Men despise the poet, as if, in order to carry out his absurd mythological scheme, he denied each man his liberty of will. Now Homer does nothing of this kind, for whatever is reasonable and likely he ascribes to the exercise of our own powers, as we see in the common phrase--
"But I reflected in my mighty soul;"
and--
"Thus spoke he, but the son of Peleus raged, Divided was his soul within his breast;"
and again--
"But she persuaded not The wise Bellerophon, of noble mind."
But in strange and unlikely actions, where the actors must have been under the influence of some supernatural impulse, he does speak of the god not as destroying, but as directing the human will; nor does the god directly produce any decision, but suggests ideas which influence that decision. Thus the act is not an involuntary one, but opportunity is given for a voluntary act, with confidence and good hope superadded. For either we must admit that the gods have no dealings and influence at all with men, or else it must be in this way that they act when they assist and strengthen us, not of course by moving our hands and feet, but by filling our minds with thoughts and ideas which either encourage us to do what is right, or restrain us from what is wrong.
XXXIII. At Rome at this time the women were praying in all the temples, especially in that of Jupiter in the Capitol, where the noblest ladies in Rome were assembled. Among them was Valeria, the sister of the great Poplicola, who had done such great services to the State both in peace and war. Poplicola died some time before, as has been related in his Life, but his sister was held in great honour and esteem in Rome, as her life did credit to her noble birth. She now experienced one of the divine impulses of which I have spoken, and, inspired by Heaven to do what was best for her country, rose and called on the other ladies to accompany her to the house of Volumnia, the mother of Marcius. On entering, and finding her sitting with her daughter-in-law, nursing the children of Marcius, Valeria placed her companions in a circle round them, and spoke as follows: "Volumnia, and you, Virgilia, we have come to you, as women to women, without any decree of the Senate or instructions from a magistrate; but Heaven, it would appear, has heard our prayers, and has inspired us with the idea of coming hither to beg of you to save our countrymen, and to gain for yourselves greater glory than that of the Sabine women when they reconciled their husbands and their fathers. Come with us to Marcius, join us in supplicating him for mercy, and bear an honourable testimony to your country, that it never has thought of hurting you, however terribly it has been injured by Marcius, but that it restores you to him uninjured, although possibly it will gain no better terms by so doing." When Valeria had spoken thus, the other women applauded, and Volumnia answered in the following words: "My friends, besides those sufferings which all are now undergoing, we are especially to be pitied. We have lost the glory and goodness of our Marcius, and now see him more imprisoned in than protected by the army of the enemy. But the greatest misfortune of all is that our country should have become so weak as to be obliged to rest its hopes of safety on us. I cannot tell if he will pay any attention to us, seeing that he has treated his native country with scorn, although he used to love it better than his mother, his wife, and his children. However, take us, and make what use of us you can. Lead us into his presence, and there, if we can do nothing else, we can die at his feet supplicating for Rome."
XXXIV. Having spoken thus, she took Virgilia and her children, and proceeded, in company with the other women, to the Volscian camp. Their piteous appearance produced, even in their enemies, a silent respect.
Marcius himself was seated on his tribunal with the chief officers; and when he saw the procession of women was at first filled with amazement; but when he recognised his mother walking first, although he tried to support his usual stern composure, he was overcome by his emotion. He could not bear to receive her sitting, but descended and ran to meet her. He embraced his mother first, and longest of all; and then his wife and children, no longer restraining his tears and caresses, but completely carried away by his feelings.
XXXV. When he had taken his fill of embraces, perceiving that his mother desired to address him, he called the chiefs of the Volscians together, and listened to Volumnia, who addressed him as follows:
"You may judge, my son, by our dress and appearance, even though we keep silence, to what a miserable condition your exile has reduced us at home. Think now, how unhappy we must be, beyond all other women, when fortune has made the sight which ought to be most pleasing to us, most terrible, when I see my son, and your wife here sees her husband, besieging his native city. Even that which consoles people under all other misfortunes, prayer to the gods, has become impossible for us. We cannot beg of heaven to give us the victory and to save you, but our prayers for you must always resemble the imprecations of our enemies against Rome. Your wife and children are in such a position, that they must either lose you or lose their native country. For my own part, I cannot bear to live until fortune decides the event of this war. If I cannot now persuade you to make a lasting peace, and so become the benefactor instead of the scourge of the two nations, be well assured that you shall never assail Rome without first passing over the corpse of your mother. I cannot wait for that day on which I shall either see my countrymen triumphing over my son, or my son triumphing over his country. If indeed I were to ask you to betray the Volscians and save your country, this would be a hard request for you to grant; for though it is base to destroy one's own fellow citizens, it is equally wrong to betray those who have trusted you. But we merely ask for a respite from our sufferings, which will save both nations alike from ruin, and which will be all the more glorious for the Volscians because their superiority in the field has put them in a position to grant us the greatest of blessings, peace and concord, in which they also will share alike with us. You will be chiefly to be thanked for these blessings, if we obtain them, and chiefly to be blamed if we do not. For though the issue of war is always doubtful, this much is evident, that if you succeed, you will become your country's evil genius, and if you fail, you will have inflicted the greatest miseries on men who are your friends and benefactors, merely in order to gratify your own private spite."
