Quomodo adulator ab amico internoscatur

Plutarch

Plutarch. Moralia, Vol. I. Babbitt, Frank Cole, translator. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1927 (printing).

One mode of protection, as it would seem, is to realize and remember always that our soul has its two sides: on the one side are truthfulness, love for what is honourable, and power to reason, and on the other side irrationality, love of falsehood, and the emotional element; the friend is always found on the better side as counsel and advocate, trying, after

the manner of a physician, to foster the growth of what is sound and to preserve it; but the flatterer takes his place on the side of the emotional and irrational, and this he excites and tickles and wheedles, and tries to divorce from the reasoning powers by contriving for it divers low forms of pleasurable enjoyment. There are some sorts of food, for example, that are without affinity for either the blood or the breath, which add no vigour to nerves or marrow, but only excite the lower passions, arouse the appetite, and make unsound flesh that is morbid within. So the flatterer’s talk adds nothing to the thinking and reasoning powers, but only promotes familiarity with some amorous pleasure, intensifies a foolish fit of temper, provokes envy, engenders an offensive and inane bulk of conceit, commiserates in distress, or, by a succession of slanders and forebodings, causes malice, illiberality and distrust to grow bitter, timorous, and suspicious; and these are all matters that will not escape the observant. For the flatterer is always covertly on the watch for some emotion, and pampering it, and his presence is like that of a tumour in that he ever comes immediately following some morbid or inflamed condition of the soul. Are you angry? Punish then. Do you crave a thing? Then buy it. Are you afraid? Let’s run away. Have you a suspicion? Then give it credence. But if it is hard to detect the flatterer when he is engaged with these major emotions, inasmuch as our power to reason is deranged by their vehemence and magnitude, yet with the lesser ones he will better give a vantage, since his behaviour here will be the same. For example, if a man is afraid that he may
have a headache or a digestive upset from drinking or eating to excess, and hesitates about bathing and taking food, a friend will try to hold him back, and advise him to be careful and cautious, but the flatterer drags him off to the baths, and bids him order some novel dish, and not to maltreat his body by forced abstinence. And if he sees his man to be feebly inclined towards some journey or voyage or undertaking, he will say that the occasion is not pressing but that they will accomplish the same result by postponement or by sending somebody else. If the man, after promising money as a loan or a gift to some personal friend, wants to change his mind, but is ashamed to do so, the flatterer throws his weight upon the worse inclination, strengthens his opinion touching his purse, and banishes his feeling of mortification, bidding him be economical, since he has many expenses and many mouths to feed. It follows, therefore, that if we are not unaware of our own feelings of covetousness, shamelessness, and cowardice, we shall not be unaware of the flatterer. For he always acts as an advocate of such emotions, and is frank in discussing the results to which they lead. This, then, is enough on this subject.

Let us come without more ado to the topic of services and ministrations; for it is in these that the flatterer brings about a great confusion and uncertainty in regard to the difference between himself and the friend, because he appears to be brisk and eager in everything and never to make an excuse. For the character of a friend, like the language of truth, is, as Euripides [*](Euripides, Phoenissae, 469, 472.) puts it, simple, plain, and unaffected, whereas that of the flatterer, in very truth

Self-sick, hath need of dextrous remedies, and of a good many too, I venture to affirm, and of an uncommon sort. Take the case of one person meeting another: a friend sometimes, without the exchange of a word, but merely by a glance and a smile, gives and receives through the medium of the eyes an intimation of the goodwill and intimacy that is in the heart, and passes on. But the flatterer runs, pursues, extends his greeting at a distance, and if he be seen and spoken to first, he pleads his defence with witnesses and oaths over and over again. It is the same with actions: friends omit many of the trifling formalities, not being at all exacting or officious in this respect, not putting themselves forward for every kind of ministration; whereas the flatterer is in these matters persistent, assiduous, and untiring, giving to no one else place or space for a good office, but he is eager for orders, and if he receives none he is nettled, or rather he is utterly dispirited and gives way to lamentations.

Now to people of sense these are manifestations, not of a pure nor a chaste friendship, but of a friendship that is more ready than it should be to solicit and embrace. We need first, however, to consider the difference shown by the two men in offering their services. It has been well said by writers before our time that a friend’s offer takes this form:

