Chapter XIV: Book IX: Question 1. Concerning verses fitly applied, and the (3)

16. But, besides this, they must beware of the suggestions of kindred, servants, or even wives, that may work much in a vain-glorious mind. Your brother, say they, is the great man of action, whom the people honor and admire; but nobody comes near or regards you. Now a man that well understood himself would answer, I have indeed a brother that is a plausible man in the world, and the greatest part of his honor I have a right to. For Socrates said that he would rather have Darius for his friend than a Daric. But to a prudent and ingenious brother, it would be as great a satisfaction to see his brother an excellent orator, a person of great wealth or authority, as if he had been any or all these himself. And thus especially may that trouble and discontent, that arises from the great odds that are betwixt brethren, be mitigated. But there are other differences that happen amongst ill-constructed brothers in respect of their age. For, whilst the elder justly claim the privilege of pre-eminence and authority over the younger, they become troublesome and uneasy to them; and the younger, growing pert and refractory, begin to slight and contemn the elder. Hence it is that the younger, looking upon themselves as hated and curbed, decline and stomach their admonitions. The elder again, being fond of superiority, are jealous of their brothers’ advancement, as though it tended to lessen them. Therefore, as we judge of a kindness that it ought to be valued more by the party obliged than by him who bestows it, so, if the elder would be persuaded to set less by his seniority and the younger to esteem it more, there would be no supercilious slighting and contemptuous carriage betwixt them. But, seeing it is fitting the elder should take care of them, lead, and instruct them, and the younger respect, observe, and follow them; it is likewise convenient that the elder’s care should carry more of familiarity in it, and that he should act more by persuasion than command, being readier to express much satisfaction and to applaud his brother when he does well than to reprove and chastise him for his faults. Now the younger’s imitation should be free from such a thing as angry striving. For unprejudiced endeavors in following another speak the esteem of a friend and admirer, the other the envy of an antagonist. Whence it is that those who, out of love to virtue, desire to be like their brother are beloved; but those again who, out of a stomaching ambition, contend to be equal with them meet with answerable usage. But above all other respects due from the younger to the elder, that of observance is most commendable, and occasions the return of a strong affection and equal regard. Such was the obsequious behavior of Cato to his elder brother Caepio all along from their childhood, that, when they came to be men, he had so much overcome him with his humble and excellent disposition, and his meek silence and attentive obedience had begot in him such a reverence towards him, that Caepio neither spake nor did any thing material without him. It is recorded that, when Caepio had sealed some writing of depositions, and his brother coming in was against it, he called for the writing and took off his seal, without so much as asking Cato why he did suspect the testimony. The reverence that Epicurus’s brothers showed him was likewise remarkable, and well merited by his good will and affectionate care for them. They were so especially influenced by him in the way of his philosophy, that they began betimes to entertain a high opinion of his accomplishments, and to declare that there was never a wiser man heard of than Epicurus. If they erred, yet we may here observe the obliging behavior of Epicurus, and the return of their passionate respects to him. And amongst later philosophers, Apollonius the Peripatetic convinced him who said honor was incommunicable, by raising his younger brother Sotion to a higher degree of eminence than himself. Amongst all the good things I am bound to Fortune for, I have that of a kind and affectionate brother Timon, which cannot be unknown to any who have conversed with me, and especially those of my own family.

17. There are yet other disturbances that brothers near the same age ought to be warned of; they are but small indeed at present, but they are frequent and leave a lasting grudge, such as makes them ready upon all occasions to fret and exasperate one another, and conclude at last in implacable hatred and malice. For, having once begun to fall out in their sports, and to differ about little things, like the feeding and fighting of cocks and other fowl, the exercises of children, the hunting of dogs, the racing of horses, it comes to pass that they have no government of themselves in greater matters, nor the power to restrain a proud and contentious humor. So the great men among the Grecians in our time, disagreeing first about players and musicians, afterward about the bath in Aedepsus, and again about rooms of entertainment, from contending and opposing one another about places, and from cutting and turning water-courses, they were grown so fierce and mad against one another, that they were dispossessed of all their goods by a tyrant, reduced to extreme poverty, and put to very hard shifts. In a word, so miserably were they altered from themselves, that there was nothing of the same but their inveterate hatred remaining in them. Wherefore there is no small care to be taken by brothers in subduing their passions and preventing quarrels about small matters, yielding rather for peace’s sake, and taking greater pleasure in indulging than crossing and conquering one another’s humors. For the ancients accounted the Cadmean victory to be no other than that between the brothers at Thebes, esteeming that the worst and basest of victories. But you will say, Are there not some things wherein men of mild and quiet dispositions may have occasion to dissent from others? There are, doubtless; but then they must take care that the main difference be betwixt the things themselves, and that their passions be not too much concerned. But they must rather have a regard to justice, and as soon as they have referred the controversy to arbitrament, immediately discharge their thoughts of it, for fear too much ruminating leave a deep impression of it in the mind, and render it hard to be forgotten. The Pythagoreans were imitable for this, that, though no nearer related than by mere common discipline and education, if at any time in a passion they broke out into opprobrious language, before the sun set they gave one another their hands, and with them a discharge from all injuries, and so with a mutual salutation concluded friends. For as a fever attending an inflamed sore threatens no great danger to the body, but, if the sore being healed the fever stays, it appears then to be a distemper and to have some deeper cause; so, when among brothers upon the ending of a difference all discord ceases betwixt them, it is an argument that the cause lay in the matter of difference only, but, if the discord survive the decision of the controversy, it is plain that the pretended matter served only for a false scar, drawn over on purpose to hide the cause of an incurable wound.

