As when the fig-tree’s juice curdles and binds white milk,[192]

as Empedocles says; this on the other hand unties, rends, and breaks

the bond, distracts our inclinations with too much variety; and the

agreeable just mixture of affection, the very cement of true friends,

is wholly lost in so loose and confused a conversation. Hence at once

arises great inequality with respect to the services of friendship,

and a foolish diffidence in the performance of them. For multiplicity

of friends renders those very parts of friendship vain and useless

whence advantage was most expected; neither can we hope it should be

otherwise, if we consider how “one man is acted upon by his nature and

another by his cares and anxieties.” Nature hath not bestowed the same

inclinations on all, nor are we all born to the same fortune; and the

occasions of our actions, like the wind, may often favor one of our

acquaintance while they stand cross to another.

6. However, suppose by great chance all should agree to crave

assistance in the same affair, whether at a consult, exercise of a

public trust in the government, canvassing for preferment, entertaining

guests, or the like; yet it is exceeding hard to satisfy all. But now

if they are engaged in diverse concerns at the very same moment of

time, and every one should make his particular request to you, one

to take a voyage with him, another to assist in pleading his cause, a

third to prosecute a criminal, a fourth to help in managing his trade,

another to celebrate his wedding, and another to attend a funeral,—

And the whole city’s filled with incense smoke,

And songs of triumph mixt with groans resound;[193]

I say, in this case, it is utterly impossible to answer the requests

of all, to gratify none is absurd, and to serve only one and disoblige

the rest is a thing grievous and intolerably rude;—“for no one, when

he loves a friend, will bear to be neglected.”[194] If indeed you could

persuade that inadvertency was the cause of the omission, you might

more easily hope a pardon; and to plead forgetfulness is a sort of

excuse which perhaps might pass without much angering your friend; but

to allege “I could not be advocate in your cause, being of counsel for

another,” or “I could not visit you in a fever, because I was invited

to a feast elsewhere,” while it is thus confessed that we neglect one

friend to pay our respects to another, is so far from extenuating the

offence, that it highly aggravates it, and adds all the jealousies of

rivalry.

But commonly men overlook these and such like inconveniences of a

numerous acquaintance, and take only a prospect of its advantages, not

in the least reflecting that whoever employs many assistants in his

affairs must in gratitude repay his service to as many when they need

it; and as Briareus, who with his hundred hands was daily obliged for

his bare subsistence to feed fifty stomachs, could thrive no better

than ourselves, who supply a single one with two hands, so a man of

many friends cannot boast any other privilege but that of being a slave

to many, and of sharing in all the business, cares, and disquiet that

may befall them. Nor can Euripides help him by advising that

Best suited to the state

Of mortal life are mutual friendships formed

With moderation, such as take not root

Deep in the soul, affections that with ease

May be relaxed, or closer bound at will,[195]

that is, we may pull in and let out our friendships like a sail, as the

wind happens to blow. Let us rather, good Euripides, turn this saying

of yours to enmity; for heats and animosities ought to be moderate, and

never reach the inmost recesses of the soul; hatred, anger, complaints,

and jealousies may with good reason be readily appeased and forgotten.

Therefore it is far more advisable, as Pythagoras directs, “not to

shake hands with too many,”—that is, not to make many friends,—nor to

affect that popular kind of easiness which courts and embraces every

acquaintance that occurs, but carries with it on the reverse a thousand

mischiefs; among which (as was before hinted) to bear part of the same

cares, to be affected with the same sorrows, and to be embroiled in the

same enterprises and dangers with any great number of friends will be a

sort of life hardly tolerable even to the most ingenuous and generous

tempers. What Chilon the wise man remarked to one who said he had no

enemies, namely, “Thou seemest rather to have no friends,” has a great

deal of truth; for enmities always keep pace and are interwoven with

friendships.

7. And it is impossible any should be friends that resent not mutually

the affronts and injuries offered unto either, and that do not hate

alike and in common. They also who are enemies to yourself will

presently suspect and hate your friend; nay, your other friends too

will often envy, calumniate, and undermine him. Wherefore what the

oracle foretold Timesias concerning his planting a colony, that an hive

of bees should be changed into a nest of wasps, may not impertinently

be applied to those who seek after a hive of friends, but light before

they know it upon a wasps-nest of enemies.

