fl- 
 
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 M 
 
 EMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 .f'^^isle*^ 
 
 6 7 2
 
 "SOCRATES introduced Ethics, and taught duties; and then 
 finally PLATO asserted, or reasserted, the idea of a GOD, the 
 maker of the world. The lue^xsure of Human Philosophy was 
 thus full, when Christianity came to add what before was wanting 
 -assurance." ^ ^^ Coleridge, Sept. 24, 1830.
 
 N'57U 
 
 i^lUXiUy 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HAVE often wondered by Avhat arguments the 
 'accnsers of Socrates could iDossibly have suc- 
 ceeded in convincing the Athenians that he 
 deserved death at the hands of tJie stnte, for the indict- 
 ment against him ran somewhat thus :— "Socrates vio- 
 lates the laws, inasmuch as he acknowledges not as gods 
 those whom the stdte acknowledges, but has introduced 
 other and new divinities. He also violates the laws by 
 corrupting the youth." 
 
 Now as to the first count, that "he did not acknow- 
 ledge as gods those whom the state acknowledges,'V 
 what kind of eA-idence did they adduce ? For he was 
 frequently seen sacrificing without concealment, both 
 at his omi house and on the public altars of the
 
 2 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 cily; and lie ojjenly used diviuation, for it was com- 
 monly bruited about liow that "Socrates affirmed that 
 the divinity forewarned him." And on this assertion 
 it was that they seem to me chiefly to have founded the 
 charge of his " introducing new divinities." 
 
 But in reality he introduced nothing more novel than 
 otliers do who employ divination, and have faith in 
 birds, and voices, and signs, and sacrifices ; for such do 
 not suppose that the birds or the people who encounter 
 thoni know what is best for those who seek their counsel, 
 but only that the gods signify thus much by the instru- 
 mentality of such things ; and this Avas also his opinion. 
 
 Whereas, however, most people profess that they are 
 diverted from an object, or incited to it, both by birds 
 and by the people they meet, Socrates asserted that 
 which he himself felt ; for he declared that it was the 
 divinity who was his forewanier. Accordingly he en- 
 couraged many of his disciples to some actions, and 
 dissuaded them from others ; and those who followed 
 his advice were benefited, while those who did not, 
 repented of not having done so. Yet is there any one 
 who would not adniit that he disliked being regarded 
 either as a fool or a braggart by his friends ? both of 
 which Socrates certainly would have been considered, 
 if, after aflirming that revelations had been vouchsafed 
 to him by a god, he had then proved a deceiver. It 
 is manifest, therefore, that unless he had believed his 
 predictions true, he would not 'have uttered them. Who,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 3 
 
 however, in such matters, would trust in any one rather 
 than in a god? And if Socrates trusted in the gods, 
 how coukl he tliink that there were no gods % 
 
 Moreover, he acted on simiLar principles where his 
 friends were concerned, for he counselled them, in 
 matters in which results follow as of necessity, to pro- 
 ceed in such a way as he thought most conducive to 
 their interests ; while in those of which the issue was 
 uncertain, he referred them to divination to determine 
 whether they should act or not. He said, too, that 
 those who would found families or cities on a sure foot- 
 ing stood in need of divination ; for architecture, or 
 metallurgy, or husbandry, or the governing of men, or 
 the power of criticising or reasoning upon such subjects, 
 all these he regarded as matters of science, and as fit 
 objects for man's selection according to his individual 
 judgment. But the gods, he affirmed, reserved to them- 
 selves that which was most important in all such matters, 
 of which nothing was revealed to mortals. Thus, 
 he who had cropped his land abundantly was by no 
 means sure who should reap the fruits, neither was he 
 who had built a fine house certain who should inhabit 
 it. Nor, again, was it clear to the accomplished general 
 whether it would be to his advantage to undertake the 
 command of the army ; or to the politician whether he 
 had better become prime minister ; or to him who had 
 married a beautiful woman in the hope of happiness 
 whether she might not prove a bane to him ; or to Inm
 
 4 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 wlio had powerful political connections whether by their 
 means he might not be sent into banishment. And he 
 asserted that those who were of opinion that the divinity 
 took no cognisance of such issues, but that they were all 
 matters demanding merely human judgment, must be out 
 of their minds. Those also he declared to be bereft of 
 their senses who had recourse to divination with a view 
 to solving questions upon which the gods had given the 
 power to men to decide for themselves. For instance, 
 as if any one should inquire whether it were better to 
 engage as a charioteer a man who could drive, or one 
 who could not ; or as a pilot a man who could steer, or 
 a man who could not ; or in matters which can be esti- 
 mated by arithmetic, or mensuration, or ponderation. 
 Those who consulted the gods upon questions of tliis 
 kind he deemed guilty of inipiety, and said that what- 
 ever the gods had given a man the power of informing 
 himself upon, that he should learn ; but in matters which 
 were inscrutable to him the gods should be inquired of 
 through divination, for that they vouchsafed revelations 
 to those whom they regarded favourably. 
 
 Moreover, with regard to his cmi conduct, he always 
 acted without any attempt at coiicealment, since he was 
 wont early in the morning to attend the public prome- 
 nades and the gymnasia, and was constantly to be seen 
 in the Forum' at the time of high market ; while for the 
 rest of the day he went where he was likely to meet the 
 most people, and discoursed as much as possible, so that
 
 lilEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 5 
 
 all those wlio cliose to listen to him could do so. 
 Neither did any one ever see or hear of Socrates act- 
 ing impiously either by deed or word ; for he did not 
 argue, as most philosophers do, concerning the nature 
 of all things, speculating npon that which is termed by 
 the Sophists " the universe," and by what laws each of 
 the heavenly bodies exists ; but he maintained that those 
 who devoted their attention to such subjects were fools. 
 And, first, he would ask them whether it was because 
 they considered themselves sufficiently well instructed 
 in all branches of human knowledge that they pro- 
 ceeded to the contemplation of such matters, or whether 
 they thought it became them to ignore humanity in 
 order to speculate upon divinity ? He marvelled also 
 that they could not perceive that it was impossible for 
 mortals to penetrate these mysteries, since even those 
 who are the best informed with regard to such topics do 
 not, when discussing them, agree in their opinions, but 
 are affected one towards another as mad people are. 
 For that as with madmen, some are not terrified at 
 things that really are terrible, while others are fright- 
 ened at that which is by no means frightful ; and as 
 some hold it not unseemly to say or do anything before 
 a crowd of people, while others think it wrong even to 
 go into company at all ; as some, again, reverence no- 
 thing that is sacred, either altar or anything that is con- 
 secrated to religion, but worship stones, or chance logs, 
 or wild beasts; so of tliose who busy themselves in
 
 6 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 speculating upon tlie nature of tlie universe, some hold 
 that there is only one single existence, while others 
 maintain that the multitude of existences is infinite ; 
 some regard all things as heing in perpetual motion, 
 while others assert that there is no such thing as motion 
 at all ; and while some think that everything is born 
 and perishes, so others argue that nothing ever was 
 horn, and that nothing ever perishes. 
 
 He would also ask concerning such persons, "Whether, 
 as those who have l-^arned human sciences think that 
 they can employ them when they please for their own 
 service or that of others, so those who seek to dive into 
 matters pertaining to the gods helieve, when they have 
 acquainted themselves Avith the necessary laws of causa- 
 tion respecting each of these things, that they can pro- 
 duce at will either wind or rain, or the changes of the 
 seasons, or any other such phenomena as they choose ? 
 or whether, if they have no such expectation as this, 
 the mere knowledge of the means by which each of 
 these is caused satisfies them?" 
 
 Such remarks he would make concerning all who 
 busied themselves in these speculations ; but he himself 
 was always willing to discuss any topics that might be 
 of human interest, — inquiring into what was pious, 
 what impious ; what honourable, what base ; what 
 sobriety, what excess ; what courage, what cowardice ; 
 what a state, what a statesman ; what the government 
 of men, what one who was capable of governing them.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. ^ 
 
 And so too on other subjects, the knowledge of which 
 he thought rendered men honoiTrahle and good, hut 
 ignorance of them fit only to be designated as no better 
 
 than slaves. 
 
 Upon as many points, therefore, as he gave no clear 
 indication of what his opinions were, it is no marvel that 
 his judges should have been led astray ; but in regard to 
 facts which were patent to every one, was it not strange 
 that they took no cognisance of these whatever? For 
 once, when he was a member of the senate, and had 
 taken the customary oath, in the which it was recited 
 that he should "vote in conformity with the laws," he, 
 being President of the people, when they voted, con- 
 trary to law,* for the death of the nine generals who 
 accompanied Thrasyllus and Erasinides, would not give 
 his suffrage, although they were incensed at him, and 
 many powerful citizens even threatened him, because 
 he considered the observance of his oath more obliga- 
 tory than the gratification of the people at the expense 
 of right, and than the defence of himself against those 
 who had threatened him. Tor he held that the gods 
 re'^arded men, not according to the generally received 
 
 * This event occurred after the battle of Arginusae, b c. 400, when 
 Theramenes who was serving in the Athenian fleet, was ordered, after 
 the action, to bring off the disabled galleys and their crews. Not bemg 
 able to accomplish this, he accused the victorious generals, upon his 
 return home, of having caused the loss of life and property that^ en- 
 sued They were all condemned to death; and the six who had arrived 
 in Athens were executed. -^ee ThirlwalVs "History of Greece," vol. 
 iv. pp. 119-136.
 
 8 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 opinion concerning tliem— wliicli is, that tliey are ac- 
 quainted witli some things^ but are ignorant of others ; 
 but Socrates maintained that the gods were omniscient 
 in regard to everything that men said or did, or medi- 
 tated in silence ; and that they were omnipresent, and 
 vouchsafed revelations to men touching all human 
 
 affairs. 
 
 I wonder, therefore, how the Athenians were ever 
 persuaded that Socrates was not orthodox in his opinions 
 with regard to the gods, since he was a man who never, 
 in any one instance, either spoke or acted irreverently 
 concerning them ; but, both in word and deed, talked and 
 behaved in such a way towards them that any one else 
 whose Avords and actions had resembled his would have 
 been, and would have been considered to be, excep- 
 tionally religious. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The conviction entertained by some, that "Socrates 
 corrupted the youth," also seems wonderful to me, 
 inasmuch as, in addition to what has been already said 
 of him, he was, in the first place, the most continent of 
 men in regard to his passions and appetites ; in the 
 next, remarkaljly Avell constituted to endure both cold 
 and heat, and all kinds of toil ; and also so educated as
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 9 
 
 to feel only moderate wants — and as lie possessed but 
 very little, so lie very easily made that little suffice. 
 
 Was he, then, being such an one himself, likely to 
 render others either impious, lawless, luxurious, in- 
 continent, or indisposed to labour % Eather, he caused 
 many to turn from such courses by inducing them to 
 seek after virtue, and encouraging them to believe that 
 if they would take heed to their ways, they would be 
 honourable and good men. Not that he himself ever 
 undertook to act as an instructor upon such subjects, 
 but, by its being patent to all that such was his own 
 method of life, he caused those Avho associated with him 
 to hope that they too, if they followed his example, 
 might become such as he was. 
 
 Yet was he not by any means neglectful of the body, 
 nor did he approve of those who Avere so. He did not 
 consider excess either of eating or of labour beneficial, 
 but that such sustenance as could be taken . without 
 satiety should be got rid of by a proper degree of exer- 
 cise ; for he said that such a habit was conducive to 
 health, and did not hinder the cultivation of the mind. 
 
 Neither was he in any way luxurious or ostentatious, ^ 
 either in his clothes or his shoes, or any of his modes of 
 living. Nor, again, did he make his associates fond of 
 money, while he checked them in other desires ; neither 
 from those who sought his advice would he take any fee. 
 He thought that by refusing payment he could best 
 preserv'e his independence, and said that those who
 
 lO 
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 accepted remuneration from their disciples were like 
 men wlio bound themselves to slavery, for that they 
 were ohliged to hold discussions with any one whose 
 money they had taken. He marvelled, too, that any one 
 who was a teacher of virtue should regard it as a mat- 
 ter of payment, instead of reckoning that he had gained 
 most by the acquisition of a firm friend ; or should 
 fear that he who had been made an honourable and 
 worthy character by his teacher would not feel the 
 greatest gratitude towards him as his benefactor. 
 Socrates, indeed, never delivered himself to this effect 
 to any one, but he believed steadfastly that those of his 
 associates who assented to the doctrines which he him- 
 self held, would be staunch friends to him and to one 
 another throughout their whole lives. 
 
 How, theu, could such a man " corrupt the youth,"— 
 unless indeed the cultivation of virtue be corruption ? 
 
 "But most certainly," said his accuser, "Socrates 
 caused his associates to despise the established laws by 
 inveighing against the folly of electing the ministers 
 of state by ballot;* for he argued that no one would 
 
 * Literally, hy beans, which, with metal-balls, stones, and sea-shells, 
 were used by'th e Athenians for placing in their balloting urns. Hence 
 Aristophanes (Knight's, v. 41) calls the "people" {Svf^os Kva,uoTpuJi;), 
 a "bean-devourer," in allusion to the great political power which this 
 method of voting gave to the democracy. The exercise of judicial 
 power was, however, usurped by the public assembly but seldom, and 
 then only on extraordinary occasions, such as that referred to in the 
 text.— See Charles Hermann's "Political Antiquities of Greece," chap, 
 vi. sect. 131.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. ii 
 
 like to employ a pilot or a builder or a flute-player 
 chosen by ballot, or any one in any similar capacity, 
 altbougli blunders committed in such matters would 
 occasion far less mischief than errors of statesmanship. 
 By such teaching, therefore, young men were encouraged 
 to contemn the enactments of the state, and to act 
 forcibly in violation of them." 
 
 Now, it appears to me that persons who use their 
 intellects, and imagine themselves capa,ble of instruct- 
 ing the citizens as to what is most to their advantage, 
 are the last people likely to commit acts of violence, as 
 being aware that from violence dangers and enmities 
 accrue, and that the same ends are better attained by 
 persuasion, without any hazard, and in an amicable Avay ; 
 for those who are compelled by force, conceive enmity 
 as though they had been robbed ; whereas those who 
 have been persuaded, feel amicably disposed, as though 
 they had received a favour. Acts of violence, then, are 
 not likely to be committed by men who use their 
 intellects, but they are rather to be expected of those 
 who possess sheer strength without judgment. More- 
 over, he who ventures to use violence must have abet- 
 tors ; but he Avho prevails through persuasion needs 
 none, for he would consider himself able to carry his 
 point single-handed. And least of all should such 
 persons put any one to death. For who would prefer 
 slaying a man, to preserving his life, and persuading 
 him, and ultimately making him useful?
 
 12 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 ■' « But," said the accuser, " Critias and Alcibiades, wlio 
 ' became the associates of Socrates, both worked manifold 
 evils in the state ; for Critias turned out to be the most 
 grasping and outrageous of the oligarchs, while Alcibiades 
 again was the most intemperate, insolent, and violent of 
 all the democratic party." 
 
 Now, for whatever evils either of them may have in- 
 flicted upon the state, I shall offer no apology ; but with 
 respect to their association with Socrates, I will show 
 how the matter really stood. These two were, in truth, 
 by nature the most ambitious persons among all the 
 Athenians, being desirous of carrying everything before 
 them by their o^vn personal influence, and becoming tlie 
 most renowned of all men ; they knew, too, that Socrates 
 lived very independently on very small means ; that 
 he was most abstinent from all pleasures, and that lie 
 swayed those who argued with him any way he pleased 
 by his reasonings. Seeing, then, as they did, that such 
 was the case, and being actuated by such motives as 
 they were, -will any one affirm that it was because they 
 were desirous of imitating Socrates in the life he led^ 
 and the abstinence he practised, that they sought his 
 company, or that it was not because they thought that 
 by associating Avith him, they would be rendered most 
 efficient both in speech and action? I verily am of 
 opinion that if any god had given either of them the 
 choice of passing his whole life as he saw Socrates pass- 
 ing it, or of dying, both of them would have infinitely
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 13 
 
 preferred to die. And this tliey proved by their con- 
 duct ; for directly they conceived themselves superior 
 to their contemporaries, they hurried away from Socrates, 
 and busied themselves in politics ; that being the very 
 purpose for -which they had sought his society. 
 
 Now, perhaps, some one might object to this, that 
 
 Socrates should not have taught his disciples politics 
 
 before he had taught them discretion— a proposition 
 
 which I, for one, by no means gainsay. But I perceivQ ' 
 
 that all teachers ]n-ove to their disciples by their own| 
 
 examples how far they practise what they preach, andl 
 
 encourage them by their reasonings to follow a similar 
 
 course. I know, too, that Socrates made it evident 
 
 to his disciples how honest and good he was, and that 
 
 he discoursed most admirably concerning virtue, and 
 
 all himian actions. I know, also, that both these 
 
 men, so long as they associated with Socrates, behaved 
 
 themselves discreetly, not as being in fear of any 
 
 penalty or punishment at his hands, but as thinking, 
 
 at that time, that it was best for their own interests so 
 
 to act. 
 
 But many of those who are called philosophers would 
 perhaps assert that a man who has at one period, of his 
 life been just, can never become unjust, nor a himible- 
 minded man insolent ; and so, too, in regard to anything 
 that is capable of being learnt, that he who has once 
 learned can never unlearn it. With such sentiments, 
 however, I do not coincide ; for I see that, as those who
 
 14 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 do not train their bodies cannot properly perform the 
 functions of the body, so those who do not exercise their 
 mental faculties cannot perform those of the mind ; for 
 they are nnable to do those things which they ought to 
 do, or to abstain from that from which they ought to 
 abstain. And hence it is that fathers keep their sons, 
 however steady they may be, from bad companions, on 
 the ground that intimacy with the good leads to the 
 practice of virtue, whereas the companionship of the 
 M'icked destroys it. 
 
 And to this one of the poets * bears testimony when 
 lie says — 
 
 " Thou shalt learn goodness from the good ; but those 
 Who make companions of the wicked, lose 
 Such understanding as they once possessed." 
 
 Another observes — 
 
 "Good men are sometimes good and sometimes had." 
 
 And to this I can myself bear witness ; for I perceive that 
 as those who are engaged in inditing metrical composi- 
 tions, if they are not careful as to their diction, forget the 
 art; sorbose who neglect instructive admonitions become 
 oblivious of them. And when any one forgets moral 
 admonition, he loses the remembrance of those things 
 
 • Theognis, yviiiixai, lines 35, 36. It is not known who was the 
 author of the verse which follows. In comparison with the former 
 passage, see 2 Sam. xxii. 26, 27, and Ps. xviii. 26.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 15 
 
 which the mind desired when it was tolerant of wisdom ; 
 and if a man is forgetful of these things, it is not to be 
 wondered at that he becomes oblivious of wisdom also. 
 And I see, too, that those who are given to excess in 
 drinking, or who are carrying on amours, are the less 
 able to apply themselves to their duties, or to abstain 
 from actions which they ought not to commit ; for 
 many who could be frugal before they were in love, 
 when they have fallen in love can be so no longer ; and 
 when they have exhausted their resources, betake them- 
 selves for the sake of gain to courses from which they have 
 previously shrunk as considering them dishonourable. 
 
 How is it impossible, then, that one who has formerly 
 been sober-minded may be sober-minded no longer? 
 that he who was once capable of acting justly may be- 
 come afterwards incapable of executing justice ? 
 
 It appears to me, therefore, that whatsoever things 
 are honest and good are matters of practice, and not 
 the least of them, sobriety of mind; for the sense of 
 pleasure implanted as it is in the self-same body in 
 which the spirit exists, tempts the latter to pay no 
 regard to sobriety of mind, and leads it but to gratify 
 itseK and the body at all hazards. 
 
 So, then, both Critias and Alcibiades, as long as they 
 
 j remained intimate with Socrates, were enabled with his 
 
 1 aid to subdue their evil propensities ; but when they 
 
 i renounced his society, Critias, for his part, flying to 
 
 Thessaly, there became the associate of men much more
 
 lb MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. <| 
 
 addicted to breaking the laws than to keeping tliem ; 
 while Alcihiades, on account of his personal beauty, 
 being solicited by many women, even of high rank, and 
 from the influence Avhich he possessed both in the state 
 and with the allies ; being courted, too, by many men, 
 and among them by those who were most able to flatter 
 him ; being held in honour by the people, and exceUing 
 others without an effort, like those athletes who from 
 easy victories at gymnastic contests afterwards neglect 
 their training— so he neglected himself. 
 
 This, then, being the case with each of them, and both, 
 of them being proud of their descent, elated with 
 wealth, puffed up with power, petted by many, and 
 thus rendered thoroughly corrupt, what wonder is it 
 that when they had long been separated from Socrates 
 they became overbearing in their conduct 1 
 
 But, granting that they did act wrongfully, pray should 
 the accuser impute the blame to Socrates 1 and should 
 he argue that if, when they were both young, and there- 
 fore most likely to be inconsiderate and ungovernable, 
 Socrates rendered them amenable to reason, he does not 
 therefore deserve any credit for it 1 At any rate, other 
 matters are not estimated after a similar fashion. For 
 what flautist, or harpist, or teacher of any kind, who 
 has turned out proficient pupils, is blamed, if, when they 
 go to other teachers, they deteriorate % Or what father, 
 if his son, while he associated with one man, was steady, 
 but afterwards by intimacy with another became vicious,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 1 7 
 
 would find fault with the former ? and would he not 
 rather, in proportion as his son appeared to be rendered 
 worse by the second, be so much the more inclined 
 to speak well of the first % But even fathers, when they 
 are with their sons, are not held accountable for any 
 faults those sons may commit, provided they themselves 
 are well conducted. And according to the same rules 
 ought Socrates to have been judged. If in any way 
 he acted viciously, he was rightly regarded as a vicious 
 man ; but if he was continually engaged in virtuous 
 acts, how was it just to blame him for depravity which 
 he did not exhibit 1 
 
 Granting, however, that he was himself innocent of 
 any wrong-doing, yet if he commended Critias and 
 Alcibiades when he saw them acting wrongfully, he 
 would be justly liable to censure. But when he saw 
 the former courting Euthydemus, and endeavouring to 
 make use of him just as debauchees do those whom they 
 wish to seduce, he sought to dissuade him from his 
 design, saying, that it was not like a gentleman, or 
 worthy of a man of honour and integrity, to fawn 
 upon a person whom he admires and by whom he 
 wishes to be highly esteemed, beseeching and entreating 
 him, as paupers do, for favours, which after all were 
 for no good purpose. But as Critias heeded not his 
 remonstrances, and was not diverted from his course, 
 Socrates, as the story goes, said in the presence of 
 Euthydemus himself and divers others, that '''Critias 
 
 ( B
 
 1 8 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 appeared to him to be swinislily disposed, for that he 
 sought to rub himself against Euthydemus just as pigs 
 do against stones." Hence it was that Critias bore such 
 a grudge against Socrates, that even when he was one of 
 the Thirty,* and was appointed with Charicles to settle 
 the laws, he remembered this circumstance, and inserted 
 a clause forbidding any one to teach the art of disputa- 
 tion, expressly to annoy Socrates, and not as having any 
 particular charge on which he coidd arraign him, but 
 for the purpose of bringing against him the accusation 
 •which was commonly brought against philosophers, and 
 lowering his character with the people in general. Not 
 that I myself ever heard this from Socrates, nor did I 
 ever know any one who said that he had heard it. 
 
 Critias, however, liimself made it manifest ; for when 
 the Thirty were putting to death many of the citizens, 
 some of them being by no means inconsiderable per- 
 sons, and were encouraging several iu their violation of 
 the laws, Socrates casually remarked " that he should 
 tlunk it curious if a man who undertook to tend a herd 
 of cattle, and suffered them to grow thinner and poorer, 
 should deny that he was a bad herdsman ; but he 
 thought it still more remarkable that any one who un- 
 dertook to act as the head of the state, and suffered the 
 citizens to deteriorate both numerically and morally, 
 
 * The establishment of the " Thirty Tyrants '' as the governing body 
 at Athens, took place just after the end of tlio Peloponnesian war, B.O. 
 iSi\.—iiee'niirlwa,U's " mslory of Greece;' vol. iv. pp. 174-203.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 19 
 
 should not consider that lie was unfit for his position." 
 This observation having been reported to the Thirty, 
 Critias and Charicles summoned Socrates before them, 
 and pointing out the law to him, warned him against 
 holding further discourses with the young. Then So- 
 crates asked them if they would allow him to put a 
 question to them concerning any point of their inhi- 
 bition which he did not exactly comprehend ? Upon 
 their acceding to his request, he said, " I am ready then 
 to obey the law, but in order that I may not violate it 
 imwittingly through ignorance, I wish to ascertain 
 clearly from you whether it is because you think that 
 the art of disputation encourages proper or improper 
 discourse that you prohibit it? If it encourages proper 
 discourse, the inhibition would clearly be against dis- 
 coursing properly, but if it encourages improper dis- 
 course, it is certain that we ought to endeavour to 
 discourse properly." Then Charicles, flying into a rage 
 with him, exclaimed, " Since, Socrates, you do not 
 understand what we have said, we give you an order 
 which you may comprehend more easily, viz., that you 
 are not to discourse with the young at all." " But," 
 answered Socrates, " that there may be no mistake as 
 to whether I do that which is forbidden or not, define 
 to me at what age I am to consider men young." " So 
 long," said Charicles, " as they are under the senatorial 
 age, as not yet being sufficiently experienced. Do not 
 discourse with any one who is under thirty years of
 
 20 
 
 a' '6 
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 .,_,-/' "But," asked Socrates, "suppose I sliould wish 
 to purcliase an article, and a man under tliirty should 
 he inclined to sell it, may I not even ask him what is - 
 its price]" "Of course," answered Charicles, "you 
 may ask such questions as these. But forasmuch as 
 your questions, Socrates, generally hear reference to 
 matters which you know all ahout, from such questions 
 you must ahstain." " If, then, a young man asks me 
 such a question as ' Where does Charicles live % ' or 
 ' AVhere is Critias % ' niay I not answer him if I know ?" 
 " Yes," replied Charicles, " such questions as these you 
 may answer." " But,'' said Critias, " you must ahstain 
 from descanting upon shoemakers and huilders and 
 braziers, for you talk so unceasingly ahout them that 
 I should imagine they must he worn threadbare." 
 " Must I then abstain from speaking of any quality 
 that may attach to any of such people, as love of jus- 
 tice, or piety, or anything of tliat sort ? " " Yes, in 
 good sooth, you must," rejoined Charicles, " and espe- 
 cially beware of ' herdsmen,' or if you do not, look out 
 lest you yourself make tlie herd thinner." Hence then 
 it was evident that it was because the anecdote about 
 the cattle had been repeated to them that they were 
 angry with Socrates. 
 
 The nature of Critias' intercourse with Socrates, and 
 the relations which existed between them, have now 
 been explained. 
 
 Again, I, for my part, should say that no real educa-
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 21 
 
 tion could be imparted to a pupil I)}' a teaclier wliom 
 he disliked. And neither Critias nor Alcibiades were 
 intimate with Socrates because they liked him what 
 time they associated Avith him, but because, from tlie 
 very commencement of their intimacy, they were aiiu- 
 iug at the headship of the state ; for during the wliole 
 period of their intercourse with him they affected the 
 conversation of none more eagerly than they did that 
 of persons who were engaged in political life. 
 
 Now it is related of Alcibiades, that before he was 
 twenty years of age he held the following conver- 
 sation with Pericles, who was his guardian, and like- 
 wise prime minister of state, respecting the laws : — 
 " Tell me," said he, " Pericles, would you have nie 
 taught what law is?" "By all manner of means," 
 answered Pericles. " Teach me, then, I pray you, by 
 the gods," rejoined Alcibiades; "since, for my part, 
 although I hear some men praised as being obedient to 
 the laws, methiuks that they are not deserving of such 
 j)raise unless they kuoAv what law is." "But, Alci- 
 biades, there is nothing difficult in what you desire," 
 said Pericles, " when you wish to know what law is ; for 
 all such measures as the people, approving in full con- 
 clave, enacts, declaring what is to be done and what not, 
 are laws." " And which kind of actions ' do the laws 
 enjoin — such as are good or such as are bad?" "The 
 good, my child, of course ; but the bad by no means," 
 replied Pericles. " But suppose not the whole people,
 
 22 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 but, as in tlie case of an oligarchy, tlie few meet together 
 and enact what is to he done, what are such enactments 1 » 
 " Everj-thing," answered Pericles, " which the ruling 
 power 'in the state, after due deUberation, enacts as 
 proper to be done is caUed the law." " If a tyrant, then, 
 holding supreme power in the state, enacts for his citizens 
 ^vhat they ought to do, is this too law^" "Even such 
 things as a tjTant at the head of the state enacts," said 
 Pericles, " are called the law." " In what, then, Peri- 
 cles, do compulsion and lawlessness consist?" asked 
 Alcibiades; "is it not when the stronger forces the 
 weaker to do that which seems good to him, not by per- 
 suasion, but against his ^A\\ ]" " So it appears to me," 
 answered Pericles. " Whatever, then, a tyrant by his 
 enactments compels his citizens to do against their own 
 judgment is lawlessness ] " "I think so," said Pericles, 
 " for I retract my assertion that whatever a tyrant enacts 
 without persuading his citizens is law." " And such 
 measures as the minority enact, not by persuading the 
 majority, but by gaining the mastery over them, should 
 we call these compulsory or not?" "Everything," 
 replied Pericles, "that one man forces another to do 
 without persuading him, whether enacted in writing or 
 not, appears to me to be compulsion rather than law." 
 " Whatever decrees, then, the mass of the people, having 
 obtained the mastery over the wealthier classes, should 
 pass, without having persuaded the latter, would be 
 rather compulsion than law ? " " Certainly, Alcibiades,"
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 23 
 
 answered Pericles ; " and Ave, too, wlien we were of 
 your age, were adepts at arguing as you now argue, for 
 we used to busy ourselves in, and speculate upon,* the 
 same kind of disquisitions as those to which you seem 
 to me now to be paying attention." " I would, then," 
 said Alcibiades, " that I had been intimate with you, 
 Pericles, when you were most of an adept at handling 
 such topics." 
 
 So, then, when Critias and Alcibiades considered 
 themselves superior to those who had the direction of 
 the state, they no longer maintained their intimacy 
 with Socrates, for they both disliked him on other 
 grounds, and Avere also angry if, when they did go to 
 him, he reproved them for any fault that they had 
 committed. Thus, then, tliey devoted themselves to 
 politics, which was the very reason why they originally 
 sought Socrates. 
 
