INTRODUCTION 
 
					Plutarch's discussion whether the Athenians were
					more famous in war or in wisdom, sometimes referred
					to by a briefer title. De Gloria Atheniensium , is an
					epideictic oration like the preceding essays; we may
					perhaps infer from the words (345 f), This city has
						been the mother and kindly nurse of many other
						arts, that it was delivered at Athens. Like the
					preceding essays, it closes abruptly, and again we do
					not know the reason therefor.
				 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson, in his introduction to the
					translation of Plutarch revised by Goodwin, says,
					 The vigor of his pen appears in the chapter
						‘Whether the Athenians were more Warlike or
						Learned...’ It is strange that this vigour
					should be devoted to glorifying the men of arms
					and vilifying the men of letters, and yet this is
					precisely what Plutarch attempts to do in this essay.
					It is true that he lived in an era of profound peace,
					when the horrors of war were remote, but it is
					somewhat surprising to find him arguing for this
					thesis, especially since he shows by incidental statements that he is thoroughly aware of the contributions
					that Athens has made to literature. We may, then,
					be justified in the inference that the essay is a tour
					de force , like other rhetorical discussions which were
					
					 
					
					popular in Plutarch's day; it does not necessarily
					represent his own belief.
				 
 Many of the historical references will be found in
					an amplified form in the Lives .
				 
 The essay is no. 197 in Lamprias's list of Plutarch's
					works where it bears the simpler title, In what
					were the Athenians famous? ( Κατὰ τί ἔνδοξοι Αθηναῖοι; ;).

...Thus rightly spoke the great Themistocles to
					the generals who succeeded him, for whom he had
					opened a way for their subsequent exploits by driving
					out the barbarian host and making Greece free. And
					rightly will it be spoken also to those who pride themselves on their writings; for if you take away the men
					of action, you will have no men of letters. Take away
					Pericles' statesmanship, and Phormio's trophies for
					his naval victories at Rhium, and Nicias's valiant deeds
					at Cythera and Megara and Corinth, Demosthenes'
					Pylos, and Cleon's four hundred captives, Tolmides'
					circumnavigation of the Peloponnesus, and Myronides' victory over the Boeotians at Oenophyta-take
					these away and Thucydides is stricken from your list
					of writers. Take away Alcibiades ' spirited exploits in
					the Hellespontine region, and those of Thrasyllus by
					Lesbos, and the overthrow by Theramenes of the
					oligarchy, Thrasybulus and Archinus and the uprising of the Seventy from Phyle against the Spartan
					hegemony, and Conon's restoration of Athens to her
					
					 
					
					power on the sea - take these away and Cratippus 
					is no more.
				 
 Xenophon, to be sure, became his own history
					by writing of his generalship and his successes and
					recording that it was Themistogenes the Syracusan
					who had compiled an account of them, his purpose
					being to win greater credence for his narrative by
					referring to himself in the third person, thus favouring another with the glory of the authorship. But
					all the other historians, men like Cleitodemus,
					Diyllus, Philochorus, Phylarchus, have been for
					the exploits of others what actors are for plays,
					exhibiting the deeds of the generals and kings, and
					merging themselves with their characters as tradition records them, in order that they might share
					in a certain effulgence, so to speak, and splendour.
					For there is reflected from the men of action upon
					the men of letters an image of another's glory,
					which shines again there, since the deed is seen,
					as in a mirror, through the agency of their words.

This city, as we all know, has been the mother
					and kindly nurse of many other arts, some of which
					she was the first to discover and reveal, while to others
					she gave added strength and honour and advancement;
					not least of all,painting was enhanced and embellished
					by her. For Apollodorus the painter, the first man
					to discover the art of mixing colours and chiaroscuro,
					was an Athenian. Upon his productions is inscribed:
					 It were easier that you blame than try to make the same. 
 
