I propose to offer some remarks upon the bringing-up of [Sidenote: 1]
free-born children, as a means of securing soundness of character.
Perhaps the best starting-point is that at which they are brought into
existence.
Upon one who desires to become the father of reputable [Sidenote: B]
children I would urge that he should be careful as to his consort. She
must be no mistress or concubine. Base birth, whether on mother’s or
father’s side, is an indelible reproach. It sticks to a man all the days
of his life; it offers a handle to those who are minded to discredit or
vilify him; and it is a wise saying of the poet that
_When the foundation of a stock is laid
Amiss, needs must the issue be unhappy_.
A sure fund of confidence for facing the world lies therefore in
honourable birth, and this must be a first consideration with all who
are anxious for a right and proper procreation of children.
It is quite natural that those whose birth is of base metal which will
not bear scrutiny should tend to be weak-spirited and abject. The poet
is quite right in saying: [Sidenote: C]
_It slaves a man, stout-hearted though he be,
To know his mother or his father base._
It is no doubt equally the case that persons of distinguished parentage
become full of pride and self-assertion. Thus Themistocles’ son,
Diophantus, is reported to have said on many occasions and to many
persons that he had only to wish for a thing and the Athenian people
voted for it. ‘What he liked, [Sidenote: D] his mother liked; what his
mother liked, Themistocles liked; and what Themistocles liked, all
Athens liked.’
A most praiseworthy pride was that exhibited by the Lacedaemonians, when
they mulcted their own king Archidamus for condescending to marry a
woman of small stature, their plea being that he intended to provide
them with kinglets instead of kings.
In this connexion there is one observation which my predecessors also
have duly made. It is that those who approach their wives with a view to
offspring should do so either while wholly abstaining from wine or at
least after tasting it in moderation. [Sidenote: 2] This explains the
remark of Diogenes on seeing a youth in a state of mad excitement:
‘Young fellow, your father begat you when he was drunk.’
So much for the question of birth. We will now turn to that of
upbringing.
Speaking generally, we must say of virtue what it is customary to say of
the arts and sciences—that for right action three things must go
together, namely, nature, reason, and habit. By reason I mean
instruction; by habit I mean exercise. The [Sidenote: B] first elements
come from nature; progress, from instruction; the actual use, from
practice; the consummation, from all combined. In so far as any of these
is defective, character must necessarily be maimed. Nature without
instruction is blind; instruction without nature is futile; practice
without both is abortive. In farming, the soil must first be good; next,
the farmer must know his business; third, the seeds must be sound.
Similarly with education. Nature is the soil, the teacher is the farmer,
[Sidenote: C] the lessons and precepts are the seed. It may be
confidently asserted that all three were harmoniously blended in the
souls of those men whose renown is universal—Pythagoras, Socrates,
Plato, and others who have won imperishable glory.
Blest indeed, and divinely favoured, is the man on whom Heaven has
bestowed each and all. Yet it would be a great, or rather a total,
mistake to suppose that, when natural gift is defective, no right moral
instruction and practice will lead one to improve his faulty nature in
some attainable degree. For while neglect will ruin an excellent natural
gift, teaching will correct an inferior one. Be careless, and you miss a
thing, however easy: take pains, and you secure it, however difficult.
You have only to glance at a number of everyday facts in order
[Sidenote: D] to perceive how complete is the success of persistent
effort. Drops of water will hollow a rock; iron and bronze are worn away
by the touch of the hands; wood bent by pressure into a carriage-wheel
can never recover its original straightness. To straighten the curved
sticks used by actors is impossible, the unnatural form having become,
by dint of straining, stronger than the natural.
Nor are these the only examples to prove the efficacy of painstaking.
Instances are countless. Soil may be naturally [Sidenote: E] good; but
neglect it, and it becomes a waste. Indeed, the better it is by nature,
the more hopeless a wilderness will your neglect make of it. On the
other hand, it may be too hard and rugged; yet cultivation will speedily
cause it to produce excellent crops. Is there any tree which will not
grow crooked and cease to bear fruit if left untended, whereas, when
properly trained, it bears well and brings its fruit to perfection? Does
not bodily strength invariably become effete when you take your ease and
neglect to keep in good condition, whereas a feeble physique gains
immensely in strength through gymnastic and athletic exercise? Is there
any horse which a rider cannot render obedient by [Sidenote: F] a
thorough breaking-in, whereas, if left unbroken, it will prove
stiff-necked and full of temper?
But why dwell longer on such cases, when there are so many examples of
the most savage creatures being tamed and made amenable to hard work?
When a Thessalian was asked which of his countrymen were the gentlest in
manner, his answer was a good one: _Those who are giving up war._ But it
is useless to multiply instances. Character is long-standing habit, and
it would scarcely be beside [Sidenote: 3] the mark to speak of the
virtues of the mind as the virtues ‘of minding’.[56] One more
illustration, and we will dispense with further elaboration of the
subject. The Spartan legislator Lycurgus once took two puppies belonging
to the same parents and brought them up in entirely different ways. The
one he turned into a gluttonous good-for-nothing, the other into a keen
and capable hunting-dog. Subsequently he got the Lacedaemonians together
and said to them: ‘A great factor [Sidenote: B] in engendering virtue
consists of habit and education—of instruction in the conduct of life—as
I am about to prove to you here and now.’ He then brought forward the
two young dogs, put down directly in front of them a plate of food and a
hare, and let the dogs loose; whereupon the one darted after the hare,
while the other made for the plate. The Lacedaemonians, who were not yet
in the secret, failed to perceive the meaning of his demonstration,
until he told them: ‘Both these dogs come from the same parents, but the
difference in their education has turned the one into a glutton and the
other into a hunter.’