18. It is worth the while at present to hear an account of a dispute between two foreign brothers, not concerning a little patch of land, nor a few servants or cattle, but no less than the kingdom of Persia. When Darius was dead, some were for Ariamenes’s succeeding to the crown as being eldest son; others were for Xerxes, who was born to Darius of Atossa, the daughter of Cyrus, in the time of his reign over Persia. Ariamenes therefore came from Media in no hostile posture, but very peaceably, to hear the matter determined. Xerxes being there used the majesty and power of a king. But when his brother was come, he laid down his crown and other royal ornaments, went and meeting greeted him. And sending him presents, he gave a charge to his servants to deliver them with these words: With these presents your brother Xerxes expresses the honor he has for you; and, if by the judgment and suffrage of the Persians I be declared king, I place you next to myself. Ariamenes replied: I accept your gifts, but presume the kingdom of Persia to be my right. Yet for all my younger brethren I shall have an honor, but for Xerxes in the first place. The day of determining who should reign being come, the Persians made Artabanus brother to Darius judge. Xerxes excepting against him, confiding most in the multitude, his mother Atossa reproved him, saying: Why, son, are you so shy of Artabanus, your uncle, and one of the best men amongst the Persians? And why should you dread the trial, where the worst you can fear is to be next the throne, and to be called the king of Persia’s brother? Xerxes at length submitting, after some debate Artabanus adjudged the kingdom to Xerxes. Ariamenes presently started up, and went and showed obeisance to his brother, and taking him by the hand, placed him in the throne. And from that time, being placed himself by Xerxes next in the kingdom, he continued the same affection to him, insomuch that, for his brother’s honor engaging himself in the naval fight at Salamis, he was killed there. And this may serve for a clear and unquestionable instance of true kindness and greatness of mind.

Antiochus’s restless ambition after a crown was as much to be condemned; but still we may admire this in him, that it did not totally extinguish natural affection and destroy the love of a brother. He went to war with his brother Seleucus for the kingdom, himself being the younger brother, and having the assistance of his mother. In the durance of which war Seleucus joins battle with the Galatians and is defeated; being not heard of for a time, he is supposed to be slain and his whole army to be slaughtered by the enemy. Antiochus, understanding it, put off his purple, went into mourning, caused his palace to be shut up, and retired to lament the death of his brother. But, within a short time after, hearing that his brother was safe and raising new forces, he went and offered sacrifices for joy, and commanded his subjects to do the like and to crown themselves with garlands. But the Athenians, though they made a ridiculous story about a falling out amongst the Deities, compensated for the absurdity pretty well in striking out the second day of their month Boedromion, because upon that day Neptune and Minerva were at variance. And why should not we cancel out of our memories, as an unhappy day and no more to be spoken of, that wherein we have differed with any of our family or relations? But rather, far be it from us that the feuds of that day should bury the memory of all that happier time wherein we were educated and conversed together. For, except nature has bestowed those virtues of meekness and patience upon us in vain and to no purpose, we have certainly the greatest reason to exercise them towards our intimate friends and kindred. Now the acknowledgments of the offender and the begging pardon for the crime express a kind and amicable nature no less than the remitting of it. Wherefore it is not for us to slight the anger of those whom we have incensed through our folly, neither should they be so implacable as to refuse an humble submission; but rather, where we have done the wrong, we should endeavor to prevent a distaste by the earliest and humblest acknowledgments and impetrations of pardon, and where we have received any, to be as ready and free in the forgiving of it. Euclides, Socrates’s auditor, was famous in the schools for his mild return to his raving brother, whom he heard bellow out threats against him after this manner: Let me perish, if I be not revenged on you. He answered: And let me perish, if I do not prevail with you to desist from this passion, and to let us be as good friends as ever we were. This Euclides spake; but what king Eumenes did was an act of meekness seldom to be paralleled, and never yet outdone. For Perseus king of Macedon, being his great enemy, had engaged some persons to attempt the killing him. In order to which barbarous act they lay in wait for him at Delphi, and, when they perceived him going from the sea toward the Oracle, came behind him and set upon him with great stones, wounding him in the head and neck, till reeling with his hurt he fell down and was supposed dead. The rumor of this action dispersed every way, and some friends and servants of his coming to Pergamus, who were the amazed spectators of the supposed murder, brought the news. Whereupon Attalus, Eumenes’s eldest brother, a well-tempered man and one that had showed the greatest affection and respect to his brother, was proclaimed king, and not only assumed the crown, but married his deceased brother’s queen, Stratonica. But intelligence coming a while after that Eumenes was alive and coming home, he presently laid aside the crown, and putting on his usual habiliments, went with the rest of the guard to meet and attend him. Eumenes received him with the most affectionate embrace, and saluted the queen with honorable respect and much endearment. And not long after, at his death, he was so free from passion or jealousy against his brother, that he bequeathed to him both his crown and his queen. The return of Attalus to his brother’s kindness was ingenuous and very remarkable. For after his brother’s death he took no care to advance his own children, though he had many, but provided especially for the education of Eumenes’s son, and when he came to age, placed the crown upon his head, and saluted him with the title of king. But Cambyses, being disturbed only with a dream that his brother was like to reign over Asia, without any enquiry after farther evidence or ground for his jealousy, caused him to be put to death. Whereupon the succession went out of Cyrus’s family into the line of Darius, a prince who understood how to share the management of his affairs and even his regal authority not merely with his brothers, but also with his friends.

