Book XIII

and whom Mentor had advised him to send in this expedition. " It is neccirary, said he, to increase the number of your people during peace; but, to prevent a national infenfibility to military honour, and ignorance of military art, it is proper to send the young nobility into foreign service: this, by connecting the idea of a soldier's charader, with that of noble descent and elevated rank, will be sufficient to kindle and keep alive a national sense of glory, a love of arms, a patience of fatigue, a contempt of death, and even an experimental knowledge of the art of war."

The confederate princes departed from Salentum, well content with Idomeneus, and charmed with the wisdom of Mentor. They were also highly plcafed to be accompanied by Telemachus: but Telemachus was overwhelmed with grief, when he came to part with his friend. While the kings were taking their leave of Idomeneus, and vowing to prefervc their alliance inviolable for ever, Mentor held Telemachus to his breast in a tranfport of silent tenderness, and found himself wet with his tears: " I have no joy, said Telemachus, in the search of glory; I feel no paflion but grief, at our separation;^ and think that the fatal time is returned, when the Egyptians forced me, from your arms, to a distant country, without hope of seeing you again." Mentor foothed him with words of gentlenefs and comfort: " This separation,, said he, is very different from that in Egypt; it is voluntary, it will be short, and it will be rewarded with glory. You must love me, my son, with less tenderness, and more fortitude; you mull accuftom yourfclf to my absence; for the time is coming, when we mufl part for ever! and you should learn what is right, rather from the inspiration of wisdom and virtue, than from the presence of Mentor."

The

The Goddefs, who was concealed under the figure of Mentor, then covered Telemachus with her ^gis, and difFufed within him the spirit of wisdom and foresight, of intrepid courage and gentle moderation, virtues which fo rarely meet: " Go, said she, whereever you are called by duty, T»rithout considering whether it be •dangerous or safe: a prince may avoid danger, with less difgrace, by declining a war, than by keeping aloof in battle. The courage ©f him who commands others, IhouKI never be doubtful: if it is defnable that a nation should preserve its prince, it is still more dcfuable that the prince should preserve his honour. Remember, that the commander of others, should also be their example, and excite the courage of his army by a difplay of his own. Fear no -danger, then, O Telemachus! but rather perish in the combat, than bring your valour into question. The fycophanrs, who would appear most forward in perfuading you not to expose yourself to danger, when danger is become neceflary; would be the firfl to whifper that you wanted courage, if you should take their advice. Do not, however, incur danger unnecefTarily: courage is a virtu:, only in proportion as it is direcSled by prudence; without prudence, it is a fenfelefs contempt of life, a mere brutal ardour. Precipitate courage fecures no advantage: he, who, in danger, does not possess the perfecl recolle(5tion of his mind, is rather furious than brave; and is superior to fear, only as he is incapable of thought: in proportion as he is free from perturbation, he is timid; and if he does not fly, is in confusion: his mind is not at liberty to dispense proper orders; nor to seize and improve the tranfient but important opportunities, which arise, in battle, of diilrefling the enemy, and doing service to his country. If he has the ardour of a soldier, he has not the discernment of a commander: neither has he that courage, w^hich is requisite even in the private man; for the private man ought to preserve, in the heat of action, such presence presence of mind, as is necelTary to nnderfland and obey the orders of his officer. He that expofes himself raflily, interrupts the order and difcipHne of the troops, gives an example of pernicious temerity, and frequently expofes the whole army to irretrievable difadvantages. Those, who prefer the gratification of their own idle ambition, to the security of a common cause, defcrve rather punishment than reward.

*' Be careful, my dear son, to avoid precipitation even in the pursuit of glory; for glory is to be acquired, only by waiting in patient tranquillity for the moment of advantage. Virtue is more revered, in proportion as she appears to be quiet, placid, and unaffuming. As the necessity of expofing yourself to danger increases, fo should your expedients, your foresight, and your courage. Remember also to avoid whatever may draw upon you the envy of your aflbciateS} and never let the success of another excite envy in you: give praise liberally, to whatever shall merit praise; yet never commend a mixed character indifcriminately; difplay the good with pleafurc, hide the bad, and let it not be remembered but with compassion. Never decide in the presence of old commanders, who have all the experience that you want: hear their opinions with deference, consult them, folicit the assistance of the most fkilful, and never be ashamed to attribute your befl anions to their counfcl.

** Lallly, never listen to any discourse, which tends to make you jealous or midruHful of other chiefs. Speak your mind to them with confidence and ingenuity. If you think their behaviour to you has been exceptionable, open your heart to them at once, and tell them why you think fo: if they are capable of feeling the noble generosity

^enerofity of this condud, they will be delighted with it; and you will find no difficulty, in obtaining from them all the conceffions that you can reafonably expedl. If their infenfibility is fo gross, that the reditude of this behaviour is lost upon them; you will, at least, have gained an experimental knowledge of what may be cxpeded from them; you will order matters fo, that you may have no more conteft with theni during the war; and you will have nothing to reproach yourself with, on their account. But, above all, be careful never to drop the least hint of your displeasure, before the fycophants who are ever bufy to fow jealousy and division. I will remain here, continued Mentor, to assist Idomeneus in taking those measures, which are indifpenfibly neceftary for the good of his people; and for compleating the corrcdlion of those faults, which evil counfellors and flatterers have feduced him to commit, in the establishment of his new kingdom."

At this flight censure of Idomeneus, Telemaciius could not help cxprefling some furprize at his coridud, not without some mixture of contempt. But Mentor checked him in a tone of severity: " Do you wonder, said he, that the most eftimable of men, are m.en still-, and, among the innumerable fnares and perplexities which are infeparable from royalty, discover some traces of human infirmity f In Idomeneus,. the ideas of pomp and magnificence have been planted and nurtured from his youth; and where is the philosopher, who, in his place, would always have been superior to flattery? He has, indeed, suffered himself to be too much influenced, by those in whom he confided; but the wifeft kings, whatever is their precaution, are often deceived. A king cannot do every thing himself; he must, therefore, have ministers, and in these ministers he must confide: besides, a king cannot know those that furround him, fo well as they are known by others; for,

B O O K Xn. ,217 in his prcfencc, they never appear without a mafic; n.nd every artifice that cunning can devife, is pracftifcd to deceive him. Alas! iHy dear Telemachus, yout- own experience will confirm this truth but. too Well. We never find either the virtues or abilities in mankind, that we seek; and with whatever diligence and penetratioh «we (ludy their chara6ters, we are every day mistaken in our conclusions. We can never avail the public of all the virtues and abilities that we find; for the best men have their prejudices, their avei*fions, and theirjealoufies; they will seldom give up any opinion, however Angular, or renounce any foible, however pernicious. The greater the dominion, the more numerous must be the ministry; for there will be more that the prince cannot do himself, and therefore more that he must do by others: and the greater the number of those to whom he must delegate his authority, the more liable he is to be fomewhere mistaken in his choice. He who is a severe cenfor of kings to-day, would to-morrow govern much worse than those whom he condemns j and if he was intruftcd with the fame power, would commit the fame faults, and many others much greater. A private station, if a man has some degree of natural eloquence, conceals defects, difplays Ihining talents to advantage, and makes him appear worthy of all the posts that he does not fill: but authority brings a man's abilities to a severe test, and difcovers great faults, which the fhades of obscurity concealed. Greatness refemblcs those glaffes, which reprcfent every objed: larger than it is: every defed: seems to expand in an elevated situation; where things, in themselves small, are, in their consequences, great, and the slightest faults excite vehement opposition. A prince is an individual, whose condudt the whole world is perpetually employed to watch, and difpofcd to condemn. He is judged with the utmost rigour by those, who can only guefs at his situation; who have not the least fcnfe of the difficulties that attend it; and who exped, that, to anfwcr their ideas of perfedion, he should be f f no no longer a man. A king, however, can be no more: his goodness and his wifdora. are hounded by his nature; he has humours, paflions, and habits, which it is impossible he should always furmount; he is continually befet by self-interefl and cunning; he never finds the affiflance that he seeks; he is perpetually led into miftakes, fomctimes by his own paflions, and fometimesby those of his minillers; and can fcarce repair one fault, before he falls into another. Such is the situation, even of those kings, who have moH wisdom, and moll virtue; and the longefl and bell reign is too short, and too defective, to correct, at the end, what has undefignedly been done amifs in the beginning. Such evils are infeparable from royalty; and human weakness mull fmk under such a load; Kings lliould be pitied and excused: should not they be pitied, who are called to the government of an innumerable multitude, whose wants are infinite, and who cannot but keep every faculty of those who would govern them well, upon the llretch? Or, to speak freely, are not men to be pitied, for their necefi"aryfubje(n:ioa to a mortal like themselves? A God only can fulfil the duties of dominion. The prince, however, is not less to be pitied than the people; a weak and imperfe(5l. creature, the governor of a corrupt and deceitful multitude!'.'

