Parallel Lives: Volume 2

By Plutarch

Plutarch's Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans, commonly called Parallel Lives or Plutarch's Lives, is a series of biographies of famous men, arranged in tandem to illuminate their common moral virtues or failings. The surviving Parallel Lives, contain twenty-three pairs of biographies, each pair consisting of one Greek and one Roman, as well as four unpaired, single lives. It is a work of considerable importance, not only as a source of information about the individuals biographized, but also about the times in which they lived.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wilder Publications, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781633841413

Plutarch

Plutarch was a Greek biographer and essayist, known primarily for his Lives and Moralia. He is classified as a Middle Platonist. Plutarch’s surviving works were written in Greek, but intended for both Greek and Roman readers.

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Parallel Lives

—Volume II—

Translated from the Greek

with

notes and a life of plutarch.

by

AUBREY STEWART, M.A.,

Late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge;

and the late

GEORGE LONG, M.A.,

Formerly Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge

by Plutarch

SMK Books

Copyright © 2014 SMK Books

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

Manufactured in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

ISBN 978-1-63384-141-3

Table of Contents

Preface

Preface to the Civil Wars of Rome

Life of Pelopidas

Life of Marcellus

The Comparison of Pelopidas with Marcellus

Life of Aristeides

Life of Marcus Cato

Comparison of Aristeides and Cato

Life of Philopœmen

Life of Titus Flamininus

Comparison of Philopœmen and Titus

Life of Pyrrhus

Life of Caius Marius

Life of Lysander

Life of Sulla

Comparison of Lysander and Sulla

Life of Kimon

Life of Lucullus

Comparison of Kimon and Lucullus

Preface

No apologies are needed for a new edition of so favourite an author as Plutarch. From the period of the revival of classical literature in Europe down to our own times, his writings have done more than those of any other single author to familiarise us with the greatest men and the greatest events of the ancient world.

The great Duke of Marlborough, it is said, confessed that his only knowledge of English history was derived from Shakespeare’s historical plays, and it would not be too much to say that a very large proportion of educated men, in our own as well as in Marlborough’s times, have owed much of their knowledge of classical antiquity to the study of Plutarch’s Lives. Other writers may be read with profit, with admiration, and with interest; but few, like Plutarch, can gossip pleasantly while instructing solidly; can breathe life into the dry skeleton of history, and show that the life of a Greek or Roman worthy, when rightly dealt with, can prove as entertaining as a modern novel. No one is so well able as Plutarch to dispel the doubt which all schoolboys feel as to whether the names about which they read ever belonged to men who were really alive; his characters are so intensely human and lifelike in their faults and failings as well as in their virtues, that we begin to think of them as of people whom we have ourselves personally known.

His biographies are numerous and short. By this, he avoids one of the greatest faults of modern biographers, that namely of identifying himself with some one particular personage, and endeavouring to prove that all his actions were equally laudable. Light and shade are as necessary to a character as to a picture, but a man who devotes his energies for years to the study of any single person’s life, is insensibly led into palliating or explaining away his faults and exaggerating his excellencies until at last he represents him as an impossible monster of virtue. Another advantage which we obtain by his method is that we are not given a complete chronicle of each person’s life, but only of the remarkable events in it, and such incidents as will enable us to judge of his character. This also avoids what is the dreariest part of all modern biographies, those chapters I mean which describe the slow decay of their hero’s powers, his last illness, and finally his death. This subject, which so many writers of our own time seem to linger lovingly upon, is dismissed by Plutarch in a few lines, unless any circumstance of note attended the death of the person described.

Without denying that Plutarch is often inaccurate and often diffuse; that his anecdotes are sometimes absurd, and his metaphysical speculations not unfrequently ridiculous, he is nevertheless generally admitted to be one of the most readable authors of antiquity, while all agree that his morality is of the purest and loftiest type.

The first edition of the Greek text of Plutarch’s Lives appeared at Florence in the year 1517, and two years afterwards it was republished by Aldus. Before this, however, about the year 1470, a magnificent Latin version by various hands appeared at Rome. From this, from the Greek text, and also from certain MSS. to which he had access, Amyot in the year 1559 composed his excellent translation, of which it has been well said: Quoique en vieux Gaulois, elle a un air de fraicheur qui la fait rejeunir de jour en jour.

Amyot’s spirited French version was no less spiritedly translated by Sir Thomas North. His translation was much read and admired in its day; a modern reviewer even goes so far as to say that it is still beyond comparison the best version of Parallel Lives which the English tongue affords. Be this as it may, the world will ever be deeply indebted to North’s translation, for it is to Shakespeare’s perusal of that work that we owe ‘Coriolanus,’ ‘Antony and Cleopatra,’ and ‘Julius Caesar.’

