Plutarch's Morals
on settling the terms of peace, begged that he would lay upon them what
burdens he pleased, provided he enjoined nothing dishonourable, so the
friend, if any necessity arise involving expense or danger or trouble,
is the first to desire to be applied to and share in it with alacrity
and without crying off, but if there be anything disgraceful in
connection with it he begs to have nothing to do with it. The flatterer
on the contrary cries off from toilsome and dangerous employments, and
if you put him to the test by ringing him,[439] he returns a hollow and
spurious sound, and finds some excuse; whereas use him in disgraceful
and low and disreputable service, and trample upon him, he will think no
treatment too bad or ignominious. Have you observed the ape? He cannot
guard the house like the dog, nor bear burdens like the horse, nor
plough like the ox, so he has to bear insult and ribaldry, and put up
with being made sport of, exhibiting himself as an instrument to produce
laughter. So too the flatterer, who can neither advocate your cause, nor
give you useful counsel, nor share in your contention with anybody, but
shirks all labour and toil, never makes any excuses in underhand
transactions, is sure to lend a helping hand in any love affair, is
energetic in setting free some harlot, and not careless in clearing off
the account of a drinking score, nor remiss in making preparations for
banquets, and obsequious to concubines, but if ordered to be uncivil to
your relations, or to help in turning your wife out of doors, he is
relentless and not to be put out of countenance. So that he is not hard
to detect here too. For if ordered to do anything you please
disreputable or dishonourable, he is ready to take any pains to oblige
you.
Sec. XXIV. One might detect again how greatly the flatterer differs from
the friend by his behaviour to other friends. For the friend is best
pleased with loving and being beloved by many, and also always tries to
contrive for his friend that he too may be much loved and honoured, for
he believes in the proverb "the goods of friends are common
property,"[440] and thinks it ought to apply to nothing more than to
friends; but the false and spurious and counterfeit friend, knowing how
much he debases friendship, like debased and spurious coin, is not only
by nature envious, but shows his envy even of those who are like
himself, striving to outdo them in scurrility and gossip, while he
quakes and trembles at any of his betters, not by Zeus "merely walking
on foot by their Lydian chariot," but, to use the language of Simonides,
"not even, having pure lead by comparison with their refined
gold."[441] Whenever then, being light and counterfeit and false, he is
put to the test at close quarters with a true and solid and cast-iron
friendship, he cannot stand the test but is detected at once, and
imitates the conduct of the painter that painted some wretched cocks,
for he ordered his lad to scare away all live cocks as far from his
picture as possible. So he too scares away real friends and will not let
them come near if he can help it, but if he cannot prevent that, he
openly fawns upon them, and courts them, and admires them as his
betters, but privately runs them down and spreads calumnies about them.
And when secret detraction has produced a sore feeling,[442] if he has
not effected his end completely, he remembers and observes the teaching
of Medius, who was the chief of Alexander's flatterers, and a leading
sophist in conspiracy against the best men. He bade people confidently
sow their calumny broadcast and bite with it, teaching them that even if
the person injured should heal his sore, the scar of the calumny would
remain. Consumed by these scars, or rather gangrenes and cancers,
Alexander put to death Callisthenes, and Parmenio, and Philotas; while
he himself submitted to be completely outwitted by such as Agnon, and
Bagoas, and Agesias, and Demetrius, who worshipped him and tricked him
up and feigned him to be a barbaric god. So great is the power of
flattery, and nowhere greater, as it seems, than among the greatest
people. For their thinking and wishing the best about themselves makes
them credit the flatterer, and gives him courage.[443] For lofty heights
are difficult of approach and hard to reach for those who endeavour to
scale them, but the highmindedness and conceit of a person thrown off
his balance by good fortune or good natural parts is easily reached by
mean and petty people.
Sec. XXV. And so we advised at the beginning of this discourse, and now
advise again, to cut off self-love and too high an opinion of ourselves;
for that flatters us first, and makes us more impressionable and
prepared for external flatterers. But if we hearken to the god, and
recognize the immense importance to everyone of that saying, "Know
thyself,"[444] and at the same time carefully observe our nature and
education and training, with its thousand shortcomings in respect to
good, and the large proportion of vice and vanity mixed up with our
words and deeds and feelings, we shall not make ourselves so easy a mark
for flatterers. Alexander said that he disbelieved those who called him
a god chiefly in regard to sleep and the sexual delight, for in both
those things he was more ignoble and emotional than in other
respects.[445] So we, if we observe the blots, blemishes, shortcomings,
and imperfections of our private selves, shall perceive clearly that we
do not need a friend who shall bestow upon us praise and panegyric, but
one that will reprove us, and speak plainly to us, aye, by Zeus, and
censure us if we have done amiss. For it is only a few out of many that
venture to speak plainly to their friends rather than gratify them, and
even among those few you will not easily find any who know how to do so
properly, for they think they are outspoken when they abuse and scold.
