perfection, which called the universe from confusion into order, you will at once secure your own happiness, and the happiness of your people. The obedience they now render you through fear, by your justice and moderation you will improve to a principle of filial duty; and of a tyrant, you will become a king. Fear and force, and fleets and armies, are not, as your father called them, the adamantine chains of gov- ernment; but that attention, that affection, that respect, which justice and goodness forever draw after them. These are the milder, but the stronger bonds of empire. Beside, it is surely a disgrace for a prince, who in all the circumstances of figure and appearance is distinguished from the people, not to rise above them at the same time, in the ward the end of Flato's fourth letter. It is preceded by a fine political precept, viz: that the complaisance which produces popularity, is the source of the greatest operations V government. superiority of his conversation, and the cultiva tion of his rnind." As Dion frequently solicited the king on this subject, and occasionally repeated some of Plato's arguments, he conceived at length a violent incli- nation to hear him discourse. He therefore sent several letters of invitation to him at Athens, which were seconded by the entreaties of Dion. The Pythagorean philosopher* in Italy requested at the same time, that he would undertake the direction of this young prince, whose mind was misguided by power, and reclaim him by the solid counsels of philosophy. Plaio, as he owns him- self, was ashamed to be a philosopher in theory, and not in practice; and flattering himself that If he could rectify the mind of the prince, he might by the same means remedy the disorders of tho kingdom, he yielded to their request. The enemies of Dion, now fearing an alteration in Dionysius, advised him to recall from exile one Philistus, who was indeed a man of learning,* but employed his talents in defense of the despotic policy; and this man they intended to set in op- position to Plato and his philosophy. Philistus, from the beginning, had been a principal instru- ment in promoting the monarchic government, and kept the citadel, of which he was governor, a long time for that party. It is said that he had a private commerce with the mother of the elder Dionysius, and that the tyrant himself was not ignorant of it. Be this as it may, Leptines, who had two daughters by a married woman whom he had debauched, gave one of them in marriage to Philistus; but this being done without consulting Dionysius, he was offended, imprisoned Leptines's mistress, and banished Philistus. The latter flea to his friends in Adria, where, it is probable, he composed the greatest part of his history; for he did not return to Sicily during the reign of that Dionysius. After his death, as we have observed, Dion's enemies occasioned him to be recalled. His arbitrary principles were suitable for their purpose, and he began to exercise them immedi- ately on his return. At the same time calumnies and impeachments against Dion were, as usual, brought to the king. He was accused of holding a private correspon- dence with Theodoses and Heraclides, for the subversion of. the monarchy; and indeed it is probable that he entertained some hopes from the arrival of Plato, of lessening the excessive power of Dionysius, or, at least, of making him moder- ate and equitable in the use of it. Beside, if he continued obstinate, and were not to be reclaimed, he was determined to depose him, and restore the commonwealth to the Syracusans; for he prefer- red even the popular form of government to an absolute monarchy, where a well regulated aris- tocracy could not be procured. Such was the state of affairs when Plato came into Sicily. At first he was received with the greatest appearance of kindness, and was conveyed from the coast in one of the king's most splendid chariots. Even Dionysius him- self sacrificed to the gods in acknowledgment of his safe arrival, and of the honor and happiness they had by that means conferred on his king- dom. The people had the greatest hopes of a speedy reformation. They observed an unusual decorum in the entertainments at court, and a sobriety in the conduct of the courtiers; while the king answered all to whom he gave audience in a very obliging manner. The desire of learn- * He wrote the histories of Egypt, Sicily, and the reign of Dionysius. Cicero calls him the petty Thucydider PusiUtts Thucydides. 612 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ing, and the study of philosophy were become general; and the several apartments of the royal palace were like so many schools of geometri- cians, full of the dust in which the students de- scribe their mathematical figures. Not long after this, at a solemn sacrifice in the citadel, when the herald prayed as usual for the long continuance of tlie government, Dionysius is said to have cried, "How long will you continue to curse me?" This was an inexpressible mortification to Philistus and his party: if Plato, said they, has already made sucli a change in the king, his in- fluence in time will be irresistible. They now no .longer made their attacks on Dion separately, or in private. They united in exclaiming against hirn, that he had fascinated the king with the delusions of eloquence and philos- ophy, in order to obtain the kingdom for his sis- ter's children. They represented it as a matter of the greatest indignity, that after the whole force of the Athenians had vainly invaded Sicily, and were vanquished and destroyed, without so much as being able to take Syracuse, they should now, by means of one sophist, overturn the em- pire of Dionysius. It was with indignation they beheld the deluded monarch prevailed on by his insinuations to part with his guard of ten thousand spearmen, to give up a navy of four hundred galleys, to disband an army of ten thousand horse, and many times that number of foot, in or- der that he might pursue an ideal happiness in the academy, and amuse himself with theorems of geometry, while the substantial enjoyments of wealth and power were left to Dion and the chil- dren of Aristomache. By means of these suggestions Dion first in- curred the suspicion, and soon after the open displeasure of Dionysius. A letter of his was likewise intercepted, and privately carried to the king, It was addressed to the Carthaginian agents, and directed them not to have their audi- ence of the king concerning the conclusion of the peace, unless he were present, and then every- thing should be settled as they wished. Timaaus informs us, that after Dionysius had showed this letter to Philistus, and consulted him upon it, he over-reached Dion by a pretense of reconciliation, and told him, that he was desirous their good un- derstanding might be renewed. After this, as he was one day walking alone with him by the walls of the castle, near the sea, he showed him the let- ter, and accused him of conspiring with the Carthaginians against him. When Dion at- tempted to speak in his own defense, Dionysius refused to hear him: and having forced him on board a vessel which lay there for the purpose, commanded the sailors to set him ashore in Italy. When this was publicly known, it was gene- rally condemned as tyrannical and cruel. The court was in distress for the ladies of Dion's family; but the citizens received fresh courage from the event; for they were in hopes that the odium which it would bring upon Dionysius, and the general discontent that his government occasioned, might contribute to bring about a revolution. Dionysius perceived this with some anxiety, and thinking it necessary to pacify the women, and the rest of Dion's friends, he told them that he was not gone into exile, but only sent out of the way for a time, that his obstinacy might not draw upon him a heavier punishment. He also allowed his friends two ships, that they might convey to him, in Pelpponnesus, as much of his treasure, and as many of his servants as they should think fit: for Dion was a man of considerable property, and little inferior to the king in wealth or magnificence. The most valu* able part of his effects, together with presents from the ladies and others of his acquaintance, his friends conveyed to him; and the splendor of his fortune gained him great respect among the Greeks. At the same time they conceived a high idea of the power of the tyrant, when an exile from his kingdom could make such an ap- pearance. Dionysius now removed Plato into the citadel, under color of kindness; but in reality to set a guard upon him, lest he should follow Dion, and proclaim to the world how injuriously he had been treated. As wild beasts become tame and tractable by use, so the tyrant, by frequent conversation with the philosopher, began at last to conceive an affec- tion for him; yet even that affection had some- thing of the tyrant in it; for he required of Plato, in return, that he should exclusively confine his regard and admiration to him. On condition that he would prefer his friendship to that of Dion, he was willing to give up the wholeadmin- istration into his hands. This extravagant affec- tion gave Plato no small trouble; for it was ac- companied with petulance and jealousy, as the love which subsists between the different sexes has its quarrels and reconciliations. He expressed the strongest desire to become Plato's scholar, and to proceed in the study of philosophy; but he expressed it with reluctance in the presence of those who wanted to divert him from his purpose, and seemed as if he was in pursuit of something he ought to be ashamed of. As a war broke out about this time, he found it necessary to dismiss Plato; but he promised him, before his departure, to recall Dion the ensuing summer; however, he did not keep his promise, but made the war he was engaged in his apology, and remitted to him the produce of his estate. At the same time he desired Plato to acquiesce in his apology, assuring him that he would send for Dion on the commencement of the peace; and he entreated, in the mean time, that Dion would be peaceable, and not say or do anything that might hurt his character among the Greeks. This Pluto endeavored to effect, by keeping Dion in the academy in pursuit of philosophy. At Athens Dion lived with an acquaintance whose name was Callippus. But a piece of plea- sure ground which he purchased, he gave, on his departure, to Speusippus, with whom he had most usually conversed. Speusippus, as Timon, in his poems, called Syllis, informs us, was a facetious companion, and had a turn for raillery; and Plato was desirous that Dion's severity of manners might be softened by the pleasantry of his con- versation. When Plato exhibited a chorus of boys at Athens,* Dion took upon himself the management, and defrayed the expense. Plato was desirous that this munificence might procure him popularity, and on that account he readily gave up the honor of conducting the affair him- self. Dion likewise visited other cities, and conversed with the principal statesmen, by whom he was publicly entertained. In his manners there was now no longer anything pompous or affected; there was nothing that savored of the dissolute luxury of a tyrant's court; his behavior was modest, discreet, and manly; and his philosophi- cal discourses were learned and ingenious. This procured him popular favor, and public honors; * This was a dramatic entertainment, exhibited witl great r->ense and magnificence on the feast of liucchus and the Lacedaemonians, without regard to the resentment of Dionysius, though at the very time they had received succors from him against the Thebans, made him free of their city. We are told that Dion accepted an invitation from Ptoeo- dorus the Megarensian, who was a mau of con- siderable power and fortune; and when he found his door crowded with people on business, and that it was difficult to have access to him, he said to his friends, who expressed their dissatisfaction on the occasion, "Why should this affront us? We did tins, and more than this, at Syracuse." Dion's popularity in Greece soon excited the jealousy of Dionysius, who therefore stopped his remittances, and put his estate in the hands of his own stewards. However, that his reputation might not suffer, through Plato's means, among the philosophers, lie retained a number of learned men in his court; and being desirous to outshine them all in disputation, he frequently was under a necessity of introducing, without the least pro- priety, the arguments he had learned from Plato. He now wished for that philosopher again, and repented that he had so ill availed himself of his instructions. Like a tyrant, therefore, whose de- sires, however extravagant, are immediately to be complied with, he was violently bent on recalling him. To effect this, he thought of every expe- dient, and at length prevailed on Archytas, and the rest of the Pythagorean philosophers, to pledge themselves for the performance of his promises, and to persuade him to return to Sicily; for it was Plato that first introduced those philosophers to Dionysius. On their part, they sent Archidamus to Plato; and Dionysius, at the same time, sent some gal- leys, with several of his friends, to join in their re- quest. The tyrant likewise wrote to him, and told him, in plain terms, that Dion must expect no favor from him. if Plato should not come into Sicily; but, upon his arrival, he might depend on everything he desired. Dion was also solicited by his sister and wife to prevail with Phtto to gratify the tyrant, that he might no longer have an apolo- gy for the severity of his treatment. Plato, there- fore, as he says himself, set sail a third time for Sicily: To brave Charybdis' dreadful gulf once more.* His arrival was not only a satisfaction to Dio- nysius, but to all Sicily; the inhabitants of which did not fail to implore the gods, that Plato might overcome Philistus, and that the tyranny might expire under th'e influence of his philoso- phy. Plato was in high favor with the women in particular, and with Dionysius he had such credit as no other person could boast; for he was allowed to come to him without being searched. When Aristippus, the Cyrenean, observed, that the king frequently offered Plato money, and that Plato as constantly refused it: he said, " That Dionysius was liberal without danger of exhaust- ing his treasury ; for to those who wanted, and would take money, he was sparing in his offers; but profuse where he knew it would be refused." After the first civilities were over, Plato took an opportunity to mention Dion; but the tyrant put him off, until at last, expostulations and ani- mosities took place. These, however, Dionysius was industrious to conceal, and endeavored to bring over Plato from the interest of Dion by re- peated favors and studied civilities. The philoso- pher, on the other hand, did not immediately publish his perfidy, but dissembled his resentment. While things were thus circumstanced, Helicon * Odyssey, 1. xii DION. 613 of Cyzicus, one of Plato's followers, foretold an eclipse of the sun; and as it happened according to his prediction, the king, in admiration of his learning, rewarded him with a talent of silver. Upon this Aristippus, jesting among the rest of the philosophers, told them, he had something ex- traordinary likewise to prognosticate. Being en- treated to make it known, "I foresee," said he, "that in a short time there will be a quarrel be- tween Dionysius and Plato." Soon after this, Dionysius sold Dion's estate, and converted the money to his own use. Plato was removed from his apartment in the palace-gardens, and placed within the purlieus of the guards, who had long hated and even sought to kill him, on a supposi- tion that he advised the tyrant to lay down his government and disband his army. Archytas, who had engaged for Plato's safety, when he understood his danger, sent a galley to demand him; and the tyrant, to palliate his en- mity, previous to his departure, made pom- pous entertainments. At one of them, however, he could not help saying, "I suppose, Plato, when you return to your companions in the academy, my faults will often be the subject of your con- versation." "I hope," answered Plato, "we shall never be so much at a loss for subjects in the academy, as to talk of you." Such are the cir- cumstances which have been mentioned concern- ing Plato's departure, but they are not perfectly consistent with Plato's own account. Dion being offended, not only with these things, but at some intelligence he had before received concerning his wife, which is alluded to in Plato's letter to Dionysius, openly declared himself his enemy. The affair was this: Plato, on his return to Greece, was desired by Dionysius privately to consult Dion, whether he would be averse to his wife's marrying another man; for there was a report, whether true, or the invention of his ene- mies, that his matrimonial state was not agreeable to him, and that there was a coolness between him and Arete. After Plato had consulted Dion on the affair, he wrote to Dionysius, and though he spoke in plain terms of other matters, he mention- ed this in a manner that could only be intelligible to the king. He told him, that he talked with Dion on the business, and that he would certainly resent it if any such attempt were made. While any prospect of an accommodation re- mained, Dionysius took no further steps in the affair; but when that prospect was gone, and Plate once more hadleftSicily in displeasure, he compell- ed Arete to rnarry Timocrates; and in this instance, he fell short even of the justice and lenity of his father. When Philoxenus, who had married his sister Theste, was declared his enemy, and fled through fear out of Sicily, Dionysius sent for his sister, and reproached her with being privy to her husband's escape, without letting him know it. Theste answered, without fear or hesitation, "Do you think me, Dionysius, so bad a wife, or so weak a woman, that if 1 had known of my hus- band's flight, I would not have accompanied him, and shared in the worst of his fortunes? Indeed I was ignorant of it. And I assure you, that I should esteem it a higher honor to be called the wife of Philoxenus the exile, than the sister of Dionysius the tyrant." The king, it is said, ad- mired her spirited answer: and the Syracusans honored her so much that she retained her prince- ly retinue after the dissolution of the tyranny; and the citizens, by public decree, attended the solemnity of her funeral. This is a digression, but may have its use. Dion" now thought of nothing but war. Plato, 614 PLUTARCH'S LIVES however, was against it: partly on account of the hospitable favors he had received from Dionysius, and partly because of the advanced age of Dion. Speusippus, and the rest of his friends, on the other hand, encouraged him to rescue from sla- very his native Sicily, that stretched forth her hands toward him, and would certainly receive him with every expression of joy. Speusippus, when he attended Plato into Sicily, had mixed more with the people, and learned their senti- ments with regard to the government. At first, indeed, they were reserved, and suspected him for an emissary of the tyrant's: but by degrees, he obtained their confidence. In short, it was the voice, the prayer of the people, that Dion would come, though without either army or navy, to their relief, and lend them only his name and his presence against the tyrant. Dion was encour- aged by these representations; and, the more effec- tually to conceal his intentions, he raised what forces he was able by means of his friends. He was assisted in this by many statesmen and philo- sophers, among whom was Endemus, the Cy- prian (on occasion of whose death Aristotle wrote his dialogue on the soul), and Timonides, the Leucadion. These engaged in his interest Miltas the Thessalian, who was skilled in divina- tion, and had been his fellow academician. But of all those whom the tyrant had banished, which were no fewer than a thousand, no more than twenty-five gave in their names for the service. The rest, for want of spirit, would not engage in the cause. The general rendezvous was in the island of Zacynthus; and here, when the little army was assembled, it did not amount to eight hundred men.* But they were men who had signalized themselves in the greatest en- gagements; they were in perfect discipline, and inured to hardship; in courage and conduct they had no superiors in the army: in short, they were such men as were likely to serve the cause of Dion, in animating, by their example, those who came to his standard in Sicily. Yet these men, when they understood that they were to be led against Dionysius, were dis- heartened, and condemned the rash resentment of Dion; the consequence of which they looked upon as certain ruin. Nor were they less offend- ed with their commanders, and those who enlisted them, because they had concealed the design of the service. But when Dion in a public speech, after showing them the feeble state of Dionysius's government, told them, that he considered them rather as so many officers whom he carried to head the people of Sicily, already prepared to re- volt, than as private men; and when Alcirnenes, who, in birth and reputation, was the principal man in Achaia, had concurred in the address of Dion, and joined in the expedition, they then were satisfied. It was now about midsummer, the Etesian winds f prevailed at sea, and the moon was at the Diodorus enlarges with great propriety on the extra- ordinary spirit and success of this enterprise. Lib. xvi. t These winds hlew regulnrly at a certain season of the year. Straho sometimes calls them east, and sometimes north winds; but to convey Dion from Zncyntbus to Pachy- nus, they must have blown from the enst. Pliny makes the Etesian winds the same as the north east wind. Aquilo in (Estate media mutatnomen, ct Etesiasvocatur. Hist. Nat. I. xviii. cap. 34. He tells us, when the winds begin, xviii. tHalcnd. Jlugusti, Egypto a/inilo occidit matutino, Etesia- rainque Pradromi Flotus incipivnl. Ibid. I. xviii. cap. 1 28. And when they end; Dccimo Sexto Calend. Octob. JE^ypto Spica, quum tenet virgo, exoritur matutino, Etesia que desinunt Ibid, 1. xviii. cap 31. Thus it seems, that they last about two months (Pliny, in another place, says forty days, 1. ii. chap. 47), and the relief of such gales in that full, when Dion prepared a magnificent sacrifice to Apollo, and marched in procession to the tem- ple, with his men under arms. After the sacri- fice, he gave them a feast in the race ground of the Zacynthians. They were astonished at the quantity of gold and silver plate that was exhib- ited on this occasion, so far above the ordinary fortunes of a private man; and they concluded that a person of such opulence would not, at a late period of life, expose himself to dangers with- out a fair prospect of success, and the certain support of friends. After the usual prayers and libations, the moon was eclipsed. This was nothing strange to Dion, who knew the variations of the ecliptic, and that this defection of the moon's light was caused by the interposition of the earth between her and the sun. But as the soldiers were troubled about it, Miltas, the diviner, took upon him to give it a proper turn, and as- sured them, that it portended the sudden obscurity of something that was at present glorious; that this glorious object could be no other than Diony- sius, whose luster would be extinguished on their arrival in Sicily. This interpretation he com- municated in as public a manner as possible: but from the prodigy of bees,* a swarm of which set- tled on the stern of Dion's ship, he intimated to his friends his apprehensions that the great affairs which Dion was then prosecuting, after flourish- ing a while, would come to nothing. Dionysius, too, they said, had many prodigies on this occa- sion. An eagle snatched a javelin from one of his guards, and after flying aloft with it, dropped it in the sea. The waters of the sea at the foot of the citadel, were fresh for one whole day, as plainly appeared to every one that tasted them. He had pigs farrowed perfect in all their other parts, but without ears. The diviners interpreted this as an omen of rebellion and revolt: the people, they said, would no longer give ear to the man- dates of the tyrant. The freshness of the sea water imported, that the Syracusans, after their harsh and severe treatment, would enjoy milder and better times. The eagle was the minister of Jove, and the javelin an ensign of power and government: thus the father of the gods had des- tined the overthrow and abolition of the tyranny. These things we have from Theopompus. Dion's soldiers were conveyed in two transports. These were accompanied by another smaller ves- sel, and two more of thirty oars. Beside the arms of those who attended him, he took with him two thousand shields, a large quantity of durts and javelins, and a considerable supply of provisions, that nothing might be wanting in the expedition: for they put off to the main sea, because they did not think it safe to coast it along, being informed that Philistus was stationed off Japygia, to watch their motions. Having sailed with a gentle wind about twelve days, on the thirteenth they arrived at Pachynus, a promontory in Sicily. There the pilot advised Dion to land his men immediately; for, if they once doubled the cape, they might continue at sea a long time before they could have a gale from the south at that season of the year, i But Dion, who was afraid of making a descent j too near the enemy, and chose rather to make I good his landing in some remoter part of the i island, doubled the cape notwithstanding. They j had not sailed far before a strong gale from tke j north and a high sea, drove them quite off Sic'ly. season is plainly providential. Aristotle accounts lor then I from the convexity of the earth. *This superstition prevailed no less among the Romans than among the Greeks. See the Life of Brutus. At the same time there was a violent storm of thunder and lightning: for it was about the rising of Arcturus; and it was accompanied with such dreadful rains, and the weather was, in every re- spect, so tempestuous, that the affrighted sailors knew not where they were, until they found themselves driven by the violence of the storm to Cercina, on the coast of Africa. This craggy island was surrounded with such dangerous rocks, that they narrowly escaped being dashed to pieces; but by working hard with their poles they kept clear with much difficulty, until the storm abated. They were then informed by a vessel, which ac- cidentally came up with them, that they were at the head of what is called the Great Syrtis.* In this horrible situation they were further dis- heartened by finding themselves becalmed ; but, after beating about for some time, a gale sprung up suddenly from the south. On this unexpected change, as the wind increased upon them, they made all their sail, and, imploring the assistance of the gods, once more put off to sea in quest of Sicily. After an easy passage of five days, they arrived at Minoa, a small town in Sicily. f be- longing to the Carthaginians. Synalus,J a friend of Dion's, was then governor of the place, and as he knew not that this little fleet belonged to Dion, he attempted to prevent the landing of his men. The soldiers leaped out of the vessels in arms, but killed none that opposed them; for Dion, on account of his friendship with Synalus, had for- bidden them. However, they ran in one body with the fugitives into the town, and thus made themselves masters of it. When Dion and the governor met, mutual salutations passed between them, and the former restored him to his town unhurt. Synalus, in return, entertained his sol- diers, and supplied him with necessaries. It happened that Dionysius, a little before this, had sailed with eighty ships for Italy, and this absence of his gave them no small encouragement. Insomuch, that when Dion invited his men to refresh themselves for some time after their fatigues at sea, they thought of nothing but making a proper use of the present moment, and called upon him, with one voice, to lead them to Syra- cuse: he therefore left his useless arms and bag- gage with Synalus, and, having engaged him to transmit them to him at a proper opportunity, marched for Syracuse. Two hundred of the Agrigentine cavalry, who inhabited the country about Ecnomus, immediately revolted and joined him in his march, and these were followed by the inhabitants of Gela. The news of his arrival soon reaching Syracuse, fimocrates, who had married Dion's wife, and was appointed regent in the absence of Dionysius, immediately dispatched letters to acquaint him with the event. In the meanwhile, he applied himself to prevent all tumults in the city, for the people were greatly animated on the report of Dion's arrival, though the uncertainty they were under as yet kept them quiet. A singular accident happened to the courier who was dis- patched with letters for Dionysius. As he was passing through the territory of Rhegium to Cau- lonia, where the tyrant then was, he met an ac- quaintance of his returning home with a newly offered sacrifice, and having taken a little of the flesh for his own use,|| he made the best of his way. At night, however, he found it necessary * Not far from Tripoli. t On the South Coast, t Diodorus calls him Pyralus. II To carry home part of the victim, and to give part, of it to any person that the bearer met, were acts of religion. DION. 615 ;o take a little rest, and retired to sleep in a wood jy the side of the road. A wolf, allured by the smell of the flesh, came up while he was asleep, and carried it off, together with the bag of letters to which it was fastened. When the courier awaked, he sought a long time to no purpose for iis dispatches, and being determined not to face Dionysius without them, he absconded. Thus it was a considerable time after, and from other lands, that Dionysius was informed of Dion's arrival in Sicily. Dion, in his march, was joined by the Camari- naeans, and many revolters from the territory of Syracuse. The Leontines and Campanians, who, with Timocrates, guarded the Epipoloe, being misled by a report designedly propagated by Dion, that he intended to attack their cities first, quitted their present station, and went to take care of their own concerns. Dion, being informed of this, while he lay near Acrae, decamped in the night and came to. the river Anapus, which is at the distance of ten furlongs from the city. There lie halted, and sacrificed, by the river, addressing his prayers to the rising sun. The diviners in- formed him that the gods gave a promise of vic- tory, and as he had himself assumed a garland at the sacrifice, all that were present immediately did the same. He was now joined by about five thousand, who were, indeed, ill furnished with arms; but their courage supplied that deficiency.* When he gave orders to march, Liberty was the word, and they rushed forward with the highest acclamations of joy. The most considerable cit- izens of Syracuse, dressed all in white, met him at the gates. The populace fell with great fury on Dionysius's party; but in particular they seized his spies, a set of wretches hated by gods and men, who went about the city to collect the sen- timents of the inhabitants, in order to communi- cate them to the tyrant. These were the first that suffered, being knocked down wherever they were met. When Timocrates found that he could not join the garrison in the citadel, he fled on horseback out of the city, and spread a general terror and dismay where he passed: magnifying all the while the forces of Dion, that it might not appear a slight effort, against which he was un- able to defend the place. Dion now made his public entry into the town: he was dressed in a magnificent suit of armor, his brother Megacles marching on the right hand, and Calippus, the Athenian, on the left, with gar- lands on their heads. He was followed by a hun- dred foreign soldiers, who were his body guard; and after these marched the rest of the army in proper order, under the conduct of their respective officers. The Syracusans looked upon this pro- cession as sacred. They considered it as the- tri- umphal entry of Liberty, which would once more establish the popular government, after a sup- pression of forty-eight years. When Dion entered at the Menitidian gate, silence was commanded by sound of trumpet, and he ordered freedom to be proclaimed to the Syracusans and the rest of the Sicilians, in the name of Dion and Megacles, who came to abolish tyranny. Being desirous to address the people in a speech, he inarched up to the Acradina. As he passed through the streets, the people prepared their victims on tables placed before their doors, scattered flowers on his head, and offered up their prayers to him, as to their tutelar deity. At the foot of the citadel, under the pentapylse, there * Diodorus says he was soon joined by 20,000, and tha when he reached Syracuse, he bad not fewer than 50,000- 616 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. was a lofty sundial,* which had been placed ! there by Dionysius. From the eminence of this I building lie addressed the citizens, and exhorted j them earnestly to assert their liberties. The peo- ple, in their turn, nominated Dion and his brother prajtors of the city, and at their request, appointed them twenty colleagues, half of whom were of those who returned with Dion from exile. At first it wus considered by the soothsayers as a good omen, that Dion, when he addressed the people, had under his feet the stately edifice which Dionysius had erected; but upon reflection that this edifice, on which he had been declared general, was a sundial, they were apprehensive that his present power and grandeur might be subject to decline. Dion, in the next place, took the castle of Epi- polae, released the prisoners who were confined* there, and invested it with a strong wall. Seven days after this event, Dionysius arrived from Italy, and entered the citadel from the sea. Dion, at the same time, received from Synalus the arms and ammunition he had left with him. These, he distributed among the citizens, as far as they would go; the rest armed themselves as well as they were able: and all expressed the utmost alacrity for the service. Dionysius, at first, sent agents in a private manner to Dion, to try what terms might be made with him. Dion refused to hear any overtures in private. The Syracusans, he told them, were now a free peo- ple; and what they had to offer must be addressed to them in public. Upon this he made specious proposals to the citizens, promised them an abate- ment of their taxes, and an exemption from serving in the wars, even though those wars should be undertaken by their own approbation. The Syracusans held these proposals in derision; and Dion answered, that it would be in vain for Dionysius to speak of terms without resigning, in the first place, the regal government; and that if he took this measure, he might depend on all the good offices so near a relation might be in- clined to do him; at least in everything that was just and reasonable. Dionysius seemed to con- sent to these terms; and again sent his agents to desire that a deputation of the Syracusans would attend him in the citadel, in order to settle arti- cles for the public tranquillity. He assured them that he had such to offer them as they could not but accept; and that, on the other hand, he was equally willing to come ijito such as they had to offer him. Dion, therefore, selected a number of the citizens for this deputation; and the gen- eral report from the citadel was, that Dionysius would resign his authority in a voluntary man- ner. This, however, was no more than a stratagem to amuse the Syracusans. The deputies no sooner arrived than they were imprisoned; and early next morning, after he had plied the mercenaries With wine, he ordered them to sally out and at- tack the wall which hud been built by Dion. This unexpected assault was carried on with great vigor by the barbarians. They broke through the works, and falling with great impetuosity, and loud shouts, on the Syracusans, soon put them to flight. Dion's foreign troops took the alarm, and hastened to their relief; but the precipitate flight of the citizens disordered their ranks, and rendered Phereevdes was the first who invented dials to mark tlie hour of the day, about three handred years after the time oi Homer. But, before his time, die Phoenicians had contrived a dial in the iile of Scyros, which described the solstice*. it difficult for them to give any effectual assist- ance. Dion perceiving that in this tumult, his orders could not be heard, instructed them by his example, and charged the thickest of the enemy. The battle, where he fought in person, was fierce and bloody. He was known to the enemy as well as to his own party; and they rushed with the ut- most violence to the quarter where he fought. His age, indeed, rendered him unfit for such an engagement, but he maintained the fight with great vigor, and cut in pieces many of the enemy that attacked him. At length he was wounded in the head with a lance; his shield was pierced through in many places with the darts and spears that were leveled against him; and his armor no longer re- sisting the blows he received in this close engage- ment, he fell to the ground. He was immediately carried off by his soldiers, and -leaving the com- mand to Timonides, he rode about the city to rally the fugitives. Soon after, he brought a detach- ment of foreign soldiers which he had left to guard the Acradina,as afresh reserve against the enemy. This, however, was unnecessary. They had placed their whole hopes of retaking the city in their first sally, and finding so powerful a resistance, fatigued with the action, they retreated into the citadel. As soon as they begun to fall back, the Greek soldiers bore hard upon them, and pursued them to the walls. Dion lost seventy-four men, and a very great number of the enemy fell in this action. The victory was so important that tlie Syracusans rewarded each of the foreign soldiers with a hundred minae, and Dion was presented by his army with a crown of gold. Soon after this, messengers came from Diony- sius, with letters to Dion from the women of his family. Beside these, there was one inscribed " Hipparinus to his father Dion." For this was the name of Dion's son. Timaeus says, indeed, that he was called Aretaeus, from his mother Arete; but I think credit is rather to he given to Timonides, who was his friend and fellow-soldier. The rest of the letters, which were read openly before the Syracusans, contained various solicita- tions and entreaties from the women. The letter, which appeared to come from Hipparinus, the people, out of respect to the father, would not have suffered to be opened in public; but Dion insisted that it should be so. It proved to be a letter from Dionysius himself, directed, indeed, to Dion, but in reality addressed to the people of Syracuse; for though it carried the air of request and apology, it had an obvious tendency to render Dion obnox- ious to the citizens. He reminded him of the zeal he had formerly shown of his service; he threaten- ed him through his dearest connections, his sister, his son, and his wife; and his menaces were fol- lowed by the most passionate entreaties, and the most abject lamentations. But the most trying part of his address was that where he entreated Dion not to destroy the government, and give that freedom to his inveterate enemies by means of which they would prosecute him to death, but to retain the regal power himself, for the protection of his family and friends. This letter did not produce those sentiments in the people which it should naturally have done. Instead of exciting admiration of that noble firm- ness and magnanimity, which could prefer the public utility to the tenderest private connections, it occasioned jealousies and fears. The people saw, or thought they saw, that Dion was under an absolute necessity of being favorable to Dionysius. They already began to wish for another general, and it was with peculiar satisfaction they heard of the arrival of Heraclides. This Heraclide^, who DION. 617 had been banished by the tyrant, had once a dis- tinguished command in the army, and was a man of considerable military abilities, but irresolute, inconstant, and particularly unsteady when he had a colleague in command. He had, sometime before, had a difference with Dion in Peloponne- sus, and therefore resolved on his own strength to make war on Dionysius. When he arrived at Syracuse, he found the tyrant close besieged, and the Syracnsans elated with their success. His first object, therefore, was to court the people, and for this purpose he had all the necessary talents; an insinuating address, and that kind of flattery which is so grateful to the multitude. This business was the more easy to him, as the forbidding gravity of Dion was thought too haugh- ty for a poyular state: beside, the Syracusans, al- ready insolent with success, assumed the spirit of a free people, though they had not, in reality, their freedom. Thus they convened themselves without any summons, and appointed Heraclides their admiral: indeed, when Dion remonstrated against that proceeding, and showed them that by thus constituting Heraclides admiral, they super- seded the office of general which they had before conferred on him, with some reluctance they de- prived Heraclides of the commission they had given him. When this affair was settled^ Dion invited Heraclides to his house, and gently expos- tulated with him on the impropriety of attending to a punctilio of honor, at a time when the least inattention to the common cause might be the ruin of the whole. He then called an assembly, ap- pointed Heraclides admiral, and prevailed with the citizens to allow him such a guard as they had before granted to himself. Heraclides treated Dion with all the appearance of respecl, acknow- ledged his obligations to him, and seemed atten- tive to his commands; but in private he corrupted the people, and encouraged a spirit of mutiny and dissatisfaction; so that Dion was involved in con- tinual disturbances and disquiet. If he advised that Dionysius should be permitted to make his re- treat in safety, he was censured as designing to favor and protect him; if, to avoid those suspicions, he was for continuing the siege, he was accused of protracting the war, that he might the longer retain his command, and keep the citizens in sub- jection. There was in the city one Sosis, infamous for his insolence and villany, who thought the perfec- tion of liberty was the licentiousness of speech. This fellow openly attacked Dion, and told the people in public assembly, that they had only changed the inattention of a drunken and disso- lute tyrant, for the crafty vigilance of a sober master. Immediately after this, he left the assem- bly, and next day was seen running naked through the streets, as if from somebody that pursued him, with his head and face covered with blood. In this condition he ran into the market-place, and told the people that he had been assaulted by Dion's foreign soldiers; at the same time showing them a wound in his head, which, he said, they had given him. Dion, upon this, was generally condemned, and accused of silencing the people by sanguinary methods; he came, however, before this irregular and tumultuous assembly in his own vindication, and made it appear, that this Sosis was brother to one of Dionysins's guards, and he had been en- gaged by him to raise a tumult in the city; the only resource the tyrant had now left, being that of exciting dissensions among the people. The surgeons also, who examined the wound, found that it was not occasioned by any violent blow. The wounds made by weapons are generally deep- est in the middle; but his was both superficial, and of an equal depth from one end to the other; be- side, being discontinuous, it did not appear to be the effect of one incision, but to have been made at different times, probably as he was best able to endure the pain. At the same time, there were some who deposed, that having seen Sosis running naked and wounded, and being informed by him, that he was flying from the pursuit of Dion's foreign soldiers who had just then wounded him, they hastened to take the pursuers; that, however, they could meet with no such persons, but found a razor lying under a hollow stone near the place from whence they had observed him come. All these circumstances made strongly against him* but when his own servants gave evidence, that he went out of his house alone before day-light, with a razor in his hand, Dion's accusers withdrew. The people, by a general vote, condemned Sosis to die, and were once more reconciled to Dion. Nevertheless their jealousy of his soldiers re- mained. And as the war was now principally carried on by sea, Philistus being come to the sup- port of Dionysius, with a considerable fleet from Japygia, they did not see the necessity of retain- ing in their service those Greeks who were no sea- men, and must depend for protection on the naval force. Their confidence in their own strength was likewise greatly increased by an advantage they had gained at sea against Philistus, whom they used in a very barbarous manner. Ephorus relates, that, after his ship was taken, he slew him- self. But Timouides, who attended Dion from the beginning of the war, writing to Speusippus, the philosopher, gives the story thus. Philistus's galley having run aground, he was taken orisoner alive; and after being disarmed and stripped, T vas exposed naked, though an old man, to every kind of insult. They afterward cut off his head, and odered their children to drag his body through the Acradina, and throw it into the quarry. Timeeus represents the indignity offered his remains to be still greater. The boys, he says, tied a rope about his lame leg, and so dragged him through the city, the Syracusans, in the meanwhile, exulting over his carcass, when they saw him tied by the leg who had said, It would ill become Dionysius to Jly from his throne by the swiftness of his horse, whick he ought never to quit until he was dragged from it by the heels. Philistus, however, tells us, that this was not said to Dionysius by himself, but by another. It is plain, at the same time, that Tima3us takes every occasion, from Philistus's known adherence to arbitrary power, to load him with the keenest reproaches. Those whom he injured are in some degree excusable, if, in their resentment, they treated him with indignities af- ter death. But wherefore should his biographers, whom he never injured, and who have had the benefit of his works; wherefore should they ex- hibit him with all the exaggerations of scurrility, in those scenes of distress to which fortune some- times reduces the best of men? On the other hand, Ephorus is no less extravagant in his en- comiums on Philistus. He knows well how to throw into shades the foibles of the human char- acter, and to give an air of plausibility to the most indefensible conduct; but, with all his eloquence. with all his art, he cannot rescue Philistus from the imputation of being the most strenuous as- sertor of arbitrary power, of being the fondest follower and admirer of the luxury, the magnifi- cence, the alliance of tyrants Upon the whole, he who neither defends the principles of Philistus, nor exults over his misfortunes, will best dis- charge the duty of the historian. 518 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. After the death of Philistus, Dionysius offered to surrender the citadel to Dion, together with the arms, provisions, and soldiers, and an advance of five months' pay, on condition that he might be permitted to retire into Italy, and there enjoy the revenue of Gyata, a fruitful tract of country in the territory of Syracuse, reaching from the sea to the middle of the country. Dion refusing to negotiate on his own account, referred the ambas- sadors to the Syracusans; and as they expected that Dionysius would shortly come alive into their hands, they were dismissed without audience. Upon this, the tyrant, leaving his eldest son Apollocrates to defend the citadel, embarked with his most valuable treasures and a few select friends, and sailing with a fair wind, escaped Heraclidefe me aaimrdl. The tyrant's escape greatly exasperated the people against Heraclides; and, in order to ap- pease them, he proposed by Hippo, one of the orators, that there should be an equal division of lands; alleging, that equality was the first foun- dation of civil liberty, and that poverty and sla- very were synonymous terms. At the same time that he supported Hippo in the promotion of this scheme, he encouraged the faction against Dion, who opposed it. At length he prevailed with the people not only to pass this law, but to make a decree, that the pay of the foreign soldiers should he stopped, and new commanders chosen, that they might no longer be subject to the severe dis- cipline of Dion. Thus, like the patient, who, after a lingering sickness, makes too rash a use of the first returns of health, and rejects the sober and gradual regimen of his physician, the citi- zens, who had long labored under the yoke of slavery, took too precipitate steps to freedom, and refused the salutary counsels and conduct of their deliverer. It was about the midst of summer when the assembly was summoned for the election of new officers; and, for the space of fifteen days, there were the most dreadful thunders, and the most alarming prodigies. The religious fears that these prodigies excited, made these people decline the choosing of officers. When the weather grew more serene, the orators again exhorted them to proceed to the business; but no sooner had they begun, than a draught-ox, which had neither received any provocation from the driver, nor could be terrified by the crowds and noise to which he had been accustomed, suddenly broke from his yoke, and running furiously into the as- sembly, drove the people in great disorder before him: from thence, throwing down all that stood in his way, he ran over that part of the city which afterward fell into the enemy's hands. The Syracusans, however, regardless of these things, elected five-and-twenty officers, among whom was Heraclides. At the, same time they privately endeavored to draw off Dion's men; promising, if they would desert him, to make them citizens of Syracuse. But the soldiers were faithful to their general, and placing him in the middle of a battalion, marched out of the city. They did not, on this occasion, offer any violence to the inhabitants, but they severely re- proached them for their baseness and ingratitude. The smallness of their number, and their declin- ing to act offensively, put the citizens on the view of cutting them off before they escaped out of the city; and with this design they fell upon their rear. Dion was here in a great dilemma: he was under the necessity either of fighting against his countrymen, or of suffering himself and his faithful soldiers to be cut in pieces. He there- fore entreated the Syracusans to desist: he stretch- ed forth his hands to them, and pointed to the citadel full of soldiers, who were happy in being spectators of these dissensions among their ene- mies. But the torrent of the populace, agitated and driven forward by the seditious breath of the orators, was not to be stopped by persuasion. He, therefore, commanded his men to advance with shouts and clashing of arms, out not to attack them. The Syracusans, upon this, fled immedi- ately through the streets, though no one pursued them, for Dion retreated with his men into the territories of the Leontines. The very women laughed at the new officers for this cowardly flight; and the latter, to recover their reputation, ordered the citizens to arms, pursued Dion, and came up with him as he was passing a river. A skirmish began between the cavalry; but when they found Dion no longer disposed to bear these indignities with his usual paternal patience ; when they observed him drawing up his men for battle, with all the eager- ness of strong resentment, they once more turn- ed their backs, and, with the loss of some few men, fled to the city in a more disgraceful and more cowardly manner than before. The Leontines received Dion in a very honor- able manner, gave money to his soldiers, and made them free of their city. They also sent nessengers to Syracuse with requisitions, that his men might have justice done them, and receive their pay. The Syracusans, in return, sent other messengers, with impeachments against Dion: but when the matter was debated at Leontium, in full assembly of the allies, they evidently appear- ed to be in fault. They refused, nevertheless; to stand to the award of this assembly; for the recent recovery of their liberties had made them inso- ent, and the popular power was without control; their very commanders being no more than ser- vile dependents on the multitude. About this time, Dionysius sent a fleet under Nypsius, the Neapolitan, with provisions and pay 'or the garrison in the citadel. The Syracusans overcame him, and took four of his ships; but hey made an ill use of their success. Destitute of all discipline, they celebrated the victory with the most riotous extravagance ; and at a time when they thought themselves secure of taking he citadel, they lost the city. Nypsius observing their disorder, their night revels and debauches, n which their commanders, either from inclina- tion, or through fear of offending them, were as deeply engaged as themselves, took advantage of this opportunity, broke through their walls, and exposed the city to the violence and depredation of his soldiers. The Syracusans at once perceived their folly and their misfortune: but the latter, in their resent confusion, was not easy to be redressed.^ The soldiers made dreadful havoc in the city: hey demolished the fortifications, put the men to he sword, and dragged the women and children shrieking to the citadel. The Syracusan officers >eing unable to separate the citizens from the en- emy, or to draw them up in any order, gave up all for lost. In this situation, while the Acradina tself was in danger of being taken, they natu- rally turned their thoughts on Dion: but none had he courage to mention a man whom all had in- jured. In this emergency a voice was heard rom the cavalry of the allies, crying, " Send for )ion and his Peloponnesians from Leontium."- iis name was no sooner mentioned than the peo- >le shouted for joy. With tears they implored hat he might once more be at their head: they DION 619 remembered his intrepidity in the most trying dan- gers: they remembered the courage that he showed himself, and the confidence with which he inspired them, when he led them against the enemy. Arch- onides and Telesides from the auxiliaries, and Hel- lanicus, with four more from the cavalry, were immediately dispatched to Loontium, where, making the best of their way, they arrived in the close of the evening. They instantly threw themselves at the feet of Dion, and related with tears, the deplorable condition of the Syracusans. The Leontines and Peloponnesians soon gathered about them, conjecturing from their haste, and the manner of their address, that their business had something extraordinary in it. Dion immediately summoned an assembly, and the people being soon collected, Archonides and Hellanicus briefly related the distress of the Sy- racusans, entreated the foreign soldiers to forget the injuries they had done them, and once more to assist that unfortunate people, who had already suffered more for their ingratitude than even they whom they had injured would have inflicted upon them. When they had thus spoken, a profound silence ensued; upon which Dion arose, and at- tempted to speak, but was prevented by his tears. His soldiers, who were greatly affected with their general's sorrow, entreated him to moderate his grief, and proceed. After he had recovered him- self a little, he spoke to the following purpose: " Peloponnesians and confederates, I have called you together, that you may consult on your res- pective affairs. My measures are taken: I can- not hesitate what to do when Syracuse is perish- ing. If I cannot save it, I will at least hasten thither, and fall beneath the ruins of my country. For you, if you can yet persuade yourselves to assist the most unfortunate and inconsiderate of men, it may be in your power to save from de- struction a city which was the work of your own hands.* But if your pity for the Syracusans be sacrificed to your resentment, may the gods re- ward your fidelity, your kindness to Dion! and remember, that as he would not desert you, when you were injured, so neither could he abandon his falling country!" He had hardly ended, when the soldiers signi- fied their readiness for the service by loud ac- clamations, and called upon him to march di- rectly to the relief of Syracuse. The messen- gers embraced them, and entreated the gods to shower their blessings on Dion and the Pelopon- nesians. When the noise subsided, Dion gave orders that the men should repair to their quar- ters, and, after the necessary refreshments, assem- ble in the same place completely armed; for he intended to march that very night. The soldiers of Dionysius, after ravaging the city during the whole day, retired at night with the loss of a few men, into the citadel. This small respite once more encouraged the dema- gogues of the city, who, presuming that the ene- my would not repeat their hostilities, dissuaded the people from admitting Dion and his foreign soldiers. They advised him not to give up the honor of saving the city to strangers, but to de- fend their liberty themselves. Upon this the generals sent other messengers to Dion to coun- termand his march; while, on the other hand, the cavairy and many of the principal citizens sent tneir requests that he would hasten it. Thus in- vited by one party, and rejected by another, he * Strabo says, that Syracuse was built in the second year of the eleventh Olympiad, by Archias of the Ilerac- idae, who came from Corinth to Syracuse. came forward but slowly; and, at night, the fac- tion that opposed him set a guard upon the gates to prevent his entering. Nypsius now made a fresh sally from the citadel, with still greater numbers and greater fury than be- fore. After totally demolishing the remaining part of the fortification, he fell to ravaging the city. The slaughter was dreadful; men, women, and children, fell indiscriminately by the sword; for the object of the enemy was not so much plunder as destruction. Dionysius despaired of regaining his lost empire, and, in his mortal ha- tred of the Syracusans, he determined to bury it in the ruins of their city. It was resolved, there- fore, that, before Dion's succors could arrive, they should destroy it the quickest way by laying it in ashes. Accordingly they set fire to those parts that were at hand by brands and torches; and to the remoter parts by shooting flaming ar- rows. The citizens, in the utmost consternation, fled everywhere before them. Those who, to avoid the fire, had fled from their houses, were put to the sword in the streets; and they who sought for refuge in their houses, were again driven out by the flames; many were burned to death, and many perished beneath the ruins of the houses. This terrible distress, by universal consent, opened the gates for Dion. After being informed that the enemy had retreated into the citadel, he made no great haste. But early in the morning some horsemen carried him the news of a fresh assault. These were followed by some, even of those who had recently opposed his coming, but who now implored him to fly to their relief. As the conflagration and destruction increased, Hera- elides dispatched his brother, and after him his uncle Theodotes, to entreat the assistance of Dion; for they were now no longer in a capacity of opposing the enemy; he was wounded him- self, and great part of the city was laid in ashes. When Dion received this news he was about sixty furlongs from the city. After he had ac- quainted his soldiers with the dreadful exigency, and exhorted them to behave with resolution, they no longer inarched, but ran; and in their way they were met by numbers, who entreated them if possible, to go still faster. By the eager and vigorous speed of the soldiers, Dion quickly arrived at the city; and, entering by the part called Hecatompedon, he ordered his light troops immediately to charge the enemy, that the Syra- cusans might take courage at the sight of them. In the meanwhile he drew up his heavy-armed men, with such of the citizens as had joined him, and divided them into several small bodies, of greater depth than breadth, that he might intimi- date the enemy by attacking them in several quar- ters at once. He advanced to the engagement at the head of his men, amidst a confused noise of shouts, plaudits, prayers, and vows, which the Syracusaus offered up for their deliverer, their tutelary deity, for so they termed him now; and his foreign soldiers they called their brethren and fellow-citizens. At this time, perhaps, there was not one wretch so selfishly fond of life that he did not hold Dion's safety dearer than his own, or that of his fellow-citizens, while, they saw hirn advancing first in the front of danger, through blood and fire, and over heaps of the slain. There was, indeed, something terrible in the appearance of the enemy, who, animated by rage and despair, had posted themselves in the ruins of the ramparts, so that it was extremely danger- ous and difficult to approach them. But the apprehensions of fire discouraged Dion's me 620 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ttie most, and distressed them in their march. They were surrounded by flames that raged on every side, and while they walked over burning ruins, through clouds of ashes and smoke, they were every moment in danger of being buried beneath the fall of half-consumed buildings. In all these difficulties they took infinite pains to keep close together, and maintain their ranks. When they came up to the enemy, a few only could engage at a time, on account of the nar- rowness and inequality of the ground. They fought, however, with great bravery, and, en- couraged by the acclamations of the citizens, at length they routed Nypsius, and most of his men escaped into the citadel, which was near at hand. Such of them as were dispersed and could not get in, were pursued and put to the sword. The present deplorable state of the city afforded neither time nor propriety for that joy and those con- gratulations which usually follow victory. All were busy in saving the remains of the confla- grations; and chough they labored hard during the whole night, it was with great difficulty the fire was extinguished. Not one orator of the popular faction durst any longer remain in the city. By their flight they at once confessed their guilt and avoided punish- ment. Heraclides, however, and Theodotes, sur- rendered themselves to Dion. They acknow- ledged their error, and entreated that he would not imitate them in the cruel treatment they had shown him. They forgot not to add how much it would be for his honor, who was unequaled in other virtues, to restrain his resentments; and, by forgiving the ungrateful, to testify that superior- ity of spirit for which they had contended with him. His friends, however, advised him by no means to pardon these factious and invidious men, but to give them up to his soldiers, and to rid the commonwealth of the ambition of demagogues, no less destructive than that of tyrants. Dion, on the other hand, endeavored to mitigate their re- sentments. " Other generals," said he, " employ themselves chiefly in military studies; but by being long conversant in the academy, I have learned to subdue my passions, and to restrain the impulses of enmity and anger. To prove that I have really gained such a victory over myself, it is not sufficient merely to be kind to men of virtue, but to be indulgent and reconcilable to the injuri- ous. If I have excelled Heraclides in military and political abilities, I am resolved not to be inferior to him in justice and clemency; since to nave the advantage in those is the first degree of excellence. The honors of conquest are never wholly our own; for though the conqueror may stand unrivaled, fortune will claim her share in the success. Hera- clides may be treacherous, invidious, and malicious; but must Dion, therefore, sully his glories by the indulgence of resentment? The laws, indeed, allow the revenge, of an injury to be more justifiable than the commission of it; but both proceed originally from the infirmity of human nature. Beside, there is hardly any malignity so inveterate, that it may not be overcome, by kindness, and softened by re- peated favors." Agreeably to these sentiments, Dion pardoned Heraclides and dismissed him. His first object was to repair the wall, which he had formerly erected around the citadel; and, for this purpose, he ordered each of the citizens to furnish a palisado, and bring it to the works. When they had done this, he sent them to their repose, and employed his own men the whole night in drawing a line of circumvallation around the citadel, which both the enemy and the citizens were astonished to find completed in the morning. After the dead were buried, and the prisoners, to the amount of two thousand, ransomed, he summoned an assembly. Heraclides moved that Dion should be declared commander-in-chief both at sea and land. This motion was approved by the nobility, and the commons were desired to confirm it; but the sailors and artificers opposed it in a tumultuous manner. They were unwilling that Heraclides should lose his command at sea; for though they had no good opinion of his prin- ciples, they knew that he would be more in- dulgent than Dion, and more ready to gratify their inclinations. Dion, therefore, gave up his point, and agreed that Heraclides should continue ad- miral. But when the equal distribution of lands was moved for, he opposed it, and repealed all the decrees which had formerly passed on the measure, by which means he once more incurred the dis- pleasure of the people. Heraclides again made his advantage of this, and harangued the soldiers and sailors at Messana, accusing Dion of a design to make himself absolute. At the same time he privately corresponded with Dionysius, by means of Pharax, a Spartan. When the nobility got in- telligence of this, there was a sedition in the army, and the city was greatly distressed by want of provisions. Dion was now at a loss what meas- ures to pursue; and all his friends condemned him for strengthening the hands of so perverse and in- vidious a wretch as Heraclides. Pharax was encamped at Neopolis, in the ter- ritory of Agrigenturn ; and Dion drew out the Syracusans, but not with an intent to engage him until he found a convenient opportunity. This gave Heraclides and his seamen an occasion of ex claiming, that he delayed fighting only that he might the longer continue in command. He "/as forced to action, therefore, contrary to his inclina- tion, and was beaten. His loss, indeed, was small, and his defeat was owing more to a misunder- standing in his own army, than to the superior courage of the enemy; he, therefore, resolved to renew the engagement, and, after animating and encouraging his men to redeem their lost credit, he drew them up in form of battle. In the even- ing, however, he received intelligence, that Hera- clides was sailing for Syracuse, with intent to possess himself of the city, and to shut him out. Upon this, he made a draught of the bravest and most active of the cavalry, and rode with such expedition that he reached the city by nine in the morning, after a march of seven hundred fur- longs. Heraclides, though he made all the sail he could, was too late, and he therefore tacked about, and stood out to sea. While he was unde- termined what course to steer, he met Gaesilus, the Spartan, who informed him, that he was sent to command in chief in Sicily, as Gylippus had done before. Heraclides immediately accepted him, and boasted to his allies that he had found in this Spartan an antidote to the power of Dion. At the same time he sent a herald to Syracuse, ordering the citizens to receive Gaesilus for their general. Dion answered, that the Syracusans had already a sufficient number of generals; and that, if it were necessary for them to have a Spar- tan, he was himself a citizen of Sparta. Gffisilus having now no hopes of the command, waited upon Dion, and, by his mediation, recon- ciled him to Heraclides. This reconciliation was confirmed by the most solemn oaths, and Gcesilus himself was guarantee of the treaty, and under- took to punish Heraclides in case of any future breach of faith. The Syracusans, upon this dis- charged their navy, as they found no advantage from it equal to the expense of keeping it on foot, DION 621 niul to those inconveniences it brought upon them, by being a continual source of seditions. At the same time they continued the siege, and invested the city witli another wall. As tile besieged were cut off fruin further supplies, when provisions failed, the soldiers began to mutiny, so that Apol- locrates found himself under a necessity of coin- ing to terms with Dion, and offered to deliver up the citadel to him, with all the arms and stores, on condition that he might have five galleys, and be permitted to retire in safety with his mother and sisters. Dion granted his request, and with these he sailed to Dicnysius. He was no sooner under sail, than the whole city of Syracuse assembled to behold the joyful eight. Their hearts were so full of this interesting event, that they even ex- pressed their anger against those who were ab- ?