North’s translation was followed by that known as Dryden’s. This work, performed by many different hands, is of unequal merit. Some Lives are rendered into a racy and idiomatic, although somewhat archaic English, while others fall far short of the standard of Sir Thomas North’s work. Dryden’s version has during the last few years been re-edited by A.H. Clough, Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford.

The translation by which Plutarch is best known at the present day is that of the Langhornes. Their style is certainly dull and commonplace, and is in many instances deserving of the harsh epithets which have been lavished upon it. We must remember, however, before unsparingly condemning their translation, that the taste of the age for which they wrote differed materially from that of our own, and that people who could read the ‘Letters of Theodosius and Constantia’ with interest, would certainly prefer Plutarch in the translation of the Langhornes to the simpler phrases of North’s or Dryden’s version. All events, comic or tragic, important or commonplace, are described with the same inflated monotony which was mistaken by them for the dignity of History. Yet their work is in many cases far more correct as a translation, and the author’s meaning is sometimes much more clearly expressed, than in Dryden’s earlier version. Langhorne’s Plutarch was re-edited by Archdeacon Wrangham in the year 1819.

In 1844, thirteen Lives were translated by that eminent scholar the late Mr. George Long; and it is by way of complement to these Lives that the present version was undertaken with his consent and his approval.

Those translated by Mr. Long were selected by him as illustrating a period of Roman history in which he was especially interested, and will therefore be found to be more fully annotated than the others. It has seemed to me unnecessary to give information in the notes which can at the present day be obtained in a more convenient form in Dr. Smith’s Classical Dictionary and Dictionary of Antiquities, many of the articles in which are written by Mr. Long himself. The student of classical literature will naturally prefer the exhaustive essays to be found in these works to any notes appended to Plutarch’s text, while to those who read merely for the story, the notes prove both troublesome and useless.

In deciding on the spelling of the Greek proper names, I have felt great hesitation. To make a Greek speak of Juno or Minerva seems as absurd as to make a Roman swear by Herakles or Ares. Yet both Greek and Roman divinities are constantly mentioned. The only course that seemed to avoid absolute absurdity appeared to me to be that which I have adopted, namely to speak of the Greek divinities by their Greek, and the Latin ones by their Latin names. In substituting a k for the more usual c, I have followed the example of Grote, who in his History spells all Greek names exactly as they are written, with the exception of those with which we are so familiar in their Latin form as to render this practically impossible; as for instance in the case of Cyprus or Corinth, or of a name like Thucydides, where a return to the Greek k would be both pedantic and unmeaning.

The text, which I have followed throughout, is that of C. Sintenis, Leipsic, 1873.

Aubrey Stewart.

Preface to the Civil Wars of Rome

Among the extant Lives of Plutarch there are thirteen Lives of Romans which belong to the most eventful period of Roman history. They are the lives of the brothers Tiberius and Caius Sempronius Gracchus, of Caius Marius, Lucius Cornelius Sulla, Quintus Sertorius, Marcus Licinius Crassus, Cneius Pompeius Magnus, Marcus Porcius Cato the Younger, Marcus Tullius Cicero, Lucius Licinius Lucullus, Caius Julius Caesar, Marcus Junius Brutus, and Marcus Antonius. From the year of the death of Tiberius Gracchus, B.C. 133, to the death of Marcus Antonius, B.C. 30, a period of about one hundred years, the Roman State was convulsed by revolutions which grew out of the contest between the People and the Nobility, or rather, out of the contests between the leaders of these two bodies. This period is the subject of Appian’s History of the Civil Wars of the Romans, in Five Books. Appian begins with the Tribunate and legislation of Tiberius Gracchus, from which he proceeds to the Dictatorship of Sulla, and then to the quarrels between Pompeius and Caesar, and Caesar’s Dictatorship and assassination. He then proceeds to the history of the Triumvirate formed after Caesar’s death by his great nephew Caius Julius Caesar Octavianus, Marcus Antonius, and Lepidus, the quarrels of the Triumviri, the downfall of Lepidus, who was reduced to the condition of a private person, and the death of Sextus Pompeius, the last support of the party in whose cause his father, Cneius Pompeius, lost his life. The remainder of this History, which is lost, carried the narration down to the quarrels of Octavianus and Marcus Antonius, which ended in the defeat of Antonius in the battle of Actium, B.C. 31, and his death in Egypt, B.C. 30. The victory over Antonius placed all the power in the hands of Octavianus, who, in the year B.C. 27, received from the Roman Senate the title of Augustus, or the Sacred, by which name he is commonly known as the first of the long series of Roman Emperors. He made himself, says Appian (Civil Wars, i. 5), like Caius Julius Caesar, and still more than Caesar, governor of his country and of all the nations under it, without needing either election or the popular votes, or any show of such things. After his government had subsisted for a long time, and been maintained with vigour, fortunate in all his measures, and feared, he left behind him descendants and successors who kept the power that he transmitted to them. In this way, after various civil commotions, the Roman State was restored to tranquillity, and the government became a Monarchy. And how this came about I have explained, and brought together all the events, which are well worth the study of those who wish to become acquainted with ambition of men unbounded, love of power excessive, endurance unwearied, and forms of suffering infinite. Thus, the historian’s object was to trace the establishment of the Imperial power in Rome back to its origin, to show that the contests of the rival heads of parties involved the State in endless calamities, which resulted in a dissolution of all the bonds that held society together, and rendered the assumption of supreme power by one man a healing and a necessary event.