19. Again, this rule is to be observed, that, whenever any difference happens betwixt brothers, during the time of strangeness especially they hold a correspondence with one another’s friends, but by all means avoid their enemies. The Cretans are herein very observable; who, being accustomed to frequent skirmishes and fights, nevertheless, as soon as they were attacked by a foreign enemy, were reconciled and went together. And that was it which they commonly called Syncretism. For there are some who, like waters running among loose and chinky grounds, overthrow all familiarity and friendship; enemies to both parties, but especially bent upon the ruining of him whose weakness exposes him most to danger. For every sincere substantial friend joins in affection with one that approves himself such to him. And you shall observe, on the other hand, that the most inveterate and pernicious enemy contributes the poison of his ill-nature to heighten the passion of an angry brother. Therefore as the cat, in Aesop, out of pretended kindness asked the sick hen how she did, and she answered, The better if you were further off; after the same manner one would answer an incendiary that throws in words to breed discord, and to that end pries into things that are not to be spoken of, saying: I have no controversy with my brother nor he with me, if neither of us shall hearken to such sycophants as you are. I cannot understand why—seeing it is commonly held convenient for those who have tender eyes and a weak sight to shun those objects that are apt to make a strong reflection—the rule should not hold good in morals, and why those whom we would imagine sick of the trouble of fraternal quarrels and contentions should rather seem to take pleasure in them, and even seek the company of those who will only excite them the more and make all worse. How much more prudential a course would they take in avoiding the enemies of their offended brethren, and rather conversing with their relations and friends or even with their wives, and discovering their grievances to them frankly and with plainness of speech! But some are of that scrupulous opinion, that brothers walking together must not suffer a stone to lie in the way betwixt them, and are very much concerned if a dog happen to run betwixt them; and many such things, being looked upon as ominous, discompose and terrify them. Whereas none of them all any way tends to the breaking of friendship or the causing of dissension; but they are not in the least aware that men of snarling dispositions, base detractors, and instigators of mischief, whom they improvidently admit into their society, are the things that do them the greatest hurt.

20. Therefore (this discourse suggesting one thing after another) Theophrastus said well: If there ought to be all things common amongst friends, why should not the best of those things, their friends themselves, be communicated? And this is advice that cannot be too soon tendered to brethren, for their separate acquaintance and conversation conduce to the estranging them from one another. For those who affect divers friends will be apt to delight in them so much as to emulate them, and will therefore be easily drawn and persuaded by them; for friendships have their distinctive marks and manners, and there is no greater argument of a different genius and disposition than the choice of different friends. Wherefore neither the common table nor the common recreations nor any other sort of intimacy comprehends so much of amity betwixt brothers, as to be united in their interest and to have the same common friends and enemies; for ordinary friendship suffers neither calumnies nor clashings, but if there be any anger or discontent, honest and impartial friends make an end of it. For as tin unites and solders up broken brass, being put to the ends and attempered to the nature of the broken pieces; so it is the part of a friend betwixt two brothers, to suit and accommodate himself to the humors of both, that he may confirm and secure their friendship. But those of different and uncomplying tempers are like improper notes in music, that serve only to spoil the consort, and offend the ear with a harsh noise. It is a question therefore whether Hesiod was in the right or not when he said:

Let not thy friend become thy brother’s peer.[29]

For one of an even behavior, that freely communicates himself between both, may by his interest in both contract a firm and happy tie and engagement of love between brothers. But Hesiod, it seems, spoke of those he suspected,—the greatest part and the worst sort of friends,—men of envious and selfish designs. He is wise who avoids such friends; and if in the mean time he divide his kindness equally between a true friend and a brother, let him do it with this reserve always, that the brother have the preference in magistracy and the management of public affairs, that he have the greater respect shown him in invitations and in contracting acquaintance with great persons, and in any thing that looks honorable and great in the eyes of the people, that the pre-eminence be given to Nature; for in these instances to prefer a friend does him not so much credit as that base and unworthy action of lessening and slighting a brother does the vilifying brother disgrace. But several have given their opinions in this thing. That of Menander is very well,

No one who loves will bear to be contemned.