Yes, if I have the power, and if it can be accomplished,[*](Homer, Il. xiv. 196; xviii. 427; Od. v. 90.)
while a flatterer’s is like this:
Speak what you have in mind.[*](Homer, Il. xiv. 195; xviii. 426; Od. v. 89. )
In fact the comic poets introduce on the stage characters of this sort:
Match me, Nicomachus, against that brute; If I don’t pulp his carcase with my whip And make his visage softer than a sponge.[*](Kock, Com. Att. Frag. iii. p. 432, Adespot. No. 125.)
In the second place, no friend enters into cooperation unless he has first been taken into consultation, and then only after he has examined the undertaking and agreed in setting it down as fitting or expedient; but if anyone concedes to the flatterer an opportunity to take part in examining and pronouncing upon some matter in hand, inasmuch as he not only desires to yield and give gratification, but also fears to afford suspicion that he may draw back and avoid the task, he gives way and adds his urgency to the other’s desires. For it is not easy to find a wealthy man or a king who will say:
Give me a beggar—and if he so will, Worse than a beggar—who, through love for me Leaves fear behind, and speaks his heart’s belief; [*](From the Ino of Euripides; Nauck, Trag. Graec. Frag., Eurip. No. 412.)
but such people, like the tragedians, want to have a chorus of friends singing the same tune or a sympathetic audience to applaud them. This is the reason why Merope in the tragedy gives this advice:
Have friends who are not yielding in their speech, But let your house be barred against the knaves Who try by pleasing you to win regard.[*](Part of a much longer fragment from the Erechtheus of Euripides; Nauck, Trag. Graec. Frag., Eurip. No. 362, xi. 18-20. There is no evidence, save this quotation, for Merope’s appearance in the play, and it seems much more probably that the lines were spoken by Praxithea, the wife of Erechtheus.)
But such people generally do just the opposite; they abominate those who are not yielding in speech, who take a stand against them for their own good, while the knaves who try to win regard, the
servile impostors, they receive not only within their houses barred, but even within their secret emotions and concerns. The more simple-minded of such flatterers does not think it necessary or proper that he be taken into consultation regarding matters of this sort, but only that he be a ministrant and servant; whereas the more unscrupulous will do no more than to join in the deliberation, contracting his brows, and looking his assent, but says not a word. However, if the other man states his view, then he says, Gad, but you got a bit ahead of me; I was just going to say that very thing. Now the mathematicians tell us that surfaces and lines do not bend or extend or move of themselves, being imaginary conceptions without material substance, but that they bend and extend and change their position along with the bodies of which they are the boundaries: so, too, you shall detect the flatterer by his being always in agreement with his victim in words and expressions, —yes, in pleasures and in angry passions too—so that in these matters, at least, the difference is quite easy to detect. Still more is this evident in the manner of his ministrations. For a gracious act on the part of a friend is like a living thing: it has its most potent qualities deep within it, and there is nothing on the surface to suggest show or display; but, as a physician cures without his patient’s knowledge, so oftentimes a friend does a good turn by interceding or by settling, while the object of his solicitude knows nothing of it. Such a friend was Arcesilaus in all his dealings, and this was especially seen of him when he discovered the poverty of Apelles of Chios, who was ill; for on his next visit he came with twenty shillings, and taking a seat by the bed,
remarked, There is nothing here but Empedocles’ elements,
Fire and water and earth and the gentle heights of ether.[*](From a much longer quotation; cf. Diels, Fragmente der Vorsokratiker, I. 230, i. 18.)
But you are not even lying at ease. And with that he re-arranged his pillow, and, unobserved, slipped the money underneath. When the aged servingwoman discovered it, and in amazement announced her discovery to Apelles, he said with a laugh, Arcesilaus contrived that fraud! Moreover, the saying that children are born like their parents [*](Cf. Hesiod, Works and Days, 235.) holds true in the field of philosophy. At any rate, Lacydes, the associate of Arcesilaus, stood by Cephisocrates, as did his other friends, when he was impeached; [*](The facts are not otherwise known.) and when the prosecutor demanded his ring, Cephisocrates quietly let it fall beside him, and Lacydes, perceiving this, put his foot on it and concealed it; for the tell-tale evidence was in the ring. After the verdict, Cephisocrates was shaking hands with the jurors, when one of them, who apparently had seen what happened, bade him thank Lacydes, and related the whole affair; but Lacydes had told it to nobody. So, too, I imagine the gods confer their benefits, for the most part, without our knowledge, since it is their nature to take pleasure in the mere act of being gracious and doing good. But the flatterer’s activity shows no sign of honesty, truth, straightforwardness, or generosity, but only sweating and clamour and running to and fro, and a strained look that gives the appearance and suggestion of onerous and urgent business. It is like an extravagantly wrought picture, which by means of gaudy pigments, irregular folds in the garments,
wrinkles, and sharp angles, strives to produce an impression of vividness. He is offensive, too, as he relates how he has had to go hither and thither on the business, how he has worried over it, and then, as he tells of all the enmity he has incurred, and then of his countless troubles and great tribulations; and, as a result, he gets a declaration that it was not worth all that. For any favour that evokes a reproach from its recipient is offensive, disfavoured, intolerable; and in the flatterer’s favours there is this reproach and mortification, which is felt, not at some later time, but at the very time when they are performed. But if a friend has to tell what he has done, he reports it modestly and says nothing about himself. It was in this spirit that the Lacedaemonians sent corn to the people of Smyrna in their need, and when these expressed their admiration of the gracious action, the Lacedaemonians said, It was nothing of any importance; we merely voted that we and our cattle go without dinner for one day, and collected the amount. Such graciousness is not only the mark of a generous spirit, but it is pleasanter for the recipients, since they feel that those who assist them suffer no great damage.

It is not therefore by the flatterer’s offensiveness in his ministrations, or by his facile way of offering his services, that one can best learn to know his nature, but a better distinction may be found in the nature of his service, whether it is honourable or dishonourable, and whether its purpose is to give pleasure or help. For a friend will not, as Gorgias was wont to declare, expect his friend to support him in honest projects, and yet himself serve the other in many also that are dishonest, for he

In virtue joins, and not in viciousness.[*](Euripides, Iphigenia at Aulis, 407.)
Much rather, therefore, will he try to turn his friend aside from what is unbecoming; and if he cannot persuade him, then he may well retort with Phocion’s remark [*](Again referred to by Plutarch, Moralia, 142 B, 188 F; Life of Phocion, chap. xxx. (755 B); and Life of Agis, chap. ii. (795 E).) to Antipater: You cannot use me as both friend and flatterer, that is as a friend and not a friend. For one should assist a friend in doing, not in misdoing, in advising, not in ill-devising, in supporting his conclusions, not his delusions, in sharing his mishaps, not his misdeeds. No, we would choose not even to have knowledge of our friends’ dishonourable actions; how then can we possibly choose to cooperate in them and to share in the unseemly conduct? As the Lacedaemonians, defeated in battle by Antipater, in making terms of peace bade him prescribe any penalty he would, but nothing dishonourable, so a friend, if need befall for his services that involves expense, danger, or labour, is foremost in insisting, without excuse or hesitation, that he be called upon and that he do his share, but wherever disgrace goes with it, he is also foremost in begging to be left alone and spared from participation. But flattery, on the contrary, in arduous and dangerous ministrations fails you, and if you test it by sounding, it does not ring clear, but has an ignoble tone jangling with some excuse; but for any shameful, mean, or disreputable service you may use the flatterer as you will, and treat him as the dirt beneath your feet; and he thinks it nothing dreadful or insulting. You must have noticed the ape. He cannot guard the house like the dog, nor carry a load like the horse,
nor plough the land like oxen; and so he has to bear abuse and scurrility, and endure practical jokes, thus submitting to be made an instrument of laughter. So also with the flatterer: unable to help another with words or money or to back him in a quarrel, and unequal to anything laborious or serious, yet he makes no excuses when it comes to underhand actions, he is a faithful helper in a love-affair, he knows exactly the price to be paid for a prostitute, he is not careless in checking up the charge for a wine supper, nor slow in making arrangements for dinners, he tries to be in the good graces of mistresses; but if bidden to be impudent toward a wife’s relatives or to help in hustling a wife out of doors he is relentless and unabashed. As a result the man is not hard to detect in this way, either; for if he is told to do any disreputable and dishonourable thing that you will, he is ready to be prodigal of himself in trying to gratify the man who tells him to do it.

