without intending to justify the conduct of Aristopha- | ancient raillery, according to Father Brumoi, is eva nes, which is certainly inexcusable, I think, to judge properly of it, it would be necessary to lay aside the prejudices of birth, nations, and times, and to imagine we live in those remote ages, in a state purely demo'cratical. We must not fancy Aristophanes to have been a person of little consequence in his republic, as the comic writers generally are in our days. The king of Persia had a very different idea of him. It is a known story, that in audience of the Greek ambassadors, his first inquiry was after a certain comic poet (meaning Aristophanes,) that put all Grecce in motion, and gave such effectual counsels against him. Aristophanes did that upon the stage, which Demosthenes did afterward in the public assemblies. The poet's reproaches were no less animated than the orator's. In his comedies he uttered the same sentiments as he had a right to deliver from the public rostrum. They were addressed to the same people, upon the same occasions of the state, the same means of success, and the same obstacles to their measures. In Athens, the whole people were the sovereign, and each of them had an equal share in the supreme authority. Upon this they were continually intent, were fond of discoursing upon it themselves, and of hearing the sentiments of others. The public affairs were the business of every individual; on which they were desirous of being fully informed, that they might know how to conduct themselves on every occasion of war or peace, which frequently offered, and to decide upon their own, as well as upon the destiny of their allies or enemies. Hence rose the liberty taken by the comic poets, of discussing affairs of the state in their performances. The people were so far from being offended at it, or at the manner in which those writers treated the principal persons of the state, that they conceived their liberty in some measure to consist in it. Three poets particularly excelled in the old comedy; Eupolis, Cratinus, and Aristophanes. The last is the only one of them whose pieces have come down to us entire; and out of the great number which he composed, eleven are all that remain. He flourished in an age when Greece abounded with great men, and was contemporary with Socrates and Euripides, whom he survived. During the Peloponnesian war, he made his greatest figure; less as a writer to amuse the people with his comedies, than as censor of the government, retained to reform the state, and to be almost the arbiter of his country. porated through length of time, and what remains of it is become flat and insipid to us; though the sharpest part will retain its vigour throughout all ages. Two considerable defects are justly imputed to this poet, which very much obscure if not entirely efface, his glory. These are, low buffoonery, and gross obscenity; and it has in vain been attempted to offer, in excuse for the first of these faults, the character of his audience; the bulk of which generally consisted of the poor, the ignorant, and dregs of the people, whom, however, it was as necessary to please, as the learned and the rich. The depraved taste of the lower order of people, which once banished Cratinus and his company, because his scenes were not grossly comic enough for them, is no excuse for Aristophanes, as Menander could find out the art of changing that grovelling taste, by introducing a species of comedy, not altogether so modest as Plutarch seems to insinuate, yet much less licentious than any before his time. The gross obscenities with which all Aristophanes's comedies abound, have no excuse; they only denote to what a pitch the libertinism of the spectators, and the depravity of the poet, had proceeded. Had he even impregnated them with the utmost wit-which however is not the case-the privilege of laughing himself, or of making others laugh, would have been too dearly purchased at the expense of decency and good manners. And in this case it may well be said, that it were better to have no wit at all, than to make so ill a use of it. F. Brumoi is very much to be commended for having taken care, in giving a general idea of Aristophanes's writings, to throw a veil over those parts of them that might have given offence to modesty. Though such behaviour be the indispensable rule of religion, it is not always observed by those who pique themselves most on their erudition, and sometimes prefer the title of Scholar to that of Christian. The old comedy subsisted till Lysander's time, who, upon having made himself master of Athens, changed the form of the government, and put it into the hands of thirty of the principal citizens. The satirical liberty of the theatre was offensive to them, and therefore they thought fit to put a stop to it. The reason of this alteration is evident, and confirms the reflection made before upon the privilege which the poets possessed of criticising with impunity the persons at the head of the state. The whole authority of Athens was then invested in tyrants. The democracy was abolished. The people had no longer any share in the government. They were no more the prince; their sovereignty had expired. The right of giving their opinions and suffrages