XXXVI. While Volumnia spoke thus, Marcius listened to her in silence.
After she had ceased, he stood for a long while without speaking, until she again addressed him. "Why art thou silent, my son? Is it honourable to make everything give way to your rancorous hatred, and is it a disgrace to yield to your mother, when she pleads for such important matters? Does it become a great man to remember that he has been ill treated, and does it not rather become him to recollect the debt which children owe to their parents. And yet no one ought to be more grateful than you yourself, who punish ingratitude so bitterly: in spite of which, though you have already taken a deep revenge on your country for its ill treatment of you, you have not made your mother any return for her kindness. It would have been right for me to gain my point without any pressure, when pleading in such a just and honourable cause; but if I cannot prevail by words, this resource alone is left me." Saying this, she fell at his feet, together with his wife and children. Marcius, crying out, "What have you done to me, mother?" raised her from the ground, and pressing her hand violently, exclaimed, "You have conquered; your victory is a blessed one for Rome, but ruinous to me, for I shall retreat conquered by you alone." After speaking thus, and conferring for a short time in private with his mother and his wife, he at their own request sent them back to Rome, and the following night led away the Volscian army. Various opinions were current among the Volscians about what had taken place. Some blamed him severely, while others approved, because they wished for peace. Others again, though they disliked what he had done, yet did not regard him as a traitor, but as a soft-hearted man who had yielded to overwhelming pressure. However, no one disobeyed him, but all followed him in his retreat, though more out of regard for his noble character than for his authority.
XXXVII. The Roman people, when the war was at an end, showed even more plainly than before what terror and despair they had been in. As soon as they saw the Volscians retreating from their walls, all the temples were opened, and filled with worshippers crowned with garlands and sacrificing as if for a victory. The joy of the senate and people was most conspicuously shown in their gratitude to the women, whom they spoke of as having beyond all doubt saved Rome. The senate decreed that the magistrates should grant to the women any mark of respect and esteem which they themselves might choose. The women decided on the building of the temple of Female Fortune, the expenses of which they themselves offered to subscribe, only asking the state to undertake the maintenance of the services in it. The senate praised their public spirit, but ordered the temple and shrine to be built at the public expense.
Nevertheless, the women with their own money provided a second image of the goddess, which the Romans say, when it was placed in the temple was heard to say,
"A pleasing gift have women placed me here."
XXXVIII. The legend says that this voice was twice heard, which seems impossible and hard for us to believe. It is not impossible for statues to sweat, to shed tears, or to be covered with spots of blood, because wood and stone often when mouldering or decaying, collect moisture within them, and not only send it forth with many colours derived from their own substance, but also receive other colours from the air; and there is nothing that forbids us to believe that by such appearances as these heaven may foreshadow the future. It is also possible that statues should make sounds like moaning or sighing, by the tearing asunder of the particles of which they are composed; but that articulate human speech should come from inanimate things is altogether impossible, for neither the human soul, nor even a god can utter words without a body fitted with the organs of speech. Whenever therefore we find many credible witnesses who force us to believe something of this kind, we must suppose that the imagination was influenced by some sensation which appeared to resemble a real one, just as in dreams we seem to hear when we hear not, and to see when we see not. Those persons, however, who are full of religious fervour and love of the gods, and who refuse to disbelieve or reject anything of this kind, find in its miraculous character, and in the fact that the ways of God are not as our ways, a great support to their faith. For He resembles mankind in nothing, neither in nature, nor movement, nor learning, nor power, and so it is not to be wondered at if He does what seems to us impossible. Nay, though He differs from us in every respect, it is in his works that He is most unlike us. But, as Herakleitus says, our knowledge of things divine mostly fails for want of faith.
