time we set him to recite some childish piece; he sifts
it out like water through a crack, “Apollo”—pause,—
then “hunter!”
[Th e poor mother goes on to say that it is useless to scold
the boy; for, if she does, he promptly runs away from
home, to sponge upon his grandmother, or sits upon the
roof out of the way like an ape, breaking the tiles, which
is expensive for his parents.]
Yet he knows the seventh and the twentieth of the
month, whole holidays, as if he reads the stars; he lies
awake o’nights dreaming of them. But, so may yonder
Muses prosper you, give him in stripes no less than—
Lampriscos [briskly]. Right you are, here, Euthias,
Coccalos, and Phillos hoist him upon your backs. I like
your goings on, my boy! I’ll teach you manners! Where’s
my strap, with the stinging cow’s tail?
Cottalos [in terror]. By the Muses, sir,—not with the
stinger?
Lampriscos. Th en you shouldn’t be so naughty.
Cottalos. O, how many will you give me!
Lampriscos. Your mother fi xes that.
Cottalos. How many, mother?
Metrotimé. As many as your wicked hide can bear.
[Th ey proceed with the fl ogging]
Cottalos. Stop!—Th at’s enough!— Stop! Lampriscos.
You should stop your ways.
Cottalos. I’ll never do it more, I promise you.
Lampriscos. Don’t talk so much, or else I’ll bring a gag.
Cottalos. I won’t talk,—only do not kill me,—please!
Lampriscos [at length relenting]. Let him down, boys.
Metrotimé. No—eather him till sunset.
Lampriscos. Why, he’s as mottled as a water snake.
Metrotimé. Well, when he’s done his reading, good or
bad, give him a trifl e more, say twenty strokes.
Cottalos [in agony]. Yah!
Metrotimé. [turning away]. I’ll go home and get a pair
of fetters. Our Lady Muses, whom he scorned, shall see
their scorner hobble here with shackled feet.
From: William Stearns Davis, ed.,
Readings in Ancient History: Illustrative
Extracts from the Sources. Vol. 1: Greece
and the East (Boston: Allyn and Bacon,
1912–1913), pp. 255–257.
(cont inues)
Children ought to be made to abstain from speaking
fi lthily, seeing, as Democritus said, words are but the
shadows of actions. Th ey are, moreover, to be instructed
to be aff able and courteous in discourse. For as churlish
manners are always detestable, so children may be kept
from being odious in conversation, if they will not be
pertinaciously bent to maintain all they say in dispute.
For it is of use to a man to understand not only how to
overcome, but also how to give ground when to conquer
would turn to his disadvantage....
Add we now to these things some others of which
children ought to have no less, yes, rather greater care;
to-wit, that they avoid luxurious living, bridle their
tongues, subdue anger, and refrain their hands.... To
begin with the last: some men there have been, who, by
opening their hands to take what they ought not, have
lost all the honor they got in the former part of their
lives. So Gylippus the Lacedaemonian, for unsewing
the public money-bags, was condemned to banishment
from Sparta. And to be able also to subdue anger is the
part of a wise man. Such a one was Socrates; for when a
hectoring and debauched young man rudely kicked him,
so that those in his company, being sorely off ended,
were ready to run after him and call him to account for
it, What, said he to them, if an ass had kicked me, would
you think it handsomely done to kick him again? And yet
the young man himself escaped not unpunished; for
when all persons reproached him for so unworthy an
act, and gave him the nickname of Laktistes, or the
kicker, he hanged himself. Th e same Socrates—when
Aristophanes, publishing his play which he called Th e
Clouds, therein threw all sorts of the foulest reproaches
upon him, and a friend of his, who was present at the
acting of it, repeated to him what was there said in the
same comical manner, asking him withal, Does not this
Plutarch: “ Th e Training of Children,” ca. 110 c.e.
Rome
200 children: primary source documents