upon affairs of state was at an end; nor dared they, either in their own persons or by the poets, presume to censure the sentiments and conduct of their masters. The calling persons by their names upon the stage was prohibited; but poetical ill-nature soon found the secret of eluding the intention of the law, and of making itself amends for the restraint which was imposed upon it by the necessity of using feigned names. It then applied itself to discover what was ridiculous in known characters, which it copied to the life, and from thence acquired the double advantage of gratifying the vanity of the poets, and the malice of the audience, in a more reHor. Sat. iv. 1. i. fined manner: the one had the delicate pleasure of He is admired for an elegance, poignancy, and happiness of expression, or, in a word, that Attic salt and spirit, to which the Roman language could never attain, and for which Aristophanes is more remarkable than any other of the Greek authors. His particular excellence was raillery. None ever touched what was ridiculous in the characters whom he wished to expose with such success, or knew better how to convey it in all its full force to others. But it would be necessary to have lived in his times, to be qualified to judge of this. The subtle salt and spirit of the 1 Aristoph. in Acharn. . Eupolis, atque Cratinus, Aristophanesque poetæ, With Aristophanes' satiric rage, putting the spectators upon guessing their meaning, and the other of not being mistaken in their suppositions, and of affixing the right name to the characters represented. Such was the Comedy, since called the Middle Comedy, of which there are some instances in Aristophanes. Nimium risûs pretium est, si probitatis impendio constat.-Quintil. lib. vi. c. 3. Non pejus duxerim tardi ingenii esse, quàm mali.Quintil. lib. i. c. 3. It continued till the time of Alexander the Great, who having entirely assured himself of the empire of Greece by the defeat of the Thebans, caused a check to be put upon the licentiousness of the poets, which increased daily. From thence the New Comedy took its birth, which was only an imitation of private life, and brought nothing upon the stage but feigned names, and fictitious adventures. Chacun peint avec art dans ce nouveau miroir, Boileau, Art. Poet. chant. ill. This may properly be called fine comedy, and is that of Menander. Of one hundred and eighty, or rather eighty plays, according to Suidas, composed by him, all of which Terence is said to have translated, there remain only a few fragments. We may form a just judgment of the merit of the originals from the excellence of the copy. Quintilian, in speaking of Menander, is not afraid to say, that with the beauty of his works, and the height of his reputation, he obscured, or rather obliterated, the fame of all other writers in the same way. He observes, in another passage, that his own times were not so just to his merit as they ought to have been, which has been the fate of many others; but that he was sufficiently made amends by the favourable opinion of posterity. And indeed Philemon, a comic poet, who flourished about the same period, though older than Menander, was preferred before him. The Theatre of the Ancients described. I have already observed, that Eschylus was the first founder of a fixed and durable theatre, adorned with suitable decorations. It was at first, as well as the amphitheatres, composed of wooden planks, the seats in which rose one above another; but those having one day broke down, by having too great a weight upon them, the Athenians, excessively enamoured of dramatic representations, were induced by that accident to erect those superb structures, which were imitated afterwards with so much splendour by the Roman magnificence. What I shall say of them has almost as much relation to the Roman as the Athenian theatres; and is extracted entirely from M. Boindin's learned dissertation upon the theatre of the ancients, who has treated the subject in its fullest extent. The theatre of the ancients was divided into three principal parts; each of which had its peculiar appellation. The division for the actors was called in general the scene, or stage; that for the spectators was particularly termed the theatre, which must have been of vast extent, as at Athens it was capable of containing above thirty thousand persons; and the orchestra, which amongst the Greeks was the place assigned for the pantomimes and dancers, though at Rome it was appropriated to the senators and vestal virgins. The theatre was of a semicircular form on one side, and square on the other. The space contained within the semicircle, was allotted to the spectators, and had seats placed one above another to the top of the building. The square part in the front of it, was appropriated to the actors; and in the interval, between both, was the orchestra. The great theatres had three rows of porticoes, -aised one above another, which formed the body of 1 Atque ille quidem omnibus ejusdem operis auctoribus abstulit nomen, et fulgore quodam suæ claritatis tenebras obduxit.-Quintil. lib. x. c. 1. Quidam, sicut Menander, justiora posterorum, quam suæ ætatis, judicia sunt consecuti.-Quintil. lib. iii. c. 6. Memoirs of the Acad. of Inscript. &c. vol. i. p. 136, &c. Strab. I. ix. p. 395. Herod. 