all quarters. Yet shame and fear prevent those precautions, which he deems requisite for his preservation; as an appearance of apprehension in a tyrant generates conspiracies from a contempt of his timidity. His life, accordingly, resembles that of a prisoner in a narrow cell, with swords suspended over him, and fixed round him, in contact with his skin. These swords, however, not only environ the body of a tyrant, but his soul likewise; so that Tantalus in the infernal regions, who is represented with a large stone hanging over him, lives more at ease than he; because free from the fear of death whereas a tyrant suffers in life the torment of Tantalus, who is dead already.

Such tyrants indeed, as domineer over a single city, or a small territory, may escape possibly from their dominion, and live whithersoever they choose to go: no man, however, loves a tyrant, but hates, and suspects him, and is ready to surrender him to his injured subjects but to them, whose sovereignty extends over many cities and nations, and an immeasurable tract of country, like the Persian monarch, though they may acquire at length a conviction of their miseries, and some indulgent God may draw the veil of ignorance from their understandings, escape is utterly impracticable, Nay, he would not expect to

five securely, though his body were changed into brass or steel; but even then, to be cut in pieces, or molten in the furnace (u).

If men converse with him under no restraint, he is angry, and alarmed by this freedom: if they cringe and crouch before him, that servility of homage excites suspicion. Liberal intercourse is regarded as an insult; humility, as a stratagem. From reproach he feels much more uneasiness than others; because a tyrant truly is reviled and praise communicates no pleasure, as the suspicious offspring of insincerity. Of those most valuable and honourable acquisitions he is wholly destitute, good-will and friendship. From no man can he hope for kindness for a keeper will sooner contract an affection for the ferocious lion, than servants and courtiers for a tyrant.

In the mean time, I, concludes Diogenes, go whither I please by night, and by day pass alone, if need be, even through a camp without a flag of truce, and the midst of assassinrobbers there is no enemy to molest me upon my journeys. If all the gold, and all the silver, and all the brass, should disappear, not the slightest inconvenience will accrue to me: and, if every house were laid prostrate by an earthquake, as once in Sparta; if all sheep should

be destroyed, and occasion an universal scarcity of apparel; if, not only in Attica, but through Boeotia and Peloponnesus and Thessaly, a famine should prevail, as in former ages; my comforts and accommodations would remain unimpaired. How can I become more naked, or more houscless, than at present? I find sufficient sustenance in apples, millet, barley, tares, the cheapest of all grains, beach-nuts on the hearth, and the fruit of the cornel-tree, with which Homer makes Circe regale the companions of Ulysses (v); a food, capable of supporting even beasts of the greatest magnitude (te).

DIOGENES,

OR

CONCERNING SERVANTS.

As Diogenes was once passing from Corinth

to Athens, he met an acquaintance on the road, and enquired whither he was going: not like the generality of men, who ask such questions, and shew by their manner at the same time an entire indifference to the welfare of their friends, walking away as soon as they receive an answer; but, as physicians enquire into the modes of life pursued by their patients, with a view to counsel them; enjoining some things, and forbidding others. So Diogenes enquired of his friend, how he did; who replied: I am on my way to Delphos, O! Diogenes; to consult the God. My intention was to go by Boeotia; but the servant, which I brought with me, has run away; so that I am now on the road to Corinth, with an expectation of meeting with him there. So then, said Diogenes, with his customary purpose of instruction; you are going, most ridiculous mortal!

E

to hold intercourse with a God, who were unable to maintain your intercourse with a slave. Can you expect, then, with this inability of address, less difficulty and danger in your projected communication, than in your former? And with what view are you searching for the lad? Was he not worthless? To the last degrec, replied the man: for, without any injury kindfrom me, or rather after receiving many nesses, he thought ill of me; had he thought well, he would not have left me; doubtless, Diogenes! from a depraved disposition. So then, continued Diogenes, he thought ill of you, and ran away, that you might not treat him harshly and will you seek him, when you think him worthless? For it is plain, that you are exposing yourself voluntarily to his ill-treatment. Are not vicious men hurtful to those, who entertain and employ them, whether they be Phrygians (a) or Athenians, whether slaves or free? Now no man looks after a good-for-nothing dog, if he run away; but even drives him out, if he return: yet, should he get rid of a worthless fellow, he cannot rest contented, but must give himself infinite trouble by writing to friends, taking journies, and spending money, to recover him. Now which, do you suppose, have occasioned more mischief? vicious dogs, or vieious men? Undoubtedly we are told of a ingle man, Acteon, who was destroyed by