As already observed, it happens that thirteen of Plutarch’s extant Lives are the lives of the most distinguished of the Romans who lived during this eventful period; and though Plutarch’s Lives severally are not histories of the times to which they respectively refer, nor collectively form a History of any given time, yet they are valuable as portraits of illustrious men, and help us to form a better judgment of those who make so conspicuous a figure in History.

Plutarch was a native of the town of Chaeroneia, in Boeotia; the times of his birth and death are not exactly known, but we learn from his own works that he was a young student at Delphi, in the thirteenth year of the reign of the Emperor Nero, A.D. 66. He visited both Italy and Rome, and probably resided at Rome for some time. He wrote his Life of Demosthenes, at least after his return to Chaeroneia: he says (Life of Demosthenes, c. 2), that he had not time to exercise himself in the Latin Language during his residence at Rome, being much occupied with public business, and giving lessons in philosophy. Accordingly it was late before he began to read the Latin writers; and we may infer from his own words that he never acquired a very exact knowledge of the language. He observes that it happened in his case, that in his study of the Latin writers he did not so much learn and understand the facts from the words, as acquire the meaning of the words from the facts, of which he had already some knowledge. We may perhaps conclude from this, that Plutarch wrote all his Roman lives in Chaeroneia, after he had returned there from Rome. The statement that Plutarch was the preceptor of the Emperor Trajan, and was raised to the consular rank by him, is not supported by sufficient evidence. Plutarch addressed to Trajan his Book of Apophthegms, or Sayings of Kings and Commanders; but this is all that is satisfactorily ascertained as to the connection between the Emperor and Philosopher. Trajan died A.D. 117.

The plan of Plutarch’s Biographies is briefly explained by himself in the introduction to the Life of Alexander the Great, where he makes an apology for the brevity with which he is compelled to treat of the numerous events in the Lives of Alexander and Caesar. ‘For,’ he says, ‘I do not write Histories, but Lives; nor do the most conspicuous acts of necessity exhibit a man’s virtue or his vice, but oftentimes some slight circumstance, a word, or a jest, shows a man’s character better than battles with the slaughter of tens of thousands, and the greatest arrays of armies and sieges of cities. Now, as painters produce a likeness by a representation of the countenance and the expression of the eyes, without troubling themselves about the other parts of the body, so I must be allowed to look rather into the signs of a man’s character, and thus give a portrait of his life, leaving others to describe great events and battles.’ The object then of Plutarch in his Biographies was a moral end, and the exhibition of the principal events in a man’s life was subordinate to this his main design; and though he may not always have adhered to the principle which he laid down, it cannot be denied that his view of what biography should be, is much more exact than that of most persons who have attempted this style of composition. The life of a statesman or of a general, when written with a view of giving a complete history of all the public events in which he was engaged, is not biography, but history. This extract from Plutarch will also in some measure be an apology for the want of historical order observable in many of his Lives. Though altogether deficient in that critical sagacity which discerns truth from falsehood, and distinguishes the intricacies of confused and conflicting statements, Plutarch has preserved in his Lives a vast number of facts which would otherwise have been unknown to us. He was a great reader, and must have had access to large libraries. It is said that he quotes two hundred and fifty writers, a great part of whose works are now entirely lost. (Penny Cyclopaedia, art. Plutarch, by the writer of this Preface.)

The lively portraitures of men drawn in Plutarch’s Lives have made them favourite reading in all ages. Whether Plutarch has succeeded in drawing the portraits true, we cannot always determine, because the materials for such a judgment are sometimes wanting. But when we can compare his Lives with other extant authorities, we must admit, that though he is by no means free from error as to his facts, he has generally selected those events in a man’s life which most clearly show his temper, and that on the whole, if we judge of a man by Plutarch’s measure, we shall form a just estimate of him. He generally wrote without any predilections or any prejudices. He tells us of a man’s good and bad acts, of his good and bad qualities; he makes no attempt to conceal the one or the other; he both praises and blames as the occasion may arise; and the reader leaves off with a mixed opinion about Plutarch’s Greeks and Romans, though the favourable or the unfavourable side always predominates. The benevolent disposition of Plutarch, and his noble and elevated character, have stamped themselves on all that he has written. A man cannot read these Lives without being the better for it: his detestation of all that is mean and disingenuous will be increased; his admiration of whatever is truthful and generous will be strengthened and exalted.

