MANAGEMENT OF THEIR PUBLIC FEASTS.
Socrates having observed that in public suppers every one brought his own
dish of meat, and that sometimes some brought more and others less, was
wont, when this happened, to bid a servant set the least dish in the
middle of the table, and to give some of it to all the company. No man
could, in civility, refuse it, nor exempt himself from doing the like
with his own dish, insomuch that every man had a taste of the whole, and
all fared alike. This in some measure banished luxury and expensiveness
from these feasts. For they who would have laid out a great deal of
money in delicacies cared no longer to do so, because they would have
been as much for others as for themselves.
Being one day in these assemblies, and seeing a young man who ate his
meat without bread, he took occasion to rally him for it upon a question
that was started touching the imposing of names. "Can we give any
reasons," said he, "why a man is called flesh-eater--that is to say, a
devourer of flesh?--for every man eats flesh when he has it; and I do not
believe it to be upon that account that a man is called so." "Nor I
neither," said one of the company. "But," continued Socrates, "if a man
takes delight to eat his meat without bread, do you not take him to be,
indeed, a flesh-eater?" "I should think it difficult to find another who
better would deserve that name." Upon which somebody else taking the
word said, "What think you of him who, with a little bread only, eats a
great deal of flesh?" "I should," replied Socrates, "judge him, too, to
be a flesh-eater; and whereas others ask of the gods in their prayers to
give them an abundance of fruits, such men in their petitions it is
likely would pray only for abundance of flesh."
The young man whom Socrates had in mind, suspecting that he spoke upon
his account, took some bread, but continued still to eat a great deal of
flesh with it. Socrates perceived him, and showing him with his finger
to those that sat next to him, said to them, "Take notice of your
neighbour, and see whether it be the meat that makes him eat his bread,
or the bread that makes him eat his meat."
In a like occasion, seeing a man sop the same morsel of meat in several
sauces, he said, "Is it possible to make a sauce that will cost more, and
be not so good, as one that is made by taking out of several different
sauces at once? For there being more ingredients than usual, no doubt it
costs more; but then because we mix things together, which the cooks
never used to mingle, because they agree not well with one another, we
certainly spoil the whole; and is it not a jest to be curious in having
good cooks, and at the same time to be so fantastical as to alter the
relish of the dishes they have dressed? Besides, when we have once got a
habit of eating thus of several dishes at once, we are not so well
satisfied when we have no longer that variety. Whereas a man who
contents himself to eat but of one dish at a time finds no great
inconvenience in having but one dish of meat for his dinner."
He made likewise this remark: that to express what the other Greeks
called "to eat a meal," the Athenians said "to make good cheer;" and that
the word "good" shows us that we ought to eat such things only as will
neither disorder the body nor the mind, which are easily had, and
purchased without great expense. From whence he inferred that they alone
who live temperately and soberly can truly be said to make good
cheer--that is to say, to eat well.
BOOK IV.
CHAPTER I. THAT PERSONS OF GOOD NATURAL PARTS, AS WELL AS THOSE WHO HAVE
PLENTIFUL FORTUNES, OUGHT NOT TO THINK THEMSELVES ABOVE INSTRUCTION. ON
THE CONTRARY, THE ONE OUGHT, BY THE AID OF LEARNING, TO IMPROVE THEIR
GENIUS; THE OTHER, BY THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE, TO RENDER THEMSELVES
VALUABLE.
There was always, as we have already remarked, some improvement to be
made with Socrates; and it must be owned that his company and
conversation were very edifying, since even now, when he is no more among
us, it is still of advantage to his friends to call him to their
remembrance. And, indeed, whether he spoke to divert himself, or whether
he spoke seriously, he always let slip some remarkable instructions for
the benefit of all that heard him.
He used often to say he was in love, but it was easy to see it was not
with the beauty of one's person that he was taken, but with the virtues
of his mind.
The marks of a good genius, he said, were these--a good judgment, a
retentive memory, and an ardent desire of useful knowledge; that is to
say, when a person readily learns what he is taught, and strongly retains
what he has learnt, as also when he is curious to know all that is
necessary to the good government either of a family or of a republic; in
a word, when one desires to obtain a thorough knowledge of mankind and of
whatever relates to human affairs. And his opinion was that when these
good natural parts are cultivated as they ought, such men are not only
happy themselves, and govern their families prudently, but are capable
likewise to render others happy, and to make republics flourish.
On the one hand, therefore, whenever he met with any who believed
themselves men of parts, and for that reason neglected to be instructed,
he proved to them that men of the best natural parts are they who have
most need of instruction; and to this purpose he alleged the example of a
high-mettled horse, who, having more courage and more strength than
others, does us very great service, if he be broke and managed in his
youth; but if that be neglected, he grows so vicious and unruly that we
know not what to do with him. Thus also dogs of a good breed, and that
by nature are the most strong and mettlesome, are excellent for game, if
they are well taught; otherwise they are apt to become high rangers and
at no command. In like manner among men they who are blessed with the
greatest advantages of Nature, to whom she has given the most courage and
the greatest strength to enable them to succeed in their undertakings,
are likewise the most virtuous, and do more good than others, when they
meet with a good education; but if they remain without instruction they
fall into an excess of ill, and become most pernicious to themselves and
others. Merely for want of knowing their duty they often engage
themselves in very wicked designs; and being imperious and violent, it is
very difficult to keep them within bounds and to make them change their
resolution, which is the reason they do a great deal of mischief.
On the other hand, when he saw any of those men who pique themselves on
their estates, and who believe because they are men of high condition
that they are above instruction, or have no need of it, because their
riches alone are sufficient to gain them the esteem of the world, and to
make them succeed in all their undertakings, he endeavoured to convince
them of their error, and to show them that they, too, have need of
instruction. He told them that that man is a fool who imagines with
himself that he can know the things that are useful from those that are
hurtful, without having ever learnt the difference; or who, not
discerning between them, fondly thinks that because he has wherewithal to
buy whatever he has a mind to, he can therefore do whatever may lend to
his advantage; or who, judging himself incapable to do what is useful for
himself, thinks, nevertheless, that he is well in the world, and in a
safe and happy condition of life. That it is likewise a folly for a man
to persuade himself that, being rich and having no merit, he will pass
for a man of parts; or that, not having the reputation of being a man of
parts, he shall nevertheless be esteemed.
CHAPTER II. CONFERENCE BETWEEN SOCRATES AND EUTHYDEMUS, IN WHICH HE
CONVINCES THAT YOUNG MAN, WHO HAD A GREAT OPINION OF HIMSELF, THAT HE
KNEW NOTHING.
When Socrates, on the other hand, found any who soothe themselves up in
the belief that they are well instructed, and who boast of their own
sufficiency, he never failed to chastise the vanity of such persons. Of
his conduct in this particular I will relate the following instance--
He had been told that Euthydemus had bought up several works of the most
celebrated poets and sophists, and that this acquisition had so puffed
him up with arrogance, that he already esteemed himself the greatest man
for learning and parts of any of the age, and pretended to no less than
being the first man of the city, either for negotiating or for
discoursing in public. Nevertheless, he was still so young that he was
not admitted into the assemblies of the people, and if he had any affair
to solicit he generally came and placed himself in one of the shops that
were near the courts of justice. Socrates, having observed his station,
failed not to go thither likewise with two or three of his friends; and
there, being fallen into discourse, this question was started: Whether it
was by the improving conversation of philosophers or by the strength of
his natural parts only, that Themistocles surpassed all his countrymen in
wisdom and valour, and advanced himself to such a high rank and to so
great esteem, that all the Republic cast their eyes upon him whenever
their affairs required the conduct of a man of bravery and wisdom?
Socrates, who had a mind to reflect upon Euthydemus, answered that "a man
must be very stupid to believe that mechanic arts (which are
comparatively things but of small importance) cannot be learnt without
masters; and yet that the art of governing of States, which is a thing of
the greatest moment and that requires the greatest effort of human
prudence, comes of itself into the mind." And this was all that passed
in this first interview.
