has only developed courage, which is, after all, but a fourth-rate virtue; and it has proceeded on the mistaken notion that man's natural state is war. Other virtues—such as wisdom and temperance—are thus made of little account; and Sparta has banished pleasure, which is really as effectual a test of self-control as pain. Wine, too, is forbidden there—though it is a most useful medium for discovering a man's strength or weakness; indeed, at the festival of Bacchus there ought, the Athenian thinks, to be a drinking tournament—with a sober president—and all honour should be paid to the youth who could drink hardest and longest. For it is clear that the man with the strongest head at the banquet will be the coolest and most imperturbable on the battle-field. Again, wine softens and humanises the character; it cures the sourness of old age, and under its influence we renew our youth and forget our sorrows. And if you want to try a friend's honour and integrity—in vino veritas; ply him with wine, and you will read all the secrets of his heart. But with all this, there should be a stringent "Licensing Act." The times and seasons when wine may be drunk should be strictly defined by law; and no soldier on active service, no slave, no judge or magistrate during his year of office, no pilot on duty, should be allowed to drink wine at all; and, if these precautions are carried out, a city will not need many vineyards.
The use of wine as a means of training opens the general question of Education, which is examined again at greater length in the Seventh Book of the treatise;