>ent, and could not be witnesses with what glory the sun that day rose upon Syracuse, delivered at last from the chains of slavery. As this flight of Dionysius was one of the most memorable vicis- situdes of fortune that is recorded in history, and as no tyranny was ever more effectually estab- lished than his, how great must their joy and their self-complacency have been after they had de- stroyed it by such inconsiderable means! When Apollocrates was gone, and Dion went to take possession of the citadel, the women could not wait until he entered, but ran to meet him at the gate. Aristomache came first, leading Dion's son, and Arete followed her in tears, fearful and apprehensive of meeting her husband after she had been so long in the possession of another. Dion first embraced his sister, then his son; after which Aristomache presented Arete to him, with this address: "Your banishment, Dion, made us all equally miserable. Your return and your suc- cess have made us all happy, except her whom I had the misfortune to see, by cruel compulsion, given to another, while you were yet alive. We are now entirely in your disposal; but how will you determine concerning this unhappy woman? and how must she salute you? As her uncle, or as her husband?" Dion was affected by this ten- der intercession, and wept. He embraced Arete with great affection, put his sou into her hands, and desired her to retire to his own house, where he purposed to reside; for the city he immediately delivered up to the Syracusans. All things had now succeeded to his wish: but tie, by no means sought to reap the first advan- tages of his good fortune. His first object was to gratify his friends, to reward his allies, and to give his fellow-citizens and foreign soldiers proper marks of his favor, in which his munificence even exceeded his abilities. As to himself he lived in a plain and frugal manner, which, on tins occasion in particular, was universally ad- mired. For, while the fame of his actions and the reputation of his valor was spread through Sicily and Greece, he seemed rather to live with Plate on the sparing simplicity of the academic life, than among soldiers who look upon every spe- cies of luxury as a compensation for the toils and dangers of war. Though P'ato himself wrote to him, that the eyes of the whole world were upon him, he seems not to have carried his attention bt-yond one particular part of one city, the acade- my. His judges in that society, he knew, would not so much regard the greatness of his perform- ances, his courage, or his victories, as that tem- per of mind with which he bore prosperity, and that moderation with which he sustained his hap- pier fortunes. He did not in the least relax the seventy of his manners: he kept the same reserve to the people, though condescension was, at this time, politically necessary; and though Plato, as we have already observed, had expostulated with him on this account, and told him, that austerity was the companion of solitude- He had certainly a natural antipathy to complaisance, and he had moreover a design, by his own example, to reform the manners of the Syracusans, which were become vain, dissolute and immodest. Hera- elides once more began to oppose him. Dion sent for him to attend at the council; and he made an- swer that he would not attend in any other capa- city than as a private citizen at a public Assem- bly. Soon after this, he impeached Dion of de- clining to demolish the citadel, and of preventing the people from opening the tomb of Dionysius, and dragging out the body. He accused him, likewise, of sending for counselors and ministers to Corinth, in contempt of his fellow-citizens. And it is true that he had engaged some Cor- inthians to assist him in settling his plan of gov- % ^eminent. His intention was to restrain the un- limited power of the popular administration (which cannot properly be called a government, but, as Plato terms it, a warehouse of governments),* and to establish the constitution on the Lacedemonian and Cretan plan. This was a mixture of the regal and popular governments, or rather an aris- tocracy. Dion knew that the Corinthians were governed chiefly by the nobility, and that Ihe in- fluence of the people rather interfered. He fore- saw that Heraclides would be no inconsiderable impediment to his scheme. He knew him to be factious, turbulent, and inconstant; and he there- fore gave him up to those who advised to kill him, . though he had before saved him out of their hands. Accordingly they broke into his house and mur- dered him. His death was at first resented by the citizens; but when Dion gave him a magnificent funeral, attended the dead body with his soldiers, and pronounced an oration to the people, their re- sentment went off. Indeed, they were sensible that the city would never be at peace while the competitions of Dion and Heraclides subsisted. Dion had a friend named Callippus, an Athenian, with whom he first became acquainted, not on account of his literary merit, but, according to Piato, because he happened to be introduced by him to some religious mysteries. He had always attended him in the army, and was in great es- teem. He was the first of his friends who march- ed along with him into Syracuse with a garland on his head, and he had distinguished himself in every aOion. This man, finding that Dion's chief friends bad fallen in the war; that, since the death of Heraolides the popular party was without a leader, and that he himself stood in great favor with the army, formed an execrable design against the lile of his benefactor. His object was certainly the supreme command in Sicily, though some say he was bribed to it with twenty talents. For this purpose he drew several of the soldiers into a conspiracy against Dion, and his plot wag conducted in the most artful manner. He con- stantly informed Dion of what he heard or pre- tended to hear, said against him in the army. By this meana he obtained such confidence, that he was allowed to converse privately with whom he j thought proper; and to speak with tiie utmost I freedom against Dion, that he might discover his secret enemies. Thus, in a short time, he drew about him all the seditious and discontented j citizens; and if any one of different principles informed Dion that hiu integrity had been tried, h<* Repub. 1. viii. 622 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. gave himself no concern about it, as that point had already been settled with Cailippus. While this conspiracy was on foot, Dion had a monstrous and dreadful apparition. As he was meditating one evening alone in the portico before his house, he heard a sudden noise, and, turning about, perceived (for it was not yet dark) a woman of gigantic size at the end of the portico, in the form of one of the furies, as they are rep- resented on the theater, sweeping the floor with a broom. In his terror and amazement he sent for some of his friends, and informing them of this prodigy, desired they would stay with him during the night. His mind was in the utmost disorder, and he was apprehensive, that, if they left him, the specter would appear again; but he saw it no more. Soon after this, his only son, who was now almost grown up to manhood, upon some childish displeasure, or frivolous affront, threw himself from the top of the house, and was killed upon the spot. While Dion was in this distress, Cailippus was ripening the conspiracy; and, for this purpose, he propagated a report in Syracuse, that Dion being now childless, had determined to adopt Apollo- crates, the sou of Dionysius, who was nephew to his wife, and grandson to his sister. The plot, however, was now suspected both by Dion, his wife, a&J sister. Dion, who had stained his honor, and tarnished his glories, by the murder of Hera- elides, had, as we may suppose, his anxieties on that account; and he would frequently declare, that rather than live, not only in fear of his ene- mies, but in suspicion of his friends, he would die a thousand deaths, and freely open his bosom to the assassin. When Cailippus found the women inquisitive and suspicious, he was afraid of the consequence, and asserted, with tears, his own integrity, offer- ing to give them any pledge of his fidelity they might desire. They required that he would take the great oath; the form of which is as follows: The person who takes it goes down into the temple of the Thes- mophori, where, after the performance of some religious ceremonies, he puts on the purple robe of Proserpine, and holding a flaming torch in his hand, proceeds on the oath. All this Cailippus did without hesitation; and to show in what con- tempt he held the goddess, he appointed the ex- ecution of his conspiracy on the day of her festival. Indeed, he could hardly think, that even this would enhance his guilt, or render him more obnoxious to the goddess, when he was the very person who had beiore initiated Dion in her sacred mysteries. The conspiracy was now supported by num- bers; and as Dion was surrounded by his friends, in the apartment wnere he usually entertained them, the conspirato.s invested the house, some securing the doors, and others, the windows. The assassins, who were Zacynthians, came in un- armed, in their ordinary dress. Those who re- mained without made fast the doors. The Zacyn- thians fell upon Dion, and endeavored to strangle him; but not succeeding in this, they called for a sword. No one, however, durst open the door, for Dion had many friends about him: yet they had, in effect, nothing to fear from thesej for each concluded, that, by giving up Dion, he should consult his own safety. When they had waited some time, Lycon, a Syracusan, put a short sword through the window into the hands of a Zacyn- thian, who fell upon Dion, already stunned and senseless, and cut his throat like a victim at the altar. His sister, and his wife, who was preg- nant, they imprisoned. In this unhappy situa- tion she fell in labor, and was delivered of a son, whom they ventured to preserve: for Caliippur was too much embroiled by his own affairs to at tend to them, and the keepers of the prison wen prevailed on to connive at it. After Dion was cut off, and Cailippus had th< whole government of Syracuse in his hands, h had the presumption to write to the Athenians, whom, after the gods, he ought of all others to have dreaded, polluted as he was with the murder of his benefactor. But it has been observed, with great truth, of that state, that its good men are the best, and its bad men the worst in the world: as the soil of Attica produces the finest honey and the most fatal poisons. The success of Cailippus did not long reproach the indulgence of the gods. He soon received the punishment he deserved; for, in attempting to take Cutana, he lost Syracuse; upon which occasion he said, that he had lost a city, and got a cheese-grater.* After- ward, at the siege of Messana, most of his men were cut off, and, among the rest the murderers of Dion. As he was refused admission by every city in Sicily, and universally hated and despised, he passed into Italy, and made himself master of Rhegium; but being no longer able to maintain his soldiers, he was slain by Leptines and Poly- perchon with the very same sword with which Dion had been assassinated: for it was known by the size (being short, like the Spartan swoHs) and by the curious workmanship. Thus Cailip- pus received the punishment due to his crimes. When Aristomache and Arete were released out of prison, they were received by Icetes, a Syra- cusan, a friend of Dion's, who for some time, entertained them with hospitality and good faith. Afterward, however, being prevailed on by the enemies of Dion, he put them on board a vessel, under pretense of sending them to the Pelopon- nesus; but privately ordered the sailors to kill them in the passage, and throw the bodies over- board. Others say, that they and the infant were thrown alive into the sea. This wretch too, paid the forfeit of his villany: for he was put to death by Timoleon: and the Syracusans, to revenge Dion, slew his two daughters: of which I have made more particular mention in the life of Timo- leon. * But the word which signifies a cheese-grater iu Greuk is not Catane, but Patane. MARCUS BRUTUS. 623 MAKCUS BRUTUS. THE great ancestor of Marcus Brutus was that Junius Brutus, to whom the ancient Romans erected a statue of brass, and placed it in the Capitol among their kings. He was represented with a drawn sword in his hand, to signify the spirit and firmness with which he vanquished the Tarquins: but, hard tempered like the steel of which that sword was composed, and in no de- gree humanized by education, the same obdurate severity which impelled him against the tyrant, shut up his natural affection from his children, when he found those children conspiring for the support of tyranny. On the contrary, that Bru- tus, whose life we are now writing, had all the advantages that arise from the cultivation of philosophy. To his spirit, which was naturally sedate and mild, he gave vigor and activity by constant application. Upon the whole, he was happily formed to virtue, both by nature and education. Even the partisans of Caesar ascrib- ed to him everything that had the appearance of honor or generosity in the conspiracy, and all that was of a contrary complexion they laid to the charge of Cassius; who was, indeed, the friend and relation of Brutus, but by no means resembled him in the simplicity of his manners. It is universally allowed, that his mother, Servilia, was descended from Servilius Ahala, who, when Maelius sedi- tiously aspired to ihe monarchy, went up to him in (.he forum, under a pretense of business, and, as Maelius inclined his head to hear what he would say, stabbed him with a dagger, which he had concealed for the purpose.* But the partisans of Cresar would not allow that he was descended from Junius Brutus, whose family, they said, was extinct with his two sons.f Marcus Brutus, ac- cording to them, was a plebeian, descended from one Brutus, H steward, of mean extraction; and that the family had but lately risen to any dignity in the state. On the contrary, Posidonius the philosopher, agrees with those historians, who say, that Junius Brutus had a third son, who was an infant when his brothers were put to death, and that Marcus Brutus was descended from him. He further tells us, that there were several illus- trious persons oi' that family in his time, with whom he was well acquainted, and who very much resembled the statue of Junius Brutus.J Cato, the philosopher, was brother to Servilia, the mother of Brutus, who greatly admired and imitated the virtues of his uncle, and married his daughter Porcia. Brutus was acquainted with all the sects of the Greek philosophers, and understood their doc- trines; but the Platonists stood highest in his es- teem. He had no great opinion either of the new or of the middle academy; but applied himself wholly to the studies of the ancient. Antiochus, * Livy, and other historians relate this affair differently. Some of them say confidently, that Servilins, who was then general of the horse, put Mselius to death, by order of Cincinnatns the dictator. t Of this number is Dionysius of Halicarnassns. J There were several distinguished persons of this family in the year of Rome 558: some of whom opposed the abro"- jation of the Oppian law, and were besieged by the Ro- man women in their houses. Livy 1. xxxiv. Val. Max. of Ascalon, was, therefore, his favorite, and he en- tertained his brother Ariston in his own house; a man, who, though inferior to some of the phi- losophers in learning, was equal to the first of them in modesty, prudence, and gentleness of manners. Empylus, who likewise lived with Brutus, as we find in his own epistles, and in those of his friends, was an orator, and left a short, but a well written narrative of the death of Caesar, entitled Brutus. Brutus spoke with great ability in Latin, both in the field and at the bar. In Greek he affected the sententious and laconic way. There are several instances of this in his epistles. Thus, in the beginning of the war, he wrote to the Parmagenians : "I hear you have given money to Dolabella. If you gave it willingly, you must own you injured rne; if unwillingly, show it by giving willingly to me." Thus, on another oc- casion, to the Samians: "Your deliberations are tedious; your actions slow; what think you; will be the consequence." Of the Patareans thus: "The Xanthians rejected my kindness, and des- perately made their country their grave. The Patareans confided in me, and retained their lib- erty. It is in your own choice to imitate the prudence of the Patarenans, or to suffer the fate of the Xanthians." And such is the style of his most remarkable letters. While he was yet very young, he accompanied Cato to Cyprus, in the expedition against Pto- lemy. After Ptolemy had killed himself, Cato, being detained by business in the isle of Rhodes, sent Caninius to secure the king's treasure; hut suspecting his fidelity, he wrote to Brutus to sail immediately to Cyprus from Pamphilia; where, after a fit of sickness, he staid for the re-estab- lishment of his health. He obeyed the order with reluctance, both out of respect to Caninius, who was superseded with disgrace, and because he thought the employment illiberal, and by no means proper for a young man who was in pur- suit of philosophy. Nevertheless he executed the commission with such diligence that he had the approbation of Cato; and having turned the ef- fects of Ptolemy into ready money, he brought the greatest part of it to Rome. When Rome was divided into two factions, and Pompey and Caesar were in arms against each other, it was generally believed that Brutus would join Caesar, because his father had been put to death by Pompey. However, he thought it his duty to sacrifice his resentments to the interest of hiscountry; and judging Pompey's to be the bet- ter cause, he joined his party; though before, he would not even salute Pompey when he met him; esteeming it a crime to have any conversation with the murderer of his father. He now look- ed upon him as the head of the commonwealth; j and, therefore, listing under his banner, lie sailed j for Sicily in quality of lieutenant to Sestius, who . was governor of the island. There, however, lie ! found no opportunity to distinguish himself; and i being informed that Pompey and Cagsar were en- ; camped near each other, and preparing for that i battle on which the whole empire depended, he I went voluntarily into Macedonia to have his 624 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. share in the danger. Pompey, it is said, was so much surprised and pleased with his coming, that he rose to embrace him in the presence of his guards, and treated him with as much respect as if lie had been his superior. During the time that he was in camp, those hours that he did not spend with Pompey he employed in reading and study; and thus he passed the day before the battle of Pharsalia. It was the middle of summer, the heats were intense, the marshy situation of the camp disagreeable, and his tent-bearers were long incoming. Nevertheless, though extremely ha- rassed and fatigued, he did not anoint himself un- til noon: and then, taking a morsel of bread, while others were at rest, or musing on the event of the ensuing day, he employed himself until the evening in writing an epitome of Poly- bius. Caesar, it is said, had so high an esteem for him, that he ordered his officers by all means to save him, if he would surrender himself; and, if he refused, to let him escape with his life. Some have placed this kindness to the account of Ser- vilia. the mother of Brutus, with whom Ca3sar had connections of a tender nature in the early part of his life.* Beside, as this amour was in full bloom about the time when Brutus was born, Caesar had some reason to believe he might be his son. The intrigue was notorious. When the senate was debating on the dangerous conspiracy of Catiline, Cato and Caesar, who took different sides of the question, happened to sit near each other. In the midst of the business, a note was brought to Caesar from without, which he read silently to himself. Cato, hereupon loudly accus- ed Caesar of receiving letters from the enemies of the commonwealth: and Caesar, finding that it had occasioned a disturbance in the senate, deliv- ered the note to Cato as he had received it. Cato, when he found it to be nothing but a lewd letter, from his own sister Servilia, threw it back again to Caesar. " Take it, you sot," said he, and went on with the public business. After the battle of Pharsalia, when Pompey was fled toward the sea, and Caesar was storming the camp, Brutus escaped through one of the gates, and fled into a watery marsh, where he hid himself among the reeds. From thence he ven- tured out in the night, and got safe to Larissa. From Larissa he wrote to Caesar, who expressed the greatest pleasure in hearing of his safety, sent for him, and entertained him among the first of his friends. When no one could give account which way Pompey was fled, Caesar walked for some time alone with Brutus, to consult his opin- ion; and finding that it was for Egypt, he reject- ed the opinions of the rest, and directed his march for that country. Pompey had, indeed, taken the route of Egypt, as Brutus conjeciured; but he had already met his fate. Brutus had so much influence with Caesar that he reconciled him to his friend Cassius; and when he spoke in behalf of the kinjr of Africa, though there were many impeachments against him, he obtained for him a great part of his kingdom.! When he first began to speak on this occasion, Caesar said, " I know not what this 'These connections wore well known. Csesar made tier a present, on a certain occasion, of a pearl which cost him near 50,()()0/. In the civil wars, he assigned to her a confiscated estate for a mere trifle; and when the people expressed their surprise at its cheapness, Cicero said hu- morously, Qwo me tins emptam sciatis, tertia deduct a est. Tertia was a daughter of Servilia's, and deducta was a term in the procuring business. t Plutarch must here be mistaken. It w a s Diotaros and not the king of Africa, that Brutus pleaded for. young man intends, but whatever it is, he intends it strongly." His mind was steady, and not eas- ily moved by entreaties. His principles were reason and honor, and virtue; and the ends to which these directed him he prosecuted w^th so much'vigor that he seldom failed of success. No flattery could induce him to attend to unjust peti- tions; and though that ductility of mind which may be wrought upon by the impudence of im- portunity is by some called good nature, he con- sidered it as the greatest disgrace. He used to say, that he suspected those who could refuse no favors, had not very honestly employed the flower of their youth. Caesar, previously to his expedition into Africa against Cato and Scipio, appointed Brutus to the government of Gallio Cisalpina. And this was very fortunate for that particular province. For while the inhabitants of other provinces were op- pressed, and treated like slaves, by the violence and rapacity of their governors, Brutus behaved with so much kindness to the people under his jurisdiction, that they were in some measure in- demnified for their former sufferings. Yet he as* cribed everything to the goodness of Caesar; and it was no small gratification to the latter to find, on his return through Italy, not only Brutus him- self, but all the cities under his command, ready to attend his progress, and industrious to do him honor. As there were several praetorships vacant, it was the general opinion, that the chief of them, which is the praetorship of the city, would be con- ferred either on Brutus or on Cassius. Some say, that this competition hightened the variance that had already taken place between Brutus and Cassius; for there was a misunderstanding between them, though Cassius was allied to Brutus by marrying his sister Junia. Others say, that this competition was a political maneuver of Caesar's, who had encouraged it by favoring both their hopes in private. Be that as it may, Brutus had little more than the reputation of his virtue to set against the gallant actions performed by Cassius in the Parthian war. Caesar weighed the merits of each; and after consulting with his friends, "Cassius," he said, "has the better title to it, notwithstanding Brutus must have the first prss- torship." Another praetorship was, therefore given to Cassius: but he was not so much oblig- ed by this as offended by the loss of the first. Brutus had, or at least might have had, equal in- fluence with Caesar in everything else: he might have stood the first in authority and interest, but he was drawn off by Cassius's party. Not that he was perfectly reconciled to Cassius since the competition for the preetonal appointments; but he listened to his friends, who were perpetually advising him not to be soothed or cajoled by Cae- sar ; but to reject the civilities of a tyrant, whose object was not to reward, but to disarm his virtue. On the other hand, Caesar had his suspi- cions, and Brutus his accusers; yet the former thought he had less to fear from his spirit, bis authority, and his connections, than he had to hope from his honesty. When he was told that Antony and Dolabella had some dangerous con- spiracy on foot, " It is not," said he, " the sleek and fat men that I fear, but the pale and tho lean;" meaning Brutus and Cassius. Afterward when he was advised to beware of Brutus, he laid his hand upon his breast and said, " Do not you think, then, that Brutus will wait until I have done with this poor body?" As if he thought Brutus the only proper person to succeed him in his immense power. Indeed it is extremely prob MARCUS BRUTUS. 625 able that Brutus would have ben the first man in Rome, could lie have had patience awhile to be the second, and have waited until time had wasted the power of Caesar, and dimmed the lus- ter of his great actions. But Cassias, a man of violent passions and an enemy to Caesar, rather from personal than political hatred, still urged him against the dictator. It was universally said, that Brutus hated the imperial power, and that Cassias hated the emperor. Cassias, indeed, pretended that Caesar had injured him He com- plained that the lions which he had procured when he was nominated sedile, and whicli he had sent to Megai-a, Cresar had taken and converted to his own use having found them there when that city was taken hy Calanus. Those lions, it Is said, were very fatal to the inhabitants; for as soon as their city was taken, they opened their dens and unchained them in the streets, that they might stop the irruption of the enemy; but in- stead of that they fell upon the citizens, and tore them in such a manner that their very enemies were struck with horror. Some say that this was the principal motive with Cassias for conspiring against Caesar; but they are strangely mistaken. Cassias had a natural aversion to the whole race of tyrants, which he showed even when he was at school with Faustus the son of Sylla. When Faustus was boasting among the boys of the unlimited power of his father, Cassius rose and struck him on the face. The friends and tutors of Faustus would have taken upon themselves to punish the insult; but Pompey prevented it, and, sending for the boys, examined them himself. Upon which Cassius said," Come along, Faustus! repeat, if you dare, before Pompey, the expressions which provoked me, that I may punish you in the same manner." Such was the disposition of Cassius. But Brutus was animated to this undertaking by the persuasion of his friends, by private inti- mations and anonymous letters. Under the statue of his ancestor, who destroyed the Tarquins, was placed a paper with these words: O that we had a Brutus noiK? O that Brutus were now alive! His own tribunal on which he sat as praetor, was continually filled with such inscriptions as these: Brutus, tfiou sleepest! Thou art not a true Bru- tus! The sycophants of Caesar were the occa- sion of this; for, among other invidious distinc- tions which they paid him, they crowned his stat- ues by night, that the people might salute him king, instead of dictator. However, it had a con- trary effect, as I have shown more at large in the life of Caesar. When Cassius solicited his friends to engage in the conspiracy, they all consented, on condition that Brutus would take the lead. They conclud- ed that it was not strength of hands, or resolu- tion, that they wanted, but the countenance of a man of reputation, to preside at this sacrifice, and to justify th<?deed. They were sensible that, wi thout him,they should neither proceed with spirit, nor escape suspicion when they had effected their purpose. The world, they knew, would con- clude, that if the action had been honorable, Bru- tus would not have refused to engage in it. Cas- sius having considered these things, determined to pay Brutus the first visit after the quarrel had been between them; and as soon as the. compli- ments of reconciliation were over, he asked him, 'Whether he intended to be in the senate on the calends of March; for it was reported," he said, " that Ccesar's friends designed to move that he should be declared king/*' Brutus answered, 'He should not be there^^afnd Cassias replied, "But what if they should send for us?" "It 40 would then," said Brutus, "be my duty, not only to speak against it, but to sacrifice my life for the liberties of Rome." Cassius, encouraged by this, proceeded: " But what Roman will bear to see you die? Do not you know yourself, Brutus? Think you that those inscriptions you found on your tribunal were placed there by weavers and victualers, and not by the first men in Rome? From other praetors they look for presents, and shows, and gladiators; but from you they expect the abolition of tyranny, as a debt which your family has entailed upon you. They are ready to suffer everything on your account, if you are really what you ought, and what they expect you to be." After this he embraced Brutus, and being perfectly reconciled, they retired to their respective friends. In Pompey's party there was one Qu-intus Li- garius, whom Ceesar had pardoned, though he had borne arms against him. This man, less grateful for the pardon he had received, than offended with the powers which made him stand in need of it, hated Caesar, but was the intimate friend of Bru- tus. The latter one day visited him, and finding him not well, said, " Ligarius! what a time is this to be sick?" Upon which he raised himself on his elbow, and taking Brutus by the hand, an- swered, " If Brutus has any design worthy of him- self, Ligarius is well." They now tried the inclina- tion of all they could trust, and took into the conspiracy, not only their familiar friends, but such as they knew to be brave, and above the fear of death. For this reason, though they had the greatest regard for Cicero, and the ulmosti confi- dence in his principles as a republican, tl.ey con- cealed the conspiracy from him, lest his natural timidity, and the weariness of age, should retard those measures which required the most resolute dispatch. Brutus likewise thought proper to leave his friends, Statilins and Favonius, the followers of Cato, out of the conspiracy. He had tried their sentiments, under the color of a philosophical dis- pute; in which Favonius observed, that the worst absolute government was preferable to a civil war: and Statilius added, that it became no wise man to expose himself to fear and danger, on account of the faults and follies of others. But Labeo, who was present, contradicted both. And Brutus, though he was then silent, as if the dispute had been difficult to determine, afterward communicated the design to Labeo, who readily concurred in it. It was then agreed to gain over the other Brutus, surnamed Aibinus, who though not distinguished by his personal courage, was of consequence, on account of the great number of gladiators he bred for the public shows, and the entire confidence that Cassar placed in him. To the solicitations of Cassius and Labeo he made no answer; but whea he came privately to Brutus, and found that he was at the head of the conspiracy, he made no scru- ple of joining them. The name of Brutus drew iu many more of the most considerable persons of the state; and though they had entered into an oath of secrecy, they kept the design so close, that, notwithstanding the gods themselves de- nounced the event by a variety of prodigies, no one. would give credit to the conspiracy. Brutus now felt his consequence lie heavy upon him. The safety of some of the greatest men in Rome depended on his conduct, and he could not think of the danger they were to encounter with- out anxiety. In public, indeed, he suppressed his uneasiness: but at home, and especially by night, tie was not the same man. Sometimes he would start from his sleep; at others, he was totally i- 626 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. mersed in thought. From which, and the like cir- cumstances, it was obvious to his wife, that he was revolving in his mind some difficult and danger- ous enterprise. Porcia, as we before observed, was the daughter of Cato. She wits married to her cousin Brutus very young, though she was a widow, and had a son, named Bibulus, after his i'ather. There is a small tract of his still extant, called Memoirs of Brutus. Porcia added to the affection of a wife the prudence of a woman who was not unacquainted with philosophy; and she resolved not to inquire into her husband's secrets before she had made the following trial of her own firmness. She ordered all her attendants out of her apartment, and, with a small knife, gave her- self a deep wound in the thigh. This occasioned a great effusion of blood, extreme pain, and a fever in consequence of that pain. Brutus was extremely afflicted for her, and as he attended her, in the hight of her pain, she thus spoke to him: "Bru- tus, when you married the daughter of Cato, you did not, I presume, consider her merely as a fe- male companion, but as the partner of your for- tunes. You indeed, have given me no reason to repent my marriage; but what proof, either of affection or fidelity, can you receive from me, if I may neither share in your secret griefs nor in your secret councils! I am sensible that secrecy is not the characteristic virtue of my sex. but surely our natural weakness may be strengthened by a virtuous education, and by honorable connections; ajid Porcia can boast that she is the daughter of Cato, and the wife of Brutus. Yet even in these dis- tinctions I placed no absolute confidence, until I tried, and found that I was proof against pain." When she said this, she showed him her wound, and informed him of her motives: upon which Brutus was so struck with her magnanimity, that with lifted hands, lie entreated the goc-i to favor his enterprise;, and enable him to approve himself worthy of Por- cia. He then took every means to cure her wound, and restore her health. A meeting of the senate being appointed, at which Caesar was expected to attend, that was thought a proper time for the execution of their design. For then they could not only appear to- gether without suspicion, but as some of the most considerable persons in the commonwealth would be present, they flattered themselves that, as soon as the deed was done, they would join in asserting the common liberty. The place, too, where the senate was to meet, seemed providentially favor- able for their purpose. It was a portico adjoin- ing to the theater, and in the midst of a saloon, furnished with benches, stood a statue of Pompey, which had been erected to him by the common- wealth, when he adorned that part of the city with those buildings. Here the senate was convened on the ides of March; and it seemed as if some god should bring Caesar to this place to revenge upon him the death of Pompey. When the day came, Brutus went out, and took with him a dagger, which last circumstance was known only to his wife. The rest met at the ; house of Cassius, and conducted his son, who was that day to put on the toga virilis, to the forum: from whence they proceeded to Pornpey's portico, and waited for Caesar. Any one that" had been privy to the design of the conspirators, would here have been astonished at their cairn and consistent firmness. Many of them were praetors, and oblig- ed by their office to hear and determine causes. These they heard with so much calmness, and de- cided- with so much accuracy, that one could not nave supposed there had been anything else upon lieir minds; and when a certain person appealed [ from the judgment of Brutus to Caesar, Brutus i looking round on the assembly, said, Casar neitkvt \ does, nor shall hinder me from acting agreeably to I the laws. Nevertheless they were disturbed by many accidents. Though the day was far spent, still Caesar did not come, being detained by his wife and the soothsayers, on account of defects in the sacrifices. In the meantime a person came up to Casca, one of the conspirators, and taking him by the hand, "You concealed the thing from me, " said he, " but Brutus has told me all." Casca expressed his surprise; upon which the other said, laughing, "How came you to be so rich on a sudden, as to stand for the redileship;" so neai was the grea"t secret being blown by the ambigui- ty of this man's discourse! at the same time Pop- ilius Laana, a senator, after saluting Brutus and Cassius in a very obliging manner, said, in a whis- per, " My best wishes are with you; but make no delay; for it is now no secret." After saying this, he immediately went away, and left them in a great consternation; for they concluded that everything was discovered. Soon after this, a messenger came running from Brutus's house, and told him that his wife was dying. Porcia had been under extreme anxiety, and in great agita- tions about the event. At every little noise or voice she heard, she started up, and ran to the door, like one of the frantic priestesses of Bacchus, inquiring of every one that came from the forum, what Brutus was doing. She sent messenger after messenger to make the same inquiries; and being unable any longer to support the agitation? of her mind, she at length fainted away. She had not time to retire to her chamber. As she sat in the middle of the house, her spirits failed, her color change ', and she lost her senses and her speech. Her women shrieked, the neighbors ran to their assistance, and a report was soon spread through the city, that Porcia was dead. However, by the care of those that were about her, she recovered in a little time. Brutus was greatly distressed with the news, and not without reason; but his private grief gave way to the public concern; for it was now reported that Ca3sar was coining in a litter. The ill omen of his sacrifices had deterred him from entering on business of importance, and he proposed to defer it under a pretense of indisposi- tion. As soon as ho came out of the litter, Pop- ilius Loena who a little before had wished Brutus success, went up, and spoke to him for a consid- erable time, Coesar all the while standing, and seeming very attentive. The conspirators not being able to hear what he said, suspected from- what passed between him and Brutus, that he was now making a discovery of their design. This disconcerted them extremely, and looking upon each other, they agreed, by the silent language of the countenance, that they should not stay to be taken, but dispatch themselves. With this intent. Cassius and some others were just about to draw their daggers from under their robes, when Bra- tus, observing from the looks and gestures of La?na, that he was petitioning and not accusing, encouraged Cassius by the cheerfulness of his countenance. This was the only way by which he could communicate his sentiments, being sur- rounded by many who were strangers to the con- spiracy. . Lffina, after a little while kissed Caesar's hand, and left him; and it plainly appeared, upon the wholcj that he had been speaking about his own affair. The senate was already seated, and the con- spirators got close about Cffisar's chair, under a pretense of preferring a suit to him. Caw'us turned his face to Pompey's statue, antf invoked MARCUS BRUTUS. 627 It, as if it had been sensible of his prayers. Tre- bonius kept Antony in conversation without the court. And now Caesar entered, and the whole senate rose to salute him. The conspirators crowded around him, and set Tullius Cimber, one of their number, to solicit the recall of his brother, who was banished. They ail united in the soli- citation, took hold of Cresar's hand, and kissed his head and his breast. He rejected their applications, and finding that they would not desist, at length rose from his seat in anger. Tullius, upon this, laid hold of his robe, and pulled it from his shoulders. Casca, who stood behind, gave him the first, though but a slight wound with his dagger, near the shoulder. Cassar caught the handle of the dagger and said in Latin, "Villain! Casca! What dost thou mean?" Casca, in Greek, called his brother to his assistance. Caesar was wounded by numbers almost at the same instant, and look- ed round him for some way to escape; but when he saw the dagger of Brutus pointed against him, he let go Casca's hand, and covering his head with his robe, resigned himself to their swords. The conspirators pressed so eagerly to stab him, that they wounded each other. Brutus, in at- tempting to have his share in the sacrifice, receiv- ed a wound in his hand, and all of them were covered with blood. Caesar thus slain, Brutus stepped forward into the middle of the senate-house, and proposing to make a speech, desired the senators to stay. They fled, however, with the utmost precipitation, though no one pursued; for the conspirators had no design on any life but Caesar's; and, that taken away, they invited the rest to liberty. In- deed, all but Brutus were of opinion that Antony should fall with Caesar. They considered him as an insolent man, who, in his principles, favored monarchy; and who had made himself popular in the army. Moreover, beside his natural disposi- tion to despotism, he had at this time the consu- lar power, and was the colleague of Caesar. Bru- tus, on the other hand, alleged the injustice of such a measure, and suggested the possibility of Antony's change of principle. He thought it far from being improbable, that, after the destruc- tion of Csesar, a man so passionately fond of glo- ry, should be inspired by an emulation to join in restoring the commonwealth. Thus Antony was saved; though, in the general consternation, he fled in the disguise of a plebeian. Brutus and his party betook themselves to the Capitol; and showing their bloody hands and naked swords, proclaimed liberty to the people as they passed. At. first all was lamentation, distraction and tu- mult: but as no further violence was committed, the senators and the people recovered their ap- prehensions, and went in a body to the conspira- tors in the Capitol. Brutus made a popular speech adapted to the occasion; and this being well received, the conspirators were encouraged to come down into the forum. The rest were un- distinguished; but persons of the first quality at- tended Brutus, conducted him with great honoi from the Capitol, and placed him in the rostrum. At the sight of Brutus, the populace, though disposed to tumult, were struck with reverence: and when he began to speak, they attended with silence. It soon appeared, however, that it was not the action, but the man, they respected; for when China spoke, and accused Caesar, they loaded him with the most opprobrious lan- guage; and became so outrageous that the con- spirators thought proper once more to retire into the Capitol. Brutus now expected to be besieged, and therefore dismissed the principal people that attended him; because he thought it unreason- able that they who had no concern in the action should be exposed to the danger that followed it. Next day, the senate assembled in the temple of Tellus, and Antony, Plancus, and Cicero, in their respective speeches, persuaded and prevailed on the people to forget what was passed. Ac- cordingly the conspirators were not only par- doned, but it was decreed that the consuls should take into consideration what honors and digni- ties were proper to be conferred upon them. After this the senate broke up; and Antony, having sent his son as an hostage to the Capitol, Brutus and his party came down, and mutual compliments passed between them. Cassius was invited to sup with Antony, Brutus with Lepi- dus, and the rest were entertained by their re- spective friends. Early next morning, the senate assembled again, and voted thanks to Antony for preventing a civil war, as well as to Brutus and his party for their services to the commonwealth. The latter had also provinces distributed among them. Crete was allotted to Brutus, Africa to Cassius, Asia to Trebonius, Bithynia to Cimber, and the other Bru- tus had that part of Gaul which lies upon the Po. Caesar's will, and his funeral came next in ques- tion. Antony proposed that the will should be read in public; and that the funeral should not be private, or without proper magnificence, lest such treatment should exasperate the people. Cassius strongly opposed this: but Brutus agreed to it, and here he fell into a second error. Hia preservation of so formidable an enemy as Antony, was a mistaken thing; but his giving up the man. agement of Caesar's funeral to him was an irre- parable fault. The publication of the will had an immediate tendency to inspire the people with a passionate regret for the death of Caesar; for he had left to each Roman citizen seventy-five drach- mas, beside the public use of his gardens beyond the Tyber, where now the temple of Fortune stands. When the body was brought into the forum, and Antony spoke the usual funeral eulo- gium, as he perceived the people affected by his speech, he endeavored still more to work upon their passions, by unfolding the bloody garment of Caesar, showing them in how many places it was pierced, and pointing out the number of his wounds. This threw everything into confusion. Some called aloud to kill the murderers; others, as was formerly done in the case of that seditious demagogue Clodius, snatched the benches and tables from the neighboring shops, and erected a pile for the body of Caesar, in the midst of conse- crated places and surrounding temples. As soon as the pile was in flames, the people, crowding from all parts, snatched the half-burned brands, and ran round the city to fire the houses of the conspirators; but they were on their guard against such an assault, and prevented the effects. There was a poet named China, who had no concern in the conspiracy, but was rather a friend of Caasar's. This man dreamed that Caesar invited him to supper, and that, when he declined the invitation, he took him by the hand, and con- strained him to follow him into a dark and deep place, which he entered with the utmost horror. The agitation of his spirits threw him into a fever, which lasted the remaining part of the night. In the morning, however, when Csesar was to be in- terred, he was ashamed of absenting himself from the solemnity: he, therefore, mingled with the multitude that had just been enraged by the speech of Antony; and being unfortunately mistaken lor that Cinna, who had before inveighed against 628 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. Cfesar, he was torn to pieces. This, more than anything, except Antony's change of conduct, alarmed Brutus and his party. They now thought it necessary to consult their safety, and retired to Antiuin. Here they sat down, with an intent to return as soon as the popular fury should subside; and for this, considering the inconstancy of the multitude, they concluded that they should not have long to wait. Tiie senate, moreover, was in their interest; and though they did not punish the murderers of China, they caused strict inquiry to be made after those who attempted to burn the houses of the conspirator?. Antony too became obnoxious to the people; for they suspected him of erecting another kind of monarchy. The re- turn of Brutus was, consequently, wished for; and, as he was to exhibit shows and games in his capacity as praetor, it was expected. Brutus, however, had received intelligence, that several of Caesar's old soldiers, to whom he had distributed lands and colonies, had stolen, by small parties, into Rome, and that they lay in wait for him: he, therefore, did not think proper to come himself; notwithstanding which, the shows that were ex- hibited on his account were extremely magnifi- cent: for he had bought a considerable number of wild beasts, and ordered that they should all be reserved for that purpose. He went himself as far as Naples to collect a number of comedians; and being informed of one Canutius, who was much admired upon the stage, he desired his friends to use all their interest to bring him to Rome. Canutius was a Grecian; and Brutus, therefore, thought that no compulsion should be used. He wrote likewise to Cicero, and begged that he would, by all means, be present at the public shows. Such was the situation of his affairs, when, on the arrival of Octavius at Rome, things took another turn. He was son to the sister of Caesar, who had adopted and appointed him his heir. He was pursuing his studies at Apollonia, and in ex- pectation of meeting Caesar there on his intended expedition against the Parthians, at the time when CaBsar was slain. Upon hearing of this event, he immediately came to Rome, and, to ingratiate himself with the people, assumed the name of Caesar. By punctually distributing among the citizens the money that was left them by his uncle, he soon took the lead of Antony; and, by his liberality to the soldiers, he brought over to his party the greatest number of those who had served under Ccesar. Cicero, likewise, who hated Antony, joined his interest. And this was so much resented by Brutus, that, in his letters he reproached him in the severest terms. " He per- ceived," he said, " that Cicero was tame enough to bear a tyrant, and was only afraid of the tyrant that hated him; that his compliments to Octa- vius were meant to purchase an easy slavery: but our ancestors," said Brutus, "scorned to bear even a gentle master." He added, that, " As to the measures of peace, or war, he was undeter- mined; but in one thing he was resolved, which was, never to be a slave!" He expressed his sur- prise, "That Cicero should prefer an infamous accommodation even to the dangers of civil war; and that the only fruits he expected from destroy- ing the'tyranny of Antony should be the estab- lishment of a new tyrant in Octavius." Such was the spirit of his first letters. The city was now divided into two factions; some joined Csesar, others remained with Antony, and the army was sold to the best bidder. Brutus, of course, despaired of any desirable event; and, oeing resolved to leave Italy, he went by land to Lucania, and came to ths maritime town of Elea. Porcia, being to return from thence to Rome, en- deavored, as well as possible, to conceal the sor- row that oppressed her; but, notwithstanding hei magnanimity, a picture which she found there betrayed her distress. The subject was the part- ing of Hector and Andromache. He was repre- sented delivering his son Astyanax into her arms, and the eyes of Andromache \Vere fixed upon him. The resemblance that this picture bore to her own distress, made her burst into tears the moment she beheld it; and several times she visited the melancholy emblem, to gaze upon it, and weep be- fore it. On this occasion Acilius, one ol Brutus's friends, repeated that passage in Homer, where Andromache says, Yet while my Hector still survives, I see My lather, mother, brethren all in thee. Pope. To which Brutus replied, with a smile, "But I must not answer Porcia as Hector did Androm- ache: Hasten to thy tasks at home, There guide the spindle and direct the loom. Pope. She has not personal strength, indeed, to sustain the toils we undergo, but her spirit is not less ac- tive in the cause of her country." This anecdote we have from Bibulus, the son of Porcia. From Elea, Brutus sailed for Athens, where he was received with high applause, and invested with public honors. There he took up his resi- dence with a particular friend, and attended the lectures of Theomnestus the academic, and Cratip- pus the peripatetic, devoting himself wholly to literary pursuits. Yet in this unsuspected state he was privately preparing for war. He dis- patched Herostratus into Macedonia to gain the principal officers in that province; and he secured, by his kindness, all the young Romans who were students then at Athens. Among these was the son of Cicero, on whom he bestowed the highest encomiums; and said, that he could never cease admiring the spirit of that young man, who bore such a mortal hatred to tyrants. At length he began to act more publicly; and being informed that some of the Roman ships laden with money, were returning from Asia under the command of a man of honor, a friend of his, he met him at Carystus, a city of Eubcea. There he had a conference with him, and request- ed that he would give up the ships. By-the,-bye, it happened to be Brutus's birth-day, on which occasion he gave a splendid entertainment, and while they were drinking Victory to Brutus and Liberty to Rome, to encourage the cause, he called for a larger bowl. While he held it in his hand, without any visible relation to the subject they were upon, he pronounced this verse: My fall was doom'd by Phosb.ns and by Fate. Some historians say, that Apollo was the word he gave his soldiers in the last battle at Philippi; and, of course conclude, that this exclamation was a presage of his defeat. Antistius, the com- mander of the ships, gave him five hundred thou- sand drachmas of the money he was carrying to Italy. The remains of Pompey's army that were scattered about Thessaly, readily joined his stand- ard; and, beside these, he took five hundred horse, whom Cinna was conducting to Dolabella in Asia. He then sailed to Demetrius, and seized a large quantity of arms, which Julius Ctesar had provided for the Parthian war, and which were now to be sent to Antony. Macedpnia was delivered up to him by H.ortensius the praetor; and all the neigh- boring princes readily offered their assistance. MARCUS BRUTUS. 629 When news was received that Caius, the brother of Antony, had marched through Italy, to join the forces under Gabiuius in Dyrrhachium and Apollonia, Brutus determined to seize them before he arrived, and made a forced march with such troops as were at hand. The way was rugged, and the snows were deep; but he moved with such expedition that his sutlers were left a long way behind. When he had almost reached Dyrrha- chium, he was seized with the disorder called Bulimia, or violent hunger, occasioned by cold and faligtie. This disorder affects both men and cattle, after fatigues in the snow. Whether it is, that perspiration being prevented by the extreme cold, the vital heat is confined, and more imme- diately consumes the aliment; or, that a keen and subtile vapor rising from the melted snow, pene- trates the body, and destroys the heat by expelling it through the pores; for the sweatings seern to arise from the heat contending with the cold, which being repelled by the latter, the vapory steam is diffused over the surface of the body. But of this I have treated more largely in another place. Brutus growing very faint, and no provi- sions being at hand, his servants were forced to go to the gates of the enemy, and beg bread of the sentinels. When they were informed of the distress of Brutus, they brought him meat and drink with their own hands; and in return for their humanity, when he had taken the city, he showed kindness both to them and to the rest of the inhabitants. When Caius arrived in Apollonia, he sum- moned l he soldiers that were quartered near the city to join him; but finding that they were all with Brutus, and suspecting that those in Apol- lonia favored the same party, lie went to Buthro- tus. Brutus, however, found means to destroy three of his cohorts in their march. Caius, after this, attempted to seiy.e some posts near Byllis, but was routed in a set battle by young Cicero, to whom Brutus had given the command of the army on that occasion, and whose conduct he made use of frequently and with success. Caius was soon afterward surprised in a marsh, from whence lie had no means to escape; and Brutus, finding him in his power, surrounded him with his cavalry, and gave orders that none of his men should be killed; for he expected that they would quickly join him of their own accord. As he ex- pected, it came to pass. They surrendered, both themselves and their general, so that Brutus had now a very respectable army. He treated Caius for a long time with all possible respect; nor did he divest him of any ensigns of dignity that he bore, though, it is said, that he received letters from several persons at Rome, and particularly from Cicero, advising him to put him to death. At length, however, when he found that he was secretly practicing with his officers, and exciting seditions among the soldiers, he put him on board a ship, and kept him close prisoner. The soldiers that he had corrupted retired into Apollonia, from whence they sent to Brutus, that if he would come to them there, they would return to their duty. Brutus answered, " That this was not the custom of the Romans, but that those who had offended should come in person to their general, and solicit his forgiveness." This they did, and were accordingly pardoned. He was now pre- paring to go into Asia, when he was informed of a change in affairs at Rome. Young Caesar, sup- ported by the senate, had got the better of Antony, and had driven him out of Italy, but, at the same time, he began to be no less formidable himself; for he solicited the consulship contrary to law, and kept in pay an unnecessary army. Conse- quently the senate, though they at first supported, were now dissatisfied with his measures. And as they began to cast their eyes on Brutus, and de creed or confirmed several provinces to him, Caesar was under some apprehensions. He therefore dis- patched messengers to Antony, and desired that a reconciliation might take place. After this he drew up his army around the city, and carried the consulship, though but a boy; in his twentieth year, as he tells us in his Commentaries. He. was no sooner consul than he ordered a judicial pro- cess to issue against Brutus and his accomplices, for murdering the first magistrate, in Rome, with- out trial or condemnation. Lucius Cornificius was appointed to accuse Brutus, and Marcus Agrippa accused Cassius; neither of whom appearing, the judges were obliged to pass sentence against both. It is said, that, when the crier, as usual, cited Brutus to appear, the people could not sup,- press their sighs; and persons of the first distinc- tion heard it in silent dejection. Publius Silicius was observed to burst into tears, and this was the cause why he was afterward proscribed. The tri- umviri, Caesar, Antony, and Lepidus, being now reconciled, divided the provinces among them, and settled that list of murder, in which two hundred citizens, and Cicero among the rest, were pro- scribed. When the report of these proceedings was brought into Macedonia, Brutus found himself under a necessity of sending orders to Hortensius to kill Caius, the brother of Antony, in revenge of the death of Cicero, his friend, and Brutus Al- binus, his kinsman, who was slain. This was the reason why Antony, when he had taken Horten- sius at the battle of Philippi, slew him upon his brother's tomb. Brutus says that he was more ashamed of the cause of Cicero's death than grieved at the event: while he saw Rome enslaved more by her own fault than by the fault of her tyrants, and continue a tame spectator of such scenes as ought not to have been heard of without horror. The army of Brutus was now considerable, and he ordered his route into Asia, while a fleet was preparing in Bithynia and Cyzicum. As he marched by land, he settled the affairs of the cities, and gave audience to the princes of those countries through which he passed. He sent orders to Cassius, who was in Syria, to give up his intended journey into Egypt, and join him. On this occasion he tells him, that their collecting forces to destroy the tyrants was not to secure an empire to themselves; but to deliver their fellow- citizens; that they should never forget this great ob- ject of their understanding, but, adhering to their first intentions, keep Italy within their eye, and hasten to rescue their country from oppression. Cassius, accordingly, set out to join him, and Brutus, at the same time making some progress to meet him, their interview was at Smyrna. Until this meeting, they had not seen each other since they parted at the Piraeus of Athens, when Cassius set out for Syria, and Brutus for Macedo- nia. The forces they had respectively collected gave them great joy, and made them confident of success. From Italy they had fled, like soli- tary^xiles, without money, without arms, with- out a ship, a soldier, or a town to fly to. Yet now, in so short a time, they found themselves supplied with shipping and money, with an army of horse and foot, and in a condition of contending for the empire of Rome. Cassius was no less re- spectful to Brutus than Brutus was to him; but the latter would generally wait upon him, as he PLUTARCH'S LIVES. was the older man, and of a feeble constitution, j Cassius was esteemed an able soldier, but of a fiery disposition, and ambitious to command rather by fear than affection: though, at the same time, with his familiar acquaintance, he was easy in his manners, and fond of raillery to excess. Bru- tus, on account of his virtue, was respected by the people, beloved by his friends, admired by men of principle, and not hated even by his ene- mies. He was mild in his temper, and had a greatness of mind that was superior to anger, avarice, and tlie love of pleasure. He was firm and inflexible in his opinions, and zealous in every pursuit where justice or honor were concerned. The people had the highest opinion of his integ- rity and sincerity in every undertaking, and this naturally inspired them with confidence and affec- tion. Even Pompey the Great had hardly ever so much credit with them; for who ever imagined, that, if he had conquered Ca3sar, he would have submitted to the laws, and would not have retained his power under the title of consul or dictator, or some more specious and popular name? Cassius, on the contrary, a man of violent passions, and rapacious avarice, was suspected of exposing him- self to toil and danger, rather from a thirst of power than an attachment to the liberties of his country. The former disturbers of the common- wealth, Cinna, and Marius, and Carbo, evidently set their country as a stake for the winner, and hardly scrupled to own that they fought for em- pire. But the very enemies of Brutus never charge him with this. Even Antony has been heard to say, that Brutus was the only conspirator who had the sense of honor and justice for his motive; and that the rest were wholly actuated by malice or envy. It is clear, too, from what Brutus himself says, that he finally and princi- pally relied on his own virtue. Thus he writes to Atticus, immediately before an engagement, "That his affairs were in the most desirable situ- ation imaginable; for that either he should con- quer, and restore liberty to Rome, or die, and be free from slavery; and that this only remained a question. Whether they should live or die free- 1 men? He adds, that Mark Antony was properly punished for his folly; who, when he might have ranked with the Brutii, the Cassii,and Catos, chose rather to be the underling of Octavius; and that if he did not fall in the approaching battle, they would very soon be at a variance with each other." In which he seems to have been a true prophet. While they were at Smyrna, Brutus desired Cassius to let him have part of the vast treasure he had collected, because his own was chiefly ex- pended in equipping a fleet, to gain the superi- ority at sea. But the friends of Cassius advised him against this; alleging that it would be absurd to give Brutus that money which he had saved with so much frugality and acquired with so much envy, merely that Brutus might increase his pop- ularity, by distributing it among the soldiers. Cassius, however, gave him a third of what he had, and then they parted for their respective commands. Cassius behaved with great severity on the taking of Rhodes; though, when he first en- j tered the city, and was saluted with the title of king j and master, he answered, "That he was neither . their king nor their master, but the destroyer of him who would have been both." Brutus' de- ! mande/i supplies of men and money from the Ly- cians; but Naucrates, an orator, persuaded the cities to rebel, and some of the inhabitants posted themselves on the hills with an intent to oppose the passage of Brutus. Brutus at first dispatched a party of horse, which surprised them at dinner, and killed six hundred of them. But afterward, when he had taken the adjacent towns and vil- lages, he gave up the prisoners without ransom, and hoped to gain them to his party by clemency. Their former sufferings, however, made them re- jecT, his humanity, and those that still resisted being driven into the city of Xanthus, were there besieged. As a river ran close by the town, sev- eral attempted to escape by swimming and (jiving; but they were prevented by nets let down for that purpose, which had little bells at the top, to give notice when any one was taken. The Xanthians afterward made a sally in the night, and set fire to several of the battering engines; but they were perceived and driven back by the Romans; at the same time the violence of the winds drove the flames on the city, so that several houses near the battlements took fire. Brutus, being apprehensive that the whole city would be destroyed, sent his own soldiers to assist the inhabitants in quench- ing the fire. But the Lycians were seized with an incredible despair, a kind of frenzy, which can no otherwise be described than by calling it a passionate desire of death. Women and children, freemen and slaves, people of all ages and condi- tions, strove to repulse the soldiers as they came to their assistance from the walls. With their own hands they collected wood and reeds, and all manner of combustibles, to spread the fire over the city, and encouraged its progress by every means in their power. Thus assisted, the flames flew over the whole with dreadful rapidity; while Brutus, extremely shocked at this calamity, rode round the walls, and stretching forth his hands to the inhabitants, entreated them to spare themselves and their city. Regardless of his entreaties, they sought by every means to put an end to their lives. Men, women, and even children, with hideous cries, leaped into the flames. Some threw themselves headlong from the walls, and others fell upon the swords of their parents, opening their breasts and begging to be slain. When the city was in a great measure reduced to ashes, a woman was found who had hanged herself with her young child fastened to her neck, and the torch in her hand, with which she had fired her house. This deplorable object so much affected Brutus that he wept when he was told of it, and proclaimed a reward to any soldier who could save a Xanthian. It is said that no more than a hundred and fifty were preserved, and those against their will. Thus the Xanthians, as if fate had ap- pointed certain periods for their destruction, after a long course of years, sunk into that deplorable ruin, in which the same rash despair had involved their ancestors in the Persian war: for they too burned their city and destroyed themselves. After this, when the Patareans likewise made resistance, Brutus was under great anxiety whether he should besiege them; for he was afraid they should follow the desperate measures of the Xanthians. However, having some of their women whom he had taken prisoners, he dismissed them without ransom; and those re- turning to their husbands and parents, who hap- pened to be people of the first distinction, so much extolled the justice and moderation of Bru- tus, that they prevailed on them to submit, and put their city in his hands. The adjacent cities followed their example, and found that his hu- manity exceeded their hopes. Cassius compelled every Rhodian to give up all the gold and silvei iu his possession, by which he amassed eight thousand talents; and yet he laid the public un- der a fine of five hundred talents more; but Bru- tus took only a hundred and fifty talents of the MARCUS BRUTUS. 