After this Socrates, observing that Euthydemus always avoided being in
his company, lest he should be taken for one of his admirers, attacked
him more openly; and once when he happened to be where he was, addressed
himself to the rest of the company in these words:--"Certainly,
gentlemen, by what may be conjectured from the studies of this young man,
it is very likely that when he shall have attained the age that permits
him to be present in the assemblies of the people, if any important
affair come to be debated there, he will not fail to give his judgment of
it; and in my opinion he would introduce his harangue by a very pleasant
exordium, if he should begin with giving them to understand that he had
never learnt anything of any man whatsoever; he must address himself to
them in words to this purpose:--
"'Gentlemen, I have never been taught anything, I never frequented the
conversation of men of parts, I never gave myself the trouble to look out
for a master that was able to instruct me. On the contrary, gentlemen, I
have not only had an aversion to learn from others, but I should even
have been very sorry to have it believed I had done so; nevertheless, I
will venture to tell you what chance shall suggest to me in this present
occasion.' At this rate they who present themselves to be received
physicians might introduce a like discourse as thus:--'Gentlemen, I have
never had any master to teach me this science; for, indeed, I would never
learn it, nor even have the repute of having learnt it; nevertheless,
admit me a physician, and I will endeavour to become learned in the art
by making experiments on your own bodies.'"
All the company fell a-laughing at this pleasant preface, and from that
time Euthydemus never avoided Socrates' company as he had done before;
but he never offered to speak, believing that his silence would be an
argument of his modesty. Socrates, being desirous to rally him out of
that mistaken notion, spoke to him in this manner:--
"I wonder that they who desire to learn to play upon the lute, or to ride
well, do not endeavour to learn it alone by themselves; but that they
look out for masters, resolved to do everything they bid them, and to
believe all they say, there being no other way to arrive at perfection in
those arts; and that they who hope one day to govern the Republic, and to
declaim before the people, imagine they can become fit to do so of
themselves all of a sudden. Nevertheless, it must be owned that these
employments are more difficult than the others, since among the great
number of persons who push themselves into office so few discharge their
duty as they ought. This shows us that more labour and diligence is
required in such as would capacitate themselves for those offices than
for anything else."
By these discourses, Socrates having prepared the mind of Euthydemus to
hearken to what he intended to say to him, and to enter into conference
with him, he came another time by himself into the same shop, and taking
a seat next to this young man--"I have heard," said he to him, "that you
have been curious in buying a great many good books." "I have," said
Euthydemus, "and continue to do so every day, designing to have as many
as I can get." "I commend you very much," said Socrates, "for choosing
rather to hoard up a treasure of learning and knowledge than of money.
For you testify by so doing that you are not of opinion that riches, or
silver and gold, can render one more valuable, that is to say, a wiser or
a better man; but that it is only the writings and precepts of the
philosophers and other fine writers that are the true riches, because
they enrich with virtue the minds of those that possess them." Euthydemus
was pleased to hear him say this, believing that he approved his method;
and Socrates, perceiving his satisfaction, went on: "But what is your
design of making a collection of so many books? Do you intend to be a
physician? There are many books in that science." "That is not my
design," said Euthydemus. "Will you be an architect, then?" said
Socrates, "for that art requires a learned man. Or do you study geometry
or astrology?" "None of them." "Do you mean to be a reciter of heroic
verses?" continued Socrates, "for I have been told that you have all
Homer's works." "Not in the least," answered Euthydemus, "for I have
observed that men of that profession know indeed a great many verses by
heart, but for anything else they are for the most part very
impertinent." "Perhaps you are in love with that noble science that
makes politicians and economists, and that renders men capable to govern,
and to be useful to others and to themselves?" "That is what I endeavour
to learn," said Euthydemus, "and what I passionately desire to know." "It
is a sublime science," replied Socrates; "it is that we call the royal
science, because it truly is the science of kings. But have you weighed
this point, whether a man can excel in that science without being an
honest man?" "I have," said the young man, "and am even of opinion that
none but honest men can be good citizens." "And are you an honest man?"
said Socrates. "I hope I am," answered Euthydemus, "as honest a man as
another." "Tell me," said Socrates, "can we know who are honest men by
what they do, as we know what trade a man is of by his work?" "We may."
"Then," said Socrates, "as architects show us their works, can honest men
show us theirs likewise?" "No doubt of it," replied Euthydemus; "and it
is no difficult task to show you which are the works of justice, and
which those of injustice, that we so often hear mentioned." "Shall we,"
said Socrates, "make two characters, the one (J) to signify justice, the
other (I) to denote injustice; and write under one of them all the works
that belong to justice, and under the other all that belong to
injustice?" "Do," said Euthydemus, "if you think fit."
Socrates, having done what he proposed, continued thus his discourse:--"Do
not men tell lies?" "Very often," answered Euthydemus. "Under which
head shall we put lying?" "Under that of injustice," said Euthydemus.
"Do not men sometimes cheat?" "Most certainly." "Where shall we put
cheating?" said Socrates. "Under injustice." "And doing wrong to one's
neighbour?" "There too." "And selling of free persons into slavery?"
"Still in the same place." "And shall we write none of all these," said
Socrates, "under the head of justice?" "Not one of them," answered
Euthydemus; "it would be strange if we did." "But what," replied
Socrates, "when a general plunders an enemy's city, and makes slaves of
all the inhabitants, shall we say that he commits an injustice?" "By no
means." "Shall we own, then, that he does an act of justice?" "Without
doubt." "And when he circumvents his enemies in the war, does he not do
well?" "Very well." "And when he ravages their land, and takes away
their cattle and their corn, does he not do justly?" "It is certain he
does," said Euthydemus; "and when I answered you that all these actions
were unjust, I thought you had spoken of them in regard only of friend to
friend." "We must, therefore," replied Socrates, "put among the actions
of justice those very actions we have ascribed to injustice, and we will
only establish this distinction, that it is just to behave ourselves so
towards our enemies; but that to treat our friends thus is an injustice,
because we ought to live with them uprightly, and without any deceit." "I
think so," said Euthydemus. "But," continued Socrates, "when a general
sees that his troops begin to be disheartened, if he make them believe
that a great reinforcement is coming to him, and by that stratagem
inspires fresh courage into the soldiers, under what head shall we put
this lie?" "Under the head of justice," answered Euthydemus. "And when
a child will not take the physic that he has great need of, and his
father makes it be given him in a mess of broth, and by that means the
child recovers his health, to which shall we ascribe this deceit?" "To
justice likewise." "And if a man, who sees his friend in despair, and
fears he will kill himself, hides his sword from him, or takes it out of
his hands by force, what shall we say of this violence?" "That it is
just," replied Euthydemus. "Observe what you say," continued Socrates;
"for it follows from your answers that we are not always obliged to live
with our friends uprightly, and without any deceit, as we agreed we
were." "No; certainly we are not, and if I may be permitted to retract
what I said, I change my opinion very freely." "It is better," said
Socrates, "to change an opinion than to persist in a wrong one. But
there is still one point which we must not pass over without inquiry, and
this relates to those whose deceits are prejudicial to their friends; for
I ask you, which are most unjust, they who with premeditate design cheat
their friends, or they who do it through inadvertency?" "Indeed," said
Euthydemus, "I know not what to answer, nor what to believe, for you have
so fully refuted what I have said, that what appeared to me before in one
light appears to me now in another. Nevertheless, I will venture to say
that he is the most unjust who deceives his friend deliberately." "Do
you think," said Socrates, "that one may learn to be just and honest, as
well as we learn to read and write?" "I think we may." "Which," added
Socrates, "do you take to be the most ignorant, he who reads wrong on
purpose, or he who reads wrong because he can read no better?" "The last
of them," answered Euthydemus; "for the other who mistakes for pleasure
need not mistake when he pleases." "Then," inferred Socrates, "he who
reads wrong deliberately knows how to read; but he who reads wrong
without design is an ignorant man." "You say true." "Tell me likewise,"
pursued Socrates, "which knows best what ought to be done, and what
belongs to justice, he who lies and cheats with premeditate design, or he
who deceives without intention to deceive?" "It is most plain," said
Euthydemus, "that it is he who deceives with premeditate design." "But
you said," replied Socrates, "that he who can read is more learned than
he who cannot read?" "I did so." "Therefore he who best knows which are
the duties of justice is more just than he that knows them not." "It
seems to be so," answered Euthydemus, "and I know not well how I came to
say what I did." "Indeed," said Socrates, "you often change your
opinion, and contradict what you say; and what would you yourself think
of any man who pretended to tell the truth, and yet never said the same
thing; who, in pointing out to you the same road, should show you
sometimes east, sometimes west, and who, in telling the same sum, should
find more money at one time than another; what would you think of such a
man?" "He would make all men think," answered Euthydemus, "that he knew
nothing of what he pretended to know."