No more need be said of habit and conduct of life. We may [Sidenote: C]
proceed to the question of nurture.
In my opinion mothers should nurse their own children and offer them the
breast; for their nursing will be of a more sympathetic and painstaking
kind, since their love is from the heart, or, as the saying goes, ‘down
to the finger-tips,’ whereas the affection of professional nurses and
foster-mothers—who are paid for it—can only be spurious and factitious.
That it is the duty of the mother herself to suckle and nurse her
offspring is evident from the arrangement of nature, which has supplied
every animal after parturition with the necessary provision of milk.
Here Providence further shows its wisdom, inasmuch as it has furnished a
woman with a pair of breasts, [Sidenote: D] so that, even if she bears
twins, there may be a double source for them to draw upon. Moreover she
will by so acting become more tender and affectionate to her child. It
can, indeed, scarcely be otherwise; the connexion of nurse and nursling
is the means of raising affection to its highest pitch. One can see how
even a brute beast will yearn for its nursling, if you tear them apart.
If possible, then, the mother should endeavour to nurse the child
herself. But if—as may sometimes happen—she is prevented by physical
weakness, or if other children are speedily on the way, it is at least
desirable not to accept as foster-mother or nurse the first that offers,
but to choose the best possible. [Sidenote: E] To begin with, her
character should be Greek. It is as with the treatment of the body. As
soon as children are born, we have to mould their limbs in order that
they may grow straight and shapely. Similarly their characters ought to
be regulated from the first. For youth is supple and plastic, and it is
while the mind is still soft and yielding that it acts as a mould for
instruction, whereas it is always difficult to knead into shape
[Sidenote: F] anything hard. As it is in soft wax that we make the
impression of a seal, so it is in the minds of those who are still
little children that we imprint a lesson.
That great thinker Plato is right, it seems to me, in exhorting a nurse
to use discretion in the tales she tells to young children; otherwise
their minds may become infected from the first with folly and
corruption. It is also sound advice which the poet Phocylides gives in
the words:
_While yet but a child, it behoveth
To learn such deeds as are good._
Another point which we cannot afford to omit concerns the slave children
who are to serve the young master and to be brought up with him. Pains
must be taken, first, of course, that [Sidenote: 4] they shall be
well-behaved, but also that they shall talk Greek, and talk it with good
articulation. Otherwise, through rubbing against barbarians and bad
characters, he will pick up something of their vices. The proverb-makers
have good reason for saying: _If you have a lame man for a neighbour,
you will learn to limp._
When children reach the age to be put under a mentor, it becomes
especially necessary to take pains in the appointment of such a person.
Otherwise we shall have them entrusted to some uncivilized or rascally
fellow. What actually happens [Sidenote: B] is often in the highest
degree absurd. Respectable slaves are made into farmers, skippers,
traders, stewards, or money-lenders, while any low specimen who is found
to be a glutton and a tippler and of no use in any kind of business is
taken and put in charge of the sons. A fit and proper attendant should
possess the same qualities of mind as Phoenix, the attendant of
Achilles.
We now reach a topic more important and vital than any yet treated—that
of the right teachers for our children. The kind to be sought for are
those whose lives are irreproachable, whose characters are unimpugned,
and whose skill and experience [Sidenote: C] are of the best. The root
or fountain-head of character as a man and a gentleman lies in receiving
the proper education. As farmers put stakes beside their plants, so the
right kind of teacher provides firm support for the young in the shape
of lessons and admonitions, carefully chosen so as to produce an upright
growth of character.
As things are, the behaviour of some fathers is contemptible. Before
making inquiry as to the proposed teachers, they put their children into
the hands of frauds and charlatans, without knowing what they are about,
or, maybe, because they are not competent to judge. In the latter case
their behaviour is not so ridiculous, but there is another case in which
it is in the last degree absurd. I mean, when they know, either from
their own [Sidenote: D] observation or from the accounts of others, how
ignorant and [Sidenote: *] bad certain educators are, and yet entrust
their children to them. Sometimes this is because they cannot resist the
fawning of some obsequious flatterer; sometimes it is done to gratify
the whim of a friend. It would be just as reasonable for a sick man to
gratify a friend by rejecting the doctor whose science could save him,
and preferring the ignoramus who will kill him; or for a man to dismiss
the best ship’s-captain and appoint the worst, because a friend asked
for it. In the name of all that is sacred, can any one called a ‘father’
set the pleasing of [Sidenote: E] somebody who asks a favour above the
education of his children? There was good sense in a frequent saying of
famous old Socrates, ‘If it could be done, one ought to mount the
loftiest part of the city and shout: _Good people, what are you after?