					
					 
					
					Euphranor, Nicias, Asclepiodorus, and Panaenus, the
					brother of Pheidias, some of them painted conquering
					generals, others battles, and still others the heroes
					of old. As, for example, Euphranor compared his
					own Theseus with that of Parrhasius, saying that
					Parrhasius's Theseus had fed on roses, but his on
					beef; for in truth Parrhasius's portrait has a certain
					delicacy and subtlety in its execution, and it does
					somewhat resemble Theseus; but someone, on seeing
					Euphranor's Theseus, exclaimed, not inaptly,
					 
 Race of the great-hearted hero Erechtheus, whom once
					Athena
					 
 Nurtured, the daughter of Zeus. 
 
 
				 
 Euphranor has painted also, not without some
					animation, the cavalry battle against Epameinondas
					at Mantineia. The action came about in this way: 
					Epameinondas the Theban, after the battle of
					Leuctra, was greatly elated, and conceived the desire
					to trample upon the prostrate Sparta, and grind her
					pride and self-esteem into the dust. And first he
					attacked with an army of seventy thousand, pillaged
					the Spartans' territory, and persuaded the Perioeci
					to revolt from them. Then he challenged to battle
					the forces that were drawn up in the vicinity of
					Mantineia; but when they did not wish or even dare
					to risk an engagement, but continued to await reinforcements from Athens, he broke camp by night
					and, without being observed by anybody, descended
					into Lacedaemon and almost succeeded, by a sudden
					
					 
					
					attack, in capturing and occupying the city, which was
					without defenders. But when the Spartan allies perceived this, and aid for the city quickly arrived, he retired as though he were again about totum to plundering and devastating the countryside. But when he
					had thus deceived his enemies and quieted their
					suspicions, he set forth by night from Laconia and,
					rapidly traversing the intervening territory, appeared
					to the Mantineans unexpectedly, while they also
					were engaged in discussing the right moment for
					sending aid to Sparta, and ordered the Thebans to
					arm straightway for the attack. Accordingly the
					Thebans, who took great pride in their skill at
					arms, advanced to the attack and encircled the
					city walls. There was consternation among the
					Mantineans, and shouting and running hither and
					thither, since they were unable to repulse this
					assembled force which was bursting upon them like
					a torrent, nor did any thought of possible succour
					occur to their minds. At this crucial and fateful
					moment the Athenians were descending from the
					heights to the plain of Mantineia, with no knowledge
					of this turn of fortune or of the keenness of the
					struggle, but were proceeding leisurely on their
					journey. However, when one of the Mantineans ran
					out with report of the danger, although the Athenians
					were few in comparison with the great numbers of
					their enemy, and although they were weary from
					their march, and none of their other allies was at
					hand, nevertheless they straightway took their places
					in battle-array with almost their whole number, while
					the cavalry donned their armour and rode ahead of
					
					 
					
					the rest, and under the very gates and the wall of
					the eity engaged in a sharp cavalry encounter; the
					Athenians prevailed and rescued Mantineia from the
					clutches of Epameinondas.
				 
 This was the action which Euphranor depicted,
					and in his portrayal of the battle one may see the
					clash of conflict and the stout resistance abounding in
					boldness and courage and spirit. But I do not think
					you would award judgement to the painter in comparison with the general, nor would you bear with
					those who prefer the picture to the trophy of victory,
					or the imitation to the actuality.

Simonides, however, calls painting inarticulate
					poetry and poetry articulate painting: for the
					actions which painters portray as taking place at the
					moment literature narrates and records after they
					have taken place. Even though artists with colour
					and design, and writers with words and phrases,
					represent the same subjects, they differ in the
					material and the manner of their imitation; and yet
					the underlying end and aim of both is one and the
					same; the most effective historian is he who, by a vivid
					representation of emotions and characters, makes his
					narration like a painting. Assuredly Thucydides is
					always striving for this vividness in his writing, since it
					is his desire to make the reader a spectator, as it were,
					and to produce vividly in the minds of those who
					peruse his narrative the emotions of amazement
					and consternation which were experienced by those
					who beheld them. For he tells how Demosthenes is
					