 But Crito Avas an associate of Socrates, as also Avere 
 Chiierephon, and Chserecrates, and Hermocrates, and 
 Simmias, and Cebes, and Phsedonides, and others, Avho 
 
 * Literally, "argue sophistically upon." The "Sophists" were a set 
 of teachers who taught philosophy and rhetoric publicly to any who 
 were willing to pay for their lessons. Accordingly, all those who were 
 anxious to distinguish themselves in the government or the law-courts- 
 resorted to their lectures in order to learn how to argue on either side 
 of a question, so as to confute their opponents by making the worse 
 appear the better reason ; and it is from this fact that the term 
 " sophist" has always been employed in a bad sense. The school, how- 
 ever, originally boasted of the most celebrated men in Athens, either 
 as te'ache'i-s or pupils.— ^ec ThlrlwalVs "History of Greece," vol. iv. pp. 
 267-280.
 
 24 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 attended liim, not witli the object of becoming accom- 
 plished orators or pleaders, but in order that, by being 
 made good and honourable men, they might do their 
 duty by their families and their domestics, to their 
 relations and friends, to the state and to their fellow- 
 citizens. And not one of these, either in his youth or 
 in his more mature age, ever committed, or was ever 
 accused of committing, any despicable action. 
 
 " But Socrates," said his accuser, " taught the young 
 to look contemj^tuousiy upon their parents by making 
 his followers believe that he rendered them wiser than 
 their fathers, and alleging that any one might legally 
 confine even his father upon proving mental incapacity 
 against him, — adducing this as an argument that it was 
 lawful for the more ignorant to be put under restraint by 
 the better informed." But Socrates maintained that he 
 who put another under restraint on account of his igno- 
 rance would be rightly served by being himself kept iu 
 durance by those who happened to understand anything 
 of which he Avas ignorant. Hence, in reference to this 
 subject, he was often wont to inquire into the points of 
 difference which exist between ignorance and madness ; 
 and while he was of opinion that madmen should be 
 put under restraint, both for their own safety and 
 that of their friends, he also thought that those who 
 were ignorant of such things as they ought to know 
 should by rights be taught by those who did under- 
 Btand them.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 25 
 
 " Again," said the accuser, " Socrates caused his fol- 
 lowers to look witli contempt, not only upon tlieir 
 parents, but upon their kindred generally, by asserting 
 that relations were of no benefit to people when they 
 were suffering illness or involved in a lawsuit, but that 
 the doctors assisted them in the one case and the lawyers 
 in the other." He stated, too, that " Socrates declared, 
 with regard to friends, that their mere good-will was of 
 no avail unless they could also be of some active service ; 
 and- that those only were deserving of any esteem who 
 knew what would tend to a man's advantage, and could 
 point out the way to it." Accordingly, that " by thus 
 persuading the young to regard him as the wisest of 
 mankind, and the most capable of rendering others wise, 
 he so disposed his disciples towards him that they held 
 every one cheaply in comparison with him." 
 
 I know, indeed, that he did express such opinions 
 with regard to parents, and other relatives, and friends ; 
 and said, moreover, that when the soul has departed, in 
 which alone intelligence exists, men carry forth the 
 bodies of their most intimate companions, and hide 
 tliem away from sight as quickly as tiney can. He re- 
 marked, too, that every man of his own accord during 
 his own lifetime, even from his own body, which he 
 cherishes more than he does anything else, removes for 
 himself, or allows others to remove for him, anything 
 that is superfluous or useless. Thus peoj^le rid them- 
 selves of their own nails, and their hair, and their
 
 26 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 caUosities, and undergo troulDlesome and painful cut- 
 tings and cauterizations at the liands of surgeons, being 
 even willing to pay tliem for performing such oper- 
 ations. Again, men eject the saliva from the mouth as 
 far away from them as they can, because while it re- 
 mains in the mouth it is of no use to them, hut 
 rather the reverse. And he talked in this way, not with 
 a view of inducing any one to bury his father alive, or 
 to cut him in pieces, but in order to demonstrate the 
 worthlessness of that v7hich is senseless. He exhorted 
 each one to make himself as intelligent and as serviceable 
 as he could, so that if he wished to be highly regarded 
 by a father or a brother, or any one else, he might not 
 indolently rely solely upon his close relationship -with 
 them, but strive to be of use to those whose esteem he 
 was anxious to gain. 
 
 Another of the accuser's charges w-as that he selected 
 the most immoral passages of the most celebrated poets, 
 and used them as arguments to confirm those lessons of 
 villany and tyranny which he imparted to his disciples. 
 Thus he is said to have quoted the verse of Hesiod — 
 
 " Not work, but idleness disgraces men," * 
 
 with the intention of fixing on tlie poet the sentiment 
 that men should not abstain from any kind of work, be 
 it ever so unjust or dishonourable, but should under- 
 
 * Hesiod's "Ey07a koX "RpLepac ("Works and Days"), line 311.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 27 
 
 take even sucli deeds for tlie sake of profit. Wliereas^ 
 Socrates professed that occupation was advantageous \^ 
 and good for a man, and idleness injurious and bad ; \ 
 and as work was beneficial, and sloth harmful, so he 
 maintained that those only who do good are really 1 
 occupied and well occupied, while gamblers, or those -^ 
 who are engaged in any evil or pernicious pursuit, he 
 termed idlers ; and viewed in this light, the poet's 
 sentiment — 
 
 " Not work, but idleness disgraces men," 
 
 would be correct. 
 
 Again, the accuser alleged that he often used to cite 
 that passage in Homer where it is said of Ulysses 
 that — ■ 
 
 " "Whatever king or chief he chanced to meet, 
 Him he encouraged with such cheering words : 
 ' Behoves j'ou, sire, not tremble like a coward ; 
 But, brave yourself, to make your comrades brave.' 
 
 Or if he heard some low plebeian brawl, 
 
 He struck him with his staff, and chid him thus : 
 
 ' Be quiet, fellow, while thy betters talk ; 
 
 For thou, too weak to argue or to fight, 
 
 Art neither good at action or debate.' " * 
 
 as 
 
 And it was alleged that he brought this forward 
 an argument that the poet meant to insinuate that 
 
 * Iliad II., lines lSS-191, and 19S-202.
 
 28 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 plebeians and poor people oiiglit to be beaten. But So- 
 crates never intended any such tiling (for in tliat case lie 
 woxild have been of opinion tliat lie ougbt to be beaten 
 himself) ; but he asserted that such people as were of no 
 benefit to others, either by word or deed, and were incap- 
 able of serving in the army, or in the ministry, or among 
 the general body of the people, should they ever be called 
 upon to do so, more especiaUy if, in addition to all this 
 incapacity, they were also of an overbearing disposition, 
 that such ought to be restrained by any coercive measures 
 possible, even if they happened to be ever so rich. And 
 he showed that he was even diametrically opposed to 
 the sentiments attributed to him, in that he was undis- 
 guisedly well disposed towards the common people, and 
 a friend to men in general ; for though he was sur- 
 rounded by numerous admirers, both native and 
 foreign, he never once exacted any fee fi'om them for 
 their attendance, but ministered of his own stores im- 
 crrudoiuoiv to all. And of these treasures some * having 
 received a small portion fi-om him without payment, 
 sold them again to others at a great price, and were not, 
 
 * Allusion is here made to Aristippus, the founder of the Cjrenaic 
 school of philosophy. He was the first of the disciples of Socrates who 
 took money for teaching. Great difference of opinion prevailed as to 
 his Uwts. Both Xeuophon and Plato held him in great contempt ; and 
 Aristotle speaks slightingly of him; while Horace (Epist. I. 1, 18, and I. 
 17, 23) and Diogenes Laertius (ii. 65, et seq.) think his doctrines worthy 
 of' admiration. For an account of him, and a concise summary of the 
 Cvrenaic school of philosophy, see Smith's "Dictionary of Greek and 
 lioman Biography and Mythology," suh voc. "Aristippus."
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 29 
 
 as he was, kind to the common people, inasmiich as 
 they woukl not hold dissertations with any who had 
 not money to give them in return. 
 
 But Socrates, in truth, when compared with other 
 men, rendered his city far more illustrious than even 
 Lichas did that of the Spartans, renowned as he was on 
 this account ; for Lichas certainly entertained at a 
 banquet the strangers who Avere residing in Sparta on 
 the occasion of the Gymnopsedise ; * whereas Socrates 
 throughout his whole life spent his own substance in 
 making himself of the greatest possible use to any who 
 were willing to avail themselves of his services, by 
 rendering all who came to him better men before they 
 took leave of him. 
 
 On these grounds, then, it appears to me that Socrates, 
 being such a character as he was, deserved honour much, 
 rather than death at the hands of the state, and any one 
 considering the case according to law would find such 
 to be the fact. Thus the law is that if any one is a 
 known thief, or clothes-snatch er, or cut-purse, or 
 burglar, or kidnapper, or temple-plimderer, the penalty 
 attached to such crimes is death, and of these no man 
 was ever more innocent than was Socrates. Neither, 
 
 * A Spartan festival in honour of tlie Pythian Apollo, Artemis, and 
 Leto, held yearly in the month of Hecatonbajon (the end of July or the 
 beginning of August) in commemoration of the victory of the Spartans 
 over the Argives at Thyrsea, B.C. 547. It derived its name from a 
 dance of naked boys which took place during its celebration ; for a full 
 description of which, see Smith's "Dictionary of Greek and Roman 
 Anticittities," mh voc. '■ Gymnopa;dia."
 
 30 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 again, did lie ever cause the state to engage in any un- 
 successful war, or expose it to sedition or treachery, 
 or any otlier kind of niiscliief. He never once in Ms 
 private transactions deprived any man of Ms property, 
 or brought upon him any misfortune, nor did he ever 
 labour under the imputation of having been guilty of 
 any of the aforesaid crimes. 
 
 How, then, could he be obnoxious to the charges of 
 the indictment-he who, instead of not reverencing 
 the gods, as one of the counts had it, was among aU 
 other men a most conspicuous servant of the gods % 
 And instead of corruptmg the youth, which was another 
 count in the indictment, he confessedly induced such of 
 his foUowers as displayed vicious inclinations to desist 
 from them, and encouraged them in the cultivation of 
 the piirest and highest virtue, by the which both states 
 and families are properly governed. His actions, then, 
 being thus regulated, how was he not deserving of 
 marked distinction at the hands of the state ? 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 , But in what respects he appears to me to have been of 
 ! service to his followers, partly by the example of his 
 j own character, and partly by his conversation, of these 
 I shall set down such remiiiiscences as occur to me.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 31 
 
 Now, with, regard to all matters connected with the 
 gods, both his deeds and his Avords were manifestly in 
 accordance with the answer which the Pythian priestess 
 gives to those who inquire as to the method of perform- 
 ing a sacrifice, worshijjping their ancestors, or any rite 
 of a similar kind ; for she replies that by acting in con- 
 formity with the laws of the realm they will act piously.^ 
 And Socrates so acted himself, and recommended the 
 same course to others, asserting that the conduct of 
 those who adopted a different plan savoured both of 
 supererogation and folly. 
 
 Again, he used to pray to the gods simply " that they 
 would grant him good gifts," as believing that they best 
 knew what was good ; and those who prayed for gold 
 or silver, or supreme power, or anything of this kind, 
 he regarded as being on a par with those who pray for 
 gambling, or fighting, or any other matter, of which the 
 issue is quite uncertain as to how it will turn out. 
 
 When he offered humble sacrifices out of his small 
 means, he did not consider himself less meritorious than 
 those who, having multifarious and abundant resources, 
 offered up numerous and rich sacrifices ; for he said that 
 it would ill become the gods to take pleasure in great 
 rather than in small off'erings, since, if they did so, they 
 would often be more pleased with the gifts of the 
 wicked than with those of the good ; nor would man's 
 life be worth having if ofierings made to the gods by 
 the bad were more acceptable to them than those which
 
 32 MEMOIRS OF SOCK A TES. 
 
 were oflFered by the good. But he thought that the gods 
 had most pleasure in the offerings of the most inous, 
 and was fond of quoting the verse which says— 
 
 " Give to the gods according to thy means." 
 
 And he was wont to remark, that the maxim of " accord- 
 ing to one's means," was also strongly to be recom- 
 mended in one's actions towards one's friends and to- 
 wards strangers, and in every relation of life. 
 
 And if he was convinced that he had received some 
 intimation from the gods, he would no more have been 
 persuaded to act contrary to such intimation than any 
 one coiUd have induced him to take a blind man as a 
 guide on a journey, or one who did not know the road, 
 in preference to one who could see, and was acquainted 
 Avith it ; and he condemned the folly of others who, by 
 disregarding the intimations of the gods, sought to avoid 
 the bad opinion of men. As for himself, he held all 
 human behests as not worth a thought in comparison 
 ij-ith the counsel of the gods. 
 
 ■ He accustomed his mind and his body to such a mode 
 of hfe that any one who should adopt a similar one would, 
 unless some heaven-sent dispensation should prevent it, 
 live cheerfully and securely all his days, without any 
 fear of being in want of the necessary nieans for meet- 
 ing his expenses. For he was so frvigal that I doubt 
 Avhether there is any man whose labour would not earn 
 for him as much as satisfied Socrates. He took only 
 
 r
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 33 
 
 sucli food as lie could consume witli a relish, and sat 
 down to table prepared to make his appetite for Ms 
 meal the sauce to season it withal. All kinds of drink 
 were agreeable to him, because he never drank unless 
 he w^as thirsty. And if he ever accepted an invitation to 
 a feast, he accomplished that which most people find ex- 
 tremely difficult, viz., to avoid overloading the stomach, 
 against which danger he very easily guarded himself. 
 And he counselled those who could not do so to abstain 
 from such things as would stimulate them to eating when 
 they were not hungry, or drinking when they were not 
 thirsty ; for he asserted that this was the w^ay to disorder 
 the stomach, the brain, and the mind. And he said, in 
 joke, that it was through a surfeit of such delicacies that 
 Circe changed human beings into swine ; but that it was 
 owing to the admonitions of Mercury and his own absti- 
 nence in refraining from committing similar excesses, 
 that Ulysses escaped such a transformation. 
 
 Thus would he jest upon such subjects, although, at 
 the same time, he thought very gravely about them. 
 And with regard to love affairs, he counselled strict 
 non-familiarity w'ith handsome people, for he said that 
 it was not easy for any one who was on terms of in- 
 timacy with them to keep their senses. Thus, having 
 once heard that Critobulus, the son of Crito, had kissed 
 the handsome son of Alcibiades, he asked Xenophon, in. 
 the presence of Critobulus, " Tell me, Xenophon, did you 
 not think that Critobulus was a prudent man instead of a
 
 34 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 rash one, and sensible rather than inconsiderate and ad- 
 venturous ? " " Certainly I did," answered Xenophon. 
 " Henceforward regard him, then, as a most headstrong 
 and venturesome person, as one who would even throw 
 himself upon swords or leap into the flames." " Why, 
 ' what, I pray you, have you seen him doing to make 
 you judge thus of him % " inquired Xenophon. " Did he 
 not have the boldness to kiss that remarkably handsome 
 youth, the son of Alcibiades 1 " " But, in good sooth," 
 said Xenophon, " if you consider this so hazardous a 
 piece of business, I think I could almost have been in- 
 clined to have adventured it myself." "0 wretched 
 man ! " ejaculated Socrates ; " and what do you think 
 are the penalties you incur by kissing a handsome per- 
 son ? Do you not expect forthwith to become a slave 
 rather than a free agent ? to spend a vast deal upon 
 baleful pleasures ? to be too much engaged to attend to 
 anything that is iiseful or honourable % and to become of 
 necessity engrossed in such objects as not even a lunatic 
 would pursue 1 " "0 Hercules ! " cried Xenophon, 
 "what wonderful consequences you attribute to a 
 kiss!" "Do you marvel at my doing so?" inquired 
 Socrates. "And do you not know," he continued, 
 "that the tarantula, although in size it is not so big as 
 a farthing, yet if its mouth only just comes into contact 
 with a man, it wears him out with pain, and drives him 
 out of his senses'?" " Yes, by Jupiter," answered Xeno- 
 phon, " for the tarantula injects some sort of poison by
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 3 5 
 
 its bite." "And do you not think, foolisli man!" 
 rejoined Socrates, "that liandsome people by tlieir kiss, 
 inject some essence that is invisible to you % Are you 
 not aware that the animal which is called ' a bloom- 
 ing beauty' is by far more formidable than the taran- 
 tula, inasmuch as the latter by contact, but the former 
 without it, and merely by being looked at, injects some- 
 thing, even from a very great distance, of such potency 
 as to° drive people mad? And hence it is, perhaps, that 
 Cupids are called 'archers,' because those who are 
 handsome inflict wounds from afar. But I advise you, 
 Xenophon, to flee as fast as you can whenever you see a 
 handsome person ; and you, Critobulus, I advise to go 
 away for a year ; for you may perhaps in that time, 
 albeit with some difficulty, be healed of your bite." 
 This he insisted upon as the proper course to be pursued 
 in love affairs by those who were apt to be seduced by 
 them, since if the body did not long dwell upon such de- 
 sires the soul would never notice them ; or if the body 
 did entertain them, they would not gain too much power 
 over it. As for himself, he was manifestly so disciplined 
 with regard to such affections, that he kept himself from 
 the company of the beautiful and youtliful, more easily 
 than others do from those who are most ugly and de- 
 formed. 
 
 These were his sentiments with regard to all matters 
 connected with eating, drinking, and love. And he 
 considered that he personally derived no less gratifica-
 
 35 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 tion from tlieni by practising moderation than those do 
 who attach the utmost importance to them ; while, at 
 the same time, he thought that they thus caused Mm 
 infinitely less trouble. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 But if any should think of Socrates (since some, both 
 in ^\Titing and speaking of him, judge him merely from 
 conjecture) as of a man well skilled in encouraging 
 others to virtue, but himself incapable of pioneering 
 them on their way to it, let them consider, not only by 
 Avhat questionings he confuted and exposed those who 
 fancied they kneAV everything, but the conversations 
 which he held every day with his companions ; that so 
 they may determine as to his ability for improving the 
 morals of his disciples. 
 
 And, first, I will relate a dialogue which I once heard 
 him hold with Aristodemus, surnamed " the Little," con- 
 cerning the nature of the Deity. For having been told 
 that the latter neither sacrificed to the gods, nor prayed 
 to them, nor used the divination, but ridiculed those who 
 did so, he said to him-i-" Tell me, Aristodemus, is there 
 any man whom you admire for his talents % " " Certainly 
 there is," replied he. " Mention the name, then, of any 
 that you do admire." " Well, then," said Aristodemus,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCK A TES. 37 
 
 " I admire Homer very much as a writer of epic poetrj- ; 
 Melanippicles as a lyrical, and Sophocles as a tragic 
 writer ; Polycleitus as a sculptor, and Zeuxis as a 
 painter." " And which seem to you the more worthy 
 of admiration— those who fashion images unendowed 
 with sense or motion, or those who form living crea- 
 tures possessing sense and the power of action?" 
 "Those, of course, by a long way, Avho form living 
 creatures, since such are produced, not by chance, but 
 deliberate intelligence." " And as to things concerning 
 which it is not certain for what purpose they exist, and 
 those which are manifestly of some use or other, which 
 of the two would you judge to be works of chance, and 
 which works of intelligence ?" " Evidently it is those 
 which exist for some use that are works of intelligence." 
 " Do you not think, then, that He who in the Ijeginning 
 created man, endowed him with perceptive organs for 
 some useful end,— as, for instance, with his eyes to see 
 that which is \dsible, and his ears to hear that which is 
 audible? Of what use would smells be to us if we 
 had no nostrils ? and what power of tasting sweetness 
 and bitterness, or the various flavours that are pleasant 
 to the mouth, should we have had if the tongue had 
 not been formed to distinguish between them ? Again, 
 does it not appear to you something like a work of 
 design that, since the organ of sight is so delicate, it 
 should be protected by eyelids as by a door, which, 
 when it is necessary to use the. eyes, are thrown open. 
 
 7 
 
 r«^
 
 38 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 but are closed in sleep ; tliat the eyelashes are formed 
 like a sieve, to prevent the winds from injuring them, 
 and that the parts above them are furnished with eye- 
 brows as with eaves, that so the perspiration from the 
 head may do the eyes no harm ; that the organs of 
 hearing should l;e capable of taking in every variety of 
 sound, and yet never become choked xip ; that the front 
 teeth of all animals should be incisors, and the back 
 masticators ; that th^ mouth, through which is trans- 
 mitted the provender which all Living creatures require, 
 should be placed near the eyes and the nostrils ; and 
 since what passes from the body is disagreeable, that the 
 channels through which it is discharged shoiild be turned 
 away and removed as far as possible from the other 
 senses % Can you doubt as to whether such arrangements, 
 carried out.as they are with so much design, are the result 
 of chance or intelligence ? " " No, by Jupiter," answered 
 Aristodemus ; " for to one who regards them in the light 
 that you do, these things appear to be planned by some 1 
 skilful artisan, and well-wisher to all lining creature|4;)( 
 "And to have implanted the desire for offspring and 
 maternal love, and a strong attachment to life among 
 the young, and the greatest possible dread of death 1" 
 "Assuredly these instincts seem to denote design on 
 the part of some Being who intended that living crea- 
 tures should continue to esist." " And with regard to 
 yourself, do you think that you are an intelligent crea- 
 ture V " Put some questions to me upon the point, at
 
 BIEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 39 
 
 any rate, and I will answer you." " Do you sup- 
 pose, again, that there is no intelligence existing any- 
 where but in yourself, and this, as knowing that you 
 have in your own body only a small portion of earth, 
 which is so immense ; and an infinitesimal quantity of 
 water, which is so immeasurable ; and that only an in-' 
 considerable portion of other vast elements enters into " 
 the composition of your members, — can you, I say, being 
 aware of all this, think that you have, by some piece of: 
 luck, appropriated to yourself alone that intelligence! 
 which is found nowhere else, and that other boundlessl 
 and innumerable existences are regulated, as you sug-' 
 gest, without any kind of intelligent design % " " Yes, 
 by Jupiter, that is my opinion ; for I do not see any one 
 who has control over such things in the same way as 
 artificers have over their work here on earth." " But 
 neither do you see your own soul, which is paramount 
 over your body. Hence, according to this line of argu- 
 ment, you may aver that you accomplish nothing by 
 intelligence, but everything by mere chance." And 
 Aristodemus replied — •" But I do not on that account 
 despise the gods ; I merely consider them as of too 
 excellent a nature to demand any service from me." 
 " For that very reason," remarked Socrates, " by how 
 much the gods, being so exalted as they are, condescend 
 to be of service to you, by so much the more does it 
 behove you to honour them." " Be well assured," Aris- 
 todemus replied, " that, if I believed that the gods had
 
 40 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 any regard for men, I would not neglect them." " Do 
 you not believe, then, that the gods have any regard for 
 i^en?-they who, in the first place, created man alone 
 of all animals to stand erect, and so to be capable 
 of seeing farther before him, and contemplate more 
 easily what is above him, and less exposed to injury 
 in those parts where they have placed his eyes and 
 his ears and his mouth ; and, in the next place, have 
 given to such other -nimals as progress by their feet 
 alone, those members as the sole instruments of such 
 progression, but to man have added hands also, where- 
 with to execute most of those works which make us 
 better off than they arel And that, although other 
 creatiTres have tongues, they have endowed the human 
 tongue alone, by its touching sometimes one part of the 
 mouth and sometimes another, with the power of modu- 
 lating the voice and of signifying men's various wants 
 one to another 1 And that the desire for sexual inter- 
 course in other animals has been limited to certain 
 seasons of the year, whereas it exists in us constantly 
 till we arrive at old age 1 It did not, however, satisfy 
 the Deity to take an interest in man's body only, but, 
 what is the most important point of all. He also implanted 
 in him that most excellent essence— his soul. But in 
 the first place, of what other animal does the mind com- 
 prehend the fact of the existence of the gods as the 
 organisers of so stupendous and excellent a system? 
 and what other race except that of men o£fers service to
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 41 
 
 the gods ? or what intelligence exists more adapted 
 tlian that of man to make provision against cold and 
 heat, or hunger and thirst, or to alleviate disease, or to 
 practise feats of strength, or to labour for instruction, or 
 more capable of remembering what it may have heard 
 or seen or learned ? For is it not clearly manifest to you 
 that men pass their lives like gods as compared with 
 other creatures, and excel them in the nature both of 
 their minds and bodies % For neither could a creature 
 endowed with the body of an ox and the feelings of a 
 man accomplish its wishes ; nor do such animals as 
 possess hands, but are devoid of intelligence, obtain any 
 benefit thereby. But do you, who enjoy both these stu- 
 pendous advantages, think that the gods have no regard 
 for you % How, then, can they do anything that will 
 ever convince you that they do take thought for you 1" 
 "By sending," replied Aristodemus, "(as you afiirm 
 that they send to you) counsellors to direct me what I 
 ought and what I ought not to do." " When, then," 
 asked Socrates, "they communicate Avith the Athenians 
 upon their consulting them through divination, do you 
 not think that they commimicate with you also % Or 
 when they forewarn the Greeks, or the whole human 
 race, by means of portents, do you imagine that they 
 make an exception in your individual case, and put you 
 aside with contempt % Again, do you imagine that the 
 gods would have implanted in men's minds a belief that 
 they were able to dispense blessings or miseries among 
 
 "7 ) rodi/i,o<^
 
 42 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 them unless they really possessed that power? and that 
 men, having been so deluded throughout all ages, should 
 never at any time have once discovered the imposition 1 
 Do you not recognise the fact that the oldest and wisest 
 of human communities, both of cities and nations, are 
 the most god-worshipping, and that men, at the most 
 reflective periods of their lives, are most religious % 
 Learn, too, my good friend," he continued, " that your 
 soul, which dwells witlan your body, orders the latter ac- 
 cording to its own will ; so that you are bound to believe 
 that the intelligence which subsists in each object directs 
 that object agreeably to itself ; and you must not ima- 
 gine that while your vision is capable of ranging over a 
 distance of many furlongs, the eye of the Deity is un- 
 able to survey the universe at a glance. Nor should 
 you suppose that while your mind can contemi^late 
 things that are taking place at home and in Egypt and 
 Sicily, that the Divine Intelligence is insufficient to 
 regard all things simultaneously. 
 
 " Moreover, if by showing attention to men you find 
 that they are willing to reciprocate your attentions, and 
 that if you oblige them they are inclined to return the 
 obligation ; and as by communication with others you 
 discover who are sensible people,— so, with regard to the 
 gods, you should make the experiment whether, if you 
 cultivate them, they will not vouchsafe to you their 
 iruidance in matters which are unievealed to mankind 
 " in general ; and you may thus recognise the fact that
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 43 
 
 tlie nature of the Deity is so stupendously constituted 
 as to be able to see all things at once, and to hear all 
 things, and to be present everywhere, and to take cog- 
 nisance of everything at the same time." 
 
 On the whole, then, by such discourses as these 
 Socrates seems to me to have led his associates to 
 refrain from impious, unjust, or dishonourable conduct, 
 not only as being in the sight of men, but even if they 
 were alone in a desert, as they would be always of 
 opinion that there was no one action that they could 
 commit which would escape the notice of the gods. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 AxD if seK-denial be indeed a good and estimable I 
 quality, let us consider whether he did not encouragej 
 its practice when he spoke of it in some such way as 
 this :— " If, my friends, we were going to war, and had 
 to choose a leader under whom we should have the 
 best prospect of being ourselves preserved, and over- 
 coming our enemies, pray, should we appoint such an 
 one as we knew to be unable to withstand gluttony, or 
 wine-bibbing, or sensuality, or pain, or drowsiness? 
 And how could we suppose that a man who succumbed 
 to these could bring us off safe and confound our foes ? 
 Or if towards the close of our lives we wished to com-
 
 44 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 mit our sons to some person to be educated, or our un- 
 married daughters to be taken care of, or our property 
 not to be squandered, should we tbink an intemperate 
 man fit to be appointed trustee for sucb purposes? 
 Should we, again, hand over to an intemperate servant 
 the custody of our herds, our chattels, or the super- 
 intendence of our business \ Or should we be willing to 
 employ such a servant as an agent or purveyor, even 
 without paying him wages % But if we would not 
 engage even as a servant a man who is intemperate, 
 how incumbent is it upon every one to guard against 
 this vice in his own person ! for, unlike the covetous 
 who, when they despoil others of their property, seek to 
 enrich themselves, the intemperate man, when he in- 
 jures his neighbour, does not ameliorate his o^vn con- 
 dition, but, at the same time that he inflicts evil upon 
 his friends, brings far more evil upon himself; if at least 
 it be conceded that to ruin not only his family, but his 
 o-wn body and soul, is the greatest evil that any one can 
 commit. And in society, who would like a man whom 
 he knew to take more pleasure in eating and drinking 
 than in his friends, and to prefer the company of harlots 
 to that of his equals ? Should not every one, then, as 
 considering that temperance is the foundation of virtue, 
 cultivate it before all things in his soul % For who 
 without it can either acquire any good habits, or put 
 them into practice as he ought to do % Or who that is 
 a slave to pleasure, is not ill-conditioned both in his
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 45 
 
 body and mind ? I swear, by Juno, that I think a 
 freeman ought to pray that he may never happen to 
 engage a servant who is intemperate, and that any ser- 
 vant who is too much given to sensual pleasures should 
 supplicate the gods that he may meet with morally 
 conducted masters ; for by these means only can such 
 a man of such a temperament hope to be saved." 
 
 And if his utterances were on this wise, he proved 
 himseK still more continent by his actions than by his 
 words, since he had command over himself not only 
 in respect to corporeal pleasures, but also in those which 
 accrue from the acquisition of money ; for he was of 
 opinion that any one who accepted money promiscuously 
 set up a master over himself, and bound himself to a 
 slavery no less degrading than any other in the world. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The conversations, too, which Socrates held with 
 Antipho, the Sojjhist, are so well worth recording that 
 we must not omit them. 
 