1. viii. c. 65. VOL. 1.-52 the edifice, and at the same time three different stories for the seats. From the highest of those porticoes the women saw the representation, sheltered from the weather. The rest of the theatre was uncovered, and all the business of the stage was performed in the open air. Each of these stories consisted of nine rows of seats, including the landing-place, which divided them from each other, and served as a passage from side to side. But as this landing-place and passage took up the space of two benches, there were only seven to sít upon, and consequently in each story there were seven rows of seats. They were from fifteen to eighteen inches in height, and twice as much in breadth; so that the spectators had room to sit at their ease, and without being incommoded by the legs of the people above them, no foot-boards being provided for them. Each of these stories of benches were divided in two different manners; in their height by the landingplaces, called by the Romans Pracinctiones, and in their circumferences by several stair-cases, peculiar to each story, which intersecting them in right lines, tending towards the centre of the theatre, gave the form of wedges to the quantity of seats between them, from whence they were called Cunei. Behind these stories of seats were covered galleries, through which the people thronged into the theatre by great square openings, contrived for that purwere called Vomitoria, from the multitude of people pose in the walls next the seats. Those openings crowding through them into their places. As the actors could not be heard to the extremity of the theatre, the Greeks contrived a means to supply that defect, and to augment the force of the voice, and make it more distinct and articulate. For that purpose they invented a kind of large vessels of copper, which were disposed under the seats of the theatre, in such a manner, as made all sounds strike upon the ear with more force and distinctness. The orchestra being situated, as I have observed, between the two other parts of the theatre, of which one was circular and the other square, it participated of the form of each, and occupied the space between both. It was divided into three parts. The first and most considerable was more particularly called the orchestra, from a Greek words that signifies to dance. It was appropriated to the pantomimes and dancers, and to all such subaltern actors as played between the acts, and at the end of the representations. The second was named Ovun, from its being square, in the form of an altar. Here the chorus was generally placed. And in the third, the Greeks disposed their band of music. They called it brookvov, from its being situ ate at the bottom of the principal part of the theatre, to which they gave the general name of the scene. I shall describe here this third part of the theatre, called the scene; which was also subdivided into three different parts. The first and most considerable was properly called the scene, and gave its name to this whole division. It occupied the whole front of the building from side to side, and was the place allotted for the decorations, This front had two small wings at its extremity, from which hung a large curtain, that was let down to open the scene, and drawn up between the acts, when any thing in the representation made it necessary. The second called by the Greeks indifferently προσκήνιον, and λογεῖον, and by the Romans Proscenium, and Pulpitum, was a large open space in front of the scene, in which the actors performed their parts, and which, by the help of the decorations, represented either a public square or forum, a common street, or the country; but the place so represented was always in the open air. The third division was a part reserved behind the • Ορχεῖσθαι. scenes, and called by the Greeks Tapaokhviov. Here the actors dressed themselves, and the decorations were locked up. In the same place were also kept the machines, of which the ancients had abundance in their theatres. "Tis our unhappiness has made thee great ;6 and then addressing the people; The time shall come when you shall late deplore the spectators obliged the actor to repeat these verses Fondness for Theatrical Representations one of the principal Causes of the Decline, Degeneracy, and Corrup tion of the Athenian State. As only the porticoes and the building of the scene were roofed, it was necessary to draw sails, fastened with cords to masts, over the rest of the theatre, to screen the audience from the heat of the sun. But as this contrivance did not prevent the heat, occasioned by the perspiration and breath of so numerous an as- When we compare the happy times of Greece, in sembly, the ancients took care to allay it by a kind of which Europe and Asia resounded with nothing but rain; conveying the water for that use above the por- the fame of the Athenian victories, with the latter ticoes, which falling again in form of dew through an ages, when the power of Philip and Alexander the infinity of small pores concealed in the statues, with Great had in a manner reduced it to slavery, we shall which the theatre abounded, did not only diffuse a be surprised at the strange alteration in that