taste, is honestly his idea of good living; it is probable that he
really did sacrifice both money and fame to live in Athens rather than
in Rome, according to his own ideal. That ideal is a very modest one;
when _Menippus_ took all the trouble to get down to Tiresias in Hades
via Babylon, his reward was the information that 'the life of the
ordinary man is the best and the most prudent choice.' So thought
Lucian; and it is to be counted to him for righteousness that he
decided to abandon 'the odious practices that his profession imposes
on the advocate--deceit, falsehood, bluster, clamour, pushing,' for
the quiet life of a literary man (especially as we should probably
never have heard his name had he done otherwise). Not that the life
was so quiet as it might have been. He could not keep his satire
impersonal enough to avoid incurring enmities. He boasts in the
_Peregrine_ of the unfeeling way in which he commented on that
enthusiast to his followers, and we may believe his assurance that his
writings brought general dislike and danger upon him. His moralizing
(of which we are happy to say there is a great deal) is based on
Tiresias's pronouncement. Moralizing has a bad name; but than good
moralizing there is, when one has reached a certain age perhaps, no
better reading. Some of us like it even in our novels, feel more at
home with Fielding and Thackeray for it, and regretfully confess
ourselves unequal to the artistic aloofness of a Flaubert. Well,
Lucian's moralizings are, for those who like such things, of the right
quality; they are never dull, and the touch is extremely light. We may
perhaps be pardoned for alluding to half a dozen conceptions that have
a specially modern air about them. The use that Rome may serve as a
school of resistance to temptation (_Nigrinus_, 19) recalls Milton's
'fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that
never sallies out and seeks her adversary.' 'Old age is wisdom's
youth, the day of her glorious flower' (_Heracles_, 8) might have