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