The great difference between flatterer and friend may be most clearly perceived by his disposition towards one’s other friends. For a friend finds it most pleasant to love and be loved along with many others, and he is always constant in his endeavours that his friend shall have many friends [*](Plutarch has devoted a separate essay (De amicorum multitudine) to this subject ( Moralia, 93 B-79 B).) and be much honoured; believing that friends own everything in common [*](Euripides, Orestes, 735.) he thinks that no possession ought to be held so much in common as friends. But the flatterer is false, spurious, and debased, inasmuch as he fully understands that he is committing a crime against friendship, which in his hands becomes a counterfeit coin as it were. While he is by nature jealous, yet he employs his jealousy against his own kind, striving constantly to outdo them in scurrility

and idle gossip, but he stands in awesome dread of his betters, not indeed because he is
Trudging afoot beside a Lydian chariot,[*](From Pindar, according to Plutarch, Life of Nicias, chap. i. (523 B). Cf. Bergk, Poet. Lyr. Gr. i. 469 (Frag. 206).)
but because, as Simonides [*](Bergk, Poet. Lyr. Gr. iii. 417 (Frag. 64) has adopted an amended reading.) puts it, he
Hath not even lead to show ’Gainst gold refined and unalloyed.
Whenever, then, the flatterer, who is but a light and deceptive plated-ware, is examined and closely compared with genuine and solid-wrought friendship, he does not stand the test, but he is exposed, and so he does the same thing as the man who had painted a wretched picture of some cocks. For the painter bade his servant scare all real cocks as far away as possible from the canvas; and so the flatterer scares all real friends away, and does not allow them to come near; or if he cannot accomplish this, he openly cringes to them, pays them attentions, and makes a great show of respect for them as for superiors, but secretly he is suggesting and spreading some sort of calumny; and when secret talk has caused an irritating sore, even though he be not entirely successful at the outset, yet he remembers and observes the precept of Medius. This Medius was, if I may call him so, leader and skilled master of the choir of flatterers that danced attendance on Alexander, and were banded together against all good men. Now he urged them not to be afraid to assail and sting with their calumnies, pointing out that, even if the man who is stung succeeds in healing the wound, the scar of the calumny will still remain. In fact it was by such scars, or rather such gangrenes
and cancers, that Alexander was consumed so that he destroyed Callisthenes, Parmenio, and Philotas, and put himself without reserve into the hands of men like Hagno, Bagoas, Agesias, and Demetrius, to be brought low, by submitting to be worshipped, bedecked and fantastically tricked out by them, after the manner of a barbaric idol. So great is the power wielded by giving gratification, and it is greatest, apparently, with those who seem to be the greatest personages. For self-conceit regarding the noblest qualities, coupled with the wish to have them, gives both confidence and boldness to the flatterer.[*](Cf. the first chapter of the essay, supra, 49 A.) It is true that lofty places are difficult of approach and access for those who propose to capture them, but loftiness or conceit, in a mind which lacks sense because of the favours of Fortune or Nature, lies at the mercy of the insignificant and mean.

Wherefore I now urge, as I did at the beginning of this treatise, that we eradicate from ourselves self-love and conceit. For these, by flattering us beforehand, render us less resistant to flatterers from without, since we are quite ready to receive them. But if, in obedience to the god, we learn that the precept, Know thyself, is invaluable to each of us, and if at the same time we carefully review our own nature and upbringing and education, how in countless ways they fall short of true excellence, and have inseparably connected with them many a sad and heedless fault of word, deed, and feeling, we shall not very readily let the flatterers walk over us. Now Alexander [*](Cf. Plutarch, Life of Alexander, chap. xxii. (677 B) and Moralia, 717 B.) said that two things moved him to discredit those who proclaimed him a god, his sleeping and his passion for women, evidently feeling that

in these matters he revealed the more ignoble and susceptible side of himself; and so in our own case, if we are careful to observe many and many a fault of our own, shameful and grievous, both of omission and commission, we shall constantly be detecting our own need, not of a friend to commend and extol us, but of a friend to take us to task, to be frank with us, and indeed to blame us when our conduct is bad. For there are but few among many who have the courage to show frankness rather than favour to their friends. And again, among those few you cannot easily find men who know how to do this, but rather you shall find those who think that if they abuse and find fault they use frankness. Yet frankness, like any other medicine, if it be not applied at the proper time, does but cause useless suffering and disturbance, and it accomplishes, one may say, painfully what flattery accomplishes pleasantly. For people are injured, not only by untimely praise, but by untimely blame as well; and it is this especially that delivers them over, broadside on, to the flatterers, an easy prey, since like water they glide away from the steeps that repel toward the valleys that softly invite. Frankness, therefore, should be combined with good manners, and there should be reason in it to take away its excess and intensity, which may be compared to that of light, so that any who are exposed to it shall not, for being disturbed and distressed by those who find fault with everything and accuse every one, take refuge in the shadow of the flatterer, and turn away towards what does not cause pain. Now every form of vice, my dear Philopappus, is to be avoided through virtue, and not through the vice that is its antithesis,[*](Cf. Aristotle, Ethics, ii. 7, and Horace, Satires, i. 2. 24.) as some people, for
instance, think to escape bashfulness through shamelessness, rusticity through scurrility, and to make their manner to be farthest removed from cowardice and softness if they can make themselves seem nearest to impudence and boldness. Others again, to prove themselves free from superstition, adopt atheism, and play the knave to show that they are not fools, and thus distort their character, like a piece of wood, from one form of crookedness to its opposite, because they do not know how to straighten it. But the most shameful way of disavowing the name of flatterer is to cause pain without profit; and it shows an utterly rude and tactless disregard of goodwill in one’s relations with friends to resort to being disagreeable and harsh in order to avoid abasement and servility in friendship. Such a person is like a freedman of the comic stage, who thinks that abuse is a fair use of equal speech. Since, therefore, it is a shameful thing to fall into flattery in aiming to please, and a shameful thing also, in trying to avoid flattery, to destroy the friendly thoughtfulness for another by immoderate liberty of speech, we ought to keep ourselves from both the one and the other extreme, and in frankness, as in anything else, achieve the right from the mean. The subject itself requiring, as it does, consequent elaboration, seems to determine that this be the final complement of our work.