					 
					
					drawing up the Athenians at the very edge of the
					breakwater at Pylos, and Brasidas is urging on his pilot
					to beach the ship, and is hurrying to the landing-plank,
					and is wounded and falls fainting on the forward-deck;
					and the Spartans are fighting an infantry engagement from the sea, while the Athenians wage a naval
					battle from the land. Again, in his account of the
					Sicilian expedition: The armies of both sides on
						the land, as long as the fighting at sea is evenly
						balanced, are enduring an unceasing struggle and
						tension of mind because of their battling forces;
					and because of the continued indecisiveness of the
						struggle they accompany it in an extremity of fear,
						with their very bodies swaying in sympathy with
						their opinion of the outcome. Such a description
					is characterized by pictorial vividness both in its
					arrangement and in its power of description; so, if
					it be unworthy to compare painters with generals, let
					us not compare historians either.
				 
 Again, the news of the battle of Marathon Thersippus of Eroeadae brought back, as Heracleides
					Pontieus relates; but most historians declare that it
					was Eucles who ran in full armour, hot from the battle,
					and, bursting in at the doors of the first men of the
					State, could only say, Hail! we are victorious! 
 
					
					 
					
					and straightway expired. Yet this man carne as a
					self-sent messenger regarding a battle in which he
					himself had fought; but suppose that some goatherd
					or shepherd upon a hill or a height had been a distant
					spectator of the contest and had looked down upon
					that great event, too great for any tongue to teli, and
					had come to the city as a messenger, a man who had
					not felt a wound nor shed a drop of blood, and yet
					had insisted that he have such honours as Cynegeirus
					received, or Callimachus, or Polyzelus, because, forsooth, he had reported their deeds of valour, their
					wounds and death; would he not have been thought
					of surpassing impudence? Why, as we are told,
					the Spartans merely sent meat from the public
					commons to the man who brought glad tidings of the
					victory in Mantineia which Thucydides describes!
					And indeed the compilers of histories are, as it were,
					reporters of great exploits who are gifted with the
					faculty of felicitous speech, and achieve success in
					their writing through the beauty and force of their
					narration; and to them those who first encountered
					and recorded the events are indebted for a pleasing
					retelling of them. We may be sure that such writers
					are lauded also merely through being remembered
					and read because of the men who won success; for
					the words do not create the deeds, but because of the
					deeds they are also deemed worthy of being read.

Poetry also has won favour and esteem because
 				it utters words which match the deeds, as Homer 
					says,
					 Many the lies that he spoke, but he made them all to seem
					truthful. 
					
					 
					
					The story is also told that one of Menander's intimate friends said to him, The Dionysian Festival
						is almost here, Menander; haven't you composed your
						comedy? Menander answered, By heaven, I have
							really composed the comedy: the plot's all in order.
							But I still have to fit the lines to it. For even poets
					consider the subject matter more necessary and vital
					than the words.
				 
 When Pindar was still young, and prided himself
					on his felicitous use of words. Corinna warned him
					that his writing lacked refinement, since he did not
					introduce myths, which are the proper business of
					poetry, but used as a foundation for his work unusual
					and obsolete words, extensions of meaning, paraphrases, lyrics and rhythms, which are mere embellishments of the subject matter. So Pindar, giving
					all heed to her words, composed the famous lyric:
					 
 Ismenus, or Melia of the golden distaff,
					 
 Or Cadmus, or the holy race of men that were sown,
					 
 Or the mighty strength of Heracles,
					 
 Or the gladsome worship of Dionysus. 
 
					He showed it to Corinna, but she laughed and said
					that one should sow with the hand, not with the whole
					sack. For in truth Pindar had confused and jumbled
					together a seed-mixture, as it were, of myths, and
					poured them into his poem. That poetry concerns
					itself with the composition of mythological matters
					Plato also has stated. A myth aims at being a false
					
					 
					
					tale, resembling a true one; wherefore it is far removed from actual events, if a tale is but a picture
					and an image of actuality, and a myth is but a picture
					and image of a tale. And thus those who write of
					imaginative exploits lag as far behind historians as
					persons who tell of deeds come short of those that
					do them.

