- 
 
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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 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 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 (F7763slO)476B 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of California 
 
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 CQEOflSSMbM 
 
 
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