the following among them. We all know that in the generality of states every one devotes his full energy to the business of making money: one man as a tiller of the soil, another as a mariner, a third as a merchant, whilst others depend on various arts to earn a living. But at Sparta Lycurgus forbade his freeborn citizens to have anything whatsoever to do with the concerns of money-making. As freemen, he enjoined upon them to regard as their concern exclusively those activities upon which the foundations of civic liberty are based.
And indeed, one may well ask, for what reason should wealth be regarded as a matter for serious pursuit[1] in a community where, partly by a system of equal contributions to the necessaries of life, and partly by the maintenance of a common standard of living, the lawgiver placed so effectual a check upon the desire of riches for the sake of luxury? What inducement, for instance, would there be to make money, even for the sake of wearing apparel, in a state where personal adornment is held to lie not in the costliness of the clothes they wear, but in the healthy condition of the body to be clothed? Nor again could there be much inducement to amass wealth, in order to be able to expend it on the members of a common mess, where the legislator had made it seem far more glorious that a man should help his fellows by the labour of his body than by costly outlay. The latter being, as he finely phrased it, the function of wealth, the former an activity of the soul.
[1] See Plut. 'Lycurg.' 10 (Clough, i. 96).
He went a step further, and set up a strong barrier (even in a society such as I have described) against the pursuance of money-making by wrongful means.[2] In the first place, he established a coinage[3] of so extraordinary a sort, that even a single sum of ten minas[4] could not come into a house without attracting the notice, either of the master himself, or of some member of his household. In fact, it would occupy a considerable space, and need a waggon to carry it. Gold and silver themselves, moreover, are liable to search,[5] and in case of detection, the possessor subjected to a penalty. In fact, to repeat the question asked above, for what reason should money-making become an earnest pursuit in a community where the possession of wealth entails more pain than its employment brings satisfaction?
[2] Or, 'against illegitimate commerce.'
[3] See Plut. 'Lycurg.' 9 (Clough, i. 94).
[4] = 40 pounds, circa.
[5] See Grote, 'H. G.' ix. 320; Aristot. 'Pol.' ii. 9, 37.
VIII
But to proceed. We are all aware that there is no state[1] in the world in which greater obedience is shown to magistrates, and to the laws themselves, than Sparta. But, for my part, I am disposed to think that Lycurgus could never have attempted to establish this healthy condition,[2] until he had first secured the unanimity of the most powerful members of the state. I infer this for the following reasons.[3] In other states the leaders in rank and influence do not even desire to be thought to fear the magistrates. Such a thing they would regard as in itself a symbol of servility. In Sparta, on the contrary, the stronger a man is the more readily does he bow before constituted authority. And indeed, they magnify themselves on their humility, and on a prompt obedience, running, or at any rate not crawling with laggard step, at the word of command. Such an example of eager discipline, they are persuaded, set by themselves, will not fail to be followed by the rest. And this is precisely what has taken place. It[4] is reasonable to suppose that it was these same noblest members of the state who combined[5] to lay the foundation of the ephorate, after they had come to the conclusion themselves, that of all the blessings which a state, or an army, or a household, can enjoy, obedience is the greatest. Since, as they could not but reason, the greater the power with which men fence about authority, the greater the fascination it will exercise upon the mind of the citizen, to the enforcement of obedience.
[1] See Grote, 'H. G.' v. 516; 'Mem.' III. v. 18.
[2] Or, reading after L. Dindorf, {eutaxian}, 'this world-renowned
orderliness.'
[3] Or, 'from these facts.'
[4] Or, 'It was only natural that these same . . .'
[5] Or, 'helped.' See Aristot. 'Pol.' v. 11, 3; ii. 9, 1 (Jowett, ii.
224); Plut. 'Lycurg.' 7, 29; Herod. i. 65; Muller, 'Dorians,' iii.
7, 5 (vol. ii. p. 125, Eng. tr.)
Accordingly the ephors are competent to punish whomsoever they choose; they have power to exact fines on the spur of the moment; they have power to depose magistrates in mid career[6]-nay, actually to imprison them and bring them to trial on the capital charge. Entrusted with these vast powers, they do not, as do the rest of states, allow the magistrates elected to exercise authority as they like, right through the year of office; but, in the style rather of despotic monarchs, or presidents of the games, at the first symptom of an offence against the law they inflict chastisement without warning and without hesitation.
[6] Or, 'before the expiration of their term of office.' See Plut.
'Agis,' 18 (Clough, iv. 464); Cic. 'de Leg.' iii. 7; 'de Rep.' ii.
33.
But of all the many beautiful contrivances invented by Lycurgus to kindle a willing obedience to the laws in the hearts of the citizens, none, to my mind, was happier or more excellent than his unwillingness to deliver his code to the people at large, until, attended by the most powerful members of the state, he had betaken himself to Delphi, [7] and there made inquiry of the god whether it were better for Sparta, and conducive to her interests, to obey the laws which he had framed. And not until the divine answer came: 'Better will it be in every way,' did he deliver them, laying it down as a last ordinance that to refuse obedience to a code which had the sanction of the Pythian god himself[8] was a thing not illegal only, but profane.
[7] See Plut. 'Lycurg.' 5, 6, 29 (Clough, i. 89, 122); Polyb. x. 2, 9.
[8] Or, 'a code delivered in Pytho, spoken by the god himself.'
IX
The following too may well excite our admiration for Lycurgus. I speak of the consummate skill with which he induced the whole state of Sparta to regard an honourable death as preferable to an ignoble life. And indeed if any one will investigate the matter, he will find that by comparison with those who make it a principle to retreat in face of danger, actually fewer of these Spartans die in battle, since, to speak truth, salvation, it would seem, attends on virtue far more frequently than on cowardice-virtue, which is at once easier and sweeter, richer in resource and stronger of arm,[1] than her opposite. And that virtue has another familiar attendant-to wit, glory-needs no showing, since the whole world would fain ally themselves after some sort in battle with the good.
[1] See Homer, 'Il.' v. 532; Tyrtaeus, 11, 14, {tressanton d' andron
pas' apolol arete}.
Yet the actual means by which he gave currency to these principles is a point which it were well not to overlook. It is clear that the lawgiver set himself deliberately to provide all the blessings of heaven for the good man, and a sorry and ill-starred existence for the coward.
In other states the man who shows himself base and cowardly wins to himself an evil reputation and the nickname of a coward, but that is all. For the rest he buys and sells in the same market-place as the good man; he sits beside him at play; he exercises with him in the same gymnasium, and all as suits his humour. But at Lacedaemon there is not one man who would not feel ashamed to welcome the coward at the common mess-tabe, or to try conclusions with such an antagonist in a wrestling bout. Consider the day's round of his existence. The sides are being picked up in a football match,[2] but he is left out as the odd man: there is no place for him. During the choric dance[3] he is driven away into ignominious quarters. Nay, in the very streets it is he who must step aside for others to pass, or, being seated, he must rise and make room, even for a younger man. At home he will have his maiden relatives to support in isolation (and they will hold him to blame for their unwedded lives).[4] A hearth with no wife to bless it -that is a condition he must face,[5] and yet he will have to pay damages to the last farthing for incurring it. Let him not roam abroad with a smooth and smiling countenance;[6] let him not imitate men whose fame is irreproachable, or he shall feel on his back the blows of his superiors. Such being the weight of infamy which is laid upon all cowards, I, for my part, am not surprised if in Sparta they deem death preferable to a life so steeped in dishonour and reproach.
[2] See Lucian, 'Anacharsis,' 38; Muller, 'Dorians,' (vol. ii. 309,
Eng. tr.)
