that tenderness, he treated her very cruelly, and was in perpetual distrust even of her. He never went to her apartment without a slave before him with a naked sword in his hand, and sending some of his guard to search every coffer for concealed poniards. Wretched prince, cries Cicero, who could confide more in a slave and a barbarian than his own wife! Thebe therefore desiring to see Pelopidas, found him in a melancholy condition, dressed in a poor habit, his hair and beard neglected, and void of every thing that might console him in his distress. Not being able to refrain from tears at such a sight, "Ah unfortunate Pelopidas," said she, "how I lament your poor wife !" "No, Thebe,” replied he, "it is your"self you should lament, who can suffer such a monster as Alexander, "without being his prisoner." These words touched Thebe to the quick; for it was with extreme reluctance she bore the tyrant's cruelty, violence, and infamous way of living. Hence, going often to see Pelopidas, and frequently bewailing before him the injuries she suffered, she daily conceived new abhorrence for her husband, whilst hatred and the desire of revenge grew strong in her heart.

The Theban generals, who had entered Thessaly, did nothing there of any importance, and were obliged by their incapacity and ill conduct to abandon the country. The tyrant pursued them in their retreat, harassed them shamefully, and killed abundance of their troops. The whole army had been defeated, if the soldiers had not obliged Epaminondas, who had served as a private man amongst them, to take upon him the command. Epaminondas at the head of the cavalry and light armed foot, posted himself in the rear; where sometimes sustaining the enemy's attacks, and sometimes charging them in his turn, he completed the retreat with success, and preserved the Boeotians. The generals upon their return were each of them fined 10,000 drachms,* and Epaminondas substituted in their place. As the public good was his sole view, he overlooked the injurious treatment and kind of affront which he had received, and had full amends in the glory that attended so generous and disinterested a conduct.

Some days after, he marched at the bead of his army into Thessaly, whither his reputation had preceded him. It had spread already both terror and joy through the whole country; terror amongst the tyrant's friends, whom the very name of Epaminondas dismayed, and joy amongst the people, from the assurance of being speedily delivered from the yoke of the tyranny, and the tyrant punished for all his crimes. But Epaminondas preferring the safety of Pelopidas to his own glory, instead of carrying on the war with vigour, as he might have done, chose rather to protract it, from the apprehension that the tyrant, if reduced to despair, like a wild beast, would turn his whole rage upon his prisoner; for he knew the violence and brutality of his nature, which would hearken neither to reason nor justice; and that he took delight in burying men alive; that some he covered with the skins of bears and wild boars, that his dogs might tear them in pieces, or he shot them to death with arrows. These were his frequent sports and diversions. In the cities of Miliboa and Scotusa,t which were in alliance with him, he called an assembly of the citizens, and causing them to be surrounded by his guards, he ordered the throats of all their young to be cut in his presence.

Hearing one day a famous actor perform a part in the Troades of Euripides, he suddenly went out of the theatre, and sent to the actor to tell him not to be under any apprehension upon that account; for that bis

* About 2251. sterling.

Cities of Magnesia.

leaving the place was not from any discontent in regard to him, but because he was ashamed to let the citizens see him weep for the misfortunes of Hercules and Andromache, who had cut so many of their throats without any compassion.

Though he was little susceptible of pity, he was much so of fear at this time. Amazed at the sudden arrival of Epaminondas, and dazzled with the majesty that surrounded him, he made haste to dispatch persons to him with apologies for his conduct. Epaminondas could not suffer that the Thebans should make either peace or alliance with so wicked a man. He only granted him a truce for 30 days, and after having got Pelopidas and Ismenius out of his hands, he retired with his troops.

* Fear is not a master whose lessons make any deep and lasting impression upon the mind of man. The tyrant of Phere soon returned to his natural disposition. He ruined several cities of Thessaly, and put garrisons into those of Phthia, Achæa, and Magnesia. Those cities sent deputies to Thebes to demand a succour of troops, praying that the command of them might be given to Pelopidas; which was granted. He was upon the point of setting out, when there happened a sudden eclipse of the sun, by which the city of Thebes was darkened at noon-day. The dread and consternation was general. Pelopidas knew very well that this accident had nothing more than natural in it; but he did not think it proper for him to expose 7000 Thebans against their will, nor to compel them to march in the terror and apprehension with which he perceived they were seized. He therefore gave himself to the Thessalians alone, and taking with him. 300 horse of such Thebans and strangers as would follow him, he departed contrary to the prohibition of the soothsayers, and the opinion of the most wise and judicious.

He was personally incensed against Alexander, in resentment of the injuries he had received from him. What Thebe his wife had said, and he himself knew, of the general discontent in regard to the tyrant, gave him hopes of finding great divisions in his court, and an universal disposition to revolt. But his strongest motive was the beauty and grandeur of the action in itself. For his sole desire and ambition was to show all Greece, that at the same time the Lacedæmonians sent generals and officers to Dionysius the tyrant, and the Athenians on their part were in a manner in the pay of Alexander, to whom they had erected a statue of brass, as to their benefactor, the Thebans were the only people that declared war against ty. ranny, and endeavoured to exterminate from amongst the Greeks all unjust and violent government.