 On one occasion, Antipho wishing to entice Socrates' 
 disciples away from him, walked up to him in their 
 presence, and spoke as follows : — " I thought, Socrates, 
 that those who studied philosophy were invariably ren-
 
 46 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 dered happier thereby ; but you seem to me to have 
 derived the contrary result from it ; at least you appear 
 to Hve in such a style that not even a slave would con- 
 tinue with his master under similar conditions. 1 our 
 food and drink are both of a most wretched kmd ; and 
 you not ouly clress badly, but you wear the same gar- 
 ments both in summer and winter, and are constantly 
 without your shoes and your coat. Moreover, you even 
 refuse to accept money, the acquisition of which gener- 
 ally Gladdens people, and its possession enables them to 
 live more liberally and pleasantly. If, therefore, like 
 instructors in other professions, who teach their pupils 
 to imitate them, you also pursue a similar plan lu 
 regard to your followers, you must perforce look upon 
 yourseH as a teacher of misery." And Socrates replied 
 to these observations thus:-" You appear to me, 
 Antipho, to have conceived the idea that my life is so 
 wretched that I am convinced you would rather die 
 than live as I do. Come, then, let us consider those 
 circumstances which you regard as the hardships of my 
 life. Is it a hardship that while others who receive 
 money are obliged to perform those tasks for which 
 they are paid, I, on the contrary, as I take no fees, 
 am not bound to discourse with any one whom I do 
 not like ? Do you find fault with my way of living 
 because my food is less wholesome and nourishing than 
 yours ? Or is it that my subsistence is more difficult to 
 "be obtained than yours, as being more rare and costly ?
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 47 
 
 Is it, perhaps, because what you provide for yourself is 
 more agreeable to you than what I procure is to me ] 
 Are you not aware that he whose food is the sweetest 
 needs the less sauce, and that he whose drinV is most 
 pleasant, least longs for other beverages than those 
 which he has ? You know that those who change their 
 garments do so on account of the variations of the 
 temperature, and that people wear sandals that they 
 may not be hindered from walking for fear of hurtinrr 
 their feet. But when have you ever heard of my pre- 
 ferring to remain in-doors because of the cold, or fio^ht- 
 ing with any one for the shade because of the heat, or 
 not walking wherever my inclination led me because I 
 dreaded injuring my feet % Are you ignorant of the 
 fact that those who are by nature the weakest grow 
 stronger by training their bodies in those exercises 
 which they practise than those who neglect to do so, 
 and that they bear the fatigue of such exercises more 
 easily? And do you not think that a person who 
 inures his body to whatever may happen to it does not 
 feel hardships less than you who do not so accustom it ? 
 And do you imagine that for him who is not a slave to 
 gluttony, or sleep, or sensuality, anything is a greatt;r 
 incentive to his giving the preference to other pur- 
 suits than the fact that he finds other objects more 
 capable of affording him pleasure when he needs it, and 
 also of inspiring him with the hope that they will be 
 of constant benefit to him ? Of this, at any rate, you
 
 48 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 are aware, that tliose who despair of ever becoming 
 proficients in anything are never happy ; but those 
 who look upon themselves as progressing either m agri- 
 culture or seamanship, or any other occupation that they 
 undertake, are rejoiced at their own success. But do you 
 imagine that the gratification derived from such sources 
 is as" great as that which arises from the consciousness 
 that you vourself are becoming better, and gaining more 
 estimable friends I And such is the^consciousness that 
 I continually experience. 
 
 « But if we should be caUed upon to render active 
 assistance to our friends or the state, which of the two 
 would have most leisure to do so-one who lives as I 
 live, or one whose existence is passed in the way that 
 you' so much commend % And which would be the 
 best-off in a campaign, the man who could not live 
 without sumptuous fare, or he who was satisfied with 
 whatever came to hand % Which, again, wovild hold out 
 longest in a beleagured city, the man who required that 
 wbLh it was very difficult to procure, or he who was 
 content to turn to account such materials as were most 
 easHy obtainable % You seem to think, Antipho, that 
 happiness consists in luxury and lavish expenditure, but 
 my opinion is, that like as the gods require nothing, so ^ 
 for a man to be satisfied with as little as possible argues ■ 
 the nearest resemblance to them ; and as the divine 
 nature is the most perfect, so the nearest approach to 
 that nature is the closest approach to perfection."
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 49 
 
 On another occasion Antipho, while conversing with 
 Socrates, said, " VerUy, Socrates, I believe you to he a 
 just man, but by no manner of means a wise one. And 
 you yourself appear to me also to regard yourself in this 
 light, for you never ask a fee from those who seek your 
 advice. Yet if you possessed a garment, or a house, or 
 any other commodity which you considered to be worth 
 money, you would not give it away for notliing, or part 
 with it for less than its value. It is evident, therefore, 
 that if you thought the privilr ge of attending your dis- 
 courses at all valuable, you would demand for it no less 
 payment than it was worth. You may therefore be a 
 just man, since you do not cheat people for the purpose 
 of Lncreasing your property, but wise you certainly are 
 not, since your wisdom appears to be worth nothing." 
 To which remarks Socrates answered thus : " It is the 
 general beHef with us, Antipho, that beauty and wisdom 
 can alike be disposed of for virtuous or vicious pur- 
 poses, and we designate as prostitutes those who are 
 wiUing to barter their beauty for money ; but if any one 
 attaches himself to an upright and good person, we con- 
 sider him -as a prudent man. And in like manner we 
 style those who are willing to sell wisdom for money to 
 any one who wiU purchase it, ' Sophists,' as if they pro- 
 stituted their wisdom ; but whoever makes a friend of a 
 person whom he knows to be morally disposed, by teach- 
 ing him all the good he can, him we consider to act as 
 becomes a good and worthy member of the community.
 
 50 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 And as for me, Antiplio, just as some other men delight 
 in a good horse, or dog, or bird, so do I personally xejoice 
 still more in the possession of estimable friends ; and 
 if I know of any good thing, I both impart it to them, 
 and recommend it to any others by whom I think they 
 can be assisted in the pursnit of virtue. The treasures, 
 too, bequeathed to us by the wise men of old in the 
 books they have witten, I dip into with my friends, 
 ■ and if, in conning thsm over in the cotirse of our read- 
 ing, we come across anythmg that is good, we make a 
 note of it, and tHnk it great gain if by such studies we 
 become more endeared to one another." 
 
 And again, when Antipho, on one occasion, asked him 
 how he Tould make statesmen of others, while he him- 
 seK never busied himself with state affairs, if, indeed, he 
 
 Ieven understood thera ? " By which means then," in- 
 quired Socrates, " do I engage in state affairs to the 
 greatest advantage-by busying myself in them alone, 
 or by taking care that as many as possible may be 
 capable of conducting them 1 " 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Let us consider, moreover, whether by discouraging 
 arrogance in his followers, he did not incite them to the 
 cultivation of virtue.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 51 
 
 He always insisted that there was no surer road to 
 distinction than that which led a person to excellence 
 in any capacity in which he aimed at enjoying the repu- 
 tation of a proficient. And in order to establish the 
 truth of his assertion, he taught as follows : — " Let us re- 
 flect what a man must do, who, not being a good flute- 
 player, should nevertheless wish to pass as such. Must 
 he not imitate really good flute-players in the externals 
 of the profession 1 And in the first place, as the latter 
 are handsomely eqiupped, and go about attended by 
 a large retinue, so also must the former do. In the 
 next place, as a great many people applaud the latter, 
 so the former must get a great many people to applaud 
 him. Yet must he never undertake to perform ; for if 
 he did, he would at once be convicted of being a ridi- 
 culous pretender, and not a bad flute-player only, but 
 also a vainglorious braggart. Thus, after having in- 
 curred great expense without doing himself any good, 
 and, besides all this, having earned a bad character, how 
 Avould he avoid passing his life otherwise than in dis- 
 comfort, unprofitableness, and derision ? 
 
 " So, again, if any one, not being a skilful general or 
 pilot, should nevertheless wish to appear so, let us con- 
 sider what would be his disposition. If he desired others 
 to think him capable of performing the duties attaching 
 to such appointments, and yet could not convince them 
 of his fitness for them, would not this be a sov;rce of 
 trouble to him ? And if he could so convince them,
 
 52 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 would lie not be still more unfortunately placed ? For 
 it is evident tliat he -who is appointed to steer a vessel, 
 or to command an army, without understanding his 
 duties, would not only bring destruction upon those 
 whom he would be very unwilling to destroy, but 
 would himself be dismissed with ignominy and punish- 
 ment." 
 
 In a similar manner he demonstrated the fact that it 
 was useless for a man who was neither wealthy, nor brave, 
 nor strong, to wish to be thought so ; for he said that they 
 were required to meet demands which were quite be- 
 yond them ; and when it Avas found that they could 
 not comply with such demands as they were deemed 
 capable of complying with, people made no excuses for 
 them whatever. 
 
 Him, too, he designated as no mean impostor who, by 
 cozening people into a false estimate of him, robbed 
 them of their money or their goods ; but he said that he 
 was the most dangerous deceiver of all who, being pos- 
 sessed of no qualifications that were worth a thought, 
 seduced people into the belief that he was capable of 
 acting as head of the state. 
 
 By such discourses as these, then, he appears to me to 
 have endeavoured to dissuade his associates from vain- 
 gloriousness.
 
 BOOK 11. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 E also ajDpeared to me to encourage his dis- 
 ciples in the practice of self-restraint in their 
 appetites for food, and drink, and sensual 
 gratification, and sleep, and in the endurance of 
 cold, and heat, and fatigue, by similar discourses. 
 And being aware that one of his followers was 
 intemperate in such matters, "Tell me," he said, 
 " Aristippus, if you had to take charge of and educate 
 two young men in such a fashion that one should be 
 rendered an efficient governor of his fellow-men, while 
 the other was not even to aim at governing at all, what 
 method would you pursue with regard to their respec- 
 tive educations ? Shall we commence our investigation 
 with their food, as from the first rudiments'?" And
 
 54 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 Aristippus replied-" Food certainly appears to me to 
 be a proper commencement ; for no one could exist 
 at all unless lie took nourishment." " Is it not pro- 
 bable, then, that they will both feel a desire for eating 
 when meal-time arrives T' "No doubt," ans^'ercd 
 Aristippus. "And which of the two should we ac- 
 custom to regard prompt attention to business as of 
 greater importance than the gratification of his appetite? " 
 ''' Of course, by Jove, the one who was to be educated for 
 government, so that the affairs of state should not be 
 neglected during his administration." "Therefore," 
 said Socrates, " when they desired to drink, the same 
 task of being able to resist drinking when he is thirsty 
 is to be imposed on the same youth 1 " " By aU means," 
 answered Aristippus. " And which of the two should 
 we expect to be moderate in sleep, so that he might be 
 able to go to bed late and rise early, and even not to 
 sleep at allif it should be necessary to keep awake?" 
 " To this also," he said, " we should train the same 
 youth." " And which," asked Socrates, " should we 
 bring up to control his sensual appetites, so that by 
 excess in them he might not be hindered in the 
 necessary despatch of business ? " " The same again," 
 replied Aristippus. " And which of the two should w^e 
 require not to shrink from toil, but wilHngly to undergo 
 it 1 " " Once more, him whom we were educating to 
 be a ruler." " And what of their being taught such 
 branches of learning as would enable them to get the
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 55 
 
 better of their adversaries ? To wliicli of tlie two would 
 such knowledge more properly belong '\ " " ]\Iost dis- 
 tinctly to him," said Aristippus, "whom we were 
 educating to be a ruler ; for without this land of 
 knowledge all other acquirements would be useless." 
 " You think, then, that a person who had been thus 
 brought up would be less likely to become a prey to his 
 enemies than other animals are ? For of these, forsooth, 
 some are entrapped by their gluttony, and many others, 
 althoiTgh they are very timid, are enticed by hunger to 
 the bait, and so are captured, while others again are 
 ensnared by thirst." " That is certainly true," said 
 Aristippus. " And are not others taken through their 
 avidity for sexual intercourse, as, for instance, quails and 
 partridges, who at the voice of the hen are excited by 
 the desii-e and expectation of enjoyment, and losing all 
 sense of danger, fall into the lure 1 " Aristippus ad- 
 mitted that it was so. " Does it not, then, seem to 
 you disgraceful for a man to yield to the same passions 
 as the most senseless of animals do 1 As, for example, 
 adulterers enter into forbidden chambers, although they 
 know that the adulterer runs the risk of incurring the 
 penalties of the law, and of being lain in M'ait for, and 
 insulted if he is caught. And since so much misery and 
 disgrace impends over the adulterer, and there are so 
 many pursuits to divert him from the quest of sensual 
 gratification, yet that he should, in spite of all these 
 considerations, incur such tremendous risks,— does not
 
 56 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 tliis appear to you to be the conduct of a person wlio is 
 "iinder the absolute influence of some evil genius % " 
 " It certainly does seem like it to me," said Aristippus. 
 " And as it is the fact that the most necessary businesses 
 of life are transacted in the open air, such as warfare, 
 husbandry, and not the least important of other kinds 
 of occuj)ations, do you not think that it argues a remark- 
 able degree of carelessness that most j)eople are entii'ely 
 untrained to withstand cold and heat ? " Aristippus 
 again replied in the affirmative. " Does it not, then, 
 occur to you that we ought to train him who is de- 
 stined to become a ruler to bear these unflinchingly ? " 
 " Certainly," answered Aristippus. " If, therefore, we 
 designate those who can control themselves in all 
 these points as men capable of ruling, should we not 
 class those who are incapable of so doing among those 
 who have not the slightest claim to be appointed 
 rulers 1 " To this also Aristippus assented. " Well, 
 then, since you know what should be the classification 
 of each of these sets of men, have you ever considered 
 to which of the two classes you would be inclined to 
 remit yourself ]" "I haA^e, indeed," replied Aristippus; 
 " and I should by no means place myself among those 
 who are desirous of ruling ; for it appears to me to 
 indicate a great want of sense in a man who finds it a 
 difficult task to procure the mere necessaries of life for 
 himself, not to be satisfied with seeking to supply his 
 own needs, instead of busying himself about providing
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA 7ES. 57 
 
 his fellow-citizeus with such things as they require. 
 And is it not great folly in him who lacks much that 
 he wishes for, to undertake the management of the state, 
 and so to suhject himself to penalties if he fails to pro- 
 vide all that the state reciurres '? For the state tliinks 
 it right to use its rulers as I use my domestics ; and as 
 I consider it the duty of my servants to supply me in 
 abundance with such things as I want, but not to help 
 themselves to them, so, too, bodies politic think it right 
 so to use their rulers that the latter should secure as 
 many benefits as they can for the state, but should not 
 themselves participate in any of them. Those, there- 
 fore, who are willing to be constantly engaged in the 
 transaction of business both by themselves and with 
 others, I should esteem, when they have been trained 
 after the manner we have indicated, to be fit to rank 
 among people capable of ruling. Myself I class among 
 those who wish to pass their lives as easily and plea- 
 santly as possible." 
 
 Then Socrates said, " Have you any objection to our 
 also considering this question— viz.. Which lead the 
 pleasanter life, the governors or the governed ? " " Not 
 the slightest," rejoined Aristippus. " Well, then, in the 
 first place, of the nations with which Ave are acquainted, 
 the Persians govern in Asia, while the Syrians and the 
 Phrygians and the Lydians are governed. In Europe, 
 the Scythians govern, and the Mfeotians are governed ; 
 M-hile in Libya, the Carthaginians are the governors, and
 
 58 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 the Libyans the governed. Wliicli of these people do you 
 think lives most pleasantly % Or among the Greeks, the 
 nation to which you belong, who seem to lead the most 
 aoreeable lives— those who hold the chief power, or those 
 who are subject to it % " " But," said Aristippus, " I do 
 not regard myself as being in subjection, although I am 
 not one of the governing classes ; for there appears to 
 me to be a middle path between the two, which I endea- 
 vour to keep, and which leads to happiness by avoiding 
 supreme power on the one hand, and servitude on the 
 other." " If indeed," observed Socrates, " this same path 
 of yours, leading neither to supreme authority nor to 
 slavery, kept also clear of aU human association, your 
 remarks would be pertinent. But if while you live 
 among men you refuse either to govern or be governed, 
 and object to yield obedience to the ruling powers, I 
 think that you will perceive how that the stronger have 
 the means, by oppressing the weaker both in public and 
 private life, of reducing them to the condition of slaves. 
 Do those escape yoxir observation who, when others 
 have sown and planted, cut doAvn their corn and lop 
 their trees, and who attack their inferiors and those who 
 will not be subservient to them, so ruthlessly on every 
 occasion, that at last they prevail on them to prefer 
 slavery to contending against their superiors? And, 
 a"ain, do you not know that in private life the coara- 
 geous and the strong, by enslaving the piisillanimous and 
 the weak, reap the fruits of their labours V "I do,"
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 59 
 
 said Aristippus; " but I do not, on that account, and 
 that I may not experience such treatment, intend to 
 shut myself up in one city, but to travel about every- 
 where." Then Socrates said, " Bravo ! This determina- 
 tion of yours is forsooth an excellent one, for now that 
 Sinnis and Sceiron and Procrustes are slain,* no one any 
 longer attacks travellers. And vet those who are the 
 ministers of state still continue to make laws in their 
 several countries on purpose to prevent injury to them- 
 selves, and they employ other friends besides those who 
 are termed ' their partisans ' to assist them ; and they 
 build fortifications round their cities, and procure arms 
 wherewith to repel those that seek to annoy them ; and 
 in addition to these various safeguards, they secure 
 allies from without. And yet, notwithstanding all 
 these precautions, they are attacked. Do you, therefore, 
 having no similar protection, and loitering a consider- 
 
 * Of the three noted robbers mentioned here, Sinnis, who lived on 
 the Isthmus of Corinth, after he had stripped passing travellers, bound 
 them to the top of a fir-tree, which he fastened to the ground by a chain, 
 and killed them by loosening the chain, and allowing the tree to spring 
 back. Sceiron infested the frontier between Attica and Megaris ; and 
 after he had robbed wayfarers, he compelled them to wash his feet, and 
 kicked them over the Sceironian rock into the sea, where they were 
 devoured by a monster that lay at the bottom. Procrustes (the 
 " Stretcher") was a name given to the robber Polypemon, or Damastes, 
 who forced his victims into a bedstead that was either too large or too 
 small for them, and so, by extending or compressing their limbs, he 
 either squeezed or stretched them to death. All these malefactors are 
 fabled to have been destroyed by the mythical hero, Theseus, .who is 
 said to have been contemporary with Hercules, and to have flourished 
 circa 1260-1210 B.C.
 
 60 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 able time along roads where a great many people are 
 molested, when you happen to arrive at any city, where 
 yon are more powerless than any of the inhabitants, and 
 being in such a position, that those who are inclined to 
 do so would sooner attack you,-do you, I say, suppose 
 that the mere fact of your being a stranger would pro- 
 tect you from injury? Or do you rely for your un- 
 munity from danger upon the fact that these cities 
 promise a safe pass to every one upon his arrival or 
 departure? or because you think that if you were cap- 
 tured you would be unprofitable to youc master, on the 
 ground that no one would willingly retain in his house 
 as a servant a man who would not work, and who liked 
 the most expensive diet? Let us consider, too, how 
 masters treat servants of this sort. Do they not restrain 
 their animal propensities by keeping them without 
 food, and hinder them from pilfering by locking np 
 every place from which they can abstract anything ? 
 Do they not hinder them fi-om absconding by fettering 
 them, and correct their laziness by tlie scourge 1 And 
 how do you yoimelf act when you hear that any one ot 
 your own domestics has been guilty of any such faults?" 
 '' I punish him," replied Aristippus, " until I compel 
 him to do his duty as a servant. But tell me, Socrates, 
 in what do those who are brought up to learn the art of 
 ruling, which you seem to me to regard as happiness, 
 differ from those who undergo privations from neces- 
 sity, since they suffer hunger and thirst, and cold and
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 6 1 
 
 want of sleep, and will voluntarily undergo all similar 
 hardships ? For my part, I cannot see how it makes 
 any difference to a man, since his skin is the same, 
 whether he is scourged voluntarily or against his will, 
 or, having a body which is in every respect identical, 
 whether his city is besieged with or Avithout his con- 
 sent, except, indeed, that the charge of folly attaches to 
 him who courts troubles voluntarily." "What then, 
 Aristippus % " said Socrates ; " does not the volvmtary 
 endurance of such calamities appear to you to differ 
 from the involuntary, inasmuch as he who fasts volun- 
 tarily can eat when he pleases, and he who is thirsty can 
 drink, and so on in other matters ; but he who is 
 compelled to abstain by necessity from such things can- 
 not put an end to his inconvenience at his own pleasure ? 
 Besides, those who undergo hardships voluntarily do so 
 in the expectation of some happy issue, as, for instance, 
 the hunters of wild animals toil in the hope of catching 
 them. It is true that such rewards for labour are of 
 little value, biit of those who strive to secure valuable 
 friends, or conquer their enemies, or by invigorating 
 their bodies and minds to govern their own households 
 becomingly, and to become benefactors to their country, 
 and serviceable to their friends, how can you be ri^ht 
 in supposing that such do not find it pleasant to labour 
 for these ends, or that they do not live happy ia their 
 own self-approval, and as the objects of the respect and 
 emulation of others ? Moreover, indolence and indul-
 
 62 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 aence in momentary pleasures neither conduce to a 
 healthy state of hody, so as to make it active as the 
 gymnastic trainers define activity, nor do they bring o 
 the mind any knowledge that is worthy to be so called ; 
 whereas careful training, combined with patient endur- 
 ance, makes men capable of following the paths of 
 virtue and rectitude, as good men define them, and as 
 Hesiod somewhere says — 
 
 •"Vice abounds eveiywhere, and lies not hid. 
 'Tis easy of approach, and dwells at hand ; 
 But before Virtue's shrine the immortal gods 
 Have stationed Toil. The way to it is long, 
 Rugged and steep at first ; but gain the top, ^ ^ 
 
 Then that which was once rough becomes all smooth. 
 
 « And Epicharmust bears testimony to the same fact 
 in the following line— 
 
 " ' The gods dispense all happiness to toil.' 
 <' And in another place he says— 
 
 " ' Seek not for ease, poor fool, lest pain be thine.' 
 
 • "Works and Days," lines 287-2f)2. v.- n ■ 
 
 + A comic Doric poet, born in the island of Cos (now Stanchio), circa 
 540 B c He is said by some authorities to have written fifty-two 
 comedies, by others thirty-five, and the latter is the number of which 
 thrtmes hLe been recorded by Athen«us. Only fragments of them 
 have come down to us, which will be found in the ''Flagmen a 
 Philosophor^im Gr.corum,' by F. G. A. MuHach, Paris 1860 2 vols 
 8T0, vol. i. pp- 131-137. Plautus is said by Horace (Epist. II. line o3) 
 to have founded his style on that of Epicharmus.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 63 
 
 " Prodicus,* too, the Soxaliist, in liis treatise concerning 
 Hercules (wMcli lie ostentatiously produces to most of 
 his disciples), makes the same assertion with regard to 
 virtixe, saying, as far as my memory serves me, some- 
 what as follows:— He tells us that Hercules, when he 
 was advancing from boyhood to manhood (at which 
 period youths, becoming their own masters, indicate 
 whether they will enter life by the paths of virtue or 
 those of vice), retired to a quiet spot, and sat doA\ni to 
 make up his mind as to the question which of the two 
 tracks he should follow. That two females of imposing 
 presence seemed to approach him, the one lovely of 
 aspect and lady-like in demeanour, her adornments the 
 natural elegance of her figure, the modesty of her looks, 
 the sobriety of her demeanour, and the purity of her 
 garments. The other pampered to a gross softness, and 
 having her complexion artificially beautified, so that it 
 appeared both whiter and redder than was natural. Her 
 stature, too, appeared heightened and her eyes dilated 
 by art, and she was clad in a robe by means of which 
 her charms were conspicuously displayed ; and as she 
 
 * Prodicus, the Sophist, was a native of the island of Ceos (now Zea), 
 and flourished probably circa 425 b. 0. Like the rest of the Sophists, he 
 delivered lectures to, and held discussions with, any who chose to pay 
 for them, either privately or in classes. The arguments were conducted 
 by means of question and answer in the manner set forth in the text as 
 that adopted by Socrates, and the object was for the master to frame his 
 questions so as to effect a rediictio ad dbsurdum, and to confute his 
 pupils by making the worse side of a question appear the better.— See 
 Thirlwall's "History of Greece," vol. iv. pp. 257-280.
 
 64 MEMOIR^ OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 contemplated herself, she seemed to be constantly- 
 watching for the admiration of others, and frequently 
 to be glancing back at her own shadow. As these two 
 approached nearer to Hercules, she whom I have first 
 described appeared to. advance at the same pace, but 
 the other, being eager to anticipate her, ran up be- 
 fore her, and said, ' I perceive, Hercules, that you are 
 in doubt which road to pursue upon your entrance 
 into life. Now, if 70U will make me your friend, I 
 will conduct you along the most agreeable and smooth- 
 est paths ; there is no pleasure of which you shall not 
 taste, and you shall never experience any kind of annoy- 
 ance. For, in the first place, you shall not cudgel 
 your brains about war or business, but pass your time 
 in considering what eatables and drinkables you find 
 most agree^le to your palate, what sights and sounds 
 especially delight you, what chiefly pleases your senses 
 of smelling and touching, whose affection gratifies you 
 most, how you may sleep most softly, and how you 
 may obtain all these enjoyments with the least possible 
 trouble. And if at any time the faintest idea of want of 
 the means to procure such pleasures should occur to you, 
 I shall never recommend either bodily toil or mental 
 exertion as being necessary to provide such things, but 
 you shall spend what others have earned, never abstain- 
 ing from any possible source of money-getting, for I 
 allow my followers to avail themselves of every con- 
 ceivable plan for benefiting themselves.' Then Her-
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 65 
 
 cules, when he had heard this speech, said, ' O hidy, 
 what is thy name % ' and she re2Dlied, ' My friends call 
 me Felicity, but my enemies, libelling me, give me the 
 name of Vice.' 
 
 " Then the other female advanced, and said, I also 
 have come to you, Hercules, as being acquainted Avith 
 your parents, and knowing your natural disposition 
 when you were young. Hence I entertain the hope 
 that if you follow the path that leads to my abode, you 
 will become the accomplisher of worthy and illustrious 
 exploits, and that I shall appear more honourable and 
 comely through your noble deeds. I will not, however, 
 cajole you with any specious promises of pleasure, but 
 will truthfully lay beforeyou realities as they are ordained 
 by the will of the gods, Now, the gods grant nothing 
 to mankind without labour and diligence; therefore 
 whether you wish them to be propitious to you, you must 
 worship them ; or whether you desire the love of your 
 friends, you must make yourself useful to them ; or 
 whether you covet honours at the hands of any state, 
 you must benefit it ; or whether you seek to be regarded 
 as an object of admiration throughout the whule of 
 Greece on accoimt of your merits, you must endeavour 
 to be of service to the whole of Greece ; or whether you 
 wish the earth to yield you abundant crops, you must 
 cultivate it ; or if you intend to make money by cattle- 
 feeding, you must take care of your herds ; if you 
 incline to warlike enterprises as a means of advance-
 
 66 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 ment and of obtaming freedom for your friends wHle 
 you confound your enemies, you must both study the 
 arts of war themselves from those who are skHled in 
 them, and must also practise how to employ them 
 advantageously ; and if you ^ish your body to become 
 muscular, you must accustom it to obey your mind, and 
 exercise it with labour and hard training.' 
 
 " And Vice interrupting her, said (as Prodicus relates), 
 * Do you see, Hercules, how rugged and long the road 
 is by which this woman would lead you to enjoyment, 
 contrasted with the smooth and short paths along which ^ 
 I shall conduct you to happiness % ' 
 
 « ' Miserable wretch ! ' exclaimed Virtue ; ' and what 
 blessings dost thou possess, or with what substantial 
 pleasures art thou acciuainted, seeing that thou art un- 
 willing to exert thyself in any way to obtain them ? 
 Thou who dost not even wait for the natural craving 
 for what is agreeable, but fillest thyself with all sorts 
 of mixtures, eating before you are hungry, and drinking 
 before you are athirst, contriving how to keep cooks 
 that you may feed delicately, and buying high-priced 
 wines, and running about seeknig for snow in summer. 
 And that you may sleep well, you prepare not only soft 
 beds, but couches and cushions to recline upon ; for you 
 desire to sleep not on account of the labour you under- 
 go, but because you have nothing to do. You gratify 
 your passions unseasonably by all sorts of stratagems, 
 and make tools both of men and women ; for you train
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 67 
 
 your friends to be deLauehees by niglit, and sluggards 
 during the most useful part of tlie day. Although you 
 are immortal, you are rejected of the gods, and despised 
 of good men. You never hear that sweetest of sounds, 
 the praise of yourself, neither have you ever once beheld 
 the honest labour of your own hands. Who would 
 believe your assertions, or who would assist you in your 
 need % Who that had any sense would venture to join 
 the orgies in which you indulge, since those who do so, 
 even when they are young, are impotent in body, and 
 when they grow older, become imbecile in mind ? 
 Being brought up in idleness and effeminacy in their 
 youth, they pass their old age in squalid misery, 
 ashamed, on the one hand, of their past deeds, and, on 
 the other, weighed dowai with what remains for them 
 to complete ; so that liaving exhausted all their means 
 of enjoyment in early life, they lay up for themselves 
 misery for their declining days. But I am the com- 
 panion of the gods and of good men, and no illustrious 
 action, divine or human, is accomplished without me. 
 I am most honoured, too, both among gods and men, by 
 those whom it most concerns to cultivate me. I am 
 regarded with affection by artisans as a help-mate ; by 
 householders as a faithful guardian ; as a well-disposed 
 champion by servants ; as an active sharer in the em- 
 ployments of peace ; a firm ally in the operations of 
 war ; and a most excellent partner in friendship. 
 
 " 'Moreover, those who cherish me enjoy both their
 
 68 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 meat and their drink tliorouglily, without attaching un- 
 due importance to such matters, for they do not partake 
 of either till they feel the need of them. Moreover, 
 they rest better than the indolent, and are neither vexed 
 at the want of sleep, nor neglect their duties from over- 
 indulgence in it. The young delight in the praises of 
 their elders, while the old are pleased at being rever- 
 enced by the young. They look back iipon their past 
 deeds with satisfacH.on, and are rejoiced when they 
 succeed by honest means in their present undertakings. 
 Through my inspiration they are beloved by the gods, 
 dear to their friends, and venerated by their country ; 
 and when the destined end of life overtakes them, they 
 do not lay them down in oblivion and dishonour, but 
 they flourish in men's memories, being celebrated in 
 song for evermore. By pressing onwards in such a 
 course as this, Hercules, thou son of excellent 
 parents, thou too canst secure to thyself the most 
 lasting happiness.' 
 