And yet, just as in the case of any other medicine, to employ freedom of
speech unseasonably is only to give needless pain and trouble, and in a
manner to do so as to produce vexation the very thing the flatterer does
so as to produce pleasure. For it does people harm not only to praise
them unseasonably but also to blame them unseasonably, and especially
exposes them to the successful attack of flatterers, for, like water,
they abandon the rugged hills for the soft grassy valleys. And so
outspokenness ought to be tempered with kindness, and reason ought to be
called in to correct its excessive tartness, (as we tone down the too
powerful glare of a lamp), that people may not, by being troubled and
grieved at continual blame and rebuke, fly for refuge to the shade of
the flatterer, and turn aside to him to free themselves from annoyance.
For we ought, Philopappus, to banish all vice by virtue, not by the
opposite vice, as some hold,[446] by exchanging modesty for impudence,
and countrified ways for town ribaldry, and by removing their character
as far as possible from cowardice and effeminacy, even if that should
make people get very near to audacity and foolhardiness. And some even
make superstition a plea for atheism, and stupidity a plea for knavery,
perverting their nature, like a stick bent double, from inability to set
it straight. But the basest disowning of flattery is to be disagreeable
without any purpose in view, and it shows an altogether inelegant and
clumsy unfitness for social intercourse to shun by unpleasing moroseness
the suspicion of being mean and servile in friendship; like the freedman
in the comedy who thought railing only enjoying freedom of speech.
Seeing then, that it is equally disgraceful to become a flatterer
through trying only to please, as in avoiding flattery to destroy all
friendship and intimacy by excessive freedom of speech, we must avoid
both these extremes, and, as in any other case, make our freedom of
speech agreeable by its moderation. So the subject itself seems next to
demand that I should conclude it by discussing that point.
Sec. XXVI. As then we see that much trouble arises from excessive freedom
of speech, let us first of all detach from it any element of self-love,
being carefully on our guard that we may not appear to upbraid on
account of any private hurt or injury. For people do not regard a speech
on the speaker's own behalf as arising from goodwill, but from anger,
and reproach rather than admonition. For freedom in speech is friendly
and has weight, but reproach is selfish and little. And so people
respect and admire those that speak their mind freely, but accuse back
and despise those that reproach them: as Agamemnon would not stand the
moderate freedom of speech of Achilles, but submitted to and endured
the bitter attack and speech of Odysseus,
"Pernicious chief, would that thou didst command
Some sorry host, and not such men as these!"[447]
for he was restrained by the carefulness and sobriety of his speech, and
also Odysseus had no private motive of anger but only spoke out on
behalf of Greece,[448] whereas Achilles seemed rather vexed on his own
account. And Achilles himself, though not sweet-tempered or mild of
mood, but "a terrible man, and one that would perchance blame an
innocent person,"[449] yet silently listened to Patroclus bringing
against him many such charges as the following,
"Pitiless one, thy sire never was
Knight Peleus, nor thy mother gentle Thetis,
But the blue sea and steep and rocky crags
Thy parents were, so flinty is thy heart."[450]
For as Hyperides the orator bade the Athenians consider not only whether
he spoke bitterly, but whether he spoke so from interested motives,[451]
so the rebuke of a friend void of all private feeling is solemn and
grave and what one dare not lightly face. And if anyone shows plainly in
his freedom of speech, that he altogether passes over and dismisses any
offences his friend has done to himself, and only blames him for other
shortcomings, and does not spare him but gives him pain for the
interests of others, the tone of his outspokenness is invincible, and
the sweetness of his manner even intensifies the bitterness and
austerity of his rebuke. And so it has well been said, that in anger and
differences with our friends we ought more especially to act with a view
to their interest or honour. And no less friendly is it, when it appears
that we have been passed over and neglected, to boldly put in a word for
others that are neglected too, and to remind people of them, as Plato,
when he was out of favour with Dionysius, begged for an audience, and
Dionysius granted it, thinking that Plato had some personal grievance
and was going to enter into it, but Plato opened the conversation as
follows, "If, Dionysius, you knew that some enemy had sailed to Sicily
with a view to do you some harm, but found no opportunity, would you
allow him to sail back again, and go off scot-free?" "Certainly not,
Plato," replied Dionysius, "for we must not only hate and punish the
deeds of our enemies, but also their intentions." "If then," said Plato,
"anyone has come here for your benefit, and wishes to do you good, and
you do not find him an opportunity, is it right to let him go away with
neglect and without thanks?" And on Dionysius asking, who he meant, he
replied, "I mean AEschines, a man of as good a character as any of
Socrates' pupils whatever, and able to improve by his conversation any
with whom he might associate: and he is neglected, though he has made a
long voyage here to discuss philosophy with you." This speech so
affected Dionysius, that he at once threw his arms round Plato and
embraced him, admiring his benevolence and loftiness of mind, and
treated AEschines well and handsomely.
Sec. XXVII. In the next place, let us clear away as it were and remove all