631 Lycians, "and, without doing them any other in- jury, led his army into Ionia. Brutus, in the course of this expedition, did many acts of justice, and was vigilant in the dis- pensation of rewards and punishments. An in- stance of this I shall relate, because both he him- self, and every honest Roman, was particularly pleased with it. When Pornpey the Great, after his overthrow at Pharsalia, fled into Egypt, and landed near Pelus-ium, the tutors and ministers of young Ptolemy consulted what measures they should take on the occasion. But they were of different opinions. Some were for receiving him. others for excluding him out of Egypt. Theo- dotus, aChian by birth, and a teacher of rhetoric by profession, who then attended the king in that capacity, was, for want cf abler ministers, admit- ted to the council. This man insisted that both were in tiie wrong; those who were for receiving, and those who were for expelling Pornpey. The best measure they could take, he said, would be to put him to death, and concluded his speech with the proverb, that dead men do not bite. The council entered into his opinion; and Pornpey the Great, an example of the incredible mutability of fortune, fell a sacrifice to the arguments of a sophist, as that sophist lived afterward to boast. Not long after, upon Caesar's arrival in Egypt, some of the murderers received their proper reward, and were put to death: but Theodotus made his escape. Yet, though for a while he gained from fortune the poor privilege of a wanderingand des- picable life, he fell at last into the hands of Brutus, as he was passing through Asia; and, by paying the forfeit of his baseness, became more memor- able from his death than from anything in his life. About this time Brutus sent for Cassius to Sar- dis,, and went with his friends to meet him. The whole party being drawn up saluted both the leaders with the title of Im.pera.tor. But as it usually happens in great affairs, where many friends and many officers are engaged, mutual complaints and suspicions arose between Brutus and Cassius. To settle these more properly, they retired into an apartment by themselves. Ex- postulations, debates, and accusations followed; and these were so violent that they burst into tears. Their friends without were surprised at the loudness and asperity of the conference ; but though they were apprehensive of the conse- quence, they durst not interfere, because they had been expressly forbidden to enter. Favonius, however, an imitator of Cato, but rather an en- thusiast than rational in his philosophy, attempt- ed to enter. Tiie servants in wailing endeavor- ed to prevent him, but it was not easy to stop the impetuous Favonius. He was violent in his vhole conduct, and valued himself less on his dignity as a senator than on a kind of cynical freedom on saying everything he pleased; nor was this unentertaining to those who could bear with his impertinence. However, he broke through the door and entered the apartment, pro- nouncing, in a theatrical tone, what Nestor says in Homer, Young men, be ruled I'm older than you both. Cassius laughed: but Brutus thrust him out, tell- ing him that he pretended to be a cynic, but was in reality a dog. This, however, put an end to the dispute; and for that time they parted. Cas- eins gave an entertainment in the evening, to which Brutus invited his friends. When they were seated, Favonius came in from bathing. Brutus called aloud to him, telling him that he was not invited, and bade him go to the lower end of the table. Favonius, notwithstanding, thrust himself in, and sat down in the middle. On that occasion there were much learning and good humor in the conversation. The day following, one Lucius Pella, who had been praetor, and employed in offices of trust, be- ing impeached by the Sardians of embezzling the public money, was disgraced and condemned by Brutus. This was very mortifying to Cassius; for, a little before, two of his own friends had been accused of the same crime: but he had ab- solved them in public, and contenting himself with giving them a private reproof, continued them in office. Of course, he charged Brutus with too rigid an exertion of the laws at a time when lenity was much more politic. Brutus, on the other hand, reminded him of the ides of March, the time when they had killed Caesar; who was not, personally speaking, the scourge of mankind, but only abetted and supported those that were within his power. He bade him consider, that if the neglect of justice were in any case to be connived at, it should have been done before; and that they had better have borne with the op- pressions of Caesar's friends than suf%red the mal-practices of their own to pass with impunity: " For then," continued he, " we eeuld have been blamed only for cowardice, hut now, after all we have undergone, we shall lie under the imputa- tion of injustice." Such were the principles of Brutus. When they were about to leave Asia, Brutus, it is said, had an extraordinary apparition. Natur- ally watchful, sparing in his diet, and assiduous in business, he allowed himself but little time for sleep. In the day he never slept, nor in the night, until all business was over, and, the rest being retired, he had nobody to converse with. But at this time, involved as he was in the operations of war, and solicitous for the event, he only slum- bered a little after supper, and spent the rest of the night in ordering his most urgent affairs. When these were dispatched, he employed himself in reading until the third watch, when the tribunes and centurions came to him for orders. Thus, a little before he left Asia, he was sitting alone in his tent, by a dim light, and at a late hour. The whole army lay in sleep and silence, while the general, wrapped in meditation, thought he per- ceived something enter his tent: turning toward the door, he saw a horrible and monstrous specter standing silently by his side: " What art thou?" said he boldly, " Art thou god or man? And what is thy business with me?" The specter answered, " I am thy evil genius, Brutus! Thou wilt see rne at Philippi." To which he calmly replied, " I'll meet thee there." When the ap- parition was gone, he called his servants, who told him they had neither heard any noise, nor had seen any vision. That night he did not go to rest, but went early in the morning to Cassius, and told him what had happened. Cassius, who was of the school of Epicurus, and used fre- quently to dispute with Brutus on these subjects, answered him ;hus: "It is the opinion of our sect, that not everything we see is real; for mat- ter is evasive, and sense deceitful. Beside, the impressions it receives are, by the quick and sub- tile influence of imagination, thrown into a vari- ety of forms, many of which have no archetypes in nature: and this the imagination effects as eas- ily as we may make an impression on wax. The mind of man, having in itself the plastic powers, and the component parts, can fashion and vary its objects at pleasure. This is clear from tha 632 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. sudden transition of dreams, in which the imagi- nation can educe, from the slightest principles, such an amazing variety of forms, and call into exercise all the passions of the soul. The mind is perpetually in motion, and that motion is im- agination or thought. But when the body, as in your case, is fatigued with labor, it naturally sus- pends, or perverts the regular functions of the mind. Upon the whole, it is highly improbable that there should be any such beings as demons, or spirits; or that if there were such, they should assume a human shape or voice, or have any power to affect us. At the same time, I own I could wish there were such beings, that we might not rely on fleets and armies, but find the concurrence of the gods in this our sacred and glorious enterprise." Such were the arguments lie made use of to satisfy Brutus. When the army began to march, two eagles perched on the two first standards, and accompa- nied them as far as Philippi, being constantly fed by the soldiers; but the day before the battle they flew away. Brutus had already reduced most of the nations in these parts; nevertheless he traver- sed the sea-coast over against Thasus, that, if any hos^le power remained, he might bring it into subjection. Norb;nus, who was encamped in the straits :ua Bymbolum, they surrounded in such a manner that they obliged him to quit the place. Indeed, he narrowly escaped losing his whole army, which had certainly been the case, had not Antony come to his relief with such amazing expedition that Brutuscould not believe it to be possible. Caesar, who'had been kept behind by sickness, joined his army about ten days after. Brutus was encamped over against him. Cassius was opposite to Antony. The space between the two armies the Romans call the plains of Philippi. Two armies of Romans, equal in numbers to these, had never before met to engage each other. Caesar's was something superior in numbers; but in the splendor of arms and equipage was far ex- ceeded by that of Brutus; for most of their arms were of gold and silver, which their general had liberally bestowed upon them. Brutus, in other things, had accustomed his officers to frugality; but the riches which his soldiers carried about with them, would at once, he thought, add to the spirit of the ambitious, and make the covetous valiant in the defense of those arms, which were their principal wealth. Ccesar made a lustration of his army within the camp, and gave each private man a little corn, and five drachmas only for the sacrifice. But Brutus to show his contempt of the poverty or the avar- ice of Caesar, made a public lustration of his ar- my in the field, and not only distributed cattle to each cohort for the sacrifice, but gave fifty drachmas, on the occasion to each private man. Of course he was more beloved by his soldiers, and they were more ready to fight for him. It is reported, that, during the lustration, an unlucky omen happened to Cassius. The garland he wa's to wear at the sacrifice was presented to him the wrong side outward. It is said too, that at a sol- emn procession, some time before, the person who bore the golden image of victory before Cassius, happened to stumble, and the image fell to the ground. Several birds of prey hovered daily about the camp, and swarms of bees were seen within the trenches. Upon which the soothsay- ers ordered the part where they appeared, to be shut up: for Cassius, with all his Epicurean phil- osophy, began to be superstitious, and the sol- diers were extremely disheartened by these emena. For this reason Cassius was inclined to pro- tract the war, and unwilling to hazard the whole j of the event on the present engagement. What made him for this measure too, was, that they were stronger in money and provisions, but infe- rior in numbers. Brutus, on the other hand, was, as usual, for an immediate decision; that he might either give liberty to his country, or rescue his fellow-citizens from the toils and expenses of war. He was encouraged likewise by the suc- cess his cavalry met with in several skirmishes; and some instances of desertion and mutiny in the camp, brought over many of the friends of Cassius to his opinion. But there was one Attel- lius, who still opposed an immediate decision, and advised to put it off until the next winter.-- When Brutus asked him what advantages he ex- pected from that, he answered, "If I gain noth- ing else, I shall at least live so much the longer." Both Cassius and the rest of the officers were dis- pleased with this answer; and it was determined to give battle the day following. Brutus, that night, expressed great confidence and cheerfulness; and having passed the time of supper in philosophical conversation, he went to rest. Messala says, that Cassius supped in private with some of his most intimate friends; and that, contrary to his usual manner, he was pensive and silent. He adds, that after supper, he took him by the hand, and pressing it close, as lie common- ly did, in token of his friendship, he said in Greek, " Bear witness, Messala, that I am re- duced to the same necessity with Pompey the Great, of hazarding the liberty of my country on one battle. Yet I have confidence in our good fortune, on which we ought still to rely, though the measures wo have resolved upon are indis- creet." These, Messala tells us, were the last words that Cassius spoke, before he bade him farewell; and that the next day, being his birth- day, he invited Cassius to sup with him. Next morning, as soon as it was light, the scarlet robe, which was the signal for battle, was hung out in the tents of Brutus and Cassius; and they themselves met on the plain between the two armies. On this occasion, Cassius thus addressed himself to Brutus: " May the gods, Brutus, make this day successful, that we may pass the rest of our days together in prosperity. But as the most important of human events are the most uncer- tain; and as we may never see each other any more, if we are unfortunate on this occasion, tell rne what is your resolution concerning flight and death ?" Brutus answered: "In the younger and less experienced part of my life, 1 was led, upon phi- losophical principles, to condemn the conduct of Cato, in killing himself. I thought it at once im- pious and unmanly to sink beneath the stroke of fortune, and to refuse the lot that had befallen us. In my present situation, however, I am of a dif- ferent opinion. So that if Heaven should now be unfavorable to our wishes, I will no longer solicit rny hopes or my fortune, but die contented with it, such as it is. On the ides of March I devoted my life to my country; and since tha) time 1 have lived in liberty and glory." At these words Cassius smiled, and embracing Brutus, said, "Let us march then against the enemy; for with these resolutions, though we should not conquer, we have nothing to fear." They then consulted with their friends concerning the order of battle. Brutus desired that he might command the right wing, though the post was thought more proper for Cassius on account of his expe- rience. Cassius, however, gave it up to him, arid MARCUS BRUTUS. 633 Messala, with the best of his legions, in the same wing. Brutus immediately drew out his cavalry, which were equipped with great mag- nificence, and the foot followed close upon them. Antony's soldiers were at this time employed in making a trench from the marsh where they were encamped, to cut off Cassius's communica- tion with the sea. Caesar lay still in his tent, confined by sickness. His soldiers were far from expecting that the enemy would come to a pitched battle. They supposed that they were only malt,-, ing excursions to harass the trench-diggers with their light arms; and not perceiving that they were pouring in close upon them, they were as- tonished at the outcry they heard from the trenches. Brutus, in the meantime, sent tickets to the several officers with the word of battle, and rode through the ranks to encourage his men. There were lew who had patience to wait for the word. The greatest part, before it could reach them, fell with loud shouts upon the enemy- This precipitate onset threw the army into confu- sion, and separated the legions. Messala's legion first got beyond the left wing of Caesar, and was followed by those that were stationed near him. In their way they did nothing more than throw some of the outmost ranks into disorder, and killed few of the enemy; their great object was to fall upon Caesar's camp, and they made directly up to it. Caesar himself, as he tells us in his Commenta- ries, had but just before been conveyed out of his tent; in consequence of a vision of his friend Artorius, which commanded that he should be carried out of the camp. This made it believed that he was slain; for the soldiers had pierced his empty litter in many places with darts. Those who were taken in the camp were put to the sword, among whom were two thousand Lace- daemonian auxiliaries. Those who attacked Cae- sar's legions in front easily put them to the rout, and cut three legions in pieces. After this, borne along with the impetuosity of victory, they rushet into the camp at the same time with the fugitives and Brutus was in the midst of them. The flank of Brutus's army was now left unguarded, by the separation of the right wing, which was gone off too far in the pursuit; and the enemy perceiving this, endeavored to take acivantge of it. They ac- cordingly attacked it with great fury, but couk make no impression on the main body, which re- ceived them with firmness and unshaken resolu- tion. The left wing, however, which was under the command of Cassius, was soon put to the rout; for the men were in great disorder, and knew nothing of what had passed in the right wing. The enemy pursued him into the camp, which they plundered and destroyed, though neither of their generals were present; Antony, it is said, to avoid the fury of the first onset, had retired into the adjoining marsh; and Caesar, who had been carried sick out of the camp, was nowhere to be found. Nay, some of the soldiers would have persuaded Brutus that they had killed Caesar, describing his age and person, and showing him their bloody swords. The main body of Brutus's army had now made prodigious havoc of the enemy; and Brutus, in his department, was no less absolutely conqueror than Cassius was conquered. The want of know, ing this was the ruin of their affairs. Brutus, neglected to relieve Cassius, because he knew not that he wanted relief. When Brutus had destroyed the camp of Cresar, and was returning from the pursuit, he was sur- prised that he could neither perceive the tent of Cassius above the rest, as usual, nor asy cf those that were about it: for they had been demolished the enemy, on their first entering the camp. Some who were of quicker sight than the rest, told him that they could perceive a motion of shining helmets and silver targets in the carnp of Cassius, and supposed, from their numbers and their armor, that they could not be those who were left to guard the camp; though at the same time, there was not so great an appearance of dead bodies as there must have been after the de- feat of so many legions. This gave Brutui Tlie first suspicion of Cassius's misfortune; and, leav- ing a sufficient guard in the enemy's camp, he called off the rest from the pursuit, and led them, in order, to the relief of Cassius. The case of that general was this: Ho was chagrined, at first, by the irregular conduct of Brutus's soldiers, who began the attack without waiting for the command; and afterward, by their attention to plunder, whereby they neglected to surround and cut off the enemy. Thus dis- satisfied, he trifled with his command, and, for want of vigilance, suffered himself to be sur- rounded by the enemy's right wing; upon which his cavalry quitted their post, and fled toward the sea. The foot, likewise, began to give way; and though he had labored as much as possible, to stop their flight, and snatching an ensign from the hand of one of the fugitives, fixed it at his feet, yet he was hardly able to keep his own praetorian band together: so that, at length, he was obliged to retire, with a very small number, to a hill that overlooked the plain. Yet here he could discover nothing; for he was short-sighted-, and it was with some difficulty that he coulu perceive his own camp plundered. His companions, however, saw a large detachment of horse, which Brutus had sent to their relief, making up to them. These Cassius concluded to be the enemy that were in pursuit of him; notwithstanding which, he dispatched Titinius to reconnoiter them. When the cavalry of Brutus saw this faithful friend of Cassius ap- proach, they shouted for joy. His acquaintance leaped from their horses to embrace him, and the rest rode round him with clashing of arms, and all the clamorous expressions of gladness. This cir- cumstance had a fatal effect. Cassius took it for granted that Titinius was seized by the enemy, and regretted, that, through a weak desire of life, he had suffered his friend to fall into their hands. When he had expressed himself to this effect, he retired into an empty tent, accompanied only by his freed man Pindarus, whom, ever since the de- feat of Crassus, he had retained for a particular purpose. In that defeat, he escaped out of the hands of the Parthians; but now, wrapping his robe about his face, he laid bare his neck, and commanded Pindarus to cut oft' his head. This was done; for his head was found severed from his body: but whether Pindarus did it by his master's command, has been suspected; because he never afterward appeared. It was soon discovered who the cavalry were, and Titinius, crowned with gar- lands, came to the place where he left Cassius. When the lamentations of his friends informed him of the unhappy fate of his general, he severely reproached himself for the tardiness which had occasioned it, and fell upon his sword. Brutus, when he was assured of the defeat of Cassius, made all possible haste to his relief; but he knew nothing of his death until he came up to his camp. There he lamented over his body, and called him the last of Romans: intimating, that Rome would never produce another man of equal spirit. He ordered his funeral to be celebrated at Thasus, that it might not occasion any disorder 634 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. in the camp. His dispersed and dejected soldiers he collected and encouraged; and as they had been stripped of everything by the enemy, he prom- .sed them two thousand drachmas a man. This munificence at once encouraged and surprised them: they attended him at his departure great acclamations, and complimented him with the only general of the four who had not been beaten. Brutus was confident of victory, and the event justified that confidence: for, with -a few legions, he overcame all that opposed him: and if most of his soldiers had not passed the enemy in pursuit of plunder, the battle must have been decisive in his favor. He lost eight thousand men, including the servants whom he calls Briges. Messala says, he supposes the enemy lost more than twice that number; and, of course, they were more dis- couraged than Brutus, until Demetrius, a servant of Cassius, went over to Antony in the evening, and carried him his master's robe and sword, which he had taken from the dead body. This so effect- ually encouraged the enemy, that they were drawn up in form of battle by break oi' day. Botli camps, in the occupation of Brutus, involved him in dif- ficulties. His own, full of prisoners, required a strong guard. At the same time, many of the soldiers of Cassi us murmured at their change of master, and the vanquished were naturally envious and jealous of the victors. He, therefore, thought proper to draw up his army, but not to fight them to those who had no title to them; yet they acted consistently with their first principle, which was the acquisition of empire and arbitrary power But Brutus maintained such a reputation for vir- tue, that he was neither allowed to conquer, nor even to save himself, except on the strictest prin- ciples of honor and justice; more particularly since the death of Cassius, to whom, if any act of violence were committed, it was generally im- puted. However,' as sailors, when their rudder is broken in a storm, substitute some other piece of wood in its place; and though they cannot steer so well as before, do the best they can in their necessity; so Brutus, at the head of so vast an army, and such important affairs, unassisted by any officer that was equal to the charge, was obliged to make use of such advisers as he had; and he generally followed the counsel of those who proposed anything that might bring Cassius's soldiers to order; for these were extremely un- tractable; insolent in the camp, for want of their general, though cowardly in the field, from the remembrance of their defeat. The affairs of Cresar and Antony were not in a much better condition. Provisions were scarce and the marshy situation of their camp made them dread the winter. They already began to fear the inconveniences of it; for the autumnal rains had fallen heavy after the battle, and their tents filled with rnire and water, which, from the All the slaves he had taken prisoners, being } coldness of the weather, immediately froze. In found practicing with his soldiers, were put to the sword: but most of the freedmen and citizens were dismissed; and he told them at the same time, that they were more truly prisoners in the hands of the enemy than in his; with them he said, they were slaves indeed; but with him, freed- men and citizens of Rome. He was obliged, how- ever, to dismiss them privately; for they had im- placable enemies among his own friends and offi- cers. Among the prisoners were Volumnius, a mimic, and Sacuiio, a buffoon, of whom Brutus this situation they received intelligence of their loss at sea. Their fleet, which was coming from Italy with a large supply of soldiers, was met by that of Brutus, and so totally defeated, that the few who escaped were reduced by famine to eat the sails and tackle of the ships. It was now de- termined, on Cesar's side, that they should corne to battle, before Brutus was made acquainted with his success. It appears that the fight, both by sea and land, was on the same day; but, by some ac- cident, rather than the fault of their ofli cers, Bru- took no notice until they were brought before i tus knew nothing of his victory until twenty days him, and accused of continuing, even in their captivity, their scurillous jests and abusive lan- guage. Yet, still taken up with more important concerns, he paid no regard to the accusation: but Messala Corvinus was of opinion, that they should be publicly whipped, and sent nuked to the enemy, as proper associates and convivial companions for -such generals. Some were en- tertained with the iiiea, and laughed; but Ptiblius Casca, the first that wounded Caesar, observed, that it was indecent to celebrate the obsequies of Cassius with jesting and laughter. " As for you, Brutus, " said he, ' it will be seen what esteem you have for the memory of that general, when you have, either punished or pardoned those who ridicule and revile him." Brutus resented this expostulation, and said, "Why is this business thrown upon me, Casca? what you think proper?" This answer was con- sidered as an assent to their death; so the poor wretches were carried off and slain. He now gave, the promised rewards to his sol- Why do not you do after. Had he been informed of it, lie would never, certainly, have hazarded a second battle: for he had provisions for a considerable length of time, and his army was so advantageously posted, that it was safe both from the injuries of the weather, and the incursions of the enemy. Beside, knowing that he was wholly master at sea, and partly victorious by land, he would have had everything imaginable to encourage him; and could not have been urged to any dangerous meas- ures by despair. But it seems that the Republican form of gov- ernment was no longer to subsist in Rome; that it necessarily required a monarchy; and that Providence, to remove the only man who could oppose its destined master, kept the knowledge of that victory from him until it was too late. And yet, how near was lie to receiving the intelligence The very evening before the engagement, a de- serter, named Clodius, came over from the enemy to tell him, that Caesar was informed of the loss of his fleet, and that this was the reason of his diers; and' after gently rebuking them for begin- i hastening the battle. The deserter, however, wa? ning the assault without waiting for the word of ' considered either as designing or ill-informed: his battle, he promised that if they acquitted them-! intelligence was disregarded, and he was not even in the next engagement, selves to his satisfactioi he would give them up the cities of Lacedcemon and Thessalonica, to plunder. This is the only cir- cumstance in his life for which no apology can be made. For though Antony and Ca:sar afterward acted with more unbounded cruelty in rewarding their soldiers; though they deprived most of the an- adrnitted into the presence of Brutus. That night, they say, the specter appeared again to Brutus, and assumed its former figure, but van- ished without speaking. Yet Publius Volumnius, a philosophical man, who had borne arms with Brutus during the whole war, makes no mention of this prodigy; though, he says, that the first cieut inhabitants of Italy of their lands, and gave standard was covered with a swarm of bees; and MARCUS BRUTUS. 635 that the arm of one of the officers sweated oil of roses, which would not cease though they often wiped it off. He says, too, that immediately be- fore the battle, two eagles fought in the space between the two armies; and that there was an incredible silence and attention in the field, until that on the side of Brutus was beaten and flew away. The story of the Ethiopian is well known, who, meeting the standard bearer opening the gates of the camp, was cut in pieces by the sol- diers; for that they interpreted as an ill omen. When Brutus had drawn up his army in form of battle, he paused sometime before he gave the woni. While he was visiting the ranks, he had suspicions of some, and heard accusations of others. The cavalry, he found, had no ardor for the attack, but seemed waiting to see what the foot would do. Beside, Camulatus, a soldier in the highest estimation for valor, rode close by Brutus, and went over to the enemy in his sight. This hurt him inexpressibly: and partly out of anger, partly from fear of further desertion and treachery, he led his forces against the enemy, about three in the afternoon. Where he fought in person, he was still successful. He charged the enemy's left wing, and, the cavalry following the impression which the foot had made, it was put to the rout. But when the other wing of Brutus was ordered to advance, the inferiority of their numbers made them apprehensive that they should be surrounded by the enemy. For this reason they extended their ranks in order to cover more ground; by which means the center of the left wing was so much weakened that it could not sustain the shock of the enemy, but fled at the first onset. After their dispersion, the enemy surrounded Brutus, who did everything that tlie bravest and most expert general could do MI his situation, and whose conduct at least en- titled him to victory. But what seemed an advan- tage in the first engagement, proved a disadvantage in the second. In the former battle, that wing of the enemy which was conquered was totally cut off; but most of the men in the conquered wing of Cassius were saved. This, at the time might appear as an advantage, but it proved a prejudice. The remembrance of their former defeat filled them with terror and confusion, which they spread through the greatest part of the army. Marcus, the son of Cato, was slain fighting amidst the bravest of the young nobility. He scorned alike either to fly or to yield; but, avow- ing who lie was, and assuming his father's name, still used his sword, until he fell upon the heaps of the slaughtered enemy. Many other brave men, who exposed themselves for the preservation of Brutus, fell at the same time. Lucilhis, a man of great worth, and his inti- mate friend, observed some barbarian horse riding full speed against Brutus in particular, and was determined to stop them, though at hazard of his own life. He therefore told them that he was Brutus: Mud they believed him, because he pre- tended to be afraid of Caesar, and desired to be conveyed to Antony. Exulting in their capture, and thinking themselves peculiarly fortunate, they carried him along with them by night, having pre- viously sent an account to Antony of their suc- cess, who was infinitely pleased with it, and came, out to them. Many others, likewise, when they heard that Brutus was brought alive, assembled to see him. And some pitied his misfortunes, while others accused him of an inglorious meanness, in uffering the love of life to betray him into the hands of barbarians. When he approached, and Au tony was deliberating in what manner he should receive Brutus, Lucilius first addressed him, and with great intrepidity said, "Antony, be assured that Brutus neither is, nor will be taken by an enemy. Forbid it, Heaven, that fortune should have such a triumph over virtue! Whether he shall be found alive or dead, he will be found in a state becoming Brutus. I imposed on your sol- diers, and am prepared to suffer the worst you can inflict upon me." Thus spoke Lucilius, to the no small astonishment of those that were present When Antony, addressing himself to tho^e that brought him, sai>i, "I perceive, fellow- soldiers, that you are angry at this imposition of Lucilius. But you have really got a better booty than you intended. You sought an enemy, but you have brought me a friend. -I know not how I should have treated Brutus, had you brought him alive; but I am sure that it is better to have such a man as Lucilius fora friend than for an enemy." When he said this, he embraced Lucilius, recommending him to the care of one of his friends; and he ever after found him faithful to his interest. Brutus, attended by a few of his officers and friends, having passed a brook that was overhung with cliffs, and shaded with trees, and being over- taken by night, stopped in a cavity under a large rock. There, casting his eyes on the heavens, which were covered with stars, he repeated two verses, one of which, Volurnnius tells us, was this: Forgive not, Jove, the cause of this distress.* The other, he says, had escaped his memory. Upon enumerating the several friends that had fallen before his eyes in the battle, he sighed deeply at the mention of Flavius and Labeo; the latter of whom was his lieutenant, and the former, master of the band of artificers. In the mean- while, one of his attendants being thirsty, and observing Brutus in the same condition, took his helmet and went to the brook for water. At the same time a noise was heard on the opposite bank, and Volumnius and Dardanus, the armor-bearer, went to see what it was. In a short time they re-' turned, and asked for the water: " It is all drank up," said Brutus, wfth a smile; " but another helmet full shall be fetched." The man who had brought the first water, was therefore sent again; but he was wounded by the enemy; and made his escape with difficulty. As Brutus supposed that he had not lost many men in the battle, Statilius undertook to make his way through the enemy (for there was no other way) and see in what condition their camp was. If things were safe there, he was to hold up a torch for a signal, and return. He got safe to the camp; for the torch was held up. But a long time elapsed, and he did not return. " If Statilius were alive," said Brutus, " he would be here." In his return, he fell into the enemy's hands and was slain. The night was now far spent; when Brutus, leaning his head toward his servant Clitus, whis- pered something in his ear. Clitus made no an- swer, but burst into tears. After that he look his armor-bearer, Dardanus, aside, and said something to him in private. At last, addressing himself to Volum nius, in Greek, he entreated him, in memory of their common studies and exercises, to put his hand to his sword and help him to give the thrust. Volumnins, as well as several others, refused: and one of them observing that they must necessarily fly; "We must fly, indeed," said Brutus, rising hastily, " but not with our feet, but with our hands." He then took each of them by tlia Euripides, Medea. 63 (5 PLUTARCH'S LIVES hand and spoke with great appearance of cheer- j -'is the man who did the last kind office for my fulness, to the following purpose. ' It, is an in- ! dear Brutus." Ceesar received him with kindness; finite satisfaction to me that all my friends have ; and he was one of those brave Greeks who after- been faithful. If I am angry with fortune, it is 1 ward attended him at the battle of Actium. Of for the sake of my country- Myself I esteem \ Me.ssala. it is said, that when Csesar observed he more happy than the conquerors; not only in re- I had been no less zealous in his service at Actium spect of tiie past; but in my present situation. I than he had been against him at Philippi, he an- shall leave behind me that reputation for virtue, swered, "I have always taken the best and justest which they, with all their wealth and power, v.'ill side." When Antony found the body of Brutus, never acquire. For posterity will not scruple to he ordered it to be covered with the richest robe believe and declare, that they were an abandoned he had; and that being stolen, he put the thief to set of men, who destroyed the virtuous for the death. The ashes of Brutus he sent to his mother sake of that empire to which they had no right." Servi'ia. After this, he entreated them severally to provide j With regard to Porcia, his wife, Nicolaus the for their own safety; and withdrew with only two | philosopher, and Valerius Maximus,* tell us, that " ' being prevented from that death she wished for, by the constant vigilance of her friends, she snatched some burning coals from the fire, and shut them <>.|ose in her mouth until she was suffo- ted. Notwithstanding, there is a letter from Brutus to his friends still extant, in which he la- or three of his most intimate friends. One of these was Strato, with whom he first became ac- quainted when he studied rhetoric. This friend he placed next to himself, and laying hold of the hilt of lib sword with both his hands, he fell upon c the point and died. Some say that Strato, at the I st request of Brutus, turned aside his head j rnents the death of Porcia; and complains that and held the sword; upon which he threw him- self with such violence, that, entering at his breast, it passed quite through his body, and lie immedi- ately expired. Messala, the friend of Brutus, after he was re- conciled to Ca3sar, took occasion to recommend Strato to his favor. " This," said he, with tears, their neglect of her must have made her prefer death to the continuance of her illness. So that Nicolaus appears to have been mis- taken in the time, at least, if this epistle be authentic; for it describes Porcia's distemper, her conjugal affection, and the manner of her death. DION AND BRUTUS COMPARED. WHAT is principally to be admired in the lives of Dion and Brutus, is their rising to such im- portance from inconsiderable beginnings. But [ here Dion has the advantage; for. in the progress i of glory, he had no coadjutor: whereas Cassias went hand in hand with Brutus; and though in the reput ition of virtue and honor he was by no means his equal, in military experience, resolu- tion, and activity, he was not inferior. Some have imputed to him the origin of the whole en- terprise, and have asserted, that Brutus would never, otherwise, have engaged in it. But Dion, at the same lime that he made the whole military preparations himself, engaged the friends and as- sociates of his design. He did not, like Brutus, gain power and riches from the war: he employ- ed that wealth on which he was to subsist as an exile in a foreign country, in restoring the liber- ties of his own. When Brutus and Cassius fled from Rome, and found no asylum from the pur- suit of their enemies, their only resource was war; and they took up arms as much in their own defense as in that of the common liberty. Dion, on the contrary, was happier in his banish- ment than the tyrant that banished him; and yet he voluntarily exposed himself to danger for the freedom of Sicily. Beside, to deliver the Romans from Caesar, and the Syracusans from Dionysius, were enterprises of a very different kind. Diony- * Valerius Maximius speaks of her fortitude on this oc- casion in the highest terms. Tuo.-i quoque castissimos Ig- nes. Portia, M. Catonis./Wia cuncta scculn de.bita admira- tionc pro<c</it(!>ilur: Qwtf cum apiid Philippos victum ct interemptum virum tiium Brutum co^nosccre, qniaferrum nonckibatvr, urdcntes ore Carlioncs, haurire non dubitasti, muliebri spiritu virile m patris cxitum imitata. Scd nes- cioan hoc fortius quod, Me vsitato, tu novo geucrc mortis absumpta cst. Val. Max. 1. iv. c. 6. sius was an avowed and established tyrant; and Sicily, with reason, groaned beneath his yoke. But with respect to Ca3sar, though, wh'le his im- perial power was in its infancy, he treated its op- ponents with severity; yet, as soon as that power was confirmed, the tyranny was rather a nominal than a real thing: for no tyrannical action could be laic! to his charge. Nay, such was the condi- tion of Rome, that it evidently required a master; and Cresar was no more than a tender and skillful physician appointed by Providence to heal the distempers of the state. Of course the people lamented his death, and were implacably enraged against his assassins. Dion, on the contrary, was reproached by the Syracusans for suffering Diony- sius to escape, and not digging up the former tyrant's grave. With regard to their military conduct, Dion, as a general, was without a fault: he not only made the most of his own instructions, but, where others failed, he happily repaired the error. But it was wrong in Brutus to hazard a second battle, where all was at stake.* And when that battle was lost, he had neither sagacity enough to think of new resources, nor spirit, like Pompey, to contend with fortune, though he had still rea- son to reiy on his troops, and was absolute master at sea. But what Brutus is chiefly blamed for was his ingratitude to Csesar. He owed his life to his favor, as well as the lives of those prisoners for I whom he interceded. He was treated as his friend, j and distinguished with particular marks of honor; I and yet he imbrued his hands in the blood of his * This censure seems very unjust. The wavering dispo- sition of Cassius's troops obliged him to come to a second 1 engagement. ARTAXERXES 637 benefactor Dion stands clear of any charge 1 like this. As a relation of Dionysius, he assisted j and was useful to him in the administration; in i which case his services were equal to his honors, j When he was driven into exile, and deprived of his wife and his fortune, he had every motive that was just and honorable to take up arms against him. Yet if this circumstance is considered in another light, Brutus will have the advantage. The greatest glory of both consists in their abhor- rence of tyrants, and their criminal measures. This, in Brutus, was not blended with any other motive. He had no quarrel with Caesar; but ex- posed his life for the liberty of his country. Had not Dion been injured, he had not fought. This is clear from Plato's epistles; where it appears, that he was banished from the court of Diony- sius, and in consequence of that banishment made war upon him. For the good of the community, Brutus, though an enemy to Pompey, became his friend; and though a friend to Caesar, he became his enemy. His enmity and his friendship arose from the same "principle, which was justice. But D*ion, while in favor, employed his services for Dionysius; and it was not until he was disgraced that he armed against him. Of course, his friends were not quite satisfied with his enterprise. They were apprehensive that when he had destroyed the tyrant, he might seize the government him- self, and amuse the people with some softer title than that of tyranny. On the other hand, the very enemies of Brutus acknowledge that he was the only conspirator who had no other view than that of restoring the ancient form of govern- ment. Beside, the enterprise against Dionysius cannot be placed in competition with that against Caesar. The former had rendered himself contemptible by his low manners, his drunkenness, and de- bauchery. But to meditate the fall of Caesar, and not tremble at his dignity, his fortune, or his power, nor shrink at that name which shook the kings of India and Parthia on their thrones, and disturbed their slumbers; this showed a superi- ority of soul, on which fear could have no influ- ence. Dion was no sooner seen in Sicily than he was joined by thousands; but the authority of Caesar was so formidable in Rome, that it sup- ported his friends even after he was dead. And a simple boy rose to the first eminence of power by adopting his name; which served as a charm against the envy and the influence of Antony Should it be objected that Dion had the sharpest conflicts in expelling the tyrant, but that Caesar fell naked and unguarded beneath the sword of Brutus, it will argue at least a consummate man- agement and prudence to be able to come at a man of his power, naked and unguard^dr Par- ticularly when it is considered that the blow was not sudden, nor the work of one, or of a few men, > but meditated, and communicated to many associates, of whom not one deceived the leader; for either he had the power of distinguishing honest men at the first view, or such as he chose he made honest, by the confidence he reposed in them. But Dion confided in men of bad princi- ples; so that he must either have been injudicious in his choice; or, if his people grew worse after their appointments, unskillful in his manage- ment. Neither of these can be consistent with the talents and conduct of a wise man; and Plato accordingly, blames him in his letters, for making choice of such friends as, in the end, were his ruin. Dion found no friend to revenge his death, but Brutus received an honorable interment even from his enemy Antony; and Caesar allowed of that public respect which was paid to his mem- ory, as will appear from the following circum- stance. A statue of brass had been erected to him at Milan, in Gallia Cisalpina, which was a fine performance, and a striking likeness. Cffi- sar, as he passed through the town, took notice of it, and summoning the magistrates, in the pres- ence of his attendants, he told them, that they had broken the league, by harboring one of his enemies. The magistrates, as may well be sup- posed, denied it; and stared at each other, pro- foundly ignorant what enemy he could mean. He then turned toward the statue, and knitting his brows, said, " Is not this my enemy that stands here?" The poor Milanese were struck dumb with astonishment: but Caesar told them, with a smile, that he was pleased to find them faithful to their friends in adversity, and ordered that the statue should continue where it was. ARTAXERXES. THE first Artaxerxes, who of all the Persian kings was most distinguished for his moderation and greatness of mind, was surnamed Longima- nus, because his right hand was longer than his left. He was the son of Xerxes. The second Artaxerxes, surnamed Mnemon,* whose life we are going to write, was son to the daughter of the first. For Darius, by his wife Parysatis, had four sons: Artaxerxes, the eldest, Cyrus the sec- ond, and Oslanes and Oxathres the two younger. Cyrus was called after the ancient king of that name, as he is said to have been after the sun; for the Persians called the sun, Cyrus. Artaxerxes at first was named Arsicas,f though Dinon asserts that his original name was Oartes4 But though go called on account of his extraordinary memory. t Or Arsaces. t Or Oarses. Ctesias has filled his books with a number of incredible and extravagant fables, it is not proba- ble that he should be ignorant of the name of a king at whose court he lived, in quality of physi- cian to him, his wife, his moflier, and his child- ren. Cyrus from his infancy was of a violent and impetuous temper; but Artaxerxes had a native mildness, something gentle and moderate in his whole disposition. The latter married a beauti- ful and virtuous lady, by order of his parents, and he kept her when they waut-d him to put her away. For the king having put her brother to death,* designed that she should share his fate. But Arsicas applied to his mother with many Teriteuchmes, the brother of Statira, had been guilty of the complicated crimes of adultery, incest, and munlei; which raised great disturbances in the royal family, and 638 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. tears and entreaties, and, with much difficulty, prevailed upon her not only to spare her life, but. to excuse him from divorcing her. Yet his mother had the greater affection for Cyrus, and was desirous of raising him to the throne; there- fore, when he was called from his residence on the coast, in the sickness of Darius, he re- turned full of hopes that the queen'r, interest had established him successor. Parysatis had, indeed, a specious pretense, which the ancient Xerxes had made use of at the suggestion of Demaratus, that she had brought Darius his son Arsaces when he was in a private station, bat Cyrus when he was a king. However, she could not prevail. Darius appointed his eldest son his suc- cessor; on which occasion his name was changed to Artaxerxes. Cyrus had the government of Lydia, and was to be commander-in-chief on the coast. Soon after the death of Darius, the king, his successor, went to Pasargadae, in order to be con- secrated, according to custom, by the priests of Persia. In that city there is the temple of a god- dess who has the affairs of*war under her patron- age, and therefore, may be supposed to be Min- erva. The prince to be consecrated must enter that temple, put off his own robe there, and take that which was worn by the Great Cyrus before he was king. He must eat a cake of figs, chew some turpentine, and drink a cup of acidulated milk. Whether there are any other ceremonies is unknown, except to the persons concerned. As Artaxerxes was on the point of going to be con- secrated, Tissaphernes brought to him a priest, who had been chief inspector of Cyrus's educa- tion in his infancy, and had instructed him in the learning of the Magi; and therefore might be supposed to be as much concerned as any man in Persia, at his pupil's not being appointed king. For that reason his accusation against Cyrus could not but gain credit. He accused him of a design to lie in wait for the king in the temple, and, after he had put off his garment, to fall upon him and destroy him. Some affirm that Cyrus was immediately seized upon this infor- mation; others, that he got into the temple, and concealed himself there, but was pointed out by the priest, in consequence of which he was put to death; but his mother, at that moment, took him in her arms, bound the tressesof her hair about him, held his neck to her own, and by her tears and entreaties prevailed to have him pardoned, ended in the ruin of all who were concerned in them. Sta- lira was daughter to Hydarnes, governor of one of the chief provinces of the empire. Artaxerxes, then called Arsaces, was charmed with her beauty, and married her. At the same lime Terireuchmes, her hrother, married Hamestris, one of the daughters of Darins, and sister to Arsaces: by reason of which marriage he had interest enough, on his father's demise, to get himself appointed to his government. But in the meantime he conceived a pas- sion lor his own si.-t.er Roxana, no ways inferior in beauty to Statira; and, that he might enjoy her without constraint, resolved lo dispatch his wife Hamestris, and light up the flames of rebellion in the kingdom. Darius being appris- ed ot his design, engaged Udnstres, an intimate f'iend of Teriteuchmes, to kill him, and was rewarded by die king with the government of his province. Upon this some commotions were raised by the son of Teriteuchmes- but the king's forces havnir the superiority, all the family of Hydarnes were apprehended, and delivered to Parysatis that she might execute her revenge upon them for the inju! ry done, or intended to her daughter. That cruel princess put them all to death, except Statira, whom she spared, at the earnest entreaties of her husband Arsaces, contrary to the opinion of Darius But Arsaces was no sooner settled aponthe throne, than Statira prevailed upon him to leave Udiastres to her correction; and she put him to a death too cruel to be described. Parysaiis, in return, poisoned the on of Teriteuchmes; and, not long after, Statira herself Ctes. in Pers. and remanded to the sea-coast. Nevertheless, h was far from being satisfied with his govern- ment. Instead of thinking of his brother's favor with gratitude, he remembered only the indignity of chains; and, in his resentment, aspired more than ever after the sovereignty. Some, indeed, say, that he thought the allow- ance for his table insufficient, and therefore re- volted from his king. But this is a foolish pre- text: for if he had no other resource, his mother would have supplied him with whatever he want- ed out of her revenues. Beside, there needs no greater proof of his riches than the number of foreign troops that he entertained in his service, which were kept for him in various parts by his friends and retainers: for, the better to conceal his preparations, he did not keep his forces in a body, but had his emissaries in different places, who enlisted foreigners on various pretenses. Meanwhile his mother, who lived at court, made it her business to remove the king's suspicions, and Cyrus himself always wrote in a lenient style; sometimes begging a candid interpretation, and sometimes recriminating upon Tissaphernes, as if his contention had been solely with that grandee. Add to this, that the king had a dilato- ry turn of mind, which was natural to him, and which many took for moderation. At first, in- deed, he seemed entirely to imitate the mildness of the first Artaxerxes, whose name he bore, by behaving with great affability to all that address- ed him, and distributing honors and rewards to persons of merit with a lavish hand. He took care that punishments should never be imbittered with insult. If he received presents, he appeared as well pleased as those who offered them, or rather as those who received favors from him; and in conferring favors, he always kept a counten- ance of benignity and pleasure. There was not anything, however trifling, brought him by way of present, which he did not receive kindly. Even when Omisus brought him a pomegranate of uncommon size, he said, "By the light of Mithra, this man, if he were made governor of a small city, would soon make it a great one." When he was once upon a journey, and people presented him with a variety of things by the way, a laboring man, having nothing else to give him, ran to the river, and brought him some water in his hands. Artaxerxes was so much pleased that he sent the man a gold cup and a thousand darics. When Euclides, the Lacedemonian, said many insolent things to him, he contented himself with ordering the captain of his guard to give him this answer, " You may say what you please to the king; but the king would have you to know, that he can not only say, but do." One day, as he was hunting, Tiribazus showed him a rent in his robe ; upon which the king said, "What shall I do with it?" "Put on another, and give that to me," said Tiribazus " It shall be so," said the king: " I give it thee, but I charge thee not to wear it." Tiribazus, who, though not a bad man, was giddy and vain, disregarding the restriction, soon put on the robe, and at the same time tricked himself out with some golden ornaments, fit only for queens. The court expressed great indignation ; because it was a thing contrary to their laws and customs: but the king only laughed, and said to him, " I allow thee to wear the trinkets as a woman, and the robe as a madman." None had been admitted to the king of Persia's table but his mother and his wife; the former of which sat above him, and the latter below him: Artaxerxes, nevertheless, did that honor to Os- ARTAXERXES. 639 ines and Oxathres, two of his 3 7 ounger brothers, i the assassination took place, or could have any But what afforded the Persians the most pleasing I reason to misrepresent the date of it; though he upectacle was the queen Statira always riding in j often deviates into fictitious tales, and loves to her chariot with the curtains open, and admitting! give us invention instead of truth. We shall the women of the country to approach and salute i therefore leave this story to the order of time in her. These things made his administration pop- which he has placed it. ular. Yet there were some turbulent and factious While Cyrus was upon his march, he had ac- men, who represented that the affairs of Persia I counts brought him that the king did not design required a king of such a magnificent spirit, so) to try the fortune of the field by giving battle able a warrior, and so generous a master as Cyrus I immediately, but to wait in Persia until his was; and that the dignity of so great an empire forces were assembled there from all parts of his could not be supported without a prince of highj kingdom. And though he had drawn a trench thoughts and noble ambition. It was not, there- i across the plain ten fathoms wide, as many deep,* fore, without a confidence in some of the Per- I and four hundred furlongs in length, yet he suf- sians, as well as in the maritime provinces, that { fered Cyrus to pass him, and to inarch almost to Cyrus undertook the war. He wrote also to the Lacedaemonians for assist- ance; promising, that to the foot he would give horses, and to the horsemen chariots; that on those who had farms he would bestow villages, and on those who had villages, cities. As for their pay, he assured them it should not bt count- ed, but measured cut to them. At the same time he spoke in very high terms of himself, tell- ing them he had a greater and more princely heart than his brother; that he was the better philosopher, being instructed in the doctrines of the Magi, and that he could drink and bear more wine than his brother. Artaxerxes, he said, was so timorous and effeminate a man that he could not sit a horse in hunting, nor a chariot in time of war. The Lacedaemonians, therefore, sent the scytale to Clearchus, with orders to serve Cyrus in everything he demanded.* Cyrus began his march against the king with a numerous army of barbarians,! and almost thir- teen thousand Greek mercenaries.^ He found one pretense after another for having such an ar- mament on foot; but his real designs did not re- main long undiscovered. For Tissaphernes went in person to inform the king of them. This news put the court in great disorder. Pa- rysatis was censured as the principal cause of this war, and her friends were suspected of a pri- vate intelligence with Cyrus. Statira, in. her dis- tress about the war, gave Parysatis the most trouble. "Where is now," she cried, " that faith which you pledged? Where your interces- sions, by which you saved the man that was con- spiring against his brother? Have they not brought war and all its calamities upon us?" These expostulations fixed in the heart of Pary- satis, who was naturally vindictive and barbarous in her resentment and revenge, such a hatred of Statira that she contrived to take her off. Dinon writes, that this cruel purpose was put in execu- tion during the war; but Ctesias assures us, it was after it. And it is not probable that he, who was an eye-witness to the transactions of that court, could either be ignorant of the time when They took care not to mention Artaxerxes, pretending Dot to be privy to the designs that were carrying on against him. This precaution they used, that in case Artaxerxes should get the better of his brother, they might justify themselves to him in what they had done. Xenop/i. de ' Expedit,. Cyri. I. i. t A hundred thousand barbarians. j Clearchus, the Lacedaemonian, comn.anded all the Pel- oponne.sian troops, except the Achseans, who were led by Socrates of Achaia. The Boeotians were under Proxenes, a Theban; and the Thessalians under Menon. The other nations were commanded by Persian generals, of whom Ariacus was the chief. The fleet consisted of thirty-five hips, under Pythagoras, a Lacedzemonian; and twenty- five commanded by Tamos, an Egyptian, who was admiral of the whole fleet. On this occasion Proxenes presented Xenophon to Cyrus, \v\io gave him a commission among the Greek mercenaries Babylon. f Tiribazus. we are told, was the first who ventured to remonstrate to the king, that he ought not any longer to avoid an action, nor to abandon Media, Babylon, and even Susa to the enemy, and hide himself in Persia; since he had an army infinitely greater than theirs, and ten thousand Satrapae and other officers, all of them superior to those of Cyrus, both in courage and conduct. Upon this he took a resolution to come to ac- tion as soon as possible. His sudden appearance with an army of nine hundred thousand men, well prepared and accoutered, extremely surpris- ed the rebels, who, through the confidence they had in themselves, and contempt of their eemy, were marching in great confusion, and even without their arms. So that it was with great difficulty that Cyrus reduced them to any order; and he could not do it at last without much noise and tumult. As the king advanced iu silence, and at a slow pace, the good discipline of hia troops afforded an astonishing spectacle to the Greeks, who expected among such a multitude nothing but disorderly shouts and motions, and every other instance of distraction and confusion. He showed his judgment, loo, in placing the strongest of his armed chariots before that part of his phalanx which was opposite to the Greeks, that by the impetuosity of their motion they might break the enemy's ranks before they came to close combat. Many historians have described this battle; but Xenophon has done it with such life and energy that we do not read an account of it; we see it; and feel all the danger. It would be very ab- surd, therefore, to attempt anything after him, except the mentioning some material circum- stances which he has omitted. The place where the battle was fought is called Cunaxa, and is five hundred furlongs from Baby- lon. A little before the action, Clearchus advised Cyrus to post himseil behind the Macedonians,^ and not risk his person; upon which he is re- ported to have said, " What advice is this, Clear- chus? Would you have me, at the very time I am aiming at a crown, to show myself unworthy of one?" Cyrus, indeed, committed an error iu rushing into the midst of the greatest danger with- out care or caution; but Clearchus was guilty of another as great, if not greater, in not consenting to place his Greeks opposite to the king, and in getting the river on his right to prevent his being surrounded. For if safety was his principal ob- ject, and he was by all means to avoid loss, he * Xenophon says, this trench was only five fathoms wide, and three deep. t There was a passage twenty feet wide left between the trench, and the Euphrates, and Artaxerxes neglected to defend it. J This is undoubtedly the error of some transcriber; and for Macedonians, we should read Lacedaemonians. 640 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ought to have staid at home. But to carry his arms ten thousand furlongs from the sea, without necessity or constraint, and solely witli a view to place Cyrus on the throne of Persia, and then not to be solicitous for a post where he might best de- fend his prince whose pay he received, but for one in which he might act most at ease and in the greatest safety, was to behave like a man who, on the sight of present danger, abandons the whole enterprise, and forgets the purpose of his expedi- tion. For it appears, from the course of the action, that if the Greeks had charged those that were posted about the king's person, they would not have stood the shock; and after Artaxerxes had been slain, or put to flight, the conqueror must have gained the crown without further interrup- tion. Therefore, the ruin of Cyrus's affairs and his death is much rather to be ascribed to the caution of Clearcbus,.than to his own rashness; for, if the king himself had been to choose a post for the Greeks, where they might do him the least prejudice, he could not have pitched upon a bet- ter than that which was most remote from himself and the troops about him. At the distance he was from Clearchus, lie knew not of the defeat of that part of his army which was near the river, and Cyrus was cut off before he could avail himself of the advantages gained by the Greeks. Cyrus, indeed, was sensible what dispo- sition would have been of most service to him, and for that reason ordered Clearchus to charge in the center; but Clearchus ruined all, notwith- standing his assurances of doing everything for the best; for the Greeks beat the barbarians with ease, and pursued them a considerable way. In the meantime, Cyrus being mounted on Pasacas, a horse of great spirit, but at the same time head- strong and unruly, fell in, as Ctesias tells us, with Artagerses, general of the Caducians, who met him upon the gallop, and called out to him in these terms: " Most unjust and most stupid of men, who disgracest the name of Cyrus, the most august of all names among the Persians; thou leadest these brave Greeks a vile way to plunder thy native country, and to destroy thy brother and thy king, who has many millions of servants that are better men than thou. Try if he has not, and here thou shall lose thy head, before thou canst see the face of the king." So saying, he threw his javelin at him with all his force; but his cuirass was of such excellent temper that he was not wounded, though the violence of the blow shook him in his seat. Then as Artagerses was turning his horse, Cyrus aimed a stroke at him with his spear, and the point of it entered at his collar bone, and pierced through his neck. That Artagerses fell by the hand of Cyrus, almost all historians agree; as to the death of Cyrus him- self, since Xenophon has given a very short ac- count of it, because he was not ou the spot when it happened, perhaps it may not be amiss to give the manner of it in detail, as Dinou and Ctesias have represented it. Dinon tells us that Cyrus, after he had slain Arta- gerses, charged the vanguard of Artaxerxes with great fury, wounded the king's horse and dis- mounted him. Tiribazus immediately mounted him on another horse, and said, "Sir, remember this day, for it deserves not to be forgotten." At the second attack, Cyrus spurred his horse against the king, and gave him a wound;* at the third, Artaxerxes, in great indignation, said to those that were by, " It is better to die than to suffer all this." * Or, with the violence of the encounter, beat the kins from Mf horse. At the same time he advanced against Cyrus, who was rashly advancing to meet a shower of darts. The king wounded him with his javelin, and others did the same. Thus fell Cyrus, as some say, by the blow which the king gave him, but, according to others, it was a Carian soldier, who dispatched him, and .who afterward, for his ex- ploit, had the honor of carrying a golden cock, at the head of the army, on the point of his spear. For the Persians called the Carian.s cocks, on ac- count of the crests with which they adorned their helmets. Ctesias's story is very long, but the purport of it is this. When Cyrus had slain Artagerses, he pushed his horse up toward the king, and the king advanced age.inst him; both in silence. Ari- acus one of the friends of Cyrus, first aimed a blow at the king, but did not wound him. Then the king threw his javelin at Cyrus, hut missed him; the weapon, however, did execution upon Tissaphernes,* a man of approved valor, and a faithful servant to Cyrus. It was now Cyrus's turn to drive his javelin; it pierced the king's cuirass, and going two fingers deep into his breast, brought him from his horse. This caused such disorder in his troops that they tied. But the king recovering, retired with a few of his men, among whom was Ctesias, to an eminence not far off, and there reposed himself. In the meantime, Cyrus's horse, grown more furious by the action, carried him deep among the enemy; and as night was coming on, they did not know him, and his own men sought for him in vain. Elated, however, with victory, and naturally daring and impetuous, he kept on, crying out in the Per- sian language as he went, " Make way, ye slaves, make way." They humbled themselves, and opened their ranks; but his tiara happened to fall from his head, and a young Persian, named Mithridates, in passing, wounded him with hi* lance, in the temple near his eye, without knowing who he was. Such a quantity of blood issued from the wound that he was seized with a gid- diness, and fell senseless from his horse. The horse, having lost his rider, wandered about the field; the furniture, too, was fallen off, and the servant of Mithridates, who had given him th wound, took it up, all stained with blood. At last, Cyrus, with much difficulty, began to recover from his swoon, and a few eunuchs, who attended him, endeavored to mount him on an- other horse, and so to carry him out of danger, But, as he was too weak to sit a horse, he thought it better to walk, and the eunuchs supported him as he went. His head was still heavy, and he tottered at every step; yet he imagined himself victorious, because he heard the fugitives calling Cyrus king, and imploring mercy. At that instant some Caunians of mean condi- tion, who performed the most servile offices for the royal army, happened to mix with the com- pany of Cyrus as friends. They perceived, how- ever, though not without difficulty, that the clothing of his people was red, whereas that given by the king, their master, was white. One of these then ventured to give Cyrus a stroke with his spear behind, without knowing him to be the prince. The weapon hit his ham, and cut the sinew; upon which he fell, and in falling dashed his wounded temple against a stone, and died upon the spot. Such is Ctesias's story of the death of * Tissaphernes is probably an erroneous reading. W know of no Tissaphernes but the erandee of 'hat name, who was a faithful servant to Artaxerxes. ~/r.e of th* manuscripts gives us Satiphcrnes. : ARTAXERXES. 