"But, said Telemachus with some vivacity,' Idonicneus has already lost Crete, the kingdom of his anceftors, by his indifcre* tion; and he would have lost Salentum, which, he is founding in its stead, if it had not been prefcrvcd by your wisdom."

" I confess, replied Mentor, that Idomeneus has been guilty of great faults: but, look through Greece, and every other country upon earth, and see, whether among those that are most improved, you can find one prince, that is not, in many instances, inexcufable. The greatest men have, in their natural disposition, and the conftl-

, mcional arp tutional cbai'a(R;er of their minds, dcfc(5ls which sometimes miflead them; and the befl men are those, who have fortitude to acknovrledge these defetfls, and make conscience of repairing the mifchicfs that they produce. Do you imagine, that Ulysses, the great Ulysses your father, who is considered as an example by all the fovereigns of Greece, is without weakness and imperfeftion? If he had not been favoured with the perpetual guidance and prote<5tion of Minerva, how often would he have funk under the dangers and difficulties, to which the wanton malignity of fortune has exposed him f How often has the Goddefs restrained and corredled him, that he might walk on, in the path of virtue, till he arrived at glory! And when you shall see him reign, in all the splendor of his excellence, in Ithaca, do not expecft to find him perfe<5t. He has been the admiration of Greece, of Asia, and of all the islands of the sea, notwithstanding his failings, which, among the lliining wonders of his character, are forgotten. If you, also, can thus admire him; and, by a happy emulation of his wisdom and his virtue, tranfplant them into your own bosom; you will need no other happincfs or honour.

" Accuftom yourself, not to expeft, from the greatell men, more than human nature can effedt: it is common, for the inexperience and presumption of youth, to indulge a severity of judgment, which leads them to condemn the chara6ters that they ought to imitate and produces an hopelefs indocility. You ought, not only to love, refpeiSl, and imitate your father, notwithstanding his imperfections; but you ought also very highly to esteem Idomeneus, notwithstanding such parts of his character and conducSt as I have fhewn to deserve censure. He is naturally ftncere, upright, equitable, kind, and munificent; his courage is perfect; and he fpon*taneoufly detefts fraud, the moment he perceives it: all his external ^qualifications arc great, and fuitablc to his rank: his ingenuous

F f a difjpofition

S20 disposition to acknowledge his errors, his mild and patient endurance of my severe reprehenlion, his fortitude against himself to make public reparations for his faults, and thus to place himself above the censure of others; are indubitable teftimonies, that he has true greatness of mind. There are some faults, from which a TOian of little merit may be preserved, by good fortune, or by good; counsel; but it is only by an eifort of the moil exalted virtue, that a king, who has been fo long feduced by flattery, can corrcdl his faults: it is m.ore glorious thus to rise, than never to have fallen. The faults of Idomeneus are such, as almost all kings have committed; but his reparation is such, as has been made by none. As for myself, while I reproved, I admired him; for he permitted my reproof: and do you admire him also, my dear Telemachus! it is; less for his reputation, than your advantage, that I give you thi& counsel."

By this discourse, Mjentor made Telemachus fenfibk, that he,, who judges with severity of others, endangers his own virtue;efpccially, if they are diftrelTed by the perplexities and difficultiesof government. " But it is now, said he, time to part. Farewell 1 will wait here, my dear Telemachus, for your return. Remember, that tbofe who fear the Godsj have nothing to fear from men! ". You will be expofcd to extream danger; but remember, that you-; will never be forsaken by Minerva!'

At this moment, TELEAfACHus became conscious ta the presence ' of the Goddefs; and he wcmld have known that it was the very voice of MiNt^RVA that l:uid inspired him with fortitude, if she hade not immediately recalled the image of Mentor to his mind, by addressing him in the character llie had assumed: " Remember,, said she, my son, the care which I took, during your infancy, to render you as wife and as brave as your father! do nothing thatis unworthy of his example, or of my precepts:.."

The

The sun had already risen, and tinged the fummits of the mountains with gold, when the confederate kings departed from Salentum, and returned to their people. The troops that had been encamped round the city, now began to march under their leaders; their pikes rose like a forell on every fide; their shields glittered in the sun; and a cloud of dust ascended to the sky. The kings were conducfted to the plain by Idomeneus and Mentor, who attended them to a considerable distance fixjm the city. At last they parted, having given and received reciprocal tellimonies of lincere friendship. And the allies being now acquainted with the ' true chara6ler of Idomeneus, which had suffered fo much by mifrcprefentation, had no doubt, but that the peace would be lading: they had, indeed, formed their judgment of him, not from his natural fcntiments, but from the pernicious counsel of flattererSj which he had implicitly taken.

When the army was' gone, Idomeneus led Mentor into every' quarter of the city. " Let us see, said Mentor, how many people you have, as well in the city as the country; let us number the whole; and let us also examine, how many of them are hufbandmen. Let us enquire, how much corn, wine, oil, and other neceffaries, your lands will produce one year with another: we shall then know, whether your country will fubfift its inhabitants, and whether it will yield a furplus for foreign trade. Let us also see how many velTels you have, and how many failors to man them, that we may be able to judge of your strength." He then visited the port, and went on board every vefTel; he informed himself of the several ports to which they traded, what merchandize they caiTied out, and what they brought back in return; what was the expence of the voyage; what were the loans of the merchants to each other, and what trading societies were established among them, that he might know whether their articles were equitable, andand faithfully obfcrved. He also cnqiiired, what was the risk of the several voyages, and to what lofTes the trade was exposed, that such reftri6lions might be made as would prevent the ruin of the merchants, who sometimes, from too eager a desire of gain, undertake what they are not in a condition to accomplilli.

He ordered that bankruptcy should be punished with great severity, because it is generally the effedt of raflmefs and indifcretion, if not of fraud: he also formed regulations, by which bankruptcies might cafily be prevented: he obliged the merchants to give an account of their elFecSts, their profits, their expences, and their undertakings, to magiflrates eitabliflied for that purpose: he ordered, that they should never be permitted to risk the property of another, nor more than half their own; that they should undertake by association, what they could not undertake fmgly; and that the observance of the conditions of such association, should be inforced by severe penalties. He ordered also, that trade should be perfedlly open and free; and, inflead of loading it with imports, that every merchant, who brought the trade of a new nation to the port of Salcntum, should be intitlcd to a reward.

These regulations brought people in crowds from all parts, and the trade of Salentum was like the flux and reflux of the sea; riches flowed in upon it, with an impetuous abundance, like wave impelling wave; every thing was freely brought in and carried out of the port; every thing that was brought was useful, and every thing that was carried out, left something of greater advantage in its stead. Justice presided over the port, which was the center of innumerable nations, with inflexible severity j and from the lofty towers, that were at once its ornament and defence, freedom, inte- .grity, and honour, feenied to call together the merchants of the:4:emotefl regions of the earth: and these merchants, whether they tcame came from the shores of the East, where the sun rises from the parting wave to begin the day; or from that boundless ocean, where, wearied with his course, he extinguiflies his fires; all lived together in Salentum, as in their native country, with security and peace.

Mentor then visited the magazines, warehoufes, and manufactories, of the interior part of the city. He prohibited the sale of all foreign commodities, that might introduce luxury or efFemi'nacy: he regulated the dress, and the provisions, of the inhabitants of every rank; and the furniture, the size, and ornaments of their houses. He also prohibited all ornaments of silver and gold: " I know but one thing, said he to Idomeneus, that can render your people modest in their expences, the example of their prince: it is neceflary, that there should be a certain dignity in your appearance; but your authority will be sufficiently marked by the guards, and the great officers of your court, that will always attend you. As to your dress, be content with the fined cloth of a purple colour: let the dress of your principal officers, be of cloth equally fine; and let your own be distinguished, only by the colour, and a flight embroidery of gold round the edge: different colours will serve to distinguish different conditions, without either gold, or silver, or jewels; and^ let these conditions be regulated by birth, .