 " Somewhat after the above fashion, too, Prodicu3 
 would relate how that Hercules was educated by Virtue ; 
 but he clothed his narrative in much more ornate 
 language than that which I now employ. It becomes 
 you, therefore, Aristippus, to ponder over this allegory, 
 and to endeavour to take heed as to what conduct you 
 pursue during the remainder of your life."
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES, 6g 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Having heard one day that his eldest son, Lamprocles, 
 had heen angry with his mother, he said, " Tell me, my 
 son, whether you know that there are certain people 
 who are termed ungrateful ? " "I know it well," 
 answered the youth. " And do you understand what 
 it is they do to acquu-e such a name 1" "I do," re- 
 plied Lamprocles ; " for men call those ungrateful who, 
 Mdien they have received a kindness, do not return it, 
 albeit they have the means of doing so." " They 
 appear to you, then, to class the ungrateful with the 
 unjust V " They do," said the son. "And have you 
 ever, noAV, really considered whether, as it is thought an 
 unjust proceeding towards our friends to make slaves 
 of them, but a just one to do so to our enemies, 
 so it is unjust to act ungratefully towards our friends, 
 but just to act in the same manner towards our 
 enemies 1 " " By all means," replied Lamprocles ; 
 " and any man who has received a kindness, whether 
 from friend or foe, and does not seek to return it, is, in 
 my opinion, unjust." " If, then, this really is so, in- 
 gratitude would be manifest injustice 1 " The youth 
 assented. " The greater benefits, then, that a man 
 receives without returning them, the more unjust he 
 would be ]" To this also Lamprocles agreed. "Whom, 
 then," returned Socrates, " can we find who receive
 
 70 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 greater benefits from others than children do from their 
 parents -the former owing their very existence to the 
 latter, as they also do the opportunity of witnessing so 
 many lovely objects of sight, and partaking of as many 
 blessings as the gods vouchsafe to men ; blessings which 
 appear indeed to ns so invaluable that we shrink, more 
 than we do from anything else, from relinquishing 
 them ; and therefore bodies politic have made death the 
 penalty for the gravest crimes, on the ground that they 
 could not suppress injustice through fear of anything 
 more terrible ? 
 
 " And you surely do not suppose that men beget 
 children merely for the sake of carnal gratification, 
 since the streets and brothels afford plenty of oppor- 
 tunity for indulging in this 1 But we eAddently consider 
 what kind of women are likely to bring us the finest 
 progeny, and uniting ourselves with them, we procreate 
 children. The man, on the one hand, supports the 
 mother of his family, and provides as abundantly as he 
 can for their offspring everything that he thinks will 
 conduce to their well-being in life. The woman, on 
 her part, conceives the child, and undergoes all the 
 pains and perils of parturition in agony and hazard of 
 her life, imparting the nutriment by which she is her- 
 self supported ; and having borne the burthen the fiill 
 tune, and brought it forth with many tliroes, she 
 nourishes and cherishes it, although she has received no 
 previous benefit from it, nor does the infant know who
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 71 
 
 it is that treats it so lovingly, and is incapable of signi- 
 fying its own wants ; but she, judging what will be 
 best for it, and what will please it most, tries to gratify 
 it, and feeds it for a long time, and patiently toils for 
 it day and night, not knowing what return she will 
 receive for all her care. Nor do parents consider it 
 sufficient to provide bodily sustenance only, but when 
 they deem their children fit to learn, they also teach 
 them those lessons which they themselves esteem useful 
 in life; and whatever they thiuk that any one can 
 teach better than themselves, they send their sons to 
 him at their own expense, and adopt all the means in 
 their power to render them as perfect as possible." 
 
 To these remarks the youth replied thus :— " But 
 granted that my mother has done all tliis, and even much 
 more than this, who can put up with her fierce temper 1 " 
 « And which,'' asked Socrates, " do you think is most 
 difficult to bear— the fierceness of a wild beast, or that oi 
 a mother 1 " " That of a mother," answered Lamprocles ; 
 " at least, of such a mother as mine is." " Has she, then, 
 either by biting or kicking you, ever inflicted upon you 
 such injuries as many have sustained from wild beasts 1 "' 
 "No, by Jupiter," rejoined the son; "but she says 
 things which no one, for all the world, would be willing 
 to listen to." "And do you," said Socrates, "forget 
 how much vexation you have caused her by the peevish- 
 ness both of your words and deeds ever since the days 
 of your childhood, and how you have kept her em-
 
 73 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 ployed both by clay and night, and what anxieties she 
 suffered when yon were ill 1 " " But I have never once 
 said or done anything to cause her shame." " What, 
 then?" rejoined Socrates ; " do you consider it harder to 
 listen to what she says, than it is for actors to bear 
 the dreadful abuse which one heaps upon another in 
 tragedies ? " " But, I suppose," said Lamprocles, " that 
 actors think little of such abuse, because they reflect 
 that in the dialogu'^. neither the speaker who utters 
 reproaches gives vent to them with any evil intent, nor 
 does he Avho threatens do so with any ^dew of in- 
 flicting injury." " And being w^ell aware, as you are, 
 that your mother, whatever she says to you, says it not 
 only without any mischievous design, but as being more 
 anxious for your welfare than she is for that of any one 
 else, are you offended with her ? Or do you imagine 
 that your mother harbours evil thoughts against you ? " 
 " No,- in truth," answered the yoxith, " I do not 
 entertain such a notion.'' Then Socrates said, " But 
 do you not assert that she, Avho is so kind to you, and 
 who takes the greatest possible care of you when you 
 are ill, so that your health may be re-established, and 
 that yoii may want for nothing that is needful for you, 
 and who, moreover, invokes all the blessings of Heaven 
 upon your head, and offers up her prayers for you, is a 
 harsh parent ] My opinion, indeed, is, that if you can- 
 not endure such a mother as this, you cannot endure 
 anything that is good. But tell me," he continued,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 73 
 
 " whether it is your opinion that you ought not to show 
 attention to anybody, or are you prepared to try and 
 please nobody, and neither to follow nor obey a military 
 commander or any other ruler ? " " No, by Jupiter," 
 answered Lamprocles, " such are not my sentiments." 
 "Would you be willing, then, to make yourself agreeable 
 to your neighbour, so that he might kindle a fire for you, if 
 you wanted one, or help you to benefit yourself; or, if you 
 happened to meet with misfortune, to render you prompt 
 and hearty assistance ? " "I am willing," answered the 
 son. "Again, if you fell in with a fellow-traveller or 
 fellow-voyager, or any other companion, would it make 
 no difference whether he should become your friend or 
 your enemy, and do you think that the good-will of 
 such persons is worth cultivating ? " "I do think so," 
 said he. " Are you, then, ready to pay attention to such 
 as these, while you reconcile it to yourself to show no 
 respect to your mother, who loves you more than any 
 one else? Do you not know, too, that the state 
 neither takes cognisance of, nor legalises a suit for any 
 species of ingratitude, but overlooks the non-return of 
 favours received ; whereas if any one neglects to pay 
 due attention to his parents, it imposes a penalty on 
 him, and degrades him by incapacitating him from 
 acting as chief magistrate, on the ground that the holy 
 sacrifices which are offered up on behalf of the state 
 would not be held sacred if he were to ofiiciate, nor any 
 otlier function performed by him be in accordance with
 
 74 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 the laws of tonour and justice \ And, verily, if any one 
 neglects to keep up the tomb of Ms deceased parents, 
 tHs, too, tlie state inquires into in its scrutiny into the 
 qualifications of candidates for the magistracy. You, 
 therefore, my son, if you are wise, yAW beseech the 
 gods to pardon you if you have in any way neglected 
 your mother, lest they, on their part, should be un- 
 wiUing to show any favour to you because of your 
 ingratitude. You will also have respect to the opinion 
 of°men, lest, if they see that you despise your parents, 
 they should aU disregard you, and you should thus be 
 openly deserted by your friends ; for if people surmise 
 that you are ungrateful to your parents, no one will 
 give you credit for returning any kindness that he him- 
 self may show you." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Ais-D on one occasion, having heard that the brothers 
 ChEBrephon and ChiBrecrates, both of whom were 
 acquaintances of his, had quarrelled, he said to the 
 latter, when he saw him, "Tell, me, Chsrecrates, you 
 surely are not one of those who esteem riches more 
 highly than you do brothers ? And this, too, as know- 
 ing that wealth is senseless, but a brother endowed with 
 sense, and while the former requires protection, the
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 75 
 
 latter is able to afFord it ; and, moreover, that there is 
 an abundance of the one, but the other exists indivi- 
 dually only. It is also a marvellous circumstance that a 
 man should regard brothers as encumbrances to him be- 
 cause he does not possess their fortunes, while he does not 
 regard his fellow-citizens in the same light, because he 
 possesses not their fortunes. In the latter case, how- 
 BA^er, he may perhaps argue that it is better for him to 
 live in safety on a mere competency among others, 
 than to live by himself exposed to danger, albeit 
 he shared the possession of all the property of his 
 fellow-citizens ; whereas, in the case of brothers, men 
 ignore such considerations. Those, too, who are in a 
 position to do so, engage servants that they may have 
 people to help them in their work, and provide friends, 
 as knowing that they are in need of allies ; but they 
 neglect brothers as though they could make friends of 
 their fellow-citizens, but not of their brothers. And 
 yet it conduces greatly to friendship to have been born 
 of the same parents, and to have been brought up to- 
 gether, since even among beasts a certain affection is 
 engendered among those who have been reared together. 
 And, moreover, men pay more respect to those who 
 have brothers than to those who have none, and are 
 less apt to impose upon them." 
 
 And Chserecrates said, " But if the difference between 
 us were a slight one, it would perhaps be my duty to 
 bear with my brother, and not to avoid him on trilling
 
 56 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 grounds, for, as you observe, a brother is a blessing if 
 he behaves as a brother should do. But since my 
 brother is in no respect what he ought to be, but m 
 every point just the reverse, why should a man attempt 
 impossibilities % " And Socrates answered, " But, Chee- 
 recrates, is Chjsrephon unable to please anybody, as he 
 is imabie to please you, or are there any whom he really 
 can please % " " That is the very reason, Socrates, why 
 I think that he deserves my hatred, for whereas he is 
 able to please others, to me, whenever he is present, he 
 is upon all occasions a nuisance rather than an assist- 
 ance, both by his deeds and words." "So then," re- 
 joined Socrates, « as a horse is a nuisance to a person 
 Avho cannot manage liini when he tries to do so, in like 
 manner a brother is a nuisance to him yvho tries to 
 manage him, but cannot succeed in doing so." " But," 
 asked°Ch^recrates, "why should I be ignorant of the 
 proper way to manage a brother, when I know how to 
 speak weU of him who speaks well of me, and to act 
 kindly to him who acts kindly by me ] To one, how- 
 ever, who endeavours to injure me both by word and 
 deed, I can neither speak nor act kindly, nor shall I ever 
 seek to do so." Then Socrates answered, " These are 
 curious arguments, Chserecrates, for suppose you had a 
 dog that was a good sheep-dog, and was fond of your 
 shepherds, but growled when you came near him, you 
 surely would not display anger towards him, but would 
 endeavour to soothe him by kindness ; whereas, in the
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCK A TES. 77 
 
 case of your brother, althougli you profess that lie 
 would be a great blessing to you if lie conducted him- 
 eelf as he ought to do, and admit that you know how to 
 act and speak well of a person, you do not attempt to 
 contrive a method to induce him to behave in the best 
 possible manner to you." " I fear, Socrates," remarked 
 Chterecrates, " that I do not possess the art of making 
 Cha^rephou behave as he ought towards me." " And 
 yet," said Socrates, " you need not, as it appears to me, 
 devise any deep or novel plot against him, for I think 
 that by appliances which are well known to yourself 
 you can bring him to regard you very highly." " You 
 must fii-st tell me," said Cha;recrates, " whether you 
 think that I am acquainted with any love-charm which, 
 although I am in possession of it, has nevertheless 
 escaped my own observation 1 " " Tell me now," said 
 Socrates, " suppose you wished to prevail upon one of 
 your acciuaintances to invite you to sup Avith him when 
 he was about to offer a sacrifice, what would you do V 
 " I should begin," said Chterecrates, " by first inviting 
 him when I ofiered my sacrifice." " And if you wished 
 to get one of your friends to look after your property 
 while you were away from home, what would you do ]" 
 " I should, of course, undertake to look after his pro- 
 perty while he was away." " And if you desired to be 
 hospitably entertained by a foreigner when you visited 
 his country, what would you dol" "I should most 
 assuredlv be the first to entertain him when he visited
 
 78 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 Atliens ; for if I songlit to secure Ms aid in carrying out 
 for me the o"bjects for wMch I visited Ms country, it 
 - would certainly behove me to do tlie same for him 
 in mine." " Then, have you been for a long tinie 
 unwittingly acquainted with all the love-charms that 
 are efficacious among mankind? or are you afraid to 
 initiate an interchange of good offices with your brother 
 lest you should appear to degrade yourseK by so doing ] 
 And yet that man is deemed especially praiseworthy 
 who is foremost to damage his enemies and benefit his 
 friends. Hence, then, if Chterephon had appeared to me 
 more naturally adapted than you to take the initiative in 
 such a coiirse, I should have essayed to have persuaded 
 Mm to have been the first to try and make you Ma 
 friend ; but, as it is, you seem to me to be the most 
 likely, by making advances to him, to bring about a re- 
 conciliation." And Cheerecrates said, " You speak un- 
 reasonably, Socrates, and not at all like yourself, when 
 you recommend me, who am the younger, to make the 
 first advances, since the contrary is certainly the uMver- 
 sally established practice among all men, viz., that the 
 elder should take the lead in everytMng, both in deed 
 and in word." "How so r' asked Socrates. "Is it 
 not the universally estabUshed practice that the 
 younger should yield the path to the elder when they 
 meet in the road ; that he should rise up for the other to 
 sit down ; that he should honour him Avith the softest. 
 couch; and that he should give place to Mm in conver-
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 79 
 
 Scaiion ] But however that may be, do not you, my good 
 friend, hesitate about endeavouring to conciliate this man, 
 and he will very soon listen to you. Can you not perceive 
 how covetous of honour and liow liberal-minded he is % 
 Badly-disposed and mean peojde you cannot affect other- 
 wise than by making them presents, but honourable 
 and good men you can best influence by meeting them 
 in a friendly spirit." And Chterecrates said, "But 
 suppose I followed your advice, and he should behave 
 no better % " " Why, then, what do you risk," asked 
 Socrates, "except that you prove your o^to goodness 
 and brotherly love, and his depravity and unworthiness 
 of affectionate treatment 1 But I do not think that any- 
 thing of this kind will happen ; for I imagine that he, 
 when he finds you challenging him to such a contest, 
 will be very willing to enter the lists with you, in order 
 that he may gain the victory over you in Idndness both 
 of words and deeds. You are now, however, both of 
 you, in the same condition as if the two hands which 
 Providence has created to assist each other should omit 
 to perform this office, and be employed in hindering 
 each other ; or as if the two feet, which were formed by 
 the divine ordinance to co-operate wath one anothei, 
 were to neglect to do so, and become a mutual obstruction 
 one to the other. Would it not be great folly and mad- 
 ness to use to our injury those objects that were created 
 for our good 1 And yet, as it seems to me, the Deity has 
 designed brothers to be of greater help one to another
 
 8o MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 than hands or feet or eyes, or tlie other members which 
 nature has given to men in pairs. For hands, even if 
 it were necessary for them to act in concert ^vith regard 
 to things more than a cubit asunder, could not do so, 
 neither could feet travel together simultaneously to 
 places at a cubit's length apart ; nor eyes, which seem to 
 be able to discern objects at an immense distance, see 
 things that are ever so close to them both in front and 
 behind them at the same moment. But brothers, if 
 united, can, even when they are widely separated in 
 space, both act in concert, and mutually assist one an- 
 other." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 And I once heard him utter sentiments upon the 
 subject of friends, which seemed to me capable of being 
 of the greatest advantage both in the acquisition and 
 use of them ; for he said that although he heard many 
 people declare that there was no possession so valuable 
 as a wise and good friend, yet he observed that the 
 generality of mankind were devoted to every pur- 
 suit rather than to that of gaining friends. He re- 
 marked that he noticed their excessive zeal in the 
 acquisition of houses, and lands, and slaves, and cattle, 
 and goods, and their anxiety to retain their own pro-
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 8 1 
 
 perty ; but as for a friend, whom they profess to be the 
 greatest of all blessings, he declared that most people, 
 so far as he could perceive, neither took the least pains 
 to acquire one, nor studied how to retain those that they 
 had already gained. Again, when friends and servants 
 were ill, he said that he noticed how some people 
 would both call in doctors for the latter, and use all 
 possible exertions for their recovery, while to the 
 former they paid no regard whatever. And if both 
 died, they grieved for their servants, and considered 
 that they had suffered a loss, but that they thought 
 nothing of being bereaved of their friends. Also, of 
 their other possessions, that there was nothing which 
 they left without their own personal care and super- 
 vision, but that when their friends required attention, 
 they utterly neglected them. 
 
 In addition to these remarks, he said that most 
 people knew the number of their other goods and 
 chattels, however large it might be ; but with regard 
 to their friends, although they had but a few of them, 
 they were not only ignorant of how many they were, 
 but even when they attempted to enumerate tliem to 
 those who asked them to do so, they omitted some 
 whom they had previously reckoned, so little did 
 they value their friends. Yet to which of their otlier 
 possessions was not a good friend, upon comparison, 
 preferable \ What kind of horse or team of cattle waj 
 BO useful as a good friend 1 "What servant was so kindl^v
 
 82 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 disposed, or so steadfast? What other acquisition so 
 absolutely advantageous ? For a true friend holds him- 
 self in readiness to supply all his friend's wants, both of 
 a private and public character ; and if the latter desires 
 to render a service to any one, he furthers his wishes in 
 this respect. And if any cause for alarm disturbs him, 
 his friend comes to his aid, sometimes by sharing his 
 expenses, sometimes by co-operating with him ; taking 
 counsel with him in some cases, and in others compel- 
 ling him to use force ; greatly rejoicing at his success, 
 and zealously supporting him when he falls into mis- 
 fortune. There is no one thing which a man's hands 
 execute for him, or his eyes behold, or his ears hear, 
 or his feet perform, that a serviceable friend fails to 
 accomplish ;'and frequently a friend does those things 
 for a friend which the latter has not himself done, or 
 perceived, or heard, or acted upon. And yet while some 
 people carefully foster trees on account of their fruit, 
 most men are indolently and stupidly neglectful of their 
 friends. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Once, too, I heard another of his discourses, which 
 seemed to me to exhort the hearer to examine himself, 
 Bo as to ascertain of what value he was to his friends ;
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 8, 
 
 J 
 
 for, seeing one of his disciples neglecting a friend v.lio 
 was sore pressed by poverty, he asked Antisthenes, 
 when the man who had so misbehaved himself and 
 many others were present, " Tell me, Antisthenes, are 
 friends to be had for certain prices, as slaves are % For 
 of slaves one perhaps is worth two minse,* another not 
 even half a mina, another five mina), another as miich 
 as ten. Nicias, the son of Niceratus, is said to have 
 given a talent for an overseer for his silver mines. And 
 I am considering," he continued, " whether, as there are 
 certain ascertained values for slaves, so the same holds 
 good with regard to friends." " Without doubt, it does," 
 said Antisthenes ; " at least, I, for my part, should rate 
 one man as a friend at a much higher price than two 
 minse, while another I should hold dear at even half a 
 mina; another I should prefer to ten mina3, and an- 
 other I would purchase as my friend at the cost of all 
 my possessions and resources." " Such being the case, 
 then," said Socrates, " it would be well for every man 
 to examine himself as to how he is estimated by his 
 friends, and to endeavour to be as highly prized by 
 them as possible, so that they may be the less likely to 
 desert him. For," he continued, " I often hear one man 
 say that his friend has given him up, and another, that 
 such an one whom he believed to be a friend has pre- 
 ferred a mina to him. On all these grounds I am 
 considering whether, as when one sells a bad slave, and 
 * An Attic mina was worth £4 Is. Sd. ; a talent about £245.
 
 84 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 parts with him for anything that he .vill fetch, so also 
 
 in the case of a worthless friend, it is advisable to give 
 
 him np when one can get more for him than his value. 
 
 But I never see good slaves sold, or good friends given 
 
 up." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 And he appeared to me to inculcate caution in the 
 choice of friends by such conversations as the follow- 
 ing :_" Tell me, Critobulus," said he, "if we needed a 
 good friend, on what grounds should we try to eelect 
 one ? Should we not seek for one who could resist 
 gluttony, hard drinking, sensuality, sloth, and idleness ; 
 for he who succumbs to these would not be capable of 
 doing his duty either to himself or to his friend 1" 
 " Of^course he would not," replied Critobulus. " Does 
 it not, then, appear to you that we should avoid one 
 who is dominated by such propensities 1 " « Certainly," 
 said the other. "Again," asked Socrates, "any man 
 who through his extravagance is no longer independent, 
 but is always seeking assistance from his neighbours, 
 who, w^hen he borrows, cannot repay, and if he cannot 
 borrow, hates him who will not lend, does not such an 
 one appear to you a dangerous friend ? " " Very much 
 so," replied Critobulus. " Should we, then, not avoid
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 85 
 
 liim?" "Assuredly we should," said Critobulus. 
 " Aud what of him who, having the means of making 
 money, and desiring to be very rich, on this account 
 becomes churlish, and delights in receiving but grudges 
 paying?" "Such a character," said Critobulus, "Ap- 
 pears to me more detestable than the former." " What, 
 then, of him who, from his love of accumulating wealth' 
 leaves himself leisure for nothing else but the pursuit 
 of it ? " " He, too, according to my opinion, is to be 
 avoided, since he would be of no use to any one who 
 required his services." "And what do you think of 
 him who is of a quarrelsome disposition, and is inclined 
 to set people at variance with their friends ? " " Such an 
 one as this, too, is by all means to be shunned." "Sup- 
 pose a man, however, to have none of these failing,^, 
 but to be very willing to receive favours, while he"is 
 utterly heedless of ever returning them % " " Neither 
 would such a friend as this be of any service. But what 
 sort of a person, Socrates, should we try to make our 
 friend ? " " Truly, I think one who, contrariwise to all 
 this, is both self-continent with regard to his bodily 
 pleasures, generally conscientious and fair-dealing, and 
 anxious not to be outdone in benefiting those" who 
 have benefited him, so as to be of use to those who 
 are his intimates." " But tell me, Socrates, how can we 
 form a judgment on such points before we contract an 
 intimacy with a man ? " - When we pass a judgment 
 with respect to sculptors," replied Socrates, "we do not
 
 86 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 ground tliat judgment upon tlieir words ; but when we 
 see that any particular one has executed his previous 
 statues creditably, we conclude that he will be able to 
 turn out his other works in a similar style." "You 
 say, then," asked Critobulus, " that a man who has 
 been known to have behaved kindly to his former 
 fiiends, is likely to do so towards those whom he has 
 acquired subsequently?" "Precisely so," remarked 
 Socrates ; "just as I ..xpect that one whom I have pre- 
 viously seen managing horses well will be equally able 
 to manage other horses." " Be it so," said Critobulus. 
 " But when any one appears to us to be worthy of our 
 friendship, what means should we adopt to secure him 
 as a friend % " " In the first instance," replied Socrates, 
 " it is necessary to inquire of the gods as to whether 
 they would counsel us to make him our friend." " Can 
 you tell me, then," asked Critobulus, "how such an 
 one as appears fit for our friendship, and of whom the 
 gods do not disapprove, is to be secured ? " " By 
 Jupiter," returned Socrates, " he is not to be captured 
 by swiftness of foot, as a hare is, or by the snare, like 
 birds, or by force, like our foes ; for it is a difficult task 
 to secure a friend against his will, and it is hard, when 
 you have got him, to keep him bound like a slave, 
 inasmuch as those who are treated in this maimer are 
 more apt to become our enemies than our friends." 
 " How do they become our friends, then ? " Critobulus 
 asked. " It is said that there are certain incantations,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 87 
 
 by the singing of -wldch. to Avliomsoever they please, 
 such as understand them can secure their heareK as their 
 friends ; and that there are charms, which those who are 
 skilled in their use, by administering to any whom they 
 choose, become beloved by them." " And whence can 
 we obtain a knowledge of such devices % " " Have you 
 not heard from Homer the Siren's song to Ulysses, 
 which commences somehow thus ] — 
 
 " ' Come hither, O thou prince renowned, great glory of the 
 Greeks!'"* 
 
 " Did the Sirens, then, Socrates, sing this same strain 
 to other men, and detain them also, so that they 
 could not tear themselves away from those who sung 
 it ? " " Xo ; but they sung thus to those who loved to 
 be honoured on account of their excellence." "You 
 mean something of this kind — ^that we ought to apply 
 such, incantations to each indi%idual as to lead him to 
 think, when he hears them, that the man who is praising 
 him is not doing so to ridicule him ; for in that case he 
 would be rather inimically disposed, and would repel 
 us from him ; as, for example, if one were to admire 
 for his beauty and stature and strength a man who 
 was aware that he was underfed and ugly and weak. 
 But," continued Critobulus, " are you acquainted witb 
 any other charms ? " '■' I am not," replied Socrates ; 
 " but I have heard that Pericles knew several, by chant- 
 
 * Odyssey, Book xiL line 184.
 
 88 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 ino^w-liiou to tlie state he made it love liim," "And 
 liow did Tliemistocles gaiu tlie affections of the state 1 " 
 "iSTot, by Jupiter, by singing incantations to it, but 
 by attaching to it, as it were, an amulet — some sort of 
 benefit." " You appear to me, Socrates, to mean, that if 
 we would become possessed of a worthy friend, we 
 should ourselves show oux own worthiness both in 
 speech and action % " " Do you, then," asked Socrates, 
 "think it possible l^r a bad man to procure good 
 friends 1 " " At any rate," replied Critobulus, " I have 
 seen bad rhetoricians friendly with good orators, and 
 incompetent generals on terms of intimacy with men 
 eminently fitted for command." " But with regard to 
 those points which we were discussing, do you know 
 any who, being themselves useless, are nevertheless able 
 to make useful persons their friends'?" "No, by 
 Jupiter," returned Critobulus ; " but if it is impossible 
 for a depraved man to gain for himself good and honest 
 friends, what I am now concerned to know is, whether 
 it is possible for one who is himself honest and good to 
 become, vsdthout any difficulty, friendly with men of 
 the same character ? " " What perplexes you, Crito- 
 bulus, is the fact that you often see honourable men, 
 and such as refrain, from any base conduct, acting as 
 enemies rather than as friends to one another, and 
 treating each other more harshly than those who are 
 altogether worthless." "And not only private indi- 
 viduals," continued Critobulus, " but even states act in
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 8g 
 
 this manner; for, although they carefully cultivate good- 
 ness and discourage vice, they are, nevertheless, often 
 hostilely disposed towards one another. When I con- 
 sider all these circumstances, I quite lose heart 
 about the acquisition of friends. Bad peojjle, I know 
 cannot live on good terms together, for how can 
 the ungrateful, or the heedless, or the avaricious, 
 or the faithless, or the incontinent, become friends "? 
 Indeed, it appears to me that the wicked are natur- 
 ally enemies rather than friends to each other. 
 But, again, as you remark, the wicked never har- 
 monise -with the good in a manner likely to establish 
 mutual friendship. For how can those who commit 
 bad actions be friends with those who abhor them? 
 And if, moreover, those who lead a ^drtuous life are 
 nevertheless at enmity about pre-eminence in the state, 
 and hate each other through envy, who can be friends, 
 or among what class of men can good-Avill and faithful- 
 ness exist 1 " " There are," replied Socrates, " certain 
 distinct feelings which enter into such matters. Hence 
 men are by nature partly disposed to friendliness one 
 with another, as they require one another's aid, and 
 sympatliise with each other, and by co-operating to- 
 gether are of mutual assistance ; and perceiving that 
 such is the case, they entertain kindly feelings towards 
 one another. On the other hand, they are to a certain 
 extent inimically disposed, for where they regard the 
 same objects as desirable and pleasant, they fight for
 
 90 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 them, and become opposed to eacli otLer througli their 
 feelings being at variance. Contention and anger tend 
 to open warfare, the love of self-aggrandisement pro- 
 duces ill-will, and envy engenders hatred. But, never- 
 theless, friendship, penetrating through all these 
 obstacles, unites together the honourable and the good. 
 Their virtue leads them to prefer a moderate compe- 
 tency without strife to the possession of unlimited re- 
 sources acquired by contention. When hungry and 
 thirsty, they can share their meat and drink ungrudg- 
 ingly, and although they may take pleasure in sensual 
 . gratification, they can restrain themselves so as not to 
 annoy people whom they ought not to annoy. 
 
 " Moreover, they are able, by refraining from covet- 
 ousness, not only to divide their property in an equit- 
 able spirit, but to assist one another, and to settle their 
 disputes not merely amicably, but in such a way as to 
 produce mutual benefit. They can restrain their anger 
 from going so far as to cause them repentance, and envy 
 they utterly annihilate by giving up their goods to 
 their friends to use as their own, and regarding their 
 friends' property as theirs. 
 
 "Why is it improbable, then, that the honourable 
 and good should accept political honours as a means not 
 only of not injuring each other, but even of advancing 
 one another's interests ? Those, indeed, who covet dis- 
 tinction and influence in the state for the purposes of 
 embezzlement, oppression, and luxurious living, would
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 91 
 
 be unprincipled, vicious, and unable to adapt them- 
 selves to any one else. But if a man desires to obtain 
 pre-eminence in the state in order that he may both 
 preserve himself from suffering ivrong, and may be 
 able to assist his friends in obtaining their rights, and 
 during liis terms of office endeavours to confer some 
 boon upon his country, why would such an one be un- 
 able to adapt himself to one whose views were similar 
 to his own % Will he be less capable of serving his 
 friends by his association with the upright and the just, 
 or less able to benefit his country by having the honour- 
 able and good as his colleagues ? 
 