Socrates urged him yet further, and asked him: "Have you ever heard say
that some men have abject and servile minds?" "I have." "Is it said of
them because they are learned or because they are ignorant?" "Surely
because they are ignorant." "Perhaps," said Socrates, "it is because
they understand not the trade of a smith?" "Not in the least for that."
"Is it because they know not how to build a house, or to make shoes?" "By
no means," said Euthydemus; "for most who are skilled in such professions
have likewise abject and servile minds." "This character, then," pursued
Socrates, "must be given to those who are ignorant of the noble sciences,
and who know not what is just nor what is honourable?" "I believe so."
"We ought, therefore, Euthydemus, to do all we can to avoid falling into
that ignominious ignorance that sinks us down so low." "Alas, Socrates!"
cried he out, "I will not lie for the matter; I thought I knew something
in philosophy, and that I had learnt whatever was requisite to be known
by a man who desired to make a practice of virtue; but judge how much I
am afflicted to see that, after all my labours, I am not able to answer
you concerning things which I ought chiefly to know; and yet I am at a
loss what method to pursue in order to render myself more capable and
knowing in the things I desire to understand." Upon this, Socrates asked
him whether he had ever been at Delphi, and Euthydemus answered that he
had been there twice. "Did you not take notice," said Socrates, "that
somewhere on the front of the temple there is this inscription, 'KNOW
THYSELF'?" "I remember," answered he, "I have read it there." "It is
not enough," replied Socrates, "to have read it. Have you been the
better for this admonition? Have you given yourself the trouble to
consider what you are?" "I think I know that well enough," replied the
young man, "for I should have found it very difficult to have known any
other thing if I had not known myself." "But for a man to know himself
well," said Socrates, "it is not enough that he knows his own name; for,
as a man that buys a horse cannot be certain that he knows what he is
before he has ridden him, to see whether he be quiet or restive, whether
he be mettlesome or dull, whether he be fleet or heavy--in short, before
he has made trial of all that is good and bad in him--in like manner, a
man cannot say that he knows himself before he has tried what he is fit
for, and what he is able to do." "It is true," said Euthydemus, "that
whoever knows not his own strength knows not himself." "But," continued
Socrates, "who sees not of how great advantage this knowledge is to man,
and how dangerous it is to be mistaken in this affair? for he who knows
himself knows likewise what is good for himself. He sees what he is able
to do, and what he is not able to do; by applying himself to things that
he can do, he gets his bread with pleasure, and is happy; and by not
attempting to do the things he cannot do, he avoids the danger of falling
into errors, and of seeing himself miserable. By knowing himself, he
knows likewise how to judge of others, and to make use of their services
for his own advantage, either to procure himself some good, or to protect
himself from some misfortune; but he who knows not himself, and is
mistaken in the opinion he has of his own abilities, mistakes likewise in
the knowledge of others, and in the conduct of his own affairs. He is
ignorant of what is necessary for him, he knows not what he undertakes,
nor comprehends the means he makes use of, and this is the reason that
success never attends his enterprises, and that he always falls into
misfortunes. But the man who sees clear into his own designs generally
obtains the end he proposes to himself, and at the same time gains
reputation and honour. For this reason, even his equals are well pleased
to follow his advices; and they whose affairs are in disorder implore his
assistance, and throw themselves into his hands, depending upon his
prudence to retrieve their affairs, and to restore them to their former
good condition. But he who undertakes he knows not what, generally makes
an ill choice, and succeeds yet worse; and the present damage is not the
only punishment he undergoes for his temerity. He is disgraced for ever;
all men laugh at him, all men despise and speak ill of him. Consider
likewise what happens to Republics who mistake their own strength, and
declare war against States more powerful than themselves; some are
utterly ruined, others lose their liberty, and are compelled to receive
laws from the conquerors."
"I am fully satisfied," said Euthydemus, "that a great deal depends on
the knowledge of oneself. I hope you will now tell me by what a man must
begin to examine himself." "You know," said Socrates, "what things are
good and what are bad?" "Indeed," answered Euthydemus, "if I knew not
that, I were the most ignorant of all men." "Then tell me your thoughts
of this matter," said Socrates. "First," said Euthydemus, "I hold that
health is a good and sickness an evil, and that whatever contributes to
either of them partakes of the same qualities. Thus nourishment and the
exercises that keep the body in health are very good; and, on the
contrary, those that cause diseases are hurtful." "But would it not be
better to say," replied Socrates, "that health and sickness are both good
when they are the causes of any good, and that they are both bad when
they are the causes of any ill?" "And when can it ever happen," said
Euthydemus, "that health is the cause of any ill, and sickness the cause
of any good?" "This may happen," answered Socrates, "when troops are
raised for any enterprise that proves fatal; when men are embarked who
are destined to perish at sea; for men who are in health may be involved
in these misfortunes, when they who, by reason of their infirmities, are
left at home, will be exempted from the mischiefs in which the others
perish." "You say true," said Euthydemus, "but you see, too, that men
who are in health are present in fortunate occasions, while they who are
confined to their beds cannot be there." "It must therefore be granted,"
said Socrates, "that these things which are sometimes useful and
sometimes hurtful are not rather good than bad." "That is, indeed, the
consequence of your argument," replied Euthydemus; "but it cannot be
denied that knowledge is a good thing; for what is there in which a
knowing man has not the advantage of an ignorant one?" "And have you not
read," said Socrates, "what happened to Daedalus for his knowing so many
excellent arts, and how, being fallen into the hands of Minos, he was
detained by force, and saw himself at once banished from his country and
stripped of his liberty? To complete his misfortune, flying away with
his son, he was the occasion of his being miserably lost, and could not,
after all, escape in his own person; for, falling into the hands of
barbarians, he was again made a slave. Know you not likewise the
adventure of Palamedes, who was so envied by Ulysses for his great
capacity, and who perished wretchedly by the calumnious artifices of that
rival? How many great men likewise has the King of Persia caused to be
seized and carried away because of their admirable parts, and who are now
languishing under him in a perpetual slavery?" "But, granting this to be
as you say," added Euthydemus, "you will certainly allow good fortune to
be a good?" "I will," said Socrates, "provided this good fortune
consists in things that are undoubtedly good." "And how can it be that
the things which compose good fortune should not be infallibly good?"
"They are," answered Socrates, "unless you reckon among them beauty and
strength of body, riches, honours, and other things of that nature." "And
how can a man be happy without them?" "Rather," said Socrates, "how can
a man be happy with things that are the causes of so many misfortunes?
For many are daily corrupted because of their beauty; many who presume
too much on their own strength are oppressed under the burden of their
undertakings. Among the rich, some are lost in luxury, and others fall
into the snares of those that wait for their estates. And lastly, the
reputation and honours that are acquired in Republics are often the cause
of their ruin who possess them." "Certainly," said Euthydemus, "if I am
in the wrong to praise good fortune, I know not what we ought to ask of
the Deity." "Perhaps, too," replied Socrates, "you have never considered
it, because you think you know it well enough.
"But," continued he, changing the subject of their discourse, "seeing you
are preparing yourself to enter upon the government of our Republic,
where the people are master, without doubt you have reflected on the
nature of this State, and know what a democracy is?" "You ought to
believe I do." "And do you think it possible," said Socrates, "to know
what a democracy or popular State is without knowing what the people is?"
"I do not think I can." "And what is the people?" said Socrates. "Under
that name," answered Euthydemus, "I mean the poor citizens." "You know,
then, who are the poor?" "I do," said Euthydemus. "Do you know, too,
who are the rich?" "I know that too." "Tell me, then, who are the rich
and who are the poor?" "I take the poor," answered Euthydemus, "to be
those who have not enough to supply their necessary expenses, and the
rich to be they who have more than they have occasion for." "But have
you observed," replied Socrates, "that there are certain persons who,
though they have very little, have nevertheless enough, and even lay up
some small matter out of it; and, on the contrary, there are others who
never have enough how great soever their estates and possessions are?"
"You put me in mind," said Euthydemus, "of something very much to the
purpose, for I have seen even some princes so necessitous that they have
been compelled to take away their subjects' estates, and to commit many
injustices." "We must, then," said Socrates, "place such princes in the
rank of the poor, and those who have but small estates, yet manage them
well, in the number of the rich." "I must give consent to all you say,"
answered Euthydemus, "for I am too ignorant to contradict you; and I
think it will be best for me, from henceforward, to hold my peace, for I
am almost ready to confess that I know nothing at all."