Why in such deadly earnest about making money, while troubling so little
about the sons to whom you are to leave it?_’ We may add that the
conduct of such fathers is like that of a man who is anxious as to his
shoe, while his foot may look after itself. Many fathers go to such
lengths in the way of fondness for their money and [Sidenote: F] want of
fondness for their children, that, to avoid paying a larger fee, they
choose utterly worthless persons to educate their sons, their object
being an inexpensive ignorance. This reminds one of Aristippus and his
neat and witty repartee to a foolish father. Questioned as to what fee
he asked for educating the child, he replied, ‘Forty pounds.’ ‘Good
heavens!’ said the father: ‘What an extravagant demand! For forty pounds
I can buy a slave.’ ‘Very well,’ was the answer: ‘then you [Sidenote: 5]
will have two slaves—your son, and the one you buy.’
To put it shortly, it is surely absurd to train little children to
receive their food with the right hand, and to scold them if they put
out the left, and yet to take no precautions that they shall be taught
moral lessons of a sound and proper kind.
What the consequence is to these admirable fathers, when they bring up
their sons badly and educate them badly, is soon told. On coming of age
and taking rank as men, the sons show an utter disregard of a wholesome
and orderly life, and throw themselves headlong into low and irregular
pleasures. Then [Sidenote: B] at last, when it is of no use, and when
their wrongdoing has brought him to his wits’ end, the father repents of
having sacrificed his children’s education. Some of them take up with
toadies and parasites, wretched nondescripts who are the ruin and bane
of youth; others with haughty and expensive mistresses and strumpets,
whom they ransom from their employers. Some spend recklessly on
gormandizing; some are wrecked upon dice and carousals; some go so far
as to venture on the more daring vices—they commit adultery, and think
death not too much [Sidenote: C] to pay for a single pleasure. Had these
last studied philosophy, they would in all probability not have
succumbed to temptation of this kind. They would have been told of the
advice of Diogenes—who, however coarse in his language, is right in his
facts—‘Go to a brothel, my boy, and you will find that the [Sidenote: *]
expensive article is not a bit better than the cheap one.’
In brief, then, I assert—and it would be fairer to regard me as
repeating an oracle than as giving advice—that in these matters the one
and essential thing, the first, middle, and last, is a sound upbringing
and right education. It is this, I say, which leads to virtue and
happiness.
[Sidenote: D] Other blessings are on the human plane; they are slight
and not worth serious pursuit. Good birth is a distinction, but the boon
depends on one’s ancestors. Wealth is a prize, but its possession
depends on fortune, which often carries it off from those who have it
and bestows it on those who never hoped for it. Moreover, great wealth
is a target exposed to any rogue of a servant or blackmailer who is
minded to ‘aim a purse’ at it. And, worst of all, even the basest of men
have their share of it. Fame, again, is imposing, but uncertain. Beauty,
though greatly courted, is short-lived; health, though highly prized, is
unstable; strength is a thing to be envied, but it falls an easy prey to
disease and age. Let us tell any one who prides himself [Sidenote: E] on
his bodily strength that he is manifestly under a delusion. How small a
fraction is human strength of the might of other animals, such as the
elephant, the bull, and the lion!
Meanwhile culture is the only thing in us that is immortal and divine.
In the nature of man there are two sovereign elements—understanding and
reason. It is the place of the understanding to direct the reason and of
the reason to serve the understanding. Fortune cannot overcome them,
calumny cannot rob us of them, disease cannot corrupt them, old age
cannot impair them. The understanding is the only thing that renews its
youth as it grows old, and, while time carries off everything else, it
brings old age one gift—that of knowledge. When, again, war comes like a
torrent, tearing and sweeping everything away, it is of our mental
culture alone that it cannot rob us. Stilpo, the Megarian philosopher,
made what seems a memorable answer when Demetrius, after enslaving the
city and razing it to the ground, asked him if he had lost anything. ‘O
no!’ said he, ‘for virtue is not made spoil of war.’ The reply of
Socrates is evidently to the same tune and purpose. [Sidenote: 6] It was
Gorgias, I believe, who asked him his opinion of the Great King, and
whether he considered him happy. ‘I have no knowledge,’ said Socrates,
‘as to the state of his character and culture.’ He assumed that
happiness depended upon these, and not upon the gifts of fortune.
Not only should the education of our children be treated as of the very
first importance, but I once more urge that we should insist upon its
being of the sound and genuine kind. From pretentious nonsense our sons
should be kept as far aloof [Sidenote: B] as possible. To please the
many is to displease the wise, an assertion in which I have the support
of Euripides:
_I am not deft of words before the crowd,
More skilled when with my compeers and the few.
’Tis compensation: they who ‘mid the wise
Are naught, surpass in gift of speech to mobs._
My own observation tells me that persons who make a business of speaking
in a way to please and curry favour with the rabble, generally prove
correspondingly dissolute and pleasure-loving in their lives. Nor,
indeed, should we expect anything else; for if they have no regard to
propriety when catering for the [Sidenote: C] gratification of other
people, it is not likely that they will permit right and sound
principles to have the upper hand of their own voluptuous
self-indulgence, nor that they will cultivate self-control rather than
enjoyment.
[Sidenote: *] And how can children learn from them anything admirable?