641 Cyrus, which, like a blunt weapon, hacks and hews him a long time, and can hardly kill him at last. Soon after Cyrus expired, an officer, who was called the King's Eye, passed that way. Artasyras, (for that was his name) knowing the eunuchs who were mourning over the corpse, addressed him who appeared to be most faithful to his mas- ter, and saia, " Pariscas, who is that whom thou art lamenting so much 7 " "O Artasyras," an- swered the eunuch, " see you not prince Cyrus dead?" Artasyrus was astonished at the event; however, lie desired the eunuch to compose him- self, and take care of the corpse; and then rode at full speed to Artaxerxes, who had given up all for lost, and was ready to faint, both with thirst and with the anguish of his wound. In these cir- cumstances the ofiicer found him, and with a joyful accent hailed him in these words, "I have seen Cyrus dead." The king at first was impa- tient to see the dead body himself, and commanded Artasyras immediately to conduct him to it. But rinding all the field full of terror and dismay, upon a report that the Greeks, victorious in their quar- ter, were pursuing the fugitives and putting all to the sword, he thought proper to send out a greater number to reconnoiter the place which Artasyras had told him of. Accordingly thirty men went with flambeaux in their hands. Still the king was almost dying with thirst, and the eunuch Sati- barzanes sought every place for water; for the field afforded none, and they were at a great dis- tance from the carnp. After much search, he found one of those poor Caunians had about two quarts of bad water in a mean bottle, and he took it and carried it to the king. After the king had drank it all up the eunuch asked him, " If he did not find it disagreeable beverage?" Upon which he swore by all the gods, " That he had never drank the most delicious wine, nor the lightest and clearest water, with so much pleasure. I wish only," continued he, " that I could find the man who gave it thee, that I might make him a recompense. In the meantime I entreat the gods to make him happy and rich." While he was speaking, the thirty men whom he had sent out, returned in great exultation, and con- firmed the news of his unexpected good fortune. Now, likewise, numbers of his troops repaired to him again, and, dismissing his fears, he descended from the eminence, with many torches carried before him. When he came to the dead body, according to the law of the Persians, the right hand and the head were cut off: and having ordered the head to be brought to him, he took it by the hair, which was long and thick, and showed it to the fugitives, and to such as were still doubt- ful of the fortune of the day. They were aston- ished at the sight, and prostrated themselves be- fore him. Seventy thousand men soon assembled about him, and with them he returned to his camp. Ctesias tells us, he had led four hundred thousand men that day into the field; but Dinon and Xenophon make that number much greater. As to the number of the killed, Ctesias says, an account only of nine thousand was brought to Artaxerxes; whereas there appeared to Ctesias himself, to be no fewer than twenty thousand. That article, therefore, must be left dubious. But nothing can be a more palpable falsity than what Ctesias adds, that he was sent ambassador to the Greeks in conjunction with Phayllus, the Zacyn- thian, and some others; for Xenophon knew that Ctesias was at the Persian court; he mentions him in his works, and it is plain that he had met with bus books. Therefore, if he had been joined in 41 ommission to settle such important affairs, ho would not have passed him by unnoticed, but would have mentioned him with Phayllus. Ct- sias, indeed, was a man of unbounded vanity, as veil as strong attachment to Clearchus; and for .hat reason always leaves a corner in the story for limself, when he is dressing out the praises of Clearchus and the Lacedaemonians. After the battle, the king sent great and valua- )le presents to the son of Artagerses, who was slain by Cyrus. He rewarded also Ctesias and others in a distinguished manner; and having found the Caunian who gave him the bottle of water, he raised him, from indigence and ob- scurity to riches and honors. There was some- thing of an analogy between his punishments and the crime. One Arbaces, a Mede, in the battle deserted to Cyrus, and after that prince was killed, came back to his colors. .As he perceived that the man had done it rather out of cowardice than any treasonable design, all the penalty he laid upon him was, to carry about him a naked courtesan upon his shoulders a whole day in the market- place. Another, beside deserting, had given it out that he had killed two of the enemy; and for his punishment he only ordered his tongue to be pierced through with three needles. He supposed, and he was desirous of having it passed upon the world, that Cyrus fell by his hand. This induced him to send valuable presents to Mithridates, who gave him the first wound, and to instruct the messengers to say, " The king does you this honor, because you found the furniture of Cyrus's horse, and brought it to him." And when the Carian, who gave Cyrus the stroke in his ham that caused his death, asked for his reward, he ordered those who gave it him to say, " The king bestows this upon you, because you were the second person that brought him good tidings. For Artasyras was the first, and you the next that brought him an account of the death of Cyrus." Mithridates went away in silence, though not with- out concern. But the unhappy Carian could not conquer the common disease of vanity. Elated with what he thought his good fortune, and aspir- ing to things above his walk in life, he would not receive his reward for tidings, but angrily insist- ed, and called the gods and men to witness, that he, and no other man, killed Cyrus: and that it was not just to rob him of the glory. The king was so much incensed at this that he ordered the man's head to be cut off. But his mother Parysatis being present, said, " Let not this villanous Carian go off so: leave him to me and he shall have the reward which his audacious tongue deserves." Accordingly the king gave him up to her, and .she delivered him to the exe- cutioners, with orders to torture him for ten days, and then to tear out his eyes, and pour molt- en brass into his ears until he expired. Mithridates also came to a miserable end soon after, through his own folly. Being invited one evening to supper, where both the eunuchs of the king, and those of his mother were present, he went in a robe embroidered with gold, which he had received from the king. During the enter- tainment, Parysatis's principal eunuch took occa- sion to say, "What a beautiful garment is this, Mithridates, which the king has given you! hovr handsome are those bracelets and that chain! how valuable your scimitar! he has certainly made you not only a great, but a happy man." Mith- ridates, who by this time was flushed with wine, made answer, "What are these things, Spara- mixes? I deserve much greater marks of honor than these for the services I rendered the 642 PLU TAKC H'S LIVES. that day." Then Sparamixes replied, with a smile, " I speak not in the least out of envy; but since, according to the Greek proverb, there is trutli in wine, let me tell you my mind freely, and ask you what great matter it is to find a horse's furniture fallen off, and bring it to the king?" This he said, not that he was ignorant of the real state ,of the case; but because he want- ed to lay him open, and saw that the wine hud made him talkative, and taken him off his guard, he studied to pique his vanity. Mithridates, no longer master of himself, said, " You may talk of what furniture and what trifles you please; but I tell you plainly, it was by this hand that Cyrus was slain. For I did not, like Artaxerxes, throw my javelin in vain, but pierced his temples near the eye, and brought him to the ground; and of that wound he died." The rest of the compa- ny saw the dreadful fate that would befall Mithri- dates, and looked with dejected eyes upon the ground; but he who gave the entertainment said, " Let us now attend to our eating and drinking; and, adoring the fortune of the king, let such matters alone as are too high for us." Immediately after the company broke up, the eunuch told Parysatis what had been said, and she informed the king. Artaxerxes, like a person detected, and one who had lost a victory out of his hands, was enraged at this discovery. For he was desirous of making all the barbarians and Greeks believe, that in the several encounters he both gave and received blows; and that though he was wounded himself, he killed his adversary. He therefore condemned Mithridates to the pun- ishment of the Boat. The manner of it is this. They take two boats, which are made to fit each other, and extend the criminal in one of them in a supine posture. Then they turn the other upon it, so that the poor wretch's body is cover- ed, and only the head and hands are out at one end, and the feet at the other. They give him victuals daily, and if he refuses to eat, they com- pel him by pricking him in the eyes. After he has eaten, they make him drink a mixture of honey and milk, which they pour into his mouth. They spread the same, too, over his face, and al- ways turn him so as to have the sun full in his eyes; the consequence of which is, that his face is covered with swarms of flies. As all the neces- sary evacuations of a man who eats and drinks are within the boat, the filthiness and corruption engender a quantity of worms, which consume his flesh, and penetrate to his entrails. When they find that the man is dead, they take off the Upper boat, and have the spectacle of a carcass whose flesh is eaten away, and of numberless vermin clinging to and gnawing the bowels. Mithridates with much difficulty found death, after he had been consumed in this manner for seventeen days. There remained now no other mark for the vengeance of Parysatis, but Mesabates, one of the king's eunuch's, who cut off Cyrus's head and hand. As he took care to give' her no handle against him, she laid this scheme for his destruc- tion. She was a woman of keen parts in all res- pects, and in particular she played well at dice. The king often played with her before the war, and being reconciled to her after it, took the same diversion with her. She was even the confidant of his pleasures, and scrupled not to assist in any- thing of gallantry. Statira indeed was the object of her hatred, and she let her have a small share of the king's com- pany; for she was determined to have the princi- pal interest with him herself. One day, finding Artaxerxes wanted something to pass away the time, she challenged him to play for a thousand darics, and purposely managed her dice so ill, that she lost. She paid the money immediately, but pretended to be much chagrined, and called on him to play again for an eunuch. He con- sented to the proposal, and they agreed each of them toexccept five of their most faithful eu- nuchs; the winner was to have his choice out of the rest. On these conditions they played. The queen, who had the affair at heart, exerted all her skill, and being favored beside, by the dice, won the eunuch, and pitched upon Mesubates, who was not of the number of the excepted. He was immediately delivered to her, and before the king suspected anything of her intentions, she put him in the hands of the executioners, with orders to flay him alive, and fix his body on three stakes, and to stretch out his skin by itself. The king was highly incensed, and expressed his re- sentment in strong terms: but she only said in a laughing ironical way, "This is pleasant indeed, that you must be so angry about an old useless eunuch, while I say not a word of my loss of a thousand darics." The king, though much con- cerned at the imposition, held his peace. But Statira, who on other occasions openly censured the practice of the queen-mother, complained now of the injustice and cruelty, in sacrificing to Cy- rus the eunuchs, and other faithful servants of the king. After Tissaphernes* had deceived Clearchus and the other Grecian officers, and, contrary to the treaty and his oaths, put them in chains, Cte- sias tells us, that Clearchus made interest with him for the recovery of a comb. When he had obtained it, it seems, he was so much pleased with the use of it, that he took his ring from his finger, and gave it Ctesias, that it might appear as a token of his regard for him to his friends and rela- tions in Lacedemon. The device was a dance of the Caryatides, f He adds, that whenever provisions were sent to Clearchus, his fellow pris- oners took most of them for themselves, and left him a very small share; but that he corrected this abuse, by procuring a larger quantity to be sent to Clearchus, and separating the allowance of the others from his. All this (according to our author) was done with the consent, and by the favor of Parysatis. As he sent every day a gammon of bacon among the provisions, Clear- chus suggested to him, that he might easily con- ceal a small dagger in the fleshy part, and begged earnestly that he would do it, that his fate might not be left to the cruel disposition of Artaxerxes; but, through fear of the king's displeasure, he re- fused it. The king, however, at the request of his mother, promised upon oath, not to put Clear- chus to death; but afterward he was persuaded, by Statira, to destroy all the prisoners, except Me noil. On this account he tells us Parysatis plotted against Statira, and resolved to take her off by poison. But it is a great absurdity in Cte- sias to assign so disproportionate a cause. Would Parysatis, for the sake of Clearchus, undertake * Tissaphernes, by promises which he did not intend to keep, drew Clearchus to an interview in his tent. He went with four principal officers and twenty captains to wait on the Persian, who put Clearchus and the four officers under arrest, arid ordered the twenty captains to be cut in fteces. Some time after the king commanded Clearchus, and all the four officers, except Menon, to be beheaded. Xenoph de. Exped. Cyri, I. ii. t Carya was a town in Laconia, where there was a tem- ple of hiana. Indeed the whole town was dedicated t Diana and her nymphs. In the court before the tempi* stood a statue of Diana Caryatis, and the Spartan virgini kept a yearly festival on which they danced around it. ARTAXERXES. 643 BO horrid and dangerous an enterprise as that of poisoning the king's lawful wife, by whom he had children and an heir to his crown? It is clear enough that he tells this fabulous tale to do honor to the memory of Clearchus. For he adds that the carcasses of the other officers were torn in pieces by dogs and birds; but that a storm of wine brought a great heap of sand, and provided a tomb for Clearchus. Around this heap there sprung up a number of palm trees, which soon grew into an admirable grove, and spread their protecting shade over the place; so that the king repentec greatly of what lie had done, believing that he had destroyed a man who was a favorite of the gods. It was, therefore, only from the hatred and jealousy which Parysatis had entertained of Sta- tira from the first, that she embarked in so cruel a design. She saw that her own power with the king depended only on his reverence for her as his mother; whereas that of Statira was founded in love, and confirmed by the greatest confidence in her fidelity. The point she had to carry was great, and she resolved to make one desperate ef- fort. Slie had a faithful and favorite attendant, named Gigis, who as Dion tells us, assisted in the affair of the poison; but, according to Ctesias, she was only conscious of it, and that against her will. The former calls the person, who provided the poison, Melantas; the latter, Beli- taras. These two princesses had, in appearance, forgot their old suspicions and animosities, and began to visit and eat at each other's table. But they did it with so much distrust and caution as to make it a rule to eat of the same dish, and even of the same slices. There is a small bird in Per- sia, which has no excrements, the intestines being only filled with fat; on which account it is sup- posed to live upon air and dew: the name of it is rhynlaces. Ctesias writes, that Parysatis divided one of these birds with a small knife that was poisoned on one side, and taking the vvholesomer part herself, gave the other to Statira. Dion, however, affirms, that it was not Parysatis, but Melantas, who cut the bird in two, and present- ed the poisoned part to Statira. Be that as it may, she died in dreadful agonies and convul- sions; and was not only sensible herself of the cause, but intimated her suspicions to the king, who knew too well the savage and implacable temper of his mother: he, therefore, immediate- ly made an inquisition into the affair. He took her officers and servants that attended at her table, and put them to the torture. But she kept Gigis in her own apartment: and when the king de- manded her, refused to give her up. At last Gigis begged of the queen-mother to let her go in the night to her own house; and the king be- ing informed of it, ordered some of his guards to intercept her. Accordingly she was seized and condemned to die. The laws of Persia have pro- vided this punishment for poisoners: their heads are placed on a broad stone, and then crushed with another, until nothing of the figure re- mains. In that manner was Gigis executed. As for Parysatis, the king did not reproach her with her crime, nor punish her any far- ther than by sending her to Babylon (which was the place she desired to retire to), and declaring that he would never visit that city while she lived. Such was the state of his domestic affairs. He was no less solicitous to get the Greeks into his hands, who had followed Cyrus into Asia, than he had been to conquer Cyrus himself, and to keep the crown. But he could not succeed.* For though they had lost Cyrus their general, and their own officers, yet they forced their way, as it were, out of the very palace of Artaxerxes, and made it ap- pear to all the world that the Persians and their king had nothing to value themselves upon but wealth, luxury, and women; and that the rest was mere parade and ostentation. This gave fresh spirits to the Greeks, and taught them to despise the barbarians. The Lacedaemonians, in particular, thought it would be a great dishonor, if they did not now deliver the Asiatic Greeks from servitude, and put an end to the insults of thfi Persians. Their first attempt was under the direction of Thimbro, and the next under that of Dercyllidas; but as those generals effected nothing of importance, the conduct of the war was given to Agesilaus. That prince immediate- ly passed into Asia with his fleet, and soon dis- tinguished himself by his vigorous operations, for he defeated Tissaphernes in a pitched battle, and brought over several cities. By these losses Artaxerxes understood what was his best method of making war. He there- fore sent Hermocrates the Rhodian, into Greece, with a great quantity of gold, havinginstructed him to corrupt with it the leading men among the states, and to stir up a Grecian war against Lacedaemon. Hermocrates acquitted himself so well in his commission that the most considerable cities leagued against Sparta, and there were such com- motions in Peloponnesus that the magistrates were forced to recall Agesilaus from Asia. On leaving that country he is reported to have said to his friends, " The king drives me out of Asia with thirty thousand archers." For the Persian money bore the impression of an archer. Artaxerxes deprived the Lacedaemonians of the dominion of the sea, by means of Conon, the Athenian, who acted in conjunction with Pharna- bazus. For Conon, after he had lost the sea- fight at JEgos Potamos, took up his abode in Cy- prus; not merely to provide for his own safety, but to wait for a change of affairs, as mariners wait for the turn of the tide. As he saw that his own plan wanted' a respectable power to carry it into execution, and that the Persian power requir- ed a person of ability to conduct it, he wrote the king an account of the measures he had concert- ed. The messenger was ordered to get the letter delivered into his hands by Zeno the Cretan, who danced in the revels, or by Polycritus the Men- daean, who was his physician; and in case of their absence, by Ctesias, another physician. The let- ter, we are told, was given to Ctesias, and he ad- ded to it this paragraph, " I desire you, sir, to send Ctesias to me, for he will be very serviceable in the business of the navy." But Ctesias af- firms, that the king, without any kind of solici- tation, put him upon this service. After Artaxerxes had gained, by Conon and Pharnabazus, the battle of Cnidus, which strip- ped the Lacedaemonians of the empire of the sea, *The Greeks were at a vast distance from their own country, in the very heart of the Persian empire, sur- rounded by a numerous army flushed with victory; and had no way to return again into Greece, but by forcing their retreat through an immense tract of the enemy's country. But their valor and resolution mastered all these difficul- ties, and, in spite of a powerful army which pursued and harassed them all the way, they made a retreat of two thousand three hundred and twenty-five miles, through the provinces belonging to the Persians, and got safe to the Greek cities on the Euxine sea. Clearchus had the con- duct of this march at first; but he being cut off by th treachery of Tissaphernes, Xenophon was chosen ;n hi room; and to his valor and wisdom it was chiefly owing that at length they got safe into Greece. 644 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. he arew almost all Greece into his interest ; insomuch that the celebrated peace, called the Peace of Antalcidas, was entirely of his mod- eling. Antalcidas was a Spartan, the son of Leon, and so strongly attached to the king, that he prevailed with the Lacedaemonians to give up to him all the Greek cities in Asia, and the islands, which are reckoned among its dependencies, to be held as his tributaries, in virtue of the peace; if we can call that a peace by which Greece was dishonored and betrayed ; which was indeed so vile a bargain that the most unsuccessful war could have terminated in nothing more inglorious. Hence it was that Artaxerxes, though, accord- ing to Dinon's account, lie always detested the other Spartans as the most impudent of men, yet expressed a great regard for Antalcidas, when he came to his court. One evening, he took a chap- let of flowers from his head, dipped it in the richest essences, and sent it from his table to Antalcidas. All the court was astonished at such a mark of favor. But there seems to have been a propriety in making him so ridiculous a compliment;* and he was a fit man to wear such a crown, who could take off Leonidas and Callicratides in a dance before the Persians. Somebody happening to say in the hearing of Agesilaus, " Alas, for Greece! when the Lacedaemonians are turning Persians," he corrected him and said, " No; the Medes are rather turning Lacedaemonians." But the wit of the expression did not remove the disgrace of the thing. They lost tiieir superior- ity in Greece by the ill-fought battle of Leuctra, as they had lost their honor by the vile conditions of this peace. So long as Sparta kept the lead, the king ad- mitted Antalcidas to the privileges of hospitality, and called him his friend. But when, upon their defeat at Leuctra, the Spartans sent Agesilaus into Egypt, to get a supply of money, and An- talcidas went upon the same business to the Per- sian court, Artaxerxes treated him with so much neglect and contempt, that between the ridicule he suffered from his enemies, and his fear of the resentment of the ephori, he resolved, on his re- turn, to starve himself to death. Ismenias the Theban, and Pelopidas, who had lately won the battle of Leuctra, went also to the court of Ar- taxerxes. Pelopidas submitted to nothing unwor- thy of his country or character; but Ismenias being commanded to adore the king, purposely let his ring fall from his finger, and then, by stooping to take it up, appeared in a posture of adoration. Timagoras the Athenian, having given the king some secret intelligence in a letter which he sent by a secretary named Beluris, he was so much pleased that he made him a present of ten thousand darics. The same Timagoras wanted a supply of cows' milk, on account of a languishing disorder, and Artaxerxes ordered eighty cows for his use, which were to follow him wherever he went. He likewise sent him a bed with the necessary coverlets, and Persian ser- vants to make it, because he thought the Greeks not skilled in that art; and he ordered him to be carried to the sea-side in a litter, on account of his indisposition. To this we may add the allow- ance for his table while he was at court, which was so magnificent that Ostanes, the king's brother, one day said to him, " Timagoras, re- member this table, for it is not so sumptuous for nothing." This was rather reproaching him * It was a compliment entirely out of character to a La- aedsemonian, who, as such, wus'supposed to value himself npon the simplicity of his manners, and on avoiding all approaches to luxury. with his treason than calling for his acknowledg* ments: and, indeed, Timagoras, on his return, was capitally condemned by the Athenians foi taking bribes. Artaxerxes, in some measure, atoned for the causes of sorrow he gave the Greeks, by doing one thing that afforded them great pleasure: h put Tissaphernes, their most implacable enemy, to death. This he did partly at the instigation of Parysatis, who added other charges to those al- leged against him; for he did not long retain his anger, but was reconciled to his mother, and sent I for her to court; because he saw she had under- standing and spirit enough to assist in governing the kingdom, and there now remained no farther cause of suspicions and uneasiness between them. From this time she made it a rule to please the king in all her measures, and not to oppose any of his inclinations, by which she gained an abso- lute ascendant over him. She perceived that he had a strong passion for one of his own daughters, named Atossa. He endeavored, indeed, to con- ceal it on his mother's account, and restrained it in public; though, according to some authors, he had already a private commerce with the prin- cess. Parysatis no sooner suspected the intrigue, than she caressed her grand-daughter more than ever; and was continually praising to Artaxerxes both her beauty and her behavior, in which she assured him there was something great and wor- thy of a crown. At last, she persuaded him to make her his wife, without regarding' the laws and opinions of the Greeks: " God," said she, " has made you a law to the Persians, and a rule of right and wrong." Some historians, among whom is Heraclides of Cum, affirm, that Artax- erxes married not only Atossa, but another of his daughters, named Amestris, of whom we shall speak by and by. His affection for Atossa was so strong, that though she had a leprosy, which spread itself over her body, he was not disgusted at it; but he was daily imploring Juno for her, and grasping the dust of her temple; for he paid his homage to no other goddess. At the same time, by his order, his great officers sent so many offerings to her shrine that the whole space between the palace and the temple, which was sixteen fur- longs, was filled with gold, silver, purple, and fine horses. He sent Pharnabazus and Iphicrates to make war upon the ^Egyptians ; but the expedition miscarried through the difference which happen- ed between the generals he employed. After this he went in person against the Cadusians, with three hundred thousand foot, and ten thou- sand horse. Their country is rough and uneven, and covered with perpetual fogs. As it produces no corn or fruits by cultivation, the inhabitants, a fierce and warlike race of men, live upon wild pears, apples, and other things of that kind. He, therefore, insensibly, fell into great danger and distress; for his troops could find no provision there, nor could they be supplied from any other place. They were forced to kill their beasts of burden, and eat them; and those became so scarce that an ass's head was sold for sixty drachmas. The king's table itself was ill supplied; and there remained only a few horses, all the rest having been used for food. In this extremity, Tiribazus, who often was in high favor on account of his valor, and often de- graded for his levity, and who, at this very time, was in the greatest disgrace, saved the king and his whole army by the following stratagem. The Cadusians having two kings, each had his separ- ate camp. Upon this Tiribazus formed his scheme; ARTAXERXES. 645 and, after he had communicated it to Artaxerxes, , went himself to one of those princes, and sent | his son to the other. Each imposed upon the king he applied to, by pretending that the other was going to send a private embassy to Artax- erxes, to negotiate a separate alliance. " But if you are wise," said they, " you will be beforehand with your rival, and we will assist you in the whole affair." This argument had its effect; arid each, persuaded that the other was undermining him out of envy, sent his ambassadors; the one with Tiribazus, and the other with his son. As gome time passed before they returned, Artax- erxes began to suspect; and there were those who suggested that Tiribazus had some traitorous de- sign. The king was extremely dejected, and re- penting of the confidence he had reposed in him, gave ear to all the calumnies of iiis enemies. But at last Tiribazus arrived, as did also his son, with the Cadusian ambassadors, and peace was made with both parties; in consequence of which Tiribazus returned with the king in greater es- teem and authority than ever. During this expe- dition, Artaxerxes showed that timidity and effeminacy ought not to be ascribed, as they gen- erally are, to the pomp and luxuries of life, but to a native meanness and a depraved judgment: for neither the gold, the purple, nor the jewels, which the king always wore, and which were worth no less than twelve thousand talents, hin- dered him from bearing the same fatigues and hardships with the meanest soldier in his army. He took his quiver on his back, and his buckler upon his arm, and quitting his horse, would often march foremost up the most craggy and difficult places ; insomuch that others found their task much lighter, when they saw the strength and alacrity with which he proceeded: for he march- ed above two hundred furlongs a day. At last he arrived at one of his own palaces, where there were gardens and parks of great ex- tent and beauty, though the country around it was naked and barren. As the weather was ex- ceedingly cold, he permitted his men to cut wood out of his own parks, without sparing either pine or cypress; and when the soldiers were loth to touch trees of such size and beauty, he took an ax in his own hand, and laid it to the finest tree among them. After whfch they cut them down without scruple, and having made a number of fires, passed the night with great satisfaction. He found, however, on his arrival at his capital, that he had lost many brave men, and almost all his horses; and imagining that he was despised for his losses, and the ill success of the expedition, he became suspicious of his grandees. Many of them he put to death in anger, and more out of fear; for fear is the most sanguinary principle a tyrant can act from; courage, on the contrary, is merciful, mild, and unsuspicious. Thus the most timorous animals are the hardest to be tamed; but the more generous, having less suspicion, because they have less fear, fly not the caresses and society of men. Artaxerxes being now far advanced in years, ob- served his sous making parties for the crown among Iiis friends and the rest of the nobility. The more equitable part were for his leaving it to his eldest son Darius, as he had received it from his father in the same right. But his younger son Ochus, who was an active man, and of a violent spirit, had nlso a considerable interest among the grandees. Beside, he hoped to gain his father through Atossa; for lie paid his court to her, and promised to make her the partner of his throne upon the death of Artaxerxes. Nay, it was said that he had already private familiarities with her. Artaxerxes, though he was ignorant of this cir- cumstance, resolved to cut off the hopes of Ochus at once; lest, following the daring steps of his un- cle Cyrus, he should involve the kingdom again in civil wars. He therefore declared Darius his successor, who was now twenty-five* years old, and permitted him to wear the point of his turbanf erect, as a mark of royalty. As it is customary in Persia for the heir to ask a favor of him that declared him such, which, if possible, is always granted, Darius asked for Aspasia, who had been the favorite mistress of Cyrus, and was now one of the king's concubines. She was a native of Phocea in Ionia, and her pa- rents, who were above the condition of slaves, had given her a good education. One evening she was introduced to Cyrus at supper with the other women. They approached him without scruple, and received his jokes and caresses with pleasure: but Aspasia stood by in silence; and when Cyrus called her, she refused to go. Perceiving that the chamberlains were about to compel her, she said, "Whoever lays hands upon me shall re- pent it. " Upon which the company looked upon her as an unpolished creature; but Cyrus was pleased, and said, with a smile, to the person who brought the women, " Do not you see that of all you have provided, this only has generous and virtuous sentiments!" From this moment he at- tached himseif to her, loved her most of all his con- cubines, and called her Aspasia the wise. When Cy- rus fell in battle, she was taken among the plunder of "his camp. Artaxerxes was much concerned at his son's request. For the barbarians are so extremely jealous of their women, that capital punishment is inflicted, not only on the man who speaks to, or touches one of the king's concubines, but on him who approaches or passes their chariots on the road. And though, in compliance with the dictates of his passion, he had made Atossa his wife contrary to law, he kept three hundred and sixty concubines, all women of the greatest beau- ty. However, when Darius demanded Aspasia, he declared her free, and said, " She might go with him if she pleased; but he would do no vio- lence to her inclinations." Accordingly Aspasia was sent for, and, contrary to the king's expecta- tion, made choice of Darius. He gave her up to him, indeed s because he was obliged to it by the law; but he soon took her away, and made her a priestess of Diana of Ecbatana, whom they called Anitis,\ that she might pass the remainder of her life in chastity. This he thought no severe re- venge upon his son, but a pleasant way of chastis- ing his presumption. But Darius highly resented the affront; whether it was that the charms of As- pasia had made a deep impression upon him, or whether he thought himself insulted and ridi- culed by this proceeding. Tiribazus seeing how much he was offended, en- deavored to exasperate him still more. This he did from a fellow feeling; for he had suffered an injury much of the same kind. The king, having several daughters, promised to give Aparna to Fharnabaztis, Rhodogune to Orontes, and Ames- tris to Tiribazus. He kept his word with the two first, but deceived Tiribazus; for, instead of giving Amestris to him, he married her himself; prom- ising at the same time that he should have his * In the printed text it is fifty. t Citaris. t Pausanias says, there was a temple of Diana Ancntit in Lydia. But Justin tells us, that Artaxerxes made At- pasia one of the priestesses of the sun. 646 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. youngest daughter Atossa. But he became en- amored of her too, and married her, as we have already mentioned. This treatment extremely in- censed Tiribazus, who had, indeed, nothing steady in his disposition; but was wild and irregular. One while successful, and upon a footing with the greatest men in the court, another while unac- ceptable to the king, and sinking into disgrace, he bore no change of fortune with propriety. If he was in favor, his vanity was insupport- able; if in disgrace, instead of being humble and quiet, he had recourse to violence and fer- ocity. His conversing with the young prince was, therefore, adding flame to fire. ' What avails it," said he, "to have the point of your turban advanc- ed, if you seek not* to advance your authority? Nothing can be more absurd than your thinking yourself secure of the succession, while your brother is privately forwarding his interest by means of the women, and your father is so very foolish and unsteady. He who could break one of the most sacred laws of the Persians, for the sake of an insignificant Grecian woman, is cer- tainly not to be depended upon in more important engagements. Tiie case is quite different between you and Ochus, as the event of the competition: if Ochus does not obtain the crown, none will hinder him from living happily in a private sta- tion; but you, who have been declared king, must either reign or die. " On this occasion was veri- fied that observation of Sophocles: Swift in its march Is evil counsel The road which leads us to what we desire is indeed smooth, and of- an easy descent; and the desires of most men are vicious, because they have never known or tried the enjoyments of virtue. The luster of such an imperial crown, and Darius's fear of his brother, furnished Tiribazus with other arguments; but the goddess of beauty contributed her share toward persuading him, by putting him in mind of the loss of Aspasia. He gave himself up, therefore, entirely to Tiri- bazus, and many others soon entered into the con- spiracy. But before it could be carried into exe- cution, an eunuch gave the king information of it, and of all the measures that were taken; for he had got perfect intelligence that they designed to enter his chamber in the night, and kill him in his bed. Artaxerxes thought it would be great impru- dence either to slight the information, and lay himself open to such danger, or to credit it with- out farther proof. The method he took was this: he ordered the eunuch to join Darius and his ad- herents, and assist at all their councils; and in the meantime broke a door through the wall behind his bed, which he concealed with the tapestry. When the time came, which the eunuch informed him of, he placed himself upon his bed, and re- mained there until he had a sight of the faces of the conspirators, and could perfectly distinguish each of them. But when he saw them draw their swords, and advance toward him, he pulled hack the tapestry, retreated into the inner room, and, after he had bolted the door, alarmed the palace. The assassins seeing themselves discovered, and their designs disappointed, immediately took to flight, and desired Tiribazus to do the same, be- cause he must certainly have been observed. While he lingered, the guards came and laid hold of him; but he killed many of them, and it was with difficulty that he was dispatched at last by a javelin thrown at a distance. Darius was taken, together with his children, and brought to answer for his crime before the judges which the king appointed. The king did not think proper to assist at the trial in person, but directed others to lay the charge against his son, and his notaries were to take down separate- ly the opinion of each judge. As they all gave it unanimously for death, the officers took Darius, and led him into an adjacent prison. But when the executioner came, with the instrument in his hand which is used in beheading the capital con- victs, he was seized with horror at the sight of Darius, and drew back toward the door, as having neither ability nor courage to lay violent hands upon his king. But the judges, who stood at the door, urging him to do his office, with menaces of instant punishment if he did not comply, he returned, and seizing Darius by the hair, threw him on the ground, and cut off his head. Some say the cause was tried in presence of the king, and that Darius, after he was convicted by indu- bitable proofs, fell on his face and begged for mer- cy, but Artaxerxes, rising in great anger, drew his scimitar, and pursued his stroke until he laid him dead at his feet. They add, that after this, lie re- turned to his palace, and having paid his devotions to the sun, said to those who assisted at the cere- mony, " My Persians, you may now return in triumph, and tell your fellow-subjects, that the great Oromazes* has taken vengeance on those who formed the most impious and execrable designs against their sovereign." Such was the end of the conspiracy. Ochus now entertained very agreeable hopes, and was encouraged beside by Atossa. But ho had still some fear of his remaining legitimate bro- ther, Ariaspes, and of his natural brother Ar.sames. Not that Ochus had so much to apprehend from Ariaspes, merely because he was older, but the Persians were desirous of having him succeed to the throne on account of his mildness, his sinceri- ty, and his humane disposition. As for Arsames, he had the character of a wise prince, and was the particular favorite of his father. This was no secret to Ochus. However, he planned the de- struction of both these brothers of his; and being of an artful, as well as sanguinary turn, he em- ployed his cruelty against Arsames, and his art against Ariaspes. To the latter he privately sent some of the king's eunuchs and friends with frequent accounts of severe and menacing expressions of his father's, as if he had resolved to put him to a cruel and ignominious death. As these persons came daily to tell him in confidence, that some of these threats were upon the point of being put in execution, and the others would not be long delayed, he was so terrified, and fell into such a melancholy and desponding way, that he prepared a poisonous draught, and drank it, to deliver himself from the burden of life. The king being informed of the manner of his death, sincerely lamented him, and had some suspicion of the cause, but could not exam- ine into it thoroughly on account of his great age. However, Arsames now became dearer to him than ever, and it was easy to see that the king placed an entire confidence in him, and commu- nicated to him his most secret thoughts. Ochus, therefore, would not defer his enterprise longer, but employed Harpates, the son of Tiribazus, to kill Arsames. Artaxerxes, whom time had *The Persians worshiped Oromazes as the author of Good* and Mrimanius as the author of Evil. ARATUS. 647 brought tc the very verge of life, when he had | He had the character of a prince who governed this additional stroke in the fate of Arsames, could not make much more struggle; his sorrow and regret soon brought him to the grave. He lived ninety-four years, and reigned sixty-two.* with lenity: and loved his people. But perhaps the behavior of his successor might contribute not a little to his reputation; for Ochus was the most cruel and sanguinary of princes. ARATUS. THE philosopher, Chrysippus, my dear Polycra- tes, serins to have thought the ancient proverb not quite justifiable, and therefore he delivered it, not as it really is, but what he thought it should be Who but a happy son will praise his sire? Dionysidorus, the Trcezenian, however, corrects him, and gives it right, Who but unhappy sons will praise their sires? He says, the proverb was made to silence those who, having no merit of their own, dress them- selves up in the virtues of their ancestors, and are lavish in their praises. And those in whom the vir- tues of their sires shine in congenial beauty, to make use of Pindar's expression; who, like you, form their conduct after the brightest patterns in their families, may think it a great happiness to re- member the most excellent of their ancestors, and often to hear or speak of them: for they assume not the honor of other men's virtues for want of merit in their own, but uniting their great actions to those of their progenitors, they praise them as the authors of their descent, and the models of their lives. For which reason, when I have writ- ten the life of Aratus, your countryman, and one of your ancestors, I shall send it to you, who re- flect no dishonor upon him, either in point of reputation or power. Not that I doubt your hav- ing informed yourself of his actions from the first, with all possible care and exactness; but I do it, that your sons, Polycrates and Pythocles, may form themselves upon the great exemplars in their own family, sometimes hearing and sometimes reading what it becomes them well to imitate; for it is the self-admirer, not the admirer of virtue, that thinks himself superior to others. After the harmony of the pure Doric,f I mean the aristocracy, was broken in Sicyon, and sedi- tions took place through the ambition of the dem- agogues, the city continued a long time in a dis- tempered state. It only changed one tyrant for another, until Cleon was slain, and the admin- istration committed to Timoclidas and Clinias, persons of the greatest reputation and authority among the citizens. The commonwealth seemed to be in some degree re-established, when Timo- clidas died. Abantidas, the son of Paseas, taking that .opportunity to set himself up tyrant, killed Clinias, and either banished or put to death his friends and relations. He sought also for his son Aratus, who was only seven years old, with a de- sign to dispatch him. But, in the confusion that was in his house, when his father was slain, the boy escaped among those that fled, and wandered about the city, in fear and destitute of help, until he happened to enter, unobserved, the house of a * Diodorus Siculus says, that he reigned only forty-three years. t Thero was a gravity, but, at the same time, great per- faction in the Dorian music. woman named Soso, who was sister to Abantidas, and had been married to Prophantus, the brother of Clinias. As she was a person of generous sen- timents, and persuaded beside that it was by the direction of some deity that the child had taken refuge with he.r, she concealed him in one of her apartments until night, and then sent him pri- vately to Argos. Aratus, having thus escaped so imminent a danger, immediately conceived a violent and im- placable hatred for tyrants, which increased as he grew up. He was educated by the friends of his family, at Argos, in a liberal manner, and as he was vigorous and robust, he took to gymnastic exercises, and succeeded so well as to gain the prize in the five several sorts.* Indeed, in his statues there is an athletic look; and amidst the strong sense and majesty expressed in his counte- nance, we may discover something inconsistent with the voracity and mattock of the wrestlers.f Hence, perhaps, it was, that he cultivated his powers of eloquence less than became a statesman. He might, indeed, be a better speaker than some suppose; and there are those who judge, from his commentaries, that he certainly was so, though they were hastily written, and attempted nothing beyond common language. Sometime after the escape of Aratus, Dinias and Aristotle, the logician, formed a design against Abantidas, and they easily found an opportunity to kill him, when he attended, and sometimes joined in their disputations in the public halls, which they had insensibly drawn him into for that very purpose. Paseas, the father of Abanti- das, then seized the supreme power, but he was assassinated by Nicocles, who took his place, and was the next tyrant. We are told that there was a perfect likeness between this Nicocles and Peri- ander, the son of Cypselus; as Orontes, the Per- sian, resembled Alcmuion, the son of Amphiarans, and a Lacedsemonian youth, the great Hector. Myrtilas informs us that the young man was crowded to death by the multitudes who came to see him, when that resemblance was known. Nicocles reigned four months, during which time he did a thousand injuries to the people, and was near losing the city to the ^Etolians, who formed a scheme to surprise it. Aratus was by this time approaching to manhood, and great at- tention was paid him on account of his high birth, and his spirit, in which there was nothing little or unenterprising, and yet it was under the correction of a gravity and solidity of judgment much beyond his years. The exiles, therefore, considered him as their principal resource; and Nicocles was not regardless of his motions, but by his private agents observed the measures he * The five exercises of the Pentathlum (as we have al- ready observed) were running, leaping, throwing the dart, boxing, and wrestling. t They used to break up the ground with th mattock, by way of exercise, to improve their strength. 648 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. was taking. Not that he expected he would em- bark in so bold and dangerous an enterprise as he did, but he suspected las applications to the princes, who were the friends of his father. In- deed, Aratus begun in that channel; but when he found that Antigonus, notwithstanding his prom- ises, put him off from time to time, and that his hopes from Egypt ami Ptolemy were too remote, he resolved to destroy the tyrant without any for- eign assistance. The first persons to whom he communicated his intentions were Aristomachus and Ecdelus. Aristomachus was an exile from Sicyon, and Ec- delus, an Arcadian, banished from Megalopolis. The latter was a philosopher, who in speculation never lost sight of practice, for he had studied at Athens, under Arcesilaus, the academician.* As these readily accepted his proposal, he applied to the other exiles; a few of whom joined him, be- cause they were ashamed to give up so promising a hope; but the greatest part believed it was only Aratus's inexperiencef that made him think of so bold an attempt, and endeavored to prevent his proceeding. While he was considering how to seize some post in the territories of Sicyon, from whence he might prosecute hostilities against the tyrant, a man of Sicyon arrived at Argos, who had escaped eut of prison. He was brother to Xeno- cles, one of the exiles; and being introduced by him to Aratus, he informed him, that the part of the wall which he had got over, was almost level with the ground on the inside, as it joined upon a high rocky part of the city, and that on the out- side it was not so high but that it might be scaled. Upon this intelligence, Aratus sent two of his ser- vants, Sceuthas and Technon, along with Xeno- cles, to reconnoiter the wall; for he was resolved, if he could do it secretly, to hazard all upon one great effort, rather than lengthen out the war, and publicly engage with a tyrant, when he had no resources but those of a private man. Xenocles and his companions, after they had taken the hight of the wall, reported, at their re- turn, that it was neither impracticable nor difficult, but that it was dangerous to attempt it on account of some dogs kept by a gardener, which were little, indeed, but at the same time extremely fierce and furious. Aratus, however, immediately set about the work. It was easy to provide arms without suspicion; for almost everybody went armed, by reason of the frequent robberies, and the incur- sions of one people into the territories of another. And as to the scaling ladders, Euphranor, who was one of the exiles, and a carpenter by trade, made them publicly; his business screening him from suspicion. Each of his friends in Argos, who had no great number of men that he could command, furnished him with ten; he armed thirty of his own servants, and hired some few soldiers of Xenophilus, who was chief captain of a band cf robbers. To the latter it was given out that the design of their march to Sicyon, was to carry off the king's stud; and several of them were sent before by different ways to the tower of Polyg- notus, with orders to wait for him there. Caphe- sias was likewise sent with four others in a trav- eling-dress. These were to go in the evening to the gardener's, and pretending to be travelers, get a lodging there; after which, they were to confine both him and his dogs: for that part of the wall was not accessible any other way. The ladders * Arnesilaus was the disciple of Crantor, and had estab- lished the middle academy. t He was not yet twenty years old. being made to take in pieces, were packed up in corn chests, and sent before in wagons prepared for that purpose. In the meantime, some of the tyrant's spies ar- rived at Argos, and it was reported that they were skulking about to watch the motions of Aratus. Next morning, therefore, Aratus appeared early with his friends in the market-place, and talked with them for some time. He then went to the gymnasium, and after he had anointed himself, took with him some young men from the wrest- ling ring, who used to be of his parties of pleasure, and returned home. In a little time his servants were seen in the market-place, some carrying chaplets of flowers, some buying flambeaux, and some in discourse with the women who used to sing and play at entertainments. Those maneu- vers deceived the spies. They laughed and said to each other, "Certainly nothing can be more dastardly than a tyrant, since Nicocles, who is master of so strong a city, and armed with so much power, lives in fear of a young man who wastes the pittance he has to subsist on in exile, in drinking and reveling even in the day-time." After these false reasonings they retired. Aratus, immediately after he had made his meal, set out for the tower of Polygnotus, and when he had joined the soldiers there, proceeded to Nemea, where he disclosed his real intentions to his whole company. Having exhorted them to behave like brave men, and promised them great rewards, he gave "propitious Apollo'' for the word, and then led them forward toward Sicyon, governing his march according to the motion of the moon, sometimes quickening, and sometimes slackening his pace, so as to have the benefit of her light by the way, and to come to the garden by the wall just after she was set. There Caphesias met him, and informed him that the dogs were let out be- fore he arrived, but that he had secured the gar- dener. Most of the company were greatly dis- pirited at this account, and desired Aratus to quit his enterprise; but he encouraged them by prom- ising to desist, if the dogs should prove very troublesome. Then he ordered those who carried the ladders to march before, under the conduct of Ecdelus and Mnasitheus, and himself followed softly. The dogs now began to run about and bark violently at Ecdelus and his men; neverthe- less they approached the wall, and planted their ladders safe. But as the foremost of them were mounting, the officer who was to be relieved by the morning guard passed by that way at the sound of the bell, with many torches and much noise. Upon this, the men laid themselves close to their ladders, and escaped the notice of this watch without much difficulty, but when the other which was to relieve it, carne up, they were in the utmost danger. However, that too passed by without observing them; after which, Mnasitheus and Ecdelus mounted the wall first, and having secured the way both to the right and left, they sent Technon to Aratus to desire him to advance as fast as possible. It was no great distance from the garden to the wall, and to a tower in which was placed a great hunting dog to alarm the guard. But whether he was naturally drowsy, or had wearied himself the day before, he did not perceive their entrance. But the gardener's dogs awakening him by bark- ing below, he began to growl; and when Aratus's men passed by the tower, he barked out, so that the whole place resounded with the noise. Then the sentinel, who kept watch opposite to the tower, called aloud to the huntsman, and asked him " Whom the dog barked at so angrily, or ARATUS. 649 Whether anything new had happened ?" The huntsman answered from the tower, "That there was nothing extraordinary, and that the dog was only disturbed at the torches of the guards and the noise of the bell." This encouraged Aratus's soldiers more tliun anything; for they imagined that the huntsman concealed the truth because he had a secret understanding with their leader, and that there were many others in the town who would promote tiie design. But when the rest of their companion* came to scale the wall, the danger increased. It appeared to be a long affair, because the ladders shook and swung extremely if they did not mount them softly ami one by one; and the time pressed, for the cocks began to crow. The country people, too, who kept the market, were expected to arrive every moment. Aratus, therefore, hastened up himself when only forty of his company were upon the wall; and when a few more had joined him from below, he put himself at the head of his men, and inarched im- mediately to the tyrant's palace, where the main guard was kept, and where the mercenaries passed the night under arms. Coming suddenly upon them, lie took them prisoners without killing one man; and then sent to his friends in the town to invite them to come and join him. They ran to him from all quarters; and day now appearing, the theater was rilled with a crowd of people who stood iu suspense; for they had only heard a ru- mor, and hud no certainty of what was doing, until a herald came and proclaimed it in these words, " Aratus, the son of Glinias, calls the citi- zens to liberty." Then, persuaded that the day they had long ex- pected was come, they rushed in multitudes to the palace of the tyrant, and set fire to it. The flame was so strong that it was seen as far as Corinth, and the Corinthians, wondering what might be the cause, were upon the point of going to their assistance. Nicocles escaped out of the city by some subterranean conduits; and the sol- diers having helped thd Sicyonians to extinguish the fire, plundered his palace. Nor did Aratus hinder them from taking Una booty; but the rest of the wealth which the several tyrants had amassed, he bestowed upon the citizens. There was not so much as one man killed or wounded in this action, either of Aratus's party or the enemy; fortune so conducting the enter- prise as not to sully it with the blood of one citizen. Aratus recalled eighty persons who had been banished by Nicocles, and of those that had been expelled by the former tyrants, not less than five hundred. The latter had long been forced to wander from place to place, some of them full fifty years; consequently, most of them returned in a destitute condition. They were now, indeed, restored to their ancient possessions; but their going into houses and lands which had found new masters, laid Aratus under great difficulties. Without, he saw Antigonus envying the liberty which the city had recovered, and laying schemes to enslave it again; and within, he found nothing but faction and disorder. He, therefore, judged it best, in this critical situation, to join it to the Achcean league. As the people of Sicyou were Dorians, they had no objection to being called a part of the Achean community, or to their form of government.* It must be acknowledged, in- * The Dutch republic imvh resembles it. The Aclueans, indeed, at first, had two PraHors, whose office it was both to preside in the diet, and to command in the army: but it was soon thought, advisable to reduce them to one. There is this difference, too, between the Dutch Stadtholder and the Achaean Prmtor, that the latter did not continue two deed, that the Achaeans at that time were no very great or powerful people. Their towns were gen- erally small, their lands neither extensive nor fertile; and they had no harbors on their coasts, the sea for the most part entering the land in rocky and impracticable creeks. Yet none gave a better proof than this people, that the power of Greece is invincible while good order and har- mony prevail among her members, and she has an able general to lead her armies. In fact, these very Achaeans, though but inconsiderable, in com- parison of the Greeks in their flourishing times, or, to speak more properly, not equaling in their whole community the strength of one respectable city in the period we are upon, yet by good coun- sels and unanimity, and by hearkening to any man of superior virtue, instead of envying his merit, not only kept themselves free amidst so many powerful states and tyrants, but saved great part of Greece, or rescued it from chains. As to his character, Aratus had something very popular in his behavior; he had a native greatness of mind, and was more attentive to the public in- terest than to his own. He was an implacable enemy to tyrants; but with respect to others, he made the good of his country the sole rule of his friendship or opposition. So that he seems rather to have been a mild and moderate enemy than a zealous friend; his regards or aversions to partic- ular men varying as the occasions of the com- monwealth dictated. In short, nations and great communities with one voice re-echoed the de- claration of the assemblies and theaters, that Ara- tus loved none but good men. With regard to open wars and pitched battles, he was.indeed dif- fident and timorous; but in gaining a point by stratagem, in surprising cities and tyrants, there could not be an abler man. To this cause we must assign it, that, after he had exerted great courage and succeeded in en- terprises that were looked upon as desperate, through too much fear and caution he gave up others that were more practicable, and not of less importance. For, as among animals, there are some that can see very clearly in the night, and yet are next to blind in the day-time, the dry ness of the eye, and the subtilty of its humors, not suffering them to bear the light; so there is in man a kind of courage and understanding, which is easily disconcerted in open dangers and en- counters, and yet resumes a happy boldness in secret enterprises. The reason of this inequality in men of parts, otherwise excellent, is their wanting the advantages of philosophy. Virtue is in them the product of nature, unassisted by sci- ence, like the fruits of the forest, which come years successively in his employment. But in other re- spects there is a striking similarity between the states of Holland and those of the Achaean league; and if the Achseans could have become a maritime power like the Dutch, their power would probably have been much more extensive and lasting than it was. All the cities subject to the Achrean league were gov- erned by the great council, or general assembly of the whole nation, which was assembled twice a year, in the spring and autumn. To this assembly, or diet, each of the con- federate cities had a right to send a number of deputies, who were elected in their respective cities by a plurality of" voices. In these meetings they enacted laws, disposed of the v.icant employments, declared war, made pesce, con- cluded alliances, and, in short, provided for all the principal occasions of the commonwealth. Beside the PrtKtor, they had ten great officers called Dcmiurgi, chosen by the general assembly out of the most eminent and experienced perso"; among the states. It was their office to assist the praetor with their advice. He was to propose nothing to the general assembly but what had been previously approved by their body, and in his ab- sence the whole management of civil affairs devolved upon them. G60 PLUTARCH'S LIVES without the least cu tivation.* Of this there are ] many examples to be found. After Aratus had engaged himself and his city in the Aduean league, he served in the cavalry, and the generals highly esteemed him "for his ready obedience: for though he had contributed BO much to the common cause by his name and by the forces of Sicyon, yet the Achaean com- mander, whether of Uima or Tritta, or some more inconsiderable town, found him always as tracta- ble as the meanest soldier. When the king of Egypt made him a present of twenty-five talents, he received it, indeed, but laid out the whole upon his fellow-citizens; re- lieving the necessitous with part oi' it, and ran- soming such as were prisoners with the rest. But the exiles whom Aratus had recalled would not be sati>fied with anything less than the restitu- tion of their estates, and gave the present pos- sessors so much trouble that, the city was in dan- ger of being ruined by sedition. In this extremity he saw no resource except in the generosi y of Ptolemy, and therefore determined to take a voy- age to Egvnt, and apply to him for as much money as would reconcile all parties. Accord- ingly he set sail for Methone, above the promon- tory, of Malta, *iu hopes of taking the shortest passage. But a contrary wind sprang up, and the seas ran so high that the pilot, unable to bear up against them, changed his course, and with much difficulty got into Adria,fa town which was in the enemy's hands; for Antigonus had a garrison there. To avoid this imminent danger, he landed, and, with only one friend, named Timanthes, making his way as far as possible from the sea, sought for shelter in a psace well covered with wood, in which he anu his companion spent a very disa- greeable night. Soon after he had left the ship, the governor of the fort came and inquired for him; but he was deceived by Aratus's servants, who were instructed to say he had made off in another vessel. to Eubooa. However, he detained the ship and servant as a lawful prize. Aratus spent some days in this distressful situation, where one while he looked out to reconnoiter the coast, and another while he kept himself concealed; but at last, by good fortune, a Roman ship happened to put in near the place of his retreat. The ship was bound for Syria, and Aratus prevailed upon the master to land him in Caria. But he had equal dangers to combat at sea in this as in his former passages. And when he was in Caria, he had a voyage to take to Egypt, which he found a very long one. Upon his arrival, however, he was immediately admitted to audience by the king, who had long been inclined to serve him on account of the paintings which he used to com- pliment him with from Greece: for Aratus, who had a taste fur these things, was always collecting for him the pieces of the best masters, particularly those of Pamphilus and Melantlms:$ for Sicyon was famed for the cultivation of the arts, purticu- This character of Aratns is perfectly agreeable to what Peljbins lias given us in his fourth book. Two great mas- ters will draw with equal excellence, though their manner must be different. tPalmerius conjectures that we should read Jlndria, which he supposes to be a town in the island of Andrng. He confirms it with this argument, that Aratus is said to have passed from hence to Euba-a, which is opposite to that Maud. t Two of the rr.o-t c'ebrated painters of all antiquity. Pamphilus had been brougat up under Eupompus, and was j the master of Apelles and Melanthus. The capital pieces of Pamphilus were, Brotherhood, a Battle, the Victory \ -)f the Athenians, and Ulysses in his rrssel taking leave of \ Calypso. Plmy tells us, that the whole wealth of a city j .ould scarce purchase one of the pieces of Melanthus. larly the art of painting; and it was believed that there only the ancient elegance was preserved without the least corruption. Hence it was, that the great Apelles, at a time when he was much admired, went to Sicyon, and gave the painters a talent, not so much for any improvement he ex- pected, as for the reputation of having been of their school. In consequence of which, Aratus, when he restored Sicyon to liberty, and destroyed the portraits of the tyrants, hesitated a long time on coming to that of Aristratus; for it was the united work of the disciples of Melanthus, who had represented him standing in a chariot of vic- tory, and the pencil of Apelles had contributed to the performance, as we are informed by Polemo the geographer. The piece was so admirable that Aratus could not avoid feeling the art that was displayed in it; but his hatred of tyrants soon overruled that feel- ing, and he ordered it to be defaced. Nealces, the painter,* who was honored with his friendship, is said to have implored him with tears to spare that piece: and when he found him inflexible, said: " Aratus, continue your war with tyrants, but not with everything that belongs to them. Spare at least the chariot and the victory, and I shall soon make Aristratus vanish." Aratus gave his consent, and Nealces defaced the figure of Aris- tratus, but did not venture to put anything in its place except a palm-treee. We are told, how- ever, that there was still a dim appearance of the feet of Aristratus at the bottom of the chariot. This taste for painting had already recommend- ed Aratus to Ptolemy, and his conversation gain- ed so much farther upon him that he made him a present of a hundred and fifty talents for the city; forty of which he sent with him on his return to Peloponnesus, and he remitted the rest in the sev- eral portions and at the times that he had fixed It was a glorious thing to apply so much money to the use of his fellow-citizens, at a time when it was common to see generals and dema- gogues, for much smallersurns which they receiv- ed of the kings, to oppress, enslave, and betray to them the cities where they were born. But it was still more glorious, by this money to recon- cile the poor to the rich, to secure the common- wealth, and establish harmony among all ranks of people. His moderation in the exercise of the great power he was vested with, was truly admirable. For, being appointed sole arbitrator of the claims of the exiles, he refused to act alone, and joined fifteen of the citizens in the commission; with whose assistance, after much labor and at- tention, he established peace and friendship among the people. Beside the honors which the whole community conferred on him for these services, the exiles in particular erected his sta-tua in brass, and put upon it this inscription: Far as the pillars which Alcides rear'd, Thy counsels and thy deeds in arms for Greece The tongue of Fame has told. But we, Aratus, We, wanderers, whom tliou hast restored to Sicyon, Will sing thy justice; place thy pleasing form, As a benignant power with gods that save. For thou hast given that dear equality, And all the laws which favoring Heaven might give Aratus, after such important services, was placed above envy among his people. But king ARATUS. 