Seeing, therefore, that there are certain fatal faults attending upon frankness, let us in the first place divest it of all self-regard by exercising all vigilance lest we seem to have some private reason for our reproaches, such as a personal wrong or grievance. For people are wont to think that anger, not goodwill, is the motive of a man who

speaks on his own behalf, and that this is not admonition but fault-finding. For frankness is friendly and noble, but fault-finding is selfish and mean. For this reason those who speak frankly are respected and admired, while fault-finders meet with recrimination and contempt. Agamemnon, for instance, has no patience with Achilles, who appears to have spoken with moderate frankness only, but when Odysseus assails him bitterly and says,
Hopeless and helpless! Would you had to rule some other Paltry band, not this,[*](Homer, Il. xiv. 84.)
he yields and puts up with it, quieted by the friendly concern and good sense of the other’s words. For Odysseus, who had no ground for anger personally, spoke boldly to him in behalf of Greece, while Achilles seemed to be incensed chiefly on his own account. And it is true that Achilles himself, although he was not a man of sweet or gentle temper, [*](Ibid. xx. 467.) but a
Terrible man, who is given to blaming even the blameless,[*](A verse made by combining words contained in Homer, Il. xi. 653-4 and xiii. 775.)
submitted himself to Patroclus in silence, although Patroclus often launched upon him strictures like this:
Ruthless man, your sire was not the knightly Peleus, Nor was Thetis your mother; no, the grey-gleaming ocean Bore you, and high rugged rocks, you are so hard-hearted.[*](Homer, Il. xvi. 33.)
The orator Hypereides [*](Cf. Plutarch, Life of Phocion, chap. x. (746 D).) used to tell the Athenians that it was only right that they consider, not merely whether he was bitter, but whether he was so upon no cause; and in the same way, the admonition of
a thing to be treated with respect and reverence, not to be faced out. And if one also makes it clear that in speaking frankly he is leaving out of all account or consideration his friend’s lapses toward himself, but taking him to task for certain other shortcomings, and that it is in the interest of other persons that he visits him with stinging reproof so unsparingly, the force of such frankness is irresistible, and the generous attitude of the speaker serves only to intensify the bitterness and severity of his admonition. Therefore, while it has been well said that when we are angry or at variance with friends, we ought then most of all to be doing or planning what will be for their advantage or interest, yet it is no less material in friendship, when we feel that we ourselves are slighted and neglected, to speak frankly in behalf of others who are likewise being neglected, and to remind our friends of them. For example, Plato, in the midst of suspicions and disagreements with Dionysius, asked him for an appointment for an interview, and Dionysius granted it, supposing that Plato had some long tale of fault-finding to rehearse on his own account. But Plato talked with him somewhat after this fashion: If you should learn, Dionysius, that some ill-disposed man had made the voyage to Sicily, cherishing the desire to do you harm, but unable to find an opportunity, would you allow him to sail away, and should you let him withdraw unscathed? Far from it, Plato, said Dionysius, for not only the acts of enemies but their intentions as well must be detested and punished. If now, said Plato, somebody has come hither out of goodwill to you, wishing to be the author of some good to you, but you give him no
opportunity, is it proper to let such a man go without showing him any gratitude or attention? When Dionysius asked who the man was, Aeschines, he said, in character as fair as any one of Socrates’ companions, and potent in speech to improve those with whom he may associate; but after sailing hither over a vast expanse of the sea in order to discuss philosophy with you, he finds himself neglected. These words so moved Dionysius, that he straightway embraced Plato affectionately, marvelling at his kindliness and high-mindedness, and afterwards he paid to Aeschines honourable and distinguished attentions.

In the second place, then, let us purge away, as it were, and eliminate from our frankness all arrogance, ridicule, scoffing, and scurrility, which are the unwholesome seasoning of free speech. Just as a certain orderliness and neatness should pervade the work of a surgeon when he performs an operation, but his hand should forbear all dancing and reckless motions, all flourishes and superfluity of gesticulation, so frankness has plenty of room for tact and urbanity, if such graciousness does not impair the high office of frankness; but when effrontery and offensiveness and arrogance are coupled with it, they spoil and ruin it completely. There was point, therefore, and polish in the retort with which the harper [*](The story is repeated by Plutarch, Moralia, 179 B, 334 D, and 634 D.) stopped Philip’s mouth when Philip attempted to argue with him about playing upon his instrument. God forbid, said he, that your Majesty should ever fall so low as to have a better knowledge of these matters than I. But Epicharmus was not right in his retort upon Hiero, who had made away with some of his intimate friends, and then a few days later invited