This may remind brothers to preserve a tender regard to one another, and not to presume that Nature will overcome all their slights and disdain. A horse naturally loves a man, and a dog his master; but, if they are neglected in what is fitting and necessary for them, they will grow strange and unmanageable. The body, that is so intimately united to the soul, if the soul suspend a careful influence from it, will not be forward to assist it in its operations; it may rather spoil and cross them.

21. Now as the kind regards of brother to brother are highly commendable, so may they be expressed to the greater advantage, when he confines them not wholly to his person, but pays them, as occasion serves, rather by reflection to his kindred and such as retain to him; when he maintains a kind and complaisant humor amidst all contingencies, when he obliges the servile part of the family with a courteous and affable carriage, when he is grateful to the physician and good friends for the safe recovery of his brother, and is ready to go upon any expedition or service for him. Again, it is highly commendable in him to have the highest esteem and honor for his brother’s wife, reputing and honoring her as the most sacred of all his brother’s sacred treasures, and thus to do honor to him; condoling with her when she is neglected, and appeasing her when she is angered; if she have a little offended, to intercede and sue for her peace; if there have been any private difference between himself and his brother, to make his complaint before her in order to a reconcilement. But especially let him be much troubled at his brother’s single state; or, if he be married, at his want of children. If not married, let him follow him with arguments and persuasions, to teaze him with rebukes and reproaches, and to do every thing that may incline him to enter into a conjugal state. When he has children, let him express his affection and respects to both parents with the greater ardency. Let him love the children equally with his own, but be more favorable and indulgent to them, that, if it chance that they commit some of their youthful faults, they may not run away and hide themselves among naughty acquaintances through fear of their parents’ anger, but may have in their uncle a recourse and refuge, where they will be admonished lovingly and will find an intercessor to make their excuse and get their pardon. So Plato reclaimed his nephew Speusippus, that was far gone in idleness and debauchery; the young man, impatient of his parents’ reprehensions, ran away from them, who were more impatient of his extravagancies. His uncle expressed nothing of disturbance at all this, but continued calm and free from passion; whereupon Speusippus was seized with an extraordinary shame, and from that time became an admirer of both his uncle and his philosophy. Many of Plato’s friends blamed him that he had not instructed the youth; he made answer, that he instructed him by his life and conversation, from which he might learn, if he pleased, the difference betwixt ill and virtuous actions. The father of Aleuas the Thessalian, looking upon his son as of a fierce and injurious nature, kept him under with a great deal of severity, but his uncle received him with as great kindness. When therefore the Thessalians sent some lots to the oracle at Delphi, to enquire by them who should be their king, his uncle stole in one lot privately in the name of Aleuas; the priestess answered from the oracle, that Aleuas should be king. His father being surprised averred that there was never a lot thrown in for Aleuas that he knew of; at last all concluded that some mistake was committed in putting down the names, whereupon they sent again to enquire of the oracle. The priestess, confirming her first words, answered:

I mean the youth with reddish hair,
Whom dame Archedice did bear.

Thus Aleuas was by the oracle, through his uncle’s kind policy, declared king; by which means he surmounted all his ancestors, and advanced his family into a splendid condition. For it is prudence in a brother, when he beholds with joy the brave and worthy actions of his nephews growing great and honorable by their own deserts, to prompt and encourage them on by congratulation and applause. For to praise his own son may be absurd and offensive, but to commend the good actions of a brother’s son, is an excellent thing, and one which proceeds from no self-interest, nor any other principle but a true veneration for virtue. Now the very name of uncle (θεῖος) intimates that mutual beneficence and friendship that ought to be between him and his nephews. Besides this, we have a precedent from those that are of a sublimer make and nature than ourselves. Hercules, who was the father of sixty-eight sons, had a brother’s son that was as dear to him as any of his own; and even to this time Hercules and his nephew Iolaus have in many places one common altar betwixt them, and share in the same adorations. He is called literally Hercules’s assistant. And when his brother Iphicles was slain in a battle at Lacedaemon, in his exceeding grief he left the whole of Peloponnesus. Also Leucothea, her sister being dead, took her infant, nursed him up, and consecrated him with herself among the deities; from whence the Roman matrons, upon the festivals of Leucothea (whom they call also Matuta) have a custom of nursing their sisters’ children instead of their own, during the time of the festival.

WHEREFORE THE PYTHIAN PRIESTESS NOW CEASES TO DELIVER HER ORACLES IN VERSE.

I. BASILOCLES, PHILINUS.

II. PHILINUS, DIOGENIANUS, THEO, SERAPIO, BOETHUS, INTERPRETERS.

1. BASILOCLES. You have spun out the time, Philinus, till it is late in the evening, in giving the strangers a full sight of all the consecrated rarities; so that I am quite tired with waiting longer for your society.

PHILINUS. Therefore we walked slowly along, talking and discoursing, O Basilocles, sowing and reaping by the way such sharp and hot disputes as offered themselves, which sprung up anew and grew about us as we walked, like the armed men from the Dragon’s teeth of Cadmus.