651 Antigonus, uneasy at the progress he made, was determined either to gain him, or to make him obnoxious to Ptolemy. He therefore gave him extraordinary marks of his regard, though he wanted no such advances. Among others this was one. On occasion of a sacrifice which he of- fered at Corinth, he sent portions of it to Aratus at Sicyon: and at the feast which ensued, he said in full assembly, " I at first looked upon this young Sioyonian only as a man of a liberal and patriotic spirit, but now I find that he is also a good judge of the characters and affairs of princes. At first he overlooked us for the sake of foreign hopes, and the admiration lie had conceived from stories of the wealth, the elephants, fleets, and the splendid court of Egypt; but since he has been upon the spot, and seen that all this pomp is merely a theatrical thing, he is come over entire- ly to us. I have received him to my bosom, and am determined to employ him in all my affairs. I desire, therefore, you will all consider him as a friend." The envious and malevolent took occa- sion from this speech to lay heavy charges against Aratus in their letters to Ptolemy, insomuch that the king sent one of his agents to tax him with his infidelity. Thus, like passionate lovers, the candidates for the first favors of kings dispute them with the utmost envy and malignity. After Aratus was first chosen general of the Achaean league, he ravaged Locris, which lies on the other side of the gulf of Corinth; and com- mitted the same spoil in the territories of Calydon. It was his intention to assist the Boeotians with ten thousand men, but he came too late; they were already defeated by the ^Etolians in an action near Chasronea,* in which Aboaocritus their general, and a thousand of their men, were slain. The year following,! Aratus, being elected general again, undertook tl. .t celebrated enter- prise of recovering the citadel of Corinth; in which he consulted not only the benefit of Sicyon and Achaia, but of Greece in general; for such would be the expulsion of the Macedonian garri- son, which was nothing better than a tyrant's yoke. As Chares, the Athenian general, upon a battle which he won of the king of Persia's lieu- tenants, wrote to the people, that he had gained a victory which was sister to that of Marathon; so we may justly call this exploit of Aratus, sister to that of Pelopidas the Theban, and Thrasybulus the Athenian, when they killed the tyrants. There is, indeed, this difference, that Aratus's en- terprise was not against Greeks, but against a for- eign powi j r, which is a difference much to his honor. For the Isthmus of Corinth, which sep- arates the two seas, joins our continent to that of Peloponnesus; and when there is a good garrison in the citadel of Corinth, which stands on a high hill in the middle, at an equal distance from the two continents, it cuts off the communication with those within the Isthmus, so that there can be no passage for troops, nor any kind of com- merce, either by sea or land. In short, he that is possessed of it, is master of all Greece. The younger Philip of Macedon, therefore, was not jesting, but spoke a serious truth, when he call- ed the city of Corinth the fetters of Greece. Hence the place was always much contended for, partic- ularly by kings and prince's. * We must take care to distinguish this battle of Ohse- lonea from that great action in which Philip of Macedon beat the Thebans and Athenians, and which happened six- ty-six years be fore Aratus was born. tPolybius, svho wrote from Aratus's Commentaries, tells Os. there were eight years between Aratus's first praetor- hip and his second, in which he took Acrocorinth. Antigonus's passion for it was not less than ;hat of love in its greatest madness; and it was ;he chief object of his cares to find a method of ;aking it by surprise when the hopes of succeed- ng by open force failed. When Alexander, who was master of the citadel, died of poison, that is said to have been given him through Antigonus's means, his wife Nicsea, into whose hands it then fell, guarded it with great care. But Antigonus, [loping to gain it by means of his son Demetrius, sent him to make her an offer of his hand. It was a flattering prospect to a woman somewhut ad- vanced in years, to have such a young prince for her husband. Accordingly Antigonus caught her by this bait. However, she did not give up the citadel, but guarded it with the same atten- tion as before. Antigonus, pretending to take no notice, celebrated the marriage with sacrifices and shows, and spent whole days in feasting the peo- ple, as if his m^nd had been entirely taken up with mirth and pleasure. One day, when Amoe- beus was to sing in the theater, he conducted Ni- ca3a in person on her way to the entertainment in a litter set out with royal ornaments. She was elated with the honor, and had not the least thought of what was to ensue. But when they came to the point which bore toward the citadel, he ordered the men that bore the litter to proceed to the theater; and bidding farewell to Amoebeus and the wedding, he walked up to the fort, much faster than could have been expected from a man of his years. Finding the gate barred, he knock- ed with his staff, and commanded the guard to open it. Surprised at the sight of him, they com- plied, and thus he became master of the place. He was not able to contain his joy on that occa- sion: he drank and reveled in the open streets and in the market-place, attended with female musicians, and crowned with flowers. When we see a man of his age, who had experienced such changes of fortune, carouse and indulge hia transports, embracing and saluting every one he meets, we must acknowledge that unexpected joy raises greater tumults in an unbalanced mind, and oversets it sooner than either fear or sorrow. Antigonus having in this manner made himself master of the citadel, garrisoned it with men in whom he placed the greatest confidence, and made the philosopher Persaeus governor. While Alexander was living, Aratus fiad cast his eye upon it, as an excellent acquisition for his coun- try; but the Achaeans admitting Alexander into the league, he did not prosecute his design. Af- terward, however, a new occasion presented itself. There were in Corinth four brothers, natives of Syria, one of which, named Diocles, served as a soldier in the garrison. The other three having stolen some of the king's money, retired to Sic- yon, where they applied to one Mgis, a banker, whom Aratus used to employ. Part of this gold they immediately disposed of to him, and Erginus, one of the three, at several visits, privately chang- ed the rest. Thus an acquaintance was formed between him and JEgias, who one day drew him inio discourse about the garrison. Erginus told him, that as he often went up to visit his brother, he had observed, on the steepest side, a small winding path cut in the rock, and leading to a part of the wall much lower than the rest. Upon this ^Egias said, with an air of raillery, " Why will you, my good friend, purloin the king's treasures for so inconsiderable a sum, when you might raise yourselves to opulence by one hour's service? Do not you know that if you are taken, you will as certainly be put to death for this tri- 052 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. fling theft, as if you hail betrayed the citadel?" Erginus laughed at the hint, and promised to sound his brother Diocles upon the subject; for he could not, he said, place much confidence in the other two. A few days after this he returned, and had an interview with Aratus, at which it was agreed that he should conduct him to a part of the wall that was not above fifteen feet high, and that both he and his brother Diocles should assist him in the rest of the enterprise. Aratus, on his part, promised to give them sixty talents, if he suc- ceeded; and in case they failed, and yet re- turned all safe to Sicyon, he engaged that each of them should have a house and one talent. As it was necessary that the sixty talents should be deposited in the hands of ^Egias, for the satisfac- tion of Erginus, and Aratus neither had such a sum, nor chose to borrow it, because that might create some suspicion of his indentions, he took most of his plate and his wife's jewels, and pledg- ed them with JEgls for the money. Such was the greatness of his soul, such his passion for high achievements, that knowing that Phocion and Epaminondas were accounted the justestand most excellent of all the Greeks, for refusing great presents, and not sacrificing virtue to mon- ey, he ascended a step higher. He privately gave money, he embarked his estate in an enterprise where he alone was to expose himself for the many who were not even apprised of his inten- tions in their favor. Who then can sufficiently admire his magnanimity? Who is there, even in our days, that is not fired with an ambition to imitate the man who purchased so much danger at so great an expense, who pledged the most val- uable of his goods for the sake of being introduc- ed by night among enemies, where he was to fight for his life, without any other equiva- lent than the hope of performing a great action. This undertaking, which was dangerous enough in itself, became more so by a mistake which they committed in the beginning. Technon, one of Aratus's servants, of wbom we have already spoken, was sent before to Diocles, that they might reconnoiter the wall together. He had never seen Diocles, but he thought he should easily know him by the marks which Er- ginus had given, which were curled hair, a swarthy complexion, and want of beard. He went, therefore, to the place appointed, and sat down before the city at a point called Ornis, to wait for Erginus and his brother Diocles. In the meantime Dionysius, their eldest brother, who knew nothing of the affair, happened to come up. He greatly resembled Diocles ; and Tech- non, struck with his appearance, which answered the description, asked him if he had any connec- tion with Erginus. He said he was his brother: upon which, Technon, thoroughly persuaded that he was speaking to Diocles, without asking his name, or waiting for any '.oken, gave him his hand, mentioned to him the circumstances of the appointment with Erginus, and asked him many questions about it. Dionysius availed himself very artfully of the mistake, agreed to every point, and returning toward the city, held him in discourse without giving him the least cause of suspicion. They were now near the town, and he was on the point of seizing Technou, when by good fortune Erginus rnet them, and perceiv- ing how much his friend was imposed upon, and the great danger he was in, beckoned to him to make his escape. Accordingly they both fled, and got safe to Aratus. However, Aratus did not give up his hopes, but immediately sent Erginus to Dionysius, to offer him money, and entreat him to be silent, in which he succeeded so well, that he brought Dionysius along with him to Ara- tus. When they had him in their hands, they did not think it safe to part with him; they bound and set a guard on him in a small apart- ment, and then prepared for their principal design. When everything was ready, Aratus ordered his troops to pass the night under arms; and tak- ing with him four hundred picked men, few of whom knew the business they were going about, he led them to the gates of the city near the tem- ple of Juno. It was then about the middle of summer, the moon at the full, and the night with- out the least cloud. As their arms glittered with the reflection of the moon, they were afraid that circumstance would discover them to the watch The foremost of them were now near the walls, when clouds arose from the sea, and covered the city and its environs. The men sat down and took oft' their shoes, that they might make the less noise, and mount the ladders without danger of slipping. But Erginus took with him seven young men in the habit of travelers, and getting unobserved to the gate, killed the keeper and the guard that were with him. At the same time, the ladders were applied to the walls, and Aratus, with a hundred men, got over with the utmost ex- pedition. The rest he commanded to follow in the best manner they could, and having immediate- ly drawn up his ladders, he marched at the head of his party through the town toward the citadel, con- fident of success, because he was not discovered. As they advanced, they met four of the watch, with a light, which gave Aratus a full and timely view of them, while he and his company could not be seen by them, because the moon was still over-clouded. He therefore retired under some ruined walls, and lay in ambush for them. Three out of the four were killed; but the other, after he had received a cut upon his head, ran off, cry- ing, " That the enemy was in the city." A lit- tle after the trumpets sounded, and the whole town was in motion on the alarm. The streets were filled with people running up and down, and so many lights were brought out, both in the lower town and the citadel, that the whole was illuminated, and a confused noise was heard from every quarter. Aratus went on, notwithstand- ing, and attempted the way up the rock. He proceeded in a slow and difficult manner at first, because he had lost the path, which lay deep be- beath the craggy parts of the rock, and led to the wall by a great variety of windings and turning*). But at that moment, the moon, as it were by mir- acle, is said to have dispersed the clouds, and thrown a light on the most obscure part of the path, which continued until he reached the wall at the place he wanted. Then the clouds gather- ed afresh, and she hid her face again. In the meantime, the three hundred men whom Aratus had left by the temple of Juno, had en- tered the city, which they found all in alarm and full of lights. As they could not find the way Aratus had taken, nor trace him in the least, they screened themselves under the shady side of a high rock, and waited there in great perplexity and distress. By this time Aratus was engaged with the enemy on the ramparts of the citadel, and they could distinguish the cries of combat- ants; but as the noise was echoed by the neigh- boring mountains, it was uncertain from whence it first came. While they were in doubt what way to turn, Archelaus, who commanded the king's forces, took a considerable corps, and be- gan to ascend the hill with loud shouts, and trum- AR ATUS. 653 pets sounding, in order to attack Aratus's rear. He passed the party of the three hundred without perceiving them; hut he was no sooner gone by, than they rose as from an ambuscade, fell upon him, and killing the first they attacked, so terrified the rest, and even Archelaus himself, that they turn- ed their backs, and were pursued until they en- tirely dispersed. When the party was thus victorious, Erginus came to them from their friends above, to inform them that Aratus was engaged with the enemy, who defended themselves with great vigor, that the wall itself was disputed, and that their general wanted immediate assistance. They bade him lead them to the place that moment; and as they ascended, they discovered themselves by their shouts. Thus their friends were encouraged, and the reflection of .the full moon upon their arms, made their numbers appear greater to their enemies, on account of the length of the path. In the echoes of the night, too, the shouts seemed to come from a much larger party. At last they joined Aratus, and with a united effort beat off the enemy, and took post upon the wall. At break of day, the citadel was their own, and the first rays of the sun did honor to their victory. At the same time the rest of Aratus's forces ar- rivod from Sicyon: the Corinthians readily open- ed their gates to them, and assisted in taking the king's soldiers prisoners. When he thought his victory complete, he went down from the citadel to the theater; an innumer- able multitude crowding to see him, and to hear the speech that he would make to the Corinthians. After he had disposed the Achaeans on each side of the avenues to the theater, he came from be- hind the scenes, and made his appearance in his armor. But he was so much changed by labor and watching, that the joy and elevation which his success might have inspired, were weighed down by the extreme fatigue of his spirits. On his appearance, the people immediately began to express their high sense of his services: upon which he took his spear in his right hand, and lean- ing his body on one knee a little against it, re- mained a long time in that posture silent, to re- ceive their plaudits and acclamations, their praises of his virtue, and compliments on his good for- ;uue. After their first transports were over, and he perceived that he could be heard, he summoned the strength he had left, and made a speech in the name of the Achoeans suitable to the great event, persuaded the Corinthians to join the league, and delivered to them the keys of their city, which they had not been masters of since the times of Philip. As to the generals of Antigonus, he set Ar- chelaus, who was his prisoner, free; but he put Theophraslus to death, because he refused to leave Corinth. Persaeus, on the taking of the citadel, made his escape to Cenchreae. Some time after, when he was amusing himself with disputations in philosophy, and some person ad- vanced this position, " None but the wise man is fit to be a general:" " It is true," said he, " and the gods know it, that this maxim of Zeno's once pleased me more than all the rest; but I have changed my opinion, since I was better taught by the young Sicyonian." This circumstance con- cerning Persteus, we have from many historians. Aratus immediately seized, the Heraum, or J temple of Juno, and the harbor of Lechceum, in j which he took twenty-five of the king's ships. j He took also five hundred horses, and four hun- dred Syrians, whom he sold. The Achaeans put a garrison of four hundred men in the cita- del of Corinth, which was strengthened with fifty dogs, and as many men to keep them. The Romans were great admirers of Philopoe- men, and called him the last of the Greeks; not allowing that there was any great man among that people after him. But, in my opinion, this exploit of Aratus is the last which the. Greeks have to boast of. Indeed, whether we consider the boldness of the enterprise, or the good for- tune which attended it, it equals the greatest upon record. Tiie same appears from its imme- diate consequences; the Megarensians revolted from Antigonus, and joined Aratus; the Troezen- ians and Epidaurians, too, ranged themselves on the side of the Achaeans. In his first expedition beyond the bounds of Peloponnesus, Aratus overran Attica, and passing into Salamis, ravaged that island; so that the Achaean forces thought themselves escaped, as it were, out of prison, and followed him wherever he pleased. On this occasion, he set the Athe- nian prisoners free without ransom, by which he sowed among them the first seeds of defection from the Macedonians. He brought Ptolemy likewise into the Acheeau league, by procuring him the direction of the war, both by sea and land. Such was his influence over the Achaeans, that, as the laws did not allow him to be general two years together, they appointed him every other year; and in action, as well as counsel, he had always, in effect, the chief command: for they saw it was not wealth, or glory, or the friendship of kings, or the advantage of his own country, or anything else that he preferred to the promo- tion of the Achaean power. He thought that cities in their single capacity were weak, and that they could not provide for their defense without uniting and binding themselves together for the common good. As the members of the body cannot be nourished, or live, but by their connec- tion with each other, and when separated, pine and decay ; so cities perish when they break off from the community to which they belonged: and, on the contrary, gather strength and power by becoming parts of some great body, and en- joying the fruits of the wisdom of the whole.* Observing, therefore, that all the bravest people in his neighborhood lived according to their own laws, it gave him pain to see the Argives in sla- very, and he took measures for destroying their tyrant, Aristomachus-f Beside, he was ambitious of restoring Argos to its liberty, as a reward for the education it had afforded him, and to unite it to the Achaean league. Without much difficulty, he found them hardy enough to undertake the commission, at the head of whom vvas^Eschylus and Charimenes, the diviner; but they had no swords, for they were forbidden to keep arms, and the tyrant had laid great penalties on such as should be found to iiave any in their posses- sion. To supply this defect, Aratus provided several daggers for them at Corinth, and having * We shall here give the reader an account of some laws, by which the Achaean states were governed. ]. An extraordinary assembly was not to be summoned at the re- quest of fore'ign ambassadors, unless they first notified, in writing, to the Praetor and Dcmiur^i, the subject of their embassy. 2. No city, subject to the league, was to send any embassy to a foreign prince or state, without the con- sent, and approbation of the general diet. 3. No member of the assembly was to accept of presents from foreign princes, under any pretense whatsoever. 4. No prince, state, or city, was to be admitted into the league, without the consent of the whole alliance. 5. The general as- sembly was not to sit above three days. t This Aristomachus must not be confonnded with bim who wa-j thrown into the sea at Cenchraea. Between them reigned Aristippns. 654 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. sewed them up in the. packsaddles of horses that were to carry some ordinary wares, they were by that stratagem conveyed to Argos.* In the meantime, Charimenes, taking in another of his friends as a partner, yEschylus and his associates were so much provoked that they cast him off, and determined to do the business by themselves. But Charimenes, perceiving their intention, in resentment of the slight, informed the tyrant of their purpose, when they were set out to put it in execution. Upon which they fled with precipita- tion, and most of them escaped to Corinth. It was not long, however, before Aristomachus was dispatched by one of his own servants; but before any measures could be taken to guard against tyranny, Aristippus took the reins, and proved a worse tyrant than the former. Aratus, indeed, marched immediately to Argos, with all the Achaeans that were able to bear arms, in order to support the citizens, whom he doubted not to find ready to assert their liberty. But they had been 1'ong accustomed to the yoke, and were willing to be slaves ; insomuch that not one of them joined him, and he returned with the in- convenience of bringing a charge upon the Achae- ans, that they had committed acts of hostility in time of full peace; for they were summoned to answer for this injustice before the Mantineans. Aratus did not appear at the trial, and Aristip- pus being the prosecutor, got a fine of thirty minse laid upon the Achseans. As that tyrant both hated and feared Aratus, he meditated his death, and Antigonus entered into the scheme. They had their emissaries in almost every quar- ter, watching their opportunity. But the surest guard for a prince or other chief, is the sincere affection of his people: for when the commons and the nobility, instead of fearing their chief magistrate, fear for him, he sees with many eyes and hears with many ears. And here I cannot but leave a little the thread of my story, to de- scribe that manner of life which Aristippus was under a necessity of leading, if he chose to keep in his hands that despotism, that state of an arbi- trary sovereign, which is commonly so much en- vied and admired as the highest pitch of happi- ness. This tyrant, who had Antigonus for his ally, who kept so large a body-guard, and had not left one of his enemies alive in the city, would not suffer his guards to do duty in the palace, but only in the vestibule and porticoes about it. When supper was over, he sent away all his ser- vants, barred the door of the hall himself, and with his mistress crept through a trap-door into a small chamber above. Upon that door he placed hi;* bed, and slept there as a person in his anxious state of mind may be supposed to sleep. The ladder by which he went up, his mistress's mother look away, and secured in another room until morning, when she brought it again, and called np this wonderful prince, who crept like a reptile out of his hole. Whereas Aratus, who ac- quired a lasting command, not by force of arms, but by virtue, and in a way agreeable to the laws; who made his appearance without fear, in a plain vest and cloak, and always showed himself an en- emy to tyrants, left an illustrious posterity among the Greeks, which flourishes at this day. But of those who have seized castles, who have main- tained guards, who have fenced themselves with arms, and gates, and barricadoes, how few can we reckon up that have not, like timorous hares, Polybius places this attempt for the relief of Arj;os un- derthe second A.ristouiachus. Vid. Polyb. Kb. ii. died a violent death; and not one of them has I* ft a family, or even a monument, to preserve nis memory with honor. Aratus made many attempts, both private and open, to pull down Aristippus, and rescue Argos out of his hands, but he always miscarried. Once he applied his scaling ladders, and ascended the wall with a small party, in spite of the extreme danger that threatened him. He even succeeded so far as to kill the guards that came to oppose him; but when day appeared, and the tyrant at- tacked him on all sides, the people of Argos, as if he had not been fighting for their liberty, and they were only presiding at the Nemean games, sat very impartial spectators of the action, without making the least motion to assist. Aratus de- fended himself with great courage, and though he had his thigh run through with a spear, main- tained his post all day against such superior num- bers. Would his strength have permitted him to continue the combat in the night, too, he must have carried his point; for the tyrant now thought of nothing but making his escape, and had already sent most of his treasure on board of his ships. However, as no one gave Aratus intelligence of this circumstance, as his water failed, and his wound disqualified him from any further efforts, he called off his men and retired. He now de- spaired of succeeding by way of surprise, and therefore openly entered the territories of Argos with his army, and committed great devastations. He fought a pitched battle with Aristippus, near the river Chares, and on that occasion he was cen- sured for deserting the action, and letting the victory slip out of his hands; for one part of his army had clearly the advantage, and was ad- vancing fast in the pursuit, when he, without being overpowered where he acted in person, merely out of fear and diffidence, retired in great disorder to his camp. His men, on their return from the pursuit, expressed their indignation at being prevented from erecting the trophy, after they had out the enemy to flight, and killed many more rnen than they had lost. Aratus, wounded with these reproaches, determined to risk a second battle for the trophy. Accordingly, after his men had rested one day, he drew them out the next But finding that the enemy's numbers were in- creased, and that their troops were in much higher spirits than before, he durst not venture upon an action, but retreated after having obtained a truce to carry off the dead. However, by his engaging manners, and his abilities in the administration, he obviated the consequences of this error, a*)d added the city of Cleonae to the Achtean league. In Cleona? he caused the Nemean games to be celebrated; for he thought that city had the best and most ancient claim to them. The people of Ar- gos likewise exhibited them; and on this occasion, the freedom and security which had been the privilege of the champions were first violated. The Achseans considered as enemies all that had repaired to the games at Argos, and having seized them as they passed through their territories, sold them for slaves. So violent and implacable was their general's hatred of tyrants. Not long after, Aratus had intelligence that Aristippus had a design upon Cleoiue, but that he was afraid of him, because he then resided at Corinth, which was very near Cleonas. In this case he assembled his forces by proclamation, and having ordered them to take provisions for several days, marched to Cenchrese. By this maneuver ho hoped to bring Aristippus against Cleonas, as sup- posing him at a distance; and it had its effect The tyrant immediately set out from Argos with A R A T U S . 655 his army. But it was no sooner dark, than Aratus returned from Cenchreae to Corinth, and having placed guards in all the roads, led on the Achae- ans, who followed him in such good order, and with so much celerity and pleasure, that they not only made their march, but entered Cleonse that night, and put themselves in order of battle, nor did Aristippus gain the least knowledge of this movement. Next morning, by break of day, the gates were opened, the trumpet sounded, and Aratus, ad- vancing at full speed, and with all the alarm of war, fell upon the enemy, and soon routed them. Then he went upon the pursuit, particularly that way which he imagined Aristippus might take; for the country had several outlets. The pursuit was continued as far as Mycenre, and the tyrant, as Dinias tells us, was overtaken and killed by a Cretan named Tragiscus; and of his army there were above fifteen hundred slain. Aratus, though he had gained this important victory without the loss of one man, could not make himself master of Argos, nor deliver it from slavery; for Agias and young Aristornachus entered it with the king of Macedon's troops, and held it in subjection. This action silenced in a great measure, the calumny of the enemy, and put a stop to the in- solent scoffs of those who, to flatter the tyrants, had not scrupled to say, that whenever the Achaean general prepared for battle, his bowels lost their retentive faculty; that when the trumpet sounded, his eyes grew dim and his head giddy; and that, when he had given the word, he used to ask his lieutenants, and other officers, what farther need there could be of him, since the die was cast, and whether he might not retire, and wait the event of the day at some distance. These reports had prevailed so much, that the philosophers, in their inquiries in the schools, whether the palpi- tation of the heart and change of color on the ap- pearance of danger, were arguments of cowardice, or only of some natural defect, some coldness in the constitution? used always to quote Aratus as nil excellent general, who yet was always subject to these emotions on occasion of a battle. After he had destroyed Aristippus, he souglil means to depose Lysiades, the Megalopolitan, who had assumed the supreme power in his native city This man had something generous in his nature, and was not insensible to true honor. He had not, like most other tyrants, committed this in- justice out of a love of licentious pleasure, or from a motive of avarice; but incited, when very young by a passion for glory, and unadvisedly believing the false and vain accounts of the wondrous hap- piness of arbitrary power, he had made it hi; business to usurp it. However, he soon felt it < heavy burden; and being at once desirous to gaii the happiness which Aratus enjoyed, and to delivei himself from the fear of his intriguing spirit, he formed the noblest resolution than can be con- ceived, which was first to deliver himself from the hatred, the fears, and the guards that encompassec him, and then to bestow the greatest blessings on his country. In consequence hereof, he sent forj Aratus, laid down the authority he had assumed, and joined the city to the Achoean league. The Achaeans, charmed with his noble spirit, thought it not too great a compliment to elect him general. He was no sooner appointed than he discovered a second time, though Aratus exerted all his in- terest to get that appointment for another: for, is we have already observed, he had the command limself only every other year. Lysiades was for- tuiiate enough to gain that commission a third time, enjoying it alternately with Aratus. But, at last avowing himself his enemy, and often ac- cusing him to the Achajans, in full council, that people cast him off; for he appeared with only an assumed character to contend against real and sincere virtue. JEsop tells us, " That the cuckoo one day asked the little birds why they avoided her? and they answered, it was because they feared she would at last prove a hawk." In like manner i happened to Lysiades. It was suspected that, as he had been once a tyrant,-his laying down his power was not quite a voluntary thing, and that he would be glad to take the first opportunity to resume it. Aratus acquired new glory in the war with the uEtolians. The Achgeans pressed him to engage them on the confines of Megara; and Agis, king of the Lacedaemonians, who attended with an army, joined his instances to theirs, but he would not consent. They reproached him with want of spirit, with cowardice; they tried what the weap- ons of ridicule could do; but he bore all their attacks with patience, and would not sacrifice the real good of the community to the fear of seeming disgrace. Upon this principle he suffered the ^Etolians to pass mount Gerania, and to enter Peloponnesus without the least resistance. But when he found that in their march they had seized Fellene, he was no longer the same man. out the least delay, without waiting until all hit forces were assembled, he advanced with those he had at hand, against the enemy, who were much weakened by their late acquisition, for it had oc- casioned the utmost disorder and misrule. They had no sooner entered the "city than the private men dispersed themselves in, the houses, and be- gan to scramble and fight for the booty, while the generals and other officers seized the wives and daughters of the inhabitants, and each put his helmet on the head of his prize, as a mark to whom she belonged, and to prevent her coming into the hands of another. While they were thus employed, news was brought that Aratus was at hand, and ready to fall upon them. The consternation was such as might be expected among men in extreme disor- der. Before they were all apprized of iheir dan- ger, those that were about the gates and in the suburbs, had skirmished a few moments with the Achaeans, and were put to flight. And the pre- cipitation with which they fled greatly distressed those who had assembled to support them. Dur- ing this confusion, one of the captives, daughter to Epigethes, a person of great eminence in Pel- lene, who was remarkable for her beauty and ma- jestic mien, was seated in the temple of Diana, where the officer, whose prize she was, had placed her, after having put his helmet, which was adorned with three plumes of feathers, on her head. This lady, hearing the noise and tumult, ran out suddenly to see what was the cause. As she stood at the door of the temple, and looked down upon the combatants, with the helmet ^till upon her head, she appeared to the citizens a figure more than human, and the enemy took her an ambition to raise his name above that of Ara- fora deity; which struck the latter with such ter tus, and was by that means led to several un- necessary attempts, particularly to declare war against the Lacedaemonians. Aratus endeavored to prevent it, but his opposition was thought to oroceed from envy. Lysiades was chosen general ror and astonishment that they were no longer able to use their arms. The Pellenians tell us, that the statue of the goddess stands commonly untouched, and that, when the priestess moves it out of the temple, \v 656 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. order to carry it in procession, none dare look it in the face, but, on the contrary, they turn away their eyes with great care; for it is not only a terrible and dangerous sight to mankind, but its look renders the trees barren, and blasts the fruit where it passes. They add, that the priestess carried it out on this occasion, and al- ways turning the face directly toward the JEto- lians, filled them with horror, and deprived them of their senses. But Aratus, in his Commenta- ries, makes no mention of any such circumstance; he only says, that he put the ^tolians to flight, and entering the town with the fugitives, dislodged them by dint of sword, and killed seven hundred. This action was one of the most celebrated in history: Timanthes, the painter, gave a very lively and excellent representation of it. However, as many powerful states were com- bining against the Achaeans, Aratus hastened to make peace with the jEtolians, which he not only effected with the assistance of Pantaleon, one of the most powerful men among them, but likewise entered into an alliance offensive and defensive. He had a strong desire to restore Athens to its liberty, and exposed himself to the severest cen- pures of the Achseans, by attempting to surprise the Piraeus, while there was a truce subsisting be- tween them and the Macedonians. Aratus, in- deed, in his Commentaries, denies the fact, and lays the blame upon Erginus, with whom he took the citadel of Corinth. He says, it was the pecu- liar scheme of Erginus to attempt that port; that, his ladder breaking, he miscarried, and was pur- sued; and that to save himself, he often called upon Aratus, as if present; by which artifice he deceived the enemy, and escaped. But this de- fense of his, wants probability to support it. It is not likely that Ergiuus, a private man, a Sy- rian, would have formed a design of such conse- quence, without having Aratus at the head of it, to supply him with troops, and to point out the opportunity for the attack. Nay, Aratus proved the same against himself, by making not only two or three, but many more attempts upon the Pi- rteus. Like a person violently in love, his mis- carriages did not prevail upon him to desist; for, as his hopes were disappointed only by the fail- ure, perhaps, of a single circumstance, and he was always within a little of succeeding, he still encouraged himself to go on. In one repulse, as he tied over the fields of Thirasium, he broke his leg; and the cure could not be effected without several incisions; so that, for some time after, when he was called to action, he was carried into the field in a litter. After the death of Antigonus, and Demetrius's accession to the throne, Aratus was more intent than ever on delivering Athens from the yoke, and conceived an utter contempt for the Macedo- nians. He was, however, defeated in a battle near Phylacia, by Bithys, the new king's general; and a strong report being spread on one side that he was taken prisoner, and on another, that he was dead, Diogenes, who commanded in the Piraeus, wrote a letter to Corinth, insisting "That the Achaeans should evacuate the place, since Aratus was no more." Aratus happened to be in Cor- inth, when the letter arrived, and the messengers finding that their business occasioned much laughter and satirical discourse, retired in great confusion. The king of Macedon, himself, too, sent a ship with orders, " That Aratus should be brought to him in chains." The Athenians exceeding themselves in flat- tery to the Macedonians, wore chaplets of flow- ers upon the first report of Aratus's death. In- censed at this treatment, he immediately marched out against them; and proceeded as far as the Academy. But they implored him to spare them, and he returned without doing them the least in- jury. This made the Athenians sensible of his virtue; and, as upon tiie death of Demetrius, they were determined to make an attempt, for lib- erty, they called him to their assistance. Though he was riot general of the Auhseans that year, and was so much indisposed beside, by long sick- ness, as to be forced to keep his bed, yet lie caus- ed himself to be carried in a litter, to render them his best services. Accordingly he prevailed upon Diogenes, who commanded the garrison, to give up the Piraeus, Munychia, rfalarnis, and Sunium, to the Athenians, for the consideration of a hun- dred and fifty talents, twenty of which Aratus him- self furnished. Upon this the ^Eginetffi and Her- mionians joined the Achaeans, and great part of Arcadia paid contributions to the league. The Macedonians now found employment enough for their arms nearer home, and the Achaeans num- bering the ^Etolians among their allies, found a great addition to their power. Aratus still proceeded upon his old principles, and in bis uneasiness to see tyranny established in a city so near him as that of Argos, sent his agents to Aristomachus, to represent " How ad- vantageous a thing it would be for him to restore that city to liberty, and join it to the Achaean league; how noble to follow the examples of Ly- siades, and command so great a people with rep- utation and honor, as the general of their choice, rather than one city as a tyrant, exposed to per- petual danger and hatred." Aristomachus listen- ed to their suggestions, and desired Aratus to send him fifty talents to pay off his troops. The money was granted agreeably to his request; but Lysiades, whose commission as general was not expired, and who was ambitious to have this ne- gotiation pass with the Achaeans for his work, took an opportunity, while the money was provid- ing, to accuse Aratus to Aristomachus, as a per- son that had an implacable aversion to tyrants, and to advise him rather to put the business into his hands. Aristomachus believed these sugges- tions, and Lysiades had the honor of introducing him to the league. But on this occasion espe- cially the Achaean council showed their affection and fidelity to Aratus; for, upon his speaking against Aristomachus, they rejected him with marks of resentment. Afterward, when Aratus was prevailed upon to manage the affair, they readily accepted the proposal, and passed a decree, by which the Argives and Philasians were admit- ted into the league. The year following, too, Aristomachus was appointed general. Aristomachus finding himself esteemed by the Achasans, was desirous of carrying his arms into Laconia, for which purpose he sent for Aratus from Athens. Aratus made answer, that he ut- terly disapproved the expedition, not choosing that the Achoeans should engage with Cleomenes,* whose spirit and power kept growing in propor- tion to the dangers he had to encounter. Aris- tomachus, however, was bent upon the enter- prise, and Aratus yielding to his solicitations, re- turned to assist him in the war. Cleomenes offered him battle at Palantium, but Aratus prevented him from accepting the challenge. Hereupon * Some authors write that Cleomenes, at the instigition of the^Etolians, had built a fortress in the territory cf .t-9 Megalopolitans, called Jlthcbncum; which the Achsans considered as an open rupture, and therefore declared, in a general assembly, that the Lacedccmonians should bf> con sidered as enemies. ARATUS. 657 Lysiades accused Aratus to the Achceans, and the year following declared himself his competi- tor for the command; but Aratus had the major- ity of votes, and was, for the twelfth time, declar- ed general. This year he was defeated by Cleomenes at mount Lycoeum; and, in his flight, being forced to wander about in the night, he was supposed to be killed. This was the second time that a report of his death spread over Greece. He saved him- self, however; and having collected the scattered remains of his forces, was not satisfied with re- tiring unmolested: on the contrary, he availed himself in the best manner of his opportunity; and when none expected, or even thought of such a maneuver, fell suddenly upon the Manti- ueans, who were allies to Cleomenes, took their city, secured it with a garrison, and declared all the strangers he found there, free of the city. In short, he acquired that for the Achceans, when beaten, which they could not easily have gained when victorious. The Lacedaemonians again entering the territo- ries of Megalopolis, he marched to relieve that city. Cleomenes endeavored to bring him to an engagement, but he declined it, though the Meg- alopolitans pressed him much to leave the matter to the decision of the sword: for, beside that he was never very fit for disputes in the open field, he was now inferior in numbers; and, at a time of life when his spirits began to fail, and his am- bition was subdued, he would have had to do with a young man of the most adventurous courage. He thought, too, that, if Cleomenes, by his bold- ness, sought to acquire glory, it became him, by his caution, to keep that which he had. One day the light infantry skirmished with the Spartans, and having driven them to their camp, entered it with them, and began to plunder. Ar- atus, even then would not lead on the main body, but kept his men on the other side of a defile that lay between, and would not suffer them to pass. Lysiades, incensed at this order, and reproaching him with cowardice, called upon the cavalry to support the party which was in pursuit of the enemy, and not to betray the victory, nor to de- sert a man who was going to hazard all for his country. Many of the best men in the army followed him to the charge, which was so vigor- ous, that he put the right wing of the Lacedaemo- nians to flight. But, in the ardor of his courage, and his ambition for honor, he went inconsider- ately upon the pursuit, until he fell into an intri- cate way, obstructed with trees, and intersected with large ditches. Cleomenes attacked him in this ground, and slew him, after he had maintain- ed the most glorious of all combats, the combat for his people, almost at their own doors. The rest of the cavalry fled, and turning back upon the main body, put the infantry in disorder, so that the rout became general. This loss was principally ascribed to Aratus, for he wa* thought to have abandoned Lysiades to his fate. The Achajans, therefore, retired in great anger, and obliged him to follow them to ^Kgium. There it was decreed in full council, that he should be supplied with no more money, nor have any mercenaries maintained; and that if he would go to war, he must find resources for it himself. Thus ignominiously treated, lie was inclined to give up the seal, and resign his command immediately: but upon more mature consideration, he thought it better to bear the af- Iront with patience. Soon after this he iod the AchsBans to Orclioinenus, where he gave battle to Megistonus, father-in-law to Cleomenes, kill- 42 ed three hundred of his men, and took him pris- oner. It had been customary with him to take the command every other year, but when his turn came, and he was called upon to resume it, he absolutely refused, and Timoxenus was appoint- ed general. The reason commonly given lor his rejecting that commission was his resentment against the people for the late dishonor they had done him; but the real cause was the bad posture of the Achaean affairs. Cleomenes no longer ad- vanced by insensible steps; he had no nirasuros now to keep with the magistrates at home, nor anything to fear from their opposition; for ho had put the JSphori to death, distributed the lands in equal portions, and admitted many strangers citizens of Sparta. After he had made himself absolute master by these means at home, he marched into Achaia, and insisted upon being ap- pointed general of the league. Aratus, there- fore is highly blamed, when affairs were in such a tempestuous state, for giving up the helm to another pilot, when he ought rather to have taken it by force, to save the community from sinking: or, if he thought the Achrean power beyond the possibility of being retrieved, he should have yielded to Cleomenes, and not have brought Pelo- ponnesus into a state of barbarism again with Macedonian garrisons, nor filled the citadel of Corinth with Illyriau and Gaulish arms. For this was making those men to whom he had shown himself superior, both in his military and political capacity, and whom he vilified so much in his Commentaries, masters of his cities, under the softer, but false name of allies. It may be said perhaps, that Cleomenes wanted justice, and was tyrannically inclined; let us grant it for a moment; yet he was a descendant of the Hera- cluice, and his country was Sparta, the meanest citizen of which should have been preferred as general of the league to the first of the Macedo- nians, at least by those who set any value on the dignity of Greece. Beside, Cleomenes asked for the command among the Achoeans,* only to make their cities happy in his services, in returu for the honor of the title: whereas Antigonus, though declared commander-in-chief, both by sea and land, would not accept the commission until he was paid with the citadel of Corinth; in which he perfectly resembled ^Esop's hunter,-* for he would not ride the Achajans, though they offered their backs, and though by embassies and decrees they courted him to do it, until he had first bridled them by his garrison, and by the hos- tages which they were obliged to deliver to him. It is true, Aratus labors to justify himself by the necessity of affairs. But Polybius assures us, that long before that necessity existed, he had been afraid of the daring spirit of Cleomenes, and not only treated with Antigonus in private, but drawn in the Megalopolitans to propose it to the general assembly of the Achasans, that Anti- gonus should he invited to their assistance: for, whenever Cleomenes renewed his depredations, the Megalopolitans were the first that suffered by them. Phylarchus gives the same account; but we should not have afforded him much credit, if * Perhaps Aratus was apprehensive that Cleomene* would endeavor to make himself absolute among the Ach&ans, as he was already in Laceda-mon. There was a possibility, however, of his behaving with honor as a gen- eral of the Achaans; whereas, from Antigonus nothing could be expected but chnins. t Horace gives us this fable of J^np's; but, befora .(fjsop, the poet Stesichorus is said to have applied it to Ilia Himerians, when they were going to raise a guard for Pl- 058 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. he had not been supported by the testimony of Polybius: for such is his fondness for Cleomenes that he cannot speak of him but in an enthusias- tic manner; and, as if he was pleading a cause rather than writing a history, he perpetually dis- parages the one, and vindicates the other. The Achffians having lost Mantinea, which Cleomenes now took a second time, and being, moreover, defeated in a great battle at Hecatom- bffiuin, were struck with such terror that they immediately invited Cleomenes to Argos, with a promise of making him general. But A rat us no sooner perceived that he was on his march, and had brought his army as far as Lerma, than his fears prevailed, and he sent ambassadors to desire him to come to the Achaeans as friends and allies, with three hundred men only. They were to add, that if he had any distrust of the Achseans, they would give him hostages. Cleomenes told them, they did but insult and mock him with such a message, and returning immediately, wrote a letter to the Achaean council, full of com- plaints and invectives against Aratus. Aratus wrote another against Cleomenes in the same style; and they proceeded to such gross abuse as not to spare even the characters of their wives and families. Upon this Cleomenes sent a herald to declare war against the Acha^ans; and in the meantime, the city of Sicyon was near being betrayed to him. Disappointed of his expectation there, he turned against Pellene, dislodged the Achrean gar- rison, and secured the town for himself. A little after this, he took Pheneum and Penteleum; and it was not long before the people of Argos adopt- ed his interest, and the Philasians received his garrison: so that scarce any tiling remained firm to the Acharans of the dominions they had ac- quired. Aratus saw nothing but confusion about him; all Peloponnesus was in a tottering condi- tion; and the cities everywhere excited by inno- vators to revolt. Indeed none were quiet or sat- isfied with their present circumstances. Even among the Sicyonians and Corinthians many were found to have a correspondence with Cleo- menes, having been long disaffected to the admin- istration and the public utility, because they wanted to get the power into their own hands. Aratus was invested with full authority to pun- ish the delinquents. The corrupt members of Sicyon he cut off; but, by seeking for such in Corinth, in order to put them to death, he exas- perated the people, already sick of the same dis- temper, and weary of the Achaean government. On this occasion they assembled in the temple of Apollo, and sent for Aratus, being determined either to kill him or to take him prisoner, before they proceeded to an open revolt. He came lead- ing his horse, as if he had not the least mistrust or suspicion. "When they saw him at the gate, number of them rose up, and loaded him with reproaches. But he, with a composed counte- nance and mild addreSvS, bade them sit down again, and not, by standing in the way and making puch a disorderly noise, prevent other citizens who were at the door from entering. At the same time that he said this, he drew back step by step, as if he was seeking somebody to take his horse. Thus he got out of the crowd, and con- tinued to talk, without the least appearance of confusion, to such of the Corinthians as he met, and desired them to go to the temple, until he in- * What wonder, when they saw Aratns unfaithful to his first principles, and going to bring them again under the Macedonian yoke? sensibly approached the citadel. He then mount- d his horse, and without stopping any longer at he fort, than to give his orders to Cleopater the rovernor to keep a strict guard upon it, he rode ff to Sicyon, followed by no more than thirty soldiers, for the rest had left him and dispersed. The Corinthians, soon apprised of his flight, went in pursuit of him; but failing in their de- sign, they sent for Cleomenes, and put the city nto his hands. He did not, however, think this advantage equal to his loss in their suffering Ara- ;us to escape. As soon as the inhabitants of that district on the coast called Acte had surrendered their towns, he shut up the citadel with a wall of circumvallation, and a pallisadoed intrenchment. In the meantime many of the Acheans repair- ed to Aratus at Sicyon, and a general assembly was held, in which he was chosen commander-in- cliief, with an unlimited commission. He now first took a guard, and it was composed of his fellow-citizens. He had conducted the Achtean administration three-and-thirty years ; he had been the first man in Greece, both in power and reputation; but he now found himself abandon- ed, indigent, persecuted, without anything but one plank to trust to in the storm that had ship- wrecked his country. For the jEtolians had re- fused the assistance which he requested, and the city of Athens, though well inclined to serve him, was prevented by Euclides and Micion. Aratus bad a house and valuable effects at Cor- inth. Cleomenes would not touch anything that belonged to him, but sent for his friends and agents, and charged them to take the utmost care of his affairs, as remembering that they must give an account to Aratus. To Aratus himself he privately sent Tripylis, and afterward his fath- er-in-law Megistonus, with great offers, and among the rest a pension of twelve talents, which was double the yearly allowance he had from Pto- lemy. For this, he desired to be appointed gen- eral of the Achneans, and to be joined with him in the care of the citadel of Corinth. Aratus an- swered, " That he did not now govern affairs, but they governed him." As there appeared an insincerity in this answer, Cleomenes entered the territories of Sicyon, and committed great devas- tations. He likewise blocked up the city for three months together; all which time Aratus was debating with himself whether he should surren- der the citadel to Antigonus; for he would not send him succors on any other condition. Before he could take his resolution; the Achae- ans met in council at JEgium, and called him to attend it. As the town was invested by Cleo- menes, it was dangerous to pass. The citizens entreated him not to go, and declared they would not suffer him to expose himself to an enemy who was watching for his prey. The matrons and their children, too, hung upon him, and wept j for him as for a common parent and protector. He consoled them, however, as well as he could, and rode down to the sea, taking with him ten of his friends, and his son, who was now ap- proaching to manhood. Finding some vessels at anchor, he went on board, and arrived safe at .Egium. There he held an assembly, in which it was decreed that Antigonus should be called in, and the citadel surrendered to him. Aratus sent his own sou among the other hostages; which the Corinthians so much resented, that they plunder- ed his goods, and made a present of his house to Cleomenes. As Antigonus was now approaching with his army, which consisted of twenty thousand foot, all Macedonians, and of fourteen hundred horse, Aratus went with the Achaean magistrates by sea,* and without being discovered by the enemy, met him at Pegae; though he placed no great con- fidence in Antigonus, and distrusted the Mac^do- uians. F.or he knew that his greatness had been owing to the mischiefs he had done them, and that lie had first risen to the direction of affairs in consequence of his hatred to old Antigonus. But seeing an indispensable necessity before him, such an occasion as those who seemed to com- mand are forced to obey, he faced the danger. When Antigonus was told that Aratus was come in person, he gave the rest a common welcome, but received him in the most honorable manner; and finding him upon trial to be a man of probi- ty and prudence, took him into his most intimate friendship: for Aratus was not only serviceable to the king in great affairs, but in the hours of leisure his most agreeable companion. Antigo- nus, therefore, though young, perceiving in him such a temper, and such other qualities as fitted him for a prince's friendship, preferred him not only to the rest of the Achaeans, but even to the Macedonians that were about him, and continued to employ him in every affair of consequence. Thus the thing which the gods announced by the entrails of one of the victims, was accomplished: for it is said, that when Aratus was sacrificing not long before, there appeared in the liver two gall- bladders, inclosed in the same caul; upon which the diviner declared, that two enemies, who ap- peared the most irreconcilable, would soon be united in the strictest friendship. Aratus then took little notice of the saying, for he never put much faith in victims, nor indeed in predictions from anything else, but used to depend upon his reason. Some time after, however, when the war went on successfully, Antigonus made an entertainment at Corinth, at which, though there was a numerous company^he placed Aratus next above him. They had not sat long before Anti- gonus called for a cloak. At the same time he asked Aratus, "Whether he did not think it very cold," and he answered, " It was extremely cold." The king then desired him to sit nearer, and the servants who brought the cloak, put it over the shoulders of both. This putting Aratus in mind of the victim, he informed the king both of the sign and the prediction. But this happened long after the time that we are upon. While they were at Pegae, they took oaths of mutual fidelity, and then marched .against the en- emy. There were several actions under the walls of Corinth, in which -Cieornenes had fortified himself strongly, ancf the Corinthiaus defended the place with great vigor. In the meantime, Aristotle, a citizen of Argos, and friend of Aratus, sent an agent to him private- ly, with an offer of bringing that city to declare for him, if he would go thither in person with eorne troops. Aratus having acquainted Anti- gonus with this scheme, embarked fifteen hun- dred men and sailed immediately with them from the Isthmus to Epidaurus. But the people of Argos, without waiting for his arrival, had at- tacked the troops of Cleomenes, and shut them up in the citadel. Cleomenes having notice of this, and fearing that the enemy, if they were in possession of Argos might cut off his retreat to Lacedsemon, left his post before the citadel of Cor- inth the same night, and marched to the succor ^ *f his men. He reached it before Aratus, and gained some advantage over the enemy; but Ar- ARATUS. 659 atus arriving soon after, and the king appearing with his army, Cieornenes retired to Mantinea. Upon this all the cities joined the Achaeans again. Antigonus made himself master of the citadel of Corinth; and the Argives having ap- pointed Aratus their general, he persuaded them to give Antigonus the estates of the late tyrants and all the traitors. That people put Aristoma- chus to the torture at Cenchreae,* and afterward drowned him in the sea. Aratus was much cen- sured on this occasion, for permitting a man to surfer unjustly, who was not of a bad character, with whom he formerly had connections, and who, at his persuasion, had abdicated the supreme power, and brought Argos to unite itself to the Achaean league. There were other charges against Aratus, namely, that at his instigation, the Achaeans had giren the city of Corinth to Antigonus, as if it had been no more than an or- dinary village; that they had suffered him to pillage Orchomenus, and place in it a Macedonian gar- rison; that they had made a decree that their community should not send a letter or an embas- sy to any other king, without the consent of An- tigonus; that they were forced to maintain and pay the Macedonians; and that they had sacri- fices, libations, and games, in honor of Antigonus, the fellow-citizens of Aratus setting the exam- ple, and receiving Antigonus into their city, on which occasion Aratus entertained him in his house. For all these things they blamed Aratus, not considering that when he had once put the reins in the hand of that prince, he was necessa- rily carried along with the tide of regal power: no longer master of anything but his tongue, and it was dangerous to use that with freedom. For he was visibly concerned at many circumstances of the king's conduct, particularly with respect to the statues. Antigonus erected anew those of the tyrants which Aratus had pulled down, and demolished those he had set up in memory of the brave men that surprised the citadel of Corinth. That of Aratus only was spared, notwithstanding his intercession for the rest. In the affair of Mantinea,f too, the behavior of the Achaaana was not suitable to the Grecian humanity; for having conquered it by means of Antigonus, they put the principal of the inhabitants to the sword; some of the rest they sold, or sent in fetters to Macedonia; and they made slaves of the women and children. Of the money thus raised they di- vided a third part among themselves, and gave the rest to the Macedonians. But this had its ex- cuse in the law of reprisals; for, however shock- ing it may appear for men to sacrifice to their anger those of their own nation and kindred, yet in necessity, as Simonidessays, it seems rather a proper alleviation than a hardship, to give relief to a mind inflamed and aching with resentment. But as to what Aratus did afterward with respect to Mantinea, it is impossible to justify him upon a plea either of propriety or necessity. For An- * The magistrates called Demiurgi. See an account of them before. * Plutarch seems here to have followed Phylarchus. Po- lybius tells ns that ArUtomachus deserved greater punish, inent than he suffered, not only for his extreme cruelty when tyrant of Argos, but also for his abandoning the Achseans in their distress, and declaring for their enemies. t The IWantineans had applied to the Achscans for a gar* rison to defend them against the Lacedtemonians. In compliance with their request, the Acha-ans sent them three hundred of their own citizens, and two hundred mercena- ries. But the Mantineans soon after changing their minds, in the most perfidious manner massacred that garrison. They deserved, therefore, all that they are here said to have suffered; but Polybiiis makes no mention of the pry cipal inhabitants being put to death; he only says, t^ta goods were plundered, and some of the people sold tut slaves. 