 "Now, it is evident that if, at the athletic games, it 
 were allowable for the strongest competitors to band 
 themselves together a,nd enter tlie lists against the 
 weakest, the former would be the victors in all the 
 events, and carry off all the prizes. In these contests, 
 therefore, such an arrangement is not permitted, but in 
 political life, in which the honourable and good form 
 the strongest party, there is no rule against any one's 
 benefiting the state in conjunction Avith whomsoever he 
 pleases. How then is it not a matter of profit that he 
 should have the chief management of the state whose 
 friends are of the best character, and who would have 
 their aid "and support, rather than their opposition, in 
 his imdertakings % Moreover, it is manifest that if any 
 man commences hostilities agaiust another he will re- 
 quire coadjutors, and plenty of them too, if he is to take
 
 92 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 tlie field against the honourable and good ; and those 
 who are wilHng to serve as his allies must be well 
 treated, so that they may be zealous in his cause. It is, 
 therefore, much more to his advantage to behave well 
 to the good, who are fewer in number, than to the bad, 
 who are more numerous ; since the wicked expect many 
 more favours than the good. But cheer up, Critobulus, 
 and endeavour," he said, " to become good yourself, and 
 when you have made yourself so, seek to secure honour- 
 able and virtuous men as your friends. And I may 
 perhaps be myself able to assist you in your search 
 after such, on account of the affection I entertain for you ; 
 for whenever I conceive a liking for people, I strive 
 anxiously, and with all my power, as I love them, so to 
 be loved again by them in return. I desire that as I 
 regret their absence, so they should regret mine, and 
 that as I miss their company, they also should long for 
 mine. I perceive, too, that your views are of a similar 
 nature, when you seek to form friendships. Do not, 
 therefore, conceal from me who those are with whom 
 you wish to contract an intimacy ; for I think that 
 owing to my being always very careful to please those 
 who please me, I am not altogether unskilled in secur- 
 
 ing men " 
 
 And Critobulus said, " I have long been anxious, 
 
 Socrates, to avail myself of such instructions as you 
 
 have given, especially if the knowledge of them will 
 
 upply me with the means of influencing both those
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES, 93 
 
 who possess virtuous minds, and those who have hand- 
 some persons." " But, Critobulus, there is nothing in my 
 system which will induce those who are handsome to 
 suffer any one to lay hands npon them ; for I am con- 
 vinced that men fled away from Scylla* because she 
 offered to place her hands upon them, while every one, 
 as the legend goes, lingered and listened with delight 
 to the Sirens, because they never attempted to touch any 
 one, hut sang to people from a distance." And Crito- 
 bulus said, • " Granting that I refrain from using my 
 hands, teach me any good plan that you may be 
 acquainted with for securing friends." " But you will 
 never apj)ly your lips," asked Socrates, " to their lijis 1 " 
 " Depend upon it, Socrates," replied Critobulus, " that 
 I will never suffer my lips to approach those of any 
 other person, except they be beautiful" " But, Crito- 
 bulus," remarked Socrates, "you have just uttered a 
 sentiment which militates exactly against what is most 
 to your advantage ; for those who are beautiful will not 
 permit such liberties, whereas the ugly submit to them 
 even with pleasure, thinking that they are considered 
 
 * An allusion to ships being hurled against the rocks Scylla and 
 Charybdis, which lay between Italy and Sicily. Scylla, according to 
 Ovid, was a beautiful maiden, who was a companion of the sea-nymphs. 
 The marine god Glaucus fell in love with her, and applied to Circe 
 for some charms to make Scylla return hjs love ; but Circe, being 
 jealous of her, threw some magic herbs into the fountain in which she 
 used to bathe, and metamorphosed her into a monster, having the 
 upper part of her body like that of a woman, while the lower was tliat 
 of a fish or serpent surrounded by dcga.
 
 94 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 attractive on account of some mental endowment." 
 And Critobulus said, " Eegarding me, tlien, in tlie light 
 of one who is inclined to be fond of those who are 
 beautiful, and very fond of those who are good, teach 
 me with confidence the arts necessary to secure friends." 
 And Socrates asked, " When, then, Critobulus, you feel 
 disposed to become friendly mth any one, will you 
 permit me to speak of you to him, and say that you 
 admire Mm, and wish to become his friend ? " " You 
 may say so," repHed Critobulus ; " for I never knew 
 any one disUke those who speak well of him." " But 
 if T add to this, that, because you admire him, you also 
 feel kindly towards him, you wiU not tliink that you 
 are being misrepresented by me ?" " By no means," 
 rejoined Critobulus ; " for a kindly feeling is als,o 
 engendered in my own breast towards those who I 
 thLk are kindly disposed towards me." " I 'may then 
 say thus much concerning you," continued Socrates, 
 " to those whom you wish to make your friends ; and 
 if, moreover, you empower me to assert concerning you 
 that you are attentive to your friends, and delight in 
 nothing so much as in having good friends, and that 
 you take no less pleasure in your friends' good actions 
 than you do in your own ; that you rejoice at the 
 prosperity of your friends no less than you do at your 
 own ; that you are never weary of labouring to pro- 
 mote the welfare of your friends, and that you esteem 
 it a vii-tue in a man to surpass his friends in doing them
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 95 
 
 good, and his enemies in doing them harm, — I think I 
 shall be an effective coadjutor to you in your search 
 after worthy friends." " But why," inquired Critobulus, 
 " do you speak to me thus, as if you were not at liberty 
 to say of me whatever you please ? " " No, by JujMter," 
 exclaimed Socrates, " I am not at liberty to do so, as I 
 once heard Aspasia* say; for she declared that skilful 
 match-makers, in their reports of people's characters, 
 had great influence in promoting marriages, if the good 
 points that they enumerated were true ; but that such 
 as praised people falsely did no good, since those who 
 had been deceived equally hated both each other and 
 the match-maker. And I, being convinced that her 
 sentiments were correct, am of opinion that I ought not 
 to say anything in your praise without I can assert it 
 truthfully." "You are then," exclaimed Critobulus, 
 " a friend of this sort to me, Socrates, that if I myself 
 possess the qualifications necessary to the acquiring of 
 friends, you ivould assist me in securing them, but if 
 not, you would not indulge in any fiction to serve me ?" 
 "And whether, Critobulus," rejoined Socrates, "do you 
 
 * A Milesian lady, celebrated for her beauty and intellectual attain- 
 ments. She came to settle at Athens, and there captivated the great 
 Athenian statesman, Pericles, who had quarrelled with his wife, and 
 went to reside with her. Her house was the resort of all the literaiy, 
 political, and artistic celebrities of the day ; and she is said by some 
 writers to have been the instructress of Socrates, although this state- 
 ment seems to have been made on insufBcient grounds.— 5«e Smith's 
 "Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology," sub 
 vv. "Jspaxia" and "Pericles ;" and ThirhvallS "History of Greece" 
 vol. iii. p. 87. '
 
 g6 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 think I should be serving you most by praising you 
 undeservedly, or by persuading you to endeavour to 
 become a good man ? But if this point is not clear to 
 you, examine it by the Hght of the following arguments. 
 Suppose, now, that being desirous of making you 
 friendly with the master of a vessel, I should falsely 
 praise you by recommending you as an excellent pilot, 
 and he, relying on my recommendation, should commit 
 the steering of his ship to you, who knew nothing what- 
 ever about it, do you at all expect that you would not 
 destroy both yourself and the ship % Or if, by means 
 of false representations, I should induce the state to in- 
 trust itself to you in a public capacity, as to a man fitted 
 to discharge important military, judicial, and political 
 functions, what do you think would happen both to 
 yourself and to the state under your guidance % Or if, as 
 a private individual, I should, by false statements, per- 
 suade any of the citizens to intrust his property to you 
 as to a skilful and attentive manager, would you not, 
 when your capabilities came to be tested, be evidently 
 found not only to have inflicted loss upon your em- 
 ployer, but to have made yourself thoroughly ridiculous ? 
 But the shortest and the safest and the best way, Crito- 
 bulus, is, in whatever point you A^ ish to excel, to strive 
 to acquire true proficiency in it, for all such things as 
 are called ' excellencies ' among mankind you will find 
 upon consideration to be in every case capable of bemg 
 increased by education and practice. I think, there-
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 97 
 
 fore, that we should pursue such a course in the selec- 
 tion of our friends ; but if you kuow any other method 
 impart it to me." " Rather, Socrates," said Critobulus, 
 " I should blush to gainsay such opinions ; for in doing 
 so I should assert that which was neither honourable 
 nor true." 
 
 CHAPTER VI I. 
 
 And again, with regard to the difficulties of his friends, 
 such of them as arose from ignorance he endeavoured 
 to alleviate by his counsel, and those which sprimg 
 from poverty, by instructing them to assist one another 
 according to their ability. And in illustration of this, 
 I will relate some anecdotes which I know concerning 
 him. 
 
 Upon one occasion, observing Aristarchus looking 
 gloomily — "You seem," he said, "Aristarchus, to be 
 labouring under some burthen, and you ought to impart 
 the cause of your heaviness to your friends, for mayhap 
 we may be able to relieve you of some part of the load." 
 To this Aristarchus answered — " 1 am indeed, Socrates, 
 in a great strait, for since the revolution* has broken 
 
 * This event occurred just before the battle at Munycliia, and the 
 deposition of the Thirty Tyrants, B.C. 403.— &e Thirlwall's "History of 
 Greece," vol. iv. pp. 200-203. 
 
 G
 
 98 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 out in the city, and many liave fled to the Peirseus, 
 those of my sisters and nieces and female cousins who 
 have been left behind have come to take shelter with 
 me, in such numbers that there are now fourteen free- 
 born persons in my house ; and we receive nothing from 
 our land, for the enemy holds it ; nor from our houses, 
 on account of the scarcity of population that now exists 
 in the city ; and no one will buy our furniture, nor is 
 it possible to borrow money anywhere, but it seems to 
 me easier to pick it up in the streets than to obtain a 
 loan of it. Now, it is a sad thing for me to leave my 
 own relations to perish, but it is quite impossible for 
 me to support so many people under such circum- 
 stances." Then Socrates, having heard these words, 
 said, " But how is it that citizen Ceramon, who main- 
 tains a great many people, is not only able to provide 
 what is necessary both for himself and them, but adds 
 so much more to his store as even to be rich ; while you, 
 on the contrary, having also to support a considerable 
 number, are ia fear lest you should all perish for want 
 of even the mere necessaries of life 1 " " Because, by Ju- 
 piter," answered Aristarchus, " those who depend upon 
 him for support are slaves, but those who depend upon 
 me are free-born." " And which do you regard in the 
 best light, the free-born persons who are with you, or 
 the slaves who are with Ceramon ? " " The free-born 
 who are with me," replied Aristarchus. " Is it not 
 then," asked Socrates, " a shamefid thing that he, who 
 
 ^*^
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 99 
 
 is surrounded by an inferior class, sliould have an 
 abundance, while you, who have about you those who 
 belong to a much higher grade, are in want ? " " Cer- 
 tainly not," exclaimed Aristarchus, "since his house- 
 hold consists of artisans, mine of persons of a liberal 
 education." "Those, then, are artisans who know how 
 to manufacture any useful article % " " Assuredly," re- 
 plied the other. " Is barley-meal, then, a useful 
 article ? " " Exceedingly useful. " " And bread ? " 
 " Not less so." " What, too, of men's and women's 
 clothes, such as coats and cloaks and mantles?" 
 " These, again, are all extremely useful." " Do those, 
 then, who are in your house," asked Socrates, " under- 
 stand nothing about the manufacture of such articles ? " 
 " I imagine that they understand the making of all of 
 them." " Do you not know, then, that from the manu- 
 facture of one of them, viz., barley-meal, Nausicydes 
 supports not only himself and his household, but a 
 great number of pigs and oxen also, and gains so much 
 more besides that he is often able to subsidise the govern- 
 ment 1 Cyrebus, too, maintains his whole family by the 
 manufacture of bread, and lives in luxury. Demeas 
 of Collyteus subsists upon cloak, and Menon upon 
 tunic making, while most of the Megareans support 
 themselves by the making of mantles." "No doubt 
 they do," replied Aristarchus, "for they all purchase 
 foreign slaves,, whom they keep for the express pur- 
 pose of compelling them to perform such tasks as they
 
 loo MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 think fit, wliereas I am surrounded by free-born persons 
 and relatives." " Because, tben, they are free-born per- 
 sons and your rehatives, you think that they ought to 
 do nothing else but eat and sleep ? And do you find 
 that other free persons, -s\o spend their existence thus 
 indolently, Hve better ? Qx do you tliink that they are 
 happier than those do who understand, both theo- 
 retically and practically, those arts which are useful to 
 support life^ Or do you perceive that laziness and 
 carelessness conduce to make men acquainted with such 
 things as they ought to understand, and to their remem- 
 bering what they have learned, or to the improvement 
 of their bodily health and strength, or to the acquisition 
 and preservation of what is useful for their support ; but 
 that industry and activity are of no profit to them? 
 And with regard to those arts of which, as you say, your 
 relatives have acquired the knowledge, did they learn 
 them without any intention of ever making them avail- 
 able for their support, and of being in any way useful to 
 them ; or, on the contrary, with a \dew to exercising 
 them for their oaati benefit \ By pursuing which course 
 would men show most wisdom, by living in idleness 
 or by occupying themselves in usefiil pursuits ? And 
 would they become more upright by working for, or by 
 indolently pondering over what they require ] But, as 
 matters now stand, it appears to me that you camiot 
 have any real love for your female relatives, nor they for 
 you, inasmuch as you regard them as burthensome to you,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. loi 
 
 and tliey see that you are annoyed at their company. 
 There is a risk, therefore, that from such a state of feel- 
 ing dislike will accrue, and the affection that you once 
 had for each other will be impaired. But if you give 
 them directions how to employ themselves, you will feel 
 amiably disposed towards them, seeing that they are of 
 use to you, and they will become attached to you when 
 they are sensible that you are pleased Avith them ; and, 
 remembering with increased gratification the services 
 they have rendered you, j^ou will add tot he good-will 
 which has thus sprung i\p between you, and will con- 
 duct yourselves more amicably and sociably towards 
 each other. If, indeed, they had to undertake any 
 work that was disgraceful, death would be prefer- 
 able to it ; but your relations are skilled in those arts 
 which are probably the most honourable and be- 
 coming that can be exercised by women, and all 
 people execute such things as they understand most 
 easily, expeditiously, creditably, and pleasurably. Do 
 not hesitate, then," he continued, " to suggest to them 
 a course which will benefit both them and you, 
 and which they, in all probability, will most readily 
 adopt." " Now, by the gods, Socrates," exclaimed 
 Aristarchus, " your arguments are so forcible, that 
 although I have hitherto shrunk from obtaining 
 a loan, as knowing that when I had spent what 
 I had borrowed, I should not be able to repay 
 the debt, I now think I can bring myself to do
 
 102 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 so in order to provide means for commencing our 
 
 tasks." 
 
 The result was that all tilings necessary for the start 
 were procured. Wool was bought, and the women 
 dined as they worked, and slipped after they had 
 finished work. Their countenances assumed a cheerful 
 instead of a gloomy expression; instead of shunning 
 each other's looks, they encountered them with pleasure ; 
 and they regarded Aristarchus as their protector, while 
 he grew fond of them, as being of use to him. At last, 
 coinc; to Socrates, he related to him with delight all 
 that had happened, and added, that the women accused 
 him of being the, only person in the house who ate the 
 bread of idleness. Then said Socrates, " Why did you 
 it)t tell them the ' Fable of the Dog 1. ' For the story 
 goes, that when beasts could speak, the sheep said to 
 her master, ' You act strangely, in that to us, who afford 
 you wool and lambs and cheese, you give nothing ex- 
 cept what we get from the ground ; but with the dog, 
 who supplies you with nothing of the kind, you share 
 the food of v/hich you yourself partake.' And the dog, 
 hearing these words, exclaimed, ' Yes, forsooth, and with 
 justice ! since it is I who preserve you yourselves from 
 being stolen by men or carried off by wolves ; for if I 
 did not guard you, you would not even be able to graze 
 for fear of being destroyed.' For this reason, it is said, the 
 sheep agreed to grant to the dog precedence in honour. 
 Do you, therefore, tell theoe women that, like the dog,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 103 
 
 you are to tliem a guardian and a protector ; and that 
 they by your means, and without suifering any indig- 
 nity, are passing their time in safe and pleasant occupa- 
 tions." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 On one occasion, seeing an okl friend after a long 
 interval of time, he said, " Where do you spring from, 
 Eutherus %" "I have returned, Socrates, from living 
 abroad since the conclusion of the war, and have but 
 lately arrived fi'om thence ; for as we were despoiled of 
 all our property beyond the frontier, and my father left 
 me nothing in Attica, I am now compelled to live in 
 the city, so as to procure the necessaries of life by my 
 personal labour ; for it seems to me to be better to do 
 this, than to ask favours of anybody, especially as I 
 have no security on which I could raise money." "And 
 how long," asked Socrates, " do you think your body 
 will be sufficiently strong to enable you to earn the 
 necessaries of life by your labour \ " " Not very 
 long, by Jupiter," answered Eutherus. " And yet," said 
 Socrates, "it is certain that when you become older 
 you will require money to spend, although no one will 
 be willing to hire you for your bodily strength."
 
 I04 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 "That is very tree," remarked Eutherus. "It is 
 tlierefore better for you," said Socrates, " henceforth to 
 apply yourself to such kinds of occupations as will 
 maintain you when you grow, old, and to go to some 
 person who has large possessions, and wants some 
 one to superintend them, whose overseer you could be, 
 and assist him in gathering in his crops and taking 
 care of his estate, so as, by benefiting him, to be yourself 
 benefited in return," "I should endure servitude, 
 Socrates," he said, "with great reluctance." "Yet 
 those who preside over states, and have the manage- 
 ment of public affairs, are not on this account regarded 
 in the light of slaves, but as freemen." " Briefly," re- 
 jilied Eutherus, " I am not at all inclined to expose 
 myself to be found fault with by any one." " But, 
 assuredly, Eutherus, it is not altogether easy to find 
 any employment in which a person can always avoid 
 cause for blame ; for it is difficult to accomplish any- 
 thing Avithout making some • mistake, and difficult, if 
 you do so accomplish it, to meet with a critic who is 
 sensible enough to recognise the fact ; and even in 
 those very occiipations in wliich you say you are now 
 ensased. I should much wonder if you were altogether 
 able to escape being found fault with. You must, 
 therefore, beware of captious employers, and look out for 
 such as are indulgent. You must also undertake such 
 duties only as you can carry out, and avoid such as you 
 cannot ; and whatever task you do undertake, you must
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 105 
 
 apply yourself to it to the best of your abilities and 
 with the utmost zeal ; for, methinks, that by such con- 
 duct you -will run the least risk of exposing yourself to 
 blame, aud be the most likely to obtain help in your 
 difficulties : that you will thus live most easily and 
 securely, and lay up the best pro\'ision for old age," 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 I KNOW, too, that he once heard Crito * remark how 
 difficult it was for a man who wished to confine his 
 attention to his own business only, to live in Athens. 
 " For," said he, " at this very time, actions are being 
 brought against me, not by persons who have suffered 
 any injury at my hands, but because they think that I 
 will give them a sum of money rather than be troubled." 
 And Socrates asked, " Tell me, Crito, do you keep dogs 
 for the purpose of guarding your sheep against the 
 wolves ? " " Undoubtedly," replied Crito ; " since it 
 
 * An Athenian citi'zen of great wealth, who employed all his resources 
 for the good of his country and fellow-citizens. He was one of the most 
 steadfast of the disciples of Socrates, and his staunchest friend. We 
 learn from Plato— who has named one of his " Dialogues " afterhim — 
 that it was he who, after having in rain tried to persuade Socrates to 
 escape from prison, and provided the means for his flight, attended 
 him. at the hour of his death.
 
 io6 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 is more to my advantage to keep tlaem than not." 
 " Would you not, then, keep a man -who would be 
 willing and able to guard you against the attacks of 
 those who are seekhig to injure you ? " " Most 
 readily," answered Crito, " could I be assured that he 
 would not turn against me." " But do you not per- 
 ceive," asked Socrates, " that it would be much more to 
 a man's pleasure and profit to ingratiate himself with 
 a person like you, than it would be to incur your 
 enmity? Be assured that there are such men in our 
 city who would esteem it a very great honour to reckon 
 you as a friend." 
 
 The result was that they fixed upon one Archedemus, 
 a very able man, both in speech and action, but poor ; 
 for he was not the sort of person who would make 
 money by any means, but, being an admirer of honesty, 
 and naturally possessed of superior qualifications, he 
 was able to make something out of the sycophants.* 
 Crito, therefore, whenever he gathered in his corn, 
 or oil, or wine, or wool, or any of his agricultural 
 produce which tended to support life, would devote 
 
 * A term derived from, and originally applied to, informers against 
 persons who exported figs from Attica, a practice forbidden by law 
 during a time of great scarcity. The statute afterwards became obsolete, 
 but the term continued in use, and was employed to signify an informer 
 of any kind. Of these there was always a large class in Athens, and 
 as their information was often false, the word became a synonym for a 
 slanderer or a misrepresenter of facts. It is in this latter signification 
 that it is applied by us to a flatterer. For a fuller account of Arche- 
 demus, Crito, and the Sycophants, see Thirlwall's " History of Greece," 
 vol iv. pp. 12S, and 223-227.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 107 
 
 some of it as a present to Archedemus ; and wlien lie 
 sacrificed, lie would invite Mm to the feast, and showed 
 him attention in all such matters. And Archedemus, 
 regarding Crito's house as a place of refuge to him, was 
 very devoted to him. He quickly discovered many 
 injuries that Crito had suffered at the hands of the 
 sycophants, and that many of them were his enemies ; 
 and he summoned one of them to a public trial, at 
 which it Avould have to be settled what penalty he 
 should pay either in purse or person. Now, the 
 sycophant, being conscious of his many misdemeanours, 
 tried all possible methods to get rid of Archedemus. 
 But he would not be got rid of, until the other left 
 off interfering with Crito, and gave him himself a 
 sum of money besides. And when Archedemus 
 had brought this and other similar transactions to a 
 successful issue, then forthwith, as when any shepherd 
 has a good dog, other shepherds also seek to station 
 their flocks near him, in order to have the benefit of his 
 dog, so many of Crito's friends besought him to lend 
 them Archedemus as a protector of their interests also. 
 To this request of Crito's Archedemus willingly acceded, 
 and thus not only Crito but his friends were no longer 
 molested. And if any of the latter, who owed Arche- 
 demus a grudge, taunted him with flattering Crito in 
 return for the kindnesses he had received at his hands, 
 Archedemus would ask, " Pray, is it disgraceful for one 
 who has been served by worthy people, and has served
 
 loS MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 them ill return, to make tliem their friends, and to 
 avoid the wicked ? And shonkl they seek to make the 
 hononrable and good their enemies by wronging them, 
 while they endeavour .by abetting evil-doers to con- 
 ciliate them, and associate with the latter in preference 
 to the former ? " So henceforward Arched emus became 
 one of Crito's intimates, and was highly esteemed by the 
 other friends of Crito. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 I KNOW, also, that he keld the following conversation 
 with one of his associates named Diodorus : — " Tell 
 me, Diodorus," said he, "if any of your domestics 
 absconds, do you take any steps to recover biml" 
 " Yes, by Jupiter," replied Diodorus ; " for I call to- 
 gether the others, and proclaim a reward for any of 
 them who will bring him back." " And if any of them 
 falls ill, do you take care of him, and send for doctors to 
 prevent his dying % " " Certainly," answered Diodorus. 
 " And if any one of your acquaintances," continued 
 Socrates, "who is infinitely more valuable than your 
 servants, is in danger of perishing from want, do you 
 not think that you ought to pay attention, to him, and 
 endeavour to save his life ? Yet vou know that
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 109 
 
 Hermogenes is not an ungrateful man, and tliat he 
 would feel ashamed to receive a kindness from you 
 without requiting you for it. Now, I consider the pos- 
 session of a well-disposed and earnest assistant, and one 
 who is capable of executing your orders, and not only 
 this, but also of being useful to you in his o^\^l person, 
 and of forecasting and forming plans for you, as valuable 
 as many servants. In truth, good economists say that 
 when you have an opportunity of purchasing a high- 
 X^riced article at a trifling cost, you ought to secure it ; 
 and now, circumstances allow of your procuring good 
 friends at a cheap rate." To this Diodorus replied, 
 "You say well, Socrates, and therefore bid Hermogenes 
 to come to me." " Not I, by Jupiter," exclaimed 
 Socrates ; " for I do not think it more equitable to 
 send him to you, than that you should go to him, or 
 that a greater beneiit will accrue to him from the meet- 
 ing than to you." So then Diodorus went to Hermo- 
 genes, and at a trifling cost secured a friend who made 
 it his business to consider how he could best serve and 
 gratify Diodorus either by word or deed.
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NOW proceed to relate how useful Socrates was 
 to those who were aiming at any post of 
 honoiir, by making them attentive in pur- 
 suing the objects of their desire. 
 
 On one occasion, for example, having heard that 
 Dionysodorus had visited the city, and announced that 
 he would give lessons in the art of generalship, he said 
 to one of his own disciples, who was ambitious of gain- 
 ing public distinction as a general, " It is surely shame- 
 ful, young man, that he who aspires to take the command 
 of the forces of the state should, when the opportunity 
 offers of learning how to do so, neglect to avail himself 
 of it ; and such an one would be much more justly 
 punished by the state than one who should undertake
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 1 1 1 
 
 to make statues for it without ever having studied the 
 statuary's profession. For since, in the perils of war, 
 the whole community is intrusted to the commander, 
 the greatest benefits naturally accrue from his successes, 
 • and the greatest evils from his mistakes. How, then, 
 would not he who was desirous of occupying such a 
 post, and yet neglected to learn its duties, be deservedly 
 punished % " By such observations he induced his hearer 
 to go and take lessons. And when, after having attended 
 the lectures, he paid a visit to Socrates, the latter began 
 to jest about him, saying, " Since Homer, my friends, 
 has described Agamemnon as being worthy of respect, 
 so does not this young man appear to be more deserv- 
 ing of our respect now that he has learned to be a 
 general % For as he who has learned to play upon the 
 harp, even if he is not using his instrument, is never- 
 theless a harpist, and he who has studied the physician's 
 art, even although he does not exercise it, is still a phy- 
 sician, so this youth from henceforth will always be a 
 general, although he should never be appointed to that 
 post ; whereas he who lacks the proper knowledge is 
 neither a general nor a physician, although he should 
 be unanimously elected to act in those capacities. But," 
 he said to him, " in order that, if any one of us should 
 ever have to command a division or a company under 
 you, we may better understand our duties as soldiers, 
 tell us how your teacher commenced his instructions 
 in generalship." " He commenced," replied the young
 
 112 
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 man, " as he ended ; for lie tauglit me tactics, and 
 nothing else." " And yet," exclaimed Socrates, "Avhat 
 a small branch of the art of generalship that is ! for 
 a commander-in-chief must be capable of pro^dding 
 everything that is necessary for war, and for the proper 
 provisioning of his troops. He should be a good 
 mechanic and handicraftsman, careful, patient, quick- 
 witted ; kind, and vet severe ; simple, yet cunning ; 
 anxious to keep his own stores, biit ready to seize 
 those of others ; lavish, yet rapacious ; munificent, but 
 fond of saving ; cautious, yet enterprising ; and pos- 
 sessed of many other qualifications, both natural and 
 acquired, which he who would make an eflGicient general 
 must be master of. Doubtless it is of advantage to be 
 a good tactician also ; for a well-ordered army differs 
 from a disorderly one, as stones, and bricks, and wood, 
 and tiles, when they are all thi'own together in a confused 
 heap, are of no use ; but when those materials which will 
 not fall to pieces or decay, such as the stones and the tiles, 
 are put at the bottom and top, wdiile the bricks and the 
 wood are arranged in the middle, as is done in build- 
 ing—then a house, w^hich is a valuable piece of pro- 
 perty, is the result." "Really, Socrates," said the 
 yoimg man, " the analogy which you have instituted 
 is perfect ; for in war we place the best troops in the 
 van and at the rear, and the worst in the main body, 
 so that they may be led on by' those in front of them, 
 and urged forward by those behind." " If," rejoined
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 1 1 3 
 
 Socrates, "your master has taught you how to dis- 
 tmguish the good from the bad, the phan you mention 
 would be an excellent one ; but if he has not done so, 
 of what use are his instructions ? For example, sup- 
 pose he were to desire you to arrange some silver coins, 
 so as to place the best examples first and last, and the 
 worst in the middle, without showing you which were 
 the genuine and wliich the spurious, liis orders would 
 be of no use." " But," said the young man, " he cer- 
 tainly did not teach us this, and so we should have to 
 distinguish the good from the bad ourselves." " Why, 
 then, should we not consider how we may best avoid 
 making mistakes on this point 1 " "I am willing to 
 do so," rej^lied the young man. " Well, then," said 
 Socrates, " if we had to capture a sum of money, should 
 Ave not be right in placing those men who were most 
 covetous of money in the van ? " " So it appears to 
 me," answered the young man. " And what should 
 those do who are about to undertake perilous enter- 
 prises 1 Should they not place those who are most am- 
 bitious of honour in the front ? " " These, at any rate," 
 said the young man, " are such as would most readily 
 incur danger for the sake of glory ; neither are they 
 diflBcult to discover, but being conspicuous everywhere, 
 they are easily to be found." "But did your master," 
 asked Socrates, " merely teach you to draw up an army, 
 or did he also teach you how each division was to be 
 employed?" " By no means," he replied. "And yet 
 
 H
 
 1 14 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 there are many circumstances," said Socrates, "towticli 
 neither the same plan of drawing up an army nor of 
 leading it wiU al^^'ays apply." "But, by Jupiter," 
 exclaimed the young man, "he never thoroughly ex- 
 plained this." " Then, by Jupiter," said Socrates, " go 
 back to him, and question him upon these points ; for 
 if he miderstands them, and is not altogether shameless, 
 he will blush at ha\ing taken your money and sent you 
 away in ignorance of them." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Having on a certain occasion met a general elect, 
 Socrates asked him, " Why do you think that Homer 
 styles Agamemnon ' the shepherd of the people 1 ' Is 
 it not, pray, because, as a shepherd ought to care for 
 the safety of his sheep, and to provide what is necessary 
 for them, so that the purpose for which they are kept 
 may be answered, so a general ought to pro^dde for the 
 safety of his soldiers, and for their proper support, so 
 that the object for which they serve may be effected ? 
 for they serve to conquer the enemy, and thus improve 
 their own condition. Or if not, for what conceivable pur- 
 pose has the poet glorified Agamemnon by styling him— 
 
 " ' Both powerful warrior and beloved king ? ' * 
 
 * Iliad, Book iii. line 179
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 1 1 5 
 
 Is it not because lie would liave been a ' jjowerf ill 
 warrior,' not if lie had been victorious single-handed 
 against the enemy, but because he was the cause of 
 victory to the whole army ? And he would have been 
 a ' beloved king,' not if he had merely been careful to 
 render his own individual life pleasant, but because he 
 sought the happiness of all those over whom he ruled. 
 For a man is made a king, not for the purpose of tak- 
 ing good care of himself alone, but that those who 
 elected him may be benefited by his rule ; and all men 
 serve as soldiers in order that their lives may be as 
 prosperous as possible, and they appoint generals with 
 this very object, that they may conduct them to that 
 prosperity. The commander of an army, therefore, is 
 bound to carry out the objects for which he was elected. 
 For as it is not easy to discover any course of conduct 
 more honourable than this, so there is none that is more 
 disgraceful than its converse." 
 
 And in thus estimating the qualities which consti- 
 tuted the peculiar excellence of a good commander, he 
 omitted all other requirements, and insisted only upon 
 this, viz., that it was incumbent upon him to render 
 those whom he commanded happy.
 