BASILOCLES. Shall we then call some of those that were present; or wilt thou be so kind as to tell us what were the discourses and who were the disputants?

PHILINUS. That, Basilocles, it must be my business to do. For thou wilt hardly meet with any one else in the city able to serve thee; for we saw most of the rest ascending with the stranger up to the Corycian cave and to Lycorea.

BASILOCLES. This same stranger is not only covetous of seeing what may be seen, but wonderfully civil and genteel.

PHILINUS. He is besides a great lover of science, and studious to learn. But these are not the only exercises which are to be admired in him. He is a person modest, yet facetious, smart and prudent in dispute, void of all passion and contumacies in his answers; in short, you will say of him at first sight that he is the son of a virtuous father. For dost thou not know Diogenianus, a most excellent person?

BASILOCLES. I have not seen him, Philinus, but many report several things of the young gentleman, much like what you say. But, pray now, what was the beginning of these discourses? Upon what occasion did they arise?

2. PHILINUS. The interpreters of the sacred mysteries acted without any regard to us, who desired them to contract their relation into as few words as might be, and to pass by the most part of the inscriptions. But the stranger was but indifferently taken with the form and workmanship of the statues, being one, as it appeared, who had already been a spectator of many rare pieces of curiosity. He admired the beautiful color of the brass, not foul and rusty, but shining with a tincture of blue. What, said he, was it any certain mixture and composition of the ancient artists in brass, like the famous art of giving a keen edge to swords, without which brass could not be used in war? For Corinthian brass received its lustre not from art, but by chance, when a fire had devoured some house wherein there was both gold and silver, but of brass the greater plenty; which, being intermixed and melted into one mass, derives its name from the brass, of which there was the greater quantity. Then Theo interposing said: But we have heard another more remarkable reason than this; how an artist in brass at Corinth, happening upon a chest full of gold, and fearing to have it divulged, cut the gold into small pieces, and mixed it by degrees with the brass, till he found the more noble metal gave a more than usual lustre to the baser, and so transformed it that he sold at a great rate the unknown mixture, that was highly admired for its beauty and color. But I believe both the one and the other to be fabulous; for by all likelihood this Corinthian brass was a certain mixture and temperature of metals, prepared by art; just as at this day artisans temper gold and silver together, and make a peculiar and wonderful pale yellow metal; howbeit, in my eye it is of a sickly color and a corrupt hue, without any beauty in the world.

3. What then, said Diogenianus, do you believe to be the cause of this extraordinary color in the brass? And Theo replied: Seeing that of those first and most natural elements, which are and ever will be,—that is to say, fire, air, earth, and water,—there is none that approaches so near to brass or that so closely environs it as air alone, we have most reason to believe that the air occasions it, and that from thence proceeds the difference which brass displays from other metals. Or did you know this even “before Theognis was born,” as the comic poet intimates; but would you know by what natural quality or by what virtual power this same air thus colors the brass, being touched and surrounded by it? Yes, said Diogenianus; and so would I, dear son, replied the worthy Theo. First then let us endeavor, altogether with submission to your good pleasure, said the first propounder, to find out the reason wherefore of all moistures oil covers brass with rust. For it cannot be imagined that oil of itself causes that defilement, if when first laid on it is clean and pure. By no means, said the young gentleman, in regard the effect seems to proceed from another cause; for the rust appears through the oil, which is thin, pure, and transparent, whereas it is clouded by other more thick and muddy liquors, and so is not able to show itself. It is well said, son, replied the other, and truly; but hear, however, and then consider the reason which Aristotle produces. I am ready, returned the young gentleman. He says then, answered the other, that the rust insensibly penetrates and dilates itself through other liquids, as being of parts unequal, and of a thin substance; but that it grows to a consistency, and is, as it were, incorporated by the more dense substance of the oil. Now if we could but suppose how this might be done, we should not want a charm to lull this doubt asleep.

4. When we had made our acknowledgment that he had spoken truth, and besought him to proceed, he told us that the air of the city of Delphi is heavy, compacted, thick, and forcible, by reason of the reflection and resistency of the adjacent mountains, and besides that, is sharp and cutting (as appears by the eager stomachs and swift digestion of the inhabitants); and that this air, entering and penetrating the brass by its keenness, fetches forth from the body of the brass much rust and earthy matter, which afterwards it stops and coagulates by its own density, ere it can get forth; by which means the rust abounding in quantity gives that peculiar grain and lustre to the superficies. When we approved this argument, the stranger declared his opinion, that it needed no more than one of those suppositions to clear the doubt; for, said he, that tenuity or subtilty seems to be in some measure contrary to that thickness supposed to be in the air, and therefore there is no reason to suppose it; for the brass, as it grows old, of itself exhales and sends forth that rust, which afterwards, being stopped and fixed by the thickness of the air, becomes apparent by reason of its quantity. Then Theo replied: and what hinders but that the same thing may be thick and thin both together, like the woofs of silk or fine linen?—of which Homer says:

Thin was the stuff,
Yet liquid oil ran o’er the tissued woof,[30]

intimating the extreme fineness of the texture, yet so close woven that it could not suffer oil to pass through it. In like manner may we make use of the subtilty of the air, not only to scour the brass and fetch the rust out of it, but also to render the color more pleasing and more azure-like, by intermixing light and splendor amidst the blue.

