Pamphilus had cultivated the severe sciences as well as the agreeable ones, including music and poetry. I have already mentioned that he required from his pupils a knowledge of arithmetic and geometry. His course of study, besides, appears to have been exact, if not severe. “No day without a line,” was a precept learnt by Apelles in his school, where he studied for ten years, paying a silver talent for each year[123], according to some, while others imagine the talent was paid for the whole ten years[124]. At any rate, Pamphilus set a high value upon his art, and maintained that none but the free could practise it. His own pictures were much prized: Pliny names one of the battle of Phlius; another, of Ulysses in a small vessel at sea; and a third picture, containing, as I imagine, several family portraits. Quintilian praises the beautiful designs of Pamphilus; and as many of his original works were in Rome when Quintilian wrote, he had an opportunity of judging of them for himself. But it is Apelles whose name spreads lustre over the most refined and polished æra of painting in Greece. Admired, beloved, and consulted in his own time, and praised by every writer among the ancients, we have to lament not only that no picture of his has come down to us, but that those letters to his pupils, and those more connected works in which he is said to have laid down all the rules and principles--nay, the very secrets of art, have perished. Apelles was born in Cos, though Lucian, in one of his dialogues, talks of him as a native of Ephesus[125]. He seems to have been endowed with the sweetest temper and disposition, as well as the finest genius. He was generously eager to set forth the merits of others, and the urbanity of his manners was such, that while he used perfect freedom, he could not give offence. As an instance of this, Pliny relates that Alexander, who frequently visited his workshop, allowed himself great licence and liberty of jesting. Apelles gently reproved him, entreating him to forbear, lest his pupils and the boys who ground his colours should repeat his words and make a jest of the king. The freedom of the painter was so far from displeasing, that Alexander appears to have cultivated an intimacy with him, little usual between a king and conqueror, and an artist. Besides employing him to paint his own portrait, and forbidding any other painter to attempt it, he took so great an interest in the Venus Anadyomene, which Apelles was at work upon when he arrived at Athens, that he sent him the most beautiful of his Theban captives, named Campaspe, with whom he is reported to have been deeply in love, to serve as a model. Apelles, moved by her misfortunes and her loveliness, conceived a passion for her which could not be concealed, and Alexander perceiving that his captive returned the painter’s affection, instantly resigned her to him[126].