cherish and fortify them in him, extolling him perpetually as
the most opulent prince of his age, and never speaking of his wealth, or
the magnificence of his palace, but in terms of admiration and rapture;
because they knew this was the sure way to please him, and to secure his
favour. For flattery is nothing else but a commerce of falsehood and
lying, founded upon interest on one side, and vanity on the other. The
flatterer desirous to advance himself, and make his fortune; the prince to
be praised and admired, because he is his own first flatterer, and carries
within himself a more subtile and better prepared poison than any
adulation gives him.

That maxim of AEsop, who had formerly been a slave, and still retained
somewhat of the spirit and character of slavery, though he had varnished
it over with the address of an artful courtier; that maxim of his, I say,
which recommended to Solon, "That we should either not come near kings, or
say what is agreeable to them," shows us with what kind of men Croesus had
filled his court, and by what means he had banished all sincerity,
integrity, and duty, from his presence. In consequence of which, we see he
could not bear that noble and generous freedom in the philosopher, upon
which he ought to have set an infinite value; as he would have done, had
he but understood the worth of a friend, who, attaching himself to the
person, and not to the fortune of a prince, has the courage to tell him
disagreeable truths; truths unpalatable, and bitter to self-love at the
present, but that may prove very salutary and serviceable for the future.
_Dic illis, non quod volunt audire, sed quod audisse semper volent._ These
are Seneca's own words, where he is endeavouring to show of what great use
a faithful and sincere friend may be to a prince; and what he adds further
seems to be written on purpose for Croesus: "Give him,"(1105) says he,
"wholesome advice. Let a word of truth once reach those ears, which are
perpetually fed and entertained with flattery. You will ask me, what
service can be done to a person arrived at the highest pitch of felicity?
That of teaching him not to trust in his prosperity; of removing that vain
confidence he has in his power and greatness, as if they were to endure
for ever; of making him understand, that every thing which belongs to and
depends upon fortune, is as unstable as herself; and that there is often
but the space of a moment between the highest elevation an