Athens, to be sure, possessed no famous writer
					of either epic or melic poetry; for Cinesias seems
					to have been an infelicitous dithyrambic poet. He
					was himself without family or fame but, jeered and
					mocked by the comic poets, he acquired his share in
					unfortunate notoriety. And for the dramatic poets,
					the Athenians considered the writing of comedy so
					undignified and vulgar a business that there was a
					law forbidding any member of the Areopagus to write
					comedies. But tragedy blossomed forth and won
					great acclaim, becoming a wondrous entertainment
					for the ears and eyes of the men of that age, and,
					by the mythological character of its plots, and the
					vicissitudes which its characters undergo, it effected
					a deception wherein, as Gorgias remarks, he who
						deceives is more honest than he who does not deceive,
						and he who is deceived is wiser than he who is not
						deceived. For he who deceives is more honest,
					because he has done what he promised to do; and he
					who is deceived is wiser, because the mind which is
					not insensible to fine perceptions is easily enthralled
					by the delights of language.
				 
 What profit, then, did these fine tragedies bring to
					Athens to compare with the shrewdness of Themistocles which provided the city with a wall, with the
					
					 
					
					diligence of Pericles which adorned the Acropolis,
					with the liberty which Miltiades bestowed, with the
					supremacy to which Cimon advanced her? If in this
					manner the wisdom of Euripides, the eloquence
					of Sophocles, and the poetic magnificence of
					Aeschylus rid the city of any of its difficulties or
					gained for her any brilliant success, it is but right
					to compare their tragedies with trophies of victory,
					to let the theatre rival the War Office, and to compare the records of dramatic performances with the
					memorials of valour.

Is it, then, your pleasure that we introduce the
					men themselves bearing the emblems and badges of
					their achievements, and assign to each their proper
					entrance? Then from this entrance let the poets
					approach, speaking and chanting to the accompaniment of flutes and lyres,
					 
 Now speak not a word of evil sound, and keep clear the
					way for our chorus,
					 
 Whoever in words like these is unskilled and whose mind
					is not free from uncleanness,
					 
 Who never has sung and never has danced in the rites of
					the noble Muses,
					 
 Nor has ever been trained in the Bacchic rites of the tongue
					of bull-eating Cratinus! 
 
 
					Let them bring with them their equipment, their
					masks and altars, their stage machinery, their revolving changes of scene, and the tripods that commemorate their victories. Let their tragic actors accompany them, men like Nicostratus and Callippides,
					
					 
					
					Mynniscus, Theodorus, and Polus, who robe Tragedy
					and bear her litter, as though she were some woman
					of wealth; or rather, let them follow on as though
					they were painters and gilders and dyers of statues. 
					Let there be provided also a bounteous outlay for
					stage furnishings, supernumeraries, sea-purple robes,
					stage machinery, as well as dancing-masters and bodyguards, an intractable crowd. It was in reference to
					all this that a Spartan not ineptly remarked that the
					Athenians were making a great mistake in wasting
					their energies on amusements, that is to say, in lavishing on the theatre what would pay for great fleets and
					would support armies in the field. For, if we reckon up
					the cost of each tragedy, the Athenian people will be
					seen to have spent more on productions of Bacchae ,
					 Phoenissae , Oedipuses , and Antigones , and the woes of
					Medea and Electra, than they spent in fighting for
					their supremacy and for their liberty against the
					barbarians. For the generals often ordered their men
					to bring along uncooked rations when they led them
					forth to battle; and the commanders, I can swear,
					after providing barley-meal and a relish of onions and
					cheese for the rowers, would embark them on the
					triremes. But the men who paid for the choruses
					gave the choristers eels and tender lettuces, roastbeef and marrow, and pampered them for a long time
					while they were training their voices and living in
					luxury. The result for the defeated choregoi 
 was to
					
					 
					
					be held in contumely and ridicule; but to the victors
					belonged a tripod, which was, as Demetrius says, not
					a votive offering to commemorate their victory, but a
					last oblation of their wasted livelihood, an empty
					memorial of their vanished estates. Such are the returns paid by the poetic art and nothing more splendid
					ever comes from it.