After having assembled his army at Pharsalus, he marched against the tyrant: who, being apprised that Pelopidas had but few Thebans, and knowing that his own infantry was twice as strong as that of the Thessalians, advanced to meet him. Pelopidas being told by somebody, that Alexander approached with a great army: "So much the better," replied he, we shall beat the greater number."

66

Near a place called Cynocephalus, there were very high and steep hills, which lay in the midst of the plain. Both armies were in motion to seize that post with their foot, when Polopidas ordered his cavalry to charge that of the enemy. The horse of Pelopidas broke that of Alexander's, and whilst they pursued them upon the plain, Alexander appeared suddenly upon the top of the hills, having outstripped the Thessalians; and charging rudely such as endeavoured to force those heights and entrenchments,

*Plut. in Pelop. p. 295-298. Xenoph. 1. vi. p. 601.

VOL. II.

61

he killed the foremost, and repulsed the others, whom their wounds obliged to give way. Pelopidas seeing this, recalled his horse, and giving them orders to attack the enemy's foot, he took his buckler and ran to those who fought upon the hills.

He presently made way through his infantry, and passed in a moment from the rear to the front, revived his soldiers' vigour and courage in such a manner as made the enemies believe themselves attacked by fresh troops. They supported two or three charges with great resolution: but finding Pelopidas' infantry continually gaining ground, and that his cavalry were returned from the pursuit to support them, they began to give way, and retired slowly, still making head in their retreat. Pelopidas, seeing the whole army of the enemy from the top of the hills, which though it was not yet actually put to flight, began to break, and was in great disorder, he stopped for some time, looking about every where for Alex

ander.

As soon as he perceived him upon his right wing, rallying and encouraging his mercenary soldiers, he could contain himself no longer, but fired with that view, and abandoning to his sole resentment the care of his life, and the conduct of the battle, he got a great way before his battalions; and ran forwards with all his force, calling upon and defying Alexander. The tyrant made no answer to his defiance, and not daring to wait his coming up, withdrew to hide himself amongst his guards. The battalion standing firm for some time, Pelopidas broke the first ranks, and killed the greatest part of the guards upon the spot. The rest continuing the fight at a distance, pierced his arms and breast at length with their javelins. The Thessalians, alarmed at the danger in which they saw him, made all the haste they could from the tops of the hills to his assistance; but he was fallen dead when they arrived. The infantry and the Theban horse, returning to the fight against the enemy's main body, put them to flight, and pursued them a great way. The plain was covered with the dead; for more than 3000 of the tyrant's troops were killed.

This action of Pelopidas, though it appears the effect of a consummate valour, is inexcusable, and has been generally condemned, because there is no true valour without wisdom and prudence. The greatest courage is cool and sedate. It spares itself where it ought, and exposes itself when occasion makes it necessary. A general ought to see every thing, and to have every thing in his thoughts. To be in a condition to apply the proper remedy on all occasions, he must not precipitate himself to the danger of being cut off, and of causing the loss of his army by his death.

f

Euripides, after having said in one of his pieces, that it is highly glorious for a general of an army to obtain the victory by taking care of his own life, adds, "that if it be necessary for him to die, it must be when "he resigns his life into the hands of virtue;" to signify that only virtue, not passion, anger, or revenge, has a right over the life of a general, and that the first duty of valour is to preserve him who preserves others.

It is in this sense the saying of Timotheus is so just and estimable. When Chares showed the Athenians the wounds he had received whilst he was their general, and his shield pierced through with a pike: “And "for me," said Timotheus," when I besieged Samos, I was much asham"ed to see a dart fall very near me as having exposed myself like a young man without necessity, and more than was consistent for the general of "so great an army." Hannibal certainly cannot be suspected of fear, and

*Plut, in Pelop. p 817.

+ Ibid. p. 278.

yet it has been observed, that in the great number of battles which he fought, he never received any wound, except only at the siege of Sagun

tum.

It is therefore not without reason that Pelopidas is reproached with having sacrificed all his other virtues to his valour, by such a prodigality of his life, and with having died rather for himself than his country.

Never was captain more lamented than he. His death changed the victory so lately gained into mourning. A profound silence and universal affliction reigned throughout the whole army, as if it had been entirely defeated. When his body was carried to Thebes, from every city by which it passed, the people of all ages and sexes, the magistrates and priests, came out to meet the bier, and to march in procession before it, carrying crowns, trophies, and armour of gold. The Thessalians, who were at the same time highly afflicted for his death, and equally sensible of their obli gations to him, made it their request, that they might be permitted to celebrate at their sole expence, the obsequies of a general who had devoted himself for their preservation; and that honourable privilege could not be refused to their grateful zeal.