The translation of these Lives is difficult. Plutarch’s text is occasionally corrupted; and where it is not corrupted, his meaning is sometimes obscure. Many of the sentences are long and ill-constructed; the metaphors often extravagant; and the just connection of the parts is sometimes difficult to discover. Many single words which are or ought to be pertinent in Plutarch, and which go towards a description of character in general or of some particular act, can hardly be rendered by any English equivalent; and a translator often searches in vain for something which shall convey to the reader the exact notion of the original. Yet Plutarch’s narrative is lively and animated; his anecdotes are appropriately introduced and well told; and if his taste is sometimes not the purest, which in his age we could not expect it to be, he makes amends for this by the fulness and vigour of his expression. He is fond of poetical words, and they are often used with striking effect. His moral reflections, which are numerous, have the merit of not being unmeaning and tiresome, because he is always in earnest and has got something to say, and does not deal in commonplaces. When the reflection is not very profound, it is at least true; and some of his remarks show a deep insight into men’s character.

I have attempted to give Plutarch’s meaning in plain language; to give all his meaning, and neither more nor less. If I have failed in any case, it is because I could do no better. But, though I have not always succeeded in expressing exactly what I conceive to be the meaning of the original, I have not intentionally added to it or detracted from it. It may be that there are passages in which I have mistaken the original; and those who have made the experiment of rendering from one language into another, know that this will sometimes happen even in an easy passage. A difficult passage attracts more than usual of a translator’s attention, and if he fails there, it is either because the difficulty cannot be overcome, or because he cannot overcome it. Mere inadvertence or sleepiness may sometimes cause a translator to blunder, when he would not have blundered if any friend had been by to keep him awake.

The best thing that a man can do to avoid these and other errors is to compare his translation, when he has finished it, with some other. The translation which I have compared with mine is the German translation of Kaltwasser, Magdeburg, 1799, which is generally correct. Kaltwasser in his Preface speaks of the way in which he used the German translations of two of his predecessors, J. Christopher Kind, Leipzig, 1745-1754, and H. v. Schirach, 1776-1780, and some others. He says, These two translations, with the French translations above mentioned, I have duly used, for it is the duty of a translator to compare himself with his predecessors; but I lay my labour before the eyes of the public, without fearing that I shall be accused of copying or of close imitation. First of all, I carefully studied the text of my author and translated him as well as I could: then, and not before, I compared the labour of my predecessors, and where I found a more suitable expression or a happier turn, I made use of it without hesitation. In this way, every fault, every deviation of the old translators must be apparent; the most striking of them I have remarked on in the notes, but I have more frequently amended such things silently, as a comparison will show the reader. The translator has not compared his version with any English version. The translation of North, which has great merit in point of expression, is a version of Amyot’s French version, from which, however, it differs in some passages, where it is decidedly wrong and Amyot’s version is right. Indeed, it is surprising to find how correct this old French translation generally is. The translation of ‘Plutarch’s Lives from the Greek by several hands,’ was published at London in 1683-86. It was dedicated by Dryden to James Butler, the first Duke of Ormond, in a fulsome panegyric. It is said that forty-one translators laboured at the work. Dryden did not translate any of the Lives; but he wrote the Life of Plutarch which is prefixed to this translation. The advertisement prefixed to the translation passes under the name and character of the bookseller (Jacob Tonson), but, as Malone observes, it may from internal evidence be safely attributed to Dryden. The bookseller says, You have here the first volume of Plutarch’s Lives turned from the Greek into English; and give me leave to say, the first attempt of doing it from the originals. This is aimed at North’s version, of which Dryden remarks in his Life of Plutarch: As that translation was only from the French, so it suffered this double disadvantage; first, that it was but a copy of a copy, and that too but lamely taken from the Greek original; secondly, that the English language was then unpolished, and far from the perfection which it has since attained; so that the first version is not only ungrammatical and ungraceful, but in many places almost unintelligible. There is another English version, by the Langhornes, which has often been reprinted; there is an edition of it with notes by Wrangham. I have compared my translation carefully with the German of Kaltwasser, and sometimes with the French of Amyot, and I have thus avoided some errors into which I should have fallen. There are errors both in the versions of Amyot and Kaltwasser which I have avoided; but I may have fallen into others.

The translation of Kaltwasser contains some useful notes. Those which I have added to this translation are intended to explain so much as needs explanation to a person who is not much acquainted with Roman history and Roman usages; but they will also be useful to others. The notes of Kaltwasser have often reminded me of the passages where some note would be useful, and have occasionally furnished materials also. But as I have always referred to the original authorities, I do not consider it necessary to make more than this general acknowledgment. The notes added to this translation are all my own, and contain my own opinions and observations.

This translation has been made from the edition of C. Sintenis, Leipzig, 1839, and I have compared the text of Sintenis with that of G.H. Schaefer, Leipzig, 1826, which has been severely criticized: this edition contains, however, some useful notes. I have very seldom made any remarks on the Greek text, as such kind of remark would not have suited the plan and design of this version, which is not intended for verbal critics.

