two statues, a cubit in height; the one representing war, the other peace, having a golden eagle between them, with wings extended, as ready to take its flight. But nothing could equal the magnificence of the king. He was clothed in a vest of purple, striped with silver, and over it a long robe glittering all over with gold and precious stones, that represented two falcons rushing from the clouds and pecking at one another. Around his waist he wore a golden girdle, after the manner of women, whence his scymitar hung, the scabbard of which flamed all over with gems. On his head he wore a tiara, or mitre, round which was a fillet of blue, mixed with white. On each side of him walked two hundred of his nearest relations, followed by ten thousand slaves and pikemen, whose pikes were adorned with silver, and tipped with gold; and, lastly, thirty thousand infantry, who composed the rear guard: these were followed by the king's horses (four hundred in number) all which were led. About one hundred, or an hundred and twenty paces from them, came Sysigambis, Darius' mother; seated on a chariot, and his consort on another, with the several female attendants of both queens riding on horseback. Afterwards came fifteen large chariots, in which were the king's children, and those who had the care of their education, with a band of eunuchs, who are to this day in great esteem with those nations. Then marched the concubines, to the number of three hundred and sixty, in the equipage of queens, followed by six hundred mules, and three hundred camels, which carried the king's treasure, and were guarded by a great body of archers. After these came the wives of the crown-officers, and of the greatest lords of the court; then the sutlers and servants of the army, seated also in chariots. In the rear were a body of light-armed troops, with their commanders, who closed the whole.

Would not any one believe that this was the description of a tournament rather than the march of an army? Can it be imagined that princes possessed of the least reason would have been so stupid as to incorporate with their forces so cumbersome a train of women, princesses, oncubines, and domestics of both sexes. But Darius, at the head of six hundred thousand men, and surround

ed with this mighty pomp, prepared for himself only, fancied he was great, and rose in the idea he had formed of himself; yet should we reduce him to his just proportion, and his personal worth, how little would he appear!

Q. CURT. ROLL. ANT. HIST. lib. vii. p. 145.

PLATO was descended from an ancient and illustrious family, possessed of a considerable estate, and universally admired as the profoundest scholar of his age; but neither his birth, fortune, wisdom, nor learning, could protect him from the resentments of Dionysius, tyrant of Syracuse, for being a little too free with him. Dionysius, being charmed with the character of Plato the Divine, for so he was generally stiled, expressed a great inclination to have some conversation with him. The philosopher, then about forty years of age, paid the tyrant a visit. The liberty however which he took in discoursing on the subject of tyranny, and the arguments he used to persuade the king to divest himself of his despotic power, had like to have cost him dear; his death, in all probability, would have proved the consequence, had not his friends Dion and Aristomenes pleaded hard in his behalf. Though the tyrant, indeed, through their intercession, spared his life, yet he showed his resentment so far, that he delivered him up to one Polides, a Lacedemonian ambassador, at that time resident at Dionysius' court, with express orders for his being sold as a slave. This ambassador soon after transported him to Ægina, and there executed the tyrant's commission. Very happy it was for poor Plato that one Auniceres, a native of Cyrene, happened at that time to be in the island. This person paid down the sum demanded for the philosopher and took the first opportunity of sending him back to Athens, and restoring him to his friends.

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Dionysius being informed that Plato was once more at Athens in a state of freedom, contrary to his expectation, was under some apprehension that Plato would study some way or other to revenge the insult and indignity offered him. He wrote therefore a very complai sant letter to him, wherein he, in effect, though not in

direct terms, desired he would excuse the treatment he had met with, and insinuated it was with pleasure he heard of his residing again among his friends. Plato sent a very cold answer to the tyrant, which was to this effect, viz. That he need not give himself any great concern about what had passed; for his thoughts were so much taken up with the charms of philosophy, that he had no time to spare in the gratification of any private

resentment.

MARTIN'S LIVES, &C.

FRIENDSHIP.

SENTIMENTS.