Among admirable things is the practice of neither saying nor doing
anything at random; and, as the proverb goes, ‘admirable things are
difficult.’ Meanwhile, speeches made offhand are a mass of reckless
slovenliness, without a notion where to begin or where to end.
Apart from other faults, extempore speakers drop into a terrible
prolixity and verbiage, whereas premeditation keeps [Sidenote: D] a
speech safe within the lines of due proportion. When Pericles, ‘as
tradition informs us,’ was called upon by the assembly, he frequently
refused the call, on the ground that his thoughts were ‘not arranged’.
Demosthenes, who took him for his own political model, acted in the same
way. If the Athenians called upon him to address them, he would resist,
with the words, ‘I have not arranged my thoughts.’ This, it is true, may
be unauthentic and a fabrication; but in the speech against Meidias we
have an explicit statement as to the advantage of preparation. His words
are: ‘_I admit, gentlemen, that I come prepared; and I have no wish to
deny it. I have even conned over my speech to the best of my poor
ability. It would have been insane conduct, if, after and amid such
harsh treatment, I had paid no regard to what I meant to say to you on
the subject._’
That impromptu speaking should be rejected altogether, or, [Sidenote: E]
failing this, that it should be practised only on unimportant subjects,
I do not say. I am recommending a tonic regimen. Before manhood, I claim
that there should be no speaking on the spur of the moment. But when the
ability has taken firm root, it is only right for speech to enjoy free
play as occasion invites. Though persons who have been in prison for a
long time may subsequently be liberated, they are unsteady on their
feet, [Sidenote: F] a protracted habit of wearing chains making them
unable to step out. Similarly if those who have for a long time kept
their speaking under close constraint some day find it necessary to
speak offhand, they nevertheless retain the same style of expression.
But to let mere children make extempore speeches is to become
responsible for the worst of twaddle and futility. There is a story of a
wretched painter who showed Apelles a picture, with the remark, ‘I have
just painted this at one [Sidenote: 7] sitting.’ ‘I can see,’ said
Apelles, ‘without your telling me, that it has been quick work. But my
wonder is that you haven’t painted more than one as good.’
While (to return to the original matter in hand) we must be careful to
avoid a style which is theatrical and bombastic, we must be equally on
our guard against one which is low and trivial. If the turgid style is
unbusinesslike, too thin a style is ineffective. Just as the body should
be not only healthy but also in good condition, so language must be full
of strength [Sidenote: B] and not simply free from disease. Keep on the
safe side, and you are merely commended: face some risk, and you are
admired. I take the same view of the mental disposition also. One should
neither be over-bold, and so become brazen, nor yet timid and bashful,
and so become mean-spirited. The rule of art and taste is _The middle
course in all things_.
[Sidenote: *] While I am still upon the subject of this part of
education there is an opinion which I desire to express. A style
consisting of single clauses I regard in the first instance as no slight
evidence of poor taste, and, in the next, as too finical a thing ever to
[Sidenote: C] be maintained in practice. Here, as in everything else
that caters for ear or eye, monotony is as cloying and irksome as
variety is delightful.
There is no subject in the ‘regular curriculum’ of which the eye or ear
of a freeborn boy should be permitted to remain uninformed. But while he
receives a cursory education in those subjects in order to taste their
quality, the most important place—complete all-round proficiency being
impossible—must belong to philosophy. We may explain by a comparison
with [Sidenote: D] travel, in which it is an excellent thing to visit a
large number of cities, but good policy to settle in the best. As the
philosopher Bion wittily remarked, when the suitors could obtain no
access to Penelope they satisfied themselves with her handmaids, and
when a man is unable to get hold of philosophy he makes dry bones of
himself upon the remaining subjects, which are of no account.
Philosophy, then, should be put at the head of all mental culture. The
services which have been invented for the care of the body are
two—medicine and gymnastics—the one imparting health, the other good
condition. But for the weaknesses and ailments of the soul philosophy is
the only thing to be prescribed. It is from and with philosophy that we
can tell what is becoming or disgraceful, what is just or unjust,
[Sidenote: E] what course, in short, is to be chosen or shunned. It
teaches us how to behave towards the Gods, our parents, our elders, the
laws, our rulers, friends, wives, children, and servants: that we should
worship the Gods, honour our parents, respect our elders, obey the laws,
give way to our rulers, love our friends, be continent towards our
wives, show affection to our children, and abstain from cruelty to our
slaves. Above all, it warns us against excess of joy when prosperous and
excess of grief when unfortunate; against dissoluteness in our
pleasures, or fury and brutality in our anger. These I judge to be chief
among [Sidenote: F] the blessings conferred by philosophy. To bear
adversity nobly is to act the brave man,[57] to bear prosperity
unassumingly, the [Sidenote: *] modest mortal. To get the better of
pleasures by reason needs wisdom; to master anger requires no ordinary
character.