660 P LUT ARCH'S LIVES. tigonus having made a present of that city to the! Argives, they resolved to re-people it, and ap- pointed Aratus to see it done; in virtue of which commission, as well as that of general, he de- creed that it should no more be called Mantinea, but Antigonea, which name it still bears. Thus, by his means, Mantinea, the amiable Mantinea, as Homer calls it, was no more; and in the place of it we have a city which took its name from the man who ruined its inhabitants. Some time after this, Cleomenes, being over- thrown in a great battle near Sellasia,* quitted Sparta, and sailed to Egypt. As for Antigonus, after the kindest and most honorable behavior to Aratus, he returned to Macedonia. In his sick- ness there, which happened soon after iiis arrival, he sent Philip, then very young, but already de- clared his successor, into Peloponnesus; having first instructed him above all things to give atten- tion to Aratus, and through him to treat, with the cities, and make himself known to the Achoeans. Aratus received him with great honor, and man- aged him so well, that he returned to Macedonia full of sentiments of respect for his friend, and in the most favorable disposition for the interests of Greece. After the death of Antigonus, the ^Etolians de- spised the inactivity of the Achreans: for, accus- tomed to the protection of foreign arms, and sheltering themselves under the Macedonian power, they sunk into a state of idleness and disorder. This gave the ^Etolians room to at- tempt a footing in Peloponnesus. By the way they made some booty in the country about Pa- Ire and Dyme, and then proceeded to Messene, and laid waste its territories. Aratus was incensed at this insolence, but he perceived that Timoxe- lius, who was then general, took slow and dilatory measures, because his year was almost expired. Therefore, as he was to succeed to the command, he anticipated his commission by five days, for the sake of assisting the Messenians. He assem- bled the AchaBans, but they had now neither ex- ercise nor courage to enable them to maintain the combat, and consequently he was beaten in a bat- tle which he fought at Caphyse. Being ccused of having ventured too much on this occasion,! * Cleomenes had intrenched himself so strongly near Sel- iasia, in a narrow pass between the mountains Eva and Olympus, that Antigonus did not think proper to attack him there. It is not easy to comprehend what could induce Cleomenes lo come out of these intrenchments, and risk a pitched hattle. His troops were not so numerous as the enemy's by one third; and he was supplied with all sorts of provisions from Sparta; what then could make him hazard a battle, the event, of which was to decide the fate of Lacedeemon? Polybins, indeed, seems to insinuate the cause of his proceedings; for he tells us that Ptolemy, king of Egypt, who had promised to assist him in this war, ac- quainted him that he was not in a condition to make good his engagements. And as Cleomenes did not choose to try the other alternative, thai of suing to Antigonus for a peace, he risked all upon the event of that day. i Aratus was accused in this assembly, first of having taken the command upon him before his time. In the next place he was blamed for having dismissed the Achsan tioops, while the ^Etolians were still in the heart of Pelo- ponnesus. The third article against him was, his venturinj a battle with so few troops, when he niijjht have made, with great ease, a safe retreat to the neighboring towns, and there reinforced his army. The last and heaviest charge against him was, that after he had resolved to give the enemy hattle, he did not, in the whole action, take one gtep that became a general of any experience, for he sent the cavalry and light-armed foot to attack the enemy's rear, after their front had gained the advantage; whereas he onght to have encountered the front at first with the ail- vantage of having them on the declivity; in which case ins heavy-armed infantry would have done him great ser- vice. However, he endeavored to prove that the loss of tne battle was not his fault; adding that if he had been wanting in any of the duties of an able general, he asked he became afterward so cold, and so far abandoned his hopes for the public, as to neglect the oppor- tunities which the ^Etolians gave him, and suffered them to roam about Peloponnesus, in a bacchana- lian manner, committing all the excesses that in- solence could suggest. The Achaeans were now obliged to stretch out their hands again toward Macedonia, and brought Philip to interfere in the affairs of Greece. They knew the regard he had for Aratus, and the confidence he placed in him, and hoped on that account to find him tractable and easy in all then affairs. But the King now first began to listen to Apelles, Megaiacus, and other courtiers, who en- deavored to darken the character of Aratus, and prevailed upon him to support the contrary party, by which means Eperatus was elected general of the Achaeans. Eperatus, however, soon fell into the greatest contempt among them, and as Aratus would not give any attention to their concerns, nothing went well. Philip, finding that he had committed a capital error, turned again to Aratus, and gave himself up entirely to his direction. As his affairs now prospered, and his power and reputation grew under the culture of Aratus, he depended entirely on him for the farther increase of both. Indeed, it was evident to all the world, that Aratus had excellent talents, not only for guiding a commonwealth, but a kingdom too; for there appeared a tincture of his principles and manners in all the conduct of this young prince. Thus the moderation with which he treated the Spartans,* after they had offended him, his en- gaging behavior to the Cretans, by which he gained the whole island in a few days, and the glorious success of his expedition against the .iEtolians, gained Philip the honor of knowing how to follow good counsel, and Aratus that of being able to give it. On this account thecourtiers envied him still more; and as they found that their private engines of calumny availed nothing, they began to try open battery, reviling and insulting him at table with the utmost effrontery and lowest abuse. Nay, once they threw stones at him, as he was retiring from supper to his tent. Philip, incensed at such out- rage, fined them twenty talents, and upon their proceeding to disturb and embroil his affairs, put them to death. But afterward he was carried so high by the flow of prosperity, as to discover many disorderly passions. The. native badness of his disposition broke through the vail he had put over it, and by degrees his real character appeared. In the first place, he greatly injured young Aratus by cor- rupting his wife; and the commerce was a long time secret, because he lived under his roof, where he had been received under the sanction of hospi- tality. In the next place he discovered a strong aversion to commonwealths, and to the cities that were under that form of government. It was easy to be seen, too, that he wanted to shake off Aratus. The first suspicions of his intentions arose from his behavior with respect to the Mes- senians. There were two factious among them pardon, and hoped that, in regard of his past services, they would not censure him with rigor. This submission of his changed the minds of the whole assembly, and th people began to vent their rage upon his accusers. *The Spartans had killed, one of their Ephori, and sojne other.? of their citizens who wure in the interest of Philip; arid some of his counselors advised him to revenge the. affront with rigor. But he said that, as the Spartans no\r belonged to the Achtcan league, they were accountable to it; and that it ill became him to treat them with severity, who were his allies, when his predecessor had extended his clemency to them, though enemies. which had raised a sedition in the city. Aratus went to reconcile them: but Philip, getting to the place a day before him, added stings to their mutual resentments. On the one hand, he called the magistrates privately, and asked them whether they had not laws to restrain the rabble? And on the oilier, he asked the demagogues whether they had not hands to defend them against tyrants? The magistrates, thus encouraged, attacked the chiefs of the people, and they, in their turn, came with superior numbers, and killed the magistrates, with near two hundred more of their party. Alter Philip had engaged in these detestable prac- tices, which exasperated the Messenians still more against each other, Aratus, when he arrived, made no secret of his resentment, nor did he restrain his 8011 in the severe and disparaging things lie said to Philip. The young man had once a particular attachment to Philip, which in those days they distinguished by the name of love; but, on this occasion, he scrupled not to tell him, " That after such a base action, instead of appearing agreeable, he was the most deformed of human- kind." Philip made no answer, though anger evidently was working in iiis bosom, and he often muttered to himself while the other was speaking. How- ever, lie pretended to bear it with great calmness, and affecting to appear the man of subdued tem- per and refined manners, gave the elder Aratus his hand, and took him from the theater to the castle of Ithome,* under pretense of sacrificing to Jupiter and visiting the place. This fort, which is as strong as the citadel of Corinth, were it gar- risoned, would greatly annoy the neighboring country, and be almost impregnable. After Philip had offered his sacrifice there, and the diviner came to show him the entrails of the ox, he took them in both hands, and showed them to Aratus and Demetrius of Phariae, sometimes turning them to one, and sometimes to the other, and asking them, "What they saw in the entrails of the victim; whether they warned him to keep this citadel, or to restore it to the Messenians?" Demetrius smiled and said, " If you have the soul of a diviner, you will restore it; but, if that of a king, you will hold the bull by both his horns." By which he hinted that lie must have Peloponnesus entirely in subjection, if he added Ithome to the citadel of Corin'h. Aratus was a long time silent, but upon Philip's pressing him to declare his opinion, he said, " There are many mountains of great strength in Crete, many castles in Bceotia and Pliocis in lofty situations, and many impreg- nable places in Acarnania, both on the coast and within laud. You have seized none of these, and yet they all pay you a voluntary obedience. Robbers, indeed, take to rocks and precipices for security, but for a king there is no such fortress as honor and humanity. These are the things that have opened to you the Cretan sea; these have unbarred the gates of Peloponnesus. In short, by these it is that, at so early a period in life, you are become general of the one, hud sove- reign of the other." While he was yet speaking, Philip returned the entrails to the diviner, and taking Aratus by the hand, drew him along and aid, "Come on (hen, let us go as we came;" in- timating that he had overruled him, and deprived him of such an acquisition as the city would have been. From this time, Aratus began to withdraw from f n the printed text it is Ithomata, which agrees with the ame this fort has in Polybius; but one of the manuscripts gives us Ithome, which is the name Strabo gives it. ARATUS. 661 court, and by degrees to give up all correspon- dence with Philip. He refused also to accompany him in his expedition into Epirus, though applied to for that purpose; choosing to stay at home, lest he should share in the disrepute of his actions. But, after Philip had lost his fleet with great dis- grace in the Roman war, and nothing succeeded to his wish, he returned to Peloponnesus, and tried once more what art co^ild do to impose upon the Messenians. When he found that his designs were discovered, he had recourse to open hostili- ties, and ravaged their country. Aratus then saw all his meanness, and broke with him entirely. By this time, too, he perceived that he had dis- honored his son's bed; but though the injury lay heavy on him, he concealed it from his son; be- cause hecould only inform him that he was abused, without being able to help him to the means of revenge. There seemed to be a great and un- natural change in Philip, who, of a mild and sober young prince, became a libidinous and cruel ty- rant: but in fact it was not a change of disposi- tion, it was only discovering in a time of full se- curity, the vices which his fears had long con- cealed. That his regard for Aratus had originally a great mixture of fear and reverence, appeared even in the method he took to destroy him. For though he was very desirous of effecting that cruel purpose, because he neither looked upon himself as an absolute prince, nor a king, noreven a free- man, while Aratus lived, yet he would not at- tempt anything against him in the way of open force, but desired Phaurion, one of his friends and generals, to take him off' in a private manner, in his absence. At the same time he recommended poison. That officer, accordingly, having formed an acquaintance, with him, gave him a dose, not of a sharp or violent kind, but such a one as causes lingering heats and a slight cough, and gradually brings the body to decay. Aratus was not ig- norant of the cause of his disorder, but knowing that it availed nothing to discover it to the world, he bore it quietly and in silence, as if it had been an ordinary distemper. Indeed, when one of his friends carne to visit him in his chamber, and ex- pressed his surprise at seeing him spit blood, he said, " Such, Cephalon, are the fruits of royai friendship." Thus died Aratus at ^Egium, after he had been seventeen times general of the Achajans. That people were desirous of having him buried there, and would have thought it an honor to give him a magnificent funeral, and a monument worthy of his life and character. But the Sicyonians con- sidered it as a misfortune to have him interred anywhere, but among them, and, therefore, per- suaded the Achseans to leave the disposal of his body entirely to them. As there was an ancient law that had been observed with religious care, against burying any person within their walls, and they were afraid to transgress it on this occasion, they sent to inquire of the priestess of Apollo, at Delphi, and she returned this answer: Seek you what funeral honors you shall pay To your departed prince, the small reward For liberty restored, and j,'lory won? Bid Sicyon, fearless rear the sacred tomb. For the vile tongue that dares with impious breath Offend Aratus, blasts the face of Nature, Pours horror on the earth, and seas, and skies. This oracle gave great joy to all the Achaeans, particularly the people of Sicyon. They changed the day of mourning into a festival, and adorning themselves with garlands and white robes, brought the corpse with songs and dances from ^Egium to Sicyon. There they selected the most conspicuous 662 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. ground, and interred him as the founder and de- liverer of their city. The- place is still called Aratium: and there they offer two yearly sac- rifices; the one on the fifth of the month Dresius, (the Athenians call it Anthesterion*) which was the day he delivered the city from the yoke of tyrants, and on which account they call the festi- val, Soteria: the other on his birth-day. The first sacrifice was offered by the priest of Jupiter, the Preserver, and the second by the son of Aratus, who, on that occasion, wore a girdle, not entirely white, but half purple. The music was sung to the harp by the choir that belonged to the theater. The procession was led up by the master of the Gymnasium, at the head of the boys and young men; the senate followed, crowned with flowers, and such of the other citizens as chose to attend. Some small marks of the ceremonies observed on those days still remain, but the greatest part is worn out by time and other circumstances. Such was the life and character that history has given us of the elder Aratus. And as to the younger, Philip, who was naturally wicked, and delighted to add insolence to cruelty, gave him potions, not of the deadly kind, but such as de- prived him of his reason; insomuch that he took up inclinations that were shocking and monstrot and delighted in things that not only dishonored but destroyed him. Death, therefore, which took him in the flower of his age, was considered, not as a misfortune, but a deliverance. The ven- geance, however, of Jupiter, the patron of hospital- ity and friendship, visited Philip for his breach of both, and pursued him through life; for he was beaten by the Romans, and forced to yield himself to their discretion. In consequence of which, he was stripped of all the provinces he had conquered, gave up all his ships, except five, obliged himself to pay a thousand talents, and deliver his son as a hostage. He even held Macedonia and its de- pendencies only at the mercy of the conquerors. Amidst all these misfortunes, he was possessed only of one blessing, a son of superior virtue, and him he put to death, in his envy and jealousy of the honors the Romans paid him. He left his crown to his other son, Perseus, who was believed not to be his, but a supposititious child, born of a sempstress, named Gnathrenium. It was over him that Paulus ^finiilius triumphed, and in him ended the royal race of Antigonus, whereas the posterity of Aratus remained to our days, and still continues in Sicyon, and Pelleue. GALBA. IPHICRATES, the Athenian general, thought that a solaier of fortune should have an attachment both to money and pleasure, that his passions might put him upon fighting with more boldness for a supply. But most others are of opinion, that the main body of an army, like the healthy ^latural body, should have no motion of its own, but be entirely guided by the head. Hence, Paulus .ZEmilius, when he found his army in Mace- donia, talkative, busy, and ready to direct their general, is said to have given orders, " That each should keep his hand fit for action, and his sword sharp, and leave the rest to him." And Plato, perceiving that the best general cannot undertake anything with success, unless his troops are sober, and perfectly united to support him, concluded, that to know how to obey, required as generous a disposition, and as rational an education, as to know how to command; for these advantages would connect the violence and impetuosity of the soldier with the mildness and humanity of the philosopher. Among oilier fatal examples, what happened among the Romans after the death of Nero, is sufficient to show, that nothing is more dreadful than an undisciplined army, actuated only by the impulse of their own ferocity. De- mades, seeing the wild and violent motions of the Macedonian army, alter the death of Alexander, compared it to the Cyclops,f after his eye was put out. Bui the Roman empire more resembled the extravagant passions and ravings of the Titans, which tlie poets tell us of, when it was torn in pieces by rebellion, and turned its arms against itself; not so much through the ambition of the emperors, as the avarice and licentiousness of Febraaiy. t Polyphemus. the soldiers, who drove out one emperor by another.* Dionysius, the Sicilian, speaking of Alexander, of Pherse, who reigned in Thessaly only ten months, and then was slain, called him, in deri- sion of the sudden change, a theatrical tyrant. But the palace of the Ca?sars received four empe- rors in a less space of time, one entering, and another making his exit, as if they had only been acting a part upon the stage. The Romans, in- deed, had one consolation amidst their misfor- tunes, that they needed no other revenge upon the authors of them, than to see them destroy each other; and with the greatest justice of all, fell the first who corrupted the army and taught them to expect so much upon the change of em- peror, thus dishonoring a glorious action by mer- cenary considerations, and turning the revolt from Nero into treason. For Nymphidius Sabi- nus, who, as we observed before, f was joined in commission with Tigellinus, as captain of the prsetorian cohorts, after Nero's affairs were in a desperate state, and it was plain that he intended to retire into Egypt, persuaded the army, as if Nero had already abdicated, to declare Galba em- peror, promising every soldier of the praetorian cohorts, seven thousand five hundred drachmas, and the troops that were quartered in the provinces, twelve hundred and sixty drachmas a man: a sum which it was impossible to collect, without doing infinitely more mischief to the empire than Nero had done in his whole reign. This proved the immediate ruin of Nero; and soon after destroyed Galba himself. They de- In the original it is, as one nail is driven out by aaicthfr t In the life of Nero, which is lost. G ALB A. 663 rted Nero in hopes of receiving the money, and iispatched Galba because they did not receive it. Afterward, they sought for another, who might pay them that sum, but they ruined themselves by their rebellions and treasons, without gaining what they had been made to expect. To give a complete and exact account of the affairs of those times, belongs to the professed historian. It is, however, in my province, to lay before the reader the most remarkable c ire um stances in the lives of the Caspars. It is an acknowledged truth, that Sulpitius Galba was the richest private man that ever rose to the imperial dignity. But though his extraction was of the noblest, from the family of the Servii, yet he thought it a greater honor to be related to Quiii tus Catulus Capitolinus, who was the first man in his time for virtue and reputation, though he voluntarily left to others the pre-eminence in power. He was also related to Livia, the wife of Augustus, and it was by her interest that he was raised from the office he had in the palace, to the dignity of consul. It is said that he acquitted himself iu his commission in Germany with honor; and that he gained more reputation than most commanders, during his pro-consulate in Africa. But his simple parsimonious way of liv- ing, passed for avarice in an ernperor; and the pride he took in economy and strict temperance, was out of character. He was sent governor into Spain by Nero be- fore that emperor had learned to fear such of the citizens as had great authority in Rome. Beside, the mildness of his temper, and his advanced time of life, promised a cautious and prudent conduct. The emperor's receivers,* a most abandoned set of men, harassed the provinces in the most cruel manner. Galba could not assist them against their persecutors, but his concern for their mis- fortunes, which appeared not less than if he had been a sufferer himself, afforded them some con- solation, even while they were condemned and sold for slaves. Many songs were made upon Nero, and sung everywhere; and as Galba did not endeavor to suppress them, or join the re- ceivers of the revenues in their resentment, that was a circumstance which endeared him still more to the natives. For by this time he had contracted a friendship with them, having long been their governor. He had borne that coin- mission eight years, when Junius Vindex, who commanded in Gaul, revolted against Nero. It is said that before this rebellion broke out, Galba had intimations of it in letters from Vindex: but he neither countenanced nor discovered it, as the governors of other provinces did, who sent the letters they had received to Nero, and by that means ruined the project, as far as was in their power. Yet those same governors afterward Coining in the conspiracy against their prince, showed that they could betray not only Vindex, hut themselves. But after Vindex had openly commenced hos- tilities, he wrote to Galba, desiring him " To ac- cept the imperial dignity, and give a head to the strong Gallic body which so much wanted one; which had :io less than a hundred thousand men in arms, and was able to raise a much greater num- ber." Galba then called a council of his friends. Some of them advised him to wait and see what motions there might be in Rome, or inclinations * Procuratores: they had full powers to collect the re- venues, ami scrupled at no acts of oppression in the course ol their proceedings. for a change. But Titus Vinius, captain of one of the praetorian cohorts, said, "What room is there, Galba, fordeliberation? To inquire whether we shall continue faithful to Nero, is to have re- volted already. There is no medium. We must either accept the friendship of Viudex, as if Nero was our declared enemy, or accuse and fight Vin- dex; because he desires that the Romans should have Galba for their emperor, rather than Nero for their tyrant. " Upon this, Galba, by an edict, fixed a day for enfranchising all who should pre- sent themselves. The report of this soon drew together a multitude of people who were des'uous of a change, and he had no sooner mounted the tribunal, than, with one voice, they declared him emperor. He did not immediately accept the title, but accused Nero of great crimes, and lament- ed the fate of many Romans of great distinction, whom he had barbarously slain: after which he declared, " That he would serve his country with his best abilities, not as Csesar or emperor, but as lieutenant to the senate and people of Rome."* That it was a just and rational scheme which Vindex adopted in calling Galba to the empire, there needs no better proof than Nero himself. For though he pretended to look upon the com- motions in Gaul as nothing, yet when he received the news of Gaiba's revolt, which he happened to do just after he had bathed, and was sat down to supper, in his madness he overturned the table. However, when the senate had declared Galba an enemy to his country, he affected to despise the danger, and, attempting to be rnerry upon it, saitt to his friends, "I have long waited a pretense to raise money, and this will furnish me with an excellent one. The Gauls, when I have conquered them, will be a fine booty, and, in the meantime, I will seize the estate of Galba, since he is a de- clared enemy, and dispose of it as I think fit." Accordingly he gave directions that Gaiba's estate should be sold; which Galba no sooner heard of, than he exposed to sale all that belonged to Nero in Spain, and more readily found purchasers. The revolt from Nero soon became general; and the governors of provinces declared for Galba: only Clodius Macer in Africa, and Virginius Ru- fus in Germany, stood out and acted for themselves, but upon different motives. Clodius being con- scious to himself of much rapine and many mur- ders, to which his avarice and cruelty had prompt- ed him, was in a fluctuating state, and could not take his resolution either to assume or reject the imperial title. And Virginius, who commanded some of the best legions in the empire, and had been often pressed by them to take the title of em- peror, declared, "That he would neither take it himself, nor surfer it to be given to any other but the person whom the senate should name." Galba was not a little alarmed at this at first. But after the forces of Virginius and Vindex had overpowered them, like charioteers no longer able to manage the reins, and forced them to fight, Vindex lost twenty thousand Gauls in the battle, and then dispatched himself. A report was thon current, that the victorious army, in consequence of so great an advantage, would insist that Virgin- ius should accept the imperial dignity, and that, if he refused it, they would turn again to Nero. This put Galba in a great consternation, and he wrote letters to Virginius, exhorting him to act in concert with him, Jor preserving the empire and * Dio Cassius informs us, that this declaration was made nine months and thirteen days before Galba'* death, and consequently on the third of April; tor lie was assassinated on the'fifteenth of January in the following year. 664 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. liberty of the Romans. After which he retired with his friends to Colonia, a city in Spain, and there spent some time, rather in repenting what *ie had done, and wishing for the life of ease and leisure, to which he had been so long accustomed, than taking any of the necessary steps for his pro- motion. It was now the beginning of summer, when one evening, a little before night, one of Gulba'fl freed- men, a native of Sicily, arrived in seven days from Rome. Being told that Galba was retired to rest, he ran up to his chamber and having opened it, in spite of the resistance of the chamberlains, inform- ed him, "That as Nero did not appear, though he was living at that time, the army first, and then the people and senate of Rome, had declared Gal- ba emperor: and, not long after, news was brought that Nero was dead. He added, that he was not satisfied with the report, but went and saw the dead body of the tyrant, before he would set out." Galba was greatly elevated by this intelligence; and he encouraged the multitudes that soon at- tended at the door by communicating it to them, though the expedition with- which it was brought appeared incredible. But, two days after, Titus, Vilnius, with many others, arrived from the camp, and brought an account of all the proceedings of the senate. Vinius* was promoted to an honora- ble employment; while the freed man had his name changed from Icelus to Marcianus, was honored with the privilege of wearing the gold ring, and had more attention paid him than any other of the freed men. Meantime, at Rome, Nymphidius Sabinus got the administration into his hands, not by slow and insensible steps, but with the greatest celerity. He knew that Galba, on account of his great age, being now seventy-three, was scarce able to make the journey to Rome, though carried in a litter. Beside, the forces there had been long inclined to serve him, and now they depended upon him only, considering him as tlteir benefactor on account of the large gratuity he had promised, and Galba as their debtor. He therefore immediately com- manded his colleague Tljfellinus to give up his sword. He made great entertainments, at which he received persons of consular dignity, and such as had commanded armies and provinces; yet he gave the invitation in the name of Galba. He likewise instructed many of the soldiers to suggest it to the praetorian cohorts that they should send a message to Galba, demanding that Nymphidius should be always their captain, and without a col- league. The readiness the senate expressed to add to his honor and authority, in calling him their benefactor, in going daily to pay their respects at his gate, and desiring that he would take upon him to propose and confirm every decree, brought him to a much higher pitch of insolence; insornmch that, in a little time he became not only obnoxious, but formidable to the very persons that paid their court to him. When the consuls had charged the public messengers with the decrees to be car- ried to the ernperor, and had sealed the instruments with their seal, in order that the magistrates of the towns through which they were to pass, seeing their authority, might furnish them with carriages at every different stage for the greater expedition he resented it that they had not made use of his seal, and employed his men to carry the dispatches. * Vinius was of a pnetorian family, and had behaved with honor as governor of Gallia Narbonensis ; but when he be- came the favorite and first minister of the emperor of Rome, be soon made his master obnoxious to the people, and min- ed himself. The truth is, lie was naturally of a bad dispo- sition, and a man of no principle. It is said that he even had it under consideration whether he should not punish the consuls; but upon their apologizing and begging pardon for the affront, he was appeased. To ingratiate himself with the people, he did not hinder them from dis- patching, by torture, such of Nero's creatures as fell into their hands. A gladiator, named Spicil- lus, was put under the statues of Nero, and dragged about with them in the forum until he died: Aponius, one of the informers, was extended on the ground, and wagons, loaded with stones, driven over him. They tore many others in pieces, and some who were entirely innocent. So that Mauriscus, who had not only tiie charac- ter of one of the best men in Rome, but really deserved it, said one day to the senate, "He was afraid they should soon regret the loss of Nero." Nymphidius, thus advancing in his hopes, waa not at all displeased at being called the son of Cuius Caesar, who reigned after Tiberius. It seems that prince, in his youth, had some commerce with his mother, who was daughter of Calista, one of Ccesar's freedrnen, by a sempstress, and who was not wanting in personal charms. But it is evident that the connection Caius had with her, was after the birth of Nyinphuiius; and it was believed that he was the son of Martianus the gladiator, whom Nyrnphidia fell in love with, on account of his reputation in his way; beside his resemblance to the gladiator gave a sanction to that opinion. Be that as it may, he acknowledg- ed himself the son of Nymphidia, and yet insisted that he was the only person who deposed Nero. Not content with the honors and emolument she enjoved on that account, ******* * * * * * * * he aspired to the imperial seat, and had his engines privately at work in Rome, in which he employed his friends, with some intriguing women, and some men of consular rank. He sent also Gellia- nus, one of his friends, into Spain, to act as a spy upon Galba. After the death of Nero, all things went for Gulba according to his wish; only the uncertainty what part Virginius Rufus would act, gave him some uneasiness. Virginius commanded a power- ful army, which had already conquered Vindex; and he held in subjection a very considerable part of the Roman empire: for he was master, not only of Germany, but Gaul, which was in great agita- tion and ripe for a revolt. Galba, therefore, was apprehensive that he would listen to those who offered him the imperial purple. Indeed, there was not an officer of greater name or reputation than Virginius. nor one who had more weight in the affairs of those times; for he had delivered the empire both from tyranny and a Gallic war. He abode, however, by his first resolution, and reserv- ed the appointment of emperor for the senate. After Nero's death was certainly known, the troops again pressed hard upon Virginius, and 0119 of the tribunes drew his sword in the pavilion, and bade him receive either sovereign power or the steel; but the menace had no effect. At last, after Fabius Valens, who commanded one legion, had taken the oath of fidelity to Galba, and letters arrived from Rome with an account of the senate's decree, he persuaded his army, though with great difficulty, to acknowledge Galba. The new em- peror having sent Flaccus Hordeonius as his suc- cessor, he received him in that quality, and deliv- ered up his forces to him. He then went to meet Galba, who was on his journey to Rome, and alten* ded him thither, without finding any mark seither of G A L B A. 665 his favor or resentment. The reason of this was, that Galba, on the one hand, considered him in too respectable a light to offer him any injury; and, on the other hand, the emperor's friends, particu- larly Titus Viiiius, were jealous of the progress he might make in his favor. But that officer was not aware, that, while lie was preventing his pro- motion, he was co-operating with his good ge- nius, in withdrawing him from the wars and ca- lamities in which oilier generals were engaged, and bringing him to a life of tranquillity lull of days and peace. The ambassadors, which the senate sent to Galba, met him at Narbon, a city of Gaul. There they made their compliments, and advised him to show himself as soon as possible to the people of Rome, who were very desirous to see him. He gave them a kind reception, and enter- tained them in an agreeable manner. But though Nymph iuius had sent hirn rich vessels, and other furniture suitable to a great prince, which he had taken out of Nero's palace, he made use of none of it: everything was served up in dishes of his own. This was a circumstance that did hirn honor, for it showed hirn a man of superior sentiments, and entirely above vanity. Titus Vinius, however, soon endeavored to convince him, that these superior sentiments, this modesty and simplicity of manners, betrayed an ambition for popular applause, which real greatness of mind disdains; by which argument he prevailed with him to use Nero's riches, and show all the impe- rial magnificence at his entertainments. Thus the old man made it appear that in time he would be entirely governed by Vinius. No man had a greater passion for money than Vinius ; nor was any man more addicted to women. While he was yet very young, and making his first campaign under Calvisius Sabi- nus, he brought the wife of his general, an aban- doned prostitute, one night into the camp in a sol- dier's habit, and lay with her in that part of it which the Romans call the Principia. For this, Caius Caesar put him in prison; but he was re- leased upon the death of that prince. After- ward, happening to sup with Claudius Caesar, he stole a silver cup. The emperor being inform- ed of it, invited him the following evening, but ordered the attendants to serve him with nothing but earthen vessels. This moderation of the emperor seemed to show that the theft was deserv- ing only of ridicule, and not serious resentment. but what he did afterward, when he had Galba and his revenues at command, served partly as the cause, and partly as the pretense, for many events of the most tragical kind. Nymphidius, upon the return of Gellianus, whom he had sent as a spy upon Galba, was in- formed that Cornelius Laco was appointed to the command of the guards and of the palace, and that all the power would be in the hands of Vin- ius. This distressed him exceedingly, as he had no opportunity to attend the emperor, or speak to hirn in private; for his intentions were sus- pected, and all were on their guard. In this per- plexity he assembled the officers of the praetorian cohorts, and told them, that "Galba was indeed an old man of mild and moderate sentiments; but that, instead of using his own judgment, he was entirely directed by Vinius and Laco, who made a bad use of their power. It is our business, therefore," continued he, " before they insensibly establish themselves, and become sole masters, as Tigellinus was, to send ambassadors to the empe- peror in the name of all the troops, and to repre- sent to him, that if he removes those two coun- selors from his person, he will find a much moro agreeable reception among the Romans." Nym- phidius perceiving that his officers did not ap- prove the proposal, but thought it absurd and pre- posterous to dictate the choice of friends to an emperor of his age, as they might have done to a boy who now first tasted power, he adopted another scheme. In hopes of intimidating Gal- ba, he pretended sometimes, in his letters, that there were discontents, and dangers of an insur- rection in Rome; sometimes, that Clodius Ma- cer had laid an embargo in Africa on the corn ships. One while he said, the German legions were in motion, and another while, that there wag the same rebellious disposition among those in Syria and Judaea. But as Galba did not give much attention or credit to his advices, he resolv- ed to usurp the imperial title himself, before he arrived; though Clodius Celsus, the Antiochian, a sensible man, and one of his best friends, did all in his power to dissuade him; and told him plain- ly, he did not believe there was one family in Rome that would give him the title of Cassar. Many others, however, made a jest of Galba; and Mithridates of Pontus, in particular, making merry with his bald head and wrinkled face, said, "The Romans think hirn something extraor- dinary while he is at a distance, but as soon as he arrives, they will consider it a disgrace to the times to have ever called him Caesar." It was resolved, therefore, that Nymphidius should be conducted to the carnp at midnight, and proclaimed emperor. But Antonius Honoratus, the first tribune, assembled in the evening the troops under his command, and blamed both him- self and them, for changing so often in so short a time, not in pursuance of the dictates of reason, or for making a better choice, but because some demon pushed them on from one treason to another. "The crimes of Nero, indeed," said he, " may justify our first measures. But has Galba murdered his own mother, or his wife? Or has he made you ashamed of your emperor, by appearing as a fiddler or an actor on a stage? Yet not even these things brought us to abandon Nero; but Nymphidius first persuaded us that he had abandoned us, and was fled into Egypt. Shall we then sacrifice Galba after Nero; and when we have destroyed the relation of Livia, as well as the son of Agrippina,set the son of Nymphidia on the imperial throne? Or rather, after having taken vengeance on a detestable tyrant in Nero, shall we not show ourselves good and faithful guards to Galba?" Upon this speech of the tribune, all his men acceded to the proposal. They -applied also to their fellow-soldiers, and prevailed upon most of them to return to their allegiance. At the same time a loud shout was heard in the camp; and Nymphidius either believing (which is the ac- count that some give us) that the troops were calling him in order to proclaim him emperor, or else hastening to appease the insurrection, and fix such as he found wavering, went with lights to the camp; having in his hand a speech composed for him by Cingonius Varro, which he had com- mitted to memory, in order to pronounce it to the army. But seeing the gates shut, and a num- ber of men in arms, upon the wall, his confidence abated. However, advancing nearer, he asked them, "What they intended to do, and by whose command they were under arms?" They an- swered one and all, " That they acknowledged no other emperor but Galba." Then pretending to enter into their opinion, he applauded their fidel- ity, and ordered those that accompanied him to 666 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. follow his example. The guard opening the 1 which Nero had given to persons that pleased gate, and suffering him to enter with a few | him on the stage, or in the pal&stra, he insisted of his people, a javelin was thrown at him, | with great rigor that it should be all returned, ex- which Septimius, who went before, received upon j cept a tenth part. And as persons of such dis- his shield. But, others drawing their swords, he solute lives, who mind nothing but provision lor fled, and was pursued into a soldier's hut, where the day, could produce very little, he caused in- they dispatched him. His body was dragged to the quiry to be made for all who had bought any- middle of the camp, where they enclosed it with thing from them, or received presents, and oblig- pales, and exposed it to public view the next day. | ed them to refund. This affair extending to great Nyrnphidius being thus taken off, Galba was numbers of people, and seeming to have no end, it no sooner informed of it than he ordered such I reflected disgrace upon the emperor, and brought of his accomplices as had not already dispatched themselves, to be put to death. Among these was Cingonius who composed the oration, and Mithridates of Pontus. In this the emperor did not proceed according to the laws and customs of whatever he thought proper. In short, as He- the public envy and hatred on Vinius, because he mad:'! the emperor sordid and mean to others, while he pillaged the treasury himself in the most insatiable manner, and took and sold the Romans; nor was it indeed a popular measure to inflict capital punishment upon persons of emi- nence, without any form of trial, though they might deserve de.ath. For the Romans, deceived, as it usually happens, by the first report, now ex- pected another kind of government. But what afflicted them most was the order he sent for the execution of Petronius Turpilianus, a man of consular dignity, merely because he had been faithful to Nero. There was some pretense for taking off Macer in Africa, by means of Treboni- anus, and Fonteius in Germany by Valens, be- cause they were in arms, and had forces that he might be afraid of. But there was no reason why Turpilianus, a defenseless old man, should not have a hearing, at least under a prince who should have preserved in his actions the moderation he so much affected. Such complaints there were against Galba on the subject. When he was about five-and- twenty furlongs from the city, he found the way stopped by a dis- orderly parcel of seamen, who gathered about him on all sides.* These were persons whom Nero had formed into a legion, that they might act as soldiers. They now met him on the road to have their establishment confirmed, and crowd- ed the emperor so much, that he could neither be seen nor heard by those who came to wait on him; for they insisted, in a clamorous manner, on having legionary colors and quarters assigned them. Galba put them off to another time; but they considered that as a 'denial; and some of them even drew their swords; upon which he or- dered the cavalry to fall upon them. They made no resistance, but fled with the utmost precipita- tion, and many of them were killed in their flight. It was considered as an inauspicious cir- cumstance for Galba to enter the city amidst so much blood and slaughter. And tbose who des- pised him before as weak and inactive through age, now looked upon him as an object of fear and horror. Beside, while he endeavored to reform the ex- travagance and profusion with which money used to be given away by Nero, he missed the mark of propriety. When Canus, a celebrated per- former on the flute, played to him one evening at court, after expressing the highest satisfaction at the excellence of his music, he ordered his purse to he brought, and taking out a few pieces of gold,f gave them to Canus, telling him at the same time, that this was a gratuity out of his own, not the public money. As for the money Dio Cassins tells us (lib. Ixiv.) that sevet thousand of the disarmed multitude were cut to pieces on the spot; and others were committed to prison, where they lay until the death of Galbo t Suetonius says, Galba gave him five denarii. But that fane there were denarii of gold. That writer adds, siod says, Spare not the full cask, nor, when shallow streams Declare the bottom near, withdraw your hand. So Vinius seeing Galba old and infirm, drank freely of the favors of fortune, as only begin- ning, and yet, at the same time drawing to an end.* But the aged emperor was greatly injured by Vinius, not only through his neglect or misappli- cation of things committed to his trust, but by his condemning or defeating the most salutary intentions of his master. This was the case with respect to punishing Nero's ministers. Some bad ones, it is true, were put to death, among whom were Elius, Polycletus, Petinus, and Patrobius. The people expressed their joy by loud plaudits, when these were led through the forum to the place of execution, and called it a glorious and holy procession. But both gods and men, they said, demanded the punishment of Tigellinus, who suggested the very worst measures, and taught Nero all his tyranny. That worthy mio- ister, however, had secured himself by great pre- sents to Vinius, which were only earnests of still greater. Turpilianus, though obnoxious only be- cause he had not betrayed or hated his master, on account of his bad qualities, and though guilty of no remarkable crime, was, notwithstanding, put to death; while the man who had made Nero unfit to live, and, after he had made him such, deserted and betrayed him, lived and flourished: a proof that there was nothing which Vinius would not sell, and that no man had reason to despair who had money. For there was no sight which the people of Rome so passionately longed for, as that of Tigellinus carried to execution; and in the theater and the circus they continually demanded it, until at last the emperor checked them by an edict, importing that Tigellinus was in a deep consumption; which would destroy hirn ere long, and that their sovereign entreated them not to turn his government into a tyranny by needless acts of severity. The people were highly displeased; but the mis- creants only laughed at them. Tigellinus offered sacrifice in acknowledgment to the gods for his recovery, and provided a great entertainment; and Vinius rose from the emperor's table, to go and that when his table, upon nny extraordinary occasion, was more splendidly served than usual, he could not forbeaj sighing, and expressing his dissatisfaction in a manner in- consistent with common decency. * Thus, in the court of Galba appeared all the extortions of Nero's reign. They \vere equally grievous (says Taci- tus) but not equally excused in a prince of Gallm's years and experience. He had himself the greatest integrity of heart; but as the rapacity and other excesses of his minister! were imputed to him, he was no less hated than if he had committed them himself. G ALB A. 66T carouse with Tigellinus, accompanied by his daughter, who was a widow. Tigellinus drank to her, and said, " I will make this cup worth two hundred and fifty thousand drachmas to you." At the same time he ordered his chief mistress to take off her own necklace and give it her. This was said to be worth a hundred and fifty thousand more. From this time, the most moderate of Galba's proceedings was misrepresented.* For instance, his lenity to the Gauls, who had conspired with Vindex, did not escape censure. For it was be- lieved that they had not gained a remission of tribute and the freedom of Rome from the em- peror's indulgence, but that they purchased them of Vinius. Hence the people had a general aver- sion to Galba's administration. As for the sol- diers, though they did not receive what had been promised them, they let it pass, hoping that, if they had not that gratuity, they should certainly have as much as Nero had given them. But when they began to murmur, and their complaints were brought to Galba, he said, what well became a prince, " That it was his custom to choose, not to buy his soldiers." This saying, however, being reported to the troops, filled them with the most deadly and irreconcilable hatred to Galba. For it seemed to them that he not only wanted to de- prive them of the gratuity himself, but to set a precedent for future emperors. The disaffection to the government that pre- vailed in &ome, was as yet kept secret in some measure, partly because some remaining rever- ence for the presence of the emperor prevented the flame of sedition from breaking out, and partly for want of an open occasion to attempt a change. But the troops which had served under Virginius, and were now commanded by Flaccus in Germany, thinking they deserved great things for the battle which they fought with Vindex, and finding that they obtained nothing, began to behave in a very refractory manner, and could not be appeased by their officers. Their general himself, they utterly despised, as well on account of his inactivity (for he had the gout in a violent manner) as his want of experience in military affairs. One day, at some public games, when the tribunes and centurions, according to custom, made vows for the happiness of the emperor, the common soldiers murmured; and when the officers repeated their good wishes, they answered, " If he is worthy." The legions that were under the command of Tigellinus behaved with equal insolence; of which Galba's agents wrote him an account. He was now apprehensive, that it was not only his age, but his want of children, that brought him into contempt; and therefore he formed a design to adopt some young man of noble birth, and declare him his successor. Marcus Otho was of a family by no means obscure; but, at the same time, he was more remarkable from his infancy for luxury and love of pleasure than most of the Roman youth. And, as Homer often calls Paris, the husband of tlie beauteous Helen, because he had nothing else to distinguish him, so Otho was noted in Rome as the husband of Poppaea. This was the lady whom Nero fell in love with while she was wile to Crispinus; but retaining as yet some respect * Though the rest of Galba's conduct was not blameless, yet (according to Suetonius and Zonaras) lie kept the sol- diers to their duly; he punished, with the utmost severity, those who, by their false accusations, had occasioned the dealh of innocent persons; he delivered up to punishment Buch slaves as had borne witness against their masters; and be recalled those who had been banished by Nero under pretense of treason. for his own wife, and some reverence for hi mother, he privately employed Otho to solicit her. For Otho's debauchery had recommended him to Nero as a friend and companion, and he had an agreeable way of rallying him upon what he called his avarice and sordid manner of living. We are told that one day when Nero was per- fuming himself with a very rich essence, he sprinkled a little of it upon Otho. Otho invited the ernperor the day following, when suddenly gold and silver pipes opened on all sides of the apartment, and poured out essences for them in as much plenty as if it had been water. He ap- plied to Popprea according to Nero's desire, and first seduced her for him, with the flattering idea of having an emperor for a lover; after which he persuaded her to leave her husband. But when he took her home as his own wife, he was not so happy in having her, as miserable in the thought of sharing her with another. And Poppaea is said not to have been displeased with this jealousy; for it seems she refused to admit Nero when Otho was absent; whether it was that she studied to keep Nero's appetite from cloying, or whether (as some say) she did not choose to receive the emperor as a husband, but in her wanton way, took more pleasure in having him approach her as a gallant. Otho's life, therefore, was in great danger on account of that marriage; and it ia astonishing, that the man who could sacrifice his wife and sister for the sake of Poppaea, should afterward spare Otho. But Otho had a friend in Seneca; and it was he who persuaded Nero to send him out governor of Lusitania, upon the borders of the ocean. Otho made himself agreeable to the inhabitants by his len- ity; for he knew that this command was given him only as a more honorable exile.* Upon Galba's revolt, he was the first governor of a province that came over to him, and he carried with him all the gold and silver vessels he had, to be melted down and coined for his use. He likewise presented him with such of his servants as knew best how- to wait upon an emperor. He behaved to him, indeed, iu all respects, with great fidelity; and it appeared, from the specimen he gave, that there was no department in the government for which he had not talents. He accompanied him in his whole journey, and was many days in the same carriage with him, during all which time he lost no opportunity to pay his court to Vinius, either by assiduities or presents; and as he always took care to leave him the first place, ho was secure by his means of having the second. Beside that there was nothing invidious in this station, he recommended himself by granting his favors and services without reward, and by his general affa- bility and politeness. He took most pleasure in serving the officers of the army, and obtained gov- ernments for many of them, partly by applications to the emperor, and partly to Vinius aud his freed- men, Icelus and Asiaticus, for these had the chief influence at court. Whenever Galba visited him, he complimented the company of guards that was upon duty, with a piece of gold for each man; thus practicing upon and gaining the soldiers, while he seemed only to be doing honor to their master. When Galba was deiiuerating on the choice of a suc- cessor, Vinius proposed Otho. Nor was this a disinterested overture, for Otho had promised to marry Vinius's daughter, after Galba had adopted him, aud appointed him his successor. But Galba ' On this occasion the following distich was mado : Cor Otho mentito sit quaeritis exul honore; Lxori* mujchus czeperat esse su. 668 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. always showed that he preferred the good of the public to any private considerations: and in this case he sought not for the man who might be most agreeable to himself, hut one who promised to he the greatest blessing to the Romans. In- deed it can hardly be supposed that he would have appointed Otho heir even to his private patrimony, when he knew how expensive and profuse lie was, and that he was loaded with a debt of five millions of drachmas. He there- fore gave Vinius a patient hearing, without re- turning him any answer, and put off the affair to another time. However, as he declared him- self consul, and chose Vinius for his colleague, it was supposed that lie would appoint a successor at the beginning of the next year, and the soldiers wished that Otlio might be the man. But while Galba delayed the appointment, and continued deliberating, the army mutinied in Ger- many. All the troops throughout the empire hated Galba because they had not received the promised donations; hut those in Germany had a particular apology for their aversion. They al- leged, " That. Virginias Rufus, their general, had been removed with ignominy, and that the Gauls who had fought against them, were the only peo- ple that were rewarded; while all who had not joined Vindex were punished, and Galba, as if he had obligations to none but him for the imperial diadem, honored his memory with sacrifices and public libations." Such speeches as this were common in the camp, when the calends of January were at hand, and Flaccus assembled the soldiers, that they might take the customary oath of fealty to the emperor. But, instead of that, they overturned and broke to pieces the statues of Galba, and having taken an oath of allegiance to the senate and people of Rome, they retired to their tents. Their officers were now as apprehensive of anarchy as rebellion, and the following speech is said to have been made on the occasion: " What are we doing, my fellow-soldiers? We neither appoint another emperor nor keep our allegiance to the present, as if we had renounced not only Galba, but every other sovereign, and all manner of obe- dience. It is true, H'ardeonius Flaccus is no more than the shadow of Galba. Let us quit him. But at the distance of one day's march only, there is Vitellius, who commands in the Lower Germany, whose father was censor and thrice consul, and in a manner colleague to the emperor Claudius. And though his poverty may be a circumstance far which some people may de- spise him, it is a strong proof of his probity and greatness of mind. Let us go and declare him emperor, and show the world that we know how to choose a person for that high dignity better tb^an the Spaniards and Lusitanians." Some approved and others rejected this motion. One of the standard-bearers, however, marched off privately, and carried the news to Vitellius that night. He found him at table, for he was giving a great entertainment to his officers. The news soon spread through the army, and Fabius Valens, who commanded one of the legions, went next day at the head of a considerable party of horse, and saluted Vitellius emperor. For some days before, he seemed to dread the weight of sovereign power, and totally to decline it: but now, being fortified with the indulgences of the table, to wiiich he had sat down at mid-day, he went out and accepted the title of Germanicus, which the army conferred upon him, though he refused that of Caesar. Soon after, Flaccus's troops forgot the republican oaths they had taken to the senate and the people, and swore allegiance to Vitellius. Thus Vitellius was proclaimed emperor in Germany. As soon as Galba was informed of the insurrec- tion there, he resolved without further delay, to proceed to the adoption. He knew some of his friends were for Dolabella, and a still greater number for Otho; but without being guided by the judgment of either party, or making the least mention of his design, he sent suddenly for Piso, the son of Crassus, and Scriboiiht, who were put to death by Nero; a young man formed by nature for every virtue, and distinguished for his modesty and sobriety of manners. In pursuance of his in- tentions, he went down with him to the camp, to give him the title of Caesar, and declare him his successor. But he was no sooner out of his palace, than very inauspicious presages appeared. And in the camp, when he delivered a speech to the army, reading some parts and pronouncing others from memory, the many claps of thunder, and flashes of lightning, the violent rain that fell, and the darkness that covered both the camp and the city, plainly announced that the gods did not ad- mit of the adoption, and that the issue would be unfortunate. The countenances of the soldiers too were black and louring, because there was no dona- tion even on that occasion.* As to Piso, all that were present could not but wonder, that so far as they could conjecture from his voice and look, he was not disconce^ed with so great an honor though he did not receive it without sensibility.f On the contrary, in Otho's countenance there appeared strong marks of re- sentment, and of the impatience with which he bore the disappointment of his hopes. For his failing of that honor, which he had been thought worthy to aspire to, and which he lately believed himseff very near attaining, seemed a proof of Galba's hatred and ill-intentions to him. He was not, therefore,withoutapprehensionsof what might befall him afterward; and dreading Galba, execrat- ing Piso, and full of indignation against Vinius, he retired with this confusion of passions in his heart. But the Chaldeans and other diviners, whom he had always about him, would not suffer him entirely to give up his hopes, or abandon his design. In particular he relied on Ptolemy, be- cause he had formerly predicted that he should not fall by the hand of Nero, but survive him, and live to ascend the imperial throne. For, as the former part of the prophesy proved true, he thought he had no reason to despair of the latter, None, however, exasperated him more against Galba than those who condoled with him in pri- vate, and pretended that he had been treated with great, ingratitude. Beside, there was a number of people that had flourished under Tigellinus and Nyinphidius, and now lived in poverty and dis- grace, who, to recommend themselves to Otho, expressed great indignation at the slight he had suffered, and urged him to revenge it. Among these were Veturius, who was optio, or centuri- on's deputy, and Barbius, who was tesserarius, or one of those that carry the word from the tri- bunes to the centurions.^: Onomastus, one of Otho's freedmen, joined them, and went from troop to troop, corrupting some with money, and * Tacitus tells us, that a little exertion of liberality would have gained the army; and that Galba suffered by an un- seasonable attention to the purity of ancient times. t See an excellent speech which Tacitus ascribes ta Galba on this occasion. t The way of setting the nightly guard was by a tessera or tally, with a particular inscription, given from onw cen turion to another, quite through the army, until il cam* again to the tribune who first delivered it. G ALB A. 669 others with promises. Indeed they were corrupt stood before him with drawn swords to defend enough already, and wanted only an opportunity j him. Piso went out to speak to the life-guards, to put their designs in execution. If they had not been extremely disaffected, they could not have been prepared for a revolt in so short a space of time as that of four days, which was all that passed between the adoption and the assassin- ation; for Piso and Galba were both slain the frixth day after, which was the fifteenth of Janu- ary- Early in the morning Galba sacrificed in the palace in presence of his friends. Umbricius, the diviner, no sooner took the entrails in his hands than he declared, not in enigmatical ex- pressions, hut plainly, that there were signs of great troubles and of treason that threatened im- mediate danger to the emperor. Thus Otho was almost delivered up to Galba by the hand of the gods; for he stood behind the emperor, listening with great attention to the observations made by Urnbricius. This put him in great confusion, his fears were discovered by his change of color, when his freedman Onomastus came and told him that the architects were come, and waited for him at his house. This was the signal for Otho's meeting the soldiers. He pretended, therefore, that he had bought an old house, which these architects were to examine, and going down by what is called Tiberius's palace, went to that part of the forum where stands the gilded pillar which terminates all the great roads in Italy.* The soldiers who received him, and saluted him emperor, are said not to have been more than twenty-three. So that, though he had nothing of that dastardly spirit which the delicacy of his constitution and the effeminacy of his life seern- ed to declare; but on the contrary, was firm and resolute in time of danger; yet, on this occasion, he was intimidated and wanted to retire. But the soldiers would not suffer it. They surround- ed the ehairf- with drawn swords, and insisted on his proceeding to the camp. Meantime Othode- eired the bearers to make haste, often declaring that he was a lost man. There were some who overheard him, and they rather wondered at the hardiness of the attempt with so small a party, than disturbed themselves about the consequences. As he was carried through the forurn, about the same number as the first, joined him, and others afterward, by three or four at a time. The whole party then saluted him Cresar, and conducted him to the camp, flourishing their swords before him. Martialis, the tribune who kept guard that day, knowing nothing (as they tell us) of the conspiracy, was surprised and ter- rified at so unexpected a siglit, and suffered them to enter. When Otho was within the camp, he met with no resistance, for the conspirators gath- ered about such as were strangers to the design, and made it their business to explain it to them; upon which they joined them by one or two at a time, first out of fear, and afterward out of choice. The. news was immediately carried to Galba, while the diviner yet attended, and had the en- trails in his hands; so that they \vho had been most incredulous in matters of divination, and even held it in contempt before, were astonished at the divine interposition in the accomplishment of this presage. People of all sorts now crowd- ing from the forum to the palace, Vinius and Laco, with some of the emperor's freedmen, This pillar was set up by Augustus, when he took the high- ways under his inspection, and had the distances of places from Rome marked upon it. and Marius Celsus, a man of great courage and honor, was sent to secure the Illyriau legion, which lay in Vipsanius's portico. Galba was inclined to go out to the people. Vinius endeavored to dissuade him from it; but Celsus and Laco encouraged him to go on, and expressed themselves witli some sharpness against Vinius. Meantime a strong report prevailed that Otho was' slain in the camp; soon after which, Julius Atticus,a soldier of some note among the guards, came up, and crying that he was the man that had killed Caesar's enemy, made his way through the crowd, and showed his bloody sword to Galba. The emperor, fixing his eye upon him, said, "Who gave you orders?" He answered, " My allegiance and the oath I had taken;" and the people expressed their approbation in loud plaudits. Galba then went out in a sedan chair, with a design to sacrifice to Jupiter, and show himself to the people. But he no sooner entered the forum than the rumor changed like the wind, and news met him, that Otho was master of the camp. On this occasion, as it was natural among a multitude of people, some called out to him to advance, and some to retire; some to take cour- age, and some to be cautious. His chair was toss- ed backward and forward, as in a tempest, and ready to be overset, when there appeared first a party of horse, and then another of foot, issuing from the Basilica of Paulus, and crying out, "Away with this private man!" Numbers were then running about, not to separate by flight, but to possess themselves of the porticoes and eminences about the forum, as it were to enjoy some public spectacle. Atilius Virgilio beat down one of Galba's statues, which served as sig- nal for hostilities, and they attacked the chair on all sides with javelins. As those did not uispatch him, they advanced sword in hand. In this time of trial none stood up in his defense but one man, who, indeed, among so many millions, was the only one that did honor to the Roman empire. This was Sempronius Densus,* a centurion, who, without any particular obligations to Galba, and only from a regard to honor and the law, stood forth to defend the chair. First of all he lifted up the vine-branch, with which the centurions chas- tize such as deserve stripes, and then called out to the soldiers who were pressing on, and com- manded them to spare the emperor. They fell upon him, notwithstanding, and he drew his sword and fought a long time, until he received a stroke in the ham, which brought him to the ground. The chair was overturned, at what is called the Curtian lake, and Galba tumbling out of it, they ran to dispatch him. At the same time he presented his throat, and said, " Strike, if it be for the good of Rome." He received many strokes upon his arms and legs, for he had a coat of mail upon his body. According to most ac- counts, it was Camurius, a soldier of the fifteenth legion that dispatched him; though some say it was Terentius, some Arcadius,f and others Fab- ius Fabulus. They add, that when Fabius had cut off his head, he wrapped it up in the skirt of his garment, because it was so bald that he could take no hold of it. His associates, however, In the Greek text it is Indiatrvs; but that text (as w observed before) in the life of Galba, is extremely corrupt. We have therefore given Dcnsus from Tacitus: as firgilio, instead of Sercello, above, t Suetonius says, he got into a woman's sedan, in order j t In Tacitus, Lccanius* That historian makes no men* to be the better concealed. I tion of Fabius. 670 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. would not suffer him to conceal it, but insisted that he should let the world see what an exploit he had performed; he therefore fixed it upon the point of liis spear, and swinging about the heid of a venerable old man, and a mild prince, who was both Pontifex Mazimus and consul, he ran on (like the Bacchanals with tli6 head of Pen- theusj brandishing his spear '.