5. This said, after short silence, the guides began again to cite certain words of an ancient oracle in verse, which, as it seemed to me, pointed at the sovereignty of Aegon king of Argos. I have often wondered, said Diogenianus, at the meanness and ill-contrived hobbling of the verses which conveyed the ancient oracles into the world. And yet Apollo is called the chief of the Muses; whom it therefore behooved to take no less care of elegancy and beauty in style and language, than of the voice and manner of singing. Besides, he must needs be thought to surpass in a high degree either Homer or Hesiod in poetic skill. Nevertheless we find several of the oracles lame and erroneous, as well in reference to the measure as to the words. Upon which the poet Serapio, newly come from Athens, being then in company, said: If we believe that those verses were composed by Apollo, can we acknowledge what you allege, that they come short of the beauty and elegancy which adorn the writings of Homer and Hesiod; and shall we not make use of them as examples of neatness and curiosity, correcting our judgment anticipated and forestalled by evil custom? To whom Boethus the geometer (the person who you know has lately gone over to the camp of Epicurus) said: Have you not heard the story of Pauson the painter? Not I, replied Serapio. It is worth your attention, answered Boethus. He, having contracted to paint a horse wallowing upon his back, drew the horse galloping at full speed; at which when the person that had agreed with him seemed to be not a little displeased, Pauson fell a laughing, and turned the picture upside downward; by which means the posture was quite altered, and the horse that seemed to run before lay tumbling now upon the ground. This (as Bion says) frequently happens to propositions, when they are once inverted; for some will deny the oracles to be elegant, because they come from Apollo; others will deny Apollo to be the author, because of their rude and shapeless composure. For the one is dubious and uncertain; but this is manifest, that the verses wherein the oracles are generally delivered are no way laboriously studied. Nor can I appeal to a better judge than yourself, whose compositions and poems are not only written so gravely and philosophically, but, for invention and elegancy, more like to those of Homer and Hesiod than the homely Pythian raptures.

6. To whom Serapio: We labor, Boethus, said he, under the distempered senses both of sight and hearing, being accustomed through niceness and delicacy to esteem and call that elegant which most delights; and perhaps we may find fault with the Pythian priestess because she does not warble so charmingly as the fair lyric songstress Glauca, or else because she does not perfume herself with precious odors or appear in rich and gaudy habit. And some may mislike her because she burns for incense rather barley-meal and laurel than frankincense, ladanon, and cinnamon. Do you not see, some one will say, what a grace there is in Sappho’s measures, and how they delight and tickle the ears and fancies of the hearers? Whereas the Sibyl with her frantic grimaces, as Heraclitus says, uttering sentences altogether thoughtful and serious, neither bespiced nor perfumed, continues her voice a thousand years by the favor of the Deity that speaks within her. Pindar therefore tells us that Cadmus heard from heaven a sort of music that was neither lofty nor soft, nor shattered into trills and divisions; for severe holiness will not admit the allurements of pleasure, that was for the most part thrown into the world and flowed (as it appears) into the ears of men at the same time with the Goddess of mischief.

7. Serapio thus concluding, Theo with a smile proceeded. Serapio, said he, has not forgot his wonted custom of taking an opportunity to discourse of pleasure. But we, Boethus, believe not these prophetic verses to be the compositions of Apollo, if they are worse than Homer’s; but we believe that he supplied the principle of motion, and that every one of the prophetesses was disposed to receive his inspiration. For if the oracles were to be set down in writing, not verbally to be pronounced, surely we should not find fault with the hand, taking it to be Apollo’s, because the letters were not so fairly written as in the epistles of kings. For neither the voice, nor the sound, nor the word, nor the metre proceeds from the God, but from the woman. God only presents the visions, and kindles in the soul a light to discover future events; which is called divine inspiration. But in short, I find it is a hard matter to escape the hands of Epicurus’s priests (of which number I perceive you are), since you reprove the ancient priestesses for making bad verses, and the modern prophetesses for delivering the oracles in prose and vulgar language, which they do that they may escape being by you called to an account for their lame and mistaken verses. But then, Diogenianus, I beseech you, said he, in the name of all the Gods, be serious with us; unriddle this question, and explain this mystery unto us, which is now grown almost epidemical. For indeed there is hardly any person that does not with an extreme curiosity search after the reason wherefore the Pythian oracle has ceased to make use of numbers and verse. Hold, son, said Theo, we shall disoblige our historical directors by taking their province out of their hands. First suffer them to make an end, and then at leisure we will go on with what you please.

8. Thus walking along, we were by this time got as far as the statue of Hiero the tyrant, while the stranger, although a most learned historian, yet out of his complaisant and affable disposition, attentively leaned to the present relations. But then, among other things, hearing how that one of the brazen pillars that supported the said statue of Hiero fell of itself the same day that the tyrant died at Syracuse, he began to admire the accident. Thereupon at the same time I called to mind several other examples of the like nature: as that of Hiero the Spartan, the eyes of whose statue fell out of its head just before he was slain at the battle of Leuctra;—how the two stars vanished which Lysander offered and consecrated to the Gods after the naval engagement near Aegos Potami, and how there sprung of a sudden from his statue of stone such a multitude of thorny bushes and weeds as covered all his face;—how, when those calamities and misfortunes befell the Athenians in Sicily, the golden dates dropped from the palm-tree, and the ravens with their beaks pecked holes in the shield of Pallas;—how the crown of the Cnidians which Philomelus, the tyrant of the Phocians, gave Pharsalia, a female dancer, was the occasion of her death; for, passing out of Greece into Italy, one day as she was playing and dancing in the temple of Apollo in the city of Metapontum, having that crown upon her head, the young men of the place falling upon her, and fighting one among another for lucre of the gold, tore the damsel in pieces. Now, though Aristotle was wont to say that only Homer composed names and terms that had motion, by reason of the vigor and vivacity of his expressions, for my part I am apt to believe that the offerings made in this city of statues and consecrated presents sympathize with Divine Providence, and move themselves jointly therewith to foretell and signify future events; and that no part of all those sacred donatives is void of sense, but that every part is full of the Deity.

It is very probable, answered Boethus; for, to tell you truth, we do not think it sufficient to enclose the Divinity every month in a mortal body, unless we incorporate him with every stone and lump of brass; as if Fortune and Chance were not sufficient artists to bring about such accidents and events. Say ye so then? said I. Seems it to you that these things happen accidentally and by hap-hazard; and is it likely that your atoms never separate, never move or incline this or that way either before or after, but just in that nick of time when some one of those who have made these offerings is to fare either better or worse? Shall Epicurus avail thee by his writings and his sayings, which he wrote and uttered above three hundred years ago, and shall the Deity, unless he crowd himself into all substances and blend himself with all things, not be allowed to be a competent author of the principles of motion and affection?

9. This was the reply I made Boethus, and the same answer I gave him touching the Sibyl’s verses; for when we drew near that part of the rock which joins to the senate-house, which by common fame was the seat of the first Sibyl that came to Delphi from Helicon, where she was bred by the Muses (though others affirm that she fixed herself at Maleo, and that she was the daughter of Lamia, the daughter of Neptune), Serapio made mention of certain verses of hers, wherein she had extolled herself as one that should never cease to prophesy even after her death; for that after her decease she should make her abode in the orb of the moon, being metamorphosed into the face of that planet; that her voice and prognostications should be always heard in the air, intermixed with the winds and by them driven about from place to place; and that from her body should spring various plants, herbs, and fruits to feed the sacred victims, which should have sundry forms and qualities in their entrails, whereby men would be able to foretell all manner of events to come. At this Boethus laughed outright; but the stranger replied that, though the Sibyl’s vain-glory seemed altogether fabulous, yet the subversions of several Grecian cities, transmigrations of the inhabitants, several invasions of barbarian armies, the destructions of kingdoms and principalities, testified the truth of ancient prophecies and predictions. And were not those accidents that fell out not many years ago in our memories at Cumae and Puteoli, said he, long before that time the predictions and promises of the Sibyl, which Time, as a debtor, afterwards discharged and paid? Such were the breaking forth of kindled fire from the sulphuric wombs of mountains, boiling of the sea, cities so swallowed up as not to leave behind the least footsteps of the ruins where they stood; things hard to be believed, much harder to be foretold, unless by Divine foresight.

10. Then Boethus said: I would fain know what accidents fall out which time does not owe at length to Nature. What so prodigious or unlooked for, either by land or sea, either in respect of cities or men, which, if it be foretold, may not naturally come to pass at one season or other, in process of time? So that such a prophecy, to speak properly, cannot be called a prediction, but a bare speech or report, or rather a scattering or sowing of words in boundless infinity that have no probability or foundation; which, as they rove and wander in the air, Fortune accidentally meets, and musters together by chance, to correspond and agree with some event. For, in my opinion, there is a great difference between the coming to pass of what has been said and the saying of what shall happen. For the discourse of things that are not, being already in itself erroneous and faulty, cannot, in justice, claim the honor of after-credit from a fortuitous accident. Nor is it a true sign that the prophet foretells of his certain knowledge, because what he spoke happened to come to pass; in regard there are an infinite number of accidents, that fall in the course of nature, suitable to all events. He therefore that conjectures best, and whom the common proverb avers to be the exactest diviner, is he who finds out what shall happen hereafter, by tracing the footsteps of future probabilities. Whereas these Sibyls and enthusiastic wizards have only thrown into the capacious abyss of time, as into a vast and boundless ocean, whole heaps of words and sentences, comprehending all sorts of accidents and events, which, though some perchance may come to pass, were yet false when uttered, though afterwards by chance they may happen to be true.