Besides, we should do well to consider that the kindest affections

of friends seldom compensate for the misfortunes that befall us from

the malice of enemies. It is well known how Alexander treated the

familiars of Philotas and Parmenio; Dionysius, those of Dion; Nero,

those of Plautus; and Tiberius, those of Sejanus; all shared the same

hard fate of being racked and tortured to death. For as the gold and

riches Creon’s daughter was adorned with could not secure the good old

father from being consumed in her flames, endeavoring too officiously

to rescue her; so not a few partake of the calamities and ruin of

their friends, before they have reaped the least advantage from their

prosperity; a misfortune to which philosophers and the best-natured men

are the most liable. This was the case of Theseus, who for the sake

of his dear Pirithous shared his punishment, and was bound with him

in the same eternal chains.[196] Thus in the plague of Athens, says

Thucydides,[197] the most generous and virtuous citizens, while without

regard to their own safety they visited their sick, frequently perished

with their friends.

8. Such accidents as these ought to admonish us not to be too prodigal

of our virtue, nor inconsiderately to prostitute our perfections to the

enjoyment of every little thing that pretends to be our humble admirer;

rather let us reserve them for the worthy, for those who can love

and share another’s joys and sorrows like ourselves. And truly, this

alone renders it most unlikely that many men should remain friends,

that real friendship has always its origin from likeness. For, we

may observe, even brute and inanimate beings affect their like, very

readily mixing and uniting with those of their own nature; while with

great reluctance and a kind of indignation they shrink from and avoid

whatever differs from themselves, and force can scarce oblige them to

the loathed embraces. By what motive then can we imagine any league of

amity can be kept inviolable amidst a multitude, where manners admit of

so much variety, where desires and humors will be perpetually jarring,

where the several courses of life must needs be almost as unlike as

constitutions and faces? A musical concord consists of contrary sounds,

and a due composition of flat and sharp notes makes a delightful tune;

but as for friendship, that is a sort of harmony all of a piece, and

admits not the least inequality, unlikeness, or discords of parts, but

here all discourses, opinions, inclinations, and designs serve one

common interest, as if several bodies were acted and informed by the

same soul.

9. Now is there any person living of that industrious, pliant, and

universal humor, who can take the pains exactly to imitate all shapes,

and will not rather deride the advice of Theognis[198] as absurd and

impossible, namely, to learn the craft of the polypus, which puts on

the hue of every stone it sticks to? However, the changes of this

fish are only superficial, and the colors are produced in the skin,

which by its closeness or its laxity receives various impressions from

neighboring objects; whereas the resemblance betwixt friends must be

far more than skin-deep, must be substantial, such as may be traced in

every action of their lives, in all their affections, dispositions,

words and purposes, even to their most retired thoughts. To follow the

advice of Theognis would be a task worthy of a Proteus, who was neither

very fortunate nor very honest, but could by enchantment transform

himself in an instant from one shape to another. Even so, he that

entertains many friends must be learned and bookish among the learned,

go into the arena with wrestlers, drudge cheerfully after a pack of

hounds with gentlemen that love hunting, drink with debauchees, and sue

for office with politicians; in fine, he must have no proper principles

of actions and humors of his own, but those of the present company

he converses with. Thus, as the first matter of the philosophers is

originally without shape or color, yet being the subject of all natural

changes takes by its own inherent forces the forms of fire, water, air,

and solid earth; so a person that affects a numerous friendship must

possess a mind full of folds and windings, subject to many passions,

inconstant as water, and easy to be transformed into an infinite

variety of shapes. But real friendship requires a sedate, stable, and

unalterable temper; so that it is a rare thing and next a miracle to

find a constant and sure friend.

THE FIRST ORATION OF PLUTARCH CONCERNING THE FORTUNE OR VIRTUE OF

ALEXANDER THE GREAT.

1. This is the oration of Fortune, asserting and challenging Alexander

to be her masterpiece, and hers alone. In contradiction to which it

behooves us to say something on the behalf of philosophy, or rather

in the defence of Alexander himself, who cannot choose but spurn away

the very thought of having received his empire as a gift at the hands

of Fortune, knowing that it was so dearly bought with the price of his

lost blood and many wounds, and that in gaining it,

Full many a bloody day

In toilsome fight he spent,

And many a wakeful night

In battle’s management;[199]

and all this in opposition to armies almost irresistible, numberless

nations, rivers before impassable, and rocks impenetrable; choosing,

however, for his chiefest guides and counsellors prudence, endurance,

fortitude, and steadiness of mind.