-lat was dyed with the. blood that had trickled t'rorn it. When the head wa>? ^resented to Otho, he cried out, " This is nothing, my fellow-soldiers; show me the head */f Piso." It was brought not long *fter; for that young prince being wounded, and pursued by one Marcus, was killed by him at the gates of the temple of Vesta. Vinius also was put to the sword, though he declared himself an accomplice in the conspiracy, and protested that it was against Otho's orders that he suffered. However, they cut off his head, and that of Laco, and carrying them to Otho, demanded their re- ward: For, as Archilochus says : We bring seven warriors only to your tent, Yet thousands of us killed them. So in this case many who had no share in the ac- tion, bathed their hands and swords in the blood, and showing them to Otho, petitioned for their reward. It appeared afterward, from the peti- tions given in, that the number of them was a hundred and twenty; and Vitellius, having search- ed them out, put them all to death. MariusCel- sus also corning to the camp, many accused him of having exhorted the soldiers to stand by Galba, and the bulk of the army insisted that he should suffer. But Otho being desirous to save him, and yet afraid of contradicting them, told them, "He did not choose to have him executed so soon, be- cause he had several important questions to put to him." He ordered him, therefore, to be kept in chains, and delivered him to persons in whom he could best confide. The senate was immediately assembled; and, as if they were become different men, or had other gods to swear by, they took the oath to Otho, which he had before taken to Galba, but had not kept; and they gave him the titles of Caisar, and Augustus, while the bodies of those that had been beheaded, lay in their consular robes in the forum. As for the heads, the soldiers, after they had no farther nse for them, sold that of Vinius to his daughter for two thousand five hundred drachmas. Piso's was given to his wife Verania, at her request,* and Galba's to the servants of Patrobius and Vitellius,t who, after they had treated it with the utmost insolence and outrage, threw it into a place called Sestertium^ where the bodies of those are cast that are put to death by the emperors. Galba's corpse was carried away by Helvidius Priscus, with Otho's permission, and buried in the night by his freedrnan Argius. Such is the history of Galba; a man who, in the points of family and fortune, distinctly con- sidered, was exceeded by few of the Romans, and who, in the union of both, was superior to all. He had lived, too, in great honor, and with the best reputation, under five emperors; and it was rather by his character than by force of arms that he deposed Nero. As to the rest, who con- spired against the tyrant, some of them were thought unworthy of the imperial diadem by the people, and others thought themselves unworthy. But Galba was invited to accept it, and only fol- lowed the sense of those who called him to that high dignity. Nay, when he gave the sanction of his name to Vindex, that which before was called rebellion was considered only as a civil war, because a man of princely talents was then at the head of it. So that he did not so much want the empire as the empire wanted him: and with these principles he attempted to govern a people corrupted by Tigellinus and Nyrnphidi- us, as Scipio, Fabricius, and Camillus governed the Romans of their times. Notwithstanding his great age, lie showed himself a chief worthy of ancient Rome through all the military depart- ment: but, in the civil administration, he deliv- ered himself up to Vinius, to Laco, and"lo hia enfranchised slaves, who sold everything, in the same manner as Nero had left all to his insatiable vermin. The consequence of this was, that no man regretted him as an emperor, though almost all were moved with pity at his miserable fate. OTHO. THE new emperor went early in the morning to the Capitol, and sacrificed; after which he or- dered Marias Celsus to be brought before him. He received that officer with great marks of his regard, and desired him rather to forget the cause of his confinement than to remember his release. Celsus neither showed any meanness in his ac- knowledgments, nor any want of gratitude. He said, "The very charge brought against him bore witness to his character; since he was accused only of having been faithful to Galba, from whom he had never received any personal obligations." All who were present at the audience admired * Tacitus (lib. i.) says, she purchased it. t Galba had put Patrobins to death; but w know not hy the servants of Vitelhns should desire to treat Galba's remains with any indignity. both the emperor and Celsus, and the soldiers in particular testified their approbation.^ Otho made a mild and gracious speech to the senate. The remaining time of his consulship he divided with Virginius Rufus, and he left those who had been appointed to that dignity by Nero and Galba, to enjoy it in their course. Such as* were respectable for their age and character, he promoted to the priesthood: and to those senators who had been banished by Nero, and recalled by $ Lipsius says, it was so called qua.fi semitertium, as be- ing two miles and a halt' from the city. Otho exempted the soldiers from" the fees which they had paid the centurions for furloughs and other immunities; but at the same time promised to satisfy the centuiions, oo all reasonable occasions, out of his own revenue. In con- sequence of these furloughs, the fourth part of a legir \ was often absent, and the troops became daily more ai 1 i more corrupted. OTHO . 671 Galba, he restored all their goods and estates that ne found unsold. So that the first and best of the citizens, who had before not considered him as a man, but dreaded him as a fury or destroying de- mon that had suddenly seized the seat of govern- ment, now entertained more pleasing hopes from so promising a beginning. But nothing gave the. people in general so high a pleasure,* or contributed so much to gain him their affections, as his punishing Tigellinus. It is true, he had long suffered under the fear of pun- ishment, which the Romans demanded as a public debt, and under a complication of incurable dis- tempers. These, together with his infamous con- nections with the worst of prostitutes, into which his passions drew him, though almost in the arms of death, were considered by the thinking part of mankind as the greatest of punishments, and worse than many deaths.* Yet it was a pain to the common people, that he should see the light of the sun, after so many excellent men had been deprived of it through his means. He was then at his country house near Sinuessa, and had ves- sels at anchor, ready to carry him on occasion to some distant country. Otho sent to him there; and he first attempted to bribe the messenger with large sums to suffer him to escape. When he found that did not take effect, he gave him the money notwithstanding; and desiring only to be indulged a few moments until he had shaved him- self, he took the razor and cut his own throat. Beside this just satisfaction that Otho gave the people, it was a most agreeable circumstance that he remembered none of his private quarrels. To gratify the populace, he suffered them also at first to give him in the theaters the name of Nero, and he made no opposition to those who erected publicly the statues of that emperor. Nay, Claudiusf Rufus tells us that in the letters With which the couriers were sent to Spain, he joined the name of Nero to that of Otho. But perceiving that the nobility were offended, he made use of it no more. After his government was thus established, the praetorian cohorts gave him no small trouble, by exhorting him to beware of many persons of rank, and to forbid them the court; whether it was their affection made them really apprehen- sive for him, or whether it was only a color for raising commotions and wars. One day the em- peror himself had sent Crispiuus orders to bring the seventeenth cohort from Ostia, and in order to do it without interruption, that officer began to prepare for it as soon as it grew dark, and to pack up the arms in wagons. Upon which, some of the most turbulent cried out, that Crispinus was eome with no good intention, that the senate had some design against the government, and that the arms he was going to carry were to be made use of against Caesar, not for him. This notion Boon spread, and exasperated numbers; some laid hold on the wagons, while others killed two cen- turions who endeavored to quell the mutiny, and Crispinus himself. Then the whole party armed, and exhorting each other to go to the emperor's assistance, tiiey marched straight to Rome. Be- ing informed there that eighty senators sup- ped with him that evening, they hastened to the palace saying, Then was the time to crush all Ceesar's enemies at once. The city was greatly alarmed, expecting to be plundered immediately. * In the close of the day on which he was inaugurated, he put Laco and Icelus to death. t This writer, who was a man of consular dignity, and tocceeded Galba in the government of Spain, was not call- ed Claudius but Cluviua Rufus. The palace, too, was in the utmost confusion, and Otho himself in unspeakable distress. For he was under fear and concern for the senators, while they were afraid of him; and he saw they kept their eyes fixed upon him in silence and ex- treme consternation; some having even brought their wives with them to supper. He therefore ordered the principal officers of the guards to go and speak to the soldiers and endeavor to appease them, and at the same time sent out his guests at another door. They had scarce made their escape when the soldiers rushed into the room, and ask- ed what was become of the enemies of Caesar. The emperor then, rising from his couch, ust d many arguments to satisfy them, and by entrea- ties and tears at last prevailed upon them with much difficulty to desist. Next day, having presented the soldiers with twelve hundred and fifty drachmas a man, he en- tered the camp. On this occasion he commend- ed the troops as, in general, well affected to his government; but at the same time he told them, that there were some designing men among them, who by their cabals brought his moderation and their fidelity, both into question: these, he said, de- served their resentment, and he hoped they would assist him in punishing them. They applauded his speech, and desired him to chastise whatever persons he thought proper; but he pitched upon two only for capital punishment, whom no man could possibly regret, and then returned to his palace. Those who had conceived an affection for Otho, and placed a confidence in him, admired this change in his conduct. But others thought it was no more than a piece of policy which the times necessarily required, and that he assumed a popular behavior on account of the impending war. For now he had undoubted intelligence that Vitellius had taken the title of emperor and all the ensigns of supreme power, and couriers daily arrived with news of continual additions to his party. Other messengers also arrived, with accounts that the forces in Panuouia, Dalmatia, and Mysia, with their generals, had declared for Otho. And a few days after, he received obliging letters from Mucianus and Vespasian, who both commanded numerous armies, the one in Syria, and the other in Judcea. Elated with this intelligence, he wrote to Vitel- lius, advising him not to aspire to things above his rank, and promised, in case he desisted, to supply him liberally with money, and gave him a city in which he might spend liis days in pleas- ure and repose. Vitellius at first gave him an answer, in which ridicule was tempered with civ- ility. But afterward, being both thoroughly ex- asperated, they wrote to each other in a style of the bitterest invective. Not that their mutual reproaches were groundless, but it was absurd for the one to insult the other with what might with equal justice be objected to both. For their charges consisted of prodigality, effeminacy, in- capacity for war, their former poverty and im- mense debts: such articles that it is hard to say which of them had the advantage. As to the stories of prodigies and apparitions at that time, many of them were founded upon vague reports that could not be traced to their author. But ^ the Capitol there was a Vic- tory mounted upon a chariot, and numbers of people saw her let the reins fall out of her hands, as if she had lost the power to hold them. And in the island of the Tyber, the statue of Juli- us Ceesar turned from west to east, withon* either earthquake or whirlwind to move it. A 672 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. circumstance which is sain likewise to have hap- pened when Vespasian openly took upon him the direction of affairs. The inundation of the Ty- ber, too, was co&fricfored by the populace as a bad emeu. It was at a time, indeed, when rivers usu- ally overflow their banks; but the flood never rose so high before, nor was so ruinous in its ef- fects; for now it laid great part of the city under water, particularly the corn market, and caused a famine which continued for some days. About this time news was brought that Cecina and Vaiens, who acted for Vitellius, had seized the passes of the Alps. And in Rome, Dolabella, who was of an illustrious family, was suspected by the guards of some disloyal design. Otho, either fearing him, or some other whom he could influence, sent him to Aquinum, with assurances of friendly treatment. When the emperor came to select the officers that were to attend him on his march, he appointed Lucius, the brother of Vitellius, to be of the number, without either promoting or lowering him in point of rank. He took also particular care of the mother and wife of Vitellius, and endeavored to put them in asitu- ation where they had nothing to fear. The gov- ernment of Rome he gave to FlaviusSabinus, the brother of Vespasian; either with an intention to do honor to Nero (for he had formerly given him that appointment, and Galba had deprived him of it), or else to show his affection to Ves- pasian by promoting his brother. Otho himself stopped at Brixi'.lum, a tower ill Italy, near the Po, and ordered the army to march on under the conduct of his lieutenants Marins Celsus, Suetonius Paulinus, Gall us and Spurina, officers of great reputation. But they could not pursue the plan of operations they had formed, by reason of the obstinacy and disorder- ly behavior of the soldiers, who declared that they had made the emperor, and they would be commanded by him only. The enemy's troops were not under much better discipline: they, too, were refractory and disobedient to their officers, and on the same accouzit. Yet they had seen ser- vice, and were accustomed to fatigue: whereas Otho's men had been used to idleness, and their manner of living was quite different from that in the field. Indeed, they had spent most of their time at public spectacles, and the entertainments of the theater, and were come to that degree of insolence, that they did not pretend to be unable to perform the services they were ordered upon, but affected to be above them. Spurina, who at- tempted to use compulsion, was in danger \f being killed by them. They spared no nanner of abuse, calling him traitor, and telling Aim that it was he who ruined the affairs of CID- sar, and purposely missed the fairest opportuni- ties. Some of them came in the night intoxica- ted with liquor to his tent, and demanded their discharge. " For they had to go," they said, " to Gsesar, to accuse him." The cause, however, and Spurina with it, re- ceived some benefit from the insult which these troops met with at Piacentia. Those of Vitellius came up to the walls, and ridiculed Otho's men who were appointed to defend them ; calling them players, and dancers, fit only to attend the Pythian and Olympic games ; fellows who knew nothing of war, who had not even made one campaign, who were swollen up with pride, merely because they had cut off the head of a poor unarmed old man (meaning Galba); wretches that durst not look men in the face, or stand anything like a fair and open battle. They were so cut with these reproaches, and so desirous of revenge, that they threw themselves at Spurina's feet; and beg- ged of him to command and employ them on whatever service he thought proper, assuring him that there was neither danger nor labor which they would decline. After this, the enemy made a vigorous attack upon the town, and plied their battering engines with all their force; but Spu- rina's men repulsed them with great slaughter, and by that means kept possession of one of the most respectable and most flourishing towns in Italy. It must be observed of Otho's officers in general, that they were more obliging in their behavior, both to cities and private persons, than those of Vitellius. Cecina, one of the latter, had nothing popular either in his address or his figure. He was of a gigantic size and most uncouth appearance ; for he wore breeches and long sleeves in the manner of the Gauls, even while his standard was Roman, and whilt\ he gave his instructions to Roman officers. His wife followed him on horseback, in a rich dress, and was attended by a select party of cavalry. Fabius Vaiens, the other general, had a passion for monev, which was not to be satisfied by any plunder from the enemy, or exactions and contributions from the allies. In- somuch that he was believed to proceed more slowly for the sake of collecting gold as he went, and therefore was not up at the first action. Some, indeed, accuse Cecina of hastening to give battle before the arrival of Vaiens, in order that the vic- tory might be all his own ; and, beside other less faults, they charged him not only with attacking at an unseasonable time, but with not maintaining the combat so gallantly as he ought to have done; all which errors nearly ruined the affairs of his party. Cecina, after his repulse at Piacentia, marched against Cremona, another rich and great city. In the meantime, Annius Gallus, who was going to join Spurina at Piacentia, had intelligence by the way that he was victorious, and that the siege was raised. But being informed at the same time, that Cremona was in danger, he led his forces thither, and encamped very near the enemy. Afterward other officers brought in reinforcements. Cecina posted a strong body of infantry under cover of some trees and thickets ; after which, he ordered his cavalry to advance and if the enemy attacked them, to give away by degrees, and retire, until they had drawn them into the ambuscade. But Celsus being informed of his intention by some deserters, advanced with his best cavalry against Cecina's troops ; and, upon their retreating, he pursued with so much cautiou, that he surrounded the corps that lay in ambush. Having thus put them in confusion, he called the legions from the camp : and it appears, that if they had come up in time to support the horse, Cecina's whole army would have been cut in pieces. But, as Paulinus advanced very slowly, lie was censured for having used more precaution than became a general of his character. Nay, the soldiers accused him of treachery, and eu- deavored to incense Otho against him, insisting that the victory was in their hands, and that if ; t was not complete, it was owing entirely to the mismanagement of their generals. Otho did not so much believe these representations, as he was willing to appear not to disbelieve them. He therefore sent his brother Titianus, to the army, Tacitus tells us, that Paulinus was naturally slow and irresolute. On this occasion he charges him with two errors. The fir-t \vri, that, insternl of advancing im- mediately to the charge, ,-inil .supponm:.' his t-avalrv, :ie trilled away the time in filling up the trenches ; the second, that he did not a^ail himself of the disorder ol i t *.i f, but sounded niucn too early a retreat. ivith Proculus, the captain of his guard ; Tilianus had the command in appearance, and Proculus in reality. Celsus and Paulinas had the title of friends and counselors, but not the least authority ia the direction of affairs. The enemy, too, were not without their dis- satisfactions and disorder, particularly among the forces of Valens. For when they were in- formed of what happened at the ambuscade, they expressed their indignation that their genera! did not put it in their power to be there, that they might have used their endeavors to save so ma-ny brave men who psri^hed in that action. They ware even inclined to dispatch him ; but having pacified them with much difficulty, he decamped aud joined Cecina, In the meantime Otho came to the camp at Be- dr'acum, a small town near Cremona, and there held a council of war. Proculus and Titianus were </ opinion, " That he ought to give battle while the army retained those high spirits with which *he late victory had inspired them, and not Bufiei ihat ardor to cool, nor wait until Vitellius came m person from Gaul." But Paulinus was agiinst it. " The enemy," said he, " have receiv- ed all their troops, and have no farther prepara- tions to make for the combat; whereas Otho will have from Mysia and Pannonia, forces as numer- ous as those he has already, if he will wait his own opportunity, instead of giving one to the en- emy. And certainly the army he now has, if with their small numbers, they have so much ardor, will not fight with less, but greater spirit when they see their numbers so much increased. Beside, the gaining of time makes for us, because we have everything in abundance, but delays must greatly distress Cecina and his colleague for necessaries, because they lie in an enemy's country." Marius Celsus supported the opinion of Pau- linus, Annius Gallus coruld not attend, because he had received some hurt by a fall from his horse, and was under cure. Otho, therefore, wrote to him, and Gallus advised him not to precipitate matters, but to wait for the army from Mysia, which was already on the way. Otho, however, would not be guided by these counsels, and the opinion of those prevailed who were for hazard- ing a battle immediately. Different reasons are, indeed, alleged for this resolution. The most probable is, that the praetorian cohorts, which composed the emperor's guards, now coming to taste what real war was, longed to be once more at a distance from it, to return to the ease, the company, and public diversions of Rome; and therefore they could not be restrained in their ea- gerness for a bftttlo, for they imagined that they could overpower the enemy at the first charge. Beside, Otho seems to have been no longer able to support hims'jl/ in a state of suspense; such an aversion to tho thoughts of danger had his dis- sipation and effeminacy given him! Overburden- ed then, by bis cares, he hastened to free him- self from their weight; he covered his eyes, and leaped down the precipice; he committed all at once to fortune. Such is the account given of the master by the orator Secundus, who was Ofho'* secretary. Others say, that the two parties were much in- clined to lay down tV.eir arms, and unite in choos- ing an emperor out of the best generals they had; or, if they could not agree upon it, to leave the election to the senate. Nor is it improbable, as the two who were called emperors, were neither of them men of reputation, that the experienced nd prudent part of the soldiers should form 43 OTHO. 673 a design: for they could not but reflect how un- happy and dreadful a thing it would be to pluujre themselves into the same calamities, which the Romans could not bring upon each other with- oftt aching hearts, in the quarrels of Sylla and Marius, of Cuesar and Pompey: and for what? but to provide an empire to minister to the insa- tiable appetite and the drunkenness of Vitellius, or to the luxury and debaucheries of Otho. These considerations are supposed to have induc- ed Celsus to endeavor to gain time, in hopes that matters might be compromised without the sword; while Otho, out of fear of such an agree- ment, hastened the battle. In the meantime he returned to Brixillum,* which certainly was an additional error; for by that step he deprived the combatants of the rev- erence and emulation which his presence might have inspired, and took a considerable limb from the body of the army, I mean some of the best and most active men, both horse and foot, for his body-guard. There happened about that time a renconter upon the Po, while Cecilia's troops en- deavored to lay a bridge over that river, and Otho's to prevent it. The latter finding their efforts ineffectual, put a quantity of torches, well covered with brimstone and pitch, into some boats, which were carried by the wind and cur- rent upon the enemy's work. First smoke, and afterward a bright flame arose; upon which Cecilia's men were so terrified, that they leaped into the river, overset their boats, and were en- tirely exposed to their enemies, who laughed at their awkward distress. The German troops, however, beat Otho's gladiators in a little island of the Po, and killed a considerable number of them. Otho's army that was in Bedriacum, resenting this affront, in- sisted on being led out to battle. Accordingly Proculus marched, and pitched his camp at the distance of fifty furlongs from Bedriacum. But he chose his ground in a very unskillful manner; for, though it was in the spring season, and the country afforded many springs and rivulets, his army was distressed for water. Next day. Pro- culus was for marching against the enetny,who lay not less than a hundred furlongs off: but Pau- linus would not agree to it. He said, they ought to keep the post they had taken, rather than fa- tigue themselves firsthand then immediately en- gage an enemy, who could arm and put them- selves in order of battle at their leisure, while they were making such a march with all the in- cumbrance of baggage and servants. The gen- erals disputed the point, until a Numidian horse- man came with letters from Otho, ordering them to make no longer delay, but proceed to the at- tack without losing a moment's time. They then decamped of course, and went to seek the enemy. The news of their approach threw Ce- cina into great confusion; and immediately quit- ting his works and post upon the river, he re- paired to the camp, where he found most of the soldiers armed, and the word already given by Valens. During the time when the infantry were form- ing, the best of the cavalry were directed to skirmish. At that momem a report was spread, from what cause we cannot tell, among Otho's van, that Vitellius's officers were coming over to It was debated in council, whether the emperor should be present in the action, or not. Marius Celsus and Pan- linus durst not vote for it, lest they should seem inclined to expose his person. He therefore retired to Brixillam, which was a circumstance that contributed not a little to his ruin. 674 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. their party. As soon, therefore, as they approach- ed, they saluted them in a friendly manner, call- ing them their fellow-soldiers. But instead of receiving the appellation, they answered with a furious and hostile shout. The consequence was, that the persons who made the complaint were dispirited, and the rest suspected them of treason. This was tlie first thing that disconcerted Otho's troops, for hy this time the enemy had charged. Beside, they could preserve no order; the inter- mixture of the baggage, and the nature of the ground, preventing any regular movement. For the ground was so full of ditches and other ine- qualities, that they were forced to break their ranks and wheel about to avoid them, and could only fight in small parties. There were but two legions, one of Vitellius's called the dcvourer, and one of Otho's called the succorer, which could dis- entangle themselves from the defiles and gain the open plain. These engaged in a regular battle, and fought a long time. Otho's men were vig- orous and brave, but they had not seen so much as one action before this; on the other hand, those of Vitellius had much experience in the field, but they were old, and their strength decay- ing. Otho's legion coming on with great fury, mowed down the first ranks, and took the eagle. The enemy, filled with shame and resentment, advanced to chastise them, slew Orphidius, who commanded the legion, and took several standards. Among the gladiators, who had the reputation of being brave fellows, and excellent at close fight- ing, Alphenus Varus brought up the Batavians, /ho come from an island formed by the Rhine, and are the best cavalry in Germany. A few of the gladiators made head against them, but the greatest part fled to the river, and falling in with some of the enemy's infantry that was posted there, were all cut in pieces. But none behaved BO ill that day as the pra3torian bands. They did not even wait to receive the enemy's charge", and in their flight they broke through tbe troops that as yet stood their ground, and put them in disor- der. Nevertheless, many of Otho's men were irresistible in the quarter where they fought, and opened a way through the victorious enemy to their camp. But Proculus and Paulinus took another way; for they dreaded the soldiers, who already blamed their generals for the loss of the day. Annius Gallus received into the city all the scattered parties, and endeavored to encourage them by assurances that the advantage upon the whole was equal, and that their troops had the superiority in many parts of the field. But Ma- rius Celsus assembled the principal officers, and desired them to consider of measures that might save their country. " After such an expense of Roman blood," said he, " Otho himself, if he has a patriotic principle, would not tempt fortune any more; since Cato and Scipio, in refusing to submit to Cresar after the battle of Pharsalia, are accused of having unnecessarily sacrificed the lives of so many brave men in Africa, notwithstanding that they fought for the liberties of their country. Fortune, indeed, is capricious, and all men are liable to suffer by her inconstancy; yet good men have one advantage which she cannot deprive them of, and that is. to avail themselves of their reason in whatever may befall them." These ar- guments prevailed with the officers, and on sound- ing the private men they found them desirous of peace. Titianus himself was of opinion that (hey ought to send ambassadors to treat for a co- alition. In pursuance of which, Celsus and Gal- lus were charged with a commission to Cecina and Valens. As they were upon the road, they met some centurions, who informed them that Vitellius's army was advancing to Bedriacum, and that they were sent before by their generals with proposals for an accommodation. Celsus and Gallus commended their design, and desired them to go back with them to meet Cecinu. When they approached that general's army, Celsus was in great danger: for the cavalry that were beaten in the affair of the ambuscade, hap- pened to be in the van, and they no sooner saw Celsus, than they advanced with loud shouts against him. The centurions, however, put themselves before him, and the other officers called out to them to do him no violence. Cecina himself, when he was informed of the tumult, rode up and quelled it, and after he had made his coirfpliments to Celsus, in a very obliging man- ner, accompanied him to Bedriacum. In the meantime, Titianus repenting that he had sent the ambassadors, placed the most reso- lute of the soldiers again upon the walls, and ex- horted the rest to be assisting. But when Cecina rode up and offered his hand, not a man of them could resist him. Some saluted his men from the walls, and others opened the gates; after which they went out and mixed with the troops that were coming up. Instead of acts of hostility, there was nothing but mutual caresses and other demonstrations of friendship; in consequence of which they all took the oath to Vitellius, and ranged themselves under his banner. This is the account which most of those that were in the battle give of it, but at the same time they confess that they did not know all the particulars, because of the confused manner in which they fought, and the inequality of the ground. Long after, when I was passing over the field of battle, Mestrius Florus, a person of consular dignity, showed me an old man, who in his youth had served under Otho, with others of the same age with himself, not from inclination but by constraint.* He told me also, that on visiting the field after the battle he saw a large pile of dead bodies as high as the head of a man; and upon inquiring into the reason, he could neither discover it himself, nor get any informa- tion about it. It was no wonder that there was a * From this passage Dacier would infer, that the life of Otho was not written by Plutarch. He says, a person who served a young man under Otho, could not he old at the time when Plutarch can he supposed to have visited that field of battle. His argument is this: That battle was fought in the year of Christ, sixty-nine: Plutarch returned from Italy to Cha:ronea about the end of Domitian's rei^n. in the year of Christ ninety-three or ninety-four, and never left his' native city any more. As this retreat of Plutarch's was only twenty-four or twenty-five years after the battle of Bedriacum, he concludes that a person who fought in that battle, a young man, could not possibly be old when Plutarch made the tour of Italy; and therefore conjectures that this, as well as the life of Galha, must have been written by a son of Plutarch. But we think no argument, in a matter of such impor- tance, ought to be adduced from a passage manifestly cor- rupt. For instead of OYT* TTUXXUV, we must either read it x OVTO. TrAXxtzt, or vov / Trihcucv, tv* to make either Greek or sense of it. Lamprias, in the catalogue, ascribes these two lives to his father. Nor do we see such a dissimilarity to Plutarch'* other writings, either in the style or manner, as wairants us to conclude that they are not of his hand. Henry Stevens did not, indeed, take them into his edi. tion, because he found them among the opuscula; and, a some of the opuscula were supposed to be spurious, he be- lieved too hastily that these were of the number. We think the loss of Plutarch's other lives of the empe- rors a real loss to the world, and should have been glad if they had come down to us, even in the same imperfect coo* dition, as to the text, as those of Gaiba and Otho. OTHO 675 great carnage in case of a general rout, because ill a civil war they made no prisoners; for such captives would be of no advantage to the con- querors ; but it is difficult to assign a reason why the carcasses should be piled up in that manner. An uncertain rumor (as it commonly happens) was first brought to Otlio, and afterward some of the wounded came and assured him that the battle was lost. On this occasion it was nothing extra- ordinary that his friends strove to encourage him and keep him from desponding; but the attach- ment of the soldiers to him exceeds all belief. None of them left him, or went over to the ene- my, or consulted his own safety, even when their chief despaired of his. On the contrary, they crowded his gates; they called him ernperor; they left no form of application untried; they kissed his hands, they fell at his feet, and with groans and tears entreated him not to forsake them, nor give up to their enemies, but to employ their hearts and hands to the last moment of their lives. They all joined in this request; and one of the private men, drawing his sword, thus ad- dressed himself to Otho: " Know, Caesar, what your soldiers are ready to do for you," and im- mediately plunged the steel into his heart. Otho was not moved at this affecting scene; but, with a cheerful and steady countenance, looking round upon the company, spoke as follows: "This day, my fellow-soldiers, I consider as a more happy one than that on which you made me emperor, when I see you thus disposed, and am so great in your opinion. But deprive me not of a still greater happiness, that of laying clown my life with honor for so many generous i Romans. If I am worthy of the Roman empire, [ I ought to shed my blood for my country. I know the victory my adversaries have gained is by no means decisive. I have intelligence that my army from Mysia is at the distance of but a few days' march; Asia, Syria, and Egypt, are pouring their legions upon the Adriatic ; the forces in Judrea declare for us; the senate is with us; and the very wives and children of our ene- mies are so many pledges in our hands. But we are not fighting for Italy with Hannibal, or Pyr- rhus, or the Cimbrians; our dispute is with the Romans; and whatever party prevails, whether we conquer or are conquered, our country must suffer. Under the victor's joy she bleeds. Believe, then, my friends, that I can die with greater glory than reign: for I know no benefit that Rome can reap from my victory, equal to what I shall confer upon her by sacrificing myself for peace and unanimity, and to prevent Italy from beholding such another day as this!" After he had made this speech, and showed himself immovable to those who attempted to alter the resolution, he desired his friends and such senators as were present, to leave him, and pro- vide for their own safety. To those that were absent he sent the same commands, and signified his pleasure to the cities by letters, that they should receive them honorably, and supply them with good convoys. He then called his nephew Cocceius,* who was yet very young, and bade him compose himself, and not fear Vitellius. " I have taken the same care," said he, " of his mother, his wife, and children, ajs if they had been my own. And for the same refvson, I mean for your sake, I deferred the adoption which I intended you: for I thought proper to wait the issue of this war, that you *Tacitus and Suetonius call him Cocceiamis. might reign with me if I conquered, and not fall with me if I was overcome. The last thing, my son, I have to recommend to you is. neither en- tirely to forget, nor yet to remember too well, that you had an emperor for your uncle." A moment after he heard a great noise and tu- mult at his gate. The soldiers seeing the senators retiring, threatened to kill them if they moved a step farther or abandoned the emperor. Otho, in great concern for them, showed himself again at the door, but no longer with a mild and suppli- cating air ; on the contrary he cast such a stern and angry look upon the most turbulent part of them, that they withdrew in great fear and confusion. In the evening he was thirsty, and drank a little water. Then he had two swords brought him, and having examined the points of both a longtime, he sent away the one and put the other under his arm. After this he called his servants, and with many expressions of kindness gave them money. Not that he chose to be lavish of what would soon be another's; for he gave to some more, and to some less, proportioning his bounty to their merit, and paying a strict regard to propriety. When he had dismissed them, he dedicated the remainder of the night to repose, and slept so sound that his chamberlains heard him at the door. Early in the morning he called his freed- man, who assisted him in the care of the sena- tors, and ordered him to make the proper inqui- ries about them. The answer he brought was, that they were gone and had been provided with everything they desired. Upon which he said, " Go you, then, and show yourself to the sol- diers, that they may not imagine you have assist- ed me in dispatching myself, and put you to some cruel death for it." As soon as the freedman was gone out, lie fixed the hilt of his sword upon the ground, and hold- ing it with both hands, fell upon it with so much force that he expired with one groan. The ser- vants, who waited without, heard the groan, and burst into a loud lamentation, which was echoed through the camp and the city. The soldiers ran to the gates, with the most pitiable wailings and most unfeigned grief, reproaching themselves for not guarding their emperor, and preventing his dying for thorn. Not one of them would leave him to provide for himself, though the enemy was approaching. They attired the body in a magnificent manner, and prepared a funeral pile; after which they attended the procession in their armor, arid happy was the man that could come to support his bier. Some kneeled and kissed his wound, some grasped his hand, and others pros- trated themselves on the ground, and adored him at a distance. Nay, there were some who threw their torches upon the pile, and then slew them- selves. Not that they had received any extraor- dinary favors from the deceased, or were afraid of suffering under the hands of the conqueror; but it seems that no king or tyrant was ever so passionately fond of governing, as they were of being governed by Otho. Nor did their affection cease with his death; it survived the grave, and terminated in the hatred and destruction of Vi- tellius. Of that we shall give an account in its proper place. After they had interred the remains of Otho, they erected a monument over them, which neither by its size nor by any pomp of epitaph, could excite the least envy. I have seen it al Brixillum; it was very modest, and the inscrip- tion only thus: 676 PLUTARCH'S LIVES. To the Memory of MARCUS OTHO. Otho died at the age of thirty-seven, having reigned only three months. Those who find fault with his life, are not more respectable, either for their numbers or for their rank, than those who applaud his death: for, though his life was not much better than that of Nero, yet his death was nobler. The soldiers were extremely incensed against Pollio, one of the principal officers of the guards, for persuading them to take the oath immediately to Vitellius; and being informed, that there were ftill some senators on the spot, they let the others pass, but solicited Virginius Rufus in a very troublesome manner. They went in arms to his house, and insisted that he should take the impe- rial title, or at least be their mediator with the conqueror. But he who had refused to accept that title from them when they were victorious, thought it would be the greatest madness to em- brace it after they were beaten. And he was afraid of applying to the Germans in their behalf, because he had obliged that people to do many things contrary to their inclinations. He there- fore went out privately at another door. When the soldiers found that he had left them, they took the oath to Vitellius, and having obtained their pardon, were enrolled among the troops of Cecrna. END OF THE LIVES. ACCOUNT OF WEIGHTS, MEASURES AND DENOMINATIONS OF MONEY, MENTIONED BY PLUTARCH. From the Tables of Dr. Arbuthnot. WEIGHTS. Ib. oz. p.wt. gr. The Roman libra or pound 00 10 18 13 5-7th* The Attic mina or pound 00 11 7 16 2-7ths The Attic talent equal to sixty miiiee 56 11 17 l-4th. DRY MEASURES OF CAPACITY. peck. gal. pints. The Roman modius 1 02-9 The Attic choenix, one pint, 15,705 3-8 solid inches 11-2 nearly The Attic medimnus.... ...4 61-10 LIQUID MEASURES OF CAPACITY. pint, solid inch. The cotyle U 2,141> Thecyathus 1}| 0,356 11-12 ths The chus 6 25,698 MEASURES OF LENGTH. Eng. paces, ft. m. The Roman foot 11 3-5ths. The Roman cubit 1 5 2-3ds The Roman pace 4 10 The Roman furlong 120 4 4 The Roman mile : 967 The Grecian cubit 1 6 l-8th. The Grecian furlong 100 4 4 l-5th. The Grecian mile 805 5 N. B. In this computation the English pace is five feet MONEY. $ c. m. The quadrans, about 1.1 The as 1 .3 The Sestertius 3.5.8 The sestertium equal to 1000 sestertii 35.87.9.6 The denarius 14.3.5 The Attic obolus 2.3.9 The drachma 1 4.3.5 The mina = 100 drachma? 14.35.1.8 The talent = 60 minffi 861.1 1.1.1 The stater-aureus of the Greeks weighing two Attic drachms 3.58.7.9 The stater-daricus 7.16.6.6 The Roman aureus was of different value at different periods. According to the proportion} 3 59 7 g mentioned by Tacitus, when it exchanged for 25 denarii, it was of the same value asj> the Grecian stater. (677 ) A CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE FROM DACIER AND OTHER WRITERS. Years before the first Olympiad. 737 DEUCALION'S deluge 761 627 Minos [. son of Jupiter and Europa, 651 486 Minos II. grandson of the first, 500 THESEUS 454 The expedition of the Argonauts. Theseus attended Jason in it, 473 406 Troy taken. Demophoon, the son of Theseus, was at the siege 430 327 The return of the Heraclidone to Peloponnesus, 351 294 The first war of the Athenians against Sparta, 318 Codrus devote? himself. 288 The Helots subdued by Agis, 304 The Ionic migration, 990 129 Lycurgus flourishes, 153 Olympiads. THE FIRST OLYMPIAD. 25 I. Year; ROMULUS. of Rome vii. 1. Rome built vii. 4. The rape of the Sabine virgins, 4 xvi. 1. The Death of Romulus, 38 NUMA. xvi. 3. Numa elected king xxvii. 2. d SOLON xlv. 1. Solon flourishes 153 Cylon's conspiracy,., xlvi. 1. Epimenides goes to Athens and expiates the city. He dies soon after at the age of 157 154. The seven wise men: JEsop and Anacharsis flourish, xlvi. 3. Solon Archon, 159 Cro3sus, king of Lydia. 1. 1. Pythagoras goes into Italy, 173 Pisistratus sets up his tyranny Iv. 2. Cyrns, king of Persia, 194 Ivii. 4. Croesus taken, 204 PUBLICOLA Ixviii. 1 Is chosen consul in the room of Collatinus, 245 Brutus fights Aruns, the eldest son of Tarquin. Both are killed. Ixviii, 3. Publicola, consul the third time. His colleague, Horatius Pulvillns, dedicates the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, 247 Horatius Codes defends the Sublician bridge against the Tuscans. Nix 3. Publicola dies, 251 Zeno Eleates flourished, . Ixxii. 1. The battle of Marathon CORIOLANUS Ixxii 2. Is banished and retires to the Volsci, 263 Ixxiii. 1. Herodotus U born, 265 Ixxiii. 2. Coriolanus besieges Rome : but being prevailed upon by his mother to retire, i stoned to death by the Volsci ARISTIDES Ixxiv. 2. Is banished for ten years, but recalled at the expiration of three, 270 THEMISTOCLES. Ixxv. 1. The battle of Salamis, 273 lvxv.2. The battleof Plataa 274 Ixxvi. 1. Thucydides jg born 277 Ixxvii. 2. Theraistocles is banished by the Ostracism, 282 CIMON Ixxvii. 3. Beats the Persians both at sea and land, Ixxvii. 4. Socrates is born. He lived 71 years, 284 Ixxxii. 3. Cimon dies. Ahibiades born the same year. Herodotus and Thucydide* flourish the latter is twelve or thirteen years younger than the former, 303 - 1 Pindar dies, eighty years old, (678) Years before the build- ing of Rome. Years before Christ A CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. 679 'ears f the vorld . Olympiads. PERICLES Stirs up the Peloponnesian war, which lasts 27 years. He was very young when the Romans sent the Decemviri to Athens for Solon's laws. Pericles dies, Years Years of before Rome. Christ. 3519 3521 3522 3535 3537 3538 3539 xxxvii. 2. Ixxxvii. 4. Ixxxviii. 1. xci. 2. xci. 4. xcii. 1. xcii.2. 322 324 325 338 340 342 429 427 426 413 411 407 406 403 401 402 399 398 395 394 Xerxes killed by Artabanus, NICIAS. The Athenians undertake the Sicilian war, ALC1BIADES Takes refuge at Sparta, and afterward among the Persians. 3545 xciii. 4. LYSANDER Puts an end to the Peloponnesian war, and establishes the thirty tyrants at Athens, 348 349 352 353 356 357 3546 3549 3550 3553 3554 3555 3561 3562 3566 3569 3574 3579 3580 3582 3584 3585 3586 3587 3588 3589 3593 3594 3596 3598 3602 36U5 3607 3609 3612 3613 3614 3616 3619 3623 3627 xciv. 1. xciv. 4. xcv. 1. xcv. 4. xcvi. 1. xovi. 2. xcvii. 4. xcviii. 1. xcix. 1. xcix. 4. ci. 1. cii. -2. cii. 3. ciii. 4. ciii. 3. ciii. 1. civ. 1. civ. 2. civ. 3. civ. 4. cv. 4. cvi. 1. cvi. 3. cvii. 1. cviii. 1. cviii. 4. cix. 2. cix. 4. ex. 3. ex. 4. cxi. 1. cxi. 3. cxii.2. cxiii. 2. cxiv. 1. ARTAXERXES MNEMON Overthrows his brother Cyrus in a great battle. The retreat of the ten thousand Greeks, conducted by Xenophon. Socrates dies, .... .. AGESILAUS Agesilaus defeats the Persian cavalry. Lysander dies. The Romans lose the battle ofAllia, .. ...... 364 365 369 372 377 382 383 385 387 388 387 386 382 379 374 369 368 366 364 363 361 360 359 355 354 352 350 346 343 341 339 336 335 334 332 325 325 321 319 CAMILLUS The important battle of Leuctra. PELOPIDAS, General of the Thebans. He headed the sacred band the year before at Leuctra, whore Epaminondas commanded in chief. TIMOLEON Kills his brother Timophanes, who was setting himself up tyrant in Cornith, Pelopidas defeats Alexander the tyrant of Pherae, but falls in the battle,. The famous battle of Mantinea, in which Epaminondas, though victorious, is killed by the son of Xenophon. 390 391 392 396 397 399 401 405 408 410 412 415 416 417 419 422 426 430 ! -1 DION Alexander the Great born, DEMOSTHENES Xenophon dies, aged 90, Plato dies, aged 80 or 81, Timoleon sent to assist the Syracusans, The battle of Cheronrea, in which Philip beats the Athenians and Thebans ALEXANDER THE GREAT Is declared general of all Greece against the Persians, upon the death of his father Philip, iThe battle of the Granicus, Diogenes dies, aged 90, Aristotle dies, aged 63, 1 680 A CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE Years of the world. Olympiads. 3632 i cxv 3. 3634 cxvi. 1. 3636 3C43 cxvi.4. cxviii. 2. 3670 3085 3696 cxxv. 1. cxxviii. 4. cxxxi. 3. 3B99 cxxxii. 1. 3723 cxxxviii. 2. 3727 cxxxix. 2. 3731 3733 3734 3736 3738 3741 3747 3749 cxl. 2. cxl. 4. cxil. 1. cxli. 3. cxlii. 1. cxlii. 4. cxliv. 2. cxliv. 4. 3752 cxlv. 3. 3754 cxlvi. 1. 3755 3766 3767 cxlvi. 2. cxlix. 1. cxlix. 2. 3782 cliii. I. 3790 3794 3801 civ. 1. clvi. 1. clvii. 4. 3804 clviii. 3. 2827 clxiv. 2. 3843 clxviii. 2. 3844 3846 3850 clxviii. 3. clxix. 1. clxxi. 2. 3855 clxxi. 2. PHOCION letires to Polyperchon, but is delivered up by him to the Athenians, who put him to ieath. EUMENES, iVbo had attained to a considerable rnnk among the successors of Alexander the Great, is betrayed to Antigonus and put to death. DEMETRIUS, Surnamed Poliorcetes, permitted by his father Antigonus to command the army in Syria, when only twenty-two years of age. He restores the Athenians to their liberty, but they choose to remain in the worst chains, those of servility and meanness. Dionysius, the tyrant, dies at Heraclea, aged 55. n the year before Christ 288, died Theophrastus, aged 85. And in the year before Christ 285, Theocritus flourished. PYRRHUS, ing of Epirus, passes over into Italy, where he is defeated by Leevinns, The first Punic war, which lasted 24 years, hilopcemen born, Years of Rome. Year* >efore 'hrist. ARATUS, )f Sicyon, delivered his native city from the tyranny of Nicocle*, AGIS AND CLEOMENES, ^temporaries with Arat.us, for Aratns being beaten by Cleomenes, calls in Antigo- nus from Macedonia, which proves the ruin of Greece. PHILOPCEMEN Thirty years old when Cleomenes took Megalopolis. About this time lived Hanni- bal, Marcellus, Fabius Maximus, and Scipio Africanns. The second Punic war, which lasted eighteen years, iannibal beats the consul Flaminius at the Thrasymenean lake, A.nd the consuls Varro and ^Kmilius at Cannae, Ie is beaten by Marcellus at Nola, Vlarcellus takes Syracuse, Fabius Maximus seizes Tarentum, Fabius Maximus dies, Scipio triumphs for his conquests in Africa, TITUS QUINCTIUS FLAMINIUS Elected consul at the age of 30, CATO THE CENSOR Was 21 or 22 years old when Fabius Maximus took Tarentum. See above. All Greece restored to her liberty, by T. O,. Flaminius, Flaminius triumphs; Demetrius, the son of Philip, and Nabis, the tyrant of Lace- damion, follow his chariot. 2ato triumphs for his conquests in Spain, Scipio Africanns dies, Philopoemen dies, The same year PAULUS ^MILIUS, Then first consul, was beaten by Hannibal at Cannae. When consul the second time, he conquered Persius, and brought him in cbains to Rome. Now Terence flourished, Paulus ^Emilius dies, Marius born, The third Punic war, which continued four years, Uato the Censor dies. Scipio ^Emilianus destroys Carthage; and Mummias sacks and burns Corinth, Carneades dies, aged 85, Polybius dies, aged 81, TIBERIUS AND CAIUS GRACCHUS. The laws of Cains Gracchus,.., MARIUS Marches against Jngurtha Cicero born. Pompey born, Marius, now consul the second time, marches against the Cimbri Julius Ca;sar is born in the sixth consulship of Marius, Lucretius born, SYLLA, After his preetorship, sent into Cappadocia, .... 435 437 439 446 473 488 502 526 530 534 5:16 537 5H9 541 544 550 552 555 557 558 569 570 585 593 597 604 607 646 647 649 653 658 93 A CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. b81 Olympiads. clxxiii. 1. clxxiii. 2. clxxiv. 2. clxxiv. 3. clxxiv. 4. clxxv. 1 clxxv. 2. clxxvi. 1. clxxvi. 4. clxxvii.2. clxxvii. 4. clxxix.2. clxxx. 2. clxxxi. 4. clxxxiii.l. clxxxiii. 2. clxxxiii.3. clxxxiii. 4. clxxxiv. 1. clxxxiv. 2. clxxxiv. 3. clxxxiv. 4. clxxxv. 1. clxxxvii. 1. clxxxvii. 3, clxxxvii. 4. cxciv. 2. ccii. 4. cciii. 1. ccxi. 4. Makes himself master of Rome, Takes Athens, Marius dies the same year. ccxii. 1. SYLLA Years Years of before Rome. Christ 605 SERTORIUS Bent into Spain, The younger Marius beaten by Sylla; yet soon after he defeats Pontius Telesinus at the gates of Rome. Sylla enters the city, and being declared dictator, exercises all manner of cruelties. CRASSUS Enriches himself with buying the estates of persons proscribed. POMPEY, At the age of 25, is sent into Africa against Domilius, and beats him, CATO OF UTICA Was younger than Pompey; for he was but fourteen years old when Sylla's pro scriptioris were in their utmost rage. CICERO Defends Roscins against the practices of Sylla. This was his first public pleading After this he tetires to Athens to finish his studies. 3ylla, after having destroyed above 100,000 Roman citizens, proscribed 00 senators and 2,600 knights, resigns his dictatorship, and dies the year following. Pompey manages the war in Spain against Sertdrins, , LUCULLUS, After his consulship, is sent against Mithridates, Sertorius assassinated in Spain. Crassus Consul with Pompey, Tigranes conquered by Lucullus, Mithridates dies. Pompey forces the temple of Jerusalem. Augustus Casarbom,. JULIUS CAESAR Appointed consul with Bibulus, obtains Illyria, and the two Gauls, with four legions He marries his daughter Julia to Pompey. Crassus is taken by the Parthians and slain, Caesar defeats Pompey at Pharsalia, Pompey flies into Egypt, and is assassinated there. Caisar makes himself master of Alexandria, and subdues Egypt; after which he marches into Syria, and soon reduces Pharnaces. He conquers Juba, Scipio, and Petreius, in Africa, and leads up four triumphs. Previous to which, Cato kills himself. CfEsar defeats the sons of Pompey at Munda. Cneius falls in the action, and Sex- tus flies into Sicily. Ciesar triumphs the fifth time. BRUTUS. Caesar is killed by Brutus and Cassit Brutus passes into Macedonia MARK ANTONY Beaten the same year by Augustus at Modena. He retires to Lepidus. The tri- umvirate of Augustus, Lepidns, and Antony, who divide the empire among them. The battle of Philippi, in which Brutus and Cassius being overthrown by Augustus and Antony, lay violent hands on themselves. Antony leagues with Sextus the son of Pompey against Augustus, Augustus and Antony renew their friendship after the death of Fulvia, and Antony marries Octavia. Augustus and Antony again embroiled, The'battle of Actium. Antony is beaten, and flies into Egypt with Cleopatra, Augustus makes himself master of Alexandria. Antony and Cleopatra destroy themselves. GALBA Born. Otho born, Galba appointed consul, The revolt of Vindex Nero killed, and Galba declared Emperor, OTHO, Revolts, and persuades the soldiers to dispatch Galba; upon which he is proclaimed emperor; and three months after, being defeated by Yitellius, dispatches hiinseif. GTO 671 672 673 674 677 684 694 700 705 706 707 709 710 712 713 721 ~oo 723 750 784 785 820 INDEX. ACILEANS, their noble method of testifying their gratitude to the Romans, 260. ADONIS, feast of, 151. ADULTERY unknown at Sparta, 52. , office of, its nature, 279. FAMILY, its antiquity. 18G. PAULUS is madesedile, ib.; his discipline, ib.; subdues Spain, ib.; and the Ligurians, 187; is appointed to conduct the war against Perseus, 189; whom he defeats, 193; his disinter- estedness, 195; his death, and public funeral, 199. Msor meets Solon at the court of CHESUS, 82. AGESILAUS declared king of Sparta, by the influ- ence of Lysander, 300; appointed to command the Lacedaemonian expedition into Asia, 392; from which he is recalled, 395; to conduct the expedition against the Thetmns, whom he de- feats, 397; but is subsequently defeated by them, 401; they attack Lacedaemon itself, but retire without taking it, 403; his treachery to- ward Tachos, king of Egypt, 404; his death, 405. AGIS. his general character, 514; his efforts to re- form his country, 515, 516; commands the Spar- tan army, 517; is seized by Leonidas, impris- oned, 519; and murdered, together with his mother and grandmother, ib. AGRICULTURE, advantages of, 249. ALBAN LAKE, prophesy respecting, 106. ALBINUS, piety of, 112. ALCANDER assaults Lycurgus, 50; is won upon by the kindness of Lycurgus, ib. ALCIBIADES, contracts a friendship with Socrates, 146; his kindness to a stranger, ib.; gains the prizes at the Olympic games, 148; stratagem of, 149; his dissoluteness and extravagance, ib.; is accused of impiety, 152; returns to Athens, where lie is joyfully received, 157; his death, 159. ALEXANDER the Great receives the Persian ambas- sadors, when a youth, in the absence of his father, 435; his courage, 436; quarrels with his father, 437; whom he soon succeeds, ib.; lie takes Thebes, 438; his noble conduct to Timoclea, ib.; defeats the Persians, 439; his illness, 440; defeats Darius, 441; his honorable conduct to the mother, wife, and daughter of Darius, 441 445; his temperance, 446; de- feats Darius a second time, 447; orders funeral honors to be paid to the body of Darius, 451; marries Roxana, ib.; puts his old counselor, Parmenio, to death, 452; kills Clitus, 453; con- quers Porus, 456; curious conference with the Gymnosophi.sts, 457; marries Statira, the daugh- ter of Darius, 459; his death, 460; and char- acter, 461. AMMONIUS, preceptor to Plutarch, anecdote of, xiii. AMULIUS dispossesses Numitor of the kingdom of Alba, 32; orders the destruction of his nephews, ib. ANARCHY, the precursor of tyranny, 507. ANAXAGORAS, his praise, 121; is accused, and flies from Athens, 131; first taught the Athenians how the. moon becomes eclipsed, 355. ANCILIA, bucklers, why so called, 65. ANTIOCHUS marries Stratonice, 581. ANTONY, his generosity, 586; his humane con- duct to Archelaus, ib.; connects himself with the fortunes of Cassar, 587; to whom he carries assistance, ib ; his vicious conduct, 5b8; pro- nounces the funeral oration over Caesar's body, . 589; unites with Octavius Cresar and Lepidus, 590; his brutal exultation over Cicero, ib.; de- feats Cassius, 591; his luxury, 592; connects himself with Cleopatra, ib.; is defeated by the Parthians, 596; withdraws from their country, 598; treats his wife Octavia with great neglect, 599; his difference with Caesar, ib.; gives him- self up entirely to Cleopatra, 600; his forces, ib.; engages with Caesar's fleet, 601; and is defeated, ib.; his army goes over to Caesar, 603; he returns to Cleopatra, 604; they both offer to submit to Caesar, who rejects their proposal, ib.; he stabs himself, 605; is buried by Cleopatra. 606. AQUILII conspire with the Vitellii to reinstate Tarquin, 85; and are discovered and punished, 86. ARATUS raises the Achreaus to dignity and power, 250; takes Corinth by stratagem, 653; is de- serted by the Achoeans, 657; his various for- tune, 658; his death, 662. ARCHIDAMIA, heroic conduct of, 274. ARCHIMEDES, his skill in mechanics, 216; he de- fends Syracuse, ib. ; is killed, 218. ARCHOM, office of, 78. AREOPAGUS, council of, instituted, ib. ARIADNE instructs Theseus to pass through the Labyrinth, 25. ARIAMNES, an artful Arabian chief, deceives Cras- sus, 366. ARISTIDES opposes Themistocles, 94; is banished, 95; recalled, 98; his sense of justice, 228; why called "THE JUST," 227; his voluntary poverty, 234; death, 235. ARISTION, his vices and profligacies, 309. ARISTOTLE the philosopher, preceptor to Alexan- der, 436. ARTAXERXES succeeds his father, 638; becomes popular, ib.; his brother Cyrus revolts, ib.; whom he engages, 639; and defeats, ib.; loses his wife Statira, by poison, administered by Parysatis, whom he banishes to Babylon, 643; his weakness and vice, 644; his cruelties, 64.V conspiracy of his eldest son and several nobles, 646. ARTS, the fine, unknown at Rome before the capture of Syracuse by Marcdlus, 219. ARUNS, the son of Tarquin, killed by Brutus, 87 As, Roman coin, value of, 109. Asi'AsiA,her talents, 128; captivates Pericles, f b.; accused and acquitted through the influence of Pericles, 131. ATEIUS opposes the departure of Crassus from Rome. 364. C682) INDEX. 683 ATHENS, settlement of, by Theseus, 27; forsaken by its inhabitants, 97 ; rebuilt by Themisto- cles, 98; adorned by Pericles, 124; taken by Lysander, 297; and by Sylla, after suffering famine iind distress, 308. BANDIUS, hie bravery, 214; espouses the cause of Hannibal, 215; from which he is detached by the kindness of Marcel I us, t'6. BARATHRUM, a place of punishment, 225. BARLEY, the substitution of, for wheat, a punish- ment, 221. BASTARDS excused by the laws of Solon from re* lieving their fathers, 80; who were deemed such at Athens, 94; laws of Pericles concern- ing, 133. BASTARN^E, a people of Gaul, 189. BESSUS seizes the person of Darius, 450; his pun- ishment by Alexander for his perfidy, ib. BOAT, punishment of the, its dreadful nature, 642. BONA DEA, ceremonies observed at her festival, 464. BRENNUS, king of the Gauls, 110; defeats the Ro- mans, 111; takes Rome, 112. BROTH, a favorite dish among the Lacedemonians, 51. BRUTUS, the first Roman consul, 84; condemns his own sons to death, 86; engages Aruns, and is killed, 87. , Marcus, accompanies Cato to Cyprus, 623; joins Pornpey's party against Caesar, ib.; is reconciled to Cffisar, 624; but, offended at Caesar's usurpation, he joins Cassius in con- spiring his death, 625; assassinates Csesar, 627; kills Theodotus, the author of Pornpey's death, 631; his dream, ib.; is defeated at Philippi, 635; his death, 636. BUCEPHALUS, the horse, its value and properties, 435; its death, 456. BULL, Marathonian, taken by Theseus, 24. BURIALS, regulations concerning, by Lycurgus, 56. CABIRI, mysteries of, 332. CAESAR leaves Rome through fear of Sylla, and is taken by the pirates, 462; from whom he ob- tains his freedom by ransom, ib.; his eloquence, ib.; the tendency of his conduct to tyranny foretold by Cicero, ib.; is elected pontiff, 463*; suspected of supporting Catiline's conspiracy, ib.; occasion of his divorcing Pornpeia, 464; re- conciles Pompey and Crassus, 465; with whom he unites, ib.; and by their interest is appointed consul, ib.; his success as a general, 466; affec- tion of his soldiers, ib.; various traits of his char- acter, ib.; defeats the Germans, 467; and the Nervii, 468; his expedition into Britain, 469; de- feats theGauis, 470; beginning of his dissensions with Pompey, ib.; passes the Rubicon on his way to Rome, 471; which he enters, 472; his heroic conduct during a storm at sea, 473; de- feats Pompey at the battle of Pharsalia, 475; puts Achillas and Photinus, the assassins of Pompey, to death, 476; his connection with Cleopatra, ib.; his sententious mode, of an- nouncing a victory, ib.; defeats Juba, king of Nurnidia, 477; is elected consul a fourth time, 478; and assumes absolute power at Rome, ib.; corrects the errors of the calendar, 479; is as- sassinated in the senate-house, 481; his charac- ter, 482. CALENDAR reformed by Numa, 67. CALLIAS, his treachery, 227. CALLISTHENES becomes disagreeable to the court of Alexander, 454; his death, ib. GAMILLUS, fortitude of, 105; various regulations of, lOlj; takes the city of Veii, 107; honorable conduct of, toward the city of Falerii, 108; ex- iles himself from Rome, 109; delivers Rome from Brennus, 114; made military tribune a sixth time, 117; defeats the Volsci, ib.; ap- pointed dictator the fifth time, 118; defeats the Gauls a second time, 119. CANDIDATES to appear ungirt and in loose gar- ments, 163. CANNAE, battle of, 139. CAPITOL, how saved from Brennus, 113. CASSANDER, Alexander's treatment of him, 460. CASSIUS joins Brutus in assassinating Ceesar. 625; unites in opposing Antony and Octavius, 629; is killed at the battle of Philippi, 633. CATILINE'S conspiracy, 500; is detected by Cice- ro, 557; his punishment and overthrow, 560. CATO the Censor, his manner of life, 237; his ungenerous sentiments as to the bonds between man and man, 238; his temperance, ib.; con- ducts the war in Spain prosperously, 239; is honored with a triumph, 240; his vain glory, 241; severity against luxury, 242; domestic management, 243; his enmity to philosophy and physicians, 244; marries a young woman, ib.; his opposition to Carthage, 245; his death, 246. CATO the Younger, his general character, 494; his early promise of future honor, ib ; his affection for his brother, ib.; first attempt at oratory, 495; his mode of life, ib.; his influ- ence on the army, 496; his manner of travel- ing, ib.; is greatly honored by Pompey, ib.; as quaestor, he reforms many abuses, ib. ; like- wise as tribune also, 499; his family trials, 500; opposes Metellus, 501; refuses the alli- ance of Pompey, 502; opposes Caesar and Pom- pey, 503; his scrupulous and just conduct in reference to the treasures taken at Cyprus, 504; remonstrates with Pompey, 505; whom he afterward supports, 507; is refused the con- sulship, ib.; joins the forces of Pompey, 506; at whose death he goes into Africa, 509; his conduct at Utica, 510; his heroic death by suicide, 513; is deeply lamented at Utica, ib. CELERES, etymology of, 42. CELIBACY, deemed disgraceful at Sparta, 52. CENSORS, authority of, 241 ; their duties, 198. CEREMONIES, religious, why so called, 115. CETHEGUS detected by Cicero, as one of the ac- complices of Cutiline, 558. CHABRIAS initiates Phocion in the art of war, 484. CHANCE and fortune, difference of, 184. CHARIOT with fine white horses, sacred to the Gods, 107. CHARON the Theban unites with Pelopidas to de- liver his country from tyranny, 202; intrepid- ity, i6. CHELONIS, daughter of Leonidas, 518; her virtu- ous attachment to her husband in his misfor- tunes, ib. CHERONEA, a town of Boeotia, the birth-place of Plutarch, xiii.; character of its inhabitants, t'6. CHILDREN, deformed and weakly ones put to death at Sparta, 52; propagation of children the only end of marriage among the Spartans, CICERO, his early promise of future greatness, 554; undertakes the defense of Roscius against Sylla, ib.; receives the commendation of Apol- lonins for his oratory, 555; prosecutes Verres, 556; his integrity as a judge,557; detects Cat- iline's conspiracy, ib.; and is invested with ab- solute power, 558; punishes the conspirators, 560; he first perceives Caesar's aim at arbitra- ry power, 462; but refuses to take any part in 684 'INDEX. the war between him and Pompey, 565; divor- ces his wife Terentia, 566; takes part with Oc- tavius Ccesar, 567; by whom he is abandoned, 568; his assassination, ib.; his commendation by Octavius Caesar, ib. CIMBRI, whence they came, 281; their character, ib.; defeat Catulus, the Roman consul, 235; are defeated by Marius, 286. CIMON is accused and banished by Pericles, 123; his general character, 321 ; liberality, 324; de- feats the Persians by land and sea in one day, ib.; his death, 123. CINEAS, his prudent advice and useless remon- strance with Pyrrhus, 268. CINNA seek's Pompey's life, and is put to death, 406. CISSUSA, the fountain of, the bathing-place of Bac- chus, 302. CLAUDIUS, Appius, his patriotic and noble advice to the Romans, 270. CLEOMENES marries Agiatis, widow of Agis, 520; kills all the ephori, 522; excuses himself, ib.; his general conduct, 523; defeats the Achaeans, ib.; but becomes unsuccessful in turn, 525: death of his wife, 526; is defeated by the Achee- ans at the battie of Sellasia, 528; seeks protec- tion from Ptolemy, king of Egypt, ib.; is be- trayed, and makes his escape, 530; is pursued, and kills himself, ib. CLEON, the rival of Nicias, 348. CLEOPATRA, her blandishments, 592; her magnifi- cence, ib.; her wit and learning, ib.; her in- fluence over Antony, 599; their total ruin, 604; her . interview with Caasar; 606; her death, 607; and burial, ib. CLITUS, the friend of Alexander, put to death by the king, when intoxicated, 453. CLODIUS, his infamous character, 464; is killed by Mile, 564. Publius, exhorts the troops of Lucullus to mutiny, 34. CL^LIA, anecdote of, 90. COCLES, Horatius, saves Rome by his valor, 89. COLLATINUS, one of the first consuls, 84; is sus- pected and banished from Rome, 86. COMPARISON of Romulus with Theseus, 44; Numa with Lycurgus, 70; Solon with Publicola, 92; Pericles wifli Fabius Maximus, 144; Alcibia- des with Coriolanus, 172 ; Timoleon with yEmilius, 199; Pelopidas with Marcellus, 223; Aristides with Cato/246; Flaminius with Phil- opoemen, 26J; Lysander with Sylla, 318; Ci- mon with Lucullus, 344; Nicias with Crassus, 372; Sertorius with Eumenes, 390; Agesilaus with Pompey, 432; Agis and Cleomenes with Tiberius and Caius Gracchus, 543; Demosthe- nes and Cicero, 569; Demetrius and Antony, 608; Dion with Brutus, 636. CONCORD, temple of, occasion of its being built, 119. CONSCIENCE, no distinction between a private and a political one, 324. CONSULS, why so called, 36; Brutus and Collatinus the first, 84; Lucius Sextus the first plebeian consul, 119. CORNELIA, the mother of the Gracchi, her mag- nanimity, 542. CRASSUS, his general character, 358 371; be- comes the possessor of great part of Rome, 358; leaves Rome in consequence of Marius's cruelties, 359; is protected by Vibius, ib.; unites with Pompey and Csesar, 363; his am- bition 364; is grievously defeated by Surena, 369; betrayed by Andromachus, 370; and treacherously slain, 371. CRATESICLEA, her heroic and patriotic conduct, 526; death, 530. CRCESUS, Solon's interview with, 82. CURIO, his profligacy, 586. CURTIAN LAKE, why so called, 38. CVRUS, tomb of, 459; inscription on, ib. CYRUS, brother of Artaxerxes, revolts against him, and is slain in battle, (540. DAMON, banishment of, 121. DANCE, sacred, 26. DARIUS, defeated by Alexander, 441; his death. 