" Put the most ancient and illuflrious nobility in the first rank-: thofc, who are diftinguilhed by personal merit, and the authority of office, will be content to fland second to those, who have been long in pofleffion of hereditary honour. Men, who are not -noble by descent, will readily yield precedence to those that are, if you take care not to encourage a false opinion of themselves, by raising. them too suddenly and too high; and never fail to gratify those with i with praise, who are modest m profpcrity. No diftiinftion fo litde excites envy, as that which is derived from anceftors by a long descent.

" To ftimulate virtue, and excite an emulation to serve the flate, it will be sufficient to reward public merit with honorary diftinctions, a crown or a statue, which may be made the foundation of a new nobility, for the children of those to whom they are decreed.

" The habit of persons of the first rank, may be white, bordered with a fringe of gold: they may also be diilinguiflied by a gold ring on their finger, and a medal of gold imprelled with your image hanging from their neck. Those of.the second rank, may be drefled in blue, with a silver fringe, and be diilinguiflied by •the ring without the medal. The third rank may be drefled in green, and wear the medal without either fringe or ring. The. colour of the fourth class, may be a full yellow; the fifth, a pale red; the sixth, a mixture of red and white j and the seventh, a mixture of white and yellow. Dreflfes of these different colours, will sufficiently distinguish the freemen of your Hate, into seven clafles. The habit of slaves should be dark grey: and thus, each will be diilinguiflied according to his condition, without expence; and every art which can only gratify pride, will be banished from Salentum. All the artificers, which are now employed fo much to the difadvantage of their country, will betake themselves to such arts as are useful, which are few; or to commerce, or agriculture. No change mull ever be suffered to take place, either in the quality of the Huff", or the form of the garment: men are, by nature, formed for serious and important employments; and it is unworthy of them, to invent affe(5ted novelties in the cloaths that cOver them, or to suffer the women, whom such employment would less dif-

3 ' grace, grace, to fall into an extravagance fo contemptible and pernicious."

Thus Mentor, like a fkilful gardener, who lops from his fruit trees the useless wood, endeavoured to retrench the parade that infenfibly corrupts the manners, and to reduce every thing to a frugal and noble simplicity. He regulated even the provisions, not of the Haves only, but those of the highest rank: " What a Ihame is it, said he, that men of exalted stations, should place their fuperiority in eating such food, as effeminates the mind, and fubverts the conllitution! they ought to value themselves for the regulation of their own desires, for their power of difpenfmg good to others, and for the reputation which the exercise of private and public virtue will neceflarily procure. To the fober and temperate, the fimplefl food is always pleasant; and the fmipleft food only, can produce the moll vigorous health, and give at once capacity and disposition for the purest and the highcfl enjoyments. Your meal should confill of the bed food; but it should always be plainly drcfled: the art of cookery, is the art of poifoning mankind, by rendering appetite flill importunate, when the wants of nature are fupplicd."

Idomeneus easily conceived that he had done wrong, in fuflering the inhabitants of this new city, to corrupt and efleminate their manners, by violating the fumptuary laws of Minos; but Mentor further convinced him, that the revival of those laws would produce little effedt, if the king did not give them force by his example: he, therefore, immediately regulated his own table, where he admitted only plain food, such as he had eaten with other Grecian princes at the siege of Troy, with the finest bread, and a small quantity of the wine of the country, which was generous and well

G g flavoured.

1/ flavoured. No man dared to murmur at a regulation, which the king impofcd upon himself j and the profufion and false delicacy of the table, were given up without a struggle.

Mentor fupprefled also two kinds of music; the foft and effeminate llrains, which diflblve the foul into languifliment and desire; and the Bacchanalian airs, that tranfport it with caufelefs, tumultuous, and opprobrious joy: he allowed only that sacred and solemn harmony, which, in the temples of the Gods, kindles devotion, and celebrates heroic virtue. To the temples also, he confined the fuperb ornaments of architedlurc, columns, pediments, and porticos: he gave models, in a simple but elegant llile of building, for houses, that would contain a numerous family, on a moderate extent of ground; fo designed, that they should be at once pleasant and convenient; that they should have a healthful afpedt, and apartments sufficiently separated from each other; that order and decency might be easily preserved, and that they might be repaired at a small expence. He ordered, that every house above the middling class, should have a hall, and a small periflyle, with separate chambers for all the free persons of the family; but he prohibited, under severe penalties, the superfluous number and magnificence of apartments, that ollentation and luxury had introduced. Houses erecfled upon these models, according to the size of the family, served to embellifli one part of the city at a small expence, and give it a regular appearance j while the other part, which was already finished according to the caprice and vanity of individuals, was, notwithstanding its magnificence, less pleasing and convenient. This city was built in a very short time; because the neighbouring coafl: of Greece furnished very fliilful architefts, and a great number of mafons repaired thither from Epirus, and other countries, upon the promise, that, after they had finished 6 their their work, they should be established in the neighbourhood of Sakntum, where land should be granted them to clear, and where they would contribute to people the country.

Painting and fculpture were arts, which Mentor thought fliouId by no means be profcribed; but he permitted the prafticc of them to few. He eftablilhed a school under mailers of an exquifite taste, by whom the performances of the pupils were examined: " There should be no mediocrity, says he, in the arts which are not neceflary to life; and, consequently, no youth should be permitted to pradlife them, but such as have a genius to excel: others were designed, by nature, for less noble occupations; and may be very ufcfully employed, in fupplying the ordinary wants of the community. Sculptors and painters Ihould be employed, only to preserve the memory of great men, and great adiions; and the reprefentations of whatever has been atchieved, by heroic virtue, for the service of the public, should be preserved only ia public buildings, or on the monuments of the dead." But what* ever was the moderation or frugality of Mentor, he indulged the taste of magnificence in the great buildings, that were intended for public fports, the races of horses and chariots, combats with the ceftus, wreftling, and all other exercifcs which render the body more agile and vigorous.

He fupprefled a great number of traders, that fold wrought ftufFs of foreign manufacture; embroidery of an excessive price; vafes of silver and gold, emboffed with various figures in bas-relief; diftilled liquors, and perfumes: he ordered also, that the furniture of every house should be plain and fubilantial, fo as not soon to wear out. The people of Salentum, therefore, who had been used to complain of being poor, began to perceive that they abounded in fupa-fluous riches } but that this fuperfluity was of a deceitful

G g 2 kind j

228 B O O K xn.

kind; that they were poor in proportion as they poJTefTed it, and that, in proportion as they reUnquiflied it only, they could be rich: " To become truly rich, said they, is to despise such riches as exhaufl the flate; and to lefTen the number of our wants, by reducing them to the neccllities of virtue."

, Mentor also took the first opportunity to visit the arfenals and magazines; and examine whether the arms, and other necefTaries of war, were in a good condition: " To be always ready for war, said he, is the fureft way to avoid it." He found many things wanting, and immediately employed artificers in brafs and iron to supply the defe6ts. Furnaces are immediately built; and fmoke and flame ascend in cloudy volumes, like those that iflTue fi"om the fubterranean fires of mount jEtna: the hammer rings upon the anvil, which groans under the ftroke; the neighbouring shores and mountains re-echo to the found; and a fpedtator of these preparatives for war, made by a provident fagacity during a profound peace, might have thought himself in that island, where Vulcan animates the Cyclops by his example, to forge thunder for the Father of the Gods..

Mentor then went with Idomeneus out of the city, and found a great extent of fertile country wholly uncultivated; besides considerable trads that were cultivated but in part, through the negligence or poverty of the hufbandmen,^ or the want of spirit, or the want of hands. " This country, said he to the king, is ready to enrich its, inhabitants, but the inhabitants arc not sufficient to cultivate the country; let us, then, remove the superfluous artificers from the city, whose profeflions serve only to corrupt the manners of the people, and let us employ them in fertilizing these plains and hills. It is a misfortune, that these men, having been employed in arts which require a fedentary life, are unufed to labour; btrt we we Will try to remedy this evil; we will divide thcfe uncultivated lands in lots among them, and call in the neighbouring people to their afliflance, who will gladly undertake the most laborious part of the work, upon condition that they shall receive a certain proportion of the produce of the lands they clear: they may afterwards be made proprietors of part of it, and be thus incorporated with your people, who are by no means fufhciently numerous: if they prove diligent, and obedient to the laws, they will be good fubjedts, and encreafe your power. The artifans, whom you shall tranfplant from the city to the fields, will bring up their children to the labours of rural life; and the foreigners, whom you have employed to aflift in building your- city, have engaged to clear part of your lands, and become hufbandmei>: these men, as soon as they have finished' the public buildings, you should incorporate with your people; they will think themselves happy, to pass their lives under a government, fo gentle as that which you have now established; and as they are robull and laborious, then* example will animate the tranfplanted artificers, with whom they will be mixed, and, in a short time, your country will abound with a vigorous race, wholly devoted to agriculture.