XXXIX. When Marcius returned to Antium, Tullus, who had long hated him and envied his superiority, determined to put him to death, thinking that if he let slip the present opportunity he should not obtain another. Having suborned many to bear witness against him, he called upon him publicly to render an account to the Volscians of what he had done as their general. Marcius, fearing to be reduced to a private station while his enemy Tullus, who had great influence with his countrymen, was general, answered that he had been given his office of commander-in-chief by the Volscian nation, and to them alone would he surrender it, but that as to an account of what he had done, he was ready at that moment, if they chose, to render it to the people of Antium. Accordingly the people assembled, and the popular orators endeavoured by their speeches to excite the lower classes against Marcius. When, however, he rose to speak, the mob were awed to silence, while the nobility, and those who had gained by the peace, made no secret of their good will towards him, and of their intention to vote in his favour. Under these circumstances, Tullus was unwilling to let him speak, for he was a brilliant orator, and his former services far outweighed his last offence. Indeed, the whole indictment was a proof of how much they owed him, for they never could have thought themselves wronged by not taking Rome, if Marcius had not brought them so near to taking it. Tullus, therefore, thought that it would not do to wait, or to trust to the mob, but he and the boldest of his accomplices, crying out that the Volscians could not listen to the traitor, nor endure him to play the despot over them by not laying down his command, rushed upon him in a body and killed him, without any of the bystanders interfering in his behalf. However, the most part of the nation was displeased at this act, as was soon proved by the numbers who came from every city to see his dead body, by the splendid funeral with which he was honoured, and by the arms and trophies which were hung over his tomb, as that of a brave man and a consummate general.
The Romans, when they heard of his death, made no sign of either honour or anger towards him, except that they gave permission to the women, at their request, to wear mourning for him for ten months, as if they were each mourning for her father, her brother, or her son. This was the extreme limit of the period of mourning, which was fixed by Numa Pompilius, as has been related in his Life.
The loss of Marcius was at once felt by the Volscians. First of all, they quarrelled with the Aequi, their friends and allies, and even came to blows with them; next, they were defeated by the Romans in a battle in which Tullus was slain, and the flower of the Volscian army perished.
After this disaster they were glad to surrender at discretion, and become the subjects of Rome.
COMPARISON OF ALKIBIADES AND CORIOLANUS.
I. As all the most memorable achievements of both Alkibiades and Coriolanus are now before us, we may begin our comparison by observing that as to military exploits, the balance is nearly even; for both alike gave proofs of great personal bravery and great skill in generalship, unless it be thought that Alkibiades proved himself the more perfect general because of his many victories both by sea and land. Both alike obtained great success for their native countries while they remained in command of their countrymen, and both succeeded even more remarkably when fighting against them. As to their respective policy, that of Alkibiades was disliked by the more respectable citizens, because of his personal arrogance, and the arts to which he stooped to gain the favour of the lower classes; while the proud ungracious haughtiness of Coriolanus caused him to be hated by the people of Rome. In this respect neither of them can be praised; yet he who tries to gain the favour of the people is less to blame than he who insults them for fear he should be thought to court them. Although it is wrong to flatter the people in order to gain power, yet to owe one's power only to terror, and to ill treat and keep down the masses is disgraceful as well as wrong.
II. It is not difficult to see why Marcius is considered to have been a simple-minded and straightforward character, while Alkibiades has the reputation of a false and tricky politician. The latter has been especially blamed for the manner in which he deceived and outwitted the Lacedaemonian ambassadors, by which, as we learn from Thucydides, he brought the truce between the two nations to an end. Yet that stroke of policy, though it again involved Athens in war, rendered her strong and formidable, through the alliance with Argos and Mantinea, which she owed to Alkibiades. Marcius also, we are told by Dionysius, produced a quarrel between the Romans and the Volscians by bringing a false accusation against those Volscians who came to see the festival at Rome; and in this case the wickedness of his object increased his guilt, because he did not act from a desire of personal aggrandisement, or from political rivalry, as did Alkibiades, but merely yielding to what Dion calls the unprofitable passion of anger, he threw a large part of Italy into confusion, and in his rage against his native country destroyed many innocent cities. On the other hand, the anger of Alkibiades caused great misfortune to his countrymen; yet as soon as he found that they had relented towards him he returned cheerfully to his allegiance, and after being banished for the second time, did not take any delight in seeing their generals defeated, and could not sit still and let them make mistakes and uselessly expose themselves to danger. He did just what Aristeides is so much praised for doing to Themistokles; he went to the generals, although they were not his friends, and pointed out to them what ought to be done.
