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.