Having said this, he withdrew, full of confusion and self-contempt,
beginning to be conscious to himself that he was indeed a person of
little or no account at all. Nor was he the only person whom Socrates
had thus convinced of their ignorance and insufficiency, several of whom
never came more to see him, and valued him the less for it. But
Euthydemus did not act like them. On the contrary, he believed it
impossible for him to improve his parts but by frequently conversing with
Socrates, insomuch that he never left him, unless some business of moment
called him away, and he even took delight to imitate some of his actions.
Socrates, seeing him thus altered from what he was, was tender of saying
anything to him that might irritate or discourage him; but took care to
speak more freely and plainly to him of the things he ought to know and
apply himself to.
CHAPTER III. PROOFS OF A KIND SUPERINTENDING PROVIDENCE.--WHAT RETURNS
OF GRATITUDE AND DUTY MEN OUGHT TO MAKE TO GOD FOR HIS FAVOURS.--AN
HONEST AND GOOD LIFE THE BEST SONG OF THANKSGIVING OR THE MOST ACCEPTABLE
SACRIFICE TO THE DEITY.
As Socrates considered virtue and piety as the two grand pillars of a
State, and was fully persuaded that all other qualifications whatever,
without the knowledge and practice of these, would, instead of enabling
men to do good, serve, on the contrary, to render them more wicked and
more capable of doing mischief. For that reason he never pressed his
friends to enter into any public office until he had first instructed
them in their duty to God and mankind. But, above all, he endeavoured to
instil into their minds pious sentiments of the Deity, frequently
displaying before them high and noble descriptions of the Divine power,
wisdom, and goodness. But seeing several have already written what they
had heard him say in divers occasions upon this subject, I will content
myself with relating some things which he said to Euthydemus when I
myself was present.
"Have you never reflected, Euthydemus, on the great goodness of the Deity
in giving to men whatever they want?" "Indeed, I never have," answered
he. "You see," replied Socrates, "how very necessary light is for us,
and how the gods give it us." "You say true," answered Euthydemus, "and
without light we should be like the blind." "But because we have need of
repose they have given us the night to rest in; the night, which, of all
times, is the fittest for repose." "You are in the right," said
Euthydemus, "and we ought to render them many praises for it."
"Moreover," continued Socrates, "as the sun is a luminous body, and by
the brightness of his beams discovers to us all visible things, and shows
us the hours of the day; and as, on the contrary, the night is dusky and
obscure, they have made the stars to appear, which, during the absence of
the day, mark the hours to us, by which means we can do many things we
have occasion for. They have likewise made the moon to shine, which not
only shows us the hours of the night, but teaches us to know the time of
the month." "All this is true," said Euthydemus. "Have you not taken
notice likewise that having need of nourishment, they supply us with it
by the means of the earth? How excellently the seasons are ordered for
the fruits of the earth, of which we have such an abundance, and so great
a variety, that we find, not only wherewith to supply our real wants but
to satisfy even luxury itself." "This goodness of the gods," cried
Euthydemus, "is an evidence of the great love they bear to men." "What
say you," continued Socrates, "to their having given us water, which is
so necessary for all things? For it is that which assists the earth to
produce the fruits, and that contributes, with the influences from above,
to bring them to maturity; it helps to nourish us, and by being mingled
with what we eat, makes it more easily got ready, more useful, and more
delightful; in short, being of so universal an use, is it not an
admirable providence that has made it so common? What say you to their
having given us fire, which defends us from cold, which lights us when it
is dark, which is necessary to us in all trades, and which we cannot be
without in the most excellent and useful inventions of men?" "Without
exaggeration," said Euthydemus, "this goodness is immense." "What say
you, besides," pursued Socrates, "to see that after the winter the sun
comes back to us, and that proportionably as he brings the new fruits to
maturity, he withers and dries those whose season is going over; that
after having done us this service he retires that his heat may not
incommode us; and then, when he is gone back to a certain point, which he
cannot transgress, without putting us in danger of dying with cold, he
returns again to retake his place in this part of the heavens, where his
presence is most advantageous to us? And because we should not be able
to support either cold or heat, if we passed in an instant from one
extreme to the other, do you not admire that this planet approaches us
and withdraws himself from us by so just and slow degrees, that we arrive
at the two extremes without almost perceiving the change?" "All these
things," said Euthydemus, "make me doubt whether the gods have anything
to do but to serve mankind. One thing puts me to a stand, that the
irrational animals participate of all these advantages with us." "How!"
said Socrates, "and do you then doubt whether the animals themselves are
in the world for any other end than for the service of man? What other
animals do, like us, make use of horses, of oxen, of dogs, of goats, and
of the rest? Nay, I am of opinion, that man receives not so much
advantage from the earth as from the animals; for the greatest part of
mankind live not on the fruits of the earth, but nourish themselves with
milk, cheese, and the flesh of beasts; they get the mastery over them,
they make them tame, and use them to their great advantage in war and for
the other necessities of life." "I own it," said Euthydemus, "for some
of them are much stronger than man, and yet are so obedient to him, that
he does with them whatever he pleases."
"Admire yet further the goodness of the gods," said Socrates, "and
consider, that as there is in the world an infinite number of excellent
and useful things, but of very different natures, they have given us
external senses, which correspond to each of those sensible objects, and
by means of which senses we can perceive and enjoy all of them. They
have, besides, endued us with reason and understanding, which enableth us
to discern between those things that the senses discover to us, to
inquire into the different natures of things useful and things hurtful,
and so to know by experience which to choose and which to reject. They
have likewise given us speech, by means whereof we communicate our
thoughts to each other, and instruct one another in the knowledge of
whatever is excellent and good; by which also we publish our laws and
govern States. In fine, as we cannot always foresee what is to happen to
us, nor know what it will be best for us to do, the gods offer us
likewise their assistance by the means of the oracles; they discover the
future to us when we go to consult them, and teach us how to behave
ourselves in the affairs of life."
Here Euthydemus, interrupting him, said, "And indeed these gods are in
this respect more favourable to you than to the rest of mankind, since,
without expecting you to consult them, they give you notice of what you
ought or ought not to do." "You will allow, therefore, that I told you
true," said Socrates, "when I told you there were gods, and that they
take great care of men; but expect not that they will appear to you, and
present themselves before your eyes. Let it suffice you to behold their
works, and to adore them, and be persuaded that this is the way by which
they manifest themselves to men, for among all the gods that are so
liberal to us there is not one who renders himself visible to confer on
us his favours. And that Supreme God, who built the universe, and who
supports this great work, whose every part is accomplished in beauty and
goodness; He, who is the cause that none of its parts grow old with time,
and that they preserve themselves always in an immortal vigour, who is
the cause, besides, that they inviolably obey His laws with a readiness
that surpasses our imagination; He, I say, is visible enough in the so
many wondrous works of which He is author, but our eyes cannot penetrate
even into His throne to behold Him in these great occupations, and in
that manner it is that He is always invisible. Do but consider that the
sun, who seems to be exposed to the sight of all the world, does not
suffer us to gaze fixedly upon him, and whoever has the temerity to
undertake it is punished with sudden blindness. Besides, whatever the
gods make use of is invisible; the thunder is lanced from above, it
shatters all it finds in its way, but we see it not fall, we see it not
strike, we see it not return. The winds are invisible, though we see the
desolations they daily make, and easily feel when they grow boisterous.
If there be anything in man that partakes of the divine nature it is his
soul, which, beyond all dispute, guides and governs him, and yet we
cannot see it. Let all this, therefore, teach you not to neglect or
disbelieve the Deity, because He is invisible; learn to know His presence
and power from the visible effects of it in the world around you; be
persuaded of the universal care and providence of the all-surrounding
Deity from the blessings He showers down upon all His creatures, and be
sure to worship and serve this God in a becoming manner."
"I am sure," said Euthydemus, "I shall never derogate from the respect
due to the gods; and I am even troubled that every man cannot
sufficiently acknowledge the benefits he receives from them." "Be not
afflicted at that," said Socrates, "for you know what answer the Delphian
Oracle is wont to return to those who inquire what they ought to do in
order to make an acceptable sacrifice. 'Follow the custom of your
country,' says he to them. Now, it is a custom received in all places
for every man to sacrifice to them according to his power; and by
consequence there is no better nor more pious a way of honouring the gods
than that, since they themselves ordain and approve it. It is indeed a
truth that we ought not to spare anything of what we are able to offer,
for that would be a manifest contempt. When, therefore, a man has done
all that is in his power to do, he ought to fear nothing and hope all;
for, from whence can we reasonably hope for more, than from those in
whose power it is to do us the greatest good? And by what other way can
we more easily obtain it, than by making ourselves acceptable to them?