republic. grateful coolness all around, but the most fragrant But what is most material, is the investigation of the exhalations along with it; for this dew was always causes and progress of this declension: and these M. perfumed. Whenever the representations were inter-de Tourreil has discussed in an admirable manner in rupted by storms, the spectators Petired into the porti- the elegant preface to his translation of Demosthenes' coes behind the seats of the theatre. Orations. There were no longer, he observes, at Athens, any traces of that manly and vigorous policy, equally capable of planning good and retrieving bad success. Instead of that, there remained only an inconsistent loftiness, apt to evaporate in pompous decrees. They were no more those Athenians, who, when menaced by a deluge of Barbarians, demolished their houses to build ships with the timber, and whose women stoned the abject wretch to death that proposed to appease the great king by tribute or homage. The love of ease and pleasure had almost entirely extinguished that of glory, liberty, and independence. The fondness of the Athenians for representations of this kind cannot be expressed. Their eyes, their ears, their imagination, their understanding all shared in the satisfaction. Nothing gave them so sensible a pleasure in dramatic performances, either tragic or comic, as the strokes which were aimed at the affairs of the public; whether pure chance occasioned the application, or the address of the poets, who knew how to reconcile the most remote subjects with the transactions of the republic. They entered by that means into the interests of the people, took occasion to soothe their passion, authorise their pretensions, justify, and sometimes condemn, their conduct, enPericles, that great man, so absolute, that those tertain them with agreeable hopes, instruct them in who envied him treated him as a second Pisistratus, their duty in certain nice conjunctures; in conse- was the first author of this degeneracy and corruption. quence of which they often not only acquired the ap- With the design of conciliating the favour of the peoplauses of the spectators, but credit and influence in ple, he ordained that upon such days as games or the public affairs and counsels: hence the theatre be- sacrifices were celebrated, a certain number of oboli came so grateful, and so interesting to the people. It should be distributed amongst them; and that in the was in this manner, according to some authors, that assemblies in which affairs of state were to be disEuripides artfully adapted his tragedy of Palamedes cussed, every individual should receive a certain to the sentence passed against Socrates; and pointed pecuniary gratification in right of being present. out, by an illustrious example of antiquity, the inno-Thus the members of the republic were seen for the cence of a philosopher, oppressed by malignity supported by power and faction. Accident was often the occasion of sudden and unforeseen applications, which from their appositeness were very agreeable to the people. Upon this verse of Eschylus, in praise of Amphiaraus, -"Tis his desire, Not to appear, but be the great and good the whole audience rose up, and unanimously applied -He comes, to whom we owe All the Greeks cast their eyes upon Philopomen, In the same manner at Rome, during the banishment of Cicero, when some verses of Accius, which reproached the Greeks with their ingratitude in suffering the banishment of Telamon, were repeated by Æsop, the best actor of his time, they drew tears from the eyes of the whole assembly. Upon another, though very different occasion, the Roman people applied to Pompey the Great, some verses to this effect: It is not certain whether this piece was prior or pos terior to the death of Socrates. 2 Plut. in Aristid. p. 320. Plut. in Philopom. p. 362. Cic. in Orat. pro Sext. n. 120, 123. O ingratifici Argivi, inanes Grali, immemores beneficii, first time to sell their care in the administration of the government, and to rank amongst servile employments the most noble functions of the sovereign power. A It was not difficult to foresee where so excessive an abuse would end: and, to remedy it, it was proposed to establish a fund for the support of the war, and to make it a capital crime to advise, upon any account whatsoever, the application of it to other uses: but, notwithstanding, the abuse always subsisted. first it seemed tolerable, whilst the citizen, who was supported at the public expense, endeavoured to deserve it by doing his duty in the field for nine months together. Every one was to serve in his turn, and whoever failed was treated as a deserter without distinction: but at length the number of the transgressors carried it against the law; and impunity, as it commonly happens, multiplied their number. People accustomed to the delightful abode of a city, where feasts and games were perpetually taking place, conceived an invincible repugnance for labour and fatigue, which they looked upon as unworthy of freeborn men. It was therefore necessary to find amusement for this indolent people, to fill up the great void of an inactive, useless life. Hence arose principally their fondness, or rather frenzy, for public show. The death of Epaminondas, which seemed to promise them the greatest advantage, gave the final stroke to their ruin and destruction. "Their courage," says Justin," "did not survive that illustrious Theban. Freed from a rival, who kept their emulation alive, they sunk into a Cic. ad Attic. 