In the following year, Sulpicius was superseded by the new consul, Publius Villius Tappulus, who, taking command of Sulpicius’ legions at Apollonia, advanced up the open valley of the Aöus, now Vioza, with the intention of forcing the famous passes, variously known as the Aoi Stenæ, or Fauces Antigoncuses, and now as the defiles of the Viosa, rather than turning them by way of Dassaretia, as had been done previously by his predecessor. The judgment was sound, the execution naught. For, after marching to within five miles of the western extremity of the defiles, he fortified his camp in the plain, probably in the valley of the Dryno,[5] above its junction with the Vioza, reconnoitered the position of Philip, who was very strongly posted in an intrenched camp at the most difficult point of the pass, _à cheval_ on the river, and occupying both the mountain sides, and there lay perfectly inactive until he was himself relieved by Titus Quinctius Flamininus, his successor in the consular dignity. This man, of the early Roman leaders, was in many respects one of the most remarkable; in one particular, with the single exception of Caius Julius Cæsar, the great Dictator, he stands alone, in honorable contrast to his merciless and cruel countrymen—though quick and vehement of temper, he was a just man, and both merciful and courteous to conquered enemies. The one blot on his character, to which I shall come hereafter, must be ascribed to the policy of his country, under direct orders from which he was unquestionably acting, not to his own wishes or disposition, to which nothing could be more abhorrent than the duty imposed upon him. Plutarch informs[6] us that, in his time, “it was easy to judge of his personal appearance,” which, unfortunately, he has not described, “from his statue in brass at Rome, inscribed with Greek characters, which still stands opposite to the hippodrome, nigh to the great Apollo from Carthage.” As, however, the whole tenor of Plutarch’s life is laudatory, and for that gossiping anecdote-monger singularly correct and clear, we may take it as a fact that the nobility of his person was not unequal to that of his character; which I consider the finest recorded of any Roman general or statesman. “He is said,” continues the author,[7] I have already quoted, “to have been of a temperament impulsive and vehement both in his likings and dislikings, but with this distinction, that he was quick to wrath which quickly passed away, but prompt to kindness which endured to the end. He was very ambitious and very fond of glory, ever anxious to be the actor himself in the best and greatest deeds, and rejoicing in the acquaintance rather of those who needed benefits themselves, than of those who could confer them upon others, esteeming those as material for the promotion of his own virtue, these as rivals of his own glory.”