And how can we better make ourselves acceptable to them, than by doing
their will?"
This is what Socrates taught, and by this doctrine, which was always
accompanied with an exemplary devotion, he greatly advanced his friends
in piety.
CHAPTER IV. INSTANCES OF THE INVIOLABLE INTEGRITY OF SOCRATES.--HIS
CONVERSATION WITH HIPPIAS CONCERNING JUSTICE.
Concerning justice, it cannot be said that Socrates concealed his opinion
of it, for he plainly revealed his sentiments by his actions, as well in
public as in private, making it his business to serve every man, and to
obey the magistrates and the laws; insomuch, that as well in the army as
in the city, his obedience and uprightness rendered him remarkable above
all others. He fully discovered the integrity of his soul, when he
presided in the assemblies of the people; he would never pass a decree
that was contrary to the laws; he alone defended the cause of justice
against the efforts of the multitude, and opposed a violence which no man
but himself was able to resist. Again, when the Thirty commanded him
anything that was unjust, he did not obey them. Thus, when they forbid
him to speak to the young men, he regarded not their inhibition, and when
they gave orders to him, as well as to some other citizens, to bring
before them a certain man, whom they intended to put to death, he alone
would do nothing in it, because that order was unjust. In like manner
when he was accused by Melitus, though in such occasions others endeavour
to gain their judges by flatteries and ignominious solicitations, which
often procure them their pardon, he would not put in practice any of
these mean artifices that are repugnant to the laws, and yet he might
very easily have got himself acquitted, if he could have prevailed with
himself to comply in the least with the custom, but he chose rather to
die in an exact observance of the laws, than to save his life by acting
contrary to them, for he utterly abhorred all mean or indirect practices;
and this was the answer he gave to several of his friends who advised him
to the contrary.
Since I am now illustrating the character of Socrates with regard to
justice, I will, at the same time, relate a conversation I remember he
had with Hippias of Elis on that subject.
It was a long while that Hippias had not been at Athens; and being
arrived there, he happened to come to a place where Socrates was
discoursing with some persons, and telling them that if any one had a
mind to learn a trade, there wanted not masters to teach him; nay, that
if one would have a horse trained up there were persons enough to
undertake it; but that if one desired to learn to be a good man, or to
have his son, or any of his family taught to be so, it would be difficult
to know to whom to apply himself. Hippias rallying him, said:--"What!
Socrates, you are still repeating the same things I heard you say so long
ago." "Nay, more," replied Socrates, "and always upon the same subject;
but you, perhaps, being learned as you are, do not always say the same
thing upon the same subject." "Indeed," said Hippias, "I always
endeavour to say something new." "Is it possible," replied Socrates?
"Pray tell me if you were asked how many letters there are in my name,
and which they are, would you answer sometimes in one manner and
sometimes in another? Or if you were asked whether twice five be not
ten, would you not always say the same thing?" "In subjects like those,"
said Hippias, "I should be obliged to say the same thing as well as you;
but since we are upon the theme of justice, I believe I can now say some
things of it, against which, neither you nor any man else can make any
objection." "Good God!" cried Socrates, "what a mighty boast is here!
Upon my word, Hippias, you have made an admirable discovery! and you have
reason to value yourself upon it; for, let me tell you, if you can
establish one single opinion of justice, the judges will be no longer
divided in their sentiments, there will be no more quarrels, no more
suits at law, no more seditions among citizens, no more wars between
republics. Indeed, it much troubles me to leave you before you have
taught me this secret, which you say you have discovered." "I give you
my word," answered Hippias, "that I will tell you nothing of it, till you
have first declared your own opinion concerning justice; for it is your
old way to interrogate others, and then to laugh at them by refuting what
they have said; but you never make known your own opinions, that you may
not be obliged to give a reason for them." "Why do you lay this to my
charge," said Socrates, "since I am continually showing to all the world
what are the things I believe to be just?" "How do you show it?" said
Hippias. "If I explain it not by my words," answered Socrates, "my
actions speak it sufficiently; and do you think that actions deserve not
rather to be believed than words?" "Much rather," said Hippias, "because
many may say one thing, and do another; nay, we see that, in fact, many
who preach up justice to others are very unjust themselves; but this
cannot be said of a man whose every action is good, and that never in his
life did an unjust thing." "Have you known, then," said Socrates, "that
I have accused any man out of malice, that I have sown dissension among
friends, that I have raised seditions in the Republic; in short, that I
have committed any other sort of injustice?" "Not in the least," said
he. "Well, then," added Socrates, "do you not take him to be just who
commits no manner of injustice?" "It is plain, now,'" said Hippias,
"that you intend to get loose, and that you will not speak your mind
freely, nor give us an exact definition of justice. For all this while
you have only shown what just men do not, but not what they do." "I
should have thought," said Socrates, "I had given at once a good
definition, and a clear instance of justice, when I called it an aversion
from doing injustice. But since you will not allow it to be so, see
whether this will satisfy you: I say, then, that justice 'is nothing but
the observance of the laws.'" "You mean," said Hippias, "that to observe
the laws is to be just?" "Yes," answered Socrates. "I cannot comprehend
your thought," said Hippias. "Do you not know," pursued Socrates, "what
the laws in a State are?" "The laws," answered Hippias, "are what the
citizens have ordained by an universal consent." "Then," inferred
Socrates, "he who lives conformably to those ordinances observes the
laws; and he who acts contrary to them is a transgressor of the laws."
"You say true." "Is it not likewise true," continued Socrates, "that he
who obeys these ordinances does justly, and that he obeys them not does
unjustly?" "Yes." "But," said Socrates, "he who acts justly is just,
and he who acts unjustly is unjust?" "Without doubt." "Therefore," said
Socrates, "whosoever observes the laws is just, and whosoever observes
them not is unjust." "But how can it be imagined," objected Hippias,
"that the laws are a good thing, and that it is good to obey them, since
even they that made them mend, alter, and repeal them so often?" To this
Socrates answered, "When you blame those who obey the laws, because they
are subject to be abrogated, you do the same thing as if you laughed at
your enemies for keeping themselves in a good posture of defence during
the war, because you might tell them that the peace will one day be made:
and thus you would condemn those who generously expose their lives for
the service of their country. Do you know," added he, "that Lycurgus
could never have rendered the Republic of Sparta more excellent than
other States if he had not made it his chief care to incline the citizens
most exactly to observe the laws? This, too, is what all good
magistrates aim at, because a Republic that is obedient to the laws is
happy in peace, and invincible in war. Moreover, you know that concord
is a great happiness in a State. It is daily recommended to the people;
and it is an established custom all over Greece to make the citizens
swear to live in good understanding with one another, and each of them
takes an oath to do so. Now, I do not believe that this unity is exacted
of them, only that they might choose the same company of comedians, or of
musicians, nor that they might give their approbation to the same poets,
or all take delight in the same diversions, but that they may all
unanimously obey the laws, because that obedience is the security and the
happiness of the State. Concord, therefore, is so necessary, that
without it good polity and authority cannot subsist in any State, nor
good economy and order in any family.
"In our private capacity, likewise, how advantageous is it to obey the
laws? By what means can we more certainly avoid punishments, and deserve
rewards? What more prudent conduct can we observe, always to gain our
suits at law, and never to be cast! To whom should we with greater
confidence trust our estates or our children, than to him who makes a
conscience of observing the laws? Who can deserve more of his country?
whom can she more safely entrust with public posts, and on whom can she
more justly bestow the highest honours, than on the good and honest man?
Who will discharge himself better of his duty towards his father or his
mother, towards his relations or his domestics, towards his friends, his
fellow-citizens, or his guests? To whom will the enemy rather trust for
the observing of a truce, or for the performance of a treaty of peace?
With whom would we rather choose to make an alliance? To whom will the
allies more readily give the command of their armies, or the government
of their towns? From whom can we rather hope for a grateful return of a
kindness than from a man who strictly obeys the laws? and, by
consequence, to whom will men be more ready to do good turns, than to him
of whose gratitude they are certain? With whom will men be better
pleased to contract a friendship, and, consequently, against whom will
men be less inclined to commit acts of hostility, than against that
person who has everybody for his well-wisher and friend, and few or none
for his ill-wishers or enemies? These, Hippias, are the advantages of
observing the laws. And now, having shown you that the observance of the
laws is the same thing with justice, if you are of another opinion, pray
let me know it." "Indeed, Socrates," answered Hippias, "what you have
said of justice agrees exactly with my sentiments of it." "Have you
never heard," continued Socrates, "of certain laws that are not written?"
