How to Tell a Flatterer from a Friend (25-29)

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

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

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

speaks on his own behalf, and that this is not admonition but fault-finding. For frankness is friendly and noble, but fault-finding is selfish and mean. For this reason those who speak frankly are respected and admired, while fault-finders meet with recrimination and contempt. Agamemnon, for instance, has no patience with Achilles, who appears to have spoken with moderate frankness only, but when Odysseus assails him bitterly and says,

Hopeless and helpless! Would you had to rule some other Paltry band, not this,[*]

he yields and puts up with it, quieted by the friendly concern and good sense of the other’s words. For Odysseus, who had no ground for anger personally, spoke boldly to him in behalf of Greece, while Achilles seemed to be incensed chiefly on his own account. And it is true that Achilles himself, although he was not a man of sweet or gentle temper, [*] but a

Terrible man, who is given to blaming even the blameless,[*]

submitted himself to Patroclus in silence, although Patroclus often launched upon him strictures like this:

Ruthless man, your sire was not the knightly Peleus, Nor was Thetis your mother; no, the grey-gleaming ocean Bore you, and high rugged rocks, you are so hard-hearted.[*]

The orator Hypereides [*] used to tell the Athenians that it was only right that they consider, not merely whether he was bitter, but whether he was so upon no cause; and in the same way, the admonition of a thing to be treated with respect and reverence, not to be faced out. And if one also makes it clear that in speaking frankly he is leaving out of all account or consideration his friend’s lapses toward himself, but taking him to task for certain other shortcomings, and that it is in the interest of other persons that he visits him with stinging reproof so unsparingly, the force of such frankness is irresistible, and the generous attitude of the speaker serves only to intensify the bitterness and severity of his admonition. Therefore, while it has been well said that when we are angry or at variance with friends, we ought then most of all to be doing or planning what will be for their advantage or interest, yet it is no less material in friendship, when we feel that we ourselves are slighted and neglected, to speak frankly in behalf of others who are likewise being neglected, and to remind our friends of them. For example, Plato, in the midst of suspicions and disagreements with Dionysius, asked him for an appointment for an interview, and Dionysius granted it, supposing that Plato had some long tale of fault-finding to rehearse on his own account. But Plato talked with him somewhat after this fashion: If you should learn, Dionysius, that some ill-disposed man had made the voyage to Sicily, cherishing the desire to do you harm, but unable to find an opportunity, would you allow him to sail away, and should you let him withdraw unscathed? Far from it, Plato, said Dionysius, for not only the acts of enemies but their intentions as well must be detested and punished. If now, said Plato, somebody has come hither out of goodwill to you, wishing to be the author of some good to you, but you give him no opportunity, is it proper to let such a man go without showing him any gratitude or attention? When Dionysius asked who the man was, Aeschines, he said, in character as fair as any one of Socrates’ companions, and potent in speech to improve those with whom he may associate; but after sailing hither over a vast expanse of the sea in order to discuss philosophy with you, he finds himself neglected. These words so moved Dionysius, that he straightway embraced Plato affectionately, marvelling at his kindliness and high-mindedness, and afterwards he paid to Aeschines honourable and distinguished attentions.

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

Epicharmus to dinner. But the other day, said Epicharmus, you held a sacrifice without invitation, of friends! As badly answered Antiphon, when the question was up for discussion in the presence of Dionysius as to what is the best kind of bronze, and he said, The kind from which they fashioned the statues of Harmodius and Aristogeiton [*] at Athens. For the offensiveness and bitterness of such retorts profits nothing, their scurrility and frivolity gives no pleasure; but a retort of this kind betokens intemperance of the tongue combined with malice and arrogance, and not without enmity. By employing it men eventually bring about their own destruction, since they are simply dancing on the edge of the pit. For Antiphon was put to death by order of Dionysius, and Timagenes lost his place in Caesar’s [*] friendship because, while he never indulged in any high-minded utterance, yet in social gatherings and in discussions, for no serious purpose at all, but

Whatsoever he thought would move the Argives to laughter,[*]