2. And now, methinks, I hear him speaking thus to Fortune, when she

signalizes herself with his successes:—

Envy not my virtue, nor go about to detract from my honor. Darius

was a fabric of thy own rearing, who of a servant and the king’s

courier was by thee advanced to be monarch of all Persia. The same

was Sardanapalus, who from a comber of purple wool was raised by

thee to wear the royal diadem. But I, subduing as I marched, from

Arbela forced my passage even to Susa itself. Cilicia opened me a

broad way into Egypt; and the Granicus, o’er which I passed without

resistance, trampling under foot the slain carcasses of Mithridates

and Spithridates, opened the way into Cilicia. Pamper up thyself, and

boast thy kings that never felt a wound nor ever saw a finger bleed;

for they were fortunate, it is true,—thy Ochi and thy Artaxerxes,—who

were no sooner born but they were by thee established in the throne

of Cyrus. But my body carries many marks of Fortune’s unkindness, who

rather fought against me as an enemy than assisted me as her friend.

First, among the Illyrians I was wounded in the head with a stone, and

received a blow in the neck with an iron mace. Then, near the Granicus

my head was a second time gashed with a barbarian scimitar; at Issus

I was run through the thigh with a sword; at Gaza I was shot in the

ankle with a dart; and not long after, falling heavy from my saddle, I

forced my shoulder out of joint. Among the Maracadartae my shinbone was

split with an arrow. The wounds I received in India and my strenuous

acts of daring courage will declare the rest. Then among the Assacani

I was shot through the shoulder with another arrow. Encountering the

Gandridae, my thigh was wounded; and one of the Mallotes drew his bow

with that force, that the well-directed arrow made way through my iron

armor to lodge itself in my breast; besides the blow in my neck, when

the scaling-ladders brake that were set to the walls, and Fortune left

me alone, to gratify with the fall of so great a person not a renowned

or illustrious enemy, but ignoble and worthless barbarians. So that

had not Ptolemy covered me with his shield, and Limnaeus, after he had

received a thousand wounds directed at my body, fallen dead before me;

or if the Macedonians, breathing nothing but courage and their prince’s

rescue, had not opened a timely breach, that barbarous and nameless

village might have proved Alexander’s tomb.

3. Take the whole expedition together, and what was it but a patient

endurance of cold winters and parching droughts; depths of rivers,

rocks inaccessible to the winged fowl, amazing sights of strange wild

beasts, savage diet, and lastly revolts and treasons of far-controlling

potentates. As to what before the expedition befell me, it is well

known that all Greece lay gasping and panting under the fatal effects

of the Philippic wars. But then the Thebans, raising themselves upon

their feet again after so desperate a fall, shook from their arms the

dust of Chaeronea; with them also joined the Athenians, reaching forth

their helping hands. The treacherous Macedonians, studying nothing

but revenge, cast their eyes upon the sons of Aeropus; the Illyrians

brake out into an open war; and the Scythians hung in equal balance,

seeing their neighbors meditating new revolutions; while Persian gold,

liberally scattered among the popular leaders of every city, put all

Peloponnesus into motion.

King Philip’s treasuries were at that time empty, and besides he was

in debt, as Onesicritus relates, two hundred talents. In the midst of

so much pressing want and such menacing troubles, a youth but new past

the age of childhood durst aspire to the conquest of Babylon and Susa,

or rather project in his thoughts supreme dominion over all mankind;

and all this, trusting only to the strength of thirty thousand foot

and four thousand horse. For so many there were, by the account which

Aristobulus gives; by the relation of King Ptolemy, there were five

thousand horse; from both which Anaximenes varying musters up the

foot to three and forty thousand, and the horse to five thousand five

hundred. Now the glorious and magnificent sum which Fortune had raised

up to supply the necessities of so great an expedition was no more than

seventy talents, according to Aristobulus; or, as Duris records it,

only thirty days’ provision.