"You mean the laws," answered Hippias, "which are received all over the
earth." "Do you think, then," added Socrates, "that it was all mankind
that made them?" "That is impossible," said Hippias, "because all men
cannot be assembled in the same place, and they speak not all of them the
same language." "Who, then, do you think gave us these laws?" "The
gods," answered Hippias; "for the first command to all men is to adore
the gods." "And is it not likewise commanded everywhere to honour one's
father and mother?" "Yes, certainly," said Hippias. Socrates went
on:--"And that fathers and mothers should not marry with their own
children, is not that too a general command?" "No," answered Hippias,
"this last law is not a Divine law, because I see some persons transgress
it." "They observe not the others better," said Socrates; "but take
notice, that no man violates with impunity a law established by the gods.
There are unavoidable punishments annexed to this crime; but we easily
secure ourselves from the rigour of human laws, after we have
transgressed them, either by keeping ourselves hid, or defending
ourselves by open force." "And what is this punishment," said Hippias,
"which it is impossible for fathers, who marry with their own children,
to avoid?" "It is very great," said Socrates; "for what can be more
afflicting to men, who desire to have children than to have very bad
ones?" "And how do you know," pursued Hippias, "that they will have bad
children? What shall hinder them, if they are virtuous themselves, from
having children that are so likewise?" "It is not enough," answered
Socrates, "that the father and the mother be virtuous: they must,
besides, be both of them in the vigour and perfection of their age. Now,
do you believe, that the seed of persons who are too young, or who are
already in their declining age, is equal to that of persons who are in
their full strength?" "It is not likely that it is," said Hippias. "And
which is the best?" pursued Socrates. "Without doubt," said Hippias,
"that of a man in his strength." "It follows, then," continued Socrates,
"that the seed of persons who are not yet come to their full strength, or
who are past it, is not good." "In all appearance it is not." "In those
ages, then, we ought not to get children?" said Socrates. "I think so."
"Such, therefore, as indulge their lust in such untimely fruition will
have very weakly children?" "I grant they will." "And are not weakly
children bad ones?" "They are," said Hippias.
"Tell me, further," said Socrates, "is it not an universal law to do good
to those who have done good to us?" "Yes," said Hippias, "but many
offend against this law." "And they are punished for it," replied
Socrates, "seeing their best friends abandon them, and that they are
obliged to follow those who have an aversion for them. For are not they
the best friends who do kindnesses whenever they are desired? And if he
who has received a favour neglect to acknowledge it, or return it ill,
does he not incur their hate by his ingratitude? And yet, finding his
advantage in preserving their goodwill, is it not to them that he makes
his court with most assiduity?" "It is evident," said Hippias, "that it
is the gods who have ordered these things; for, when I consider that each
law carries with it the punishment of the transgressor, I confess it to
be the work of a more excellent legislator than man." "And do you
think," said Socrates, "that the gods make laws that are unjust?" "On
the contrary," answered Hippias, "it is very difficult for any but the
gods to make laws that are just." "Therefore, Hippias," said Socrates,
"according to the gods themselves 'to obey the laws is to be just.'"
This is what Socrates said on the subject of justice, and his actions
being conformable to his words, he from day to day created a greater love
of justice in the minds of those who frequented him.
CHAPTER V. OF THE MISCHIEFS OF INTEMPERANCE, AND THE ADVANTAGES OF
SOBRIETY.
I will now set down the arguments that Socrates used to bring his friends
to the practice of good actions, for being of opinion that temperance is
a great advantage to such as desire to do anything that is excellent, he
first showed them, by his way of living, that no man was more advanced
than himself in the exercise of that virtue; and in his conferences he
exhorted his hearers above all things to the practice of it, and his
thoughts being continually employed in the means of arriving to be
virtuous, he made it likewise the subject of all his discourses.
I remember that talking once with Euthydemus concerning temperance he
delivered himself to this effect:--"In your opinion, Euthydemus, is
liberty a very valuable thing?" "To be valued above all things,"
answered Euthydemus. "Do you believe that a man who is a slave to
sensual pleasures, and finds himself incapable of doing good, enjoys his
liberty?" "Not in the least." "You allow, then, that to do good is to
be free, and that to be prevented from doing it, by any obstacle
whatever, is not to be free?" "I think so," said Euthydemus. "You
believe, then," said Socrates, "that debauched persons are not free?" "I
do." "Do you believe likewise," continued Socrates, "that debauchery
does not only hinder from doing good, but compels to do ill?" "I think
it does." "What would you say, then, of a master who should hinder you
from applying yourself to what is honest, and force you to undertake some
infamous occupation?" "I would say he was a very wicked master,"
answered Euthydemus. "And which is the worst of all slaveries?" added
Socrates. "To serve ill masters," said Euthydemus. "Therefore,"
inferred Socrates, "the debauched are in a miserable slavery." "No doubt
of it." "Is it not debauchery, likewise," said Socrates, "that deprives
men of their wisdom, the noblest gift of the gods, and drives them into
ignorance and stupidity, and all manner of disorders? It robs them of
leisure to apply themselves to things profitable, while it drowns them in
sensual pleasures; and it seizes their minds to that degree that, though
they often know which is the best way, they are miserably engaged in the
worst." "They are so." "Nor can we expect to find temperance nor
modesty in a debauched person, since the actions of temperance and
debauchery are entirely opposite." "There is no doubt of it," said
Euthydemus. "I do not think neither," added Socrates, "that it is
possible to imagine anything that makes men neglect their duty more than
debauchery." "You say true." "Is there anything more pernicious to
man," said Socrates, "than that which robs him of his judgment, makes him
embrace and cherish things that are hurtful, avoid and neglect what is
profitable, and lead a life contrary to that of good men?" "There is
nothing," said Euthydemus. Socrates went on:--"And may we not ascribe
the contrary effects to temperance?" "Without doubt." "And is it not
likely to be true that the cause of the contrary effects is good?" "Most
certainly." "It follows, then, my dear Euthydemus," said Socrates, "that
temperance is a very good thing?" "Undoubtedly it is." "But have you
reflected," pursued Socrates, "that debauchery, which pretends to lead
men to pleasures, cannot conduct them thither, but deceives them, leaving
them in disappointment, satiety, and disgust? and have you considered
that temperance and sobriety alone give us the true taste of pleasures?
For it is the nature of debauchery not to endure hunger nor thirst, nor
the fatigue of being long awake, nor the vehement desires of love, which,
nevertheless, are the true dispositions to eat and drink with delight,
and to find an exquisite pleasure in the soft approaches of sleep, and in
the enjoyments of love. This is the reason that the intemperate find
less satisfaction in these actions, which are necessary and frequently
done. But temperance, which accustoms us to wait for the necessity, is
the only thing that makes us feel an extreme pleasure in these
occasions." "You are in the right," said Euthydemus. "It is this
virtue, too," said Socrates, "that puts men in a condition of bringing to
a state of perfection both the mind and the body, of rendering themselves
capable of well governing their families, of being serviceable to their
friends and their country, and of overcoming their enemies, which is not
only very agreeable on account of the advantages, but very desirable
likewise for the satisfaction that attends it. But the debauched know
none of this, for what share can they pretend to in virtuous actions,
they whose minds are wholly taken up in the pursuit of present
pleasures?" "According to what you say," replied Euthydemus, "a man
given to voluptuousness is unfit for any virtue." "And what difference
is there," said Socrates, "between an irrational animal and a voluptuous
man, who has no regard to what is best, but blindly pursues what is most
delightful? It belongs to the temperate only to inquire what things are
best and what not, and then, after having found out the difference by
experience and reasoning, to embrace the good and avoid the bad, which
renders them at once most happy, most virtuous, and most prudent."
This was the sum of this conference with Euthydemus. Now Socrates said
that conferences were so called because the custom was to meet and confer
together, in order to distinguish things according to their different
species, and he advised the frequent holding of these conferences,
because it is an exercise that improves and makes men truly great,
teaches them to become excellent politicians, and ripens the judgment and
understanding.
CHAPTER VI. SOCRATES' FRIENDS ATTAIN, BY FREQUENTING HIS CONVERSATION,
AN EXCELLENT WAY OF REASONING.--THE METHOD HE OBSERVED IN ARGUING SHOWN
IN SEVERAL INSTANCES.--OF THE DIFFERENT SORTS OF GOVERNMENT.--HOW
SOCRATES DEFENDED HIS OPINIONS.