1. ii. Epist. 19. Val. Max. 1. vi. c. 2. * Justin. l. vi. c. 9. lethargic sloth and effeminacy. The funds for arma- Miltiades preserved its liberty; and that the moderate ments by land and sea were soon lavished upon games conduct of Cimon acquired it the empire and governand feasts. The seaman's and soldier's pay was dis- ment of all Greece. If the wise and learned poetry of tributed to the idle citizen. An indolent and luxurious Euripides, the sublime diction of Sophocles, the lofty mode of life enervated every breast. The representa- buskin of Eschylus, have obtained equal advantages tions of the theatre were preferred to the exercises of for the city of Athens, by delivering it from impending the camp. Valour and military knowledge were en- calamities, or by adding to its glory, I am willing (he tirely disregarded. Great captains were in no estima- goes on) that dramatic pieces should be placed in comtion; whilst good poets and excellent comedians en- petition with trophies of victory, the poetic theatre grossed the universal applause." with the field of battle, and the compositions of the Extravagance of this kind makes it easy to compre-poets with the great exploits of the generals. But hend in what multitudes the people thronged to the what a comparison would this be? On the one side dramatic performances. As no expense was spared would be seen a few writers, crowned with wreaths of in embellishing them, exorbitant sums were sunk in ivy, and dragging a goat or an ox after them, the rethe service of the theatre. "If," says Plutarch, "an wards and victims assigned them for excelling in tragic accurate calculation were to be made, what each repre- poetry: on the other, a train of illustrious captains, sentation of the dramatic pieces cost the Athenians, it surrounded by the colonies, which they founded, the would appear, that their expenses in playing the Bac- cities which they captured, and the nations which they chanalians, the Phoenicians, Edipus, Antigone, Me- subjected. It is not to perpetuate the victories of dea, and Electra (tragedies written either by Sophocles Eschylus and Sophocles, but in remembrance of the or Euripides,) were greater than those which had been glorious battles of Marathon, Salamis, Eurymedon, employed against the Barbarians in defence of the lib- and many others, that so many feasts are celebrated erty, and for the preservation of Greece. This gave every month with such pomp by the Grecians. a Spartan just reason to exclaim, on seeing an estimate of the enormous sums laid out in these contests of the tragic poets, and the extraordinary pains taken by the magistrates who presided in them, "that a people must be void of sense to apply themselves in so warm and serious a manner to things so frivolous. For," added he, "games should be only games; and nothing is more unreasonable than to purchase a short and trivial amusement at so great a price. Pleasures of this kind agree only with public rejoicings and seasons of festivity, and were designed to divert people at their leisure hours; but should by no means interfere with the affairs of the public, nor the necessary expenses of the government." After all, says Plutarch, in the passage which I have already cited, of what utility have these tragedies been to Athens, though so much boasted by the people, and admired by the rest of the world? I find that the prudence of Themistocles enclosed the city with strong walls; that the fine taste and magnificence of Pericles improved and adorned it: that the noble fortitude of Plut. de glor. Athen. p. 349. 2 Plut. Sympos. 1. vii. quest. vii. p. 710. The inference which Plutarch draws from hence, in which we ought to agree with him, is, that it was the highest imprudence in the Athenians thus to prefer pleasure to duty, fondness for the theatre to the love of their country, trivial shows to application to public business, and to consume in useless expenses and dramatic entertainments, the funds intended for the support of fleets and armies. Macedon, till then obscure and inconsiderable, well knew how to take advantage of the Athenian indolence and effeminacy; and Philip, instructed by the Greeks themselves, amongst whom he had for several years applied himself successfully to the art of war, was not long before he gave Greece a master, and subjected it to the yoke, as we shall see in the sequel. παιδιὰν καταναλίσκοντες, τουτέστι μεγάλων ἀποστόλων δαπάνας Quibus rebus effectum est, ut inter otia Græcorum, sordidum et obscurum antea Macedonum nomen emer geret; et Philippus, obses triennio Thebis habitus, Epa minondæ et Pelopidæ virtutibus eruditus, regnum Macedoniæ, Greci et Asia cervicibus, velut jugum servitutis, imponeret. Just. 1. vi. c. 9. THE HISTORY OF DIONYSIUS THE ELDER AND YOUNGER, TYRANTS OF SYRACUSE, BOOK XI. SIXTY years had elapsed since Syracuse had regained its liberty by the expulsion of the family of Gelon. The events which passed during that interval in Sicily, except the invasion of the Athenians, are