"' When this is done, be in no pain about the multiplication of your people: they will, in a short time, become innumerable, if you facilitate marriage; and the most simple way of facilitating marriage, is the mofl efFe6tual. All men are naturally inclined to marry; and nothing prevents them from indulging this inclination, but the profpeA of difficulty and diflrefs: if you do not load them with taxes, their family will never become a burden; the earth is never ungrateful, but always affords fuftenaace to thofc who diligently cultivate it; it refufes its bounty only to those, who refuse their labour. Hufbandmen are always rich, in proportion to the number of their children, if their prince does not make them them poor; for their children afford them some afliftance, even from their infancy; the youngefl can drive the flock to pafture, those that are farther advanced can look after the cattle, and those of the third stage can vsrork with their father in the field. In the mean time, the girls assist the mother, who prepares a simple but whole some repaft for those that are abroad, when they return home fatigued with the labour of the day: she milks her cows and her flicep, and the pails overflow with longevity and health; she brings out her little flores, her cheefes, and her cheftnuts, with fruits that she has preserved from decay; she piles up the social fire, and the family gathers round it; every jcountenance brightens with the smile of innocence and peace; and some nu'al ditty diverts them, till the night calls them to rest. He that attended the flock, returns with his pipe; and when the family is got together, he fings them some new song, that he has learnt at the neighbouring village. Those that have been at work in the fields, come in with their plough, and the weary oxen that hang down their heads, and move with a flow and heavy pace, notwithstanding the goad, which now urges them in vain. All the fufl^erings of labour end with the day: the poppies which, at the command of the Gods, are scattered over the earth by the hand of sleep, charm away every care *, fwect enchantment lulls all nature into peace, and the weary rest, without anticipating the troubles of to-morrow. Happy, indeed, are these unambitious, miftrufllefs, artlefs people, if the Gods vouchfafe them a king, that difturbs not their blamelefs joy: and of what horrid inhumanity are they guilty, who, to gratify pride and ambition, wreft from them the sweet produdt of the field, which they owe to the liberality of nature, and the sweat of their btow! In the fruitful lap of nature, there is inexhauftible plenty for temperance and labour: if none were luxurious and idle, none would be wretched and poor."

"' But

" But what shall I do, said Idomeneus, if the people that I fcatter ever this fertile country, should negleft to cultivate it?" " You must do, said Mentor, jufl: contrary to what is commonly done: rapacious and inconfiderate princes think only of taxing those, who are most induftrious to improve their lands; because, upon thefc, they fuppofc, a tax will be more eafdy levied; and they spare those, whom, idleness has made indigent. Reverfe this miilaken and injurious conduft, which opprefles virtue, rewards vice, and encourages a fupinenefs, that is eq-iially fatal to the king, and to the Hate. Let your taxes be heavy upon those, who negleiSt the cultivation of their lands; and add, to your taxes, fines, and other penalties if it is necefTary; punish the negligent and the idle, as you would the soldier who Ihould defcrt his pofl. On the contrary, distinguish those, who, in proportion as their families nuiltiply, cultivate their lands with the greater diligence, by special privileges and immunities: every family will then become numerous; and every one will be animated to labour, not by the desire: of gain only, but of honour: the Hate of hufbandry being no longer wretched, will no longer be contemptible; the plougli once more held in honour, will be guided by the vi(5torious hands that have defended the country; and it will not be less glorious, to cultivate a paternal inheritance in the security of peace, than to draw the sword in its defence, when it is endangered by war. The whole country will bloom around you: the golden ears of ripe corn, will again crown the temples of Ceres; Bacchus will tread the grapes in rich clufters under his feet; and wine, more delicious than nedar, will flow from the hills like a river: the vallies will refound to the song of the fliepherds, who, difperfed along the banks of a tranfparent ftream, shall join their voices with the pipe; while their flocks shall frolic round them, and feast upon the flowery pafture without fear of the wolf.

*' O Ido-

" O Idomcneus! will it not make you supremely happy, to be the source of such prosperity; to ftretch your protedion, like the shadow of a rock, over fo many people, who will repose under it in security and peace? Will you not, in the consciousness of this, enjoy a noble elation of mind, a calm sense of fuperiour glory; such as can never touch the bosom of the tyrant, who lives only to defolatc the earth, and who diffufes, not less through his own dominions, than those which he conquers from others, carnage and tumult, horror and anguish, confternation, famine, anddefpair? Happy, indeed, is the prince, whom his own greatness of foul, and the diilinguiihing favour of the Gods, shall render thus the delight of his people, and the example of succeeding ages! The world, inflead of taking up arms to oppose his power, will be found prollrate at his feet, and fuing to be fubjed to his dominion."

" But, said Idomeneus, when the people shall be thus blessed with plenty and peace, will not their happiness corrupt their manners; will they not turn, againfl: me, the very strength I have given them:" " There is no reason to fear that, said Mentor: the fycophants of prodigal princes, have fuggefled it as a pretence for oppreilion; but it may easily be prevented. The laws which we have eflabliflied v/ith refpecSt to agriculture, will render life laborious; and the people, notwithstanding their plenty, will abound only in what is necelTary, for we have prohibited the arts that furniih fuperfluities: and the plenty even of neceflaries will be redrained within due bounds, by the facility of marriage, and the multiplication of families. In proportion as a family becomes numerous, their portion of land being Hill the fame in extent, a.more diligent cultivation will become neceflary; and this will require inceffimt labour. Luxury and idleness only, render people infolent infolent and rebellious: they will have bread, indeed, and they -will have bread enough; but they will have nothing more, except what they can gain, from their own ground, by the sweat of their brow,

" That your people may continue in this state of mediocrity, it will be necessary that you should now limit the extent of ground, that each family is to possess. We have, you know, divided your people into seven clafTes, according to their different conditions; and each family, in each class, mult be permitted to poiTefs only such an extent of ground, as is absolutely necellary to fubfifl: it. This regulation being inviolably observed, the nobles can never g^t poireflion of the lands of the poor: every one will have land j but fo much only-, as.will make a diligent cultivation necefTary. If, in a long course of years, the people iliould be fo much increased, that land cannot be found for them at home; they may be sent to form colonies abroad, which will be a new advantage to the mother country.

" I am of opinion, that cate' should be taken, even to prevent wine from being too common in your kingdom: if you find that too many vines are planted, you should cause them to be grubbed up. Some of the mofl dreadful mifchiefs that afflid: mankind^ proceed from wine; it is the cause of disease, quarrels, fcdition, idleness, aversion to labour, and eveiy species of domellic disorder. Let wine, then, be considered as a kind of medicine j or as a fcarce liquor, to be used only at the sacrifices of the Gods, or in seasons of public feftivity. Do not, however, flatter yourself, that this regulation can ever take place, without the fancflion of your own example.

" The laws of Minos, with refpecH: to the education of children, must also be inviolably preserved: public schools mufl be established, to teach them the fear of the Gods; the love of their country j a reverence for the laws; and a preference of honour,

H h not not only to pleasure, but to life. Magiftrates mud be appointed, to fuperintcnd the condutft, not of every family only, but every person: you must keep also your own eye upon them; for you are a king* only to be the shepherd of your people, and to watch over your flock night and day. By this unremitted vigilance you will prevent many disorders and many crimes: such as you cannot prevent, you must immediately punish with severity; for, in this case, severity to the individual, is clemency to the public; it flops those irregularities at their source, which would deluge the country with misery and guilt: the taking away of one life upon a proper occasion, will be the preservation of many; and will make a prince sufficiently feared, without general or frequent severity. It is a deteftable maxim, that the security of the prince depends only upon the opprefTion of the people. Should no care be taken, to improve their knowledge or their morals? Instead of being taught to love him, whom they are born to obey; should they be driven by terror to despair; and reduced to the dreadful neceflity, either of throwing off the yoke of their tyrant, or perifhing under its weight? Can this be the way to reign with tranquillity; can this ibe the path that leads to glory?