I shall explain by two brief extracts what is my main design in this version and in the notes, which must be my apology for not affecting a learned commentary, and my excuse to those who shall not find here the kind of remarks that are suitable to a critical edition of an ancient author. I have had another object than to discuss the niceties of words and the forms of phrases, a labour which is well in its place, if it be done well, but is not what needs to be done to such an author as Plutarch to render him useful. A man who was a great reader of Plutarch, a just and solid thinker above the measure of his age, and not surpassed in his way by any writer in our own, Montaigne, observes in his ‘Essay of the Education of Children’—Let him enquire into the manners, revenues, and alliances of princes, things in themselves very pleasant to learn, and very useful to know. In this conversing with men, I mean, and principally those who only live in the records of history, he shall by reading those books, converse with those great and heroic souls of former and better ages. ‘Tis an idle and vain study, I confess, to those who make it so, by doing it after a negligent manner, but to those who do it with care and observation, ‘tis a study of inestimable fruit and value; and the only one, as Plato reports, the Lacedaemonians reserved to themselves. What profit shall he not reap as to the business of men, by reading the Lives of Plutarch? But withal, let my governor remember to what end his instructions are principally directed, and that he do not so much imprint in his pupil’s memory the date of the ruin of Carthage, as the manners of Hannibal and Scipio; not so much where Marcellus died, as why it was unworthy of his duty that he died there. That he do not teach him so much the narrative part, as the business of history. The reading of which, in my opinion, is a thing that of all others we apply ourselves unto with the most differing and uncertain measures. North, in his address to the Reader, says: The profit of stories, and the praise of the Author, are sufficiently declared by Amiot, in his Epistle to the Reader: so that I shall not need to make many words thereof. And indeed if you will supply the defects of this translation, with your own diligence and good understanding: you shall not need to trust him, you may prove yourselves, that there is no prophane study better than Plutarch. All other learning is private, fitter for Universities than Cities, fuller of contemplation than experience, more commendable in students themselves, than profitable unto others. Whereas stories are fit for every place, reach to all persons, serve for all times, teach the living, revive the dead, so far excelling all other books, as it is better to see learning in Noblemen’s lives, than to read it in Philosophers’ writings.

George Long.

Life of Pelopidas

I. Cato the elder, speaking to some persons who were praising a man of reckless daring and audacity in war, observed that there is a difference between a man’s setting a high value on courage, and setting a low value on his own life—and rightly. For a daring soldier in the army of Antigonus, but of broken and ill health, being asked by the king the reason of his paleness, confessed that he was suffering from some secret disorder. When then the king, anxious for him, charged his physicians to use the greatest care in their treatment, if a cure were possible, at length this brave fellow, being restored to health, was no longer fond of peril and furious in battle, so that Antigonus reproved him, and expressed surprise at the change. The man made no secret of his reason, but answered: My, king, you have made me less warlike by freeing me from those miseries on account of which I used to hold my life cheap. And the Sybarite seems to have spoken to the same effect about the Spartans, when he said that they do no great thing by dying in the wars in order to escape from such labours and such a mode of life as theirs. However, no wonder if the Sybarites, effete with luxurious debauchery, thought men mad who despised death for love of honour and noble emulation; whereas the Lacedæmonians were enabled by their valour both to live and to die with pleasure, as the elegy shows, which runs thus:

’Twas not that life or death itself was good, That these heroic spirits shed their blood: This was their aim, and this their latest cry, ‘Let us preserve our honour, live or die.’

For neither is avoidance of death blameable, if a man does not cling to his life from dishonourable motives; nor is exposure to peril honourable, if it springs from carelessness of life. For this reason Homer always brings the most daring and warlike heroes into battle well and beautifully armed, and the Greek lawgivers punish the man who throws away his shield, but not him who throws away his sword or spear, showing that it is each man’s duty to take more care that he does not receive hurt himself, than to hurt the enemy, especially if he be the chief of an army or city.

II. For if, as Iphikrates defined it, the light troops resemble the hands, the cavalry the feet, the main body the breast and trunk, and the general the head, then it would appear that he, if he runs into danger and shows personal daring, risks not only his own life, but that of all those whose safety depends upon him; and vice versâ. Wherefore Kallikratidas, although otherwise a great man, yet did not make a good answer to the soothsayer; for when he begged him to beware of death, which was presaged by the sacrifices, he replied that Sparta had more men besides himself. No doubt, in fighting either by sea or land Kallikratidas only counted for one, but as a general, he combined in his own person the strength of all the rest, so that he by whose death so many perished, was indeed more than one. A better answer was that of old Antigonus, who, as he was about to begin a sea-fight off Andros, some one having said that the enemy’s fleet was the more numerous, asked, And for how many do you count me?—setting a high value, as is due, upon a skilful and brave leader, whose first duty is to keep safe him who preserves all the rest.