His funeral was magnificent, especially in the sincere affliction of the Thebans and Thessalians; for, says Plutarch, the external pomp of mourning, and those marks of sorrow, which may be imposed by the public authority upon the people, are not always certain proofs of their real sentiments. The tears which flow in private as well as public, the regret expressed equally by great and small, the praises given by the general, and unanimous voice to a person who is no more, and from whom nothing further is expected, are an evidence not to be questioned, and an homage never paid but to virtue. Such were the obsequies of Pelopidas, and in my opinion, nothing more great and magnificent could be imagined. Thebes was not contented with lamenting Pelopidas, but resolved to avenge him. A small army of 7000 foot and 700 horse were immediately sent against Alexander. The tyrant who had not yet recovered the terror of his defeat, was in no condition to defend himself. He was obliged to restore to the Thessalians the cities he had taken from them, and to give the Magnesians, Phthians, and Achæans, their liberty, to withdraw his garrisons from their country, and to swear that he would always obey the Thebans, and march at their orders against all their enemies.

Such a punishment was very gentle; nor, says Plutarch, did it appear sufficient to the gods, or proportioned to his crimes. They had reserved one for him worthy of a tyrant. Thebe, his wife, who saw with horror and detestation the cruelty and perfidy of her husband, and had not forgot the lessons and advice which Pelopidas had given her, whilst in prison, entered into a conspiracy with her three brothers to kill him. The tyrant's whole palace was full of guadrs who kept watch in the night; but he placed little confidence in them; and as his life was in some sort in their hands, he feared them the most of all men. He lay in a high chamber, to which he ascended by a ladder that was drawn up after his entrance. Near this chamber a great dog was chained to guard it. He was exceedingly fierce, and knew nobody but his master, Thebe, and the slave who fed him.

The time pitched upon for the execution of the plot being arrived, Thebe shut up her brothers during the day time in an apartment near the tyrant's. When he entered it at night, as he was full of meat and wine, he fell into a deep sleep immediately. Thebe went out presently after, and ordered the slave to take away the dog, that he might not disturb her husband's re

pose; and lest the ladder should make a noise when her brothers came up by it, she covered the steps of it with wool. All things being thus prepared, she made her brothers ascend, armed with daggers; who, when they came to the door, were seized with terror, and would go no farther. Thebe, quite out of her wits, threatened to awake the tyrant if they did not proceed immediately, and to discover the plot to him. Their shame and fear reanimated them: she made them enter, led them to the bed, and held the lamp herself, whilst they killed him with repeated wounds. The news of his death was immediately spread through the city. His dead body was exposed to all sorts of outrages, trampled under foot by the people, and given for a prey to the dogs and vultures: a just reward for his violent oppressions and detestable cruelties.

EPAMINONDAS

SECTION VII.

CHOSEN GENERAL OF THE

CHARACTER.

THEBANS.-HIS DEATH AND

THE extraordinary prosperity of Thebes* was no small subject of alarm to the neighbouring states. Every thing was at that time in motion in Greece. A new war had sprung up between the Arcadians and the Eleans, which had occasioned another between the Arcadians themselves. The people of Tegea had called in the Thebans to their aid; and those of Mantinæa, the Spartans and Athenians. There were besides several other allies on each side. The former gave Epaminondas the command of their troops, who immediately entered Arcadia, and encamped at Tegea, with design to attack the Mantinæans who had quitted their alliance with Thebes to attach themselves to Sparta.

Being informed that Agesilaus had begun his march with his army, and advanced towards Mantinæa, he formed an enterprise, which he believed would immortalize his name, and entirely reduce the power of the enemy. He left Tegea in the night with his army, unknown to the Mantinæans and marched directly to Sparta by a different route from that of Agesilaus. He would undoubtedly have taken the city by surprise, as it had neither walls, defence nor troops: but happily for Sparta, a Cretan having made all possible haste to apprise Agesilaus of his design, be immediately dispatched one of his horse to advise the city of the danger that threatened it, and arrived there soon after in person.

He had scarce entered the town, when the Thebans were seen passing the Eurotas, and coming on against the city. Epaminondas, who perceiv ed that his design was discovered, thought it incumbent on him not to retire without some attempt. He therefore made his troops advance, and making use of valour instead of stratagem, he attacked the city at several quarters, penetrated as far as the public place, and seized that part of Sparta which lay upon the side of the river. Agesilaus made head every where, and defended himself with much more valour than could be expected from his years. He saw well that it was not now a time, as before to spare himself, and to act only upon the defensive; but that he had need of all his courage and daring, and to fight with all the vigour of despair: means which he had never used nor placed his confidence in before, but which he employed with great success in the present dangerous emergency; for

*A. M. 3641. Ant. J. C. 363. Xenoph. 1. vii. p. 642-644. Plut. in Agesil. p. 615. Diod. p. 391, $92. p. 547.

† Polyb. 1. ix.