" Remember, that the sovereign who is mod absolute, is always least powerful: he feizes upon all, and his grasp is ruin. He is, indeed, the sole proprietor of whatever his state contains; but, for that reason, his state contains nothing of value: the fields are uncultivated, and almost a defart; the towns lose some of their few inhabitants every day; and trade every day declines. The king, who must cease to be a king when he ceases to have subject:s, and who is great only in virtue of his people, is himself infenfiblv losing his chara6ter and his power, as the number of his people, from whom alone both are derived, infenfibly diminishes; and his dominions are at length exhausted of money and of men: the loss of men, is the greatest^ and the mofl: irreparable he can sustain. 2 Absolute

XII.

Absolute power degrades every fubje6l to a slave j the tyrant is flattered, even to an appearance of adoration; and every one trembles at the glance of his eye: but, at the leail revolt, this enormous power periflies by its own excess. It derived no strength from the love of the people; it wearied and provoked all that it could reach; and rendered every individual of the state, impatient of its continuance. At the first flroke of opposition, the idol is overturned, broken to pieces, and trodden under foot: contempt, hatred, fcar^ refentment, diftruft, and every other paflion- of the foul, unite againfl fo hateful a defpotifm. The king, who, in his vain prosperity, found no man bold enough to tell him the truth; in his adveriity, finds no man kind enough to excuse his faults, or todefend him againfl his enemies."

Idomeneus then hafled to distribute his uncultivated lands, to' people them with useless artificers, and to carry all the counsels of Mentor into execution; referving, for the builders, such parts as had been allotted them, which they were not to cultivate, till they had finished the city.

The END of the TWELFTH BOCK.

S.W.dcf^

C.iiji

X W.jL'. J.u\ i *rrttjflli>n /■ xiir.

THE mild and equitable government of Idomeneus, soon brought the inhabitants of the neighbouring countries, in crowds to Salentum, to be incorporated with his people, and share the felicity of his reign. The fields, which had been long overgrown with thorns and brambles, now promised a ri_£lxjiaryefl, and fruits that were unknown before; the earth opens her bosom to the plough-share, and gets ready her treasures to reward the hufbandman; every eye fparkles with. hope; innumerable flocks whiten, alike, the vallies, and the hills; the mountains refound with the lowings of cattle, which, in large herds, share the pafture with the sleep; and the paflurc thus manured, becomes more ffci:tile, in proportion to the number that it feeds. These flocks and herds were procured by the contrivance of Mentor, who advised Idomeneus to exchange, for them, with the Peucetes, a neighbouring bouring people, such fuperfluities, as were prohibited by the new regulations at Salcntum.

At the fame time, the city and the adjacent villages were filled •with the youth of both fexes, who had long languiflicd in dejedion and indigence, and did not dare to marry for fear of increasing their distress. When they perceived, that Idomeneus had adopted sentiments of humanity, and was become the father of his people; they feared no longer the want of food, nor any other fcourge with which Heaven chaftifes the earth. Nothing was heard, but fliouts of joy, and the songs of fliepherds and hufbandmen, at the celebration of their marriage: Pan seemed himself to be among them; and Fauns and Satyrs to mix with nymphs in the dance, which the rural pipe prompted in the chequered fhade. .Tranquillity was every where heightened into joy; but the joy was no where perverted into riot: it served only as a relaxation from labour; and that labour rendered it, at once, more poignant and more pure.

The old men were allonifhed to see, what they had never dared to hope through the whole course of a long life, and burfl into tears with excess of tenderness, and joy. Their pleasure soon kindled into devotion; and raifmg their tremulous hands to Heaven, they cried out, *' O mighty Jupiter! bless the prince that resembles thee; and is himself the greatest blelTmg thou couldft bestow upon us. He is born for the.benefit of mankind: return to him the benefits that we receive from him. The children of these marriages, and their descendants to the last generation, will be indebted to him for their exiflence, and he will be truly the father of his people!" The young couples that were married, expreiled their joy, by singing the praifcs of him from whom it was derived: his name was continually in their lips, and his image in their heart: they thought themselves happy, if they could see him; and they feared his death, as the greatest evil that could befal them.

And

23B 1^ O O K Xlil.

And now Idomencus confefTed to Mentor, that he had never felt any pleasure, equal to that of diffufing happiness and exciting afFeftion: " It is a pleasure, said he, of which I had no idea. I thought the greatness of a prince, consisted in his being the objeft of fear; and that the rest of mankind were made only for him. "What I had heard of kings that were the love and the delight oJF their people, I despised as a fable; but I now revere it as truth. I will, however, tell you, by what means these false notions, the <cause of all my misfortunes, were early planted in my heart.

" Among other persons, whom I loved when I was very young, were Protefdaus and Philocles. Protefilaus was somewhat older than myself, and was my chief favourite: his natural disposition, which was fprightly and enterprizing, exadlly correfponded with my own; he entered into all my pleasures, he flattered all my passions, and he endeavoured to render me fufpicious of Philocles. Philocles had great reverence of the Gods, an elevated mind, and obedient passions: he placed greatness, not in the acquifition of power, but the conqucft of himself, and in never ftooping to a mean acflion: he often warned me of my faults with great freedom; and when he did not dare to speak, his silence, and the sorrow that was exprefled in his countenance, sufficiently convinced me, that I had given cause for reproach.

" This fmcerity, at first, gave me pleasure; and I frequently protested, that I would always listen to the truths he told me, as the best prefervative against flattery: he diredted me how to walk in the steps of Minos, and give happiness to my people: his wisdom was not, indeed, equal to thine; but I now know, that his counsel was good. By degrees, however, the artifices of Protefdaus, who was jealous and afpiring, succeeded. The franknefs and integrity of Philocles difgufted me: he saw himself decline under the afcendancy dancy of Protcfilaus, without a struggle,- and contented himself with always telHng me the truth, whenever I would hear it; for he had my advantage, and not his own intcreft in view.

" Protefilaus infenfibly persuaded me, that he was of a morofc and haughty temper; that he was a severe cenfor of my condudl, from a spirit of difcontent; that he alked me no favour, only because he difdained obligation, and afpircd to the charader of a man superior to any honours that could be conferred by his prince. He a,dded, that this youth, who fpokc fo freely of my faults to myfclf, spoke of them also with the fame.freedom to others; that he infmuated, I was little worthy of cfteem; and that, by thus rendering me cheap in the eyes of the people, and by the artful parade of an aufterc virtue, he intended to open himself a way to the throne. At firll I could not believe, that Philocles intended to deprive me of my crown: there is, in true virtue, something open and ingenuous, which no art can counterfeit, and which, if it is attended to, can never be mistaken. But the lleadinefs with which Philocles opposed my follies, began to weary me; and the flattering compliance of Protefdaus, and his indefatigable industry to procure me new pleasures, made me still more impatient of his rival's aufterity.

" In the mean time, Protefdaus, perceiving that I did not believe all he had told me of Philocles; and his pride difdaining the suspicion, which his falfchood had deserved; resolved to say nothing more to me about him, but to remove ray doubts, by stronger evidence than speculation and argument: he, therefore, advised me, to give him the command of some velTels that were fitted out againfl a fleet of the Carpathians, and supported his advice with great fubtilty: " You know, says he, that my commendations of Phi-' locles

24b BOOK. XIIL locks cannot be fufpeded of partiality; he is certainly brave, and has a genius for war; he is more fit for this service, than any other person you can send; and I prefer the advancement of your interest, to the gratification of my own refentmcnt."

This infiance of generous integrity in a man, to whom I had intrufted the moll important alTairs, delighted me: I embraced him in a tranfport of joy, and thought myself fuperlatively happy to have placed my confidence in a man, who appeared to be at once superior to palfion and to interest. But, alas! how much are princes to be pitied! This man knew me better, than I knew myself; he knew, that kings are generally miilruftful and indolent: miftruftful, by perpetually experiencing the artifices of the defigning and corrupt; and indolent, by the pleasures that folicit them, and an habit of leaving all business to others, without taking the trouble fo much as to think for themselves: he knew, therefore, that it would not be difficult to render me jealous of a man, who could not fail to perform great a(n:ions; especially, when he was not present to detedl the fallacy.