So Timotheus said well, when Chares was displaying to the Athenians the wounds on his body, and his shield pierced by a dart. Now I, said he, when I was besieging Samos, was quite ashamed if an arrow fell near me, thinking that I was exposing myself more boyishly than was fitting for the general and leader of so important a force. In cases where the personal risk of the general is of great moment to his army, then he must fight and expose himself without stint, and disregard those who say that a general should die of old age, or at any rate, when an old man. But where the gain is small in case of success, while failure ruins everything, no one demands that the work of the common soldier be performed at the risk of the general’s life.

These prefatory remarks occurred to me in writing the Lives of Pelopidas and Marcellus, great men who fell in a manner scarce worthy of themselves: for being both of them most stout in battle, and having each illustrated his country by splendid campaigns, against, too, the most terrible antagonists—the one, as we read, having routed Hannibal, who before was invincible, and the other having in a pitched battle conquered the Lacedæmonians, the ruling state by sea and land—yet they without any consideration endangered themselves and flung away their lives just at the time when there was special need for such men to live and command. And on this account I have drawn a parallel between their lives, tracing out the points of resemblance between them.

III. The family of Pelopidas, the son of Hippokles, was an honourable one at Thebes, as likewise was that of Epameinondas. Bred in great affluence, and having early succeeded to a splendid inheritance, he showed eagerness to relieve the deserving poor, that he might prove that he had become the master, not the servant of his riches. In most cases, Aristotle observes, men either do not use their wealth through narrow-mindedness, or else abuse it through extravagance, and the one class are always the slaves of their pleasures, the other of their gains.

Now, while all other persons gratefully made use of Pelopidas’s liberality and kindness, Epameinondas alone could not be induced to share his wealth; he thereupon shared the other’s poverty, priding himself on simplicity of dress and plainness of food, endurance of fatigue, and thoroughness in the performance of military service; like Kapaneus, in Euripides, who had plenty of wealth, but was far from proud on account of his wealth, for he felt ashamed to be seen using more bodily luxuries than the poorest Theban citizen. Epameinondas, whose poverty was hereditary, made it lighter and more easily borne by the practice of philosophy, and by choosing from the beginning a single life; while Pelopidas made a brilliant marriage and had children born to him, yet, in spite of this, diminished his fortune by disregard of money-making and by giving up all his time to the service of his country. And when his friends blamed him, and said that he was treating lightly a necessary of life, the possession of money, Necessary, indeed, he answered, for Nikodemus here, pointing to a man who was a cripple and blind.

IV. They were both alike in nobleness of spirit, save that Pelopidas took more pleasure in bodily exercise, and Epameinondas in learning, and that the one in his leisure time frequented the palæstra and the hunting field, while the other would listen to and discuss philosophy. And though they have both many titles to glory, yet judicious persons think nothing so much to their credit as that their friendship should have remained from beginning to end unimpaired through so many important crises, campaigns, and administrations. For any one who considers the administrations of Aristeides and Themistokles, and Kimon and Perikles, and Nikias and Alkibiades, how full they were of mutual enmity, distrust, and jealousy, and then contrasts them with the kindness and respect shown by Pelopidas to Epameinondas, will pronounce with truth these men to have really been colleagues in government and war rather than those who were constantly struggling to get the better of one another instead of the enemy. The true cause of this was their virtue, guided by which they sought no glory or gain for themselves from their deeds, from which envious rivalry always results, but both, inflamed by a noble desire to see their country reach its climax of power and renown in their own time, used one another’s successes for this purpose as if they were their own. Not but what most people think that their closest friendship arose from the campaign of Mantinea, which they made with a contingent sent from Thebes to serve with the Lacedæmonians, who were then their friends and allies. Stationed together in the ranks, and fighting against the Arcadians, when the wing of the Lacedæmonian army in which they were gave way, and many took to flight, they closed up together and beat off their assailants. Pelopidas, having received seven wounds in front, fell down upon a heap of slain, friends and enemies together; but Epameinondas, though he thought him desperately hurt, ran forward and stood in defence of his body and arms, risking his life alone against a multitude, determined to die rather than leave Pelopidas lying there. He too was in evil plight, with a spear wound in the breast, and a sword-cut on the arm, when Agesipolis, the Spartan king, came to the rescue from the other wing, and most unexpectedly saved the lives of both.

V. After this, the Spartans behaved towards Thebes outwardly as friends and allies, but really viewed with suspicion the spirit and strength of that state. They especially disliked the club presided over by Ismenias and Androkleides, of which Pelopidas was a member, as being of democratic and revolutionary principles. Consequently Archias and Leontidas and Philippus, men of the aristocratic party, wealthy and unscrupulous, persuaded Phœbidas, a Laconian who was passing through the town with an armed force, to seize the Kadmeia by surprise, and, banishing the party that opposed them, establish an aristocratic oligarchy which would be subservient to Sparta.