 1 1 6 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 I KNOW tliat on one occasion he lield the following con- 
 versation with one who had been elected to the post of 
 a cavalry officer :— " Can you teU me, yonng man, why 
 yon were anxious to command the cavalry % It was not, 
 I presume, that you might ride at the head of the troops ; 
 for the horse-archers are appointed to that post of 
 honour, seeing that they ride even before the colonels 
 themselves % " " That is true," replied the young man, 
 "Neither, I suppose, was it for the sake of being 
 noticed, for even madmen are noticed by everybody." 
 " Again you speak the truth," said the young man. 
 " "VVas it, then, because you think that you can make 
 the cavalry more efiicient, and hand it over, when so 
 improved, to the service of the government ; and if 
 there should be any need for its employment, that 
 you, as its leader, could confer some benefit upon the 
 state ? " " That certainly is my hope." " And assuredly," 
 rejoined Socrates, " it will be a most honourable 
 trait in your character if you are able to effect this 
 object. But I suppose the command to which you have 
 been elected has regard both to horses and their riders V^ 
 " It has," replied the young man. " Come, then," con- 
 tinued Socrates, " tell us first how you propose to im- 
 prove the horses." "I do not," replied the other, 
 ".consider that to be any part of my business; for
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 1 1 7 
 
 every man individually sliould look after liis own 
 horse." " If, then," said Socrates, " they should parade 
 their horses before you, some of them so unsound in the 
 hoofs or legs, or so weak and out of condition that they 
 could not follow you ; others theirs so ill-broken that 
 they would not stand where you posted them, and 
 others theirs such kickers that it would be impossible 
 to post them at all, what would be the use of your 
 cavalry, or how could you, as the commander of such 
 a force, be of any service to the state ] " And the 
 young man answered, " Your remarks are just, and I 
 will henceforth try my utmost to look after the horses." 
 " How, too, about the riders ? Will you not endeavour 
 to improve them ] " "I will," said the other, " You 
 will first of all, then, make them more expert in mount- 
 ing their horses ? " "I ought to do so," he replied ; 
 " for thus any one of them who should fall off would 
 be more capable of recovering himself." " And if you 
 have to hazard an engagement, will you order your men 
 to draw the opposing forces down to a sandy plain like 
 that on which you have been accustomed to exercise, 
 or will you endeavour to train them so as to act on 
 any sort of ground on which the enemy may be likely 
 to post himself ? " " The latter is the better plan," 
 answered the young man. "And will you take any 
 pains to render as many of your men as possible expert 
 at hurling their javelins from on horseback ? " " This 
 also had better be attended to." " And have you con-
 
 1 1 8 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 sidered the best way of wlietting their courage, and 
 exciting them against the enemy, if you intend to make 
 them more eager to fight 1 " " If I have not hitherto 
 done so, I will now commence the experiment." " And 
 have you considered at all how your men will be in- 
 duced to obey you most readily ? for without obedience 
 neither horses nor troopers will be of any \ise, be 
 they ever so good and brave." " You speak the truth, 
 Socrates," replied the young man ; " but what is the 
 best method of inducing them to be obedient % " " You 
 know this, I suppose, that men are most willing to 
 follow those whom they think most capable of leading 
 them ? Thus, in sickness, they most readily rely upon 
 him whom they regard as the most skilful physician ; 
 those who are passengers on board ship upon him who 
 seems the most experienced pilot ; and those who are 
 engaged in agriculture on him whom they consider the 
 best husbandman." " Of course they do," replied the 
 young man. " Is it not then probable," asked Socrates, 
 "that, with regard to horsemanship also, whosoever 
 shall seem most skilled in the art, him men will be 
 most willing to obey % " " If then, Socrates, I should 
 be manifestly the best horseman among them, will that 
 be sufficient to induce them to obej me ? " " It will ; 
 especially if, in addition to this, you show them that it 
 will be more honourable and safer for them to obey you." 
 " But how," demanded the other, " shall I prove this 
 to them ? " " Much more easily, by Jupiter," replied
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 1 1 9 
 
 Socrates, " than if you had to prove to them that evil 
 was better and more profitable than good." " You 
 mean to insinuate," said the young man, "that a 
 cavalry commander, in addition to his other qualifica- 
 tions, should endeavour to acquire the power of speak- 
 ing ? " " And do you suppose," asked Socrates, " that 
 you can command cavalry by silence ? Or have you 
 never considered that whatever things we have been 
 taught, by force of habit, to be the best for us, and by 
 which we guide our lives, are all of them inculcated by 
 the instrumentality of speech ? And that if any one 
 masters any other valuable branch of science, he acquires 
 it by means of speech % Do not the best instructors 
 make the freest use of speech, and those who compre- 
 hend the deepest subjects, discourse upon them in. the 
 most suitable language ? Or have you not noticed this, 
 that when a chorus is selected out of this our city (like 
 that which is sent to Delos *), no other troupe from 
 
 * Delos, the smallest but most renowneil of the group of islands called 
 the Cydades, situated in the Grecian Archipelago, was fabled to be the 
 birthplace of Apollo and Artemis, and was one of the chief seats of their 
 worship. The festivals and games held in their honour were attended 
 with great pomp and magnificence, and were celebrated every fifth 
 year with gymnastic and musical contests, choruses and dances. 
 Every year the Athenians sent a sacred vessel thither, bearing the 
 priest of Apollo crowned with laurels, in order to inspect the island. 
 The quinquennial celebration was called the greater, the annual the 
 lesser Delia; and at the former, although the islanders, in common with 
 Athen.s, were allowed to supply some of the choristers, victims, and 
 various other things appertaining to the solemnities, yet the leader and 
 the principal performers were invariably Athenians, and that people 
 always took the whole conduct of the ceremonies into their own 
 hands.
 
 120 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 elsewhere is able to compete Tvitli it, nor can so many 
 handsome men be assembled together in any other city 
 as hi this ? " " Again you speak truly," said the young 
 man. " Do you not think, then," continued Socrates, 
 " that if any one addressed himself diligently to the 
 task of impro^T-ng our cavalry here, we should far sur- 
 pass others in tliis, as in other points, both with regard to 
 the equipment and discijsline of our men and horses, and 
 in the alacrity with which we encountered the dangers 
 of the field, if we thought that praise and honour 
 would accrue to us thereby ? " " It is probable," re- 
 plied the other. " Make no delay, then," said Socrates ; 
 *' but endeavour to encourage your men to such con- 
 duct as will contribute to your own weKare, and also 
 to that of your fellow- citizens throxigh your influence." 
 " I will by all means make the attempt," said the 
 young man. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 And one day, seeing Nichomachides returning from an 
 election for heads of public departments, he asked him — 
 " Who have been appointed generals, Nichomachides ? " 
 And Nichomachides answered thus — " Have not the 
 Athenians, Socrates, acted exactly as is their wont? 
 For they have not elected me, pierced through as I have
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 1 2 1 
 
 been wliile borne on tlie roll of lieutenants and cap- 
 tains, and desperately wounded as I am" (here be drew 
 aside bis robe and showed the scars of bis wounds); " but 
 tbey have elected Antisthenes, forsooth, a man who 
 never saw service as an infantiy soldier, and did 
 nothing remarkable when in the cavalry, but under- 
 stands only the accumulation of money." "And is not 
 this a good recommendation, in that it renders a general 
 capable of providing necessaries for his trocJps 1 " " But 
 merchants," replied Nichomachides, " are capable of ac- 
 cumulating money, but that does not make them fit to 
 head an army." And Socrates said—" Antisthenes, at 
 any rate, is of an enuilous disposition, which is a neces- 
 sary qualification for a general. Have you not noticed 
 that whenever he has been chorus-master,* he has on all 
 occasions carried oft' the victory with his chorusesi" 
 "But, by Jupiter," exclaimed Nichomachides, "there 
 
 * Chorus-master, or chorepus. This was one of the leitourgiai or 
 public services (hence our word liturgy) which every citizen who pos- 
 sessed a certain property qualification at Athens was obliged by law to 
 undertake. The choregia was one of the most expensive of these 
 liturgies, and ihechoregus had to provide the choruses for the tragedies 
 and comedies performed, and the religious festivals celebrated at 
 Athens. In this capacity he had to supply the conductor, and all the 
 vocal and instrumental performers, whom he not only had to jiay for 
 their actual services, but to maintain and lodge during the time they 
 were in training. It devolved upon him also to provide the masks 
 dresses, and various otiier properties for the plays that were to be 
 represented, and in fact to defray most of the expenses incidental to 
 their proper production. The same chorus did not perform upon 
 every occasion, but various ones, who appeared under difl'erent choregi; 
 and that choregiis who performed his duties most efficiently carried off 
 the victory, in the honours of which his tribe also participated.
 
 120 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 elseTV'liere is able to compete ■witli it, nor can so many 
 handsome men be assembled together in any other city 
 as in this 1 " " Again yon speak truly," said the young 
 man. " Do you not think, then," continued Socrates, 
 " that if any one addressed himself diligently to the 
 task of improving our cavalry here, we should far sur- 
 pass others in this, as in other points, both with regard to 
 the equipment and discipline of our men and horses, and 
 in the alacrity with which we encountered the dangers 
 of the field, if we thought that praise and honour 
 would accrue to us thereby ? " " It is probable," re- 
 plied the other. " Make no delay, then," said Socrates ; 
 " but endeavour to encourage your men to such con- 
 duct as will contribute to your own welfare, and also 
 to that of your fellow- citizens through your influence." 
 " I will by all means make the attempt," said the 
 young man. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 And one day, seeing Nichomachides returning from an 
 election for heads of public departments, he asked him — 
 " Who have been appointed generals, Nichomachides % " 
 And Nichomachides answered thus — " Have not the 
 Athenians, Socrates, acted exactly as is their wont? 
 For they have not elected me, pierced through as I have
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CI? A TES. 1 2 1 
 
 been -vvhile borne on tlie roll of lieutenants and cap- 
 tains, and desperately wounded as I am" (here lie drew 
 aside his robe and showed the scars of his wounds); " but 
 they have elected Antisthenes, forsooth, a man who 
 never saw service as an infantiy soldier, and did 
 nothing remarkable when in the cavalry, but under- 
 stands only the accumulation of money." "And is not 
 this a good recommendation, in that it renders a general 
 capable of providing necessaries for his troops ? " " But 
 merchants," replied Nichomachides, " are capable of ac- 
 cumulating money, but that does not make them fit to 
 head an army." And Socrates said — " Antisthenes, at 
 any rate, is of an emulous disposition, which is a neces- 
 sary qualification for a general. Have you not noticed 
 that whenever he has been chorus-master,* he has on all 
 occasions carried off the victory with his chorusesi" 
 "But, by Jupiter," exclaimed Nichomachides, "there 
 
 • Chorus-master, or choregus. This was one of the leitourgiai or 
 public services (hence our word liturgy) which every citizen who pos- 
 sessed a certain property qualification at Athens was obliged by law to 
 undertake. The choregia was one of the most expensive of these 
 liturgies, and the chm-egus had to provide the choruses for the tragedies 
 and comedies performed, and the religious festivals celebrated at 
 Athens. In this capacity he had to supply the conductor, and all the 
 Tocal and instrumental performers, whom he not only had to pay for 
 their actual services, but to maintain and lodge during the time they 
 ■were in training. It devolved upon him also to provide the masks 
 dresses, and various other properties for the plays that were to be 
 represented, and in fact to defray most of the expenses incidental to 
 their proper production. The same chorus did not perform upon 
 every occasion, but various ones, who appeared under different clioregi; 
 and that choregvs who performed his duties most efficiently carried off 
 the victoiy, in the honours of which his tribe also participated.
 
 122 
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 is no analogy between the leading of a cliorns and of an 
 army." " But yet," continued Socrates, " this Antis- 
 tlienes, although he himself understood neither singing 
 nor the training of choruses, was nevertheless able to 
 procure the services of those who were most famous for 
 these accomplisliments." "And on the same prin- 
 ciple," said Nichomachides, " he will find in his army 
 some to draw up his jnen, and others to fight for him." 
 "If, therefore, he is as successful in finding out and 
 putting forward the best man in military as he is in 
 choral affairs, it is probable that he will be as victori- 
 ous in the former as he was in the latter. And there is 
 every likelihood that he will be more willing to incur 
 expense in order to secure victory in the field with the 
 whole state, than he would be to carry oft' the prize for 
 a chorus with his single tribe." " Do you assert, then, 
 Socrates, that the same man who manages a chorus suc- 
 cessfully must also be able to handle an army properly 1" 
 " I certainly maintain," said Socrates, " that whatever 
 a man presides over, if he knows what is required and 
 is able to provide it, he will be a good president, 
 whether it be over a chorus, or a family, or a state, or 
 an army." And Nichomachides exclaimed—" By Jupi- 
 ter ! I should never have expected to have heard ^you 
 maintain that good domestic managers would also make 
 good generals." " Come, then," said Socrates, " let us 
 investigate their respective duties, that we may ascer- 
 tain whether they are identical or the reverse." " Will
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 123 
 
 ingly," said Nicliomacliides." " Is it not, tlien, the 
 duty of eacli to render those whom they govern obe- 
 dient both to their commands and their wishes ? " 
 " Certainly it is," replied tlie other. " Again, is it not 
 their duty to appoint to every one his allotted tasks ? " 
 " That is also their duty," said Nichomachides. " And 
 the punishing of the bad and rewarding the good is 
 also, I suppose', the province of each of them ?" " No 
 doubt it is," replied the other. " And does it not 
 argue well for both, that those who are under their 
 orders should be well disposed towards tliem ] " " Un- 
 questionably it does," said Nichomacliides. " And does 
 the securing of allies and auxiliaries seem to you to be 
 conducive to both their interests or not % " " As con- 
 ducive to their interests, of course." " Should they not 
 each be careful to guard their resources 1 " " By all 
 means," answered the other. " Should they not both, 
 then, be diligent and attentive to their respective 
 duties 1 " " In these points," rejoined Nichomachides, 
 " the analogy holds good between them, but they have 
 not both to fight." " But, at any rate, I suppose they 
 both have enemies ? " " That, no doubt, they have." 
 " Is it not, then, equally their interest to gain the 
 superiority over such ] " " Certainly it is. But, passing 
 over this question, if it should be necessary to fight, 
 of what use would skill in managing a household 
 be 1 " " It would, in such a case," replied Socrates, " be, 
 as I should imagine, of the greatest possible use ; for a
 
 124 MEMQIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 good manager of a houseliokl, knowing that nothing is 
 so advantageous and valuable as to get tlie better of your 
 adversaries in a contest, and nothing so unprofitaljle 
 and injurious as to be worsted by them, will zealously 
 seek out and provide all such things as may most con- 
 duce to secure the victory, and will carefully watch and 
 guard against everything that tends to his defeat. He 
 will, likewise, fight with alacrity if he sees that his pre- 
 parations are such as are adapted to secure the victory, 
 and he Avill be no less averse from engaging should he 
 find himself insufficiently prepared. Do not, therefore, 
 Nichomachides," he continued, " despise men who are 
 skilled in the management of a household ; for the man- 
 agement of private affairs differs from that of public 
 only in their magnitude, but in other respects they 
 closely resemble one another. Tlie chief point, how- 
 ever, is, that they are neither of them conducted with- 
 out men ; and private matters are not conducted by 
 one sort of men and public business by another ; for 
 those who have the superintendence of public aflairs do 
 not select men different in khid from those who are em- 
 ployed by managers of their own private households. 
 And those who imderstand how to turn such men's 
 services to account are good administrators both in 
 private and public affairs ; but those who have not such 
 knowledge perpetrate blunders in both."
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 1 2 : 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 And on one occasion, conversing with Pericles, the 
 son of the famous Pericles, he said—" I entertain the 
 hope, Pericles, that with you as commander-in-chief, 
 our state will flourish and become more renowned in 
 war, and that she will vanquish her enemies." And 
 Pericles answered—" I could Avish, Socrates, that your 
 words might be verified, hut I cannot see my way to 
 their accomplishment." " Are you willing, then," said 
 Socrates, " that we should converse upon the subject, 
 with a view to ascertain how it may be possible to 
 effect this ? " "I am willing," replied Pericles. " Are 
 you aware, then, that the Athenians are as numerous as 
 the Boeotians 1" "I am aware of the fact," repHed 
 Pericles. " And from which do you think the largest 
 bodies of fine and efficient men could be selected— the 
 Boeotians or the Atlienians ? " " Neither in this respect 
 do the Athenians appear to me to be inferior." " And 
 which of the two people do you consider to be the most 
 united among themselves % " " The Athenians, in my 
 opinion at least ; for many of the Boeotians, being op- 
 pressed by the Thebans,* bear a grudge against them, 
 but I never notice similar feeliugs displayed at Athens." 
 
 * Thebes, the chief city of Boeotia, and the head of that league of 
 twelve or fouiteen cities known as "the Boeotian Confederation,' was 
 one of the most celebrated cities of antiquity.— &e Smith's "Dictionary 
 0/' Greek and Roman Geography," sub voce " Thebx ISceotiw."
 
 126 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 " But, moreover, tlie Athenians are, as you will admit, 
 the most covetous of honour and the kindest-hearted of 
 all people ; and these are sentiments which act as very 
 strona incentives to men to undergo danger for the 
 sake °of glory and their country." " The Athenians," 
 remarked Pericles, " are certainly not deficient m these 
 qualities." "Assuredly, too, no people can point to 
 more numerous and nobler exploits performed by their 
 ancestors than the Athenians can, by which considera- 
 tion many of them are strongly influenced and stimu- 
 lated to the cultivation of valour and bodily prowess." 
 " All your assertions are true, Socrates ; but you know 
 that since the defeat of the thousand under Tolmides at 
 Lebadeia, and of Hippocrates and his forces at Delium,* 
 the reputation of the Athenians stands lower with the 
 Boeotians, while -the corn-age of the Thebans is rated 
 higher by the Athenians; so much so, indeed, that the 
 Bffiotians, who before these events did not dare, even in 
 
 . The former of these events took place b.o. 447. when Tolmides, 
 contrary to the advice of Pericles, marched into BceoUa w.th one 
 thousand Athenians and some allies, and took Cha.rone,a wh.ch he 
 gar'soned ; but while advancing on Coroneia, he fell m w.th a body of 
 Iclotians, Locrians, and Eubceans, by whom he was utterly routed and 
 ^•anThe second event occurred B.C. 424, when the Athenian gene- 
 rals Demosthenes and Hippocrates, had arranged to invade Boeot^a 
 rom three different points at once.. The latter had seized and fortihed 
 ieUum a frontier town between the two countries, and was on tha 
 point of returning to Athens when the Boeotian forces arnved A batt: 
 Ck place just within the Attic territory, in which the A.nenians 
 ^ere totally defeated and Hippocrates killed. Xenophon is sa.d to 
 have been engaged on the field, and to have been carried some distance 
 by Socrates after he hud falK-n from his horse during the flight.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 127 
 
 their own territory, to take tlie field against the Athe- 
 nians without the Spartans and other Peloponnesian 
 allies, are now actually threatening to invade Attica 
 single-handed ; while the Athenians, who formerly, 
 when the Boeotians were unaided, used to lay waste 
 their country, are at this moment in dread lest the 
 Boeotians should ravage Attica." " I know," said So- 
 crates, " that such is the case, and therefore the state 
 seems to me now all the more inclined to appoint an 
 efficient leader, as recognising the fact that confidence 
 ins]3ires carelessness, indolence, and insubordination, 
 while fear renders men more attentive, obedient, and 
 orderly. And you may perceive an analogy to this in 
 people's conduct on board ship ; for as long as they are 
 in no fear, they are disorderly above measure : but let 
 them dread a storm or some hostile attack, and they not 
 only implicitly obey orders, but even await the giving 
 of directions most anxiously and in silence, just like 
 dancers." " Well, then," said Pericles, " if the people 
 are now more than usually willing to obey orders, it 
 would seem to be the proper time for inquiring how 
 we can best enconrage them to strive to regain their 
 ancient pre-eminence, glory, and happiness." " If," 
 said Socrates, " we wished them to reclaim possessions 
 which other people held, we should most effectually 
 urge them on to this by representing to them that the 
 property had belonged to their ancestors, and was 
 riu'htfullv theirs. Similarly, as we wish them to strive to
 
 I30 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 eminence, tave neglected themselves, and so become 
 degenerate." "What course should they then now 
 pursue in order to regain their ancient high position]" 
 " It appears to me by no means doubtful, that if they 
 ■will ascertaia what were the measures adopted by their 
 ancestors, and act in accordance with them, they will 
 be in nowise less excellent than they were. But, if 
 they omit doing this, let them at any rate take example 
 by those who now hold the supremacy of Greece,* and 
 by imitating their practices, and employing the same 
 methods as they employ, they wiU. probably become not 
 at all inferior to them, but even, if they take proper 
 care, their superiors." "You mean," said Pericles, 
 " that honour and probity flourish in a locality far 
 distant from our city. For when will the Atheniana 
 ever reverence old age as the Spartans do ? since the 
 former commence their contemptuous conduct towards 
 their elders even with their parents. Or when will 
 they train, their bodies in a similar manner, despising 
 good condition as they do, and turning into ridicule all 
 those who cultivate it? And when wiU they obey 
 their rulers as the Spartans obey them, seeing that they 
 now take a delight in setting them at nought ? Or when 
 will they act as harmoniously together? they who, 
 instead of co-operating for their mutual interests, in- 
 timidate one another, and emy each other more than 
 
 • *.«., The Lacedaemonians. The constitution of Sparta is often 
 praised by Xenophon as being superior to that of Athens.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 1 3 1 
 
 any other people. More than any other people, too, 
 they wrangle in their public and private assemblies, and 
 go to law oftener one with another, and prefer thus 
 to live upon each other, rather than to unite for tlieir 
 general benefit. They treat public business as if it 
 concerned others rather than them themselves, and not 
 only quarrel over the transaction of it, but actually 
 rejoice in having the power of so doing. From these 
 sources a vast deal of ignorance and misery are en- 
 gendered in the state, and enmity and hatred of one 
 another prevails extensively among our fellow-citizens. 
 Hence I am in constant dread lest such feelings should 
 produce some terrible national calamity too grievous for 
 the state to bear." "Do not imagine, Pericles," said 
 Socrates, "that the Athenians suffer from a disorder 
 that is so utterly incurable. Do you not see how orderly 
 they are in naval affairs, what willing obedience they 
 yield to their leaders in the gymnastic contests,* and 
 how they submit themselves in a Avay that is not sur- 
 
 * Gymnastics formed an essential part of a liberal education at 
 Athens, and the gymnasiarchia, or superintendence of the gymnasia, 
 formed one of the public services or i/htr/yte^ already mentioned (see 
 ante, p. 121). In these, as well as in the choral performances, contests 
 took place between the various tribes at the great games and festivals 
 and those who competed for them underwent regular training under 
 persons who afterwards attended them in the arena, and directed their 
 movements there. The exercises comprehended under the term 
 gymnastics consisted not only of feats of strength, as among us, but 
 included also running, wrestling, boxing, ball-playing, throwing the 
 quoit and javelin, and a variety of what we tei-m athletic sports —.See 
 Smith's "Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities," sub vv. 
 " Gymnasium," " Lampadephoria," and " rentathlon."
 
 132 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 passed by any other people to the directions of their 
 chorus-masters?" "It is indeed extraordinary," re- 
 marked Pericles, " that people engaged in such occu- 
 pations should so implicitly obey those who are in 
 authority over them ; but that the infantry and cavalry, 
 v^•ho are supposed to excel the rest of the citizens in. 
 worth and valour, should at the same time be the 
 most insubordinate of all classes." Then said Socrates-- 
 " And is not the council of the Areiopagus,* Pericles, 
 composed of men of approved character?" "By all 
 means," answered Pericles. " And do you," continued 
 Socrates, "know of any tribunal that acts more honour- 
 ably, lawfully, solemnly, and equitably, either in the 
 administration of justice or any other business ? " "I 
 find no fault with them in these respects," replied the 
 other. " We must not, therefore," said Socrates, " despair 
 of the Athenians on the ground of their insubordina- 
 tion." " And yet, in military matters, where prudence, 
 order, and subordination are of the greatest moment, 
 they utterly disregard them." " They do so, perhaps,"' 
 
 * The name of the highest criminal court of Athens. It also took 
 cognisance of certain political, civil, and religious matters ; but there 
 has been much difference of opinion among various writers upon the 
 subject of the e.xtentof its powers with regard to these latter questions, 
 and also as to the number of members composing it. AVhatever these 
 may have been, it is certain that its character stood very high in the 
 estimation of all the Athenian public, and the Areiopagites were in- 
 variably treated with the utmost respect as men of the greatest moral 
 worth, both in their pulilic and private capacities.— 5ee Smith's 
 ^'Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities," sub vv. "Areiopagus," 
 ^'Archon," and " Epheta."
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES'. 133 
 
 rejoined Socrates, "because their leaders in sucli 
 matters understand but little about them. Do you. 
 not notice, in the case of harp-players, choristers, 
 wrestlers, and athletes of any kind, that no one 
 attempts to direct them unless he himself understands 
 their respective arts, but that all who act as instructors 
 in such professions are able to point to the sources from 
 whence they obtained their knov\dedge of the callings 
 over which tliey preside ; whereas most of our generals 
 act without any previous instruction at all ? I do not, 
 however, regard you as one of these ; for I take it that 
 you can tell when you began to practise generalship, 
 just as you can when you began to practise wrestling ; 
 and I suppose that you have treasured up in your 
 memory many of those principles of warfare Avhich your 
 father inculcated upon you, and that you have collected 
 from various sources all the information you could 
 acq^uire upon every point that might be useful to you 
 as a generah I conclude, too, that you take all possible 
 care that you may not be unwittingly ignorant of any- 
 thing that may be serviceable to you in such a capacity, 
 and that if you are personally deficient in such know- 
 ledge, you have applied to persons who possess it, 
 sparing neither your pocket nor your influence to learn 
 from them such matters as you yourseK did not under- 
 stand, and to earn their valuable co-operation." And 
 Pericles replied — " You do not, Socrates, deceive me 
 by making me believe that you say these things of me
 
 134 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 because you think that I have been properly instructed 
 in these matters, but because you design to show me 
 how that a man who is about to act as a general should 
 pay great attention to them all. And with this opinion 
 of yours I thoroughly coincide." " And haA^e you con- 
 sidered this, Pericles," continued Socrates, "that we 
 haA'e on our frontiers huge mountains, which extend as 
 far as Bceotia, through Avliich narrow and rugged passes 
 lead into our country, and that its centre is also girded 
 about by inaccessible mountains ? " " Certainly I 
 have," answered Pericles. "And have you not heard 
 that the Mysians and Pisidians,* who occupy very strong 
 positions in the country of the great king, and are but 
 lightly armed, are able to make incursions into the 
 king's territory, and while they commit great ravages 
 there, nevertheless maintain their own independence ? " 
 " I hear that such is the case," said Pericles. " And 
 do you not think," asked Socrates, " that the Athenians, 
 if equipped with even lighter arms, when they are 
 young and active, could, by occupying the mountains 
 which bound our country, inflict great injury upon 
 their enemies, and form a most efficient bulwark for our 
 own countrymen ? " "I think," answered Pericles, " that 
 all such manoeuvres would be useful." " If, then, these 
 
 * These nations occupied parts of the north-west and south of Asia 
 Minor (now Turkey in Asia), and were not only in the habit of making 
 incursions into Persia (of which the king was always styled by the 
 Greeks "the great king"), but had also established settlements 
 there.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 13S 
 
 jlans satisfy you," rejoined Socrates, "be earnest, my 
 good friend, in endeavouring to realise tliem ; for what- 
 ever portion of them you carry out will redound to your 
 own credit and to the benefit of the state. But if you fail 
 in any of them through want of support, you will neither 
 injure the state nor bring disgrace upon yourself." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 And when Glaucon, the son of Ariston, attempted to 
 harangue the people, with a view to .obtaining the 
 presidency of the state, although he was not yet 
 twenty years of age, and none of his relations or 
 friends could prevail upon him to refrain from getting 
 himself pulled down from the rostrum and making 
 himseK ridiculous, Socrates, who felt kindly disposed 
 towards him for Charmides, the son of Glaucon, and 
 for Plato's sake, prevented him from prosecuting 
 his design. For meeting the young man by chance, 
 and wishing to induce him to listen to his advice, 
 he stopped him, and addressed him somewhat in these 
 terms : — " So you have made up your mind, Glaucon, 
 to be the chief governor of our state 1" "I have," 
 replied the other. " By Jupiter," replied Socatres, " it is 
 as honourable a post as any among men can be ; for it 
 is evident that if you succeed in this you will be in a
 
 136 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 position not only to obtain all tlie objects of yonr own 
 ambition, but also be able to serve your friends. You 
 will exalt yonr father's house and magnify your country. 
 Yonr name Avill be celebrated first in our own state, 
 and afterwards throughout Greece ; and you will per- 
 haps be regarded as a second Themistocles even among 
 barbarous nations, and an object of admiration wher- 
 ever you may be." Bo Glaucon, being mightily flattered 
 at hearing these words, willingly tarried. And when 
 this had happened, Socrates proceeded to say—" But is 
 it not evident, Glaucon, that if you seek to be honoured, 
 the state must be benefited by you ? " " Certainly," re- 
 plied Glaucon. " By the gods, then," exclaimed So- 
 crates, "do not conceal from us, but declare at once 
 from what point you intend to start in order to benefit 
 the state." But when Glaucon continued silent, as 
 considering how he would begin, Socrates said — " Pray 
 now tell me whether, just as if you wished to aggran- 
 dise a friend's household you would endeavour to make 
 liini richer, so yoir Avould also strive to make the state 
 wealthier % " " By all means," replied Glaucon. 
 " Would it not, then, become wealthier if its revenues 
 were increased % " " Probably so," said Glaucon. 
 " Tell me, then," said Socrates, " from what sources do 
 our state revenues seem to you to be derived, and what 
 is their extent ? For, no doubt, you have considered 
 how, if any one of them falls short, you may make up 
 the deficiency, and how, if any of them fail altogether,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 1 3 7 
 
 yoti maj'' acquire others." " But, l)y Jupiter," rejoined 
 Glaucon, " I have never considered anytliing about 
 this." "Well, then," continued Socrates, "if you 
 have neglected to study these topics, you can at any 
 rate tell me "what our state expenditure is ] For you 
 surely intend to cut off all superfluity in this respect % " 
 " Neither, by Jupiter," said Glaucon, " have I had 
 leisure to turn my attention to this subject." " Let us, 
 then, omit the consideration of how to make our state 
 wealthier ; for how can any one who is ignorant of its 
 expenditure and income exercise control over these 
 matters % " " But, Socrates," said Glaucon, " it is also 
 possible to enrich one's state even at the expense of one's 
 enemies." " Exiremely possible, by Jupiter," rejoined 
 Socrates, "if one is stronger than they ; but should one 
 be weaker, one may lose all that one has." "You 
 speak the truth," said Glaucon. " Therefore," continued 
 Socrates, " he who is considering what sort of people 
 he purposes to go to war with, ought to be acquainted 
 with the strength both of his own country and of the 
 enemy's, so that if his own state is the more powerful, 
 he may advise it to undertake the war, but if it be 
 weaker than that of the enemy, he may counsel 
 caution." " What you say is correct," remarked Glau- 
 con. " In the first place, then," continued Socrates, 
 " tell us what is the strength of our own country, both 
 in land and sea forces ; and, secondly, what is that of 
 But, by Jupiter, I cannot tell it you by
 
 138 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 rote." "Well, then," rejoined Socrates, "if you have 
 a written summary of them, produce it, for I should 
 listen to this with very great pleasure." " But neither, 
 by Jupiter," replied Glaucon, "have I ever even written 
 out such a list." " WeU, then," said Socrates, " let us 
 also omit the topic of war as a starting-point for our 
 speculations, since, on account of the magnitude of the 
 considerations involved in it, you have not, perhaps, as 
 you have but lately commenced your administration, as 
 yet thoroughly investigated these points. But I feel 
 sure that you have at any rate turned your attention 
 to the garrisoning of the country, and you know how 
 many garrisons should be maintained and how many 
 are needless ; how many men are required to form them 
 and how many are redundant ; and you intend to pro- 
 pose the strengthening of those which are necessary, and 
 the displacing of those which are superfluous." "By 
 Jupiter," exclaimed Glaucon, "as far as I am concerned, 
 I should displace them aU, since, from their negligent 
 method of keeping guard, the country is often robbed 
 of its property." " And yet, if the garrisons were re- 
 moved altogether, do you not think that anybody who 
 had the slightest inclination to plunder us could do so ? 
 But," he added, " have you gone personally to examine 
 into this matter, or how do you know that a negligent 
 guard is kept 1 " "I conjecture that such is the case," 
 replied the other. " Well, then," said Socrates, " shall 
 we defer our consideration of this topic also until such
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 139 
 
 time as we rely not upon conjecture, Lut upon specific 
 information ? " " Perhaps it will be better if we do so," 
 answered Glaucon, " With regard to the silver mines,* 
 then," said Socrates, " I hnow that you have never 
 ■visited them, so as to be able to tell us why there 
 is less revenue derived from them now than there 
 formerly was." " I cannot tell you, because I have 
 never been there." " No doubt, they are said to be in 
 a very unhealthy situation, so that when it becomes 
 necessary to take this matter into consideration, you 
 can plead tliat as a sufficient excuse." "You are 
 bantering me," exclaimed Glaucon. " But I feel sure," 
 resumed Socrates, " that you have not neglected to 
 calculate how long the corn which is grown in the 
 country will suffice to support the city, and how much 
 is required for the year's consumption, so that any 
 scarcity, in this respect at least, may not escape your 
 notice, but that you will be able, from your own 
 
 • These silver mines were situated at Lauriurn, now Legrana, or 
 Alegrana, near Sunium, the extreme soutliern promontory of Attica, 
 at about twenty-two miles distance from Athens. They were the pro- 
 perty of the state, and were one of the chief sources of its prosperity 
 from a very remote period of its history. Certain of the districts were 
 sold or let to companies or individuals, partly in consideration of a sum 
 or fine paid down, and partly for a rent amounting to one twenty-fourth 
 of the produce of their workings, and the sums so received wei'e paid 
 into the treasury. The value of the mines had greatly deteriorated in 
 the time of Xenophon from the gradual failure of the ore, and at the 
 end of the first century of the Christian era, they altogether ceased to 
 be worked ; but modern travellers tell us that the heaps of scorite and 
 shafts of the ancient mines are still visible.
 
