It is really a terrible thing, is ignorance, a cause of many woes to humanity; for it envelops things in a fog, so to speak, and obscures the truth and overshadows each man’s life. Truly, we all resemble people lost in the dark—nay, we are even like blind men. Now we stumble inexcusably, now we lift our feet when there is no need of it; and we do not see what is near and right before us, but fear what is far away and extremely remote as if it blocked our path. In short, in everything we do we are always making plenty of missteps. For this redson the writers of tragedy have found in this universal truth many and many a motive for their dramas—take for example, the house of Labdacus, King of Thebes, father of Laius. the house of Pelops and their like. Indeed, most of the troubles that.are put on the stage are supplied to the poets, you will find, by ignorance, as though it were a sort of tragic divinity. What I have in mind more than anything else is slanderous lying about acquaintances and friends, through which families have been rooted out, cities have utterly perished, fathers have been driven mad against their children, brothers against own brothers, children against their parents and lovers against those they love. Many a friendship, too, has. been parted and many an oath broken through belief in slander.

In order, then, that we may as far as possible avoid being involved in it, I wish to show in words, as if in a painting, what sort of thing slander is, how it begins and what it does.

I should say, however, that Apelles of Ephesus long ago preempted this subject for a picture ; and with good reason, for he himself had been slandered to Ptolemy on the ground that he had taken part with Theodotas in the conspiracy in Tyre, although Apelles had never set eyes on Tyre and did not know who Theodotas was, beyond having heard that he was one of Ptolemy’s governors, in charge of affairs in Phoenicia. The story is apocryphal, as Apelles must have been in his grave nearly a hundred years when Theodotus (not Theodotas) betrayed Ptolemy Philopator (219 3.c.). Nevertheless, one of his rivals named Antiphilus, through envy of his favour at court and professional jealousy, maligned him by telling Ptolemy that he had taken part in the whole enterprise, and that someone had seen him dining with Theodotas in Phoenicia and whispering into his ear all through the meal; and in the end he declared that the revolt of Tyre and the capture of Pelusium had taken place on the advice of Apelles.

Ptolemy, who in general was not particularly sound of judgment, but had been brought up in the midst of courtly flattery, was so inflamed and upset by this surprising charge that he did not take into account any of the probabilities, not considering either that the accuser was a rival or that a painter was too insignificant a person for so great a piece of treason— a painter, too, who had been well treated by him and honoured above any of his fellow-craftsmen. Indeed, he did not even enquire whether Apelles had gone to Tyre at all. On the contrary, he at once began to rave and filled the palace with noise, shouting “The ingrate,” “The plotter,’ and “The conspirator.”’ And if one of his fellow-prisoners, who was indignant at the impudence of-Antiphilus and felt sorry for poor Apelles, had not said that the man had not taken any part whatever in the affair, he would have had his head cut off, and so would have shared the consequences of the troubles in Tyre without being himself to blame for them in any way.