He was persuaded to do this, and attacked the unsuspecting Thebans during the feast of Thesmophoria. When he gained possession of the height, Ismenias was seized and conveyed to Lacedæmon, and there not long afterwards made away with. Pelopidas, Pherenikus, and Androkleides, with many others, went into exile and were outlawed by proclamation. Epameinondas stayed at home disregarded, not being thought to be a man of action, because of his philosophical habits, nor a man of any power, because of his poverty.

VI. When the Lacedæmonians removed Phœbidas from his command and fined him a hundred thousand drachmas, but nevertheless held the Kadmeia with a garrison, all the other Greeks wondered at their inconsistency, in punishing the doer but approving of the deed; but the Thebans, who had lost their old constitution and were now held in bondage by the party of Archias and Leontidas, had lost all hope of release from their tyrants, who they perceived were merely acting as a guard to the Spartan supremacy in Greece, and therefore could not be put a stop to, unless their enterprise by sea and land could also be checked. However, Leontidas and his party, learning that the exiles were living at Athens, and were popular with the people there, and respected by the upper classes, began to plot against them, and by sending thither men who were unknown to the exiles, they killed Androkleides by stratagem, but failed with the others. There came also despatches from Lacedæmon to the Athenians, ordering them not to take them in nor to meddle in the matter, but to banish the exiles, on the ground that they had been proclaimed to be public enemies by their allies. But the Athenians, who besides their natural and innate kindness were returning a debt of gratitude to the Thebans, who had been main instruments in the re-establishment of their government, and had decreed that if an Athenian should march in arms against the tyrants through Bœotia, no Bœotian should see or hear him, did the Theban exiles no harm.

VII. Now Pelopidas, although one of the youngest of the exiles, yet used to encourage each of them separately, and would make speeches to them all, pointing out that it was both dishonourable and wicked for them to endure to see their country enslaved and garrisoned by foreigners, and, caring only to save their own lives, to shelter themselves behind decrees of the Athenians, and to pay servile court to the orators who had influence with the people. Rather was it, he urged, their duty to run the greatest risk, taking pattern by the courage and patriotism of Thrasybulus, so that, as he once, starting from Thebes, drove out the thirty tyrants from Athens, they also in their turn, starting from Athens, might set Thebes free. When then he prevailed with these arguments, they sent secretly to Thebes to communicate their determination to such of their friends as were left there. They agreed, and Charon, who was the leading man among them, offered his house for their reception, and Phillidas proceeded to act as secretary to the polemarchs, Archias and Philippus. Epameinondas had long been instilling feelings of patriotism into the youth of Thebes; for in the gymnasia he would bid them lay hold of the Lacedæmonians and wrestle with them, and then seeing them pluming themselves on their success, he would upbraid them, telling them that they ought rather to feel ashamed at being, through their own cowardice, in bondage to men whom they so greatly excelled in strength.

VIII. When a day was fixed on for the attempt, the exiles determined that Pherenikus, with the main body, should remain in the Thriasian plain, while a few of the youngest men ran the risk of entering the city; and if anything were to befall these men, the others would take care that neither their parents nor their children should want for necessaries. First Pelopidas volunteered for the attempt, then Mellon and Damokleides and Theopompus, men of the first families, faithful friends to one another, and ever rivals in glory and bravery. Having made up a party of twelve in all, and embraced those who were to stay, and sent a messenger before them to Charon, they set out, dressed in short cloaks, with hounds and carrying stakes for hunting nets, so that no one whom they met on the road might suspect them, but that they might seem to be merely ranging about the country and hunting. When their messenger reached Charon, and told him that they were on their way, Charon did not, even now that the danger was close to him, falter in his determination, but acted like an honourable man, and received them into his house. But one Hipposthenides, not a bad man, but one who loved his country and favoured the exiles, yet proved wanting in that audacity which this emergency, a hazardous one indeed, and the attempt they had in hand, required.

Apparently the importance of the issue with which he was dealing turned him dizzy; he with difficulty grasped the idea that, trusting in the desperate hopes of exiles, these men were in some fashion about to attempt to overthrow the Lacedæmonian government in Thebes, and the power of Sparta. He went quietly home, and sent one of his friends to Mellon and Pelopidas, bidding them put off their design for the present, to go back to Athens, and await a better opportunity. Chlidon was the name of the messenger, and he hurriedly went to his own house, and, leading out his horse, asked for his bridle. His wife was at her wit’s end, as she had it not to give him, but she said that she had lent it to a neighbour. Hereupon there was a quarrel, and words of ill omen were used, for his wife said that she wished it might be a bad journey for him, and for those that sent him; so that Chlidon, having wasted a great part of the day in this squabble, and also drawing a bad augury from what had happened, gave up his journey altogether, and betook himself to something else. So near was this greatest and most glorious of his adventures of missing its opportunity at its very outset.

