Each man's lot was of such a size as to supply a man with seventy medimni of barley, and his wife with twelve, and oil and wine in proportion; for thus much he thought ought to suffice them, as the food was enough to maintain them in health, and they wanted nothing more. It is said that, some years afterwards, as he was returning from a journey through the country at harvest-time, when he saw the sheaves of corn lying in equal parallel rows, he smiled, and said to his companions that all Laconia seemed as if it had just been divided among so many brothers.

IX. He desired to distribute furniture also, in order completely to do away with inequality; but, seeing that actually to take away these things would be a most unpopular measure, he managed by a different method to put an end to all ostentation in these matters. First of all he abolished the use of gold and silver money, and made iron money alone legal; and this he made of great size and weight, and small value, so that the equivalent for ten minae required a great room for its stowage, and a yoke of oxen to draw it. As soon as this was established, many sorts of crime became unknown in Lacedaemon. For who would steal or take as a bribe or deny that he possessed or take by force a mass of iron which he could not conceal, which no one envied him for possessing, which he could not even break up and so make use of; for the iron when hot was, it is said, quenched in vinegar, so as to make it useless, by rendering it brittle and hard to work?

After this, he ordered a general expulsion of the workers in useless trades. Indeed, without this, most of them must have left the country when the ordinary currency came to an end, as they would not be able to sell their wares: for the iron money was not current among other Greeks, and had no value, being regarded as ridiculous; so that it could not be used for the purchase of foreign trumpery, and no cargo was shipped for a Laconian port, and there came into the country no sophists, no vagabond soothsayers, no panders, no goldsmiths or workers in silver plate, because there was no money to pay them with. Luxury, thus cut off from all encouragement, gradually became extinct; and the rich were on the same footing with other people, as they could find no means of display, but were forced to keep their money idle at home. For this reason such things as are useful and necessary, like couches and tables and chairs, were made there better than anywhere else, and the Laconian cup, we are told by Kritias, was especially valued for its use in the field. Its colour prevented the drinker being disgusted by the look of the dirty water which it is sometimes necessary to drink, and it was contrived that the dirt was deposited inside the cup and stuck to the bottom, so as to make the drink cleaner than it would otherwise have been. These things were due to the lawgiver; for the workmen, who were not allowed to make useless things, devoted their best workmanship to useful ones.

X. Wishing still further to put down luxury and take away the desire for riches, he introduced the third and the most admirable of his reforms, that of the common dining-table. At this the people were to meet and dine together upon a fixed allowance of food, and not to live in their own homes, lolling on expensive couches at rich tables, fattened like beasts in private by the hands of servants and cooks, and undermining their health by indulgence to excess in every bodily desire, long sleep, warm baths, and much repose, so that they required a sort of daily nursing like sick people. This was a great advantage, but it was a greater to render wealth valueless, and, as Theophrastus says, to neutralise it by their common dining-table and the simplicity of their habits. Wealth could not be used, nor enjoyed, nor indeed displayed at all in costly apparatus, when the poor man dined at the same table with the rich; so that the well-known saying, that "wealth is blind and lies like a senseless log," was seen to be true in Sparta alone of all cities under heaven. Men were not even allowed to dine previously at home, and then come to the public table, but the others, watching him who did not eat or drink with them, would reproach him as a sensual person, too effeminate to eat the rough common fare.

For these reasons it is said that the rich were bitterly opposed to Lykurgus on this question, and that they caused a tumult and attacked him with shouts of rage. Pelted with stones from many hands, he was forced to run out of the market-place, and take sanctuary in a temple. He outstripped all his pursuers except one, a hot-tempered and spirited youth named Alkander, who came up with him, and striking him with a club as he turned round, knocked out his eye. Lykurgus paid no heed to the pain, but stood facing the citizens and showed them his face streaming with blood, and his eye destroyed. All who saw him were filled with shame and remorse. They gave up Alkander to his mercy, and conducted him in procession to his own house, to show their sympathy. Lykurgus thanked them and dismissed them, but took Alkander home with him. He did him no harm and used no reproachful words, but sent away all his servants and bade him serve him. Alkander, being of a generous nature, did as he was ordered, and, dwelling as he did with Lykurgus, watching his kind unruffled temper, his severe simplicity of life, and his unwearied labours, he became enthusiastic in his admiration of him, and used to tell his friends and acquaintances that Lykurgus, far from being harsh or overbearing, was the kindest and gentlest of men. Thus was Alkander tamed and subdued, so that he who had been a wicked and insolent youth was made into a modest and prudent man.

As a memorial of his misfortune, Lykurgus built the temple of Athene, whom he called Optilitis, for the Dorians in that country call the eyes optiloi. Some writers, however, among whom is Dioskorides, who wrote an 'Account of the Spartan Constitution,' say that Lykurgus was struck upon the eye, but not blinded, and that he built this temple as a thank-offering to the goddess for his recovery.

At any rate, it was in consequence of his mishap that the Spartans discontinued the habit of carrying staffs when they met in council.

XI. The Cretans call this institution of taking meals in common andreia, which means men's repast; but the Lacedaemonians call it phiditia, which can either be explained as another form of philia, friendship, putting a d for an l, from the friendly feelings which prevailed at them, or else because it accustomed them to frugality, which is called pheido. Possibly the first letter was an addition, and the word may have originally been editia, from edodé, food.

They formed themselves into messes of fifteen, more or less. Each member contributed per month a medimnus of barley, eight measures of wine, five minas' weight of cheese, and half as much of figs; and in addition to this a very small sum of money to buy fish and other luxuries for a relish to the bread. This was all, except when a man had offered a sacrifice, or been hunting, and sent a portion to the public table. For persons were allowed to dine at home whenever they were late for dinner in consequence of a sacrifice or a hunting expedition, but the rest of the company had to be present. This custom of eating in common lasted for very many years. When King Agis returned from his victorious campaign against the Athenians, and wished to dine at home with his wife, he sent for his share of the public dinner, and the polemarchs refused to let him have it. As next day, through anger, he did not offer the customary sacrifice, they fined him. Boys were taken to the public tables, as though they were schools of good manners; and there they listened to discourses on politics, and saw models of gentlemanly behaviour, and learned how to jest with one another, joking without vulgarity, and being made the subjects of jokes without losing their temper. Indeed, it was considered peculiarly Laconian to be able to take a joke; however, if the victim could not, he was entitled to ask that it should go no farther. As they came in, the eldest present said to each man, pointing to the door, "Through this no tale passes."

It is said that they voted for a new member of a mess in this manner. Each man took a piece of bread crumb and threw it in silence into a vessel, which a servant carried on his head. Those who voted for the new member threw in their bread as it was, those who voted against, crushed it flat in their hands. If even one of these crushed pieces be found, they rejected the candidate, as they wished all members of the society to be friendly. The candidate was said to be rejected by the kaddichus, which is their name for the bowl into which the bread is thrown.