WITHOUT friendship life has no charm. The only things which can render friendship sure and lasting are, virtue, purity of manners, an elevated soul, and a perfect integrity of heart.*

It is highly proper that we should distinguish the friend from the companion. A conformity of taste for pleasure, and for any thing besides virtue, may constitute a club, but cannot make a society of friends. That table-companion, who, while he holds his glass, seems to glow with such cordial friendship, if trusted with a secret on which even your honour depends, will thence take occasion to be merry at your expense, and you will soon, by his means, be rallied, abused, and affronted: deliver up your interest to him, he will sacrifice it to his own. After this you complain that you have been betrayed by a friend; when it was only by a man who frequently eat and drank with you, and joined in the same diversions.

Neither should we confound the relation with the friend. We are connected with the first by necessary ties, which reach not the heart; while the other is united to us by the stronger chain of a voluntary engagement, the effect of a perfect sympathy. It is a free and deli

berate choice which conciliates friends; but relations are derived from nature.

Gratitude itself is not friendship. We are affected with the generosity of our benefactor; we take a pleasure in letting him see that we are sensible of our obligations; and we ardently desire to have the power of proving this by real services: yet at the same time, it is possible that we may be far from liking either his temper, his character, or his conduct.

Friendship is a disinterested affection, founded only on esteem, and of all the passions most nearly resembles love; nor is there the least difference, if we suppose this last independent of the sex of the person beloved. If Platonic love is not a mere chimera, it is nothing else but friendship, which is neither increased nor diminished by the difference of sex of the two friends.

The first rule in the choice of a friend, is not to love him before you know him. Almost at first sight we may know if a man be of quick or slow parts, if he be gay or serious, clownish or polite, talkative or reserved, witty or stupid; we see almost all this in his eyes, in his attitude, in his gestures, and in his discourse: but we cannot so easily discover whether he has virtue and probity. It requires more time to be certain with regard to this point; and till we are as well assured of it, as it is possible for us to be, we ought not prodigally to bestow upon him, from equivocal appearances the precious title of friend. Are we at last convinced that he deserves it, then there must be no reserve; we ought to enter with him into an intercourse of sentiments, of tastes, pleasures, and interests.

Friendship is a kind of marriage, which establishes between two friends a mutual intimacy and perfect correspondence.

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The next rule, which is not less important, to choose him only from the society of the good and virtuous. The most long-lived plants are not those that grow the fastest thus it is with friendship: that is commonly the most firm and durable which grows up but slowly; while that which is hastily contracted is more liable to be dissolved. Lovers of virtue should have none but virtuous men, for their friends: and on this point the proof

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ought principally to turn; because where there is no virtue there is no security that our honour, confidence, and friendship will not be betrayed and abused. neral, they suffer most from pretended friendship who least deserve to suffer. It is very rare for the honest heart to prove distrustful; and more rare still for him not to be deceived, who is a stranger to suspicion. There are men of a character so open and generous, that there is no one but would be a gainer by making them their friends; but when these contract a friendship they risk more than others: for so many advantages arise from aspiring after their esteem, that they can never be cer tain that it is not courted with a view to interest and a self-interested friend is never a true one. It is to those upright and sincere hearts that I especially direct my counsels on friendship; for what matters it if deceivers are deceived?

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The necessary advantages of friendship are confidence and benevolence. The purse and the heart ought to be open to a friend; and in no case can we shut them, except in such as will justify our having no longer any regard for him. And, indeed, we run no hazard in trusting to a well chosen friend, either our secret or our strong box; for we are certain that he will use them both with discretion.

Confidence produces two effects the one is such a perfect reliance on the prudence, the probity, the constancy, and affection of the person beloved, as prevents every injurious suspicion: the other effect, which is indeed a natural consequence of such a reliance, is that openness and unreserve with which two friends disclose their most intimate sentiments, their thoughts, their projects, and, in a word, every thing in which either the one or the other may appear concerned; and this frequently extends even to trifles; because, between friends, trifles themselves become interesting.

Nothing ought to be concealed but the secrets of another friend.

As to the benevolence which friendship inspires, it also produces two effects; indulgence and good offices.

Such faults only as are inconsistent with the sincerity of friendship, ought to be unpardonable: overlook in