4. You will say therefore that Alexander was too rash and daringly

inconsiderate, with such a slender support to rush upon so vast an

opposition. By no means: for who was ever better fitted than he

for splendid enterprises, with all the choicest and most excelling

precepts of magnanimity, consideration, wisdom, and virtuous

fortitude, with which a philosophical education largely supplied him

for his expedition? So that we may properly affirm that he invaded

Persia with greater assistance from Aristotle than from his father

Philip. As for those who write how Alexander was wont to say that

the Iliad and Odyssey had always followed him in his wars, in honor

to Homer I believe them. Nevertheless, if any one affirm that the

Iliad and Odyssey were admitted of his train merely as the recreation

of his wearied thoughts or pastime of his leisure hours, but that

philosophical learning, and commentaries concerning contempt of fear,

fortitude, temperance, and nobleness of spirit, were the real cabinet

provision which he carried along for his personal use, we contemn

their assertion. For he was not a person that ever wrote concerning

arguments or syllogisms; none of those who observed walks in the

Lyceum, or held disputes in the Academy; for they who thus circumscribe

philosophy believe it to consist in discoursing, not in action. And

yet we find that neither Pythagoras nor Socrates, Arcesilaus nor

Carneades, was ever celebrated for his writings, though they were the

most approved and esteemed among all the philosophers. Yet no such busy

wars as these employed their time in civilizing wild and barbarous

kings, in building Grecian cities among rude and unpolished nations,

nor in settling government and peace among people that lived without

humanity or control of law. They only lived at ease, and surrendered

the business and trouble of writing to the more contentious Sophists.

Whence then came it to pass that they were believed to be philosophers?

It was either from their sayings, from the lives they led, or from the

precepts which they taught. Upon these grounds let us take a prospect

of Alexander, and we shall soon find him, by what he said, by what he

acted, and by the lessons he taught, to be a great philosopher.

5. And first, if you please, consider that which seems the farthest

distant of all from the common received opinion, and compare the

disciples of Alexander with the pupils of Plato and Socrates. The

latter instructed persons ingenuous, such as speak the same speech,

well understanding (if nothing else) the Grecian language. But there

were many with whom their precepts did not prevail; for men like

Critias, Alcibiades, and Cleitophon shook off their doctrine like a

bridle, and followed the conduct of their own inclinations.

On the other side, take a view of Alexander’s discipline, and you shall

see how he taught the Hyrcanians the conveniency of wedlock, introduced

husbandry among the Arachosians, persuaded the Sogdians to preserve and

cherish—not to kill—their aged parents; the Persians to reverence and

honor—not to marry—their mothers. Most admirable philosophy! which

induced the Indians to worship the Grecian Deities, and wrought upon

the Scythians to bury their deceased friends, not to feed upon their

carcasses. We admire the power of Carneades’s eloquence, for forcing

the Carthaginian Clitomachus, called Asdrubal before, to embrace the

Grecian customs. No less we wonder at the prevailing reason of Zeno, by

whom the Babylonian Diogenes was charmed into the love of philosophy.

Yet no sooner had Alexander subdued Asia, than Homer became an author

in high esteem, and the Persian, Susian, and Gedrosian youth sang the

tragedies of Euripides and Sophocles. Among the Athenians, Socrates,

introducing foreign Deities, was condemned to death at the prosecution

of his accusers. But Alexander engaged both Bactria and Caucasus to

worship the Grecian Gods, which they had never known before. Lastly,

Plato, though he proposed but one single form of a commonwealth, could

never persuade any people to make use of it, by reason of the austerity

of his government. But Alexander, building above seventy cities among

the barbarous nations, and as it were sowing the Grecian customs and

constitutions all over Asia, quite weaned them from their former wild

and savage manner of living. The laws of Plato here and there a single

person may peradventure study, but myriads of people have made and

still make use of Alexander’s. And they whom Alexander vanquished were

more greatly blessed than they who fled his conquests. For these had

none to deliver them from their ancient state of misery; the others the

victor compelled to better fortune. True therefore was that expression

of Themistocles, when he was a fugitive from his native country, and

the king entertained him with sumptuous presents, assigning him three

stipendiary cities to supply his table, one with bread, a second with

wine, a third with all manner of costly viands; Ah! young men, said he,

had we not been undone, we had surely been undone. It may, however, be

more justly averred of those whom Alexander subdued, had they not been

vanquished, they had never been civilized. Egypt had not vaunted her

Alexandria, nor Mesopotamia her Seleucia; Sogdiana had not gloried in

her Propthasia, nor the Indians boasted their Bucephalia, nor Caucasus

its neighboring Grecian city; by the founding of all which barbarism

was extinguished and custom changed the worse into better.

