This lamentation was rendered, to a large extent, by the women[111]. It must be regarded rather as a necessary form than as a genuine expression of woe. There were, of course, cases where real sorrow and affection called forth the tears and lamentations of thousands. Such a tribute to Timoleon’s character was paid by his countrymen, the Syracusans[112]. In the great majority of cases, however, this excessive grief was but a species of empty pageantry. Plato would have had wailing altogether forbidden, as being too common place, at the death of a priest[113]. In the earlier days, this fashionable excess grew to such an alarming extent that Solon was obliged to interfere by a law, to cut down these demonstrations. He forbade the survivors to tear themselves and ordered them to dispense with the hired mourners, whose lamentable notes were intended to excite sorrow[114]. He also commanded that no woman under sixty who was not at least a second cousin to the deceased should enter the house before the interment[115]. Charondas, the celebrated law-giver of Catana and Magna Graecia, made a law, which so far surpassed Solon’s in rigor as to forbid all lamentation. He thought it better that respect for the dead should be shown by decking their graves and otherwise keeping their memory green[116]. It is very unlikely, however that these laws had any permanent effect on the habits of the people. For a time, they may have checked excesses, but there certainly are many late proofs that this custom of violent and loud lamentation was long continued. We find all through the tragedies that the women still tear their hair[117], whenever any of their relations have left this life, and, wound their breasts[118], rip open their cheeks[117], and cry with sorrowful voices[119]. It is possible that the poets intended, in these passages, merely to portray the former customs, or, it might be, that the action is exaggerated to heighten the stage-effect; but, since there are many other proofs that these old barbarities remained in vogue outside the mimic life of the stage, it is unnecessary to speculate on the purpose of the dramatists. Lucian declares that the beating of the breasts, lacerating of the cheeks, pouring of ashes on the head and knocking the head upon the ground always occurred, so that the living were more to be pitied than the dead[120]. Again, we have in Plutarch’s consolatory letter to his wife, on the loss of their little girl, a severe invective against this practice in his time. His philosophy is worthy of the Christian era. “But since,” says he, “our little daughter afforded all our senses the sweetest and most charming pleasure, so we ought to cherish her memory, which will conduce in many ways, or rather manifold, more to our joy than to our grief.” Then, after praising his wife for not disfiguring herself or her maids, or indulging in any other dramatic expression of grief, he goes on to say: “For a virtuous