Perfect men I take to be those who can blend practical ability
[Sidenote: 8] with philosophy, and who can achieve both of two best and
greatest ends—the life of public utility as men of affairs, and the calm
and tranquil life as students of philosophy. For there are three kinds
of life: the life of action, the life of thought, and the life of
enjoyment. When life is dissolute and enslaved to pleasure, it is mean
and animal; when it is all thought and fails to act, it is futile; when
it is all action and destitute of philosophy, it is crude and
blundering. We should therefore do our best to engage both in public
business and in the pursuit [Sidenote: B] of philosophy, as occasion
offers. Of this kind was the public career of Pericles, of Archytas of
Tarentum, of Dion of Syracuse, and of Epaminondas of Thebes. Of these
Dion actually attached himself to Plato as his pupil.
There is no need, I think, to deal at any greater length with mental
cultivation. It is, however, further desirable—or rather it is
essential—that we should not neglect to possess the standard treatises,
but should collect a stock of them, with the result of keeping our
knowledge from starvation.[58] Farmers stock [Sidenote: *] [their
fertilizers], and the employment of books is instrumental to culture in
the same way.
[Sidenote: C] Meanwhile we must not omit to exercise the body also. Our
boys must be sent to the teacher of gymnastics and receive a sufficient
amount of physical training, both to secure a good carriage and also to
develop strength. Good condition is the foundation laid in childhood for
a hale old age, and, just as our preparations for wintry weather should
be made while it is fine, so we should store up provision for age in the
shape of regular and temperate behaviour in youth. Physical exertion
should, however, be so regulated that a boy does not become too
exhausted to devote himself sufficiently to mental culture. [Sidenote:
D] As Plato observes, sleep and weariness are the enemies of study.
Upon this topic I need not dwell, but will pass on at once to the most
important consideration of all—the necessity of training a boy for
service as a fighting-man. For this he must go through hard drill in
hurling the javelin, in shooting with the bow, and in hunting. ‘The
goods of the vanquished,’ it has been said, ‘are prizes offered to the
victor.’ There is no place in war for the physical condition of the
cloister, and a lean soldier accustomed to warlike exercises will break
through [Sidenote: *] a phalanx of fleshy prize-fighters.
[Sidenote: E] ‘Well but,’ some one may urge, ‘while you promised us a
set of rules for the upbringing of free men, it turns out that you have
nothing to say concerning that of poor and common people, but are
satisfied to confine your suggestions to the rich.’ There is a ready
reply to the objection. If possible, I should desire the proposed
education to be applicable to all alike. But if there are cases in which
limited private circumstances make it impossible to carry my rules into
practice, the blame should be laid upon fortune, not upon him who offers
the advice. Though a man is poor, he should make every possible effort
to bring up his children in the ideal way. Failing this, he must come as
near to it as he can.
After thus encumbering our discussion with this side-issue, [Sidenote:
F] I will now proceed with the connected account of such other
[Sidenote: *] matters as contribute to the right upbringing of the
young.
And first, children should be led into right practices of persuasion and
reasoning: flogging and bodily injury should be out of the question.
Such treatment is surely more fit for slaves than for the free, whom the
smart, or even the humiliation, of a beating deprives of all life and
spirit, making their tasks a horror to them. The freeborn find praise a
more effective [Sidenote: 9] stimulus to the right conduct, and blame a
more effective deterrent from the wrong, than any kind of bodily
assault. In the use of such praise and reprimand there should be a
subtle alternation. When a child is too bold, it should first be shamed
by reproof and then encouraged by a word of praise. We may take a
pattern by nurses, who may have to make an infant cry, but who
afterwards comfort it by offering it the breast. We must, however, avoid
puffing children up with eulogies, the consequence of excessive praise
being vanity and conceit.
I have noticed more than one instance in which the over-fondness
[Sidenote: B] of a father has proved to be a lack of fondness. To make
my meaning clear, I will use an illustration. Being in too great haste
for their children to take first place in everything, they impose
extravagant tasks, which prove too great for their strength and end in
failure, besides causing them such weariness and distress that they
refuse to submit patiently to instruction. Water in moderation will make
a plant grow, while a flood of water will choke it. In the same way the
mind will thrive under [Sidenote: C] reasonably hard work, but will
drown if the work is excessive. We must therefore allow children
breathing-time from perpetual tasks, and remember that all our life
there is a division of relaxation and effort. Hence the existence of
sleep as well as waking, of peace as well as war, of fine weather as
well as bad, of holidays as well as business. In a word, it is rest that
seasons toil. The fact is obvious, not merely in the case of living
things, but in that of the inanimate world. We loosen a bow or a lyre,
so that we may be able to tighten it. In fine, the body is kept sound by
want and its satisfaction, the mind by relaxation and labour.
[Sidenote: D] There are some fathers who have a culpable way of
entrusting their sons to attendants and teachers, and then entirely
omitting to keep the instruction of such persons under their own eye or
ear. This is a most serious failure in their duty. Every few days they
should personally examine their children, instead of confiding in the
character of a hireling, whose attention to his pupils will be more
conscientious if he is to be brought continually to book. In this
connexion there is aptness in the groom’s dictum that _nothing is so
fattening to a horse as the eye of the king_.
[Sidenote: E] Above all things one should train and exercise a child’s
memory. Memory serves as the storehouse of culture, and hence the fable
that Recollection is the mother of the Muses—an indirect way of saying
that memory is the best thing in the world to beget and foster wisdom.