Epicharmus to dinner. But the other day, said Epicharmus, you held a sacrifice without invitation, of friends! As badly answered Antiphon, when the question was up for discussion in the presence of Dionysius as to what is the best kind of bronze, and he said, The kind from which they fashioned the statues of Harmodius and Aristogeiton [*](The traditional tyrannicides of Athens.) at Athens. For the offensiveness and bitterness of such retorts profits nothing, their scurrility and frivolity gives no pleasure; but a retort of this kind betokens intemperance of the tongue combined with malice and arrogance, and not without enmity. By employing it men eventually bring about their own destruction, since they are simply dancing on the edge of the pit. For Antiphon was put to death by order of Dionysius, and Timagenes lost his place in Caesar’s [*](Caesar Augustus.) friendship because, while he never indulged in any high-minded utterance, yet in social gatherings and in discussions, for no serious purpose at all, but
Whatsoever he thought would move the Argives to laughter,[*](Homer, Il. ii. 215.)
he would on every possible occasion put forward friendship’s cause as an artful excuse for railing. It is true that the comic poets [*](Aristophanes, for example, as in the Frogs 686 ff.) addressed to their audiences many stern rebukes of value to the citizens; but the admixture of drollery and scurrility in them, like a vile dressing with food, made their frankness ineffective and useless, so that there was nothing left for the authors but a name of malice and coarseness, and no profit for the hearers from their words. On other occasions jest and laughter may well enough be employed with friends, but frankness of speech ought to have seriousness and
character. And if it concern matters of greater moment, let feeling be so evident, the countenance so serious, and the voice so earnest that the words may claim credence and touch the heart. Failure to observe the proper occasion is in any case exceedingly harmful, but particularly when frankness is concerned it destroys its profitableness. That in the midst of wine and hard drinking we must be on our guard against anything of this sort is plain enough. It is like overcasting fair weather with a storm-cloud, when in the midst of jesting and merrymaking someone starts a discussion that makes others frown and sets the face in rigid lines, as though the topic were meant to combat the god of Relaxation who relaxes the bond of troubled cares, as Pindar [*](Bergk, Poet. Lyr. Gr. i. 480 (Frag. 248). Lyaeus, an epithet of Bacchus, Plutarch assumes to be derived from λύειν, to loose.) puts it. This neglect of occasion contains a great danger also. For men’s minds are perilously inclined to anger on account of the wine, and oftentimes heavy drinking takes control of their frankness and creates enmity. And in general, it does not show a noble or stout heart, but unmanliness rather, for one who never displays boldness of speech when he is sober to be bold at table, as is the way of cowardly curs. There is no need, then, to multiply words on this subject.

Now we observe that many people have neither the assurance nor the courage to school their friends when these are prospering, but on the contrary feel that good fortune is altogether inaccessible and impregnable to admonition, whereas, when one of their friends has fallen and come to grief, they assail him and trample upon him now he is reduced to a subordinate and humble position, letting loose upon him a flood of frank speech, like a stream which has been held in unnatural restraint, and they find a welcome

pleasure in the change because of their friend’s former disdain and their own weakness; it would therefore be well to discuss this matter also, and to make a reply to Euripides [*](Orestes, 667.) when he says,
When Heaven grants us luck, what need of friends?
The reply is, that in good fortune men have most need of friends to speak frankly and reduce their excess of pride. For there are few persons who in good fortune have still a sober mind; most have need of discretion and reason to be put into them from without, which shall repress them when they are puffed up and unsettled with the favours of fortune. But when the Heavenly power casts them down and strips off their importance, there is in these calamities alone admonition enough to work repentance. Wherefore at such a time there is no use for a friend’s frankness or for words charged with grave and stinging reproof; but in such reversals truly
’Tis sweet to gaze into a kind man’s eyes,[*](Euripides, Ion, 732.)
when he offers consolation and encouragement. And this was true of Clearchus, the sight of whose face, Xenophon [*](Anabasis, ii. 6. 11.) says, so kindly and benevolent in the midst of battles and perils, strengthened the confidence of the men in the face of danger. But he who applies frankness of speech and stinging reproof to a person in misfortune, might as well apply some stimulant of vision to a disordered and inflamed eye; he effects no cure nor any abatement of the pain, but only adds irritation to the painfulness, and exasperates the sufferer. Thus no man in good health, for instance, is at all harsh or ferocious against a friend who blames him for yielding to women and wine, or for being lazy and neglecting to take exercise, or for indulging perpetually in baths or
unseasonable gourmandise. But for a man who is sick it is intolerable, nay, an aggravation of the sickness, to be told, See what comes of your intemperance, your soft living, your gluttony and wenching. Heavens, man, what a time to talk of that! I am writing my will, the doctors are preparing for me a dose of castor or scammony, and you admonish and lecture me! Under such conditions, then, the very circumstances in which the unfortunate find themselves leave no room for frank speaking and sententious saws, but they do require gentle usage and help. When children fall down, the nurses do not rush up to them to berate them, but they take them up, wash them, and straighten their clothes, and, after all this is done, they then rebuke and punish them. It is said that when Demetrius of Phalerum had been banished from his native land and was living in obscurity and humble station near Thebes, he was not well pleased to see Crates approaching, anticipating some cynical frankness and harsh language. But Crates met him with all gentleness, and conversed with him concerning the subject of banishment, how there was nothing bad in it, nor any good cause to feel distress, since thus he was set free from a hazardous and insecure office; at the same time he urged him not to be discouraged over himself and his present condition. Whereupon Demetrius, becoming more cheerful and once more taking heart, said to his friends, What a pity that those activities and occupations of mine have kept me from knowing a man like this!
The kindly words of friends for one in grief And admonitions when one plays the fool. [*](Nauck, Trag. Graec. Frag., Euripides, No. 962. Again cited by Plutarch, Moralia, 102 B.)
This is the way of noble friends, but the ignoble and degraded flatterers of the fortunate are like the old fractures and sprains, which, as Demosthenes [*](De corona, 198.) says, are stirred afresh whenever the body suffers some ill, and so these persons have a clinging fondness for reverses, as though they were pleased with them and derived enjoyment from them. For if a man really needs a reminder where he has come to grief through following his own ill-advised counsel, sufficient are the words:
Never did I approve the act; indeed I often Spoke against it.[*](Homer, Il. ix. 108.)