If then philosophers assume to themselves their highest applause for

cultivating the most fierce and rugged conditions of men, certainly

Alexander is to be acknowledged the chiefest of philosophers, who

changed the wild and brutish customs of so many various nations,

reducing them to order and government.

6. It is true indeed that the so much admired commonwealth of Zeno,

first author of the Stoic sect, aims singly at this, that neither

in cities nor in towns we should live under laws distinct one from

another, but that we should look upon all men in general to be our

fellow-countrymen and citizens, observing one manner of living and one

kind of order, like a flock feeding together with equal right in one

common pasture. This Zeno wrote, fancying to himself, as in a dream,

a certain scheme of civil order, and the image of a philosophical

commonwealth. But Alexander made good his words by his deeds; for he

did not, as Aristotle advised him, rule the Grecians like a moderate

prince and insult over the barbarians like an absolute tyrant; nor did

he take particular care of the first as his friends and domestics, and

scorn the latter as mere brutes and vegetables; which would have filled

his empire with fugitive incendiaries and perfidious tumults. But

believing himself sent from Heaven as the common moderator and arbiter

of all nations, and subduing those by force whom he could not associate

to himself by fair offers, he labored thus, that he might bring all

regions, far and near, under the same dominion. And then, as in a

festival goblet, mixing lives, manners, customs, wedlock, all together,

he ordained that every one should take the whole habitable world for

his country, of which his camp and army should be the chief metropolis

and garrison; that his friends and kindred should be the good and

virtuous, and that the vicious only should be accounted foreigners. Nor

would he that Greeks and barbarians should be distinguished by long

garments, targets, scimitars, or turbans; but that the Grecians should

be known by their virtue and courage, and the barbarians by their vices

and their cowardice; and that their habit, their diet, their marriage

and custom of converse, should be everywhere the same, engaged and

blended together by the ties of blood and pledges of offspring.

7. Therefore it was that Demaratus the Corinthian, an acquaintance

and friend of Philip, when he beheld Alexander in Susa, bursting into

tears of more than ordinary joy, bewailed the deceased Greeks, who,

as he said, had been bereaved of the greatest blessing on earth, for

that they had not seen Alexander sitting upon the throne of Darius.

Though most assuredly, for my part, I do not envy the beholders this

show, which was only a thing of chance and a happiness of more ordinary

kings. But I would gladly have been a spectator of those majestic

and sacred nuptials, when, after he had betrothed together a hundred

Persian brides and a hundred Macedonian and Greek bridegrooms, he

placed them all at one common table within the compass of one pavilion

embroidered with gold, as being all of the same family; and then,

crowned with a nuptial garland, and being himself the first to sing an

epithalamium in honor of the conjunction between two of the greatest

and most potent nations in the world, of only one the bridegroom, of

all the brideman, father, and moderator, he caused the several couples

to be severally married. Had I but beheld this sight, ecstasied with

pleasure I should have then cried out: “Barbarous and stupid Xerxes,

how vain was all thy toil to cover the Hellespont with a floating

bridge! Thus rather wise and prudent princes join Asia to Europe. They

join and fasten nations together not with boards or planks, or surging

brigandines, not with inanimate and insensible bonds, but by the

ties of legitimate love, chaste nuptials, and the infallible gage of

progeny.”