" Philocles forefaw, at his depaiture, what would happen: " Remember, says he, that 1 can now no longer defend myself; that you will be acceffible, only to my enemy; and that while I am serving you at the risk of my life, I am likely to obtain no other recompence than your indignation." " You are mistaken, said I: Protefilaus does not speak of you, as you speak of hini; he commends, he elleems you, and thinks you worthy of the mofl important trufl: ; if he should speak against you, he would forfeit my confidence: go, therefore, upon your expedition, without fear; and think only, how to condu(5l it with advantage." He departed, and left me in uncommon perplexity,

" I con-

" I confess, that I saw, very clearly, the neceflity of confulting many underftandings; and that nothing could more injure my reputation, or my interest, than an implicit resignation to the counsels of an individual. I knew, that the prudent advice of Philocles had preserved me from many dangerous errors, whirh the haughtinefs of Protefilaus would have led me into: I Wi. 3 conscious, that, in the mind of Philocles, there was a fund of probity and wisdom, that I did not find in Protefilaus; hut I had fuifered Protefilaus to aflume a kind of didatorial manner, which at length I found myself fcarce able to refiil. I grew weary of confulting two men, who could never agree; and chose rather to hazard something in the adminiflration of my affairs, than continue the trouble of examining opposite opinions, and judging for myself which was the befl. It is true, I did not dare to aflign the motives of fo fhameful a choice, even to myself; but these motives still continued their secret influence in my heart, and dire(5led all my a(5lions.

" Philocles surprised the enemy, and having gained a complcat vidtory, was hailing home to prevent the ill offices he had reason to fear j but Protefilaus, who had not had time to effedt his purpose, wrote him word, that it was my pleasure he should improve his vidlory, by making a descent upon the island of Carpathus. He had, indeed, persuaded me, that a conqucft of that island might easily be made; but he took care, that many things neccffary to the enterprize, should be wanting: he gave Philocles also such orders, as could not fail to embarrafs him in the execution of it. hi the mean time, he engaged one of my domeftics, a man of very corrupt manners, .who was much about mc, to observe all that paflcd, even to the minuteft incident, and give him an account of it; though they appeared seldom to see each other, and never to agree. This domestic, whose name was Timocrates, came to me one day,

I i and and told me, as a great secret, that he had difcovcred a very dangerous affair: " Philocles, says he, intends, by the affiflance of your forces, to make himself king of Carpathus. The officers are all in his interest; and he has gained the private men, partly by his hberaHty, but principally by the pernicious irregularities which he tolerates among them. He is greatly elated by his victory; and here is a letter, which he has written to one of his friends, concerning his project;, which, after such evidence, it is impossible to doubt."

" I read the letter, which appeared to me to be in the handwriting of Philocles; but it was a forgery, concerted and executed between Protefdaus and Timocrates. This letter threw me into great astonishment; I read it again and again; and when I called to mind, how many affe<5ting proofs Philocles had given me of diiintercfted fidelity, I could not persuade myself that he was the writer: yet, seeing the charadlers to be his, what could I determine I

" When Timocrates perceived that his artifice had thus far fuc- Ceeded, he puflied it farther: " May I prefumc, said he, hefitating, to make one remark upon this letter? Philocles tells his friend, that he may speak in confidence toProtefilaus of one thing; but he cxpreffes that one thing by a cypher. Protefilaus is certainly a party in the projeft of Philocles, and they have accommodated their differences at your expcncc. You know, it was Protefilaus that preffed you to send Philocles upon this expedition; and, for some time, he has defifted from fpcaking against him, as he has been used to do: he now takes every opportunity to excuse and commend him; and they have frequently met upon very good terms. There is no doubt, that Protefilaus has concerted measures with Philocles, to Ihare his conqueil between them. You see, that he urged you to this enterpx'ize, against all rules of prudence and of of policy; and that, to gratify his ambition, he has endangered the loss of your fleet: is it poflible, that he would have rendered Iwmfelf thus fubfcrvient to the ambition of Philoclcs, if there had been enmity between them? It is manifest, that they are aJliKiated in a design to aggrandize themfclves, and perhaps to fupplant you in the throne. I know, that, by thus revealing my fufpicions, I expose myself to their refentment, if you shall still leave your authority in their hands: however, fmcc I have done my duty, I am careless of the event."

" The last words of Timocrates, funk deep into my mind: I made no doubt, but that Philocles was a traitor; and I fufpe(5led Protefilaus, as his friend, hi the mean time, Timocrates was continually telling me, that, if I waited till Philocles had made a conquest of Carpathus, it would be too late to fruftrate his designs: " You mull, says he, secure him, while he is in your power." But I was llruck with such horror at the deep difllmulation of mankind, that I knew not whom to trufl: : after having discovered Philocles to be a traitor, I knew no man, whose virtue could preclude suspicion. I resolved to cut off Philocles immediately; but I feared Protefdaus; and, with refpeft to him, I was in doubt what to do: I feared equally to find him guilty, and to trufl him as innocent.

" Such was the perplexity of my mind, that I could not forbear telling him, I had some fufpicions of Philocles. He heard mc with an appearance of the greatest furprizc: he reminded me of his integrity and moderation, in many inflances; he exaggerated his services; and did every thing, that could flrengthen my fufpicions of there being too good an understanding between them. Timocrates, at the fame time, was equally diligent on his part, to fix my attention upon every circumstance, that favoured the notion

I i a of

B O O. K XIII.

of a confederacy; and was continually urging me to deflroy Philocles, while it was in my power. How unhappy a Hate, my dear Mentor, is royalty! and how much are kings the -fport of other men, while other men appear to be trembling at their feet!

" I thought it would be a ftroke of profound policy, and totally difconcert Protefilaus, to cut off Philocles immediately, by sending Timocrates secretly to the fleet for that purpose. Protefilaus, in the mean time, carried on his diflimulation, with the fteadieft perseverance, and moll refined fubtilty: he deceived me,, by appearing to be himself deceived. I sent away Timocrates, who found Philocles greatly embarraflTed in making his descent, for which he was wholly unprovided: Protefilaus, forefeeing that his. forged letter might fail of its effeft, had taken care to have another refource, by making an enterprize difficult which he had persuaded me would be easy, and the mifcarriage of which, therefore, could not fail of expofing Philocles, who conduced it, to my refentment. Philocles, however, fuftained himself under all dif-: ficulties, by his courage, his genius, and his popularity among the troops. There was not a private soldier in the army, who did not see, that the proje<5t of a descent was rafli and impracflicable; yet, every one applied to the execution of it, with the fame adlivity and zeal, as if his life and fortune depended upon its success; and every one was, at all times, ready to hazard his life, under a commander, who was universally reverenced for his wisdom, and loved for his benevolence.

" Timocrates had every thing to fear, from an attempt upon the life of a general, in the midst of an army by which he was adored: but the fury of ambition is always blind; and he saw neither difficulty, nor danger, in any measure, that could gratify Protefilaus, in concert with whom, he hoped to govern me without controul, as as soon as Philocles fhoiild be dead. Protcfilaus could not bear the prefcnce of a man, whose very looks were a filcnt reproach, and who could at once difappoint all his projcds by dilclofing them to me.

" Timocrates, having corrupted two of Philocles's officers, who were continually about his perfcn, by promising them a great reward in my name; sent him word, that he had some private inflru(5lions to communicate to him from me, and that those two officers only mull be present. Philocles immediately admitted them to a private room, and shut the door. As soon as they were alone, Timocrates made a ftroke at him with a poignard, which entering obliquely, made but a flight wound. Philocles, with the calm fortitude of a man familiar with danger, forced the weapon out of his hand, and defended himself with it against the affaffins, at the fame time calling for assistance: some of the people that waited without, immediately forced the door, and difengaged him from his affiiilants, who, being in great confusion, had made a feeble and irrefolute attack. They were immediately fecui ed; and such was the indignation of the soldiers, that they would the next moment have been torn to pieces, if Philocles had not interpofcd. After the first tumult had fubfided, he took Timocrates afidc, and asked him, without any tokens of refentment, what had prompted him to fo horrid an attempt. Timocrates, who was afraid of being instantly put to death, made hafle to produce the written order which I had given him, for what he had done; and as every villain is a coward, he thought only of saving his life, and, therefore, without reserve, difclofed the whole treachery of Protefilaus.

" Philocles, though he was unmoved at the danger of the projed which had been formed against him, was yet terrified at its guilt J he thought himself not a match for the malice of mankind.