In what circumstances, then, should a friend be severe, and when should he be emphatic in using frank speech? It is when occasions demand of him that he check the headlong course of pleasure or of anger or of arrogance, or that he abate avarice or curb inconsiderate heedlessness. Such was the frankness of Solon [*](Herodotus, i. 30-32; Plutarch, Life of Solon, xx. 94 D.) towards Croesus, who was spoiled and pampered by fickle fortune, when he bade him look to the end. In such manner Socrates [*](Plato, Symposium, 215 E.) tried to keep Alcibiades in check, and drew an honest tear from his eyes by exposing his faults, and so turned his heart. Of such sort was the conduct of Cyrus [*](Xenophon, Cyropaedia, v. 5. 5 ff.) towards Cyaxares, and of Plato toward Dion at the time when the latter was at the height of his splendour and was drawing the eyes of all mankind upon himself through the beauty and magnificence of his works, when Plato exhorted him to be on his guard against arbitrary self-will and to fear it, since it is companion to solitude. [*](Plato, Letters, iv. 321 C. Again quoted by Plutarch, Life of Dion, chap. viii. (961 C); chap. liii. (981 B); and Life of Coriolanus, chap. xv. (220 D); cf. also 220 D.) Speusippus also

wrote to Dion [*](Diogenes Laertius, iv. 5, also records that Speusipus wrote letters to Dion.) not to feel proud if there was much talk of him among children and light-minded women, but to see to it that by adorning Sicily with holiness, justice, and the best of laws, he should bring name and fame to the Academy. [*](Adapted from Euripides, Phoenissae, 1742.) But, on the other hand, Euctus and Eulaeus, companions of Perseus, while his good fortune lasted always behaved so as to please him, and complied with his humour, and like all the rest they followed where he led; but when, after his disastrous encounter with the Romans [*](Under Lucius Aemilius Paullus (168 B.C.).) at Pydna, he took to flight, these men beset him with bitter reproaches, and continually reminded him of his errors and omissions, reviling him for everything he had done, until the man, smarting with grief and anger, stabbed them with his dagger and made an end of both of them.

Let thus much, then, serve to define the proper occasion in general. But the friend who is concerned for his friends must not let slip the occasions which they themselves often present, but he should turn these to account. For sometimes a question, the telling of a story, blame or commendation of like things in other people, may serve as an opening for frank speech. For example, Demaratus [*](In the Moralia, 179 C, Plutarch records the successful result of Demaratus’s frankness with Philip.) is said to have come to Macedonia during the time when Philip was at odds with his wife and son. Philip, after greeting him, inquired how well the Greeks were at harmony together; and Demaratus, who knew him well and wished him well, said, A glorious thing for you, Philip, to be inquiring about the concord of Athenians and Peloponnesians, while you let your own household be full of all this quarrelling

and dissension! Excellent, too, was the retort of Diogenes [*](The story is repeated by Plutarch, Moralia, 606 B.) on the occasion when he had entered Philip’s camp and was brought before Philip himself, at the time when Philip was on his way to fight the Greeks. Not knowing who Diogenes was, Philip asked him if he were a spy. Yes, indeed, Philip, he replied, I am here to spy upon your ill-advised folly, because of which you, without any compelling reason, are on your way to hazard a kingdom and your life on the outcome of a single hour. This perhaps was rather severe.

But another opportunity for admonition arises when people, having been reviled by others for their errors, have become submissive and downcast. The tactful man will make an adept use of this, by rebuffing and dispersing the revilers, and by taking hold of his friend in private and reminding him that, if there is no other reason for his being circumspect, he should at least try to keep his enemies from being bold. For where have these fellows a chance to open their mouths, or what can they say against you, if you put away and cast from you all that which gets you a bad name? In this way he who reviles is charged with hurting, and he who admonishes is credited with helping. But some persons manage more cleverly, and by finding fault with strangers, turn their own intimate acquaintances to repentance; for they accuse the others of what they know their own acquaintances are doing. My professor, Ammonius, at an afternoon lecture perceived that some of his students had eaten a luncheon that was anything but frugal, and so he ordered his freedman to chastise his own servant, remarking by way of explanation that that boy

can’t lunch without his wine! At the same time he glanced towards us, so that the rebuke took hold of the guilty.

One other point: we must be very careful about the use of frank speech toward a friend before a large company, bearing in mind the incident in which Plato was involved. It so happened that Socrates had handled one of his acquaintances rather severely in a conversation which took place close by the money-changers’, whereupon Plato said, Were it not better that this had been said in private? Socrates retorted, Should you not have done better if you had addressed your remark to me in private? And again, when Pythagoras once assailed a devoted pupil pretty roughly in the presence of several persons, the youth, as the story goes, hanged himself, and from that time on Pythagoras never admonished anybody when anyone else was present. For error should be treated as a foul disease, and all admonition and disclosure should be in secret, with nothing of show or display in it to attract a crowd of witnesses and spectators. For it is not like friendship, but sophistry, to seek for glory in other men’s faults, and to make a fair show before the spectators, like the physicians who perform operations in the theatres with an eye to attracting patients. Quite apart from the affront involved—which ought never to be allowed in any corrective treatment— some regard must be paid to the contentiousness and self-will that belong to vice; for it is not enough to say, as Euripides [*](In the Stheneboea; cf. Nauck, Trag. Graec. Frag., Eurip. No. 665.) has it, that