Marcius, again, is to be blamed for having made the whole of Rome suffer for what only a part of it had done, while the best and most important class of citizens had been wronged equally with himself, and warmly sympathised with him. Afterwards, although his countrymen sent him many embassies, beseeching his forgiveness for their one act of ignorance and passion, he would not listen to them, but showed that it was with the intention of utterly destroying Rome, not of obtaining his own restoration to it, that he had begun that terrible and savage war against it. This, then, may be noted as the difference between their respective positions: Alkibiades went back to the Athenian side when the Spartans began to plot against him, because he both feared them and hated them; but Marcius, who was in every respect well treated by the Volscians, could not honourably desert their cause. He had been elected their commander-in-chief, and besides this great power enjoyed their entire confidence; while Alkibiades, though his assistance was found useful by the Lacedaemonians, was never trusted by them, but remained without any recognised position, first in Sparta and then in the camp in Asia Minor, till he finally threw himself into the arms of Tissaphernes, unless, indeed, he took this step to save Athens, hoping some day to be restored to her.
III. As to money, Alkibiades has been blamed for receiving it discreditably in bribes, and for spending it in luxurious extravagance; while the generals who offered Marcius money as an honourable reward for his valour could not prevail upon him to accept it. This, however, made him especially unpopular in the debates about freeing the people from debt, because it was said that he pressed so hardly on the poor, not because he wished to make money by them, but purely through arrogance and pride. Antipater, in a letter to a friend on the death of Aristotle the philosopher, observes, "Besides his other abilities, the man had the art of persuasion." Now Marcius had not this art; and its absence made all his exploits and all his virtues unpleasant even to those who benefited by them, as they could not endure his pride and haughtiness, which brooked no compeer. Alkibiades, on the other hand, knew how to deal on friendly terms with every one, and we need not therefore be surprised at the pleasure which men took in his successes, while even some of his failures had a charm of their own for his friends. Hence it was that Alkibiades, even after inflicting many grievous losses upon his countrymen, was chosen by them as commander-in-chief, whereas Marcius, when after a splendid display of courage and conduct he tried for the consulship which he deserved, failed to obtain it. The one could not be hated by his countrymen, even when they were ill treated by him; while the other, though admired by all, was loved by none.
IV. Marcius, indeed, effected nothing great when in command of his own countrymen, but only when fighting against them, whereas the Athenians frequently benefited by the successes of Alkibiades, when he was acting as their commander-in-chief. Alkibiades when present easily triumphed over his enemies, whereas Marcius, although present, was condemned by the Romans, and put to death by the Volscians. Moreover, though he was wrongfully slain, yet he himself furnished his enemies with a pretext for his murder, by refusing the public offer of peace made by the Romans, and then yielding to the private entreaties of his mother and wife, so that he did not put an end to the enmity between the two nations, but left them at war, and yet lost a favourable opportunity for the Volscians.
If he was influenced by a feeling of duty towards the Volscians, he ought to have obtained their consent before withdrawing their forces from before Rome; but if he cared nothing for them, or for anything except the gratification of his own passion, and with this feeling made war upon his country, and only paused in the moment of victory, it was not creditable to him to spare his country for his mother's sake, but rather he should have spared his country and his mother with it; for his mother and his wife were but a part of Rome, which he was besieging.
That he should have treated the public supplications of ambassadors and the prayers of priests with contempt, and afterwards have drawn off his forces to please his mother, is not so much a credit to her as a disgrace to his country, which was saved by the tears and entreaties of one woman, as though it did not deserve to survive on its own merits.
The mercy which he showed the Romans was so harshly and offensively granted that it pleased neither party; he withdrew his forces without having either having come to an understanding with his friends or his foes. All this must be attributed to his haughty, unbending temper, which is in all cases odious, but which in an ambitious man renders him savage and inexorable. Such men will not seek for popularity, thinking themselves already sufficiently distinguished, and then are angry at finding themselves unpopular.
Indeed, neither Metellus, nor Aristeides, nor Epameinondas would stoop to court the favour of the people, and had a thorough contempt for all that the people can either give or take away; yet although they were often ostracised, convicted, and condemned to pay fines, they were not angry with their fellow countrymen for their folly, but came back and became reconciled to them as soon as they repented. The man who will not court the people, ought least of all to bear malice against them, reflecting that anger at not being elected to an office in the state, must spring from an excessive desire to obtain it.