450. DAYS, distinction of, into lucky ar V unlucky, considered, 111. DEAD, speaking ill of, forbidden, 79; .heir buri I a duty, 348. DEBTORS and creditors at Athens appeal to Solon DELPHI, 308. DEMADES the orator, his character, 482. DEMAGOGUE, Menestheus the first, 29. DEMETRIUS, his ostentation, 418; his general char- acter, 570; sails to Athens, and liberates the citi/ens, 572; their adulation, 573; his vices, 574; defeats Ptolemy, 576; his humanity, ib.; his pride, ib.; is grievously defeated, 578; for- saken by the Athenians, ib.; marries his daugh- ter to Seleucus, 580; retakes Athens, ib.; and treacherously slays Alexander, 580 ; takes Thebes, 581; his pomp, 582; is forsaken by the Macedonians, 583; and his other troops, 584; surrenders himself to Seleucus, ib.; his death and funeral, 585. DEMOCLES, his virtue and chastity, 576. DEMOSTHENES is left an orphan at seven years of age, 545; is fired by the example, of Callistra- tus, to become an orator, 546; calls his guar- dians to account, ib.; studies oratory, 547 ; overcomes, by diligence, the disadvantages of nature, ib.; opposes Philip, 549; but fails to act honorably in battle, 550; death of Philip, ib.; his contest with ^Eschines concerning the crown, 551; is corrupted by Harpalus, ib.; is punished for his misconduct, 552; and becomes an exile, ib.; is recalled, ib.; poisons himself, 553; inscription on his pedestal , ib. DICTATOR, by whom named, 221; etymology of the title, ib. DIOGENES the philosopher, his reply to Alexan- der, 438. DION, the disciple of Plato, 609; is calumniated to the king, 611; and falls under his displeas- ure, 612; is banished, and retires to Athens, ib.; undertakes the liberation of Sicily, 614; and succeeds, 615; meets with a great want of confidence in the Syracusans, 616; who drive him to Leontium, 618; the return of Dionysi- us and his severe slaughter of the Syracusans induce them to solicit Dion's return, ib.; he de- feats the troops of Dionysius, 620; his mag- nanimity, ib.; is opposed by Heraclides and his party, 621; a conspiracy being formed against him by one Callippus, he is murdered, 622. DIONYSIUS the tyrant, after ten years' exile, re- turns to Syracuse, and restores his affairs, 174; is conquered by Timoieon, 177; retires to Cor- inth, ib.; where, through poverty, he opens a school, 178; his education, 611; his conduct to Plato, 612. DIVORCE, law of, 40. DOLOPES, or pirates, expelled by Cimon from Scyros, 322. DRACO, severity of the laws of, 77; repealed by Solon, ib. EARTHQUAKE at Athens, 325. ECLIPSE of the moon, variously regarded as a good or bad omen, 191. ELYSIAN FIELDS, where situated, 376. INDEX. 685 ENVY, malicious stratagems of, 207. EPAMINONDAS., his friendship for Pelopidas, 201 ; commands the Theban army, which defeats Cleombrotus, king of Sparta, 206; attacks L>icediBmon,4H2; his death, 403. EPHESUS prospers under Lysander,294. EPHORI, their office, 392. , EPIMEMDES contracts friendship with Solon, 75; instructs the Athenians, ib. EUMENES, his birtli, 383; is made secretary to Al- exander, ib.; kills Neoptolemus in single com- bat, 385; is besieged by Anligonus in Nora, 386; receives succors from the Macedonians, 387; is betrayed by his own troops to Anti- gonus, 389; by whose order he is murdered, 390. FABII, family of the, why so called, 134. FABIUS Maxitnus, created dictator, 135; his pru- dent manner of conducting the war, ib.; tiie last hope of the Romans after their dreadful defeat at Cannae, 140; his mild conduct toward one who had endeavored to seduce his army, 141; recovers Tarentum by stratagem, ib.; his death, 144. FABLE of the body and its members, 161. FABIUCIUS, his probity and magnanimity, 71; and honor, ib. FAITH, swearing by, the greatest of oaths, 66. FALERII, city of, taken by Camillus, 108; anec- dote of a schoolmaster of, ib. FAME, how far to be regarded, 514. FAMINE, in the army of Mithridates, 331. FEAR, worshiped as a deity, 446. FECIALES, duty of, 64, 110. FERETRIUS, a surname of Jupiter, whence deriv- ed, 213. FIRE, sacred, introduced by Romulus, 40; ev^r- living, 112; an emblem of purity, ib. FIREPLACE, sacred, 166- FLAMINIUS, the consul, his rashness and death, 135. , Lucius, his cruelty, 261. , Titus Quinctius, his general character, 255; defeats Philip, 257; with whom he con- cludes a peace, 258; restores liberty to Greece, ib.; is appointed censor, 261; improperly in- terferes on behalf of his brother, ib. FLUTE, playing on, objected to by Alcibiades, 145. FORTUNATE ISLES, now the Canaries, supposed to be the Elysian fields, 376. FORTUNE and CHANCE, difference of, 184; muta- bility of, 277. FORTUNE OF WOMEN, temple of, occasion of its erection, 171. FRIENDSHIP of Theseus and Pirithous, origin of, 29; of Eparninondas and Pelopidas, 201. FULVIUS, the friend of Caius Gracchus, 540. GALBA, the richest private man that ever rose to the imperial dignity, 663; is solicited to take the command of the Gauls, ib.; is nominated by the seiu.te and the army, ib.; is influenced by the counsels of Vinius, 665; his avarice, 666; gives himself up to be governed by cor- rupt ministers, ib.; adopts Piso as his son, 668; but the soldiers revolting they are both slain, 669; his character, 670. GAULS, origin of the, 109; take Rome, 112. GENII, existence of, believed by Plutarch, xii.; their offices, 609. GORDIAN KNOT, aCCOUIlt of, 440. GRACCHUS, Tiberius, his character, and that of his brother, compared, 531; his good fame, 532; concludes a peace with the Nurnantians, ib. ; as tribune he proposes the Agrarian law, 533; which after much opposition is passed, 534; and followed by great commcUons, 535; during a violent tumult Gracchus is slain, 536; he is greatly lamented by the people, 537. n RACCHUS, Caius, his early eloquence, 537; goes out as quaestor to Sardinia, ib.; his popularity and the consequent jealousy of the senate, 53b; several laws proposed by him, ib. ; is opposed by the senate and nobles, 539; and ultimately killed, 542. RACCHI, their disinterestedness, 543. GRATITUDE, instance of, 248; in the Acheoans to ward Flaminins, 260. VLIPPUS, embezzles the money sent by Lvsan- der to Lacedaemon, 298. YMNOSOPHISTS, or INDIAN PHILOSOPHERS, their conference with Alexander, 457. HAIR, offering of, to Apollo, 22; cutting it off a token of mourning, 300. HANNIBAL defeats Minucius, 138; and the consuls ^Emilius and Vurro at Cannae, 139; endeavors to entrap Fabius, 141; kills himself in Bithy- nia, 261. HELEN, rape of, 29. HELOTES, cruel treatment of, at Sparta, 57. HEPH^STION, is attached to Alexander, his death, 459; is lamented by Alexander, 460. HIND, the favorite one of Sertorius, 377. HIPPARETE, wife of Alcibiades, 147. HIPPONICUS, conduct of Alcibiades toward, ib. HOMER, his writings made generally known to Lycurgus, 47. JANUS, temple of, shut in peace, open in war, 68. ICETES, is opposed by Tirnoleon, seized and con- demned, 183; his wife and daughter are execu- ted, ib. ICHNEUMON, description of the, 450. IDLENESS punished by the laws of Solon, 79. JEALOUSY of the Persians, 102. [LIAD, Homer's, valued by Aristotle, 436. IMAGES of the gods, worn in the bosom, 315. INTERREGES, Roman magistrates, their duty, 213. IREN, office and duties of, 53. IRON MONEY, introduced by Lycurgus into Spar- ta, 49. JUGDRTHA betrayed by his father-in-law into the hands of Sylla, 280; is led in triumph by Mari- us, 281; his wretched end, ib. JUNO, statue of, converses with Canjillus, 107. LAMIA, the courtesan, 574; various anecdotes of, 577. LAMPRIAS, grandfather of Plutarch, character of, xii. LAURENTIA, the nurse of Romulus, 32. LAVIMUM, the depository of the gods, besieged, 168. LAWS OF LYCURGUS, not to be written, 51. LAWSUITS unknown at Lacedsemon, 56. LEUCOTHEA, rites of the goddess, 107. LEUCTRA, battle of, fatal to the Lacedaemonian su- premacy in Greece, 401. LICINIA, wife of Caius Gracchus, begs him to avoid the public dissension, 541. LIFE, love of, not reprehensible, 200; not to be needlessly exposed by the general, ib. LUCANIAN LAKE, its peculiar nature, 362. LUCULLUS, his general character, 327, 328; is en- tertained by Ptolemy, king of Egypt, ib.; per- mits Mithridates to escape, ib.; whom he after- ward most signally defeats, 331 ; providentially escapes assassination, 333; gains an important victory over Tigranes,338; his troops mutiny, 340; for want of attachment to his person, ib.; he obtains the honor of a triumph, 342; his domestic trials, ib ; his luxury, pomp, and magnificence, ib.: his patronage of literature, 343; his death, 344. LUPERCALIA, feast of, 40. 686 INDEX. LUXURY, laws of Lycurgus against it, 52. LYCURGUS, uncertainty of the history of, 46; saves the life of his nephew, 47; collects the writings of Homer, ib.; consults the Delphian Oracle about altering the laws of Sparta, ib.; his new laws, 49; &c., &,c., &c.; exacts an oath for their observance, 57; starves himself at Delphi, ib.; and is deified at Sparta, 58. LYSANDER makes Ephesns a naval depot, 294; de- feats the Athenians at sea. ib.; his subtilty, 295; disregards the sanction of an oath, ib.; gains a. decisive victory over the Athenians, 296; his treachery and* want of faith, 299; is killed by the Thebans, at the siege of Hali- artus, .302; his probity, 303; and general de- pravity, ib. MACEDONIA conquered by the Romans, 195. MAMERCUS defeated by Tirnoleon, 183; endeavors to destroy himself, 184; but failing to do so, is taken and punished as a thief and robber, I*. MANIPULI, origin of the term, 34. MANLIUS. whysnrnarned Capitolinus, 117; is con- demned to death, ib. MARCELLUS, his general character, 211; defeats Viridoumrus, king of the Gesatse, whom he slays in battle, 213; his triumph, ib.; attacks and tak'^s Syracuse, 217; is accused of cruelty and oppression by the Syracusans, and honora- bly acquitted bv the senate, 220; is killed in reconnoitring Hannibal's camp, 222. MARCIUS CORIOLANUS, his early iove for every kind of combat, 160; takes Corioli, 162; his disinterestedness, ib.; obtains the name of Co- riolaiHis. ib. ; is refused th* consulship, 164; accused by the tribunes, ib.; condemned by them to death, and rescued by the patricians, 165; is banished, 166; and goes over to the Volscians, ib.; ravages the Roman territory, 168; &c., &c.; rejects repeated entreaties and embassies, 169; but is, at last, won upon by the prayers of his mother and wife, 170; is murdered by the Volscians, 172; and mourned for by the Romans, ib. HAftDONiro, the Persian general, sends ambassa- dors to Athens, to detach them from the cause of Greece, jjy promises of future peace and power, 228. MARIUS, his obscure birth, 278; is appointed con- sul, 281; and afterward a second, third, and fourth time, 282; defeats the Cimhri, 284; quarrels with Sylla, 288; by whom he is driven from Rome. 289; he is taken but set at liberty, 2UO; joins China, and marches to Rome, 292; massacres the citizens, ib. ; terrified at the ap- proach of Svlla, he becomes sick and dies, 293. MARRIAGE, regulations of, at Sparta, 52; laws of Solon concerning, 79. MARTHA, a prophetess, attends Marias, 283. MATRONALIA, tVast of. 40. MKNESTHEUS, the first demagogue, 29. MERCHANDISE, honorableness of, 72. METON, the Tarentine, dissuades his countrymen from war with the Romans, and alliance with Pyrrhus, 268. METE.LLUS refuses to take an oath required by the Agrarian law, and leaves Rome, 2^7; is recall- ed, 288. MINOTAUR killed by Theseus, 25. MINUCIUS upbraids Fabius, 136; his rash conduct, 137; is invested with power equal to that of Fabius, ib.; engaging with Hannibal, is rescu- ed by Fabius from defeat and disgrace, 138; no- ble conduct of, toward Fabius. ii>. MISFORTUNES, effect of, ou the minds of men, 483. MITHRIDATES, defeated by Sylla, 312; who grants him peace, ib.; routed by Lucullus, 331; sends Bacchides to see his wives and sisters put to death, 334; his death, 418. MODESTY, the praise of, 248. MONEY, of gold and silver, first introduced at Sparta, by Lysauder, 298. MOON, eclipses of, unknown to the Athenians, 355, MOUNTAINS, their greatest hight, as known to the Romans, 191. MOURNING, regulations of Numa concerning, 64; tokens of, among the ancients, 210. MUCJANUS, heroic conduct of, 90. MUSES, the sacrifices offered to, before battle, 54. Music, cultivated at Sparta, ib.; united with valor, ib. ; used before battle, 55. NAMES, the three in use among the Romans, 278. NEARCHUS, the philosopher, his doctrines, 236. NEUTRALITY, in times of danger, infamous, 78. NICAGORAS, duplicity, and treachery of, 529. NICIAS opposes Alcibiades, 148; his regulations respecting Delos, 349; his veneration for the gods, ib.; opposes the proposed expedition to Sicily, of which he is appointed commander, 351; "his timidity, 353; is defeated by the Sy- racusans, 356; by whom he is taken prisoner, 357; and stoned to death, ib. NICHOMACUS, the painter, anecdote of, 184. NUMA, character of, 60; is solicited to become king of Rome, 61; affects a veneration for re- ligion, 62; reforms the calendar, 67; dies, 69; and is honored by the neighboring nations, as well as his own people, ib.; is compared with Lycurgus, 70. NUMITOR, dispossessed of his kingdom by his brother Amulius, 32; recognizes his grandchild- ren, Romulus and Remus, 34. NURSES, Spartan preferred, 52. NYMPH^EUM. account of, 313. OATH, the great, its nature, 622. OATHS, what were deemed the most sacred, 194. OLTHACUS, fails in his attempt to assassinate Lu- cullus, 333. OMENS regarded by Alexander, 460; et passim. OPIMA, spoils, why so called, 37. OriMius, the consul, opposes Cains Gracchus, 540; his corruption and disgrace, 542. OPLACUS, his valor, 270. ORCHOMENUS, plain of, both large and beautiful, 312. ORODES, sends ambassadors to Crassus, 365. OROMASDES, the author of all good, 445. OSCHOPHORIA, feast of, 26. OSTRACISM, its nature, 95; object, 101. OTHO commences his reign with mildness, and in a manner calculated to conciliate the affec- tions of his new subjects, 670; is opposed by Vitellius, 671; by whom he is defeated, 674; and kills himself. 675; is lamented by hi troops, ib. OVATION, the lesser triumph, the nature of it, 219. PANATHEN^A, feast of, 26. PANTEUS, interesting account of the death of his wife, 530. PARMEXIO, the friend and counselor of Alexan- der, 445; put to death, 452. PARSLEY, wreaths of, considered sacred, 181. PARTHENON, built by Pericles, 124. PARTHIANS, their mode of commencing ati action, 367. PARYSATIS, mother of Artaxerxes, her cruelties, 642; is banished to Babylon, 643; is recalled, 641. PATRICIANS, etymology of th? word, 170. PATRONS and clients, 36. INDEX 657 PACSAMUS kills Cleonice, 322; his haughty con- duct, ib. PKLOHDAS, his birth and early virtues. 230; hi,s friendship for Epaminondus, 201 ; encourages the exiled Thebans to regain their liberties, 202; defeats the Spartans, 206; is seized by the tyrant. Alexander, 208 ; and recovered by Epaminondas, 209 ; undertakes a successful embassy to the king of Persia, ib.; is killed in a battle against Alexander the tyrant, 210; is honored and lamented by the Thessalians, 211. PERICLES, his parentage, 120; conduct, 122; elo- quence, ib.; banishes Cirnon, 123; his prudence, 127; military conduct, ib.; fulls into disgrace, 132; is recalled, ib.; his praise, 134. PERPENNA conspires against Sertorius, whom he murders, 382; and is himself taken and put to death by Pompey, ib. PERSEUS, king of Macedonia, defeats the Romans, 188; his avarice, and its ill effects, 189; de- ceives Gentius, 190; defeated by ^Emilitis, 193; surrenders himself to the Romans, 194; and is led in triumph by ^Emilius, 196; his death, 198. PHARNABAZUS, duplicity of, toward Lysander,299. PHIDIAS, the statuary, 130. PHILIP, the Acarnanian, his regard for Alexan- der, 440. - , king of Macedon, dies of a broken heart, for having unjustly put to death Deme- trius, his more worthy son, in consequence of an accusation preferred by his other son Perse- us, 188. PaiLOPoeMEN, his general character, 248; is invest- ed with the command of the Acheeans, and de- feats Machani'.las, 251 ; is defeated in a naval battle, 252; his contempt of money, 253; is taken prisoner and put to death, 254; is wor- thily lamented by the AchaBins, ib. PHOCION, his general character, 483; his obliga- tions and gratitude to Chahrias, 484; differs in opinion with Demosthenes, 487; successfully pleads with Alexander on behalf of the Athe- nians, ib.; whose gifts he refuses to accept, ib.; the excellent character of his wife, 488; refuses to be corrupted by Harpalus, ib.; de- feats the Macedonian forces, 489; his integri- ty, 491; and justice, ib.; is unjustly accused and put to death, 492; but is honored after death, 493. PIRATES, their depredations and audacity, 412; subdued by Pompey, 413. PIUITHOUS and Theseus, friendship of, 29. PISISTRATUS, ostentatious conduct of, 72. Pi, AGUE, at Athens. 132. . battle of, most fatal to the Parian arms, P;.\r.. seized by Diouvsius, and sold as a slave, 610; is invited by Dion to Sicily, 611; his re- turn, 613. PI.YNTERIA, ceremonies of, 157. POHAX.ETHRES kills Crassus by treachery, 370. POMPEY, his general character, 405, 406; is hon- ored by Sylla. 407; his domestic misconduct, ib. ; his inhumanity, ib.; subdues Africa, 408; conducts the war in Spain against Sertorius, 410; and obtains a second triumph, 412; ap- pointed with unlimited power to subdue the pirates, 413; his success, ib.; quarrels with Lucullus, 415; conquers numerous nations and armies, ib. 416; his splendid triumphs, 419; is appointed sole consul, 422; leaves Rome to oppose Caesar, 425; by whom he is conquered, 429; his death, 431; and funeral, 432. PORSENNA, his greatness of mind, 90. PORTIA, wife of Brutus, her heroic conduct, 626. y *> PORUS, defeated and taken prisoner by Alexan der, 456. PR.ECIA, her character and influence, 32.9. PROCRUSTES, slain by Theseus, 23. PSYLLI, a people who obviate the bite of serpents. 509. PTOLEMY, son of Pyrrhus, his death, 276. PUBLICOLA assists Brutus in expelling Tarquin, 84; is maJe consul, 86; defeats the Tuscans, and triumphs, 87; his magnanimity, ib.; makes many salutary laws, 88; death and character of, 92; compared with Solon, ib. PYRRHUS, is rescued from the Molossians, 2G4; and protected by Glancias, by whose aid he re- gains his kingdom, ib. ; kills Neoptolernus, who conspires against him, 265; his great military skill, 266; is declared king of Mace- don, 267; defeats the Roman army, 270; of- fers peace, which the senate refuse, ib.; in- vades Sicily, 272; is killed by an old woman, 277. QUIRINUS, a surname of Romulus, 43. QUIRITES, an appellation of the Romans, whence derived, 60. RATS, squeaking of, an unlucky omen, 213. REMUS, brother of Romulus, 32; discovered by N urn it or, 33; death of, 34. RHEA SYLVIA, mother of Romulus and Remus, 32. RICHES, true use of, 163. ROME, origin of, uncertain, 31; disputes about its site, 34; taken by the Gauls, 119; retaken by Cam ill us, ib. ROMULUS, brother of Remus, and grandson of Numitor, 32; builds Rome, 34; steals the Sa- bine women, 36; kills Abron, king of the Ce- cinensians, 37; makes peace with Tatius, 39; becomes arrogan*., 41 ; dies suddenly, 42. SABINE WOMEN, rape of, 36; mediate between their countrymen and the Romans, 39. SACRED BATTALION a part of the Theban army, 205. SALAMINIAN GALLEY, uses of, 122. SALII, an order of priesthood, establishment of, 65. SAMIAN WAR, carried on and terminated by Peri- cles, 129. SARDONIC LAUGH, what so called, 541. SATURNINUS proposes an Agrarian"law, 287. Scii'io. Africanus, his humane conduct to Hanni- bal, 262. SCYTALE, its nature and uses, 299. SENATE, Roman, institution of, 35; increased by Romulus, 39. , Spartan, introduced by Lycurgus, 48; mode of filling up vacancies in, 56. SERTORIUS, his general character, 374; serves un- der Marius, and is wounded, ib.; loses an eye, 375; visits the Canary Isles, 370; harasses the Roman armies, 377; subdues the Characitani by stratagem, 379; rejects the offers of Mith- ridates, 382; is murdered by Perpenna, one of the generals, ib. SERVILIUS Marcus, his speech in defense of Pan - Ins /Emilius, 196. SICINIUS, one of the Roman tribunes, accuses Marcus Coriolanus, 165. SICINUS, a spy, employed by Themistocleg. 98. SILKNUS. the pretended son of Apollo, 302. SITTING, a posture of mourning, 509. SOLON converses with Anacharsis and Thales, 73; writes a poem to persuade the Athenians to rescind a foolish law, 74; takes Salamis, i6.; settles disputes between the rich and the poor, 76; repeals the laws of Draco, 77; various regulations, 81; sails to Egypt, Cyprus, and Sardis; has au interview with Croesus, 82. 688 INDEX. SOPHOCLES gains the prize as a tragic writer, at Athens, 323. SPARTA becomes corrupted by the introduction of money, 58. SPARTACUS, war of, its origin and success, 361 ; and termination, 362. STARS, opinion of the Peloponnesians concerning them, 296. STASICRATES, the architect, employed by Alexan- der, 460. STKATOCLES, his impudence and effrontery, 573. SUCRO, battle of, 380. SuLPrrirs, his great depravity, 307; and death, ib. SURENA, his dignity and honor,366; defeats Cras- sus, 370. SYLLA, receives Jugurtha as a prisoner from Boc- chus, king of Numuiiu, 280; etymology of his name, 304; his character, ib.; enters Rome, and Indiscriminately massacres the innocent an'l the guilty, 307; defeats the army of Ar- chelaus, 312; h?s cruelties, 315, 316; depravi- ty, 317, and death, ib. SYRACUSE, the nature- of the town of, 179; is at- tacked and taken. See Marcellns. TARENTUM taken by Fabius, by stratagem. See Fabius. TARPEIA, treachery and punishment, 38. THAIS persuades Alexander to destroy the palaces of the Macedonian king, 448. THEBE, wife of the tyrant Alexander, conspires against her husband, 211. THEMISTOCLES is opposed by Aristides, 94; his ambition, 95; defeats Xerxes, !!9; is greatly honored, 100; is banished, 101 ; seeks protec- tion from Admetus, king of the Moiosmians, 102; throws himself on the generosity of Xerx- es, 103; escapes assassination, 104; his death, ft. THESEUS life of, 21; and Romulus compared, 44. THUCYDIL.ES opposes Pericles, 124. TIGRANES, his pride, 335; is completely defeated by Lucullns,338. TIM/EUS the historian, character of, 346. TlMOLEON, his parentage and character, 174; pre- fers his country to his family, and siays hia brother, 175; conquers Dionysius, 177; is at- tempted to be assassinn ted, 178; defeats the Carthaginians, and sends immense spoils to Corinth, 162; extirpates tyranny, 184; his death and magnificent burial, 185. TIM ON the misanthropist, 603. TOLMIDES, imprudence of, 126. TRIBES, etymology of the word, 40. TRIBUNES of the people, occasion of their election, 161. TROY, the name of a Roman game, 494. TULLUS AUFIDIUS receives Coriohnus, 166 TURPILIUS is put to death falsely, 280. TUSCULANS, artful conduct of, 118. TUTULA, her prudent counsel. 116. VALERIA intercedes with the mother and wife of Coriolanns on behalf of their country, 170. VARRO is completely defeated at Cttnuee, by Han- nibal, 139. ' VEIENTES, defeated by Romulus, 41. VENUS, Paphian, high honor of her priesthood, 365. VINDIC/US discovers the conspiracy of the Aquilii and Vitellii to Valerius, 85; and is made free, 86 VINIUS, Titus urges Galb* to accept the imperial purple, 663; his character. 665. VITELLII conspire with the Aquilii in favor oj Tarquin, 85; are discovered and punished, 86. WAR, not to be often made against the same ene- my, 51. WATER, springs of, how formed, 19% Wo>ux, "(ino-is laws of Solon's concerning, 79. XERXES is defeated by Themistocles, 99. 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The range of subjects embraced in these several essays and scientific treatises, is varied, are all highly important and of practical utility to mankind gen- erally. These characteristics of Dr. Dick's writings, while they render them per- manently valuable, insure for them also a wide circulation among all classes of readers. From the Cincinnati Gazette. The best recommendation which can be given of Dr. Dick's Works, is the great popularity they have enjoyed, and the numerous editions of them, collected and separate, which have been published in England and America. Messrs. Applegate & Co. are deserving of much praise for the tasteful and handsome style in which they have issued the work, and at such a price as to be within the reach of all. From the Central Watchman. Dr. Dick's works have filled a place occupied by no others, and have presented the great facts of nature and the scientific movements and discoveries of the present age, in a manner at once both pleasing and instructive. They should have a place in every family library, and be read by all. APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. THE SPECTATOR. With Biographical Notices of its Contributors. 1 vol., royal 8vo., 750 pages, with a portrait of Addison. Sheep, spring back, marble edge. There is no work in the English language that has been more generally read, ap- proved, and appreciated than THE SPECTATOR. It is a work that can be perused by persons of all classes and conditions of society with equal pleasure and profit. Of all the writings of Addison, the Spectator is the most suited to general reading ; in the style of its composition and purity of dictum it is unsurpassed, and it has ever stood in the first rank among the English classics. Beside general notings of the state of English society in all its phases, at the time and anterior to that of writing, it incul- cates sage maxims, morals, and advice, applicable at all times. It is bound in library style, corresponding with our Dick, Hollin, &c. From the Central Cliristian Herald. One hundred and forty years ago, when there were no daily newspapers nor peri- odicals, nor cheap fictions for the people, the Spectator had a daily circulation in England. It was witty, pithy, tasteful, and at times vigorous, and lashed the vices and follies of the age, and inculcated many useful lessons which would have been disregarded from more serious sources. It was widely popular. It contains some very excellent writing, not in the spasmodic, moon-struck style of the fine writing of the present day, but in a free, graceful, and flowing manner. It used to be con- sidered essential to a good style and a knowledge of Belles-Lettres to have studied the Spectator, and we are certain our age is not wise in the selection of some of the substitutes which are used in its stead. It should yet be a parlor volume, which should be read with great profit. But we do not design to criticise the book, but have prefixed these few facts, foi the information of our readers, to a notice of a new edition of the work by Messrs. Applegate & Co. It is entirely of Cincinnati manufacture, and is in a style very creditable to the enterprising house which has brought it out. From the Cincinnati Commercial. Applegate & Co., 43 Main street, have just published, in a handsome octavo volume of 750 pages, one of the very best classics in our language. It would be superfluous at this day to write a line in commendation of this work. The writings of Addison are imperishable and will continue to charm youth and age while lan- guage lasts. From the Cincinnati Gazette. It is a source of general satisfaction to hear of the repubiication of a work of such standard merit as the Spectator. In these days, when the press teems with the issue of ephemeral publications, to subserve the purpose of an hour, to enlist momentary attention, and leave no improvement on the mind, or impression on the heart it is a cause of congratulation to see, now and then, coming from the press such works as this ; to last as it should, so long as a pure taste is cultivated or esteemed. From the Cincinnati Daily Times. Criticism upon the literary merits of the Spectator would be rather late and superfluous at the present time. Steele, Addison, and Swift are above criticism. This edition is gotten up in style and form that will make it peculiarly acceptable to the admirers of English literature. It is bound in one volume, with copious notes of the contributors prefixed. The type is clear and elegant, the paper good, and the binding excellently suitable for the library. APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. PLUTARCH'S LIVES. With Historical and Critical Notes, and a LIFE OF PLUTARCH. Illustrated with a portrait. 1 vol., Svo. Sheep, spring back, marbled edge. This edition has been carefully revised and corrected, and is printed upon entirely new plates, stereotyped by ourselves, to correspond with our library edition of Dick's Works, &c. From tJie Nashville and Louisville Christian Advocate. PLUTARCH'S LIVES. This great work, to which has long since been awarded the first honors of literature, is now published complete in one volume by Messrs Applegate & Co., of Cincinnati, and offered at so low a price as to place it within the reach of all. This is a desideratum, especially in this age of " many books/' Next in importance to a thorough knowledge of history, and in many respects fully equal to it, is the study of well authenticated biography. For this valuable purpose, we know of no work extant superior to the fifty lives of Plutarch. It is a rare magazine of literary and biographical knowledge. The eminent men whose lives compose this work, constitute almost the entire of that galaxy of greatness and brightness, which stretches across the horizon of the distant past, and casts upon the present time a mild and steady luster. Many of them are among the most illustrious of the earth. From tJ> Ladies' Repository. No words of criticism, or of eulogy, need be spent on Plutarch's Lives. Every body knows it to be the most popular book of biographies now extant in any known language. It has been more read, by the youth of all nations, for the last four or five centuries in particular, than any ever written. It has done more good, in its way, and has been the means of forming more sublime resolutions, and even more sublime characters, than any other work with which we are acquainted, except the Bible. It is a better piece of property for a young man to own, than an eighty acre lot in the Mississippi Valley, or many hundred dollars in current money. We would rather leave it as a legacy to a son, had we to make the choice, than any moderate amount of property, if we were certain he would read it. There are probably but few really great men now living, that have not been largely indebted to it for their early aspirations, in consequence of which they have achieved their greatness. It is a magnificent octavo, on solid and clear paper, well bound, and, in every way, neatly and substantially executed. Most sincerely do we commend it, again and again, to the reading public. From Cist's Advertiser. A beautiful edition of Plutarch's Lives, published by Applegate & Co., has been laid on our table. Who has not read Plutarch ? and what individual of any force of character has not made the " Lives " his study ? It was one of Napoleon's favorite books, and doubtless had its full share in forming his character, and fitting him for that splendid career of his, which has had no precedent heretofore, as it will hardly find a parallel hereafter. This volume is handsomely gotten up, and in every respect creditable to the good taste and enterprise of this firm. From the Indiana State Sentinel. Of the literary merit of this work, it is unnecessary to speak. Every school boy knows " Plutarch's Lives" is essential in every well-informed man's library. In the language of the translator of the present edition, "if the merits of a work may be estimated from the universality of its reception, Plutarch's Lives have a claim to the first honors of literature. No book has been more generally sought after, or read with greater avidity." APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. ROLLIN'S ANCIENT HISTORY. The Ancient History of the Carthagenians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Modes and Persians, Grecians and Macedonians, including a History of the Arts and Sciences of the Ancients, with a Life of the Author. 2 vols., royal Svo. Sheep, spring back, marble edge. One of the most complete and impartial works ever published. It takes us back to early days, and makes us live arid think with the men of by-gone centuries. It spreads out to us in a pleasant and interesting style, not only the events which char- acterized the early ages, but the inner world of thought and feeling, as it swayed the leading minds of the times. No library is complete without liollin's Ancient History. From the Western Recorder, A new edition of Rollin's Ancient History has just been issued by AppL^te & Co. The value and importance of this work are universally acknowledged. Every private library is deficient without it ; and it is now furnished at so cheap a rate, that every family should have it. It should be placed in the hands of all our youth, as infinitely more instructive and useful than the thousand and one trashy publications with which the country is deluged, and which are so apt to vitiate the taste, and ruin the minds of young readers. One more word in behalf of this new edition of Rol lin : It may not be generally known, that in previous English editions a large anJ interesting portion of the work has been suppressed. The deficiencies are here sup- plied and restored from the French editions, giving the copy of Messrs. Appleg^tc & Co. a superiority over previous English editions. From the Springfield Republic. A superb edition of this indispensable text and reference book is published by Messrs. Applegate & Co. The work in this form has been for some years before th^ public, and is the best and most complete edition published. The work is comprised in two volumes of about 600 pages each, containing the prefaces of Ilollin and th* "History of the Arts and Sciences of the Ancients," which have been omitted i most American editions. From the Western CJiristian Advocate. The work is too well known, and has too long been a favorite to require any com- mendation from us. Though in some matters more recent investigations have led to conclusions different from those of the Author, yet his general accuracy is unques- tionable From the Methodist Protestant, Baltimore. This work is too well known as standard as necessary to the completion of every gentleman's library that any extended notice of it would be folly on our part. We have named it for the purpose of calling the attention of our readers to the beautiful edition issued by the enterprising house of Messrs. Applegate & Co. Those who have seen their edition uf Dick's Works, Plutarch's Lives, Spectator, &c., &c., may form a correct idea of the style. We call it a beautiful library edition. The paper is good, the type clear, the binding substantial, and the whole getting up just such as becomes standard works of this class. APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. MOSHEIM'S CHURCH HISTORY, Ancient and Modern, from the birth of Christ to the Eighteenth Century, in which the Rise, Progress, and Variations of Church Power are considered hi their connection with the state of Learning and Philosophy ; and the Political History of Europe during that period, continued up to the present time, by CHARLES COOTE, LL. D. 806 pages, 1 vol., quarto, spring back, marbled edge. From the Gospel Herald. Tii is edition forms the most splendid volume of Church History ever issued from the American press; is printed with large type, on elegant paper, and altogether forms the most accessible and imposing history of the Church that is before the public. The former editions of Mosheim have ever been objectionable in conse- quence of the amount of matter crowded into a single page. To do this, very small type were necessarily used, and the lines were so crowded, that the close and con- tinued perusal of the work was very injurious to the eyes. This edition avoids all these evils, and we most heartily recommend it. From the Masonic Review. This great standard history of the Church from the birth of Christ, has just been issued in a new dress by the extensive publishing house of Applegate & Co. Nothing need be said by us in relation to the merits or reliability of Mosheim's History : it has long borne the approving seal of the Protestant world. It has become a standard work, and no public or private library is complete without it; nor can an individual be well posted in the history of the Christian Church for eighteen hundred years, without having carefully studied Mosheim. We wish, however, particularly to recommend the present edition. The pages are in large double columns ; the type i* large and very distinct, and the printing is admirable, on fine white paper. It is really a pleasure to read such print, and we recommend our friends to purchase this edition of this indispensable work. From the Telescope, Dayton, O. This work has been placed upon our table by the gentlemanly and enterprising publishers, and we are glad of an opportunity to introduce so beautiful an edition of this standard Church history to our readers. The work is printed on beautiful white paper, clear large type, and is bound in one handsome volume. No man ever sat down to read Mosheim in so pleasing a dress. What a treat is such an edition to one who has been studying this elegant work in small close print of other editions. Any one who has not an ecclesiastical history should secure a copy of this edition. It is not necessary for us to say anything in relation to the merits of Mosheim'a Church History. For judgment, taste, candor, moderation, simplicity, learning, accuracy, order, aiid comprehensiveness, it is unequaled. The author spared no pains to examine the original authors and " genuine sources of sacred history," and to scrutinize all the facts presented by the light of the " pure lamps of antiquity." From Professor Wriyktson. Whatever book has a tendency to add to our knowledge of God, or the character or conduct of his true worshipers, or that points out the errors and mistakes of for- mer generations, must have an elevating, expanding, and purifying influence on the human mind. Fully as important, however, is it that all the facts and phases of events should be exhibited with truthfulness, perspicuity, and vigor. To the Chris- tian world, next to the golden Bible itself, in value, is an accurate, faithful, and life- like delineation of the rise and progress, the development and decline of the Christian Church in all its varieties of sects and denominations, their tenets, doctrines, man- ners, customs, and government. Such a work is Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History. Like " llolliii's History of the Ancients/' it is the standard, and is too well known to need a word of comment. * APPLEGATB & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. GATHERED TREASURES FROM THE MINES OF LITERATURE. Containing Tales, Sketches, Anecdotes, and Gems of Thought, Literary, Moral, Pleasing and Instructive. Illustrated with steel plates. 1 vol. octavo. Embossed. To furnish a volume of miscellaneous literature both pleasing and instructive, has been the object of the editor in compiling this work, as well as to supply, to some extent, at least, the place that is now occupied by publications which few will deny are of a questionable moral tendency. It has been the intention to make this volume a suitable traveling and fireside com- panion, profitably engaging the leisure moments of the former, and adding an addi- tional charm to the cheerful glow of the latter ; to blend amusement with instruction, pleasure with profit, and to present an extensive garden of vigorous and useful plants, and beautiful and fragrant flowers, among which, perchance, there may be a few of inferior worth, though none of utter inutility. While it is not exclusively a religious work, yet it contains no article that may not be read by the most devoted Christian. From the Intelligencer. This may emphatically be termed a reading age. Knowledge is increasing in a wonderful ratio. The night of ignorance is fast receding, and the dawn of a better and brighter day is before the world. The demand for literature is almost universal. The people will read and investigate for themselves. How important, then, to place within their reach such books that will instruct the mind, cheer the heart, and im- prove the understanding books that are rich in the three grand departments of human knowledge literature, morals, and religion. Such a book is " Gathered Treasures." We can cheerfully recommend it to all. From the Cincinnati Daily Times. This is certainly a book of rare merit, and well calculated for a rapid and general circulation. Its contents present an extensive variety of subjects, and these not only carefully but judiciously selected, and arranged in appropriate departments. Its eon- tents have been highly spoken of by men of distinguished literary acumen, both editors and ministers of various Christian denominations. We cheerfully recom- mend it. From the Cincinnati Temperance Organ. A book of general merit, diversified, yet truly rich and valuable in its interests ; thrilling in many of its incidents ; instructive in principle, and strictly moral in its tendency. It is well calculated for a family book, one that a father need sot be afraid to place in the hands of his children. We hope it will meet with an exten- sive sale. GATHERED TREASURES FROM THE MINES OF LITERATURE. " One of the most interesting everyday books ever published. Like the Spectator, it may be perused again and again, and } r et afford something to interest and amuse the reader. Its varied and choice selections of whatever is beautiful or witty, startling or amusing, can not fail to afford rich enjoyment to minds of every character, and a pleasant relaxation from more severe and vigorous reading/ GATHERED TREASURES. tc A choice collection of short and interesting articles, comprising selections from the ablest authors. Unlike voluminous works, its varied selections afford amusement for a leisure moment, or entertainment for a winter evening. It is alike a companion for the railroad car, the library and parlor, and never fails to interest its reader." APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. NOTES ON THE TWENTY-FIVE ARTICLES OF RELIGION, As received and taught by Methodists in the United States, In which the doctrines are carefully considered and supported by the testimony of the Holy Scriptures. By Kev. A. A. JIMESON, M. D. 12mo, embossed cloth. This book contains a clear exposition of the doctrines of the Articles, and of the errors against which the Articles were directed, written in a popular style, and divided into sections, for the purpose of presenting each doctrine and its opposite error in the most prominent manner. From Rev. John Miller. It is a book for the Methodist and for the age a religious multum in parvc combining sound theology with practical religion. It should be found in every Methodist family. From the Western Christian Advocate. The author intended this volume for the benefit of the " three great divisions of American Methodism, the Methodist Episcopal Church, the Methodist Protestant Church, and the Methodist Episcopal Church South. " The articles are taken up one by one, and their contents analyzed, explained, and defended with much ability. The style is clear and forcible; the illustrations are just, the argmments sound. The author has performed a good and useful work for all the Methodist bodies in the world ; as his book will furnish a very satisfactory exposition of the leading doctrines of Methodism. We cordially recommend Mr. Jimeson's volume to the perusal of our readers, as well as to all Christian people, whether ministers or laymen. DICK'S THEOLOGY. Lectures on Theology. By the kte Rev. JOH^ DICK, D. D., Minister of the United As- sociate Congregation, Grayfrier, Glasgow, and Professor of Theology to the United Session Church. Published under the superintendence of his Son. With a Biographical Introduction. By an American Editor. With a Steel Portrait of Dr. Dick. 1 vol. Imperial Octavo, sheep, marble edge, spring back Do do do do do embossed do Do do do do half antique do Do do do do Irnt. Turkey full gilt do Do do do do Super. Turkey, beveled sides, full gilt From the Christian Instructor. "These Locturcs were read by their Author in the discharge of his professional functions : they embody the substance of his Essay on Inspiration, and the peculiar views on Church Government, which he advanced in his Lectures on the Acts. " The Lectures throughout, display an extensive and most accurate knowledge of the great variety of important topics which come before him. His system has all the advan- tages of fair proportion ; there is nothing neglected, and nothing overloaded. His taste is correct and pure, even to severity ; nothing is admitted either in language or in matter, that can not establish the most indisputable right to be so." From the Christian Journal. "We recommend this work in the very strongest terms to the Biblical student. It is, as a whole, superior to any other system of theology in our language. As an elementary book, especially fitted for those who are commencing the study of divinity, it is unrivaled." From Professor "Wrigldson. " This is a handsome octavo work of GOO pages, published in uniform style with the other valuable standard works of Applegate & Co. It contains a thorough and enlightened view of Christian Theology, in which the author presents in beautiful, simple, and forcible style, the evidences of authenticity of the sacred text, the existence and attributes of the Deity, the one only and unchangeable God. The fall of man, and its consequences, and the restoration of the fallen through intercession of the Crucified. It is one of the most simple and yet elevated of works devoted to sacred subjects." APPLEUATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. PETERSON'S FA3IILIAH SCIENCE; Or, the Scientific Explanation of Common Things. Edited by R. E. PETERSON, Member of the Academy of Natural Sciences, Phila delphia. 18mo., neatly bound in cloth. From the Masonic Review. This is a work of rare merit. It furnishes an immense amount of valuable inform- ation in relation to matters and things that are constantly presented to the mind, and which are so common that they are overlooked. We have not seen a work in a long time that we deem of so much value as the book before us. It should be in every family, for more information can be gained from it, than from half the books afluat. AVe most heartily commend it to the public. From the Odd Fellows' Literary Gazette.. How often have we heard parents rebuke a child for asking what they term " silly questions/' when they were unable to answer their artless inquiries. The desire for knowledge is ever leading children into asking questions, which, from their novelty, are set down as foolish, when, in reality, they can be answered on scientific principles. This little work is designed to explain many of these things ; it contains much useful and practical scientific knowledge, in a very popular and entertaining form, suffi- ciently plain to be understood by a child, and yet affording instruction to persons of mature years. ELEMENTS OE THE GEEMAN LANGUAGE. A Practical Manual for acquiring the art of Reading, Speaking, and Composing German. By THEODORE SODEN, Professor of the German Language and Literature, at the Woodward and Hughes' High Schools of Cincinnati. 1 vol. 12mo. half cloth. From ALEX. H. McGuFFisy, Esq., Cincinnati. * * * Prof Soden's " Elements of the German Language " is superior to any other Treatise on the German Language with which I am acquainted. To name only a few of its more prominent merits : its order and method seem to be espe- cially adapted to the genius of the German language; its exercises are simple and carefully progressive. They are made up of matter calculated to interest as well as to instruct the pupil, and embrace a large proportion of the idiomatic expressions of the language, particularly of the colloquial character. The work is very complete in embracing all the more important grammatical rules and forms (with copious exercises under each), and omitting only such as by their minuteness and compli- cation would tend rather to confuse than assist the beginner. It everywhere bears the marks of most careful preparation, and is evidently the work of an experienced practical teacher. From WM. NAST, D. D.. of " Der Christliche Apologete," Cincinnati. * * * Mr. Soden's work is truly superior, original and the fruit of successful expe- rience in teaching. A peculiar recommendation of h, is, that the student can make immediate practical use of every lesson he learns. * * * From Dr. J. S. UNZICKER, Cincinnati. fhis work has been compiled with great care and judgment, and is far more comprehensive and practical than any similar work 1 know of. It is weH adapted for the use of our High Schools, and especially for those of English parentage who wish to study the German Language. From J. B. MOORMAN, Esq., Cincinnati. I have, with some care, examined Prof. Soden's Elements of the German Language, and I think it will be found to be all that it was intended to be, " A Practical Manual for "acquiring the Art of Heading, Speaking, and Composing German." Its beginning is so --k'p'e, ni. i the udvance to the more difficult so gradual, that it must be very useful and even interesting to all wUc desire to learn a language " with which Bone that lives may enter the arena." APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. METHODISM EXPLAINED AND DEFENDED. By Rev. JOHN S. INSKIP. 12mo., embossed cloth. From the Herald and Journal. "VVe have read this book with no ordinary interest, and, on the whole, rejoice in its appearance for several reasons First, It is a concise and powerful defense of every essential feature of Methodism, now-a-days so much assailed by press and pulpit. Second, The general plan and character of the work are such, that it will be read and appreciated by the great masses of our people who are not familiar with more extended and elaborate works. Third) It is highly conservative and practical in its tendencies, and will eminently tend to create liberal views and mutual concession between the ministry and kity for the good of the ivliole a feature in our economy never to be overlooked. Fourth, This work is not written to advocate some local or neighborhood prejudice; neither to confute some particular heresy or assault; but its views are peculiarly denominational and comprehensive, indicating the careful and wide observation of the author free from bigotry and narrow prejudice. From the Springfield Republic. We have read this new work of Rev. J. S. Inskip with great pleasure and profit. It in very truth explains and defends Methodism, and, as the introduction (written by another,) says, " its pages cover nearly the whole field of controversy in regard to the polity of the Methodist Church, and present a clear and candid exposition of Methodism in a clear and systematic form, and highly argumentative style. It is a book for the times, and should be read by all who desire to become more intimately acquainted with the Methodist economy. It excels all other works of its class in the arrangement and judicious treatment of its subject." It has evidently been written with great prudence and care in reference to the facts and evidences on which the arguments are predicated. This book will doubtless be of general service to the Church, and an instrument of great good. CHKISTIANITY, As Exemplified in the Conduct of its Sincere Professors. By Rev. W. SECKER. This is a book of rare merit, full of thought-exciting topics, and is particularly valuable as an aid to Christian devotion. 12mo. ; embossed cloth. . From the Madison Courier. This is a reprint of a quaint old English book, entitled " The None-Such Pro- fessor in his Meridian Splendor." It abounds in pithy sentences and suggestive expressions, and should be read by such as wish to put a spur to thought. From Rev. N. Summerbell. This work can be best understood by presenting an outline of its contents : Part First, answers why Christians should do more than others. Part Second, considers what Christians do more than others. Part Third, shows that the Scriptures require of Christians singular principles, or to do more than others. Part Fourth, imparts instruction to those who Avish to do more than others. This work is peculiarly free from sectarianism, and breathes out, in short but balanced sentences, the most Heavenly devotion and Christian piety, while probing ihe religious character with the most searching scrutiny. APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. SACHED LITERATURE OF THE LOAD'S PLAYER. In which the terms are defined, and the text carefully considered 12mo., cloth. " This is a volume of rare excellence, written in the i uthor's usual style of great beauty and elegance. It sparkles with gems of elevated thought, and abounds in the most happy illustrations of the great philosophical bearings of the several petitions' of the Lord's Prayer on the general system of Revealed Religion, while their philos- ophy is very forcibly applied to the various duties of practical Christianity. " The introductory chapter is a learned and patient resta^h into the leal origin and history of the use of this prayer, while the succeeding chapters cau not &*A both to instruct the head and improve the heart. We have not read a more mcr, t fating book for many years, and can most cordially recommend it to every lover ot' chaste logical literature. It is a 12mo., gotten up in the best ptyle of the art." RELIGIOUS COURTSHIP; Or, Marriage on Christian Principles. By DANIEL DEFOE, Author of " Robinson Crusoe." tl Who has not read Robinson Crusoe ? It has fascinated every boy, and stimulated his first taste for reading. Defoe has been equally happy in this present work, in interesting those of riper years, at an age (Shakspeare's age of the lover) when the mind is peculiarly susceptible of impressions. Although but few copies of this work have ever been circulated in America, yet it has a popularity in England coextensive with his unparalleled < Crusoe/ " From the Masonic Review. Applegate & Co., have just issued, in their usual good style, a new edition of this old and valuable work by Defoe. It treats of marriage on Christian principles, and is designed as a guide in the selection of a partner for life. Young persons should by all means read it, and with particular attention, for it furnishes important direc- tions relative to the most important act of life. Home for the Million ; or Gravel Wall Buildings. This is one of the most desirable hooic pub- lished, for all who contemplate erecting dwellings or outhouses, as the cost is not over one-third that of brick or frame, and quite as durable. Illustrated with numerous plans, and a, cut of the author's residence, with full directions, that every man may be his own builder. The Camp Meeting and Sabbath School Chorister A neat Sunday School Hymn Book. Sacred Melodeon. A Collection of Revival Hymns. By Rev. R. M. DALBY. Nightingale ; or Normal School Singer. Designed for Schools, Home Circle, and Private Prac- tice. On a Mathematically constructed System of Notation. By A. D. FILLMOUE, author of Uni- versal Musician. Christian Psalmist, etc. lectures and Sermons. By Rev. F. G. BLACK, of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church. I2mo., embossed cloth. Western Adventure. By McCuixG. Illustrated. American Church Harp. A Choice Selection of Hymns and Tunes adapted to nil Christian Churches, Singing Schools, and Private Families. By Rev. W. RHI.NEHART. I2mo , half morocco, APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. FARMER'S HAND-BOOK. By JOSIAH T. MARSHALL, author of " Emigrant's True Guide." 12mo. ; cloth, 500 pages. The publishers are gratified that they are enabled to satisfy the universal demand for a volume which comprises a mass of superior material, derived from the most authentic sources and protracted research. The contelfts of the " Farmer's Hand-Book " can be accurately known and duly estimated only by a recurrence to the Index of Subjects, which occupies twenty -four columns, comprising about fifteen hundred different points of information respecting the management of a Farm, from the first purchase and clearing of the land, to all its extensive details and departments. The necessary conveniences, the household economy, the care of the animals, the preservation of domestic health, the cultivation of fruits with the science and taste of the arborist, and the production of the most advantageous articles for sale, are all displayed in a plain, instructive, and most satisfactory manner, adapted peculiarly to the classes of citizens for whose use and benefit the work is specially designed. Besides a general outline of the Constitution, with the Naturalization and Pre-emption Laws of the United States, there is appended a Miscellany of 120 pages, including a rich variety of advice, hints, and rules, the study and knowledge of which will unspeakably promote both the comfort and welfare of all who adopt and practice them. The publishers are assured that the commendations which the " Farmer's Hand- book " has received, are fully merited ; and they respectfully submit the work to Agriculturists, in the full conviction that the Farmer or the Emigrant, in any part of the country, will derive numberless blessings and improvements from his acquaint- ance with Mr. Marshall's manual. LORENZO DOW'S COMPLETE WORKS. THE dealings of GOD, MAN, AND THE DEVIL, as exemplified in the LIFE, EXPE- RIENCE, AND TRAVELS of LORENZO DOW, in a period of over half a century, together with his POLEMIC AND MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS COMPLETE. To which is added The Vicissitudes of Life, By PEGGY Dow. With an Introductory Essay, By JOHN DOWLING, D. D., of New York. Making the best and only complete edition published. 1 vol, octavo, Library binding. Do., do., Embossed. Spring back, marble edge. FAMILY TREASURY, Of "Western Literature, Science, and Art. Illustrated with Steel Plates. SYO., cloth, gilt sides and back. This work most happily blends valuable information and sound morality, with the gratification of a literary and imaginative taste. Its pages abound in sketches of history, illustrations of local interest ; vivid portraitures of virtuous life, and occa- sional disquisitions and reviews. APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. WEBB'S FREEMASON'S MONITOR! By Thomas Smith Webb, Past Grand Master, etc. A New "Edition, printed on fine paper, large and clear type, beautifully and symbolically illustrated, containing all the Degrees, from Entered Apprentice to Knights of Malta, together with a sketch of the Origin of Masonry, Government of the Fraternity, Ceremony of Opening and Closing the Lodge, with full directions for Instituting and Installing ail Masonic bodies, to which is added A Monitor of the Ancient and Accepted Rite, * Containing ample Illustrations of all the Grades, from Secret Master to Sovereign Grand luspec- tor-General, including the series of Eleven Grades, known as the INEFFABLE DEiJKES, arranged according to the work practiced under the jurisdiction of the SUPREME COUNCIL OF THP 33d DKGREE. By E. T. CARSON, Sov. G. Com. Ohio G. Consistory of P. B. S. 32. 1 vol., I2mo., cloth, 420 pages. $1.00. A Voice from all the Masonic bodies in Cincinnati. CINCINNATI, June 1st, 1858. GENTLEMEN: Having carefully examined your new edition of "Webb's Freemason's Monitor," \ve find it to correa pond with the System of work as now adopted in all the Masonic bodies in the United States, and we take great pleas- ure in recommending it to the Craft throughout the country, as being the most useful and well-arranged practical Manual of .Freemasonry that we have yet seeoi. D. H. HEARS. W. M. of N. C. Harmony Lodge, No. 2. WILLIAM SIS 13, W. M. of Miami Lod-e. No. 4G. J. M. PARKS. W. M. of Lafayette Lodge. No. 81. HOWARD MATTHEWS. W. M. of Cincinnati Lodge, No. 133. 3. MOORE. \V. M. of McMillan Lodge. No. Ml. E. T. CARSON. W M. of Cynthia Lodge. No. 155. ANDREW Pf-'IRRMANN, W. M. of Hansehnann Lodge, No. 208. WM. C. MIDDLETON, H. P. of Cincinnati R. A. Chapter, No. 2. CHAS. BROWN. H. P. of McMillan It. A. Chapter. No. la. MESSRS. APPLKGATK & Co. C. F. HANSELMANN, G. C. of Cincinnati Eucampmeut. No. 3. From the Grand Master of Ohio. * * * The admirable arrangement of the emblems of Masonry in your edition of Webb's Freemason's Monitor makes the work complete, and I am much pleased to say it meets my entire approval- Accept my thanrt for the beautiful copy sent me, which I assure you I prize highly. HORACE M. STOKES, Grand Master of Ohio. GRAND LODGE OF INDIANA, May 24, 1858. GENTLEMEN : I have examined with care your late edition of " Webb's Masonic Monitor," and freely pronounce it to be the best book of the kind extant. The language, charges, &c., I have used in all my Masonic work, and would not change under any circumstances. I freely recommend the "Monitor" to be adopted and used in my jurisdiction. SOLOMON P. BAYLESS, Grand Master of Masons in Indiana. * * * I most cheerfully award to it my testimony, as being the best hand-book for the Masonic student now extant, and invaluable to the officers of the Lodge. JOHN M. PARKS, Grand Puissant of the . Grand Council of Select Masters of the State of Ohio. From Distinguished Officers o/32. * * * It is really the only complete MONITOR of the Rite in existence, As presiding officer of the Lodge of Perfection and Chapter of Rose Croix, in this City [Cii.'cinnati], I have long been in need, for practical use, cf just this work, and I thank Brother Carson, most hear.tily. far the valuable service he has rendered us of the Scotch Kite, in preparing it. The work is arranged according to the system adopted in the Northern Jurisdiction of the "United States, and the directions are so full and complete, as to leave nothing to be desired. Yours truly, GEO. HO ABLE Y, 32. * * * The work must prove an acceptable offering to the Fraternity, as well from the superior excellence of its mechanical execution, as from the intrinsic merits of its contents ; and every Mason should possess himself of a copy I am, with respect, yours truly, CALEB B. SMITH, Past Grand Master of Indiana, and Grand P. of Cincinnati Council of Royal and Select Masters METHODIST FAMILY MANUAL. By Kev. C. S. LOVELL. 12mo., embossed cloth. Containing the Doctrines and Moral Government of the Methodist Church, with Scripture proofs ; accompanied with appropriate questions, to which is added a systematic plan for studying the Bible, rules for the government of a Christian family, and a brief catechism upon experimental religion. This work supplies a want which has long been felt among the members of the Methodist Church. As a family manual, and aid to the means of grace and practical duties of Christianity, it is certainly a valuable work. It also contains the Disci- pline of the Church, with Scriptural proofs, and appropriate questions to each chap ter. It is certainly an excellent book for religious instruction and edification. We most heartily commend it to the Methodist public, and hope it may have a wide circulation and be made a blessing to all. APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. TEMPERANCE MUSICIAN. A choice selection of original and selected Temperance Music, arranged for one, two, three, or four voices, with an extensive variety of Popular Temperance Songs. 32mo. , From the Summit, (O.,) Beacon. This is a neat volume, well printed, and well bound, containing 256 pages. It is the best collection of temperance songs and music we have seen. Were a few copies secured in every town in Ohio, in the hands of the warm-hearted friends of the Maine Law, an element of power and interest would be added to temperance meetings, and a stronger impulse given to the onward inarch of the cold water army. From the Temperance Cliart. This will certainly become one of the most popular temperance song books which has been published in the country. We think it is, so far as we have examined, the best collection of songs we have seen. Some of them are exceedingly beautiful and affecting. From the Cleveland Commercial. This is a popular Temperance Song Book, designed for the people, and should bo in every family. We can recommend it to the patronage of all our temperance friends, as the best temperance songster, with music attached, we have seen. The music in this work is set according to Harrison's Numeral System, for two reasons : First, because it is so simple and scientific that all the people can easily learn it. Second, it is difficult to set music in a book of this size and shape, except in numerals. UNIVERSAL MUSICIAN, By A. D. FILLMORE, Author of Christian Psalmist, &c. ; containing all Systems of Notation. New Edition, enlarged. The title, "Universal Musician," is adopted because the work is designed for everybody. The style of expression is in common plain English, so that it may be adapted to the capacities of all, instead of simply pleasing the fancy of the few, who are already thoroughly versed in science and literature. Most of the music is written in Harrison's Numeral System of Notation, because it is the most intelligible of all the different systems extant ; and is therefore better adapted to the wants of community. Music would be far better understood and ippreciated by the people generally, if it were all written in this way. For it is more easily written, occupies less space, is more quickly learned, more clearly under- stood, is less liable to be forgotten, and will answer all common purposes better than any other. But the world is full of music, written in various systems, and the earner should acquire a knowledge of all the principal varieties of notation, so as to able to read all music. To afford this knowledge to all, is the object of the pres- ent effort. Poetry, which is calculated to please as well as instruct, has been carefully selected from many volumes already published, a#d from original compositions furnished expressly for this work. Much of the music is original, which is willingly submitted to the ordeal of public opinion. Some of it certainly possesses some merit, if wo may judge from the avidity with which it is pilfered and offered to the public by some, wculd-be, authors. , APPLEGATE & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. SPEECHES AND WRITINGS OF HON. THOMAS F. MARSHALL. As a popular Orator of unrivale'd powers and a writer of unsurpassed ability, Mr. Mar- shall stands foremost among the prominent men of his day. The great reputation he has acquired both as a speaker and writer, his long and active identity with and complete knowledge of the political and social history of our country, have created a wide-spread desire to "see his numerous speeches and writings, on various subjects, in a permanent form. We feel confident that any one who has heard Mr. Marshall speak or read his writings, will appreciate their power and admire their beauty. To meet this desire and to add a valuable contribution to the standard literature of our own country, we have spared neither pains nor expense to prepare the work in the highest style of the art. 'The work contains all of Mr. Marshall's finest efforts, since 1832. His able report on Banking and paper currency, his speech against JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, in Congress, his memorable Slavery Letters, the celebrated eulogy on EICHARD H. MENIFEE, the Louisville Journal letter, and his great TEMPERANCE SPEECH, will all be found in the work. Besides these, it contains his entire Old Guard articles, and many other productions of equal interest and ability. 1 vol. Octavo, with splendid Steel portrait of Mr. Marshall, Library binding. do do do do do half Antique. From the Frankfort. (Ky.) Commonwealth. It is not necessary to puff this work ; it will be sought by every man of literary taste in the country. It will prove a valuable contribution to our standard literature, and the fame of the author will go down to posterity as the purest of our American classics. From the Maysville (Ky.} Eagle. The work contains all those famous creations of genius that have rendered Mr. Marshal^ so remarkable as an orator and a man of genius, and is decidedly one of the most interest- ing books that has ever been published. From the Bowling Green (Ky.} Gazette. The reputation which Mr. Marshall has acquired as an eloquent orator and forcible writer, render this volume the object of almost universal desire. As a popular orator ho stands at the head of the class of American speakers, possessing great powers of elocution, ripe scholarship, and the highest order of intellect. From the Louisville Journal. "We presume that very few persons will decline taking this work. It will be found exceedingly brilliant and powerful. It is the production of one of the master minds of the nation. ^Remarkable as Mr. Marshall is with his humor and his wondrous flights of fancy, he is, we think, still more remarkable for his strong, deep sense and inexorable logic. CHAIN OF SACRED WONDERS. Or a connected view of Scripture Scenes and Incidents, from the Creation to the end of the last epoch. By Eev. S. A. LATTA, A. M., M. D. Illustrated with two steel plates, and a number of wood cuts. 1 vol. 8vo. cloth, marble edge. do do do library style. do do do embossed. do do do half antique. From the Cincinnati Daily Times. The publishing house of Applegate & Co. is entitled to great praise for issuing so many good and really valuable books, and so little of what is aptly termed "literary trash." The largest work ever issued this side the Alleghanies, was from the press of Applegate & Co., Clark's Commentaries, in several massive volumes. Dick's works have also been issued in a large and handsome volume by the same publishers. The volume mentioned above is a work full of good reading, by an accomplished and scholarly writer. It is well adapted to the Christian family circle, to Sabbath school and religious libraries. The various sketches are admirably conceived, and written in a style of simple purity which is very attractive. The design of the author is to attract the atten- tion of youth to the Bible, and with that view he has endeavored to make his work an instrument of 'iiiuch good. It is, indeed, an excellent book. AY U c 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. JUN121989 V ~ w J LD 21A-60m-10,'65 (F7763slO)476B General Library University of California Berkeley U.C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES CQEOflSSMbM M269723 ( THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY