ON ABUNDANCE OF FRIENDS.

Sec. I. Menon the Thessalian, who thought he was a perfect adept in

discourse, and, to borrow the language of Empedocles, "had attained the

heights of wisdom," was asked by Socrates, what virtue was, and upon his

answering quickly and glibly, that virtue was a different thing in boy

and old man, and in man and woman, and in magistrate and private person,

and in master and servant, "Capital," said Socrates, "you were asked

about one virtue, but you have raised up a whole swarm of them,"[321]

conjecturing not amiss that the man named many because he knew not one.

Might not someone jeer at us in the same way, as being afraid, when we

have not yet one firm friendship, that we shall without knowing it fall

upon an abundance of friends? It is very much the same as if a man

maimed and blind should be afraid of becoming hundred-handed like

Briareus or all eyes like Argus. And yet we wonderfully praise the young

man in Menander, who said that he thought anyone wonderfully good, if he

had even the shadow of a friend.[322]

Sec. II. But among many other things what stands chiefly in the way of

getting a friend is the desire for many friends, like a licentious woman

who, through giving her favours indiscriminately, cannot retain her old

lovers, who are neglected and drop off;[323] or rather like the

foster-child of Hypsipyle, "sitting in the meadow and plucking flower

after flower, snatching at each prize with gladsome heart, insatiable in

its childish delight,"[324] so in the case of each of us, owing to our

love of novelty and fickleness, the recent flower ever attracts, and

makes us inconstant, frequently laying the foundations of many

friendships and intimacies that come to nothing, neglecting in love of

what we eagerly pursue what we have already possession of. To begin

therefore with the domestic hearth,[325] as the saying is, with the

traditions of life that time has handed down to us about constant

friends, let us take the witness and counsel of antiquity, according to

which friendships go in pairs, as in the cases of Theseus and Pirithous,

Achilles and Patroclus, Orestes and Pylades, Phintias and Damon,

Epaminondas and Pelopidas. For friendship is a creature that goes in

pairs, and is not gregarious, or crow-like,[326] and to think a friend

a second self, and to call him companion as it were second one,[327]

shows that friendship is a dual relation. For we can get neither many

slaves nor many friends at small expense. What then is the

purchase-money of friendship? Benevolence and complaisance conjoined

with virtue, and yet nature has nothing more rare than these. And so to

love or be loved very much cannot find place with many persons; for as

rivers that have many channels and cuttings have a weak and thin stream,

so excessive love in the soul if divided out among many is weakened.

Thus love for their young is most strongly implanted in those that bear

only one, as Homer calls a beloved son "the only one, the child of old

age,"[328] that is, when the parents neither have nor are likely to have

another child.

Sec. III. Not that we insist on only one friend, but among the rest there

should be one eminently so, like a child of old age, who according to

that well-known proverb has eaten a bushel of salt with one,[329] not as

nowadays many so-called friends contract friendship from drinking

together once, or playing at ball together, or playing together with

dice, or passing the night together at some inn, or meeting at the

wrestling-school or in the market. And in the houses of rich and leading

men people congratulate them on their many friends, when they see the

large and bustling crowd of visitors and handshakers and retainers: and

yet they see more flies in their kitchens, and as the flies only come

for the dainties, so they only dance attendance for what they can get.

And since true friendship has three main requirements, virtue, as a

thing good; and familiarity, as a thing pleasant; and use, as a thing

serviceable; for we ought to choose a friend with judgement, and rejoice

in his company, and make use of him in need; and all these things are

prejudicial to abundance of friends, especially judgement, which is the

most important point; we must first consider, if it is impossible in a

short time to test dancers who are to form a chorus, or rowers who are

to pull together, or slaves who are to act as stewards of estates, or

as tutors of one's sons, far more difficult is it to meet with many

friends who will take off their coats to aid you in every fortune, each

of whom "offers his services to you in prosperity, and does not object

to share your adversity." For neither does a ship encounter so many

storms at sea, nor do they fortify places with walls, or harbours with

defences and earthworks, in the expectation of so many and great

dangers, as friendship tested well and soundly promises defence and

refuge from. But if friends slip in without being tested, like money

proved to be bad,

"Those who shall lose such friends may well be glad,

And those who have such pray that they may lose them."[330]

Yet is it difficult and by no means easy to avoid and bring to a close

an unpleasant friendship: as in the case of food which is injurious and

harmful, we cannot retain it on the stomach without damage and hurt, nor

can we expel it as it was taken into the mouth, but only in a putrid

mixed up and changed form, so a bad friend is troublesome both to others

and himself if retained, and if he be got rid of forcibly it is with

hostility and hatred, and like the voiding of bile.

Sec. IV. We ought not, therefore, lightly to welcome or strike up an

intimate friendship with any chance comers, or love those who attach

themselves to us, but attach ourselves to those who are worthy of our

friendship. For what is easily got is not always desirable: and we pass

over and trample upon heather and brambles that stick to us[331] on our

road to the olive and vine: so also is it good not always to make a

friend of the person who is expert in twining himself around us, but

after testing them to attach ourselves to those who are worthy of our

affection and likely to be serviceable to us.

Sec. V. As therefore Zeuxis, when some people accused him of painting

slowly, replied, "I admit that I do, but then I paint to last," so ought

we to test for a long time the friendship and intimacy that we take up

and mean to keep. Is it not easy then to put to the test many friends,

and to associate with many friends at the same time, or is this

impossible? For intimacy is the full enjoyment of friendship, and most

pleasant is companying with and spending the day with a friend. "Never

again shall we alive, apart from dear friends, sit and take counsel

alone together."[332] And Menelaus said about Odysseus, "Nor did

anything ever divide or separate us, who loved and delighted in one

another, till death's black cloud overshadowed us."[333] The contrary

effect seems to be produced by abundance of friends. For the friendship

of a pair of friends draws them together and puts them together and

holds them together, and is heightened by intercourse and kindliness,

"as when the juice of the fig curdles and binds the white milk,"[334] as

Empedocles says, such unity and complete union will such a friendship

produce. Whereas having many friends puts people apart and severs and

disunites them, by transferring and shifting the tie of friendship too

frequently, and does not admit of a mixture and welding of goodwill by

the diffusing and compacting of intimacy. And this causes at once an

inequality and difficulty in respect of acts of kindness, for the uses

of friendship become inoperative by being dispersed over too wide an

area. "One man is acted upon by his character, another by his

reflection."[335] For neither do our natures and impulses always incline

in the same directions, nor are our fortunes in life identical, for

opportunities of action are, like the winds, favourable to some,

unfavourable to others.

Sec. VI. Moreover, if all our friends want to do the same things at the

same time, it will be difficult to satisfy them all, whether they desire

to deliberate, or to act in state affairs, or wish for office, or are

going to entertain guests. If again at the same time they chance to be

engaged in different occupations and interests and ask you all together,

one who is going on a voyage that you will sail with him, another who is

going to law that you will be his advocate, another who is going to try

a case that you will try it with him, another who is selling or buying

that you will go into partnership with him, another who is going to

marry that you will join him in the sacrifice, another who is going to

bury a relation that you will be one of the mourners,

"The town is full of incense, and at once

Resounds with triumph-songs and bitter wailing,"[336]

that is the fruit of many friends; to oblige all is impossible, to

oblige none is absurd, and to help one and offend many is grievous.

"No lover ever yet fancied neglect."[337]

And yet people bear patiently and without anger the carelessness and

neglect of friends, if they get from them such excuses as "I forgot," "I

did it unwittingly." But he who says, "I did not assist you in your

lawsuit, for I was assisting another friend," or "I did not visit you

when you had your fever, for I was helping so-and-so who was

entertaining his friends," excusing himself for his inattention to one

by his attention to another, so far from making the offence less, even

adds jealousy to his neglect. But most people in friendship regard only,

it seems, what can be got out of it, overlooking what will be asked in

return, and not remembering that he, who has had many of his own

requests granted, must oblige others in turn by granting their requests.

And as Briareus with his hundred hands had to feed fifty stomachs, and

was therefore no better provided than we are, who with two hands have to

supply the necessities of only one belly, so in having many friends[338]

one has to do many services for them, one has to share in their anxiety,

and to toil and moil with them. For we must not listen to Euripides when

he says, "mortals ought to join in moderate friendships for one another,

and not love with all their heart, that the spell may be soon broken,

and the friendship may either be ended or become closer at will,"[339]

that so it may be adjusted to our requirements, like the sail of a ship

that we can either slacken or haul tight. But let us transfer,

Euripides, these lines of yours to enmities, and bid people make their

animosities moderate, and not hate with all their heart, that their

hatred, and wrath, and querulousness, and suspicions, may be easily

broken. Recommend rather for our consideration that saying of

Pythagoras, "Do not give many your right hand,"[340] that is, do not

make many friends, do not go in for a common and vulgar friendship,

which is sure to cause anyone much trouble; for its sharing in others'

anxieties and griefs and labours and dangers is quite intolerable to

free and noble natures. And that was a true saying of the wise

Chilo[341] to one who told him he had no enemy, "Neither," said he, "do

you seem to me to have a friend." For enmities inevitably accompany and

are involved in friendships.

Sec. VII. It is impossible I say not to share with a friend in his injuries

and disgraces and enmities, for enemies at once suspect and hate the

friend of their enemies, and even friends are often envious and jealous

and carp at him. As then the oracle given to Timesias about his colony

foretold him, "that his swarm of bees would soon be followed by a swarm

of wasps," so those that seek a swarm of friends have sometimes lighted

unawares on a wasp's-nest of enemies. And the remembrance of wrongs done

by an enemy and the kindness of a friend do not weigh in the same

balance. See how Alexander treated the friends and intimates of Philotas

and Parmenio, how Dionysius treated those of Dion, Nero those of

Plautus, Tiberius those of Sejanus, torturing and putting them to death.

For as neither the gold nor rich robes of Creon's daughter[342] availed

her or her sire, but the flame that burst out suddenly involved him in

the same fate as herself, as he ran up to embrace her and rescue her, so

some friends, though they have had no enjoyment out of their friends'

prosperity, are involved in their misfortunes. And this is especially

the case with philosophers and kind people, as Theseus, when his friend

Pirithous was punished and imprisoned, "was also bound in fetters not

of brass."[343] And Thucydides tells us that during the plague at Athens

those that most displayed their virtue perished with their friends that

were ill, for they neglected their own lives in going to visit

them.[344]

Sec. VIII. We ought not therefore to be too lavish with our virtue, binding

it together and implicating it in various people's fortunes, but we

ought to preserve our friendship for those who are worthy of it, and are

capable of reciprocating it. For this is indeed the greatest argument

against many friends that friendship is originated by similarity. For

seeing that even the brutes can hardly be forced to mix with those that

are unlike themselves, but crouch down, and show their dislike, and run

away, while they mix freely with those that are akin to them and have a

similar nature, and gently and gladly make friends with one another

then, how is it possible that there should be friendship between people

differing in characters and temperaments and ideas of life? For harmony

on the harp or lyre is attained by notes in unison and not in unison,

sharp and flat somehow or other producing concord, but in the harmony of

friendship there must be no unlike, or uneven, or unequal element, but

from all alike must come agreement in opinions and wishes and feeling,

as if one soul were put into several bodies.

Sec. IX. What man then is so industrious, so changeable, and so versatile,

as to be able to make himself like and adapt himself to many different

persons, and not to laugh at the advice of Theognis, "Imitate the

ingenuity of the polypus, that takes the colour of whatever stone it

sticks to."[345] And yet the changes in the polypus do not go deep but

are only on the surface, which, from its thickness or thinness takes the

impression of everything that approaches it, whereas friends endeavour

to be like one another in character, and feeling, and language, and

pursuits, and disposition. It requires a not very fortunate or very good

Proteus,[346] able by jugglery to assume various forms, to be

frequently at the same time a student with the learned, and ready to

try a fall with wrestlers, or to go a hunting with people fond of the

chase, or to get drunk with tipplers, or to go a canvassing with

politicians, having no fixed character of his own.[347] And as the

natural philosophers say of unformed and colourless matter when

subjected to external change, that it is now fire, now water, now air,

now solid earth, so the soul suitable for many friendships must be

impressionable, and versatile, and pliant, and changeable. But

friendship requires a steady constant and unchangeable character, a

person that is uniform in his intimacy. And so a constant friend is a

thing rare and hard to find.

[321] Plato, "Men." p. 71 E.

[322] Quoted more fully by our author, "De Fraterno

Amore," Sec. iii.

[323] "Eadem comparatione utitur Lucianus in Toxari T.

ii. p. 351: [Greek: hostis an polyphilos he homoios

hemin dokei tais koinais tautais kai moicheuomenais

gynaixi; kai oiometh' ouketh' homoios ischyran ten

philian autou einai pros pollas eunoias

diairetheisan]."--_Wyttenbach._

[324] From the "Hypsipyle" of Euripides.

[325] A well-known proverb for beginning at the

beginning. Aristophanes, "Vespae." 846; Plato,

"Euthryphro," 3 A; Strabo, 9.

[326] An allusion to the well-known proverb, [Greek:

koloios poti koloion]. See Erasmus, "Adagia," p. 1644.

[327] The paronomasia is on [Greek: hetairos, heteros].

[328] "Iliad," ix. 482; "Odyssey," xvi. 19.

[329] Cf. Cicero, "De Amicitia," xix.

[330] Sophocles, Fragm. 741. Quoted again by our author,

"On Love," Sec. xxiii.

[331] For the image compare Lucio's speech, Shakspere,

"Measure for Measure," A. iv. Sc. iii. 189, 190: "Nay,

friar, I am a kind of burr; I shall stick."

[332] "Iliad," xxiii. 77, 78.

[333] "Odyssey," iv. 178-180.

[334] "Iliad," v. 902, altered somewhat.

[335] Bergk. p. 1344^3.

[336] Sophocles, "Oedipus Tyrannus," 4, 5. Quoted again

"On Moral Virtue," Sec. vi.

[337] A line from Menander. Quoted again "De Fraterno

Amore," Sec. xx.

[338] Reading with Halm and Hercher [Greek: en toi

pollois philois chresthai.]

[339] Euripides, "Hippolytus," 253-257, where Dindorf

and Hercher agree in the reading.

[340] Compare "On Education," Sec. xvii.

[341] Chilo was one of the Seven Wise Men. See

Pausanias, iii. 16; X. 24.

[342] For the circumstances see Euripides, "Medea," 1136

sq.

[343] For the friendship of Theseus and Pirithous, see

Pausanias, i. 17; x. 29. The line is from Euripides,

"Pirithous," Fragm. 591. Cf. "On Shyness," Sec. x.

[344] Thucydides, ii. 51.

[345] Bergk. p. 500^3.

[346] On Proteus, see Verg. "Georg." iv. 387 sq.; Ovid,

"Art." i. 761; "Met." ii. 9; "Fasti," i. 367 sq., and

especially Horace, "Epistles," i. i. 90: "Quo teneam

vultus mutantem Protea nodo?"

[347] Literally, "having no hearth of character," the

hearth being an emblem of stability. Compare "How One

may Discern a Flatterer from a Friend," Sec. vii., where

the same image is employed.

HOW ONE MAY DISCERN A FLATTERER FROM

A FRIEND.

Sec. I. Plato says,[348] Antiochus Philopappus, that all men pardon the man

who acknowledges that he is excessively fond of himself, but that there

is among many other defects this very grave one in self-love, that by it

a man becomes incapable of being a just and impartial judge about

himself, for love is blind in regard to the loved object, unless a

person has learnt and accustomed himself to honour and pursue what is

noble rather than his own selfish interests. This gives a great field

for the flatterer in friendship, who finds a wonderful base of

operations in our self-love, which makes each person his own first and

greatest flatterer, and easily admits a flatterer from without, who will

be, so he thinks and hopes, both a witness and confirmer of his good

opinion of himself. For he that lies open to the reproach of being fond

of flatterers is very fond of himself, and owing to his goodwill to

himself wishes to possess all good qualities, and thinks he actually

does; the wish is not ridiculous, but the thought is misleading and

requires a good deal of caution. And if truth is a divine thing, and,

according to Plato,[349] the beginning of all good things both to the

gods and men, the flatterer is likely to be an enemy to the gods, and

especially to Apollo, for he always sets himself against that famous

saying, "Know thyself,"[350] implanting in everybody's mind self-deceit

and ignorance of his own good or bad qualities, thus making his good

points defective and imperfect, and his bad points altogether

incorrigible.

Sec. II. If however, as is the case with most other bad things, the

flatterer attacked only or chiefly ignoble or worthless persons, the

evil would not be so mischievous or so difficult to guard against. But

since, as wood-worms breed most in soft and sweet wood, those whose

characters are honourable and good and equitable encourage and support

the flatterer most,--and moreover, as Simonides says, "rearing of horses

does not go with the oil-flask,[351] but with fruitful fields," so we

see that flattery does not join itself to the poor, the obscure, or

those without means, but is the snare and bane of great houses and

estates, and often overturns kingdoms and principalities,--it is a

matter of no small importance, needing much foresight, to examine the

question, that so flattery may be easily detected, and neither injure

nor discredit friendship. For just as lice leave dying persons, and

abandon bodies when the blood on which they feed is drying up, so one

never yet saw flatterers dancing attendance on dry and cold poverty, but

they fasten on wealth and position and there get fat, but speedily

decamp if reverses come. But we ought not to wait to experience that,

which would be unprofitable, or rather injurious and dangerous. For not

to find friends at a time when you want them is hard, as also not to be

able to exchange an inconstant and bad friend for a constant and good

one. For a friend should be like money tried before being required, not

found faulty in our need. For we ought not to have our wits about us

only when the mischief is done, but we ought to try and prevent the

flatterer doing any harm to us: for otherwise we shall be in the same

plight as people who test deadly poisons by first tasting them, and kill

or nearly kill themselves in the experiment. We do not praise such, nor

again all those who, looking at their friend simply from the point of

view of decorum and utility, think that they can detect all agreeable

and pleasant companions as flatterers in the very act. For a friend

ought not to be disagreeable or unpleasant, nor ought friendship to be a

thing high and mighty with sourness and austerity, but even its decorous

deportment ought to be attractive and winning,[352] for by it

"The Graces and Desire have pitched their tents,"[353]

and not only to a person in misfortune "is it sweet to look into the

eyes of a friendly person," as Euripides[354] says, but no less does it

bring pleasure and charm in good fortune, than when it relieves the

sorrows and difficulties of adversity. And as Evenus said "fire was the

best sauce,"[355] so the deity, mixing up friendship with life, has made

everything bright and sweet and acceptable by its presence and the

enjoyment it brings. How else indeed could the flatterer insinuate

himself by the pleasure he gives, unless he knew that friendship

admitted the pleasurable element? It would be impossible to say. But

just as spurious and mock gold only imitates the brightness and glitter

of real gold, so the flatterer seems to imitate the pleasantness and

agreeableness of the real friend, and to exhibit himself ever merry and

bright, contradicting and opposing nothing. We must not however on that

account suspect all who praise as simple flatterers. For friendship

requires praise as much as censure on the proper occasion. Indeed

peevishness and querulousness are altogether alien to friendship and

social life: but when goodwill bestows praise ungrudgingly and readily

upon good actions, people endure also easily and without pain admonition

and plainspeaking, believing and continuing to love the person who took

such pleasure in praising, as if now he only blamed out of necessity.

Sec. III. It is difficult then, someone may say, to distinguish between the

flatterer and the friend, if they differ neither in the pleasure they

give nor in the praise they bestow; for as to services and attentions

you may often see friendship outstripped by flattery. Certainly it is

so, I should reply, if we are trying to find the genuine flatterer who

handles his craft with cleverness and art, but not if, like most people,

we consider those persons flatterers who are called their own

oil-flask-carriers and table-men, men who begin to talk, as one said,

the moment their hands have been washed for dinner,[356] whose

servility, ribaldry, and want of all decency, is apparent at the first

dish and glass. It did not of course require very much discrimination to

detect Melanthius the parasite of Alexander of Pherae of flattery, who,

to those who asked how Alexander was murdered, answered, "Through his

side into my belly": or those who formed a circle round a wealthy table,

"whom neither fire, nor sword, nor steel, would keep from running to a

feast":[357] or those female flatterers in Cyprus, who after they

crossed over into Syria were nicknamed "step-ladders,"[358] because they

lay down and let the kings' wives use their bodies as steps to mount

their carriages.

Sec. IV. What kind of flatterer then must we be on our guard against? The

one who neither seems to be nor acknowledges himself to be one: whom you

will not always find in the vicinity of your kitchen, who is not to be

caught watching the dial to see how near it is to dinner-time,[359] nor

gets so drunk as to throw himself down anyhow, but one who is generally

sober, and a busybody, and thinks he ought to have a hand in your

affairs, and wishes to share in your secrets, and as to friendship plays

rather a tragic than a satyric or comic part. For as Plato says, "it is

the height of injustice to appear to be just when you are not really

so,"[360] so we must deem the most dangerous kind of flattery not the

open but the secret, not the playful but the serious. For it throws

suspicion even upon a genuine friendship, which we may often confound

with it, if we are not careful. When Gobryas pursued one of the Magi

into a dark room, and was on the ground wrestling with him, and Darius

came up and was doubtful how he could kill one without killing both,

Gobryas bade him thrust his sword boldly through both of them;[361] but

we, since we give no assent to that saying, "Let friend perish so the

enemy perish with him,"[362] in our endeavour to distinguish the

flatterer from the friend, seeing that their resemblances are so many,

ought to take great care that we do not reject the good with the bad,

nor in sparing what is beneficial fall in with what is injurious. For as

wild grains mixed up with wheat, if very similar in size and appearance,

are not easily kept apart, for if the sieve have small holes they don't

pass through, and if large holes they pass with the corn, so flattery is

not easily distinguished from friendship, being mixed up with it in

feeling and emotion, habit and custom.

Sec. V. Because however friendship is the most pleasant of all things, and

nothing more glads the heart of man, therefore the flatterer attracts by

the pleasure he gives, pleasure being in fact his field. And because

favours and good services accompany friendship, as the proverb says "a

friend is more necessary than fire or water,"[363] therefore the

flatterer volunteers all sorts of services, and strives to show himself

on all occasions zealous and obliging and ready. And since friendship is

mainly produced by a similarity of tastes and habits, and to have the

same likes and dislikes first brings people together and unites them

through sympathy,[364] the flatterer observing this moulds himself like

material and demeans himself accordingly, seeking completely to imitate

and resemble those whom he desires to ingratiate himself with, being

supple in change, and plausible in his imitations, so that one would

say,

"Achilles' son, O no, it is himself."[365]

But his cleverest trick is that, observing that freedom of speech, is

both spoken of and reckoned as the peculiar and natural voice of

friendship, while not speaking freely is considered unfriendly and

disingenuous, he has not failed to imitate this trait of friendship

also. But just as clever cooks infuse bitter sauces and sharp seasoning

to prevent sweet things from cloying, so these flatterers do not use a

genuine or serviceable freedom of speech, but merely a winking and

tickling innuendo. He is therefore difficult to detect, like those

creatures which naturally change their colour and take that of the

material or place near them.[366] But since he deceives and conceals his

true character by his imitations, it is our duty to unmask him and

detect him by the differences between him and the true friend, and to

show that he is, as Plato says, "tricked out in other people's colours

and forms, from lack of any of his own."[367]

Sec. VI. Let us examine the matter then from the beginning. I said that

friendship originated in most cases from a similar disposition and

nature, generally inclined to the same habits and morals, and rejoicing

in the same pursuits, studies, and amusements, as the following lines

testify: "To old man the voice of old man is sweetest, to boy that of

boy, to woman is most acceptable that of woman, to the sick person that

of sick person, while he that is overtaken by misfortune is a comforter

to one in trouble." The flatterer knowing then that it is innate in us

to delight in, and enjoy the company of, and to love, those who are like

ourselves, attempts first to approach and get near a person in this

direction, (as one tries to catch an animal in the pastures,) by the

same pursuits and amusements and studies and modes of life quietly

throwing out his bait, and disguising himself in false colours, till his

victim give him an opportunity to catch him, and become tame and

tractable at his touch. Then too he censures the things and modes of

life and persons that he knows his victim dislikes, while he praises

those he fancies immoderately, overdoing it indeed[368] with his show of

surprise and excessive admiration, making him more and more convinced

that his likes and dislikes are the fruits of judgement and not of

caprice.

Sec. VII. How then is the flatterer convicted, and by what differences is

he detected, of being only a counterfeit, and not really like his

victim? We must first then look at the even tenor and consistency of his

principles, if he always delights in the same things, and always praises

the same things, and directs and governs his life after one pattern, as

becomes the noble lover of consistent friendship and familiarity. Such a

person is a friend. But the flatterer having no fixed character of his

own,[369] and not seeking to lead the life suitable for him, but shaping

and modelling himself after another's pattern, is neither simple nor

uniform, but complex and unstable, assuming different appearances, like

water poured from vessel to vessel, ever in a state of flux and

accommodating himself entirely to the fashion of those who entertain

him. The ape indeed, as it seems, attempting to imitate man, is caught

imitating his movements and dancing like him, but the flatterer himself

attracts and decoys other men, imitating not all alike, for with one he

sings and dances, with another he wrestles and gets covered with the

dust of the palaestra, while he follows a third fond of hunting and the

chase all but shouting out the words of Phaedra,

"How I desire to halloo on the dogs,

Chasing the dappled deer,"[370]

and yet he has really no interest in the chase, it is the hunter himself

he sets the toils and snares for. And if the object of his pursuit is

some young scholar and lover of learning, he is all for books then, his

beard flows down to his feet,[371] he's quite a sight with his

threadbare cloak, has all the indifference of the Stoic, and speaks of

nothing but the rectangles and triangles of Plato. But if any rich and

careless fellow fond of drink come in his way,

"Then wise Odysseus stript him of his rags,"[372]

his threadbare cloak is thrown aside, his beard is shorn off like a

fruitless crop, he goes in for wine-coolers and tankards, and laughs

loudly in the streets, and jeers at philosophers. As they say happened

at Syracuse, when Plato went there, and Dionysius was seized with a

furious passion for philosophy, and so great was the concourse of

geometricians that they raised up quite a cloud of dust in the palace,

but when Plato fell out of favour, and Dionysius gave up philosophy, and

went back again headlong to wine and women and trifles and debauchery,

then all the court was metamorphosed, as if they all had drunk of

Circe's cup, for ignorance and oblivion and silliness reigned rampant. I

am borne out in what I say by the behaviour of great flatterers and

demagogues,[373] the greatest of whom Alcibiades, a jeerer and

horse-rearer at Athens, and living a gay and merry life, wore his hair

closely shaven at Lacedaemon, and washed in cold water, and attired

himself in a threadbare cloak; while in Thrace he fought[374] and drank;

and at Tissaphernes' court lived delicately and luxuriously and in a

pretentious style; and thus curried favour and was popular with

everybody by imitating their habits and ways. Such was not the way

however in which Epaminondas or Agesilaus acted, for though they

associated with very many men and states and different modes of life,

they maintained everywhere their usual demeanour, both in dress and diet

and language and behaviour. So Plato[375] at Syracuse was exactly the

same man as in the Academy, the same with Dionysius as with Dion.

Sec. VIII. As to the changes of the flatterer, which resemble those of the

polypus,[376] a man may most easily detect them by himself pretending to

change about frequently, and by censuring the kind of life he used

formerly to praise, and anon approving of the words actions and modes of

life that he used to be displeased with. He will then see that the

flatterer is never consistent or himself, never loving hating rejoicing

grieving at his own initiative, but like a mirror, merely reflecting the

image of other people's emotions and manners and feelings. Such a one

will say, if you censure one of your friends to him, "You are slow in

finding the fellow out, he never pleased me from the first." But if on

the other hand you change your language and praise him, he will swear by

Zeus that he rejoices at it, and is himself under obligations to the

man, and believes in him. And if you talk of the necessity of changing

your mode of life, of retiring from public life to a life of privacy and

ease, he says, "We ought long ago to have got rid of uproar[377] and

envy." But if you think of returning again to public life, he chimes in,

"Your sentiments do you honour: retirement from business is pleasant,

but inglorious and mean." One ought to say at once to such a one,

"'Stranger, quite different now you look to what you did before.'[378] I

do not need a friend to change his opinions with me and to assent to me

in everything, my shadow will do that better, but I need one that will

speak the truth and help me with his judgement." This is one way of

detecting the flatterer.

Sec. IX. We must also observe another difference in the resemblance between

the friend and flatterer. The true friend does not imitate you in

everything, nor is he too keen to praise, but praises only what is

excellent, for as Sophocles says,

"He is not born to share in hate but love,"[379]

yes, by Zeus, and he is born to share in doing what is right and in

loving what is noble, and not to share in wrong-doing or misbehaviour,

unless it be that, as a running of the eyes is catching, so through

companionship and intimacy he may against his will contract by infection

some vice or ill habit, as they say Plato's intimates imitated his

stoop, Aristotle's his lisp, and king Alexander's his holding his head a

little on one side, and rapidity of utterance in conversation,[380] for

people mostly pick up unawares such traits of character. But the

flatterer is exactly like the chameleon,[381] which takes every colour

but white, and so he, though unable to imitate what is worth his while,

leaves nothing that is bad unimitated. And just as poor painters unable

to make a fine portrait from inefficiency in their craft, bring out the

likeness by painting all the wrinkles, moles and scars, so the flatterer

imitates his friend's intemperance, superstition, hot temper, sourness

to domestics, suspicion of his friends and relations. For he is by

nature inclined to what is worst, and thinks that imitation of what is

bad is as far as possible removed from censure. For those are suspected

who have noble aims in life, and seem to be vexed and disgusted at their

friends' faults, for that injured and even ruined Dion with Dionysius,

Samius with Philip, and Cleomenes with Ptolemy. But he that wishes to be

and appear at the same time both agreeable and trustworthy pretends to

rejoice more in what is bad, as being through excessive love for his

friend not even offended at his vices, but as one with him in feeling

and nature in all matters. And so they claim to share in involuntary and

chance ailments, and pretend to have the same complaints, in flattery to

those who suffer from any, as that their eyesight and sense of hearing

are deficient, if their friends are somewhat blind or deaf, as the

flatterers of Dionysius, who was rather short-sighted, jostled one

another at a dinner party, and knocked the dishes off the table, _as if

from defect of vision_.[382] And some to make their cases more similar

wind themselves in closer, and dive even into family secrets for

parallels. For seeing that their friends are unfortunate in marriage, or

suspicious about the behaviour of their sons or relations, they do not

spare themselves, but make quite a Jeremiad about their own sons, or

wife, or kinsfolk, or relations, proclaiming loudly their own family

secrets. For similarity in situation makes people more sympathetic, and

their friends having received as it were hostages by their confessions,

entrust them in return with their secrets, and having once made

confidants of them, dare not take back their confidence.[383] I actually

know of a man who turned his wife out of doors because his friend had

put away his; but as he secretly visited her and sent messages to her,

he was detected by his friend's wife noticing his conduct. So little did

he know the nature of a flatterer that thought the following lines more

applicable to a crab than a flatterer, "His whole body is belly, his eye

is on everything, he is a creature creeping on his teeth," for such is a

true picture of the parasite, "friends of the frying-pan, hunting for a

dinner," to borrow the language of Eupolis.

Sec. X. However let us put off all this to its proper place in the

discourse. But let us not fail to notice the wiliness of the flatterer's

imitation, in that, even if he imitates any good points in the person he

flatters, he always takes care to give him the palm. Whereas among real

friends there is no rivalry or jealousy of one another, but they are

satisfied and contented alike whether they are equal or one of them is

superior. But the flatterer, ever remembering that he is to play second

fiddle,[384] makes his copy always fall a little short of the original,

for he admits that he is everywhere outstripped and left behind, except

in vice. For in that alone he claims pre-eminence, for if his friend is

peevish, he says he is atrabilious; if his friend is superstitious, he

says he is a fanatic; if his friend is in love, he says he is madly in

love; if his friend laughs, he will say, "You laughed a little

unseasonably, but I almost died of laughter." But in regard to any good

points his action is quite the opposite. He says he can run quickly, but

his friend flies; he says he can ride pretty well, but his friend is a

Centaur on horseback. He says "I am not a bad poet, and don't write very

bad lines",

"'But your sonorous verse is like Jove's thunder.'"

Thus he shows at once that his friend's aims in life are good, and that

his friend has reached a height he cannot soar to. Such then are the

differences in the resemblances between the flatterer and the friend.

Sec. XI. But since, as has been said before, to give pleasure is common to

both, for the good man delights in his friends as much as the bad man in

his flatterers, let us consider the difference between them here too.

The difference lies in the different aim of each in giving pleasure.

Look at it this way. There is no doubt a sweet smell in perfume. So

there is also in medicine. But the difference is that while in perfume

pleasure and nothing else is designed, in medicine either purging, or

warming, or adding flesh to the system, is the primary object, and the

sweet smell is only a secondary consideration. Again painters mix gay

colours and dyes: there are also some drugs which are gay in appearance

and not unpleasing in colour. What then is the difference between these?

Manifestly we distinguish by the end each aims at. So too the social

life of friends employs mirth to add a charm to some good and useful

end,[385] and sometimes makes joking and a good table and wine, aye, and

even chaff and banter, the seasoning to noble and serious matters, as

in the line,

"Much they enjoyed talking to one another,"[386]

and again,

"Never did ought else

Disturb our love or joy in one another."[387]

But the flatterer's whole aim and end is to cook up and season his joke

or word or action, so as to produce pleasure. And to speak concisely,

the flatterer's object is to please in everything he does, whereas the

true friend always does what is right, and so often gives pleasure,

often pain, not wishing the latter, but not shunning it either, if he

deems it best. For as the physician, if it be expedient, infuses saffron

or spikenard, aye, or uses some soothing fomentation or feeds his

patient up liberally, and sometimes orders castor,

"Or poley,[388] that so strong and foully smells,"

or pounds hellebore and compels him to drink it,--neither in the one

case making unpleasantness, nor in the other pleasantness, his end and

aim, but in both studying only the interest of his patient,--so the

friend sometimes by praise and kindness, extolling him and gladdening

his heart, leads him to what is noble, as Agamemnon,

"Teucer, dear head, thou son of Telamon,

Go on thus shooting, captain of thy men;"[389]

or Diomede,

"How could I e'er forget divine Odysseus?"[390]

But where on the other hand there is need of correction, then he rebukes

with biting words and with the freedom worthy of a friend,

"Zeus-cherished Menelaus, art thou mad,

And in thy folly tak'st no heed of safety?"[391]

Sometimes also he joins action to word, as Menedemus sobered the

profligate and disorderly son of his friend Asclepiades, by shutting him

out of his house, and not speaking to him. And Arcesilaus forbade Bato

his school, when he wrote a line in one of his plays against Cleanthes,

and only got reconciled with him after he repented and made his peace

with Cleanthes. For we ought to give our friend pain if it will benefit

him, but not to the extent of breaking off our friendship; but just as

we make use of some biting medicine, that will save and preserve the

life of the patient. And so the friend, like a musician, in bringing

about an improvement to what is good and expedient, sometimes slackens

the chords, sometimes tightens them, and is often pleasant, but always

useful. But the flatterer, always harping on one note, and accustomed to

play his accompaniment only with a view to please and to ingratiate

himself, knows not how either to oppose in deed, or give pain in word,

but complies only with every wish, ever chiming in with and echoing the

sentiments of his patron. As then Xenophon says Agesilaus took pleasure

in being praised by those who would also censure him,[392] so ought we

to think that to please and gratify us is friendly in the person who can

also give us pain and oppose us, but to feel suspicion at an intercourse

which is merely for pleasure and gratification, and never pungent, aye

and by Zeus to have ready that saying of the Lacedaemonian, who, on

hearing king Charillus praised, said, "How can he be a good man, who is

not severe even to the bad?"

Sec. XII. They say the gadfly attacks bulls, and the tick dogs, in the ear:

so the flatterer besieges with praise the ears of those who are fond of

praise, and sticks there and is hard to dislodge. We ought therefore

here to make a wide-awake and careful discrimination, whether the praise

is bestowed on the action or the man. It is bestowed on the action, if

people praise the absent rather than the present, if also those that

have the same aims and aspirations praise not only us but all that are

similarly disposed, and do not evidently say and do one thing at one

time, and the direct contrary at another; and the greatest test is if we

are conscious, in the matters for which we get the praise, that we have

not regretted them, and are not ashamed at them, and would not rather

have said and done differently. For our own inward judgement,

testifying the contrary and not admitting the praise, is above passion,

and impregnable and proof against the flatterer. But I know not how it

is that most people in misfortune cannot bear exhortation, but are

captivated more by condolence and sympathy, and when they have done

something wrong and acted amiss, he that by censure and blame implants

in them the stings of repentance is looked upon by them as hostile and

an accuser, while they welcome and regard as friendly and well-disposed

to them the person who bestows praise and panegyric on what they have

done. Those then that readily praise and join in applauding some word or

action on the part of someone whether in jest or earnest, only do

temporary harm for the moment, but those who injure the character by

their praise, aye, and by their flattery undermine the morals, act like

those slaves who do not steal from the bin, but from the seed corn.[393]

For they pervert the disposition, which is the seed of actions, and the

character, which is the principle and fountain of life, by attaching to

vice names that belong properly only to virtue. For as Thucydides

says,[394] in times of faction and war "people change the accustomed

meaning of words as applied to acts at their will and pleasure, for

reckless daring is then considered bravery to one's comrades, and

prudent delay specious cowardice, and sober-mindedness the cloak of the

coward, and taking everything into account before action a real desire

to do nothing." So too in the case of flattery we must observe and be on

our guard against wastefulness being called liberality, and cowardliness

prudence, and madness quick-wittedness, and meanness frugality, and the

amorous man called social and affectionate, and the term manly applied

to the passionate and vain man, and the term civil applied to the paltry

and mean man. As I remember Plato[395] says the lover is a flatterer of

the beloved one, and calls the snub nose graceful, and the aquiline nose

royal, and swarthy people manly, and fair people the children of the

gods, and the olive complexion is merely the lover's phrase to gloss

over and palliate excessive pallor. And yet the ugly man persuaded he is

handsome, or the short man persuaded he is tall, cannot long remain in

the error, and receives only slight injury from it, and not irreparable

mischief: but praise applied to vices as if they were virtues, so that

one is not vexed but delighted with a vicious life, removes all shame

from wrong-doing, and was the ruin of the Sicilians, by calling the

savage cruelty of Dionysius and Phalaris detestation of wickedness and

uprightness. It was the ruin of Egypt, by styling Ptolemy's effeminacy,

and superstition, and howlings, and beating of drums, religion and

service to the gods.[396] It was nearly the overthrow and destruction of

the ancient manners of the Romans, palliating the luxury and

intemperance and display of Antony as exhibitions of jollity and

kindliness, when his power and fortune were at their zenith. What else

invested Ptolemy[397] with his pipe and fiddle? What else brought

Nero[398] on the tragic stage, and invested him with the mask and

buskins? Was it not the praise of flatterers? And are not many kings

called Apollos if they can just sing a song,[399] and Dionysuses if they

get drunk, and Herculeses if they can wrestle, and do they not joy in

such titles, and are they not dragged into every kind of disgrace by

flattery?

Sec. XIII. Wherefore we must be especially on our guard against the

flatterer in regard to praise; as indeed he is very well aware himself,

and clever to avoid suspicion. If he light upon some dandy, or rustic in

a thick leather garment, he treats him with nothing but jeers and

mocks,[400] as Struthias insulted Bias, ironically praising him for his

stupidity, saying, "You have drunk more than king Alexander,"[401] and,

"that he was ready to die of laughing at his tale about the

Cyprian."[402] But when he sees people more refined very much on their

guard, and observing both time and place, he does not praise them

directly, but draws off a little and wheels round and approaches them

noiselessly, as one tries to catch a wild animal. For sometimes he

reports to a man the panegyric of other persons upon him, (as orators

do, introducing some third person,) saying that he had a very pleasant

conversation in the market with some strangers and men of worth, who

mentioned how they admired his many good points. On another occasion he

concocts and fabricates some false and trifling charges against him,

pretending he has heard them from other people, and runs up with a

serious face and inquires, where he said or did such and such a thing.

And upon his denying he ever did, he pounces on him at once[403] and

compliments his man with, "I thought it strange that you should have

spoken ill of your friends, seeing that you don't even treat your

enemies so: and that you should have tried to rob other people, seeing

that you are so lavish with your own money."

Sec. XIV. Other flatterers again, just as painters heighten the effect of

their pictures by the combination of light and shade, so by censure

abuse detraction and ridicule of the opposite virtues secretly praise

and foment the actual vices of those they flatter. Thus they censure

modesty as merely rustic behaviour in the company of profligates, and

greedy people, and villains, and such as have got rich by evil and

dishonourable courses; and contentment and uprightness they call having

no spirit or energy in action; and when they associate with lazy and

idle persons who avoid all public duties, they are not ashamed to call

the life of a citizen wearisome meddling in other people's affairs, and

the desire to hold office fruitless vain-glory. And some ere now to

flatter an orator have depreciated a philosopher, and others won favour

with wanton women by traducing those wives who are faithful to their

husbands as constitutionally cold and countrybred. And by an acme of

villainy flatterers do not always spare even themselves. For as

wrestlers stoop that they may the easier give their adversaries a fall,

so by censuring themselves they glide into praising others. "I am a

cowardly slave," says such a one, "at sea, I shirk labour, I am madly in

rage if a word is said against me; but this man fears nothing, has no

vices, is a rare good fellow, patient and easy in all circumstances."

But if a person has an excellent idea of his own good sense, and desires

to be austere and self-opinionated, and in his moral rectitude is ever

spouting that line of Homer,

"Tydides, neither praise nor blame me much,"[404]

the artistic flatterer does not attack him as he attacked others, but

employs against such a one a new device. For he comes to him about his

own private affairs, as if desirous to have the advice of one wiser than

himself; he has, he says, more intimate friends, but he is obliged to

trouble him; "for whither shall we that are deficient in judgement go?

whom shall we trust?" And having listened to his utterance he departs,

saying he has received an oracle not an opinion. And if he notices that

somebody lays claim to experience in oratory, he gives him some of his

writings, and begs him to read and correct them. So, when king

Mithridates took a fancy to play the surgeon, several of his friends

offered themselves for operating upon, as for cutting or cauterizing,

flattering in deed and not in word, for his being credited by them would

seem to prove his skill.[405]

"For Providence has many different aspects."[406]

But we can test this kind of negative praise, that needs more wary

caution, by purposely giving strange advice and suggestions, and by

adopting absurd corrections. For if he raises no objection but nods

assent to everything, and approves of everything, and is always crying

out, "Good! How admirable!" he is evidently

"Asking advice, but seeking something else,"

wishing by praise to puff you up.

Sec. XV. Moreover, as some have defined painting to be silent poetry,[407]

so is there praise in silent flattery. For as hunters are more likely to

catch the objects of their chase unawares, if they do not openly appear

to be so engaged, but seem to be walking, or tending their sheep, or

looking after the farm, so flatterers obtain most success in their

praise, when they do not seem to be praising but to be doing something

else. For he who gives up his place or seat to the great man when he

comes in, and while making a speech to the people or senate breaks off

even in the middle, if he observes any rich man wants to speak, and

gives up to him alike speech and platform, shows by his silence even

more than he would by any amount of vociferation that he thinks the

other the better man, and superior to him in judgement. And consequently

you may always see them occupying the best places at theatres and public

assembly rooms, not that they think themselves worthy of them, but that

they may flatter the rich by giving up their places to them; and at

public meetings they begin speaking first, and then make way as for

better men, and most readily take back their own view, if any

influential or rich or famous person espouse the contrary view. And so

one can see plainly that all such servility and drawing back on their

part is a lowering their sails, not to experience or virtue or age, but

to wealth and fame. Not so Apelles the famous painter, who, when

Megabyzus sat with him, and wished to talk about lines and shades, said

to him, "Do you see my lads yonder grinding colours, they admired just

now your purple and gold, but now they are laughing at you for beginning

to talk about what you don't understand."[408] And Solon, when Croesus

asked him about happiness, replied that Tellus, an obscure Athenian, and

Bito and Cleobis were happier than he was.[409] But flatterers proclaim

kings and rich men and rulers not only happy and fortunate, but also

pre-eminent for wisdom, and art, and every virtue.

Sec. XVI. Now some cannot bear to hear the assertion of the Stoics[410]

that the wise man is at once rich, and handsome, and noble, and a king;

but flatterers declare that the rich man is at once orator and poet, and

(if he likes) painter, and flute-player, and swift-footed, and strong,

falling down if he wrestles with them, and if contending with him in

running letting him win the race, as Crisso of Himera purposely allowed

Alexander to outrun him, which vexed the king very much when he heard of

it.[411] And Carneades said that the sons of rich men and kings learnt

nothing really well and properly except how to ride, for their master

praised and flattered them in their studies, and the person who taught

them wrestling always let them throw him, whereas the horse, not knowing

or caring whether his rider were a private person or ruler, rich or

poor, soon threw him over his head if he could not ride well. Simple

therefore and fatuous was that remark of Bion, "If you could by

encomiums make your field to yield well and be fruitful, you could not

be thought wrong in tilling it so rather than digging it and labouring

in it: nor would it be strange in you to praise human beings if by so

doing you could be useful and serviceable to them." For a field does not

become worse by being praised, but those who praise a man falsely and

against his deserts puff him up and ruin him.

Sec. XVII. Enough has been said on this matter: let us now examine

outspokenness. For just as Patroclus put on the armour of Achilles, and

drove his horses to the battle, only durst not touch his spear from

Mount Pelion, but let that alone, so ought the flatterer, tricked out

and modelled in the distinctive marks and tokens of the friend, to leave

untouched and uncopied only his outspokenness, as the special burden of

friendship, "heavy, huge, strong."[412] But since flatterers, to avoid

the blame they incur by their buffoonery, and drinking, and gibes, and

jokes, sometimes work their ends by frowns and gravity, and intermix

censure and reproof, let us not pass this over either without

examination. And I think, as in Menander's Play the sham Hercules comes

on the stage not with a club stout and strong, but with a light and

hollow cane, so the outspokenness of the flatterer is to those who

experience it mild and soft, and the very reverse of vigorous, and like

those cushions for women's heads, which seem able to stand their ground,

but in reality yield and give way under their pressure; so this sham

outspokenness is puffed up and inflated with an empty and spurious and

hollow bombast, that when it contracts and collapses draws in the person

who relies on it. For true and friendly outspokenness attacks

wrong-doers, bringing pain that is salutary and likely to make them more

careful, like honey biting but cleansing ulcerated parts of the

body,[413] but in other respects serviceable and sweet. But we will

speak of this anon.[414] But the flatterer first exhibits himself as

disagreeable and passionate and unforgiving in his dealings with others.

For he is harsh to his servants, and a terrible fellow to attack and

ferret out the faults of his kinsmen and friends, and to look up to and

respect nobody who is a stranger, but to look down upon them, and is

relentless and mischief-making in making people provoked with others,

hunting after the reputation of hating vice, as one not likely knowingly

to mince matters with the vicious, or ingratiate himself with them

either in word or deed. Next he pretends to know nothing of real and

great crimes, but he is a terrible fellow to inveigh against trifling

and external shortcomings, and to fasten on them with intensity and

vehemence, as if he sees any pot or pipkin out of its place, or anyone

badly housed, or neglecting his beard or attire, or not adequately

attending to a horse or dog. But contempt of parents, and neglect of

children, and bad treatment of wife, and haughtiness to friends, and

throwing away money, all this he cares nothing about, but is silent and

does not dare to make any allusion to it: just as if the trainer in a

gymnasium were to allow the athlete to get drunk and live in

debauchery,[415] and yet be vexed at the condition of his oil-flask or

strigil if out of order; or as if the schoolmaster scolded a boy about

his tablet and pen, but paid no attention to a solecism or barbarism.

The flatterer is like a man who should make no comment on the speech of

a silly and ridiculous orator, but should find fault with his voice, and

chide him for injuring his throat by drinking cold water; or like a

person bidden to read some wretched composition, who should merely find

fault with the thickness of the paper, and call the copyist a dirty and

careless fellow. So too when Ptolemy seemed to desire to become learned,

his flatterers used to spin out the time till midnight, disputing about

some word or line or history, but not one of them all objected to his

cruelty and outrages, his torturing and beating people to death.[416]

Just as if, when a man has tumours and fistulas, one were to cut his

hair and nails with a surgeon's knife, so flatterers use outspokenness

only in cases where it gives no pain or distress.

Sec. XVIII. Moreover some of them are cleverer still and make their

outspokenness and censure a means of imparting pleasure. As Agis the

Argive,[417] when Alexander bestowed great gifts on a buffoon, cried out

in envy and displeasure, "What a piece of absurdity!" and on the king

turning angrily to him and saying, "What are you talking about?" he

replied, "I admit that I am vexed and put out, when I see that all you

descendants of Zeus alike take delight in flatterers and jesters, for

Hercules had his Cercopes, and Dionysus his Sileni, and with you too I

see that such are held in good repute." And on one occasion, when the

Emperor Tiberius entered the senate, one of his flatterers got up and

said, that being free men they ought to be outspoken, and not suppress

or conceal anything that might be important, and having by this exordium

engaged everybody's attention, a dead silence prevailing, and even

Tiberius being all attention, he said, "Listen, Caesar, to what we all

charge you with, although no one ventures to tell you openly of it; you

neglect yourself, and are careless about your health, and wear yourself

out with anxiety and labour on our behalf, taking no rest either by

night or day." And on his stringing much more together in the same

strain, they say the orator Cassius Severus said, "This outspokenness

will ruin the man."

Sec. XIX. These are indeed trifling matters: but the following are more

important and do mischief to foolish people, when flatterers accuse them

of the very contrary vices and passions to those to which they are

really addicted; as Himerius the flatterer twitted a very rich, very

mean, and very covetous Athenian with being a careless spendthrift, and

likely one day to want bread as well as his children; or on the other

hand if they rail at extravagant spendthrifts for meanness and

sordidness, as Titus Petronius railed at Nero; or exhort rulers who make

savage and cruel attacks on their subjects to lay aside their excessive

clemency, and unseasonable and inexpedient mercy. Similar to these is

the person who pretends to be on his guard against and afraid of a silly

stupid fellow as if he were clever and cunning; and the one who, if any

person fond of detraction, rejoicing in defamation and censure, should

be induced on any occasion to praise some man of note, fastens on him

and alleges against him that he has an itch for praising people. "You

are always extolling people of no merit: for who is this fellow, or what

has he said or done out of the common?" But it is in regard to the

objects of their love that they mostly attack those they flatter, and

additionally inflame them. For if they see people at variance with their

brothers, or despising their parents, or treating their wives

contemptuously, they neither take them to task nor scold them, but fan

the flame of their anger still more. "You don't sufficiently appreciate

yourself," they say, "you are yourself the cause of your being put upon

in this way, through your constant submissiveness and humility." And if

there is any tiff or fit of jealousy in regard to some courtesan or

adulteress, the flatterer is at hand with remarkable outspokenness,

adding fuel to flame,[418] and taking the lady's part, and accusing her

lover of acting in a very unkind harsh and shameful manner to her,

"O ingrate, after all those frequent kisses!"[419]

Thus Antony's friends, when he was passionately in love with the

Egyptian woman,[420] persuaded him that he was loved by her, and twitted

him with being cold and haughty to her. "She," they said, "has left her

mighty kingdom and happy mode of life, and is wasting her beauty, taking

the field with you like some camp-follower,

"The while your heart is proof 'gainst all her charms,"[421]

as you neglect her love-lorn as she is." But he that is pleased at being

reproached with his wrong-doing, and delights in those that censure him,

as he never did in those that praised him, is unconscious that he is

really perverted also by what seems to be rebuke. For such outspokenness

is like the bites of wanton women,[422] that while seeming to hurt

really tickle and excite pleasure. And just as if people mix pure wine,

which is by itself an antidote against hemlock, with it and so offer it,

they make the poison quite deadly, being rapidly carried to the heart by

the warmth,[423] so ill-disposed men, knowing that outspokenness is a

great antidote to flattery, make it a means of flattering. And so it was

rather a bad answer Bias[424] made, to the person who inquired what was

the most formidable animal, "Of wild animals the tyrant, and of tame the

flatterer." For it would have been truer to observe that tame flatterers

are those that are found round the baths and table, but the one that

intrudes into the interior of the house and into the women's apartments

with his curiosity and calumny and malignity, like the legs and arms of

the polypus, is wild and savage and unmanageable.

Sec. XX. Now one kind of caution against his snares is to know and ever

remember that, whereas the soul contains true and noble and reasoning

elements, as also unreasoning and false and emotional ones, the friend

is always a counsellor and adviser to the better instincts of the soul,

as the physician improves and maintains health, whereas the flatterer

works upon the emotional and unreasoning ones, and tickles and

titillates them and seduces them from reason, employing sensuality as

his bait. As then there are some kinds of food which neither benefit the

blood or spirit, nor brace up the nerves and marrow, but stir the

passions, excite the lower nature, and make the flesh unsound and

rotten, so the language of the flatterer adds nothing to soberness and

reason, but encourages some love passion, or stirs up foolish rage, or

incites to envy, or produces the empty and burdensome vanity of pride,

or joins in bewailing woes, or ever by his calumnies and hints makes

malignity and illiberality and suspicion sharp and timid and jealous,

and cannot fail to be detected by those that closely observe him. For he

is ever anchoring himself upon some passion, and fattening it, and, like

a bubo, fastens himself on some unsound and inflamed parts of the soul.

Are you angry? Have your revenge, says he. Do you desire anything? Get

it. Are you afraid? Let us flee. Do you suspect? Entertain no doubts

about it. But if he is difficult to detect in thus playing upon our

passions, since they often overthrow reason by their intensity and

strength, he will give a handle to find him out in smaller matters,

being consistent in them too. For if anyone feels a little uneasy after

a surfeit or excess in drink, and so is a little particular about his

food and doubts the advisability of taking a bath, a friend will try and

check him from excess, and bid him be careful and not indulge, whereas

the flatterer will drag him to the bath, bid him serve up some fresh

food, and not starve himself and so injure his constitution. And if he

see him reluctant about a journey or voyage or some business or other,

he will say that there is no hurry, that it's all one whether the

business be put off, or somebody else despatched to look after it. And

if you have promised to lend or give some money to a friend, but have

repented of your offer, and yet feel ashamed not to keep your promise,

the flatterer will throw his influence into the worse scale, he will

confirm your desire to save your purse, he will destroy your reluctance,

and will bid you be careful as having many expenses, and others to think

about besides that person. And so, unless we are entirely ignorant of

our desires, our shamelessness, and our timidity, the flatterer cannot

easily escape our detection. For he is ever the advocate of those

passions, and outspoken when we desire to repress them.[425] But so much

for this matter.

Sec. XXI. Now let us pass on to useful and kind services, for in them too

the flatterer makes it very difficult and confusing to detect him from

the friend, seeming to be zealous and ready on all occasions and never

crying off. For, as Euripides says,[426] a friend's behaviour is, "like

the utterance of truth, simple," and plain and inartificial, while that

of the flatterer "is in itself unsound, and needs wise remedies," aye,

by Zeus, and many such, and not ordinary ones. As for example in chance

meetings the friend often neither speaks nor is spoken to, but merely

looks and smiles, and then passes on, showing his inner affection and

goodwill only by his countenance, which his friend also reciprocates,

but the flatterer runs up, follows, holds out his hand at a distance,

and if he is seen and addressed first, frequently protests with oaths,

and calls witnesses to prove, that he did not see you. So in business

friends neglect many unimportant points, are not too punctilious and

officious, and do not thrust themselves upon every service, but the

flatterer is persevering and unceasing and indefatigable in it, giving

nobody else either room or place to help, but putting himself wholly at

your disposal, and if you will not find him something to do for you, he

is troubled, nay rather altogether dejected and lamenting loudly.[427]

Sec. XXII. To all sensible people all this is an indication, not of true or

sober friendship, but of a meretricious one, that embraces you more

warmly than there is any occasion for. Nevertheless let us first look at

the difference between the friend and flatterer in their promises. For

it has been well said by those who have handled this subject before us,

that the friend's promise is,

"If I can do it, and 'tis to be done,"

but the flatterer's is,

"Speak out your mind, whate'er it is, to me."[428]

And the comic dramatists put such fellows on the stage,

"Nicomachus, pit me against that soldier,

See if I beat him not into a jelly,

And make his face e'en softer than a sponge."[429]

In the next place no friend participates in any matter, unless he has

first been asked his advice, and put the matter to the test, and set it

on a suitable and expedient basis. But the flatterer, if anyone allows

him to examine a matter and give his opinion on it, not only wishes to

gratify him by compliance, but also fearing to be looked upon with

suspicion as unwilling and reluctant to engage in the business, gives in

to and even urges on his friend's desire. For there is hardly any king

or rich man who would say,

"O that a beggar I could find, or worse

Than beggar, if, with good intent to me,

He would lay bare his heart boldly and honestly;"[430]

but, like the tragedians, they require a chorus of sympathizing friends,

or the applause of a theatre. And so Merope gives the following advice

in the tragedy,

"Choose you for friends those who will speak their mind,

For those bad men that only speak to please

See that you bolt and bar out of your house."[431]

But they act just the contrary, for they turn away with horror from

those who speak their mind, and hold different views as to what is

expedient, while they welcome those bad and illiberal impostors (that

only speak to please them) not only within their houses, but also to

their affections and secrets. Now the simpler of these do not think

right or claim to advise you in important matters, but only to assist in

the carrying out of them: but the more cunning one stands by during the

discussion, and knits his brows, and nods assent with his head, but says

nothing, but if his friend express an opinion, he then says, "Hercules,

you only just anticipated me, I was about to make that very remark." For

as the mathematicians tell us that surfaces and lines neither bend nor

extend nor move of themselves, being without body and only perceived by

the mind, but only bend and extend and change their position with the

bodies whose extremities they are: so you will catch the flatterer ever

assenting with, and agreeing with, aye, and feeling with, and being

angry with, another, so easy of detection in all these points of view is

the difference between the friend and the flatterer. Moreover as regards

the kind of good service. For the favour done by a friend, as the

principal strength of an animal is within, is not for display or

ostentation, but frequently as a doctor cures his patient imperceptibly,

so a friend benefits by his intervention, or by paying off creditors, or

by managing his friend's affairs, even though the person who receives

the benefit may not be aware of it. Such was the behaviour of Arcesilaus

on various occasions, and when Apelles[432] of Chios was ill, knowing

his poverty, he took with him twenty drachmae when he visited him, and

sitting down beside him he said, "There is nothing here but those

elements of Empedocles, 'fire and water and earth and balmy expanse of

air,' but you don't lie very comfortably," and with that he moved his

pillow, and privately put the money under it. And when his old

housekeeper found it, and wonderingly told Apelles of it, he laughed and

said, "This is some trick of Arcesilaus." And the saying is also true in

philosophy that "children are like their parents."[433] For when

Cephisocrates had to stand his trial on a bill of indictment, Lacydes

(who was an intimate friend of Arcesilaus) stood by him with several

other friends, and when the prosecutor asked for his ring, which was the

principal evidence against him, Cephisocrates quietly dropped it on the

ground, and Lacydes noticing this put his foot on it and so hid it. And

after sentence was pronounced in his favour, Cephisocrates going up to

thank the jury, one of them who had seen the artifice told him to thank

Lacydes, and related to him all the matter, though Lacydes had not said

a word about it to anybody. So also I think the gods do often perform

benefits secretly, taking a natural delight in bestowing their favours

and bounties.[434] But the good service of the flatterer has no justice,

or genuineness, or simplicity, or liberality about it; but is

accompanied with sweat, and running about, and noise, and knitting of

the brow, creating an impression and appearance of toilsome and bustling

service, like a painting over-curiously wrought in bold colours, and

with bent folds wrinkles and angles, to make the closer resemblance to

life. Moreover he tires one by relating what journeys and anxieties he

has had over the matter, how many enemies he has made over it, the

thousand bothers and annoyances he has gone through, so that you say,

"The affair was not worth all this trouble." For being reminded of any

favour done to one is always unpleasant and disagreeable and

insufferable:[435] but the flatterer not only reminds us of his services

afterwards, but even during the very moment of doing them upbraids us

with them and is importunate. But the friend, if he is obliged to

mention the matter, relates it modestly, and says not a word about

himself. And so, when the Lacedaemonians sent corn to the people of

Smyrna that needed it, and the people of Smyrna wondered at their

kindness, the Lacedaemonians said, "It was no great matter, we only voted

that we and our beasts of burden should go without our dinner one day,

and sent what was so saved to you."[436] Not only is it handsome to do a

favour in that way, but it is more pleasant to the receivers of it,

because they think those who have done them the service have done it at

no great loss to themselves.