V. Alkibiades made no secret of his delight in being honoured and his vexation when slighted, and in consequence endeavoured to make himself acceptable to all with whom he had to do. Marcius was prevented by his pride from courting those who could have bestowed honour and advancement upon him, while his ambition tortured him if these were withheld.
These are the points which we find to blame in his character, which in all other respects was a noble one. With regard to temperance, and contempt for money, he may be compared with the greatest and purest men of Greece, not merely with Alkibiades, who cared only too little for such things, and paid no regard to his reputation.
LIFE OF TIMOLEON.
It was for the sake of others that I first undertook to write biographies, but I soon began to dwell upon and delight in them for myself, endeavouring to the best of my ability to regulate my own life, and to make it like that of those who were reflected in their history as it were in a mirror before me. By the study of their biographies, we receive each man as a guest into our minds, and we seem to understand their character as the result of a personal acquaintance, because we have obtained from their acts the best and most important means of forming an opinion about them. "What greater pleasure could'st thou gain than this?" What more valuable for the elevation of our own character?
Demokritus says, that we ought to pray that we may meet with propitious phantasms, and that from the infinite space which surrounds us good and congenial phantasms, rather than base and sinister ones, may be brought into contact with us. He degrades philosophy by foisting into it a theory which is untrue, and which leads to unbounded superstition; whereas we, by our familiarity with history, and habit of writing it, so train ourselves by constantly receiving into our minds the memorials of the great and good, that should anything base or vicious be placed in our way by the society into which we are necessarily thrown, we reject it and expel it from our thoughts, by fixing them calmly and severely on some of these great examples. Of these, I have chosen for you in this present instance, the life of Timoleon the Corinthian, and that of Aemilius Paulus, men who both laid their plans with skill, and carried them out with good fortune, so as to raise a question whether it was more by good luck or by good sense that they succeeded in their most important achievements.
I. The state of affairs at Syracuse, before the mission of Timoleon to Sicily, was this. Dion had driven out the despot[A] Dionysius, but was immediately afterwards slain by treachery, and those who, under Dion, had freed the Syracusans, quarrelled amongst themselves. The city, which received a constant succession of despots, was almost forsaken because of its many troubles. Of the rest of Sicily, one part was rendered quite ruined and uninhabited by the wars, and most of the cities were held by barbarians of various nations, and soldiers who were under no paymaster.
As these men willingly lent their aid to effect changes of dynasty, Dionysius, in the twelfth year of his exile, collected a body of foreign troops, drove out Nysaeus, the then ruler of Syracuse, again restored his empire, and was re-established as despot. He had strangely lost the greatest known empire at the hands of a few men, and more strangely still became again the lord of those who had driven him out, after having been an exile and a beggar. Those then of the Syracusans who remained in the city were the subjects of a despot not naturally humane, and whose heart now had been embittered by misfortune:[B] but the better class of citizens and the men of note fled to Hiketes, the ruler of Leontini, swore allegiance to him, and chose him as their general for the war. This man was nowise better than the avowed despots, but they had no other resource, and they trusted him because he was a Syracusan by birth, and had a force capable of encountering that of their own despot.
[Footnote A: [Greek: tyrannos], here and elsewhere translated _despot_, means a man who had obtained irresponsible power by unconstitutional means.]
[Footnote B: Compare Tacitus, "eo immitior quia toleraverat."]
II. Meanwhile the Carthaginians came to Sicily with a great fleet, and were hovering off the island watching their opportunity. The Sicilians in terror wished to send an embassy to Greece, and ask for help from the Corinthians, not merely on account of their kinship with them, and of the many kindnesses which they had received from them, but also because they saw that the whole city loved freedom, and hated despots, and that it had waged its greatest and most important wars, not for supremacy and greed of power, but on behalf of the liberty of Greece. But Hiketes who had obtained his post of commander-in-chief with a view, not to the liberation of Syracuse, but the establishment of himself as despot there, had already had secret negotiations with the Carthaginians, though in public he commended the Syracusans, and sent ambassadors of his own with the rest to Peloponnesus: not that he wished that any assistance should come thence, but, in case the Corinthians, as was probable, should refuse their help because of the disturbed state of Greece, he hoped that he should more easily be able to bring matters round to suit the Carthaginian interest, and to use them as allies either against the Syracusan citizens, or against their despot. Of this treacherous design he was shortly afterwards convicted.