 I40 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 knoTvledge, to advise witli tlie state upon its neces- 
 sities, and so to assist and save it." " You suggest," said 
 Glaucon, " an exceedingly vast field of action, if at 
 least it is requisite to pay attention to these matters 
 also." "But yet," rejoined Socrates, "no one could 
 ever administer his own household properly without 
 knowing what it stood in need of, and taking care to 
 supply its wants. B^it since the city consists of more 
 than ten thousand households, and it is difiicult to 
 provide for so many at once, how is it that you ha^-e 
 never essayed to cater even for one family — say that of 
 your uncle, as it certainly needs assistance ? And if you 
 are able to provide for his establishment, you can then 
 take others in hand. If you cannot be of service to 
 one, how can you be so to a great number 1 Just as 
 if a man cannot carry a talent, is it not self-evident 
 that he cannot carry a heavier weight, and that it is 
 absurd for him to attempt it % " " But, Socrates," said 
 Glaucon, " I would be of service to my imcle's house- 
 hold, if he would but be guided by me." "Well, 
 then," said Socrates, " if you cannot induce your uncle 
 to be guided by you, how do you expect to be able to 
 makeall the Athenians, including your unele,follow your 
 lead ? Beware, Glaucon, lest, whUe you are ambitious 
 of acquiring glory, you do not meet with the reverse 
 of it. Or do you not perceive how hazardous a thing 
 it is for a man to speak upon or to undertake matters 
 in which he has no experience? Reflect upon other
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 141 
 
 men ttat you know, wlio are of such a character that 
 they talk about, and busy themselves in, affairs of which 
 they are ignorant, and do they seem to you to obtain 
 more praise or blame in reference to them ] Regard, 
 again, those who do understand the subjects upon 
 which they converse and act, and you Avill find, I think, 
 that in every business those are the best thought of, 
 and the most admired, who have the most extensive 
 knowledge of it ; and that those wlio are the most 
 ignorant are the most lightly esteemed and despised. 
 If, therefore, you desire to stand high in the respect 
 and admiration of the state, strive to obtain a thorough 
 knowledge of the business in which you intend to 
 engage. For if, after you have surpassed others in 
 accomplishing this, you then undertake to conduct the 
 affairs of the state, I should not be surprised if you 
 very easily attain the object of your ambition." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 And perceiving that Charmides, the son of Glaucon, 
 was a man of worth, and of far greater ability than 
 many who were at that time employed in state affairs, 
 but that he, nevertheless, shrank from presenting him- 
 self before the people, and accepting a post in the
 
 142 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 administration — " Tell me, Charmides," said he, " if a 
 man who was capable of winning a crown in the public 
 games, and so acquiring honour for himseK and making 
 his birthplace more renowned throughout Greece, and 
 yet should be unwilling to contend for it, what opinion 
 would you entertain of his character ? " "I should 
 certainly consider liim as being both effeminate and 
 pusillanimous." " And if any one," continued So- 
 crates, " by taking part in the affairs of the state, could 
 at the same time add to its prosperity and his own 
 honour, and yet should shrink from undertaking the 
 task, might he not justly be regarded as a coward % " 
 " Perhaps so," replied Charmides ; " but with what in- 
 tent have you put these questions to me?" " Because," 
 replied Socrates, " I think that you, although you have 
 the ability to engage in duties which it becomes you as 
 a citizen to undertake, nevertheless shrink from them." 
 Then Charmides asked — " And in what transaction 
 have you discovered this ability of mine, as you term 
 it, that you thus condemn me ? " " At the councils," 
 answered Socrates, " at whicli you meet those who are 
 transacting the business of the state. On those occa- 
 sions I notice that when they consult you upon any 
 point, you give them very excellent advice, and if they 
 commit any blunder, you deservedly find fault with 
 them." " But," objected Charmides, " there is a vast 
 difference, Socrates, between a private discussion and 
 haranguing in public." " And yet," said Socrates, " a
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 143 
 
 good arithmetician can calculate just as well in a crowd 
 as he can when alone, and those who play the harp 
 best when by themselves, are also the best performers 
 in public." " But do you not recognise the fact that 
 bashfulness and tiiftidity are inherent in men's natures, 
 and affect them far more in crowds than they do in 
 private assemblies?" "I feel compelled, then," said 
 Socrates, "to point out to you how that you are not 
 bashful in the presence of the most intelligent, or timid 
 in that of the most powerful people ; but yet you are 
 ashamed to speak before the most foolish and weak. Is 
 it to such folks as fullers, or cobblers, or carpenters, or 
 brassfounders, or farmers, or merchants, or chafferers 
 in the market, and those who are for ever tliinking 
 how they may make a profit by their dealings, that 
 you are bashful about making a speech ? And it is of 
 these very classes that a public meeting is composed. 
 In what respects do you think your conduct differs 
 from that of an athlete who, being superior to profes- 
 sional opponents, yet fears to encounter mere amateurs ? 
 For do not you, who speak without diffidence before 
 the most talented politicians (some of whom think but 
 lightly of you), and who are far si:perior to many who 
 are constantly delivering political orations, shrink from 
 addressing those who have never turned their attention 
 at all to politics, and have never shown any contempt 
 for you, for fear that you should be laughed at I " 
 "And pray," asked Charmides, "do not those who
 
 144 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 speak admirably at a public meeting often seem to you 
 to be lauglied at % " " Certainly," said Socrates, " and so 
 also do the otters,* and therefore it is that I wonder at 
 yonr being so ready to encounter one sort of audience, 
 while you fancy that you have not sufficient ability even 
 to present yourself before the other. Be not ignorant, 
 of yourself, my good friend, and do not make the same 
 mistake which most people do ; for men generally, 
 although they are very eager to know all about their 
 neighbours, do not display the same anxiety in refer- 
 ence to themselves. Do not you, therefore, pretermit 
 this task, but strive more and more to apply yourself to 
 such duties as become you. And do not neglect the 
 business of the state if you can in any way improve its 
 institutions ; for if these stand on a sound basis, not 
 only the rest of your fellow- citizens, but your own 
 personal friends, and you yourself, will reap the most 
 substantial advantage. 
 
 * By "the others," Socrates means those to whom Charmides gave 
 such excellent advice in private, but who laughed at him behind his 
 back, perhaps more than those whom he addressed in public would do.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 145 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 And when Aristippus attempted to confute Socrates, 
 as he had himself been previously confuted by him,* 
 the latter, wishing his associates to profit by the 
 occasion, answered not as those do who are on their 
 guard lest by any chance their words should be mis- 
 interpreted, but, like those Avho are firmly convinced 
 that they are discharging their duty to the utmost of 
 their power. Aristippus then asked him whetlier " he 
 knew anj-thing good," so that if he should instance any 
 such thing as meat, or drink, or Avealth, or health, or 
 strength, or courage, he might, forsooth, prove that it 
 was fiometimes an evil. But Socrates, as knowing that 
 if anything annoys us, we desire some means of putting 
 an end to the annoyance, answered just in the way that 
 it was best to do. " Do you ask me, for instance," said 
 he, " whether I know anything good for fever ? " " Not 
 I," answered Aristippus. " Well, then, for ophthalmia %" 
 " Nor for that either." " For hunger, then % " " No, 
 nor yet for hunger." "Then," said Socrates, "if in 
 truth you ask me whether I know anything good, that 
 is good for nothing whatever, I neither know it, nor do 
 I require to know it." 
 
 And when Aristippus asked him again whether he 
 
 * See ante, Book II. chap. i. pp. 5i 68.
 
 146 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 knew anything beautiful, "Yes, many things," re- 
 plied Socrates. "Do they then all resemble each 
 other?" inquired Aristippus. "Some of them," re- 
 plied Socrates, "are as unlike one another as it is 
 possible for them to be." " How, then, can the beauti- 
 ful be unlike the beautiful ? " " Because, by Jupiter," 
 said Socrates, " a man who is beautifully formed for 
 running is unlike another who is beautifully formed 
 for wrestling, and a shield which is beautifully made 
 for resisting blows is very different in every single 
 particular from a javelin which is beautifully made for 
 being hurled forcibly and swiftly." " You answer me," 
 said Aristippus, " exactly as you did when I asked you 
 whether you knew anything good." "And do you 
 imagine," asked Socrates, " th^t the Good is one thing 
 and the Beautiful another ?(^Do you not know that, 
 with reference to the same objects, everything that is 
 beautiful is also good f> Thus, for instance, in the first 
 place, virtue is not good with reference to some objects, 
 and beautiful in regard to others. Again, too, in like 
 manner, human beings are designated as beautiful 
 and good in reference to the same objects, and human 
 bodies appear beavitifiil and good in reference to the 
 same objects. And so all other things ^vhich are sub- 
 servient to men's uses are considered beautiful and 
 good in reference to those points in which they answer 
 their purposes." "Can, then, a dung-basket be a 
 beautiful thing \ " asked Aristippus. " Yes, by Jupiter,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 1 4 7 
 
 it can," answered Socrates ; " and a golden shield may- 
 be an Tigly thing, if the former be well-made, so as to 
 be adapted for its particular use, and the latter ill- 
 made." " You maintain, then, that the same things 
 can be both beautiful and ugly ? " " Yes, by Jupiter, 
 I do maintain it, and also that the same things may 
 be good and bad ; for frequently that which is good for 
 hunger is bed for a fever, and what is good for a fever 
 is bad for hunger. And often what is beautiful in 
 running is iigly in wnrestling, and what is beautiful in 
 wrestling is ugly in running. In a word, whatever 
 is good is also beautiful in reference to those objects 
 to which it is well-adapted, and whatever is bad is 
 ugly in respect to those objects to which it is ill- 
 adapted." 
 
 And when he said, too, that the houses which were 
 beautiful were also useful, he seemed to me at least to 
 teach us what sort of houses we should biiild. And he 
 speculated on the subject thus : — " Pray, ought not he 
 who cares to have a house built as it should be, con- 
 trive so that it should be as pleasant and convenient as 
 possible to live in 1 " This being admitted, he pro- 
 ceeded — "Is it not, then, pleasant for it to be cool in 
 summer and warm in winter 'I " And when his hearers 
 had assented to this proposition, he continued — " Does 
 not the sun, in such houses as front the south, shine 
 obliquely during the winter-time into the porticos, 
 while in the summer it passes vertically over the roofs,
 
 148 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. ■ 
 
 and affords us sliade ? Is it not well, therefore, if at 
 any rate this position Ise a good one for a house, to 
 build it in such a way that it shall be highest towards 
 the south, so that the winter sun may not be shut out, 
 and lower towards the north, so that the cold winds 
 may not beat upon it so violently ? To speak as con- 
 cisely as possible, that would be probably the pleasantest 
 and most beautiful dwelling-house to which the owner 
 could most agreeably betake himself at all seasons, and 
 in which he could most safely deposit his goods. Paint- 
 ings and decorations deprive us of more pleasure than 
 they afford."* And he said that the sites most ap- 
 propriate for temples and altars were those which were 
 most exposed to view, and yet the least frequented ; 
 for that it was pleasant for people to look upon the 
 worshippers while they were praying, and to be able to 
 approach the temple without fear of contamination.t 
 
 * Socrates here doubtless alludes to the mural paintings and decora- 
 tions with which the ancient Athenians were fond of adorning the 
 iusides of their houses. In order that these might not be injured by 
 the climate, the chambers which contained them were in the inner- 
 most part of the building, so that they might be as far removed as 
 possible from the influence of the sun's rays. Hence those rooms 
 which were so decorated were generally the darkest and most cheerless, 
 and, moreover, the keeping them in order was a constant source of 
 
 expense. 
 
 t Contact with diseased persons, corpses, criminals, and other causes 
 of defilement were more likely to occur in a crowded than in a lonely 
 neighbourhood ; and the law was that no one who laboured under 
 defilement should be allowed to approach the temples and altars for " 
 the sake of joining in any religious ceremony.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 149 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 And being asked again whetlier courage could be 
 taught, or whether it was a gift of nature, " I think," 
 said he, " that as one body is formed by nature more 
 capable of enduring labour than another body, so also 
 that one soul by nature meets danger with more forti- 
 tude than does another soul ; for I perceive that men 
 who are brought up under the very same laws and 
 institutions diiier very much from one another in 
 dctring. I hold, however, that by education and 
 practice all natures are capable of being improved in 
 bravery ; for it is evident that the Scythians and 
 Thracians would not dare to take bucklers and spears 
 to fight against the Spartans, and it is plain, too, that 
 the Spartans would not like to engage eitlier the 
 Thracians with small shields and javelins or the 
 Scythians with bows. And I see that men difler 
 from each other equally in their nature with regard 
 to all other matters besides these, and that they im- 
 prove considerably by practice. Hence it is manifest 
 that those who are the most gifted, and those who by 
 nature are the dullest, should both study and practise 
 those acquirements in which they desire to excel. -\ . 
 
 He drew no distinction between Avisdom and temper- ' 
 ance, for he considered a man \\\\o knew what was honour-
 
 1 50 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 able and good, and how to practise it, and who, recognis- 
 ing what was base, had the power to withstand it, to be 
 bcdi wise and temperate. Being asked, again, whether 
 he esteemed those who, knowing what was their duty, 
 acted in opposition to that knowledge, as wise and conti- 
 nent, he said—" I regard such people merely as foolish 
 and intemperate characters, for I suppose that every 
 one, in any case in which it is possible for him to 
 do so, chooses that which he thinks will be best for 
 him, and acts accordingly. And my opinion is, that 
 those who do not act rightly are neither wise nor tem- 
 perate." 
 
 He asserted, too, that justice and every kind of virtue 
 was wisdom, for that all just and virtuous deeds were 
 honourable and good, and that those who could recog- 
 nise this fact would never prefer any other actions to 
 these; while they who could not perceive this would 
 never perform such actions, but would commit some 
 error even if they rmdertook them. Hence that the wise 
 acted honourably and well, but that the unwise were 
 not able so to act, or else committed some mistake if 
 they made the attempt. And that since all just deeds, 
 and whatsoever things are honourable and good, are 
 carried out in accordance with virtue, it was manifest 
 that both justice and every other kind of virtue was 
 
 wisdom. 
 
 He asserted that the opposite of wisdom was insanity, 
 but he did not reckon ignorance as insanity, although
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 1 5 1 
 
 for a man not to know himself, and to fancy and believe 
 that he knows things of which he is ignorant, he con- 
 sidered as a very near approach to insanity. People in 
 general, he remarked, do not say that those are insane 
 who make mistakes upon points of which the majority 
 of mankind are ignorant, but they call those insane who 
 go wrong in regard to matters with which almost every 
 one is familiar. Thus, if a man should fancy himself 
 so tall as to stoop when going through the gates of the 
 city wall, or so strong as to attempt to lift up houses, or 
 to address himself to any task which every one knew 
 to be utterly impracticable, people would say that he 
 was insane ; but that those Avho make trifling mis- 
 takes are not usually considered insane, but as people 
 generally designate strong desire "love," so they call 
 great aberration of intellect " insanity." 
 
 • And when speculating upon the nature of envy, he 
 defined it as being a certain Idnd of sorrow entextained 
 not on account of the misfortunes of friends, nor result- 
 ing from the prosperity of enemies, but he asserted that 
 the envious were never vexed l)ut at the good success of 
 their friends. Hence, when certain persons professed 
 astonishment at any one's feeling grieved at tlie pros- 
 perity of his friends, he reminded them that many 
 men are so disposed towards others that although they 
 would never neglect them in adversity, but would 
 render them any assistance in their misfortunes, yet they 
 are annoyed at their prosperity. A sensible man, he
 
 152 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 affirmed, -would never entertain these feelings, but tlie 
 foolisli were constantly subject to tlieni. 
 
 And wben considering what want of occupation Avas, 
 be said that be found that all men, indeed, were occu- 
 pied in some way or another, but yet that the majority 
 were unoccupied ; for that dice-players and buffoons 
 ■were employed, but yet, he declared that all such in- 
 dividuals were unoccupied, for that they had it in their 
 power to betake themselves to other avocations better 
 than those. He did not hold that a man was unoccu- 
 pied by giving up a good employment for a worse, but 
 that any one who did so, as he had once been, well 
 employed, was acting viciously in this respect. 
 
 Kings and commanders, he maintained, were not those 
 merely who wielded sceptres, or were elected by some 
 haphazard, or chosen by lot, or who had obtained their 
 position by violence or fraud, but those who understood 
 the art of government. For when some one admitted 
 that it devolved upon a governor to issue orders, and upon 
 the governed to obey them, he showed how that on board 
 ship it was the experienced man who took the command, 
 while the steersman and all the crew and passengers 
 obeyed him. In agriculture, too, he argued, that those 
 who were landholders ; in sickness, those who were ill ; 
 in bodily exercises, those who traiued their bodies, and 
 in all other pursuits, those ^^•ho were engaged in any 
 business requiring care, took the personal superintend- 
 ence of it if they thought they understood it; but
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 153 
 
 if not, that they were not only willing to listen to any 
 experienced person who might be at hand, Ijiit would 
 even send for those who were at a distance, in order 
 that, by acting under their directions, they might do that 
 which was proper. He showed, too, that in woollen- 
 work women dictated to men ; for that the former 
 understood how it should be done, while the latter did 
 not. And if any one objected to this argument, that a 
 tyrant should not be guided by judicious advisers — 
 " And wdiy," Socrates would reply, " should he not be 
 guided by them, seeing that a penalty attaches to any 
 one who does not listen to a good adviser ? For in 
 whatever matter a person refuses to act upon the ad'vdce 
 of a judicious monitor, he will assuredly commit some 
 error ; and if he does commit an error, he will pay the 
 penalty." And if any one happened to remark that a 
 tyrant might even put a wise counsellor to death, he 
 said — "And do you think that he who destroys his 
 best allies can escape the penalty of so doing, or that he 
 only runs a chance of incurring misfortunes ? And do 
 you imagine that he will by such a course of action be 
 more likely to live in safety, or to bring himself to 
 speedy ruin 1 " 
 
 And wdien another asked him what he thought the 
 worthiest object of man's pursuit, he replied — "Well- 
 doing." And when he was asked, again, whether he con- 
 sidered good fortune as an object that should be pur- 
 sued, he answered — "I regard good fortune and action as
 
 154 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 opposites in every respect ; for when a person who re- 
 quires anything lights upon ithy chance, that I hold to 
 be good fortune ; but for a person to perform any virtuous 
 action by dint of learning and practice, that I consider 
 to be well-doing. And those who make this the object 
 of their pursuit appear to me to act as they ought 
 
 to do." 
 
 And he maintained that the best men and the dearest 
 to the gods were those who, in agriculture, performed 
 their agricultural tasks well ; in medicine, their medical, 
 and in politics, their political duties ; but that a man 
 who did nothing well, was neither useful for any pur- 
 pose, nor dear to the gods. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 But moreover, whenever he chanced to converse with 
 any who practised the arts, and employed them as 
 a means of gaining a liveliliood, even to such he 
 was of service. Thus upon one occasion, when visiting 
 Parrhasius, the painter, he said to him, in the course 
 of conversation, "Tell me, Parrhasius, is not painting 
 the art of portraying visible objects ? At any rate, you 
 painters iinitate concavity and convexity, light and
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES, 1 5 5 
 
 shade, hardness and softness, the rough or the smooth, 
 and old or new substances by representing them through 
 the medium of colours." " You speak truly," replied 
 Parrhasius. " When, then, you would represent beauti- 
 ful forms, since it is not easy to find one human being 
 perfect in every respect, do you, by selecting out of 
 many models that which is best in each, so produce 
 figures which as a whole are faultless ? " " We do so," 
 answered the painter. "And do you also portray the 
 disposition of the mind according as it may be most 
 persuasively, most agreeably, most amicably, most 
 regretfully, or most lovingly inclined % Or is this 
 inimitable ? " " How can that be imitated, Socrates, 
 which has neither proportion, nor colour, nor any of 
 those qualities which you just now indicated, and which 
 is totally invisible % " " But cannot a man wear an ex- 
 pression either of friendship or of hatred when looking 
 at another ? " "I think he can," answered Parrhasius. 
 " Camiot that expression, then, be imitated by the ex- 
 pression imparted to the eyes ? " " Certainly," replied 
 the other. " And do those who take a lively interest 
 in the good or evil fortune of their friends, and those 
 who do not, appear to you to wear the same kind of 
 expression in either case 1 " " No, by Jupiter, they do 
 not ; for they look cheerful at their successes, and 
 melancholy at their failures." " Is it not, then," asked 
 Socrates, " possible to imitate these looks also ?" " Un- 
 doubtedly it is," answered Parrhasius. " Surely, then,"
 
 156 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 said Socrates, "nobility and liberality of disposition, 
 meanness and illiberality, sobriety and good sense, 
 insolence and rusticity, sliow themselves in the coun- 
 tenances and gestures of men either in their standing 
 or their moving postures." "You speak truly," said 
 Parrhasius. " Cannot these expressions, then, be imi- 
 tated ? " asked Socrates. " Certainly," replied the other. 
 "Whether do you think, then," continued Socrates, 
 " that men look with most pleasure on representations 
 of good and honourable and amiable characters, or on 
 those of the base and the depraved and the hateful % " 
 " There is, by Jupiter," exclaimed Parrhasius, " a vast 
 difference between them." 
 
 And once while visiting Cleito, the statuary, and 
 conversing with him, he said, " I see and know, Cleito, 
 that you make statues of all kinds, as of runners, and 
 wrestlers, and boxers, and pancratiasts ; * but how do 
 you impart to your figures that lifelike appearance 
 ■\\'hich so engages men's minds as they gaze upon 
 them 1 " And when Cleito hesitated, and did not give 
 an immediate answer, "Do you," asked Socrates, 
 "make your statues more lifelike by assimilating 
 your work to living models 1 " " Certainly," replied 
 Cleito. " Do you not thus make those parts of the body 
 
 * The name given to those athletes who contended in the pancratia, 
 or matches both for boxing and wrestling. The word signifies " power 
 of all kinds;" and these combats, demanding great strength and 
 activity, developed the muscles, and were only engaged in by athletes 
 who were in high training, and were thus the best models.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 1 5 7 
 
 ■which, are apparently drawn up or down, compressed 
 or separated, stretched out or relaxed, more like truth 
 and reality in their gestures'?" "Undoubtedly," 
 answered Cleito. " And does not the accurate repre- 
 sentation of the bodily feelings of those who are 
 engaged in any action afford a certain degree of plea- 
 sure to the spectators 1 " " It is probable, at any rate, 
 that it would do so." " Must you not, then, cojsy the 
 menacing looks of the combatants, and must not the 
 joyful expression of the victors be faithfully repre- 
 sented \ " " Certainly," replied Cleito. " The sculptor, 
 therefore, should express the workings of the mind by 
 the form." 
 
 Going once to Pistias, the corslet-maker, and Pistias 
 having shown him some well-made corslets, he said, 
 " By Juno, what an excellent invention is this, Pistias, 
 by which you can cover a man's breast, which is the 
 part that needs protection, while it leaves him at 
 liberty to use his hands. But tell me, Pistias," he 
 continued, " vvhy, since your corslets are neither 
 stronger nor more costly than those of other makers, 
 do you command a higher price for them than they 
 do ? " " Because, Socrates," replied Pistias, " I make 
 them better projDortioned than others." " And is this 
 proportion perceptible in the measure or weight of 
 each corslet, so as to make it evident that it is worth 
 more ; for surely you do not make them all aUke in 
 size and weight, if they are to fit different persons \ "
 
 158 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 " But, by Jupiter," exclaimed Pistias, " I do so make 
 them ; for without this, a corslet would be of no use." 
 " But are not the bodies of some men well, and of others 
 ill proportioned r' asked Socrates. "Undoubtedly," 
 replied Pistias. " Hoav, then," continued Socrates, 
 " can you make a well-proportioned corslet suit an ill- 
 proportioned body % " " By making it fit ; for one 
 which fits is well-proportioned." "You appear to 
 me," rejoined Socrates, " to talk of good proportion not 
 as an abstract quality, but simply in relation to the 
 individual, just as you might say of a shield or a cloak 
 that it is weU-proportioned to him that wears it ; and 
 the same rule seems, according to what you say, to apply 
 to other things also. But perhaps there may be some 
 decided advantage gained by making corslets to fit." 
 " Tell me, Socrates," said Pistias, " if you know any." 
 " Those corslets which fit are less oppressive by their 
 weight than those that do not fit, although one is, in 
 reality, as hea\'y as the other ; while those that do not 
 fit, either from their dragging at the shoulders, or 
 pressing too much upon some other part of the body, 
 are galling and inconvenient. But those which fit, by 
 distiibuting their weight partly over the collar-bone 
 and scapula, partly over the shoulders, partly over the 
 breast, partly over the back, and partly over the stomach, 
 are little felt as a burden to be borne, but seem rather 
 like a natural appendage." " You have mentioned the 
 very reason why I consider my corslets to be worth
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 159 
 
 more than others," said Pistias. " Nevertheless, some 
 people prefer purchasing ornamental and gilded cors- 
 lets." " Yet," said Socrates, " if, for the sake of such 
 decorations, they forego the question of their fit, they 
 seem to be purchasing an ornamental and gilded 
 nuisance. But," he continued, " since the body does 
 not always remain in the same posture, but is some- 
 times stooping, and at other times upright, how can 
 corslets that are made to fit it exactly, be well adapted 
 for wear ? " " They are not so, by any means," replied 
 Pistias. " Yon would imply," said Socrates, ' ' that those 
 corslets which are best adapted for wear are not the most 
 accurately fitting ones, but those that do not gall the 
 wearer." " The observations you yourself make npon 
 the matter, Socrates, are oorrect, and you comprehend 
 the subject most clearly." 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 There being at one time in the city a beautiful woman, 
 named Theodota, who was willing to be on intimate 
 terms with any cme who would pay her court, and 
 some one who was in Socrates' company talking of her, 
 and saying that her beauty beggared description, and
 
 1 60 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 
 
 that aU tlie painters, to whom she displayed her varioiis 
 charmsj.were anxious that she should sit to them,— " We 
 must go," said Socrates, "to see her, for it is impossible 
 to comprehend by hearsay that which surpasses descrip- 
 tion." " You had better, then, lose no time in follow- 
 ing me," said he who had broached the subject. 
 
 Eepairing, therefore, to Theodota's house, and find- 
 ing her standing to a painter, they inspected her. And 
 when the painter had finished, Socrates said—" Ought 
 we, gentlemen, to express our obligations to Theodotafor 
 having exhibited her charms to us, or she to us for our 
 having inspected them ? For, if the exhibition is rather 
 to her advantage, does she not owe her acknowledg- 
 ments to usi but if the balance of pleasure derived 
 from the sight is on our side, ought we not to feel grate- 
 ful to her % " And when some one remarked that his 
 observations were just, he continued thus : " As matters 
 now stand, then, she obtains present admiration from us, 
 and will gain future profit, when we have mentioned her 
 to others. Whereas we, who at this moment desire to 
 enjoy the charms we have beheld, shall go away dis- 
 quieted, and when we have gone away shall be tor- 
 mented by longing regrets ; and thus we shall be her 
 slaves, and she will be our mistress." And Theodota 
 exclaimed—" By Jupiter, if this is really so, I indeed 
 ought to be obliged to you for coming to see me." 
 