Sec. XXIII. But it is not so much by the importunity of the flatterer in

regard to services, nor by his facility in making promises, that one can

recognize his nature, as by the honourable or dishonourable kind of

service, and by the regard to please or to be of real use. For the

friend is not as Gorgias defined him, one who will ask his friend to

help him in what is right, while he will himself do many services for

his friend that are not right.

"For friend should share in good not in bad action."[437]

He will therefore rather try and turn him away from what is not

becoming, and if he cannot persuade him, good is that answer of Phocion

to Antipater, "You cannot have me both as friend and flatterer,"[438]

that is, as friend and no friend. For one must indeed assist one's

friend but not do anything wrong for him, one must advise with him but

not plot with him, one must bear witness for him but not join him in

fraud, one must certainly share adversity with him but not crime. For

since we should not wish even to know of our friends' dishonourable

acts, much less should we desire to share their dishonour by acting with

them. As then the Lacedaemonians, when conquered in battle by Antipater,

on settling the terms of peace, begged that he would lay upon them what

burdens he pleased, provided he enjoined nothing dishonourable, so the

friend, if any necessity arise involving expense or danger or trouble,

is the first to desire to be applied to and share in it with alacrity

and without crying off, but if there be anything disgraceful in

connection with it he begs to have nothing to do with it. The flatterer

on the contrary cries off from toilsome and dangerous employments, and

if you put him to the test by ringing him,[439] he returns a hollow and

spurious sound, and finds some excuse; whereas use him in disgraceful

and low and disreputable service, and trample upon him, he will think no

treatment too bad or ignominious. Have you observed the ape? He cannot

guard the house like the dog, nor bear burdens like the horse, nor

plough like the ox, so he has to bear insult and ribaldry, and put up

with being made sport of, exhibiting himself as an instrument to produce

laughter. So too the flatterer, who can neither advocate your cause, nor

give you useful counsel, nor share in your contention with anybody, but

shirks all labour and toil, never makes any excuses in underhand

transactions, is sure to lend a helping hand in any love affair, is

energetic in setting free some harlot, and not careless in clearing off

the account of a drinking score, nor remiss in making preparations for

banquets, and obsequious to concubines, but if ordered to be uncivil to

your relations, or to help in turning your wife out of doors, he is

relentless and not to be put out of countenance. So that he is not hard

to detect here too. For if ordered to do anything you please

disreputable or dishonourable, he is ready to take any pains to oblige

you.

Sec. XXIV. One might detect again how greatly the flatterer differs from

the friend by his behaviour to other friends. For the friend is best

pleased with loving and being beloved by many, and also always tries to

contrive for his friend that he too may be much loved and honoured, for

he believes in the proverb "the goods of friends are common

property,"[440] and thinks it ought to apply to nothing more than to

friends; but the false and spurious and counterfeit friend, knowing how

much he debases friendship, like debased and spurious coin, is not only

by nature envious, but shows his envy even of those who are like

himself, striving to outdo them in scurrility and gossip, while he

quakes and trembles at any of his betters, not by Zeus "merely walking

on foot by their Lydian chariot," but, to use the language of Simonides,

"not even, having pure lead by comparison with their refined

gold."[441] Whenever then, being light and counterfeit and false, he is

put to the test at close quarters with a true and solid and cast-iron

friendship, he cannot stand the test but is detected at once, and

imitates the conduct of the painter that painted some wretched cocks,

for he ordered his lad to scare away all live cocks as far from his

picture as possible. So he too scares away real friends and will not let

them come near if he can help it, but if he cannot prevent that, he

openly fawns upon them, and courts them, and admires them as his

betters, but privately runs them down and spreads calumnies about them.

And when secret detraction has produced a sore feeling,[442] if he has

not effected his end completely, he remembers and observes the teaching

of Medius, who was the chief of Alexander's flatterers, and a leading

sophist in conspiracy against the best men. He bade people confidently

sow their calumny broadcast and bite with it, teaching them that even if

the person injured should heal his sore, the scar of the calumny would

remain. Consumed by these scars, or rather gangrenes and cancers,

Alexander put to death Callisthenes, and Parmenio, and Philotas; while

he himself submitted to be completely outwitted by such as Agnon, and

Bagoas, and Agesias, and Demetrius, who worshipped him and tricked him

up and feigned him to be a barbaric god. So great is the power of

flattery, and nowhere greater, as it seems, than among the greatest

people. For their thinking and wishing the best about themselves makes

them credit the flatterer, and gives him courage.[443] For lofty heights

are difficult of approach and hard to reach for those who endeavour to

scale them, but the highmindedness and conceit of a person thrown off

his balance by good fortune or good natural parts is easily reached by

mean and petty people.

Sec. XXV. And so we advised at the beginning of this discourse, and now

advise again, to cut off self-love and too high an opinion of ourselves;

for that flatters us first, and makes us more impressionable and

prepared for external flatterers. But if we hearken to the god, and

recognize the immense importance to everyone of that saying, "Know

thyself,"[444] and at the same time carefully observe our nature and

education and training, with its thousand shortcomings in respect to

good, and the large proportion of vice and vanity mixed up with our

words and deeds and feelings, we shall not make ourselves so easy a mark

for flatterers. Alexander said that he disbelieved those who called him

a god chiefly in regard to sleep and the sexual delight, for in both

those things he was more ignoble and emotional than in other

respects.[445] So we, if we observe the blots, blemishes, shortcomings,

and imperfections of our private selves, shall perceive clearly that we

do not need a friend who shall bestow upon us praise and panegyric, but

one that will reprove us, and speak plainly to us, aye, by Zeus, and

censure us if we have done amiss. For it is only a few out of many that

venture to speak plainly to their friends rather than gratify them, and

even among those few you will not easily find any who know how to do so

properly, for they think they are outspoken when they abuse and scold.

And yet, just as in the case of any other medicine, to employ freedom of

speech unseasonably is only to give needless pain and trouble, and in a

manner to do so as to produce vexation the very thing the flatterer does

so as to produce pleasure. For it does people harm not only to praise

them unseasonably but also to blame them unseasonably, and especially

exposes them to the successful attack of flatterers, for, like water,

they abandon the rugged hills for the soft grassy valleys. And so

outspokenness ought to be tempered with kindness, and reason ought to be

called in to correct its excessive tartness, (as we tone down the too

powerful glare of a lamp), that people may not, by being troubled and

grieved at continual blame and rebuke, fly for refuge to the shade of

the flatterer, and turn aside to him to free themselves from annoyance.

For we ought, Philopappus, to banish all vice by virtue, not by the

opposite vice, as some hold,[446] by exchanging modesty for impudence,

and countrified ways for town ribaldry, and by removing their character

as far as possible from cowardice and effeminacy, even if that should

make people get very near to audacity and foolhardiness. And some even

make superstition a plea for atheism, and stupidity a plea for knavery,

perverting their nature, like a stick bent double, from inability to set

it straight. But the basest disowning of flattery is to be disagreeable

without any purpose in view, and it shows an altogether inelegant and

clumsy unfitness for social intercourse to shun by unpleasing moroseness

the suspicion of being mean and servile in friendship; like the freedman

in the comedy who thought railing only enjoying freedom of speech.

Seeing then, that it is equally disgraceful to become a flatterer

through trying only to please, as in avoiding flattery to destroy all

friendship and intimacy by excessive freedom of speech, we must avoid

both these extremes, and, as in any other case, make our freedom of

speech agreeable by its moderation. So the subject itself seems next to

demand that I should conclude it by discussing that point.

Sec. XXVI. As then we see that much trouble arises from excessive freedom

of speech, let us first of all detach from it any element of self-love,

being carefully on our guard that we may not appear to upbraid on

account of any private hurt or injury. For people do not regard a speech

on the speaker's own behalf as arising from goodwill, but from anger,

and reproach rather than admonition. For freedom in speech is friendly

and has weight, but reproach is selfish and little. And so people

respect and admire those that speak their mind freely, but accuse back

and despise those that reproach them: as Agamemnon would not stand the

moderate freedom of speech of Achilles, but submitted to and endured

the bitter attack and speech of Odysseus,

"Pernicious chief, would that thou didst command

Some sorry host, and not such men as these!"[447]

for he was restrained by the carefulness and sobriety of his speech, and

also Odysseus had no private motive of anger but only spoke out on

behalf of Greece,[448] whereas Achilles seemed rather vexed on his own

account. And Achilles himself, though not sweet-tempered or mild of

mood, but "a terrible man, and one that would perchance blame an

innocent person,"[449] yet silently listened to Patroclus bringing

against him many such charges as the following,

"Pitiless one, thy sire never was

Knight Peleus, nor thy mother gentle Thetis,

But the blue sea and steep and rocky crags

Thy parents were, so flinty is thy heart."[450]