A stranger was vaunting his admiration of them, and was saying that in his own city he was called a lover of Sparta.  Theopompus observed, “It would be more to your credit to be called a lover of your own city.”  Pleistoanax the son of Pausanias, when an Athenian orator reproached the Lacedaemonians for ignorance, observed, “What you say is quite true, for we are the only Greeks who have not learned some mischief from you.”

When a stranger asked Archidamidas how many Spartans there were, he answered, “Enough to keep off bad men.”

One may also discover their peculiarities in their jokes; for they are taught never to talk at random, nor to utter a syllable that does not contain some thought.  As, when one of them was invited to hear a man imitate the nightingale, he answered, “I have heard the original;” and the man who read this epigram—­

    “These men, to quench a tyrant’s pride,
    Before Selinus fought and died.”

“These men,” said he, “deserved to die; for, instead of quenching it, they should have let it burn itself out.”  When a young man was promised a present of cocks that would fight till they died, he said, “I had rather have some that will fight and kill their foes.”  This was the style of their talk; so that some have well said that philosophy is more truly Laconian than gymnastic exercises.

XX.—­Their education in poetry and music was no less carefully watched over than their cleverness and purity of speech, but their songs were such as rouse men’s blood and stir them to deeds of prowess, written in plain unaffected language, upon noble and edifying subjects.  For the most part they consisted of panegyrics upon those who had been happy enough to die for their country, reproaches of cowards for living a miserable life, and encouragement to bravery suitable to those of all ages.  A good instance of this is that on festivals when there are three choruses, that of the old men first sang—­

    “We once were lusty youths and tall.”

Then that of the young men sang—­

    “We still are stout; come, try a fall,”

and the third, that of the children, rejoined—­

    “But we’ll be stronger than you all.”

Indeed, if one pays any attention to such Laconian poetry as is still extant, and to the march music which was played on the flutes when they were going to meet their enemies, it becomes clear that Terpander and Pindar were right in connecting poetry with bravery.  The former speaks thus of the Lacedaemonians: 

    “Where the youths are bold with the spear,
    And the voice of the muse is clear,
    And justice to all is dear.”

And Pindar says of them—­

    “Where the old are wise in council,
      And the young are brave in fight;
    Where song and dance are honoured
      On many a festal night.”

For they represent them as being most warlike and at the same time most poetical.