8. But then, when he considered the Eastern garments, Alexander

preferred the Persian before the Median habit, though much the

meaner and more frugal garb. Therefore rejecting the gaudy and

scenical ornament of barbarian gallantry, such as were the tiara and

candys, together with the upper breeches, according to the report of

Eratosthenes, he ordered a mixture of the Macedonian and Persian modes

to be observed in all the garments which he wore. As a philosopher,

he contented himself with mediocrity; but as the common chieftain of

both and as a mild and affable prince, he was willing to gain the

affection of the vanquished by the esteem which he showed to the mode

of the country; that so they might continue the more steadfast and

loyal to the Macedonians, not hating them as their enemies, but loving

them as their princes and rulers. This behavior was contrary to that

of persons insipid and puffed up with prosperity, who wedded to their

own humors admire the single colored robe but cannot endure the tunic

bordered with purple, or else are well pleased with the latter and hate

the former, like young children, in love with the mode in which, as

another nurse, their country’s custom first apparelled them. And yet we

see that they who hunt wild beasts clothe themselves with their hairy

skins; and fowlers make use of feathered jerkins; nor are others less

wary how they show themselves to wild bulls in scarlet or to elephants

in white; for those creatures are provoked and enraged at the sight of

these colors. If then this potent monarch, designing to reclaim and

civilize stubborn and warlike nations, took the same course to soften

and allay their inbred fury which others take with wild beasts, and at

length brought them to be tame and tractable by making use of their

familiar habits and by submitting to their customary course of life,

thereby removing animosity from their breasts and sour looks from their

countenances, shall we blame his management; or rather must we not

admire the wisdom of him who by so slight a change of apparel ruled all

Asia, subduing their bodies with his arms and vanquishing their minds

with his habit? It is a strange thing; we applaud Socratic Aristippus,

because, being sometimes clad in a poor threadbare cloak, sometimes in

a Milesian robe, he kept a decency in both; but they censure Alexander,

because he gave some respect to the garb and mode of those whom he had

vanquished, as well as to that of his native country; not considering

that he was laying the foundation of vast achievements. It was not his

design to ransack Asia like a robber, or to despoil and ruin it, as

the prey and rapine of unexpected good fortune, as afterwards Hannibal

pillaged Italy, and before him the Treres ravaged Ionia and the

Scythians harassed Media,—but to subdue all the kingdoms of the earth

under one form of government, and to make one nation of all mankind.

So that if the same Deity which hither sent the soul of Alexander had

not too soon recalled it, one law had overlooked all the world, and one

form of justice had been as it were the common light of one universal

government; while now that part of the earth which Alexander never saw

remains without a sun.

9. Thus, in the first place, the very scope and aim of Alexander’s

expedition speaks him a philosopher, as one that sought not to gain for

himself luxurious splendor or riches, but to establish concord, peace,

and mutual community among all men.

Next, let us consider his sayings, seeing that the souls of other

kings and potentates betray their conditions and inclinations by their

expressions. Antigonus the Aged, having heard a certain poet sing

before him a short treatise concerning justice, said, Thou art a fool

to mention justice to me, when thou seest me thundering down the cities

belonging to other people about their ears. Dionysius the Tyrant was

wont to say that children were to be cheated with dice, but men with

oaths. Upon the monument of Sardanapalus this inscription is to be

seen:—

All I did eat and drink, and all that lust

To me vouchsafed, I have; all else is gone.

What now can a man say of these apophthegms, but that the first denotes

injustice and immoderate desire of sovereignty; the next impiety; and

the third sensuality? But as for the sayings of Alexander, set aside

his diadem, his claimed descent from Ammon, and the nobility of his

Macedonian extraction, and you would believe them to have been the

sayings of Socrates, Plato, or Pythagoras. For we omit the swelling

hyperboles of flattery which poets have inscribed under his images

and statues, studying rather to extol the power of Alexander than his

moderation and temperance; as, for example,—

The statue seems to look to Jove and say,

Take thou Olympus; me let Earth obey!

and that other,—

This is Alexander the son of Jove.

But these, as I said, were only the flashes of poetic adulation

magnifying his good success. Let us therefore come to such sentences

as were really uttered by Alexander himself, beginning first with the

early blossoms of his childhood.

It is well known that for swiftness in running he exceeded all

that were of his years; for which reason some of his most familiar

play-fellows would have persuaded him to show himself at the Olympic

games. He asked them whether there were any kings to contend with him.

And when they replied that there were none, he said, The contest then

is unequal, for I can conquer only private men, while they may conquer

a king.

His father, King Philip, being run through the thigh in a battle

against the Triballi, and, though he escaped the danger, being not a

little troubled at the deformity of his limping; Be of good cheer,

father, said he, and show yourself in public, that you may be reminded

of your bravery at every step.

Are not these the products of a mind truly philosophical, which by an

inspired inclination to what is noble already contemns the disfigurings

of the body? Nor can we otherwise believe but that he himself gloried

in his own wounds, which every time he beheld them called to his

remembrance the conquered nation and the victory, what cities he had

taken, what kings had surrendered themselves; never striving to conceal

or cover those indelible characters and scars of honor, which he

always carried about him as the engraven testimonies of his virtue and

fortitude.

10. Then again, if any dispute arose or judgment were to be given upon

any of Homer’s verses, either in the schools or at meals, this that

follows he always preferred above the rest,—

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