IX. Now Pelopidas and his party changed their clothes with country people, and separating, came into the city by different ways while it was still daylight. There was a strong wind, and the weather was snowy, so that they were the less noticed, as most people had betaken themselves to their houses on account of the storm; but those who were in the plot met them as they entered, and brought them to Charon’s house. With the exiles, they amounted to forty-eight in all.

As to their oppressors, Phillidas the secretary, who had been working with the exiles and knew all their plans, having long before invited Archias and his friends to a wine party to meet certain courtesans, intended to endeavour to hand them over to their assailants in as enervated and intoxicated a condition as possible. However before they were very far gone in liquor a rumour was brought to their ears, which, although true, was without confirmation and very vague, to the effect that the exiles were concealed in the city. Though Phillidas endeavoured to change the subject, still Archias sent one of his servants to Charon, ordering him to come instantly. Now it was evening, and Pelopidas and his party were preparing themselves, in the house, and had already got their corslets on, and had girt on their swords. Suddenly, a knock was heard at the door. One of them ran out, and hearing the servant say that Charon had been sent for by the polemarchs, he in great trepidation brought the news to the rest. At once it occurred to all that the plot had been betrayed, and that they all were lost, without even having done anything worthy of their courage. Yet they agreed that Charon should comply with the summons and that he should unsuspiciously present himself before the Spartan chiefs. He was a man of courage, and slow to lose heart, but now he was panic-stricken and terrified lest when so many brave citizens lost their lives, some suspicion of treachery might rest on himself. So, just when he was going, he brought his son from the women’s apartments, a boy still, but in beauty and strength surpassing all of his own age, and handed him over to Pelopidas’s party, bidding them treat him as an enemy and show no mercy, if they should find him guilty of any deceit or treachery. Many of them shed tears at the feeling shown by Charon, and his noble spirit, and all felt shame, that he should think any of them so base and so affected by their present danger, as to suspect him or even to blame him, and they begged him not to mix up his son with them, but put him out of the way of the coming stroke, that he might be saved and escape from the tyrants, and some day return and avenge his father and his friends. But Charon refused to take away his son, for what life, he asked, or what place of safety could be more honourable to him than an easy death with his father and so many friends? After praying and embracing them all, and bidding them be of good cheer, he went away, taking great pains to adopt a look and tone of voice as different as possible to that of a conspirator.

X. When he came to the door, Archias and Philippus met him and said, Charon, I have heard that some people have come here, and are concealed in the city, and that some of the citizens are in league with them. Charon was at first disconcerted, but then enquired who these persons might be, and who they were that gave them shelter. Seeing then that Archias knew nothing for certain, he perceived that the news did not come from any one who knew the truth. Take care, said he, that this be not a mere idle rumour that is alarming you. However, I will make due enquiries; for we ought not to disregard anything. Phillidas, who was present, expressed his approval of this, and carrying Archias back again plied him with liquor, prolonging his debauch by holding out the expectation of the women.

Now when Charon returned to his house, he found the conspirators there prepared to fight, not expecting to survive or to win the day, but to die gloriously and kill as many of their enemies as possible. He told Pelopidas’s party the truth, and made up some story about Archias to satisfy the others. This storm was just blown over when Fortune sent a second upon them. A messenger came from Athens, from Archias the hierophant to his namesake Archias the Spartan, whose guest and friend he was, bearing a letter which contained no vague and conjectural suspicion, but a detailed account of all that was being done, as was afterwards discovered. Now the messenger, when brought before Archias who was drunk, gave him the letter, and said, He who sent you this letter bade you read it instantly, for he said it was written about most serious matters. Archias laughing, said, Serious matters to-morrow. He took the letter and placed it under the pillow on which he rested, and again listened to Phillidas about what they were talking of before. This story, handed down in the form of a proverb, is current among the Greeks even now.

XI. As the hour for the attempt seemed now to have arrived, they sallied forth, in two bodies: the one, under Pelopidas and Damokleides, to attack Leontidas and Hypates, who lived near one another, while the other, under Charon and Mellon, went to Archias and Philippus, with women’s gowns over their steel corslets, and their faces concealed by thick wreaths of fir and pine wood; and so when first they entered the door of the dining-room they caused great applause and disturbance, as the guests imagined that the long-expected ladies had at length come. They looked carefully round the party, and having ascertained who each of the guests were, they drew their swords, and made for Archias and Philippus. When they thus betrayed themselves, Phillidas persuaded some few of the guests to remain quiet, but the rest, who rose and tried to assist the polemarchs, were easily disposed of on account of their drunken condition.

The task of Pelopidas and his party was a harder one; for they went to attack Leontidas, a sober and brave man, and, finding his house shut up, for he was already asleep, they knocked for some time without rousing any one. At length the servant heard them and came and drew back the bolt of the door; then, as soon as the leaves of the door yielded they burst in in a