Whether children are naturally gifted with a good memory, or, on the
contrary, are naturally forgetful, the memory should be trained in
either case. The natural advantage will be strengthened, or the natural
shortcoming made up. The former class will excel others, the latter will
excel themselves. As Hesiod well puts it: [Sidenote: F]
_If to the thing that is little you further add but a little,
And do the same oft and again, full soon it becometh a great thing._
This, then, is another fact for fathers to recognize—that the mnemonic
element in education plays a most important part, not only in culture,
but also in the business of life, inasmuch as the recollection of past
experience serves as a guide to wise policy for the future.
Our sons must also be kept from the use of foul language. ‘The word,’
says Democritus, ‘is the shadow of the deed.’ More than that, we must
render them polite and courteous, [Sidenote: 10] for there is nothing so
detestable as a boorish character. One way in which children may avoid
becoming disagreeable to their company is by refraining from absolute
stubbornness in discussion. Credit is to be gained not merely by
victory, but also by knowing how to accept defeat where victory is
harmful. There is unquestionably such a thing as a ‘Cadmean victory’. _À
propos_ I may quote the testimony of that wise poet Euripides:
[Sidenote: B]
_When two men speak, and one is full of anger,
Wiser the one who strives not to reply._
This is the time to remember certain other habits quite as necessary—and
more so—for the young to cultivate as any yet mentioned. These are
modesty of behaviour, restraint of the tongue, mastery of the temper,
and control of the hands. Let us see how important each of them is. We
may take an illustration to bring home the notion more clearly. And we
will begin with the last. There have been those who, by lowering their
hands to ill-gotten gains, have thrown away all the reputation won by
their previous career. This was the case with the Lacedaemonian,
Gylippus, who was driven into exile from Sparta [Sidenote: C] for
secretly broaching the money-bags. Absence of anger, again, is a quality
of wisdom. Socrates once received a kick from a very impudent and gross
young buffoon, but on seeing that his own friends were in such a violent
state of indignation that they wanted to prosecute him, he remarked: ‘If
a donkey had kicked me, would you have condescended to kick him back?’
The fellow did not, however, get off scot-free, but finding himself
universally reproached and nicknamed ‘Kicker’, he hanged himself. When
Aristophanes brought out the _Clouds_, and poured all manner of abuse
upon Socrates, one of those present asked: ‘Pray, are you not indignant
at his ridiculing you in this manner?’ [Sidenote: D] ‘Not I, indeed,’
replied Socrates; ‘this banter in the theatre is only in a big convivial
party.’ A close counterpart of this attitude will be found in the
behaviour of Plato and of Archytas of Tarentum. When the latter, on his
return from the war in which he had held command, found that his land
had gone out of cultivation, he summoned his manager and remarked: ‘You
would have suffered for this, if I had not been too angry.’ When Plato,
again, was once worked into a passion with a greedy and impudent slave,
he called his sister’s son Speusippus and said, ‘Go and give this fellow
a thrashing: I am myself in a great passion.’
But, it may be argued, it is difficult to reach so high a standard
[Sidenote: E] as this. I am well aware of it. We can therefore only do
our best to take a pattern by such conduct, and minimize any tendency to
ungovernable rage. As in other matters, we are no match for either the
moral mastery or the finished character of those great models.
Nevertheless we may act towards them as we might towards the Gods,
serving as hierophants and torch-bearers of their wisdom and
endeavouring to imitate in our nibbling way as much as lies in our
power.
As for the control of the tongue—the remaining point to be considered
according to our promise—any one who regards it as of trivial moment is
very much in the wrong. In a timely [Sidenote: F] silence there is a
wisdom superior to any speech. It is apparently for this reason that men
in old times invented our mystic rites and ceremonies. The notion was
that, through being trained to silence in connexion with these, we
should secure the keeping of human secrets by carrying into them the
same religious fear. Moreover, though multitudes have repented of
talking, no man has repented of silence, and while it is easy to utter
what has been kept back, it is impossible to recall what has been
uttered.
My own reading affords countless instances of the greatest disasters
resulting from an ungoverned tongue. I will content [Sidenote: 11]
myself with mentioning one or two typical examples. When, upon the
marriage of Philadelphus with his sister, Sotades composed a scurrilous
verse, he paid ample atonement for talking out of season by rotting for
a long time in prison. He thus purchased a laugh in others by long
weeping of his own. The [Sidenote: *] story is closely matched by that
of the sophist Theocritus, who endured similar, but much more terrible,
consequences for a similar remark. Alexander had ordered the Greeks to
provide a stock of purple garments, with a view to the thanksgiving
[Sidenote: B] sacrifice on his return from his Persian victories, and
the various peoples were contributing at so much per head. Hereupon
Theocritus observed: ‘I have now become clear upon a point which used to
puzzle me. This is what is meant by Homer’s “purple death”‘—words which
earned him the enmity of Alexander. Antigonus, the Macedonian king, had
but one eye, and Theocritus made him excessively angry by a taunt at
this disfigurement. Eutropion, the chief cook, who had become a person
of importance, was sent to him by the king with a request that he would
come to court and engage him in argument. On receiving repeated visits
from Eutropion with this message, he [Sidenote: C] remarked, ‘I am well
aware that you want to dish me up raw to the Cyclops,’ thus twitting the
one with being disfigured, the other with being a cook. ‘Then,’ replied
Eutropion, ‘it will be without your head, for you shall be punished for
such mad and reckless language.’ Thereupon he reported the words to the
king, who sent and put Theocritus to death.