III. When the ambassadors arrived, the Corinthians, who had always been in the habit of watching over the interests of their colonies, especially Syracuse, and who were not at war with any of the Greek States at that time, but living in peace and leisure, eagerly voted to help them. A General was now sought for, and while the government was nominating and proposing those who were eager for an opportunity of distinguishing themselves, a man of the people stood up and named Timoleon, the son of Timodemus, one who no longer took any part in politics, and who had no hope or thought of obtaining the post: but some god, it seems, put it into the man's mind to name him, such a kind fortune was at once shown at his election, and such success attended his actions, illustrating his noble character. He was of a good family, both his father Timodemus, and his mother Demariste being of rank in the city. He was a lover of his country, and of a mild temper, except only that he had a violent hatred for despotism and all that is base. His nature was so happily constituted, that in his campaigns he showed much judgment when young, and no less daring when old. He had an elder brother, Timophanes, who was in no respect like him, but rash, and inflamed with a passion for monarchy by worthless friends and foreign soldiers, with whom he spent all his time: he was reckless in a campaign, and loved danger for its own sake, and by this he won the hearts of his fellow-citizens, and was given commands, as being a man of courage and of action. Timoleon assisted him in obtaining these commands, by concealing his faults or making them appear small, and by magnifying the clever things which he did.
IV. Now in the battle which the Corinthians fought against the Argives and Kleoneans, Timoleon was ranked among the hoplites,[A] and his brother Timophanes, who was in command of the cavalry, fell into great danger. His horse received a wound, and threw him off among the enemy.
Of his companions, some at once dispersed in panic, while those who remained by him, being a few against many, with difficulty held their own. When Timoleon saw what had happened, he ran to the rescue, and held his shield in front of Timophanes as he lay, and, after receiving many blows, both from missiles and in hand-to-hand fight, on his arms and body, with difficulty drove back the enemy and saved his brother.
[Footnote A: Heavy armed foot-soldiers, carrying a spear and shield.]
When the Corinthians, fearing lest they might again suffer what they did once before when their own allies took their city, decreed that they would keep four hundred mercenary soldiers, they made Timophanes their commander.
But he, disdaining truth and honour, immediately took measures to get the city into his own power, and showed his tyrannical disposition by putting to death many of the leading citizens without a trial. Timoleon was grieved at this, and, treating the other's crime as his own misfortune, endeavoured to argue with him, and begged him to abandon his foolish and wicked design, and to seek for some means of making amends to his fellow-citizens. However, as he rejected his brother's advice, and treated him with contempt, Timoleon took Aeschylus, his kinsman, brother of the wife of Timophanes, and his friend the seer, whom Theopompus calls Satyrus, but Ephorus and Timaeus call Orthagoras, and, after an interval of a few days, again went to his brother. The three men now stood round him, and besought him even now to listen to reason, and repent of his ambition; but as Timophanes at first laughed at them, and then became angry and indignant, Timoleon stepped a little aside, and covering his face, stood weeping, while the other two drew their swords and quickly despatched him.
V. When this deed was noised abroad, the more generous of the Corinthians praised Timoleon for his abhorrence of wickedness and his greatness of soul, because, though of a kindly disposition, and fond of his own family, he had nevertheless preferred his country to his family, and truth and justice to his own advantage. He had distinguished himself in his country's cause both by saving his brother's life, and by putting him to death when he plotted to reduce her to slavery. However, those who could not endure to live in a democracy, and who were accustomed to look up to those in power, pretended to rejoice in the death of the tyrant, but by their abuse of Timoleon for having done an unholy and impious deed, reduced him to a state of great melancholy. Hearing that his mother took it greatly to heart, and that she used harsh words and invoked terrible curses upon him, he went to her to try to bring her to another state of mind, but she would not endure the sight of him, but shut the door against him. Then indeed he became very dejected, and disordered in his mind, so as to form an intention of destroying himself by starvation; but this his friends would not permit, but prevailed on him by force and entreaty so that he determined to live, but alone by himself. He gave up all interest in public affairs, and at first did not even enter the city, but passed his time wandering in the wildest part of the country in an agony of mind.
VI. Thus our judgments, if they do not borrow from reason and philosophy a fixity and steadiness of purpose in their acts, are easily swayed and influenced by the praise or blame of others, which make us distrust our own opinions.