But let us now review the generals in their turn,
					as they make entrance from the other side; and at
					their approach those who have had no part in deeds
					of valour or political life or campaigns must in very
					truth speak not a word of evil sound and clear the
						way, whoever there be that lacks courage for such
					deeds as theirs and whose mind is not free from
						uncleanness, nor has ever been trained in the Bacchic
						rites that are the handiwork of Miltiades, bane of
					Medes, and Themistocles, slayer of Persians. This
					is the rebel-rout of the god of war, with battalions
					on land and squadrons on sea, laden with mingled
					spoils and trophies:
					 
 Hearken, Alala, daughter of War,
					Thou prelude of clashing spears, thou to whom are
					offered
					 
						 Heroes in the holy sacrifice of death, 
 
 
					as Epameinondas the Theban cried, when he and his
					men were dedicating themselves to the noblest and
					most resplendent of struggles for their native land,
					the graves of their fathers, and their holy shrines. I
					seem to see their victories advancing, not dragging
					
					 
					
					along a bull or a goat as their prize, nor garlanded
					with ivy and redolent of the lees of Dionysus; but
					whole cities are theirs, and islands, and even continents, temples costing a thousand talents, and
					colonies of vast population; and they are garlanded
					with all manner of trophies and spoils. Their ornaments and emblems are buildings like the Parthenon
					one hundred feet in length, southern Long Walls, 
					dockyards, Propylaea, Chersonese, and Amphipolis. 
					Marathon leads forward the Victory of Miltiades, and
					Salamis does the same for Themistocles' Victory,
					poised upon the wreckage of a thousand ships.
					Cimon's Victory brings an hundred Phoenician ships
					from the Eurymedon, and the Victory of Demosthenes and Cleon brings from Sphacteria the captive
					shield of Brasidas and his soldiers in chains. Conon's
					Victory fortifies the city with new walls, while that of
					Thrasybulus leads back from Phyle the people restored to freedom. Alcibiades' Victories revive the
					city laid prostrate by her failure in Sicily. From the
					struggles of Neileus and Androclus about Lydia and
					Caria Greece came to see that Ionia was rising. If
					you inquire of the other Victories in turn what good
					came to the State from each, one will reply Lesbos,
					another Samos, another Cyprus, another the Euxine,
					another five hundred triremes, another ten thousand
					talents, to say nothing of the glory and the trophies
					which they won. These are the things which the city
					
					 
					
					celebrates in her festivals, for these she sacrifices to
					the gods, not for the dramatic victories of Aeschylus
					and Sophocles. Nor is the day celebrated when
					Carcinus was successful with his Aüropê , or Astydamas with his Hector , but even yet the State celebrates the victory at Marathon on the sixth of
					Boëdromion. On the sixteenth of this month they
					pour a libation of wine in memory of Chabrias's
					victory at Naxos. On the twelfth they used to
					sacrifice thank-offerings for the recovery of their
					liberty, for on that day the exiles returned from
					Phylê. On the third they won the battle of
					Plataeae. The sixteenth of Munichion they dedicated to Artemis, for on that day the goddess shone
					with full moon upon the Greeks as they were conquering at Salamis. The conflict at Mantineia has
					made the twelfth of Scirophorion more sacred; for in
					this battle, when the other allies were overpowered
					and routed, it was the Athenians alone who defeated
					the force opposed to them and erected a trophy taken
					from the victorious enemy. These are the things
					which have uplifted Athens to heights of glory and
					greatness; it was for these that Pindar addressed
					Athens as
					 The mainstay of Greece, 
					not because she had guided the Greeks aright with
					
					 
					
					the tragedies of Phrynichus and Thespis, but because,
					as he himself says, first at Artemisium
					 Sons of the Athenians laid the far-shining foundation
					of freedom. 
 
					And when at Salamis and Mycalê and Plataeae they
					had firmly established, as in adamant, the liberty of
					Greece, they handed it down to all mankind.