The last and most sacred requirement is that children should be trained
to speak the truth. Lying is a servile habit; it deserves universal
detestation and is unpardonable even in a decent slave.
[Sidenote: D] So far I have had no doubt or hesitation in what I have
said of the modesty and good behaviour of children. But upon the matter
which now calls for mention I am dubious and undecided, my judgement
swaying in the balance first one way and then the other, without finding
it possible to turn the scale in either direction. It concerns a
practice which I can neither recommend nor discountenance without great
reluctance. Nevertheless one must venture a word upon it. The question
is whether a man who is enamoured of a boy is to be allowed to keep
intimate [Sidenote: E] company with him, or whether, on the contrary,
association with such a person is to be tabooed. When I look at fathers
whose disposition is uncompromisingly harsh and austere, and who regard
such association as an intolerable insult to their children, I have many
scruples in recommending it or speaking in its favour. When, on the
other hand, I think of Socrates, Plato, Xenophon, Aeschines, Cebes, and
all those great men who have with one accord approved of love between
males, while they have led youths on to culture, to public leadership,
and to [Sidenote: F] a virtuous character, I change my mind and am
inclined to copy those great exemplars. Euripides is on their side, when
he says:
_Nay, men may feel passion of other sort,
Love of a just, chaste, virtuous mind and soul._
Nor must we omit the saying of Plato, partly serious and partly
humorous, that those who have shown special excellence should have the
right to kiss any beautiful person they choose. The proper course is to
drive away those who are enamoured of the person, but, generally
speaking, give a sanction to those who are in love with the mind and
soul. While we must have nothing to say to the connexions in vogue at
Thebes or in Elis, or to the so-called ‘abduction’ of Crete, we may well
imitate that kind [Sidenote: 12] which is usual at Athens or in
Lacedaemon.
On this matter it is for every man to hold such convictions as he has
formed for himself. I will now leave it, and, having spoken of the
discipline and good behaviour of the boy, will pass on to deal with the
age of adolescence. I shall do so in very few words, for I have often
expressed my disapproval of those who encourage vicious habits by
proposing to put a boy under the charge of tutors and teachers, whereas,
with a stripling, they would permit his inclinations to range at will.
As a matter of [Sidenote: B] fact, there is need of more anxious
precautions in the case of the stripling than in that of the boy. Every
one is aware that the faults committed by a boy are small matters, which
can be cured without difficulty—such as paying no heed to his tutor, or
trickery and inattention in school. But the sins of adolescence often
reach a flagrant and shocking pitch—stealing the father’s money,
gormandizing, dicing, roistering, drinking, loose passion for young
girls, or corruption of married women. The propensities of young manhood
ought therefore to be carefully watched and kept closely under the
chain. When capacity for [Sidenote: C] pleasure is at its prime, it
rejects control, kicks over the traces, and requires the curb. If
therefore we do not take a firm hold upon this time of life, we are
giving folly a licence to sin. This is the moment when wise fathers
should be most watchful and alert; when they should bring their lads
within bounds by warnings, threats, or entreaties, and by pointing out
instances of disaster caused by devotion to pleasure, and of praise and
good repute won by continence. These two things form what may be called
first principles of virtue, namely, hope of honour and fear of
punishment, the one producing a greater eagerness [Sidenote: D] for the
noblest pursuits, the other a shrinking from bad actions.
One general rule of duty is to keep boys from associating with vicious
persons; otherwise they will pick up something of their vice. This has
been urged by Pythagoras among a number of dark sayings. Since these
also possess great value as aids to the attainment of virtue, I will
proceed to quote them, adding their explanation. _Do not taste
black-tails_[59]—keep no company with persons who are malignant and
therefore ‘black’. _Do not [Sidenote: E] step over a beam_—justice must
be scrupulously respected and not ‘overstepped’. _Do not sit on a
quart-measure_—beware of idleness, and see to the providing of daily
bread. _Do not clasp hands with every man_—we should form no sudden
connexions. _Do not wear a tight ring_—one should carry out the practice
of [Sidenote: *] life, and not fasten it to any chain. _Do not poke a
fire with iron_—do not irritate a wrathful man (the right course being
to let angry men go their own way). _Do not eat the heart_—do not injure
[Sidenote: F] the mind with worry and brooding. _Abstain from
beans_—avoid public life (office in former times being determined by
voting with beans). _Do not put victuals in a chamber-vessel_—clever
speech ought not to be put into a wicked mind, since speech, which is
the food of thought, is polluted by the wickedness in a man. _Do not
turn back on coming to the border_—when about to die, and with the end
of life close in sight, behave calmly and without losing heart.