I will show, in the next place, how Socrates' friends learnt to reason so
well by frequenting his conversation. He held that they who perfectly
understand the nature of things can explain themselves very well
concerning them, but that a man who has not that knowledge often deceives
himself and others likewise. He therefore perpetually conferred with his
friends without ever being weary of that exercise. It would be very
difficult to relate how he defined every particular thing. I will
therefore mention only what I think sufficient to show what method he
observed in reasoning. And, in the first place, let us see how he argues
concerning piety.
"Tell me," said he to Euthydemus, "what piety is?" "It is a very
excellent thing," answered Euthydemus. "And who is a pious man?" said
Socrates. "A man who serves the gods." "Is it lawful," added Socrates,
"to serve the gods in what manner we please?" "By no means," said
Euthydemus; "there are laws made for that purpose, which must be kept."
"He, then, who keeps these laws will know how he ought to serve the
gods?" "I think so." "And is it not true," continued Socrates, "that he
who knows one way of serving the gods believes there is no better a way
than his?" "That is certain." "And will he not be careful how he does
otherwise?" "I believe he will." "He, then, who knows the laws that
ought to be observed in the service of the gods, will serve them
according to the laws?" "Without doubt." "But he who serves the gods as
the laws direct, serves them as he ought?" "True, he does." "And he who
serves the gods as he ought is pious?" "There can be no doubt of it."
"Thus, then," said Socrates, "we have the true definition of a pious man:
He who knows in what manner he ought to serve the gods?" "I think so,"
said Euthydemus.
"Tell me further," continued Socrates, "is it lawful for men to behave
themselves to one another as they please?" "In nowise," answered
Euthydemus; "there are also certain laws which they ought to observe
among themselves." "And do they," said Socrates, "who live together
according to those laws, live as they ought?" "Yes." "And do they who
live as they ought live well?" "Certainly they do." "And does he who
knows how to live well with men understand well how to govern his
affairs?" "It is likely that he may." "Now, do you believe," said
Socrates, "that some men obey the laws without knowing what the laws
command?" "I do not believe it." "And when a man knows what he ought to
do, do you think he believes that he ought not to do it?" "I do not
think so." "And do you know any men who do otherwise than they believe
they ought to do?" "None at all." "They, then, who know the laws that
men ought to observe among themselves, do what those laws command?" "I
believe so." "And do they who do what the laws command, do what is
just?" "Most surely." "And they who do what is just are just likewise?"
"None but they are so." "We may, therefore, well conclude," said
Socrates, "that the just are they who know the laws that men ought to
observe among themselves?" "I grant it," said Euthydemus.
"And as for wisdom," pursued Socrates, "what shall we say it is? Tell me
whether are men said to be wise in regard to the things they know, or in
regard to those they do not know?" "There can be no doubt," answered
Euthydemus, "but that it is in consideration of what they know; for how
can a man be wise in things he knows not?" "Then," said Socrates, "men
are wise on account of their knowledge?" "It cannot be otherwise." "Is
wisdom anything but what renders us wise?" "No." "Wisdom therefore is
only knowledge?" "I think so." "And do you believe," said Socrates,
"that it is in the power of a man to know everything?" "Not so much as
even the hundredth part." "It is, then, impossible," said Socrates, "to
find a man who is wise in all things?" "Indeed it is," said Euthydemus.
"It follows, then," said Socrates, "that every man is wise in what he
knows?" "I believe so."
"But can we, by this same way of comparison, judge of the nature of
good?" "As how?" said Euthydemus. "Do you think," said Socrates, "that
the same thing is profitable to all men?" "By no means." "Do you
believe that the same thing may be profitable to one and hurtful to
another?" "I think it may." "Then is it not the good that is
profitable?" "Yes, certainly." "Therefore, 'what is profitable is a
good to him to whom it is profitable.'" "That is true."
"Is it not the same with what is beautiful? For, can you say that a body
or a vessel is beautiful and proper for all the world?" "By no means."
"You will say, then, that it is beautiful in regard to the thing for
which it is proper?" "Yes." "But tell me whether what is reputed
beautiful for one thing has the same relation to another as to that to
which it is proper?" "No." "Then 'whatever is of any use is reputed
beautiful in regard to the thing to which that use relates?'" "I think
so."
"And what say you of courage?" added Socrates. "Is it an excellent
thing?" "Very excellent," answered Euthydemus. "But do you believe it
to be of use in occasions of little moment?" "Yes; but it is necessary
in great affairs." "Do you think it of great advantage in dangers,"
continued Socrates, "not to perceive the peril we are in?" "I am not of
that opinion." "At that rate," said Socrates, "they who are not
frightened because they see not the danger are in nowise valiant." "There
is no doubt of it," said Euthydemus, "for otherwise there would be some
fools, and even cowards, who must be accounted brave." "And what are
they who fear what is not to be feared?" "They are less brave than the
others," answered Euthydemus. "They therefore," said Socrates, "who show
themselves valiant in dangerous occasions, are they whom you call brave;
and they who behave themselves in them unworthily, are they whom you call
cowards?" "Very right." "Do you think," added Socrates, "that any men
are valiant in such occasions except they who know how to behave
themselves in them?" "I do not think there are." "And are not they, who
behave themselves unworthily, the same as they who know not how to behave
themselves?" "I believe they are." "And does not every man behave
himself as he believes he ought to do?" "Without doubt." "Shall we say,
then, that they who behave themselves ill know how they ought to behave
themselves?" "By no means." "They, therefore, who know how to behave
themselves, are they who behave themselves well?" "They and no others."
"Let us conclude, then," said Socrates, "that they who know how to behave
themselves well in dangers and difficult occasions are the brave, and
that they who know not how to do so are the cowards." "That is my
opinion," said Euthydemus.
Socrates was wont to say, that a kingly government and a tyrannical
government were indeed two sorts of monarchy, and that there was this
difference between them; that, under a kingly government, the subjects
obeyed willingly, and that everything was done according to the laws of
the State; but that, under a tyrannical government, the people obeyed by
force, and that all the laws were reduced to the sole will of the
sovereign.
Concerning the other sorts of government, he said: That when the offices
of a Republic are given to the good citizens, this sort of State was
called aristocracy, or government of good men; when, on the contrary, the
magistrates were chosen according to their revenues, it was called a
plutocracy, or government of the rich; and when all the people are
admitted, without distinction, to bear employments, it is a democracy, or
popular government.
If any one opposed the opinion of Socrates, on any affair whatever,
without giving a convincing reason, his custom was to bring back the
discourse to the first proposition, and to begin by that to search for
the truth. For example: if Socrates had commended any particular person,
and any stander-by had named another, and pretended that he was more
valiant, or more experienced in affairs, he would have defended his
opinion in the following manner:--
"You pretend," would he have said, "that he of whom you speak is a better
citizen than the person whom I was praising. Let us consider what is the
duty of a good citizen, and what man is most esteemed in a Republic. Will
you not grant me, that in relation to the management of the public
revenue, he is in the highest esteem who, while he has that office, saves
the Republic most money? In regard to the war, it is he who gains most
victories over the enemies. If we are to enter into a treaty with other
States, it is he who can dexterously win over to the party of the
Republic those who before opposed its interests. If we are to have
regard to what passes in the assemblies of the people, it is he who
breaks the cabals, who appeases the seditious, who maintains concord and
unity among the citizens." This being granted him, he applied these
general rules to the dispute in question, and made the truth plainly
appear, even to the eyes of those who contradicted him. As for himself,
when he undertook to discourse of anything, he always began by the most
common and universally received propositions, and was wont to say, that
the strength of the argumentation consisted in so doing. And, indeed, of
all the men I have ever seen, I know none who could so easily bring
others to own the truth of what he had a mind to prove to them. And he
said that Homer, speaking of Ulysses, called him "the certain or never-
failing orator," because he had the art of supporting his arguments upon
principles that were acknowledged by all men.
CHAPTER VII. METHOD TO BE OBSERVED IN STUDY.--ARTS AND SCIENCES NO
FURTHER USEFUL, THAN THEY CONTRIBUTE TO RENDER MEN WISER, BETTER, OR
HAPPIER.--VAIN AND UNPROFITABLE KNOWLEDGE TO BE REJECTED.