But the compositions of the poets we may affirm
					to be but a childish pastime; orators, however, have
					some claim when compared with generals; wherefore with good reason Aeschines asserts derisively
					that Demosthenes declares that he will enter a suit
					for possession on behalf of the Speakers' Platform
					against the War Office. Is it, then, right to prefer
					Hypereides' Plataean oration to Aristeides' victory
					at Plataea? Or Lysias's speech against the Thirty 
					to Thrasybulus's and Archinus's slaughter of those
					tyrants? Or Aeschines' oration against Timarchus's
					wanton ways to Phocion's expedition to Byzantium, 
					by which he prevented the sons of Athenian allies
					from becoming victims of the wantonness and
					drunken lust of Macedonians? Or with the crowns 
					which the Athenian people in common received when
					they had given freedom to Greece shall we compare
					
					 
					
					Demosthenes' oration On the Crown ? For in this
					speech the orator has made this matter exceedingly
					perspicuous and intelligible in taking his oath by
						the memory of those of our ancestors who risked their
						lives for us at Marathon, 
 not by the teachers who
					in the schools gave them as youths their early
					training.
				 
 Wherefore the State has given public burial not to
					men like Isocrates, Antiphon, and Isaeus, but to these
					men, whose remains she has taken in her embrace;
					and these men it was that the orator deified in his oath
					when he swore by men whose example he was not
					following. But Isocrates, although he had declared 
					that those who had risked their lives at Marathon had
					fought as though their souls were not their own, and
					although he had hymned their daring and their contempt of life, himself (so they say), when he was
					already an old man, replied to someone who asked
					him how he was getting on, Even as does a man over
						ninety years of age who considers death the greatest
						of evils. For he had not grown old sharpening his
					sword nor whetting his spear-point nor polishing
					his helmet nor campaigning nor pulling at the oar,
					but in glueing together and arranging antitheses,
					balanced clauses, and inflexional similarities, all but
					smoothing off and proportioning his periods with
					chisel and file. How could this person do other than
					fear the clash of arms and the impact of phalanxes,
					he who feared to let vowel collide with vowel, or to
					
					 
					
					utter a phrase whose balance was upset by the lack
					of a single syllable? For Miltiades set forth for
					Marathon, joined battle the next day, and returned
					victorious with his army to the city; and Pericles, 
					when he had subdued the Samians in nine months,
					was prouder of his achievement than was Agamemnon, who captured Troy in the tenth year. But
					Isocrates consumed almost twelve years in writing
					his Panegyric 
 ; and during this period he took part
					in no campaigns, nor served on any embassy, nor
					founded any city, nor was dispatched as commander
					of a fleet, although this era brought forth countless
					wars. But while Timotheüs was freeing Euboea, and
					Chabrias with his fleet was fighting at Naxos, and
					Iphicrates near Lechaeum was cutting to pieces the
					Spartan division, and the Athenian people, having
					liberated every city, bestowed upon Greece equal
					suffrage with themselves, Isocrates sat at home
					remodelling a book with mere words, as long a
					time as sufficed for Pericles to erect the Propylaea
					and his temples a hundred feet long. Yet Cratinus 
					pokes fun even at Pericles for his slowness in accomplishing his undertakings, and remarks somewhat as
					follows about his Middle Wall: 
					 
 Pericles in his talk makes the wall to advance,
					 
 By his acts he does nothing to budge it. 
 
					But consider the petty spirit of this sophist, which
					
					 
					
					caused the ninth part of his life to be spent on the
					composition of one speech. Is it, then, greatly
					worth our while to compare the speeches of the
					orator Demosthenes with the deeds of Demosthenes
					the general? To compare the speech Against Conon 
 
					for assault and battery with Demosthenes' trophies
					won at Pylos? To compare the speech directed at
					Arethusius on the slaves with Demosthenes' reduction of the Spartans to slavery? The orator's age
					when he wrote his speeches against his guardians 
					was the same as that of Alcibiades when he united
					the Mantineans and Eleans against Sparta. And
					indeed Demosthenes' public orations have this
					wonderful characteristic: in the Philippics he spurs
					his countrymen on to action and he praises the action
					of Leptines.