To return to the topic with which we were dealing before this
digression. While, as I observed, boys should be kept from every kind of
vicious company, especially should they be kept [Sidenote: 13] from
parasites. I venture to repeat here what I am continually urging upon
fathers. There is no set of creatures so pernicious—none which so
quickly and completely brings youth to headlong destruction—as
parasites. They are utter ruin to both father and son, filling the old
age of the one and the youth of the other with vexation. To gain their
purpose they offer an irresistible bait in the shape of pleasure. In the
case of rich men’s sons, the father preaches sobriety, the parasite
drunkenness. The father urges temperance and economy, the parasite
profligacy and extravagance. The father says: ‘Be industrious’; the
parasite says: ‘Be idle; for life is only a moment altogether.
[Sidenote: B] One ought to live, not merely exist. Why trouble about
your father’s threats? He is an old driveller with one foot in the
coffin, and we will promptly pick him up on our shoulders and carry him
off to his grave.’ One person tempts him with a drab, or with the
seduction of a married woman, plundering and stripping the father of all
the provision for his old age. They are an abominable crew; their
friendship is a sham; of candour they have no idea; they toady the rich
and despise the poor. They are drawn to young men like puppets on a
string; they [Sidenote: *] grin, when those who feed them laugh; they
counterfeit the possession of a mind, and give a spurious imitation of
details of real life. They live at the rich man’s beck, and though
fortune [Sidenote: C] has made them free, their own choice makes them
slaves. If they are not insulted, they regard it as an insult, their
maintenance in that case being without a motive. If, therefore, a father
is concerned for the obedient conduct of his children, he must keep
these abominable creatures at a distance. And he must by all means do
the same with vicious fellow-pupils, who are capable of corrupting the
most moral of natures.
While these principles are right and expedient, I have a word to say
upon a human aspect of the matter. I have no desire, all this time, that
a father’s disposition should be altogether [Sidenote: D] harsh and
unyielding. I would have him frequently condone a fault in his junior
and recollect that he was once young himself. The physician mixes his
bitter drugs with syrup, and so finds a way to work benefit through the
medium of enjoyment. In the same way a father should blend his severe
reprimande with kindliness, at one time giving the boy’s desires a loose
or easy rein, at another time tightening it. If possible, he should
[Sidenote: E] take misdeeds calmly; failing that, his anger should be
seasonable and should quickly cool down. It is better for a father to be
sharp-tempered than sullen-tempered; to sulk and bear malice goes far to
prove a lack of parental affection. Sometimes, when a fault is
committed, it is a good thing to pretend ignorance, turning to advantage
the dim sight and defective hearing of old age, and refusing to see or
hear certain occurrences which one hears and sees. We put up with the
lapses of a friend. Is it strange to do so with those of a child? A
slave is often heavy-headed from a debauch, without our taking him to
task. The other day you refused the boy money; there are times to meet
his requests. The other day you were indignant; there are times to be
lenient. Perhaps he has cozened you through a servant; [Sidenote: F]
restrain your anger. Has he borrowed the team from the farm? Does he
come reeking of yesterday’s bout? Do not notice it. Smelling of
perfumes? Say nothing. Such is the way to manage the restiveness of
youth.
A son who cannot resist pleasure and is deaf to remonstrance should be
put into matrimonial harness, that being the surest way of tying a young
man down. The woman who becomes his wife should not, however, be to any
great extent his superior either in birth or means. _Keep to your own
level_ is a sound maxim, and a man who marries much above him finds
himself, [Sidenote: 14] not the husband of the woman, but the slave of
the dowry.
A few words more, and I will conclude my list of principles.
Above all things a father should set an example to his children in his
own person, by avoiding all faults of commission or omission. His life
should be the glass by which they form themselves and are put out of
conceit with all ugliness of act or speech. For him to rebuke his erring
sons when guilty of the same errors himself, is to become his own
accuser while ostensibly theirs. Indeed, if his life is bad, he is
disqualified from reproving even a slave, much more his son. Moreover,
he will naturally [Sidenote: B] become their guide and teacher in
wrongdoing. Where there are old men without shame, inevitably there are
quite shameless young ones also. To obtain good behaviour from our
children we should therefore strive to carry out every moral duty. An
example to follow is that of Eurydice, who, though belonging to a
thoroughly barbarous country like Illyria, nevertheless took to study
and self-improvement late in life for the sake of her children’s
education. Her maternal affection finds apt expression in the lines
inscribed upon her offering to the Muses: [Sidenote: C]
_In that, when mother to grown boys, she won
Her soul’s well-known desire—the skill to use
The lore of letters—this Eurydice
From Hierapolis sends to each Muse._[60]
To compass the whole of the foregoing elements of success is [Sidenote:
*] perhaps visionary—a counsel of perfection. But to cultivate the
majority of them, though itself requiring good fortune as well as much
care, is at any rate a thing within the reach of a human being.
Footnote 55:
This article is in all probability not the work of Plutarch. See the
Introduction.
Footnote 56:
The play upon words (_ēthikas_, ‘moral’ and _ĕthikas_, ‘of habit’) is
not adequately translatable.
Footnote 57:
The Greek text is here corrupt; the translation represents the
probable sense.
Footnote 58:
The Greek text is again faulty. The sense here given is approximate.
Footnote 59:
These maxims were probably in the first instance merely hygienic, or
even popular superstitions, but subsequently they received recondite
interpretations.
Footnote 60:
The Greek verse is doggerel, and no attempt is made to better it in
the English.