he would on every possible occasion put forward friendship’s cause as an artful excuse for railing. It is true that the comic poets [*] addressed to their audiences many stern rebukes of value to the citizens; but the admixture of drollery and scurrility in them, like a vile dressing with food, made their frankness ineffective and useless, so that there was nothing left for the authors but a name of malice and coarseness, and no profit for the hearers from their words. On other occasions jest and laughter may well enough be employed with friends, but frankness of speech ought to have seriousness and character. And if it concern matters of greater moment, let feeling be so evident, the countenance so serious, and the voice so earnest that the words may claim credence and touch the heart. Failure to observe the proper occasion is in any case exceedingly harmful, but particularly when frankness is concerned it destroys its profitableness. That in the midst of wine and hard drinking we must be on our guard against anything of this sort is plain enough. It is like overcasting fair weather with a storm-cloud, when in the midst of jesting and merrymaking someone starts a discussion that makes others frown and sets the face in rigid lines, as though the topic were meant to combat the god of Relaxation who relaxes the bond of troubled cares, as Pindar [*] puts it. This neglect of occasion contains a great danger also. For men’s minds are perilously inclined to anger on account of the wine, and oftentimes heavy drinking takes control of their frankness and creates enmity. And in general, it does not show a noble or stout heart, but unmanliness rather, for one who never displays boldness of speech when he is sober to be bold at table, as is the way of cowardly curs. There is no need, then, to multiply words on this subject.

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

pleasure in the change because of their friend’s former disdain and their own weakness; it would therefore be well to discuss this matter also, and to make a reply to Euripides [*] when he says,

When Heaven grants us luck, what need of friends?

The reply is, that in good fortune men have most need of friends to speak frankly and reduce their excess of pride. For there are few persons who in good fortune have still a sober mind; most have need of discretion and reason to be put into them from without, which shall repress them when they are puffed up and unsettled with the favours of fortune. But when the Heavenly power casts them down and strips off their importance, there is in these calamities alone admonition enough to work repentance. Wherefore at such a time there is no use for a friend’s frankness or for words charged with grave and stinging reproof; but in such reversals truly

’Tis sweet to gaze into a kind man’s eyes,[*]

when he offers consolation and encouragement. And this was true of Clearchus, the sight of whose face, Xenophon [*] says, so kindly and benevolent in the midst of battles and perils, strengthened the confidence of the men in the face of danger. But he who applies frankness of speech and stinging reproof to a person in misfortune, might as well apply some stimulant of vision to a disordered and inflamed eye; he effects no cure nor any abatement of the pain, but only adds irritation to the painfulness, and exasperates the sufferer. Thus no man in good health, for instance, is at all harsh or ferocious against a friend who blames him for yielding to women and wine, or for being lazy and neglecting to take exercise, or for indulging perpetually in baths or unseasonable gourmandise. But for a man who is sick it is intolerable, nay, an aggravation of the sickness, to be told, See what comes of your intemperance, your soft living, your gluttony and wenching. Heavens, man, what a time to talk of that! I am writing my will, the doctors are preparing for me a dose of castor or scammony, and you admonish and lecture me! Under such conditions, then, the very circumstances in which the unfortunate find themselves leave no room for frank speaking and sententious saws, but they do require gentle usage and help. When children fall down, the nurses do not rush up to them to berate them, but they take them up, wash them, and straighten their clothes, and, after all this is done, they then rebuke and punish them. It is said that when Demetrius of Phalerum had been banished from his native land and was living in obscurity and humble station near Thebes, he was not well pleased to see Crates approaching, anticipating some cynical frankness and harsh language. But Crates met him with all gentleness, and conversed with him concerning the subject of banishment, how there was nothing bad in it, nor any good cause to feel distress, since thus he was set free from a hazardous and insecure office; at the same time he urged him not to be discouraged over himself and his present condition. Whereupon Demetrius, becoming more cheerful and once more taking heart, said to his friends, What a pity that those activities and occupations of mine have kept me from knowing a man like this!

The kindly words of friends for one in grief And admonitions when one plays the fool. [*]

This is the way of noble friends, but the ignoble and degraded flatterers of the fortunate are like the old fractures and sprains, which, as Demosthenes [*] says, are stirred afresh whenever the body suffers some ill, and so these persons have a clinging fondness for reverses, as though they were pleased with them and derived enjoyment from them. For if a man really needs a reminder where he has come to grief through following his own ill-advised counsel, sufficient are the words:

Never did I approve the act; indeed I often Spoke against it.[*]

In what circumstances, then, should a friend be severe, and when should he be emphatic in using frank speech? It is when occasions demand of him that he check the headlong course of pleasure or of anger or of arrogance, or that he abate avarice or curb inconsiderate heedlessness. Such was the frankness of Solon [*] towards Croesus, who was spoiled and pampered by fickle fortune, when he bade him look to the end. In such manner Socrates [*] tried to keep Alcibiades in check, and drew an honest tear from his eyes by exposing his faults, and so turned his heart. Of such sort was the conduct of Cyrus [*] towards Cyaxares, and of Plato toward Dion at the time when the latter was at the height of his splendour and was drawing the eyes of all mankind upon himself through the beauty and magnificence of his works, when Plato exhorted him to be on his guard against arbitrary self-will and to fear it, since it is companion to solitude. [*] Speusippus also

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