Love reproved More urgent grows,
but if admonition be offered in public, and unsparingly,
it only confirms each and every morbid emotion in its shamelessness. Hence, just as Plato [*](Laws, 729 C. Also cited or referred to by Plutarch, Moralia, 14 B, 144 F, 272 C.) insists that elderly men who are trying to cultivate a sense of respect among the young, must themselves, first of all, show respect for the young, so among friends a modest frankness best engenders modesty, and a cautious quiet approach and treatment of the erring one saps the foundations of his vice and annihilates it, since it gradually becomes imbued with consideration for the consideration shown to it. It follows, then, that the best way is to
Hold one’s head quite close, that the others may not hear it.[*](Homer, Od. i. 157.)
And least of all is it decent to expose a husband in the hearing of his wife, and a father in the sight of his children, and a lover in the presence of his beloved, or a teacher in the presence of his students: for such persons are driven almost insane with grief and anger at being taken to task before those with whom they feel it is necessary to stand well. I imagine also that it was not so much the wine that caused Cleitus [*](The story is told in detail by Plutarch, Life of Alexander, chaps. l., li. (693 C).) to be so exasperating to Alexander, as that he gave the impression of trying to curb him before a large company. And Aristomenes, Ptolemy’s [*](Ptolemy V. Epiphanes (205-181 B.C.); cf. Polybius, xv. 31.) tutor, because he gave Ptolemy a slap to wake him up, as he was nodding while an embassy was present, thereby afforded a hold to the flatterers, who affected to be indignant on the king’s behalf, and said, If with all your fatiguing duties and great lack of sleep you dropped off, we ought to admonish you in private, not to lay hands on you before so many people; and Ptolemy sent a goblet of poison with orders that
the man should drink it off. So, too, Aristophanes [*](Acharnians, 503; cf. also lines 378 ff. and the scholium on 378.) says that Cleon accused him because
With strangers present he reviles the State,
thus trying to exasperate the Athenians against him. This blunder, therefore, along with the others, must be guarded against by those who desire, not to show off, or to win popularity, but to employ frank speaking in a way that is beneficial and salutary. In feet, persons that use frank speaking ought to be able to say what Thucydides [*](i. 70.) represents the Corinthians as saying about themselves, that they have a good right to reprove others—which is not a bad way of putting it. For as Lysander,[*](Plutarch, Life of Lysander, chap. xxii. (445 D). The story is repeated in Moralia, 190 E and 229 C. A similar remark is attributed to Agesilaus in Moralia, 212 E.) we are told, said to the man from Megara, who in the council of the allies was making bold to speak for Greece, that his words needed a country to back them; so it may well be that every man’s frank speaking needs to be backed by character, but this is especially true in the case of those who admonish others and try to bring them to their sober senses. Plato [*](Cf. Plutarch, Moralia, 491 F.) at any rate used to say that he admonished Speusippus by his life, as, to be sure, the mere sight of Xenocrates in the lecture-room, and a glance from him, converted Polemon and made him a changed man. But the speech of a man light-minded and mean in character, when it undertakes to deal in frankness, results only in evoking the retort:
Wouldst thou heal others, full of sores thyself![*](From Euripides; cf. Nauck, Trag. Graec. Frag., Eurip. No. 1086; quoted also in Moralia, 88 D, 481 E, 1110 E.)

Since, however, circumstances oftentimes impel men that are none too good themselves to use admonition when in the company of others who are no better than they, the most reasonable method would be that which in some way involves and includes in the arraignment the speaker himself. This is the principle of the reproof

Son of Tydeus, what has made us forget our swift prowess? [*](Homer, Il. xi. 313; quoted with additional lines, supra, 30 E.)
and
We are no match now even for Hector Who is only one man.[*](Ibid. viii. 234.)
And in this way Socrates quietly took the young men to task, not assuming that he himself was exempted from ignorance, but feeling that he had need as well as they to study virtue and to search for truth. For those win goodwill and confidence who give the impression that, while addicted to the same faults, they are correcting their friends precisely as they correct themselves. But the man who gives himself airs in trying to curb another as though he himself were some pure and passionless being, unless he be well on in years or possessed of an acknowledged position in virtue and repute, only appears annoying and tedious, and profits nothing. Therefore it was not without a purpose that Phoenix interjected the account of his own misfortunes, his attempt in a fit of anger to slay his father, and his sudden change of heart,
Lest I be known among the Greeks as my father’s slayer[*](Ibid. ix. 461. See the note on 26 F, supra. )
This he did because he would not seem to admonish
Achilles as though he were unaffected by anger and without fault himself. For such things make a deep moral impression, and persons are more wont to yield to those who seem to have like emotions but no feeling of contempt. Since a brilliant light must not be brought near to an inflamed eye, and a troubled spirit likewise does not put up with frank speaking and plain reproof, among the most useful helps is a light admixture of praise, as in the following:
Not without honour now can you be remiss in swift prowess, You who are all the best in our host. No cause for a quarrel Have I ’gainst any man who may be remiss in the fighting, If he is craven, but with you I am wroth beyond measure,[*](Homer, Il. xiii. 116.)
and
Pandarus, where is now your bow and its winged arrows? Where your repute which no man among us can rival?[*](Ibid. v. 171.)
Lines like the following also sound a clear summons to come back when men are on the verge of giving way:
Where’s Oedipus and all those riddles famed?[*](Euripides, Phoenissae, 1688.)
and
Can much-enduring Heracles speak thus?[*](Euripides, Hercules Furens, 1250.)
For not only do they mitigate the harsh and peremptory tone of the censure, but they also arouse in a man a desire to emulate his better self, since he is made to feel ashamed of disgraceful conduct by being reminded of his honourable actions, and is prompted to look upon himself as an example of what is better. But whenever we draw comparisons with other people, as, for example, with those of a man’s own age or his fellow-citizens or his kinsmen, then the spirit of contentiousness that belongs
to vice is made sullen and savage, and it will often suggest with some temper, Then why don’t you go away to my betters, and not trouble me? One must, therefore, in frank speaking toward one set of persons be on his guard against commending another set, with the single exception, it is true, of parents. For example, Agamemnon can say:
Truly Tydeus’ son is not much like his father,[*](Homer, Il. v. 800.)
and so, too, Odysseus in the Scyrians:
Dost thou, to shame the glory of thy race, Card wool, whose father was the noblest Greek? [*](From an unknown poet; Nauck; Trag. Graec. Frag., Adesp. No. 9; quoted with variant reading, supra, 34 D.)

Least of all is it becoming to reply to admonition with admonition, and to counter frank speaking with frank speaking. For this provokes instant heat, and causes estrangement, and such altercation, as a rule, bewrays, not the man that merely rewards frankness with frankness, but the man that cannot tolerate frankness. It is better, therefore, to bear patiently with a friend who affects to offer admonition; for if later he errs himself, and requires admonition, this very fact, in a certain way, gives our frank speaking a chance to speak frankly. For if he be gently reminded, without any show of resentment, that he himself has not been wont to overlook the errors of his friends, but to take his friends to task and enlighten them, he will be much more inclined to yield and accept the correction, as being a way to requite a kindly and gracious feeling, and not fault-finding or anger.

