_Socr._ But what? shall we consider another discourse, this one’s
legitimate brother, in what manner it is produced, and how far better
and more powerful it naturally is than this?
_Phæ._ What is that, and how do you say it is produced?
_Socr._ That which is written with science in the learner’s soul, which
is able to defend itself, and knows before whom it ought to speak and be
silent.
_Phæ._ You mean the discourse of a man endued with knowledge that has
life and soul, of which the written may be justly called an image.
_Socr._ Assuredly. But tell me this. Would an intelligent husbandman,
who has seeds that he cares for and which he wishes to be fruitful,
seriously sow them in summer-time in the gardens of Adonis, and rejoice
at seeing them growing up beautifully within eight days, or would he do
this, if he did it at all, for the sake of sport or pastime; but the
seed which he treats seriously, availing himself of the husbandman’s
skill and sowing it in its proper soil, would he be content that what he
has sown shall come to maturity in the eighth month?
139. _Phæ._ Just so, Socrates, he would do the one seriously, and the
other, as you say, for amusement.
_Socr._ But shall we say that he who possesses a knowledge of what is
just, beautiful and good, shews less intelligence than a husbandman in
the management of his own seeds?
_Phæ._ By no means.
_Socr._ He will not, then, seriously write them in water, sowing them
with ink by means of a pen, with words that are unable to defend
themselves by speech, and unable adequately to teach the truth.
_Phæ._ In all probability he will not.
_Socr._ Surely not. But, as it seems, he will sow and write, when he
does write, in the gardens of letters for the sake of diversion,
treasuring up memoranda for himself, when he comes to the forgetfulness
of old age, and for all who are going on the same track, and he will be
delighted at seeing them in their tender growth, and while other men
pursue other diversions, refreshing themselves with banquets, and other
pleasures akin to these, he, as it appears, instead of these, will pass
his time in the diversions I have mentioned.
140. _Phæ._ You speak of a very noble in comparison of a mean diversion,
Socrates, when a man is able to divert himself with discourses, telling
stories about justice and the other things you mention.
_Socr._ It is so indeed, my dear Phædrus. But, in my opinion, a far more
noble employment results from this, when a man availing himself of
dialectic art, on meeting with a congenial soul, plants and sows
scientific discourses which are able to aid both themselves and him that
planted them, and are not unfruitful but contain seed within themselves,
from whence others springing up in other minds are able to make this
seed immortal, and make their possessor happy as far as it is possible
for man to be so.
_Phæ._ This that you mention is far more noble.
_Socr._ Now then, Phædrus, since this is agreed on, we are able to
determine our former questions.
_Phæ._ What are they?
_Socr._ Those which, in our desire to consider them, led us to the
present point: namely, that we might examine into the reproach cast on
Lysias for writing speeches, and then speeches themselves, which are
written by art or without art. Now that which is artistic and that which
is not appears to me to have been tolerably well explained.