I presume now, that what I have said has been a sufficient evidence of
the frankness and sincerity with which Socrates conversed with his
friends, and made known his opinions to them. It remains now that I
should say something of the extreme care Socrates showed for the
advancement of his friends, and how much he had at heart that they might
not be ignorant of anything that could be useful to them, to the end they
might not want the assistance of others in their own affairs. For this
reason, he applied himself to examine in what each of them was knowing;
then, if he thought it in his power to teach them anything that an honest
and worthy man ought to know, he taught them such things with incredible
readiness and affection; if not, he carried them himself to masters who
were able to instruct them. But he resolved within himself how far a
person who was well-educated in his studies ought to learn everything.
Thus for geometry he said, that we ought to know enough of it not to be
imposed upon in measure when we buy or sell land, when we divide an
inheritance into shares, or measure out the work of a labourer, and that
it was so easy to know this, that if a man applied himself ever so little
to the practice of such things, he would soon learn even the extent and
circumference of the whole earth, and how to measure it; but he did not
approve that a man should dive into the very bottom of this science, and
puzzle his brains with I know not what figures, though he himself was
expert in it, for he said he could not see what all those niceties and
inventions were good for, which take up the whole life of a man, and
distract him from other more necessary studies.
In like manner he was of opinion that a man should employ some time in
astronomy, that he might know by the stars the hour of the night, what
day of the month it is, and what season of the year we are in, in order
that we might know when to relieve a sentinel in the night, and when it
is best to venture out to sea, or undertake a journey, and, in short,
that we might know how to do everything in its proper season. He said
that all this was easily learnt by conversing with seamen, or with such
as go a-hunting by night, or others who profess to know these things; but
he dissuaded very much from penetrating farther into this science, as
even to know what planets are not in the same declination, to explain all
their different motions, to know how far distant they are from the earth,
in how long time they make their revolutions, and what are their several
influences, for he thought these sciences wholly useless, not that he was
ignorant of them himself, but because they take up all our time, and
divert us from better employments. In fine, he could not allow of a too
curious inquiry into the wonderful workmanship of the Deity in the
disposition of the universe, that being a secret which the mind cannot
comprehend, and because it is not an action acceptable to God to
endeavour to discover what He would hide from us. He held, likewise,
that it was dangerous to perplex the mind with these sublime
speculations, as Anaxagoras had done, who pretended to be very knowing in
them, for in teaching that the sun was the same thing as fire, he does
not consider that fire does not dazzle the eyes, but that it is
impossible to support the splendour of the sun. He did not reflect,
neither, that the sun blackens the sky, which fire does not; nor lastly,
that the heat of the sun is necessary to the earth, in order to the
production of trees and fruits, but that the heat of fire burns and kills
them. When he said, too, that the sun was only a stone set on fire, he
did not consider that a stone glitters not in the fire, and cannot last
long in it without consuming, whereas the sun lasts always, and is an
inexhaustible source of light.
Socrates advised, likewise, to learn arithmetic, but not to amuse
ourselves with the vain curiosities of that science, having established
this rule in all his studies and in all his conferences, never to go
beyond what is useful.
He exhorted his friends to take care of their health, and to that purpose
to consult with the learned; and to observe, besides, each in his own
particular, what meat, what drink, and what exercise is best for him, and
how to use them to preserve himself in health. For when a man has thus
studied his own constitution, he cannot have a better physician than
himself.
If any one desired to attempt or to learn things that were above the
power or capacity of human nature, he advised him to apply himself to
divination; for he who knows by what means the gods generally signify
their mind to men, or how it is they used to give them counsel and aid,
such a person never fails to obtain from the Deity all that direction and
assistance that is necessary for him.
CHAPTER VIII. BEHAVIOUR OF SOCRATES FROM THE TIME OF HIS CONDEMNATION TO
HIS DEATH.--HIS CHARACTER SUMMED UP IN A FEW WORDS.
To conclude: if, because Socrates was condemned to death, any one should
believe that he was a liar to say that he had a good demon that guided
him, and gave him instructions what he should or should not do, let him
consider, in the first place, that he was arrived to such an age that if
he had not died when he did, he could not have lived much longer; that by
dying when he did he avoided the most toilsome part of life, in which the
mind loses much of its vigour; and that in amends for it he discovered to
the whole world the greatness of his soul, acquired to himself an
immortal glory, by the defence he made before his judges, in behaving
himself with a sincerity, courage, and probity that were indeed
wonderful, and in receiving his sentence with a patience and resolution
of mind never to be equalled; for it is agreed by all that no man ever
suffered death with greater constancy than Socrates.
He lived thirty days after his condemnation, because the Delian feasts
happened in that month, and the law forbids to put any man to death till
the consecrated vessel that is sent to the Isle of Delos be come back to
Athens. During that time his friends, who saw him continually, found no
change in him; but that he always retained that tranquillity of mind and
agreeableness of temper which before had made all the world admire him.
Now, certainly no man can die with greater constancy than this; this is
doubtless the most glorious death that can be imagined; but if it be the
most glorious, it is the most happy; and if it be the most happy, it is
the most acceptable to the Deity.
Hermogenes has told me, that being with him a little after Melitus had
accused him, he observed, that he seemed to decline speaking of that
affair: from whence he took occasion to tell him that it would not be
amiss for him to think of what he should answer in his own justification.
To which Socrates replied: "Do you believe I have done anything else all
my life than think of it?" And Hermogenes asking him what he meant by
saying so? Socrates told him that he had made it the whole business of
his life to examine what was just and what unjust; that he had always
cherished justice and hated injustice, and that he did not believe there
was any better way to justify himself.
Hermogenes said further to him--"Do you not know that judges have often
condemned the innocent to death, only because their answers offended
them, and that, on the contrary, they have often acquitted the guilty?"
"I know it very well," answered Socrates; "but I assure you, that having
set myself to think what I should say to my judges, the demon that
advises me dissuaded me from it." At which Hermogenes seeming surprised,
Socrates said to him, "Why are you surprised that this God thinks it
better for me to leave this world than to continue longer in it? Sure,
you are not ignorant that I have lived as well and as pleasantly as any
man, if to live well be, as I take it, to have no concern but for virtue,
and if to live pleasantly be to find that we have made some progress in
it. Now, I have good reason to believe that this is my happy case, that
I have always had a steady regard for virtue, and made progress in it,
because I perceive that my mind, at this time, doth not misgive me, nay,
I have the sincere testimony of my conscience that I have done my duty;
and in this belief I strengthen myself by the conversation I have had
with others, and by comparing myself with them. My friends, too, have
believed the same thing of me, not because they wish me well, for in that
sense every friend would think as much of his friend, but because they
thought they advanced in virtue by my conversation.
"If I were to live longer, perhaps I should fall into the inconveniences
of old age: perhaps my sight should grow dim, my hearing fail me, my
judgment become weak, and I should have more trouble to learn, more to
retain what I had learnt; perhaps, too, after all, I should find myself
incapable of doing the good I had done before. And if, to complete my
misery, I should have no sense of my wretchedness, would not life be a
burden to me? And, on the other hand, say I had a sense of it, would it
not afflict me beyond measure? As things now stand, if I die innocent
the shame will fall on those who are the cause of my death, since all
sort of iniquity is attended with shame. But who will ever blame me
because others have not confessed my innocence, nor done me justice? Past
experience lets us see that they who suffer injustice, and they who
commit it, leave not a like reputation behind them after their death. And
thus, if I die on this occasion, I am most certain that posterity will
more honour my memory than theirs who condemn me; for it will be said of
me, that I never did any wrong, never gave any ill advice to any man; but
that I laboured all my life long to excite to virtue those who frequented
me."
This was the answer that Socrates gave to Hermogenes, and to several
others. In a word, all good men who knew Socrates daily regret his loss
to this very hour, reflecting on the advantage and improvement they made
in his company.
For my own part, having found him to be the man I have described, that is
to say, so pious as to do nothing without the advice of the Deity; so
just as never to have in the least injured any man, and to have done very
signal services to many; so chaste and temperate as never to have
preferred delight and pleasure before modesty and honesty; so prudent as
never to have mistaken in the discernment of good and evil, and never to
have had need of the advice of others, to form a right judgment of
either; moreover, most capable to deliberate and resolve in all sorts of
affairs, most capable to examine into men, to reprehend them for their
vices, and to excite them to virtue; having, I say, found all these
perfections in Socrates, I have always esteemed him the most virtuous and
most happy of all men; and if any one be not of my opinion, let him take
the pains to compare him with other men, and judge of him afterwards.