24G BOOK XIII.

kind, and therefore determined no longer to druggie with it. He declared to the troops, that Timocrates was innocent; he took care to secure him from their refentment, and he sent him back in safety to Crete. He then gave up the command of the army to Polimenes, whom I had appointed, by a written order, to succeed him; and having exhorted the troops to continue fledfafl in the fidelity they owed me, he went on board a small bark in the night, which landed him npon the island of Samos, where he Hill lives, with great tranquillity, in poverty and solitude. He procures a fcanty fubfiftence, by working as a llatuary; and wishes not fo much as to hear of men, who are perfidious and unjust; much less of kings, whom he believes to be the moll deceived, and the mofl unhappy of men."

Idomeneus was here interrupted by Mentor: "Was it long, said he, before you discovered the truth?" " No, said Idomeneus; but I discovered it by degrees. It was, indeed, not long, before Protefilaus and Timocrates quarrelled; for it is, with great difficulty, that the wicked can agree; and their difiention at once discovered the depth of the abyss, into which they had thrown me." " Well, said Mentor, and did you not immediately difmifs them both?" " Alas! said Idomeneus, can you be fo ignorant of my weakness, or the perplexity of my situation? When a prince has once delivered up himfclf, with implicit confidence, to bold and defigning men, who have the art of rendering themselves neccffary; he mull never more hope to be free. Those, whom he most djsfpifes, he most distinguishes by his favour, and loads with benefits. I abhoiTed Protefilaus, and yet left him in the pofieflion of all my authority. Strange infatuation! I was plcafed to think, that I knew him, yet I had not resolution enough to avail myself of that knowledge, and refume the power of which he was unworthy. 8 I found

I found him, indeed, pliant and attentive; very diligent to flatter my paflions, and very zealous to advance my interests. I had, besides, some reasons, which enabled me to excuse my weakness to myself: having, unhappily, never chosen persons of integrity to manage my affairs, I doubted whether there was any such thing as integrity in the world. I considered virtue, rather as a phantom than a reality; and thought it ridiculous, to get out of the hands of one bad man, with great flxuggle and commotion, merely to fall into the hands of another, who would neither be less interefled, nor moi*c sincere. In the mean time, the fleet commanded by Polimenes, returned to Crete: I thought no more of the conquefl: of Carpathus; and Protefdaus's difllmulation was not fo deep, but that I could perceive he was greatly mortified, to hear that Philoclcs was out of danger at Samos."

" But, {aid Mentor, though you fl;ill continued Protefilaus in his pofl^ did you ftiJl trufl your affairs implicitly to his management?" '* I was, said Idomeneus, too much an enemy to business and application, to take them out of his hands: the trouble of inftru(5ting another, would have broken in upon the plan of life which my indolence had formed, and I had not resolution to attempt it. I chose, rather, to shut my eyes, than to see the artifices that were pra6tifed against me; and contented myself with letting a few of my favorites know, that I was not ignorant of his treachery. Thus knowing that I was cheated, I imagined myself to be cheated but to a certain degree. I sometimes made Protefilaus fenfiblc, that I was oflTended at his ufurpation j I frequently took pleasure in contradi(5ling him, in blaming him publickly for something he had done, and deciding contrary to his opinion: but he knew my fupinenefs and sloth too well, to have any apprehenfions upon this account; he always returned rcfolutely to the charge, sometimes with argument and importunity, sometimes with foftnefs nefs and infinuation; and, whenever he perceived that I was offended, he doubled his affiduity, in furnifhing such new amufements as were most Hkely to footh and foften me, or to engage me in some affair which he knew would make his assistance necelTary, and afford him an opportunity of fliewing his zeal for my reputation.

" This method of flattering my passions, always succeeded, notwithstanding I was upon my guard againil it. He knew all my secrets, he relieved me in every perplexity, and he made the people tremble at my name: I could not, therefore, resolve to part with him; and yet, by keeping him in his place, I put it out of the power of honefl men to fhew me my true interest. No man spoke freely in my council; truth withdrew far from me; and error, the harbinger of the fall of kings, perpetually punished me, for having sacrificed Philocles to the cruel ambition of Protefdaus. Even those who were best affedted to my person and government, thought themselves not obliged to undeceive me, after fo dreadful an example; and I myself, my dear Mi ntor, even I myself was secretly afraid, that truth lliould buril through the cloud of flattery that surrounded me, and reach me with irrefiftible radiance; for I should have been troubled at the presence of a guide, which I could not but approve, yet wanted resolution to follow. I should have regretted my vafTalage, without ftruggling to be free; for my own indolence, and the afcendancy which Protefilaus had gained over me, concurred to chill me with the torpor of despair. I was conscious to a fliameful situation, which I wished alike to hide, from others and myself. You know, that vain pride, and false glory, are hereditary to kings, who can never bear to acknowledge either an error or a fault; to conceal one, they will commit an hundred; and rather than acknowledge they have been once deceived, they will suffer themselves to be deceived for ever. Such is is the condition of weak and indolent princes j and such was mine, when I set out for the siege of Troy I

" I left the sole administration of my government, to Protcfilaus; and he behaved, during my absence, with great haughtincfs and inhumanity. The whole kingdom groaned under his oppression; but no man dared to send information of it to me: they knew, that I dreaded the fight of truth; and that I always gave up, to the cruelty of Protefilaus, those that ventured to speak against him: but the mischief increased, in proportion to the fear that concealed it. He afterwards obliged me to difmifs Merion, who followed me to the siege of Troy, and acquired immortal honour in the expedition; he grew jealous of him after my return; as he did of every man, who was diftinguifhcd, either by my favour, or his own virtue.

" This afcendancy of Protefilaus, my dear Mentor, was the source of all my misfortunes: the revolt of, the Cretans, was not fo much the cfFecft of the death of my son, as of the vengeance of the Gods whom my follies had provoked, and the hatred of the people which Protefilaus had drawn upon me. An opprcflive and tyrannical government had totally exhaulled the patience of my fubje^s, when I imbrued my hands in the blood of my son; and the horror of that acStion, only threw off the veil from what had long lain concealed in their hearts.

" Timocrates went with me to the siege of Troy; and gave private intelligence to Protefilaus, by letter, of all that he could discover. I was conscious, that I was in captivity; but, instead of making an effort to be free, I difmiflTed the fubje<5t from my thoughts in despair. When the Cretans revolted at my return, Protefilaus and Timocrates were the first that fled; and would certainly have abandoned me, if I had not been obliged to fly almoll

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£^a BOOK XIII.

at the fame time. Be afilired, my dear Mentor, that those who are infolcnt in prosperity, are paflive and timid in diflrefs: the jnoment they are difpoffefled of their authority, all is confternation and despair; in proportion as they have been haughty, they become abjedl; and they pass, jln a moment, from one extream. to ihe other,"

" But how comes it, said Mentor, that, notwithstanding you perfectly know the wickedness of these men, I Hill see them about you? I can account for their following you hither, Because they had no profpeft of greater advantage j and I can easily conceive, th-flt you might afford them an asylum in this rifmg city,, from a principle of generosity: but, from what motive, can yoU' still deliver yourself up to their management, after such dreadful experience of the mifchiefs it mull produce I"

" You are not aware, said Idomeneus, how little experience itself can avail to the indolent, who are eq^ually averfe to bufmefs and! refle(ftion: they ai-e, indeed, diflatisfied with every thing j but, for want of resolution, they reform nothing. An habitual conne<Sbion; with these men, which many years had confirmed, at length boundme to them, by fhackles that I could not break. As soon as! came hither, they precipitated me into that excessive expence, of which you have been witness; they have exhaufled the itrength of this rising flate; they involved me in the war, which,, without your affiflance, mufl have destroyed me; and I should soon have experienced at Salentum, the fame misfortunes which banished me from Crete. But you have, at once, opened my eyes, and inspired me with resolution. In your presence, I am conscious to an influr fence for which I cannot account; my weaknefTes drop from me, like mortality from the foul, when she is difmifled, to the skies j; and"! feel myself a.ne^v being, in a more exalted flate."