11. Boethus having thus discoursed, Serapio replied, that Boethus had rightly and judiciously argued in reference to cursory predictions uttered not determinately and without good ground. One fairly guessed that such a captain should get the victory, and he won the field; another cried that such things portended the subversion of such a city, and it was laid in ashes. But when the person does not only foretell the event, but how and when, by what means, and by whom it shall come to pass, this is no hazardous conjecture, but an absolute demonstration, and pre-inspired discovery of what shall come to pass hereafter, and that too by the determined decree of fate, long before it comes to pass. For example, to instance the halting of Agesilaus,

Sparta, beware, though thou art fierce and proud,
Lest a lame king thy ancient glories cloud;
For then 'twill be thy fate to undergo
Tedious turmoils of war, and sudden woe;

together with what was prophesied concerning the island which the sea threw up right against Thera and Therasia; as also the prediction of the war between King Philip and the Romans,

When Trojan race shall tame Phoenicians bold,
Prodigious wonders shall the world behold;
From burning seas shall flames immense ascend;
Lightning and whirlwinds hideous rocks shall rend
From their foundations, and an island rear,
Dreadful to sight and terrible to hear.
In vain shall greater strength and valor then
Withstand the contemned force of weaker men.

Soon after this island shot up out of the ocean, surrounded with flames and boiling surges; and then it was that Hannibal was overthrown, and the Carthaginians were subdued by the distressed and almost ruined Romans, and that the Aetolians, assisted by the Romans, vanquished Philip King of Macedon. So that it is never to be imagined that these things were the effects of negligent and careless chance; besides, the series and train of events ensuing the prodigy clearly demonstrate the foreknowledge of a prophetic spirit. The same may be said of the prophecy made five hundred years beforehand to the Romans of the time when they should be engaged in war with all the world at once; which happened when their own slaves made war upon their masters. In all this there was nothing of conjecture, nothing of blind uncertainty, nor is there any occasion to grope into the vast obscurity of chance for the reason of these events; but we have many pledges of experience, that plainly demonstrate the beaten path by which destiny proceeds. For certainly there is no man who will believe that ever those events answered accidentally the several circumstances of the prediction; otherwise we may as well say that Epicurus himself never wrote his book of dogmatic precepts, but that the work was perfected by the accidental meeting and interchange of the letters, one among another.

12. Thus discoursing, we kept on our walk; but when we came into the Corinthian Hall and observed the brazen palm-tree, the only remainder left of all the consecrated donatives, Diogenianus wondered to observe several figures of frogs and water-snakes, all in cast work about the root of the tree. Nor were we less at a stand, well knowing the palm to be no tree that grows by the water or delights in moist or fenny places; neither do frogs at all concern or belong to the Corinthians, either by way of emblem or religious ceremony, or as the city arms; as the Selinuntines formerly offered to their Gods parsley or smallage (_selinon_) of goldsmith’s work and of the choicest yellow metal; and the inhabitants of Tenedos always kept in their temple a consecrated axe, a fancy taken from their esteem of the crab-fish that breed in that island near the promontory of Asterium, they being the only crabs that carry the figure of an axe upon the upper part of their shells. For as for Apollo, we were of opinion that crows, swans, wolves, sparrow-hawks, or any other sort of creature, would be more acceptable to him than despicable animals. To this Serapio replied, that sure the workman thereby designed to show that the Sun was nourished by moisture and exhalations; whether it was that he thought at that time of that verse in Homer

The rising Sun then causing day to break,
Quits the cool pleasure of the oozy lake,[31]

or whether he had seen how the Egyptians, to represent sunrise, paint a little boy sitting upon a lotus. Thereupon, not able to refrain laughing, What, said I, are you going about to obtrude your stoicisms again upon us; or do you think to slide insensibly into our discourse your exhalations and fiery prodigies? What is this but, like the Thessalian women, to call down the Sun and Moon by enchantments from the skies, while you derive their original from the earth and water?

Therefore Plato will have a man to be a heavenly tree, growing with his root, which is his head, upward. But you deride Empedocles for affirming that the Sun, being illumined by the reflection of the celestial light, with an intrepid countenance casts a radiant lustre back upon the convex of heaven; while you yourselves make the Sun to be a mere terrestrial animal or water plant, confining him to ponds, lakes, and such like regions of frogs. But let us refer these things to the tragical monstrosity of Stoical opinions, and now make some particular reflections touching the extravagant pieces of certain artificers, who, as they are ingenious and elegant in some things, so are no less weakly curious and ambitious in others of their inventions; like him who, designing to signify the dawn of day-light or the hours of sunrise, painted a cock upon the hand of Apollo. And thus may these frogs be thought to have been designed by the artist to denote the spring, when the Sun begins to exercise his power in the air and to dissolve the winter congealments; at least, if we may believe, as you yourselves affirm, that Apollo and the Sun are both one God, and not two distinct Deities. Why, said Serapio, do you think the Sun and Apollo differ the one from the other? Yes, said I, as the Moon differs from the Sun. Nay, the difference is somewhat greater. For the Moon neither very often nor from all the world conceals the Sun; but the Sun is the cause that all men are ignorant of Apollo, by sense withdrawing the rational intellect from that which is to that which appears.