merchant tastes of the Ionians."[15]

"Son of Cleombrotus," said one of the group, a Spartan whose rank
and services entitled him to more than ordinary familiarity with the
chief, "it is not the ocean itself that we should dread, it is the
contagion of those who, living on the element, seem to share in its
ebb and flow. The Ionians are never three hours in the same mind."

"For that reason," said Pausanias, fixing his eyes steadfastly on the
Spartan, "for that reason I have judged it advisable to adopt a rough
manner with these innovators, to draw with a broad chalk the line
between them and the Spartans, and to teach those who never knew
discipline the stern duties of obedience. Think you I have done
wisely?"

The Spartan, who had risen when Pausanias addressed him, drew his
chief a little aside from the rest.

"Pausanias," said he, "the hard Naxian stone best tames and tempers
the fine steel;[16] but the steel may break if the workman be not
skilful. These Athenians are grown insolent since Marathon, and their
soft kindred of Asia have relighted the fires they took of old from
the Cecropian Prytaneum. Their sail is more numerous than ours; on the
sea they find the courage they lose on land. Better be gentle with
those wayward allies, for the Spartan greyhound shows not his teeth
but to bite."

"Perhaps you are right. I will consider these things, and appease the
mutineers. But it goes hard with my pride, Thrasyllus, to make equals
of this soft-tongued race. Why, these Ionians, do they not enjoy