of no great importance, and little known; but those which follow are highly interesting, and make amends for the chasm: I mean the reigns of Dionysius the father and son, tyrants of Syracuse; the first of whom governed thirty-eight years, and the other twelve,' in all fifty | years. amidst his subjects as a father with his children. Though he knows that the sword of justice is in his hands, he dreads to make use of it. He loves to turn aside its edge, and can never resolve to evince his power, but with extreme reluctance, in the last extremity, and with all the forms and sanction of the laws. But a tyrant punishes only from caprice and passion; and believes, says Plutarch, speaking of Dionysius, that he is not really master, and does not act with supreme authority, but in proportion as he sets himself above all laws, acknowledges no other than his own will and pleasure, and sees himself obeyed implicitly. Whereas, continues the same author, he that can do whatever he will, is in great danger of willing what he ought not. Besides these characteristics of cruelty and tyranny, which particularly distinguish the first Dionysius, we shall see in his history, whatever unbounded ambition, sustained by great valour, extensive abilities, and talents qualified for acquiring the confidence of a people, is capable of undertaking for the attainment' of sovereignty; the various means which he had the address to employ for maintaining himself in it against the opposition of his enemies, and the odium of the public; and, lastly, the tyrant's good fortune in escaping, during a reign of thirty-eight years, the many conspiracies formed against him, and in transmitting peaceably the tyranny to his son, as a legitimate possession, and an hereditary right. This history will present to our view a series of the most odious and horrid crimes, though it abounds at the same time with instruction.-When on the one side we behold a prince, the declared enemy of liberty, justice, and laws, treading under his feet the most sacred rights of nature and religion, inflicting the most cruel torments upon his subjects, beheading some, burning others for a slight word, delighting and feasting himself with human blood, and gratifying his inhuman cruelty with the sufferings and miseries of every age and condition: I say, when we behold such an object, can we deny a truth, which the Pagan world itself hath confessed, and which Plutarch takes occasion to observe in speaking of the tyrants of Sicily: That God in his anger gives such princes to a people, and makes use of the impious and the wicked to punish the guilty and the criminal. On the other side, when the same prince, the dread and terror of Syracuse, is perpetually anxious and trembling for his own life, and abandoned by day and night to remorse and regret, can find no person in his whole state, not even his wives and children, in whom he can confide; who will not exclaim with Tacitus, "That it is not without reason the oracle of wisdom has declared, That if SECTION I.-MEANS MADE USE OF BY DIONYSIUS the hearts of tyrants could be seen, we should find them torn in pieces with a thousand evils; it being certain, that the body does not suffer more from stripes and torments, than the minds of such wretches from their crimes, cruelties, and the injustice and violence of their proceedings." The condition of a good prince is quite different. He loves his people, and is beloved by them; he enjoys a perfect tranquillity within himself, and lives 1 After having been expelled for more than ten years, he re-ascended the throne, and reigned two or three years. Erit Dionysius illic tyrannus, libertatis, justitiæ, legum exitium-Alios uret, alios verberabit, alios ob levem offensam jubebit detruncari.-Senec. de Consol. ad Marc. c. xvii. Sanguine humano non tantùm gaudet, sed pascitur; sed et suppliciis omnium ætatum crudelitatem insatiabilem explet.-Id. de Benef. 1. vii. c. 19. Neque frustrà præstantissimus sapientiæ firmare solitus est, si recludantur tyrannorum mentes, posse aspici laniatus et ictus ; quando, ut corpora verberibus, ita savitia, libidine, malis consultis, animus dilaceraretur. Tacit. Anmal. 1. vi. c. 6. CHAPTER I. THE ELDER, TO POSSESS HIMSELF OF THE TYRANNY, DIONYSIUS was a native of Syracuse, of noble and illustrious extraction according to some, but others say his birth was base and obscure. Be this as it may, he distinguished himself by his valour, and acquired great reputation in the war with the Carthaginians. He was one of those who accompanied Hermocrates, when he attempted to re-enter Syracuse by force of arms, after having been banished through the intrigues Hæc est in maximâ potestate verissima animi temperantia, non cupiditate aliquâ non temeritate incendi; non priorum principum exemplis corruptum, quantum in cives suos liceat, experiendo tentare; sed hebetare aciem imperii sui. Quid interest inter tyrannum et regem (species enim ipsa fortune ac licentia par est,) nisi quod tyranni in volup tate sæviunt, reges non nisi ex causâ et necessitate?Senec. de Clem. lib. i. c. 11. Ἔφη ἀπολαύειν μάλιστα τῆς ἀρχῆς, ὅταν ταχέως ἃ βούλε και ποιῇ· μέγας οὖν δ' κίνδυνος βούλεσθαι ἃ μὴ δεῖ, τὸν ἃ βού 782. Xeral Toiεiv dvváμevov. Ad Princ. indoct. p. Diod. I. xiii. p. 197. |