Then again, as Thucydides [*](ii. 64.) says, Whoever incurs unpopularity over matters of the highest

importance, shows a right judgement; so it is the duty of a friend to accept the odium that comes from giving admonition when matters of importance and of great concern are at stake. But if he is for ever bickering over everything and about everything, and approaches his acquaintance in the manner not of a friend but of a schoolmaster, his admonitions will lose their edge and effectiveness in matters of the highest importance, since, like a physician who should dole out his supply of a pungent or bitter but necessary and costly medicine by prescribing it in a great number of slight cases where it is not necessary, he will have used up his supply of frankness without result. He will, therefore, be earnestly on his guard against continual censoriousness in himself; and if another person is apt to search narrowly into everything, and keeps up a continual comment of petty accusation, this will give him the key, as it were, in opening an attack on faults that are more important. The physician Philotimus, on an occasion, when a man with an ulcerated liver showed him his finger with a whitlow on it, said, My friend, you need not concern yourself about a sore finger. [*](Essentially the same story that is told supra, 43 B.) And so, too, the right occasion gives a friend a chance to say to the man whose accusations are based on trifles of no real import, Why dwell on playful sports and conviviality and nonsense? Let this man, my friend, but get rid of the woman he keeps, or cease gambling, and there we have a man in all else admirable. For the man who receives indulgence in small matters is not unready to grant to his friend the right to speak frankly in regard to the greater. But the inveterate nagger, everywhere sour and unpleasant, noticing
everything and officiously making it his concern, is not only intolerable to children and brothers, but is unendurable even to slaves.

But since, to quote Euripides,[*](Phoenissae, 528.) not everything connected with old age is bad, and the same thing holds true also of our friends’ fatuity, we ought to keep close watch upon our friends not only when they go wrong but also when they are right, and indeed the first step should be commendation cheerfully bestowed. Then later, just as steel is made compact by cooling, and takes on a temper as the result of having first been relaxed and softened by heat, so when our friends have become mollified and warmed by our commendations we should give them an application of frankness like a tempering bath. For the right occasion gives us a chance to say, Is this conduct worthy to compare with that? Do you see what fruits honour yields? This is what we your friends demand; this befits your own character; nature intended you for this. But those other promptings must be exorcised—

Off to the mountain or else to the surge of the loud-roaring ocean.[*](Homer, Il. vi. 347.)
For as a kind-hearted physician would prefer to relieve a sick man’s ailment by sleep and diet rather than by castor and scammony, so a kindly friend, a good father, and a teacher, take pleasure in using commendation rather than blame for the correction of character. For nothing else makes the frank person give so little pain and do so much good by his words, as to refrain from all show of temper, and to approach the erring good-humouredly and with kindliness. For this reason they should not be sharply refuted when they make denial, nor prevented from
defending themselves; but we should in some way or other help them to evolve some presentable excuses, and, repudiating the worse motive, provide one more tolerable ourselves, such as is found in Hector’s [*](Homer, Il. vi. 326.) words to his brother:
Strange man! ’Tis not right to nurse this wrath in your bosom,
as though his withdrawal from the combat were not desertion, or cowardice, but only a display of temper. And so Nestor [*](Ibid. ix. 109.) to Agamemnon:
But you to your high-minded spirit Gave way.
For a higher moral tone, I think, is assumed in saying You acted unbecomingly rather than You did wrong, and You were inadvertent rather than You were ignorant, and Don’t be contentious with your brother rather than Don’t be jealous of your brother, and Keep away from the woman who is trying to ruin you rather than Stop trying to ruin the woman. Such is the method which frankness seeks to take when it would reclaim a wrongdoer; but to stir a man to action it tries the opposite method. For example, whenever it either becomes necessary to divert persons that are on the point of going wrong, or when we would give an earnest impulse to those who are trying to make a stand against the onset of a violent adverse impulse, or who are quite without energy and spirit for what is noble, we should turn round and ascribe their action to some unnatural or unbecoming motives. Thus Odysseus, as Sophocles [*](In the Dinner-guests probably; Nauck, Trag. Graec. Frag., Soph. No. 141. See, however, Jebb-Pearson, The Fragments of Sophocles, ii. p. 205.) represents him, in trying to rouse the spirit of Achilles, says that Achilles is not angry on account of the dinner, but
Already at the sight of builded Troy You are afraid.
And again when Achilles is exceedingly indignant at this, and says that he is for sailing away, Odysseus says
I know what ’tis you flee; not ill repute, But Hector’s near; it is not good to stay.[*](In the Dinner-guests probably. See note C, p. 390.)
So by alarming the spirited and manly man with an imputation of cowardice, the chaste and orderly with an imputation of licentiousness, the liberal and lordly with an imputation of pettiness and stinginess, they give to such persons an impulse toward what is noble, and turn them away from what is disgraceful, proving themselves moderate in matters beyond remedy, and owning more to sorrow and sympathy than to blame in their frank speaking; but in efforts to prevent the commission of error and in any wrestling with the emotions they are severe, inexorable, and unremitting. For this is the right time for a resolute goodwill and genuine frankness. Blame for past deeds is a weapon which we see enemies using against each other. Whereby is confirmed the saying of Diogenes that as a matter of self-preservation, a man needs to be supplied with good friends or else with ardent enemies; for the former instruct him, and the latter take him to task. But it is better to guard against errors by following proffered advice than to repent of errors because of men’s upbraiding. This is the reason why it is necessary to treat frankness as a fine art, inasmuch as it is the greatest and most potent medicine in friendship, always needing, however, all care to hit the right occasion, and a tempering with moderation.

Since, then, as has been said, frankness, from its very nature, is oftentimes painful to the person to whom it is applied, there is need to follow the example of the physicians; for they, in a surgical operation, do not leave the part that has been operated upon in its suffering and pain, but treat it with soothing lotions and fomentations; nor do persons that use admonition with skill simply apply its bitterness and sting, and then run away; but by further converse and gentle words they mollify and assuage, even as stone-cutters smooth and polish the portions of statues that have been previously hammered and chiselled. But the man who has been hard hit and scored by frankness, if he be left rough and tumid and uneven, will, owing to the effect of anger, not readily respond to an appeal the next time, or put up with attempts to soothe him. Therefore those who employ admonition should be particularly on their guard in this respect, and not take their leave too soon, nor allow anything painful and irritating to their acquaintances to form the final topic of conversation at an interview.