X Mentors

Mentor then aflced Idomeneus, how Protcfilaus had behaved, dunng the change of mcafurcs which had lately taken place. " He has behaved, replied Idomeneus, with the mofl refined sub^ tilty. When you first arrived, he laboured to alarm my fufpicions by indireft infinuations: he alleged nothing against you himself j but now one, and then another, were perpetually coming to tell me, that the two flrangers were much to be feared: " One of them, said they, is the son of the crafty and defigning Ulysses; the other seems to have deep designs, and to be of a dark and involved spirit. They have been accustomed to wander from one kingdom to another, and who knows but they may have formed some design against this. It appears, even by their own account, that they have been the cause of great troubles, in the countries through which they have pafled; and we Ihould remember, that this state is still in its infancy, that it is not firmly established, and that a flight commotion will overturn it."

•' Upon this fubjed, Protefilaus was silent; but he took great pains to convince me, that the reformation, which, by your advice I had begun, was dangerous and extravagant. He urged me, by arguments drawn from my particular interest: " If you place your people, fai4 he, in a state of such case and plenty, they will labour no more; they will become infolent, intractable, and factious: weakness and distress only, can render them fupple and obedient." He frequently endeavoured to gain his point, by afluming his former afcendancy over me; but he concealed it under an appearance of zeal for my fcrvice: " By eafing your people, said he, you will degrade the regal authority; and this will be an irreparable injury, even to the people thcmfclves: nothing, but keeping them in the lowest fubjcclion, can preserve them from the reftleffiiefs of difcontent, and the turbulence of fadlion." To all this J replied, that I coiild easily keep the people to their duty, by malting them love me; by exerting all my authority, without

K k 2 abufing abufing it; by fleadily punifliing all offenders; by taking care, that children Ihould be properly educated; and by maintaining ftich discipline among the people, as should render life fimplc, fober, and laborious. What! said I, can no people be kept in sub^ jeftion, but those that are perilhing with hunger I Does the art of government exclude kindness, and mud the politician be necessarily divefted of humanity? How many nations do we see governed with a gentle hand, yet inflexibly loyal to their prince? Fadion and revolt are the effects of reftleflhefs and ambition in the great, whose paflions have been indulged to exccfs, and who have been suffered to abuse freedom into licentioufnefs; of the effeminacy, luxury, and idleness, of great numbers of all ranks; of too large a military eflablifhment, which must consist of persons, wholly unacquainted with every occupation that can be useful in a time of peace; and chiefly of the wrongs of an injured people, whom intolerable opprefTion has at lafl made defperate. The severity, the pride, and the indolence of princes, which render them incapable of that comprehensive vigilance, which alone can prevent disorder in the flate, are the firfl causes of tumult and infurrection } and not the secure and peaceful repafl of the hufbandman^ Tto-pon that bread, which he has obtaiiied by the sweat of his brow."

*' When Protefilaus perceived that, in these principles, I was inflexible, he totally changed his method of attack; he began to ad upont those very maxims, which he had laboured in vain to. fubvert; he pretended to adopt them from convi<5lion, and with a relifli; and exprefTed great obligations to- me,, for removing his prejudices, and; throwing new light upon his mind^ He anticipates my very wishes: and, in order to relieve the poor, he is the firfl to represent their neceflities, and to exclaim againfl unnecefTary expence. He is^ even, as you know, become eloquent in your praise; he exprefTesthe greatcft confidence in your wifdoni anxl integrity;, and neglccfts. laothing that he thinks will give you pleafurc. His friendship with

Ximocraics.

Timocratcs seems to decline; Timocrates is endeavouring to throw off his dcpcndance; Protefdaus is become jealous of him j and it is partly by their difagreement, that I have discovered their treachery."

" You have then, said Mentor, with a smile, been weak enough to suffer, even by detefted villainy j and to continue fubfervicnt to traitors, after you knew their treafon." " Alas! said IdomeneuSj you do not know the power of artful men, over a weak and indolent prince, who has put the whole management of his affairs into their hands: belides, Protefdaus, as I have just told you, now enters, with great zeal, into all your proje(5ts for the general advantage of the state."

" I know but too well, said Mentor, with a look of some severity, that, of those that furround a prince, the wicked prevail over the good. Of this truth you are yourself a dreadful example: you say, that I have opened your eyes to. your true interefl; yet, you are still fo blind, as to trufl the administration of your government to a wretch, that is not fit to live. It is time you, should learnj, tJiat a man may perform good a(5lions, and be Hill wicked } that men of the worfl pi-incipl'cs and disposition, do good, when it serves. their purpose, with the fame facility as evil. It is true, that they do evil without reluctance, because they are witheld neither by sentiment noY principle -, but it is also true, that they do good without violence to themselves, because the fucccfs even of their vices,, depends upon appearances of virtue, which they do not possess;. and because they gratify their own. depravity, while they are deceiving mankind. They are, however, incapable of virtue, though tlicy appear to pradlife it; they can only add, to every other vice, that which is more odious than all, hypocrisy. While you continue refolutc and peremptory that good shall be done, Protefilaus> will do good to preserve his authority: but if he perceives the least tendency to reiaxaiion, lie will seize, and with, all his powers- improve prove the opportunity, to bewilder you again in perplexity and errors and refume his natural diffimulation and ferocity. Is it poflible that you should live with honour or in peace, while you see such a wretch as Protefilaus for ever at your fide; and remember, that Philocles, the faithful and the wife, Hill lives in poverty and difgrace at Samos?

" You acknowledge, O Idomeneus! that princes are overborn and milled, by bold and defigning men that are about them; but you Ihould not forget, that princes ai-e liable to another misfortune by no means inferiour, a propenfity to forget the virtues and the services of those that are absent. Princes being continually surrounded by a multitude, are not forcibly imprefled by any individual; they are ftitick only with what is present and pleasing: the remembrance of every thing else is soon obliterated; virtue afFe6ls them less than any other obje(5t, for virtue can seldom please, as it oppofcs and condemns their follies. Princes love nothing but pomp and pleasure > and who, therefore, can wonder, that princes are not beloved:"

The £ N D of the THIRTEENTH BOQK.

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j:Wal' dri.

O. Gr^pmrf^jh'. f

XIV.

AFTER this conversation, Mentor persuaded" Idomeneus, im^ mediately to difmifs Protefilaus and Timocrates, and recall Philoclcs. The king would immediately have complied, if there had not been a severity of virtue in Philocles, of which he feared' the eiFedls: " I confess, said he, that though I love and esteem him, I cannot perfc^ly reconcile myself to his return; I have, even; from my infancy, been accuftomcd to. praise, afliduity, and compliances, which, in Philocles, I iliall not find. Whenever I took: any measure that he difapproved, the dejection of his countenancewas sufficient to condemn me; and when we were together in^ private, his behaviour was refpe(51:ful and decent, indeed, but it was ungracious and austere."

" Do you not see, replied Mentor, that to princes, who have li>ecix..fpoiled by flattery, e-C'cry thing that:,is sincere and honest, appears.

25<5 BOOK XIV.

pears to be ungracious and auflere? Such princes are even weak enough, to fufped a want of zeal for their service, and respect for their authority, where they do not find a fervihty, that is ready to flatter them in the abuse of their power: they are j^fEendedat^ all fi^geclpm of speech, all generosity of sentiment, as pride, cenforioufnefs, andfedition; and contract a false delicacy, which every thing, Ihort of flattery, difappoints and difgufts. But let us fuppoie, that Philocles is really ungracious and auflere; will not his auftcrity be preferable to the pernicious flattery of those, that are now about you? Where will you find a man without fault? and is not that of speaking truth, in a manner fomcthing too rough and free, a fault from which you have less to fear than any other? Is it not, indeed, a fault, which your own indifcrction has made neceflTary to. your interest, as that only which can furmount the averlion to truth that flattery has given you? XQVi:..flaiid in need of a m;\nL_ who loves only truth and you; •who loves you better than you know how to 1qv£, yourself; who will speak truth notwithstanding yoiu" oppofltion, and force a way for it through all your intrenchments. Such a man, and fo necessary is Philocles. Remember, that the greatest good fortune a prince can hope is, that one man of such magnanimous generosity should be born in his reign: in comparison of such a man, all the treasures of the state are of no value; and a prince can fuff'er no punishment fo dreadful, as that of lofmg him, by becoming unworthy of his virtue, and not knowing how to profit by his services. You ought certainly to avail yourself of worthy men, though it is not neceflary that you should be blind to their faults; in these, never implicitly acquiefce, but endeavour to corretSt them. Give merit, however, always a favourable hearing; and let the public see, that you at once diftinguilh and honour it: but, above all things, strive to be no longer what you have been. JPrinces, whose virtues, like yours, have suffered by the vices of others,