 And soon aftsr this, finding her most expensively 
 appareled, with her mother attired and adorned in a
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 1 6 1 
 
 manner above tlie common, and with, a large retinue of 
 female servants, avIio were both good-looking, and even, 
 although in a menial capacity, not carelessly dressed, 
 and her house luxuriously appointed in every other re- 
 spect, Socrates said — " Tell me, Theodota, do you pos- 
 sess any landed property ? " " Not I," said she. " But 
 perhaps you bave a bouse that brings you in- an in- 
 come]" "Neither bave I a bouse," answered she. 
 " Do you not, then, employ workmen ? "* " No, I do 
 not," said she. " How, then," asked Socrates, " do you 
 manage to Kve 1 " " If any one of my admirers," re- 
 plied she, " is generous to me, I live upon him." " By 
 Juno, Tbeodota," exclaimed Socrates, "what a fine 
 property is sucb a man ! and it is much better to own 
 a flock of friends, than of sheep, or oxen, or goats. But," 
 be continued, " do you trust to chance for a friend to 
 wing his way to you like a fly, or do you yourself 
 employ some contrivance to attract bim 1" " And Avby 
 should I seek for any contrivance in order to effect 
 this 1 " asked Theodota. " Much more appropriately, 
 by Juno," replied be, " than the spiders do ; for you 
 know bow they procure their sustenance. They weave 
 fine webs, and feed upon wbatever falls into them." 
 " And do you advise me," she asked, " to weave a web 
 to catch something?" "You do not surely imagine 
 
 * It was not at all unusual for the highest families in Athens to com- 
 pel their slaves to work at various trades during their spare time, and 
 the produce of their extra labour often added largely to the income of 
 their owners.
 
 1 62 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 that you -will secure friends, that prey wHch of all 
 others is most worth capturing, without craft? Do 
 you not see what numerous acts hare-hunters have 
 recourse to, although the value of the animal is so 
 trifling ? For as hares feed in the night, men provide 
 night-hounds to track them with, and as they slink under 
 cover of a day, they therefore procure other hounds, 
 which, by their scent, trace out the way they took 
 from their feeding grounds to their forms ; and because 
 they are so swift of foot as to get clean out of sight by 
 running, men also employ fleet dogs, so that they may 
 be captured by coursing. And forasmuch as even then 
 some of them escape the dogs, they place nets across 
 the paths by which they flee, so that they may fall 
 into them, and thus become entangled." "And by 
 what device," asked Theodota, " can I himt down 
 friends ? " " By employing some individual instead of 
 a dog, by Jupiter, to trace out and discover for you men 
 who are admirers of beauty, and have money, and who, 
 when he has discovered them, will contrive to entangle 
 them in your nets." " And what sort of nets have I ? " 
 asked she. " One you have, at any rate," answered he, 
 " which is eminently well adapted to enfold victims — 
 viz., your person ; and within it you possess an instinct 
 which tells you how you may give pleasure by a glance, 
 and by what sort of conversation you can captivate a 
 man, and how you ought to receive afiably one that 
 pays you attention, and to reject him. who treats you
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 163 
 
 with dmlam ; how to nnise tenderly a fdend who ia in 
 ill health, and to i^rmpathise greatly with him in any 
 success that he has achiered, and to show gratitude in 
 yonr soul to one who cares dncerely for you. The art of 
 loving tenderly I am indeed well assured that you under- 
 stand, and not only that, hut of loving with sincere good- 
 will ; and your Mends like you because you conciliate 
 them not by words alon^ but by deed*," ** Bu^ by 
 Jupiter," exclaimed Theodota, ** I do not plot to bring 
 about any of these results," **And yet," continued 
 Socrates, " it is of great importance to humour a man's 
 nature and treat him judiciously, for you can neither 
 make nor keep a fiiend by icaxe, albeit he is an animal 
 that is easily captured and secured by kind treatment 
 and a sense of gratification." ** You speak truly," said 
 she. "You must, then," he continued, **in the first 
 place, make upon those who have a regard for you such 
 demands only as wiU give tiiem the least possible 
 trouble ; and, in the next, you must requite them by 
 gratifying them in the same manner, for so th^ would, 
 be most likely to befriend you, and to love you the 
 longest, and do you the most kindnesses. And you 
 will please them most by granting them your fevours 
 upon their own solicitation only, for you know that even 
 the most saroury viands appear distasteful if one places 
 them before a person when he does not care for them, and 
 that they even di^;ust those who have eaten to satiety. 
 But if one offers them after having excited a cra^'ing
 
 i64 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 for tliem, tliey are exceedingly relisliaUe, even altliongli 
 tliey are of a very indifferent kind." "But how," 
 asked slie " can I excite sucli a craving in any one of 
 tlK.se who come to mel" "First, by Jupiter," re- 
 plied lie, " by not obtruding yoimeK upon those who 
 are already satiated, or even reminding them of your- 
 self, until, having recovered from their satiety, they 
 again feel a desire for your company. In the next place, 
 when they do show such a desire, remijid them of your- 
 self by modest familiarity, and by showing yonr will- 
 ingness to gratify them, while, at the same time, you 
 hold off until their ardour becomes very demonstrative. 
 For the same gifts become much more enhanced in 
 value when people long for them, than if they are 
 bestowed at a time when no such longing is felt." And 
 Theodota said—" Why, then, Socrates, do you not be- 
 come my fellow-hunter in the pursuit of lovers 1 " " So 
 I wiU, by Jrrpiter," exclaimed he, " if you can persuade 
 me." " How," returned she, " can I persuade you % " 
 " You wm discover the way to do this, and manage it 
 for yourself, if you find that you have any need of me." 
 "Come to me, then," said she, "very often." And 
 Socrates, making a joke of his o^vn love of retirement, 
 answered— " But, Theodota, it is not by any means 
 easy for me to find time to do so, inasmuch as my own 
 numerous engagements, both private and public,* leave 
 
 * Socrates must have either mentioned his "public engagements" 
 as a joke, or else have meant that he prepared others^ for public life,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 165 
 
 me no leisure. Moreover, I have mistresses ■who Avill 
 not suflfer me to be absent from them day or night, and 
 who are learning from me the use of love potions and 
 incantations." " Is this, too, one of the sciences that 
 yon profess, Socrates 1 " asked she. " For what other 
 reason, then," he asked, " do you suppose that ApoUo- 
 dorus here and Antisthenes* never leave me, and 
 why else that Cebes and Simmiasf come to me from 
 Thebes ] Be well assured that all this influence was 
 not obtained without many charms and incantations 
 and magical wheels." X " Send me, then, your wheel," 
 said she, " that I may set it spinning, to draw you to 
 me before any one else." " But, by Jupiter," answered 
 he, " I do not wish to be dra-\vii to you, but that you 
 
 although he himself took no part in it. See his conversation with 
 Antipho, as given in the last paragraph of Booli I. chap. vi. p. 53 
 anle. 
 
 * Antisthenes, who was the founder of the sect of philosophers known 
 as the Cynics, flourished B.C. 30(3. Diogenes was the most celebrated 
 individual of this school, the name of which is derived from Imon, "a 
 dog," in allusion to Cynosarge', the gymnasium in which they met, or, a.s 
 some think, from the nature of their teaching, or lying about the streets 
 and public thoroughfares, and sleeping in tubs, hke dogs.— &e Smith's 
 "Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology," sub 
 vv. ^'Antisthenes" and "Diogenes." 
 
 t Cebes and Simmias, who were brotliers, are introduced by Plato in 
 his Pha'don. They were very intimate with Socrates, and were among 
 those who were present at his death. Cf. anle, p. 23. 
 
 X Literally, " wry-necks." These were small birds, so called either 
 from their cry, or from the constant motion of their heads (Lat. tor- 
 quilla), which were tied to a wheel having four spokes. The person 
 using the incantation whirled this round, all the time chanting certain 
 words, which were believed to be effectual in producing the desired 
 effect, especially in reclaiming lost lovers.
 
 i66 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 should come to me." " Well, tlien, I yaVi come," said 
 she, " and be siire you admit me." " I certainly will 
 do so," answered Socrates, " unless I should have with 
 me any mistress whom I prefer to you." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Observing that one of his followers, called Epigenes, 
 although he was young, was nevertheless in a had state 
 of body, he said—" How unHke to that of a profes- 
 sional athlete you keep your bodj^ Epigenes ! " And he 
 replied—" I am not a professional athlete, Socrates." 
 " You are no less so," urged Socrates, " than those 
 who are about to contend at the Olympic games.* Or 
 
 « These games, held in honour of Jupiter Olympius every fourth year, 
 were the most renowned of the Greek festivals. They were celebrated 
 on the plain of Olympia, now Anlilalo or AntilaUa, in Elis, a province 
 lying on the western side of the Peloponnesus, now the Morta. The 
 date^of their original institution is uncertain ; but they were revived 
 B c. 776, and ever after served as an epoch of Grecian chronology, every 
 forty-ninth month being the commencement of a new Olympiad. Those 
 who -aincd the prizes were considered to have attained the height of 
 human honour and happiness, and the states of which they were natives, 
 and the families to which they were related, were regarded with admira- 
 tion by the whole nation. Pindar, the great poet of the Greek games, 
 has given us some splendid odes upon this great gathering, as he has 
 also upon the three other principal festivals, viz , the Pythian, the 
 Nemean, and the Isthmian games. For a full description of them, 
 see Smith's •'Dictionary of Greek and Eoman Antiquities," sub vv. 
 "Ohjmpia," " A'<;mea,"""P!/rtia," " Jsthmia ;" and for an account of 
 Pindar and his works, the "'Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biograjt hy 
 and Mythology,' sub voce 'Tindarus."
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 167 
 
 do you regard tliat struggle for life witli the enemy 
 wliicli tlie Athenians will require of you when the 
 occasion arises as an insignificant one ? And yet, in 
 the dangers of war, there are not a few who lose their 
 lives from want of bodily strength, or preserve them by 
 dishonourable means. Many, again, from the same 
 cause, are taken alive, and are doomed as prisoners of 
 war, if they meet with such a fate, to the bitterest 
 slavery for the rest of their lives, or undergoing the 
 most dfeadful hardships, and sometimes paying for 
 their ransom more than they possess, they drag out 
 the remainder of their days in the want of common 
 necessaries and the endurance of misery of all kinds. 
 Many, too, acqixire an infamous name, being regarded 
 as cowards on account of the weakness of their 
 frames. Do you despise such penalties as attach to a 
 bad condition of the body, or do you think that you 
 can bear them without finding them a grievance % It 
 is certainly my opinion that what he has to endure 
 who trains his body so as to have it in sound condition, 
 is far easier and pleasanter to be borne than those in- 
 flictions to which I have referred. Or do you consider 
 an unsound condition of body to be generally more 
 healthful and profitable than a good coiidition ? Or 
 do you contemn the advantages which arise from good 
 bodily condition ? Yet the consequences of a good state 
 of body are different in every respect from those of a 
 bad state ; for those whose bodies are in a good state
 
 1 68 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 are healfhy and strong, and many, through this being 
 the case, preserve their lives honourably aanid the 
 straggles of war, and also escape all perils. Many, 
 too, succonr their friends and benefit their country, and 
 on this account are held worthy of gratitude, acquire 
 great glory, and attain the highest distinction. Hence 
 they both pass their own lives more pleasantly and 
 honourably, and also leave behind them a better pro- 
 vision for their children. Nor, because the state does not 
 insist upon public drilling for war, should we on that 
 account neglect to train ourselves privately, but should 
 do so no less carefully than if n-e acted under com- 
 pulsion. For be well assured that neither in any other 
 contest, nor ia any undertaking whatever, will you come 
 worse off for having your body better trained. The 
 body bears a part in every action of men's lives ; and in 
 every demand that may be made upon it, it is of great 
 advantage that it shou.ld be in the best possible con- 
 dition ; since even in that in which you would suppose 
 there was the least need for bodily exertion, viz., in the 
 power of thinking, who does not know that many fail 
 greatly in this respect on account of their bodies not being 
 in a healthy state ; and that forgetfulness, despondency, 
 irritability, and madness, arising from an ill condition 
 of the body, in very many cases attack the intellect so 
 violently as to overthrow the senses ? But those who 
 are in good bodily health are generally secure against 
 such mischiefs, and free from any danger of suffering
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 169 
 
 them, in so far, at all events, as they arise from any ill 
 condition of their bodies. But it is more probable that 
 a good condition of body will be serviceable in produc- 
 ing results diametrically opposite to those produced by 
 a bad condition ; and in order to enjoy sensations the 
 reverse of those which we have indicated, what is there 
 which any man in his right mind would not undergo ] 
 Moreover, it is disgraceful for a man to grow pre- 
 maturely old through seK-neglect, before proving to 
 himself what he might become if he were in the best 
 and strongest condition of body. And this he cannot 
 prove if he neglects himself ; since such results are not 
 usually arrived at without effort." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 On' one occasion, when a certain person was indignant 
 because, when he saluted some one else, the latter did not 
 return the compliment, Socrates exclaimed, "How absurd 
 is it that although, if you had met a man in a bad state 
 of bodily health, you would not have been angry — yet 
 you are annoyed because you have encountered one who 
 is somewhat clownishly disposed in mind ! " 
 
 And when some one else remarked that he did not
 
 170 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 ^ enjoy wliat lie ate, " Acnmenus," * said Socrates, "pre- 
 scribes an excellent remedy for tliat disease." And 
 being asked the nature of it, " To abstain from eat- 
 ing," rejoined Socrates ; " for be says tbat by abstinence 
 you will Hve more pleasantly, frugally, and bealtbfuUy." 
 Again, when another person complained tbat tbe 
 drinking-water at bis bouse was warm, " Wben you 
 want a^'warm batb, tben," said Socrates, ''it will be 
 ready for you." " But it is too cold to batbe in," 
 answered tbe other. " Do your servants, tben," asked 
 Socrates, "object to drinking and bathing in it]" 
 " No, by Jupiter," repUed he ; " and I have often 
 wondered to see how gladly they use it for both of these 
 purposes." "Pray, which is the warmer," asked So- 
 crates, " your drinking-water, or tbat at the temple of 
 ^sculapius r' t " That at the temple of ^sculapius," 
 answered be. " And which is tbe colder for batliing 
 in, yours or tbat at the temple of Amphiaraus ? " J 
 
 * A physician in practice in Athens, was a cotempcrary and friend of 
 Socrates He is mentioned by Plato in the "Phsedrus," and also by 
 Leo AUatius in his "£i)is<. Socratis et Socraticorum," 4to, Paris, 1637, 
 andOrellius. 
 
 t ^sculapius, the god of healing and the medical art, was worshipped 
 not only generally throughout Greece, but also in many other countries 
 of the ancient world. His temples, the most renowned of which was at 
 Epidaurus, were usually built outside the towns, in the most healthy 
 situations that could be selected, and near wells or fountains which 
 were believed to have healing properties —5ee Smith's "Viclionary of 
 
 Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology," sub voce •' Mscalapiusr 
 
 of "Antiquities" under '•Asclepieia," and of '' Geography " under 
 
 "Epidaurus.'' 
 X Amphiaraus, who was one of the two survivors after the war against 
 
 Xhebes^ and was fabled to have been swallowed up by the earth, and
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 171 
 
 " That at tlie temple of Ampluaraus," lie said. " Con- 
 sider, then," rejoined Socrates, " how near you are to 
 being more difficult to please than servants and sick 
 people." 
 
 And when some one was chastising an attendant V 
 severely, Socrates asked him why he was so angry with 
 his servant. " Because," replied the other, " he is very 
 gluttonous, very stupid, very covetous, and very lazy." 
 " And have you ever reflected, then, which deserves 
 the most stripes, you or your servant?" asked So- 
 crates. 
 
 Another man feeling nervous at having to travel to 
 Olympia, Socrates asked him, " Why do you dread the 
 joiirney % Do you not walk about at home almost the 
 whole day ? And if you go thither, you will walk and 
 dine, walk and sup, and then go to rest. Do you not 
 know that if you were to stretch out into one line the 
 walks which you take in five or six days, you would 
 soon get from Athens to Olympia ? And it is better 
 for you to start a day too soon than to procrastinate ; 
 for it is irksome to be obliged to lengthen your stages 
 beyond a moderate distance ; but to take shorter ones, 
 by spending one more day on the journey, is most con- 
 afterwards made immortal by Jupiter, was worshipped as a hero first at 
 Oropus, a town on the borders of Attica and Boeotia, near which a 
 magnificent temple was founded to him, and afterwards throughout 
 Greece. His oracle ranked among the five principal ones, and a full 
 account of it will be found in Smith s ^'Dictionary of Antiquities," siU> 
 voce " Oraculum."
 
 172 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 venient. Therefore, it is better to start early, tlian to 
 Le liurried on tlie road." 
 
 Another, saying that he was qnite prostrated by the 
 fatigue of a long journey, Socrates asked him whether 
 he had carried any burthen. " Not I, by Jupiter," 
 answered he, " except only my cloak." " And did 
 you travel alone," continued Socrates, "or had you 
 an attendant with you as well V "I had an attend- 
 ant," replied he. "Was he empty-handed," asked 
 Socrates, " or did he carry somethmg % " " He carried 
 our bed-clothes, by Jupiter, and the rest of our 
 utensils." "And how did he get over the journey?" 
 inquired Socrates. " ]\Iuch better than I did, I think," 
 replied the other. " But suppose yon had been com- 
 pelled to carry his load, how do you think you would 
 have fared then?" "Wretchedly, by Jupiter," ex- 
 claimed he ; " or rather, I should never have been able 
 to have carried it at all." " How, then, does it seem 
 becoming to you that a man who is trained to exercise, 
 should be less able to bear fatigue than a slave ? " 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 And on one occasion, when some people had met to sup 
 together, some of whom had brought very little meat
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 173 
 
 witli them, wliile others had furnished a large su2:)ply,* 
 Socrates ordered the slave either to place on the table 
 the small c[uantity for every one to j^artake of in com- 
 mon, or else to apportion to each one his share. Then 
 they who had contributed a great deal were ashamed 
 to partake pf that which was put on table for general 
 consumption, without having Avhat they had furnished 
 placed upon the table also. This, therefore, was likewise 
 added to the general stock; and so Avhen they were 
 helped to no more than those who had contributed only 
 a little, they discontinued purchasing provisions at a 
 great co§t. 
 
 And observing that a certain person at a supper took 
 no bread, but ate his meat entirely w'ithout it, a dis- 
 cussion having arisen about names with regard to the 
 reason why any particular epithet should be bestowed, 
 " Can we, gentlemen," asked Socrates, " tell Avhy a man 
 is called a ' meat-eater ? ' For all people eat meat with 
 their bread when they can get it ; but I do not imagine 
 that they are ever designated as ' meat-eaters ' on that 
 account." " I should not suppose they w^ere," said one 
 of the company. " But," resumed Socrates, " supposing 
 a man to eat his meat without bread, not because he 
 was in training, but simply because he preferred doing 
 
 * It was a common custom at Athens for several people to meet at 
 a sort of club-dinner or picnic, held for convivial or charitable pur- 
 poses, and for each guest to bring his own dish ; or else some one 
 individual provided for all upon the payment of a fixed sum per head. 
 — iSeeSnilh's "Dictionary of Antiquities," sub voce " £rani."
 
 174 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 so, would he seem to be a ' meat-eater ' or not ? " 
 " Scarcely any man could be more so," remarked the 
 other. And another of the guests asked, " And what 
 of him who eats a great deal of meat with a very little 
 bread?" "To me," rejDlied Socrates, "it appears that 
 he, too, deserves the name of a ' meat-eater,' and at a 
 time when others would pray to the gods for an 
 abundance of corn, he very likely would pray for a 
 plentiful supply of meat." And when Socrates had 
 thus spoken, the young man, thinking that his dis- 
 course was directed against him, did not indeed leave 
 off eating meat, but took some bread with it. Then 
 Socrates, seeing that he did so, said, " You that are 
 sitting near tliis youth, notice whether he takes bread 
 with his meat or meat with his bread," 
 
 At another time, noticing that one of the company 
 partook of a great variety of dishes with one small 
 morsel of bread, he said, " Can any cookery be more 
 extravagant, or more apt to spoil the food, than that 
 which he indulges in who partakes of several dishes at 
 the same meal, and impregnates his mouth with all 
 sorts of flavours at the same time ? As he mixes up 
 more ingredients than the cooks do, he makes what he 
 eats more expensive, and such things as they abstain 
 from mixing, on the ground that they are incongruous, 
 he, by mingling together, conmiits a blunder (if at least 
 they are right), and renders their skill of no avail. 
 And how can it be otherwise than absurd for a man
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 175 
 
 to provide tlie best and most exi^erienced cooks, and 
 then, although he claims for hiniself no knowledge of 
 their art, to spoil everything that has been prepared by 
 them % Besides this, there is another evil which arises 
 from a man's partaking of many dishes at the same 
 time, viz., that if there is not a great variety npon the 
 table, he thinks that he is stinted, and misses that to 
 which he has been accustomed. But he who uses him- 
 self to one dish, with one piece of bread, will be per- 
 fectly satisfied with that one when there are not a variety 
 placed before him." 
 
 He also remarked, that to "fare well" applied, in 
 the Athenian language, to " eating," and that the "well" 
 was added to indicate such food as neither disagreed 
 with the mind or the body. Hence he said that those 
 " fared well " who lived temperately.
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OCRATES was also so serviceable in every 
 transaction and for every kind of business, 
 that even to any one who has hut a limited 
 understanding, it must he evident that nothing could 
 be more conducive to a man's interest than to have been 
 intimate with him, and to have spent one's time with him 
 upon every opportmiity. For even the recollection of 
 him, now that he has passed away from us,* is no small 
 advantage to those who were accustomed to associate 
 with him and to listen to him; for he benefited his inti- 
 mates no less when he was jesting than when he was in 
 earnest. For he would, perhaps, often say that he 
 
 * The death of Socrates took place B.C. 399. The Memorabilia were 
 written probably about b.c. 390.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. r;; 
 
 loved some one, yet it was evident that lie did not do 
 so on account of the beauty of their persons, but of their 
 minds, being enamoured of those who were by nature 
 well disposed toward virtue. And he judged of the 
 goodness of people's abilities from their quickness iu 
 mastering any subject to which they might apply them- 
 selves, and recollecting what they had learned, and 
 being anxious to acquire all such branches of know- 
 ledge as are available for the well ordering of a house- 
 hold or a state, or to the general good management of 
 men and of human affairs ; for he said that such, when 
 they had been duly educated, would not only be happy 
 themselves and good managers of their own households, 
 but that they Avould make other men and other states 
 happy. He did not, hoAvever, approacli every one in 
 the same way ; but to those who rated their natural 
 abilities so highly as to despise instruction, he taught that 
 those abilities which Avere aj)parently the best the most 
 needed instruction ; pointing out to them that of horses, 
 those of the purest breed, being the most spirited and 
 restive, if they are broken in when young, become the 
 most useful and valuable, but if they are not broken in, 
 remain the most unmanageable and worthless ; and of 
 the best-bred dogs, which are both hard-working and 
 fond of attacking wild animals, that those which are 
 highly trained prove the keenest and most serviceable ia 
 the chase, whereas, if they are untrained, they are use- 
 less, wild, and refractory. In like manner A\ith re-
 
 1 78 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 gard to men who possessed the best natural abilities 
 and the greatest strength of mind, and who were the 
 most energetic in everything that they undertook, that 
 those who were best educated and instructed in their 
 duties became the most valuable and useful, for they 
 accomplished the most numerous and important good 
 deeds ; whereas, if they were uneducated and re- 
 mained without instruction, they became the vilest 
 and most mischievous characters ; for, from not under- 
 standing how to discern theix duties, they frequently 
 embarked in evil enterprises, and being arrogant and ob- 
 stinate, were difficult to be restrained or diverted from 
 their purpose. Hence they worked the most numerous 
 and the most irreparable mischiefs. 
 
 And those who prided themselves upon their riches, 
 and fancied that they had no need of instruction, under 
 the impression that their wealth was sufiicient for them 
 to carry out all their designs and procure them universal 
 homage, he brought to their senses by saying, that he 
 would be a fool indeed who should suppose that he 
 could distinguish between what was good and what was 
 evil without instruction ; and that any one was an idiot 
 who, though he could not make such a distinction, yet 
 imagined that by means of his wealth he could procure 
 every object of his wishes, and accomplish all that was 
 most advantageous for him. He said, too, that a man 
 must be void of sense who, not being able to accomplish 
 that which was advantageous to him, should suppose
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. . I'jc) 
 
 that he could be iirosperous, and that every condition 
 of his life was either well or sufficiently provided for ; 
 and that he was equally void of sense who, being with- 
 out any understanding, yet thought that, on account of 
 his wealth, he would pass as being good for something; 
 or that, being evidently good for nothing, he would 
 nevertheless enjoy a good reputation. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I WILL now relate how he bore himself towards those 
 who thought that they had attained to the very highest 
 ^ ptch of instruction, and prided themselves upon their 
 acquirements. Hearing, for instance, that Euthydemus, 
 surnamed the "handsome," had made a large collection of 
 the writings of the most renowned poets and sophists, and 
 fancied that by their means he was already superior to 
 his contemporaries in wisdom, and entertained great 
 hopes of surpassing them all in his ability both as a 
 speaker and a man of action ; first having ascertained 
 that he had not yet engaged in any public business* on 
 account of his youth, but that if he wished to transact 
 
 * Literally "entered into the agora," or market-place (in Rome, the 
 forum), where all public business was transacted, the legal age for 
 engaging in which was twenty.
 
 I So MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 any, he stationed Hmself at a certain saddler's shop of 
 those that were near the market-place, Socrates also went 
 thither himself, taking with him certain companions. 
 And upon some one's inquiring whether it was from 
 a'^sociation with some one of the wise men, or from his 
 own natural capacity, that Themistocles so far excelled 
 his fellow-citizens that the whole state looked to him 
 whenever it stood in need of a distinguished man, So- 
 crates, wishing to draw out Euthydemus, said that it 
 was ahsiird, forsooth, to imagine that men could not 
 become distinguished in arts, that were but of small 
 account "vvithout competent instructors, but that the 
 ability to preside over the state, which was a task of the 
 greatest difficulty of any, accrued to men spontaneously. 
 • And when Euthydemus was present on another occa- 
 sion, seeing him about to leave the company, as if he 
 wished to be on his guard against seeming to admire So- 
 crates on account of his wisdom, the latter remarked : — 
 "When, my friends, our Euthydemus here arrives at the 
 proper age, and any state question is proposed for discus- 
 sion, it is very evident, from the nature of his studies, 
 that he will not hold himself aloof from its councils, and 
 I fancy that he has already prepared a splendid proem 
 for his public orations, taking precautions against being 
 supposed to have learned anything from anybody. It 
 is clear, then, that when he commences his harangue, 
 his exordium will be something in this style: — ' men 
 of Athens ! never at any time have I learnt anything from
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. i8i 
 
 anybody, nor, if I have Leen informed that there were 
 certain individuals who were clever Loth in speech and 
 action, have I ever sought their company, nor have I 
 been careful that any of the knowing ones should be- 
 come my teacher. Nay, I have even pursued the 
 opposite course, for I constantly avoided not only 
 learning anything from anybody, but even the appear- 
 ance of so doing. Nevertheless, such opinions as 
 suggest themselves to me spontaneously, I will submit 
 to you for your consideration.' So, on the part of 
 those who were seeking to obtain a government medical 
 appointment, it might answer for them to begin a 
 speech thus : — ' I, men of Athens ! have never at any 
 time learned the medical art from any one, nor have I 
 been desirous to obtain any medical man as my teacher, 
 for I have constantly avoided not only learning any- 
 thing from the medical men, but even the appearance 
 of having studied this science. Nevertheless, confer 
 upon me this appointment, for I will endeavour to 
 educate myself by experimentalising upon you.' " Then 
 all the company laughed at this specimen of an exordium. 
 And since it was now evident that Euthydemus was 
 paying attention to Socrates' remarks, but yet was him- 
 self guarding against making any observations, under 
 the impression that by his silence he would become 
 invested with a reputation for modesty, Socrates, 
 Avishing to check any such notion, said — " Surely it is 
 strange to conceive for what reason those who wish to
 
 i82 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 play tlie lyre or the flute, or to ride, or to become pro- 
 ficients in any similar accomplisliments, slionld en- 
 deavour to practise as unremittingly as possible tbose 
 arts in wliicli tbey desire to excel, and this not only by 
 themselves, but by the aid of those who are held to be 
 masters in them, doing and imdergoing everything for 
 the sake of never acting without their sanction, as being 
 convinced that they cannot under any other conditions 
 attain celebrity ; while of those who desire to become 
 eminent orators or politicians, there are some who fancy 
 that they will become spontaneously, and on the spur 
 of the moment, capable of accomplishing their object. 
 And yet, by how much these latter are more diflficult to 
 master than the former, appears plainly from the fact 
 that although a far greater number of people are 
 eu'-'-ao-ed in them, a much smaller proportion succeed. 
 It is evident, therefore, that those who aim at the one 
 require more extensive and decided training than those 
 who seek the other." 
 
 So then, at first, Socrates would only make such re- 
 marks as these, while Euthydemus heard him as if by 
 chance. But when he noticed that the latter stayed more 
 willingly while he was discoursing, and that he listened 
 more attentively, he at last went by himself to the 
 saddler's shop, and as Euthydemus approached and 
 sat down beside him, he said, " Tell me, Euthydemus, 
 have you really, as I hear you have, made a vast col- 
 lection of the writings of those men who are reported
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CI? A TES. i S3 
 
 to have been wise 1 " " Yes, by Jupiter, I have," re- 
 plied the other ; " and I am still collecting, tiutil I 
 shall have become possessed of as many as I can 
 possibly procure." " Then, by Juno," rejoined Socrates, 
 "I admire you, in that you have not preferred the 
 acquisition of the treasures of gold and silver to that 
 of wisdom ; for you manifestly hold that silver and 
 gold are unable to make men better, but that the 
 sentiments of the wise enrich their possessors with 
 virtue." And Euthydemus was pleased at hearing 
 these remarks, as thinking that he appeared to Socrates 
 to be seeking after wisdom according to right prin- 
 ciples. But Socrates, perceiving that he was grati- 
 fied with his commendation, asked — "And in what 
 particular branch is it that you wish to excel, that you 
 collect these writings ? " And ^vhen Euthydemus was 
 silent, considering what answer lie should give, Socrates 
 again asked — " Is it as a physiciiin, for there is a vast 
 collection of the writings of physicians 1 " " Not I, by 
 Jupiter," replied Euthydemus. " Do you wish, then, 
 to become an architect, for a man of sense is needed 
 for that profession also i " " Not I, indeed," answered 
 the other. " Would you desire to be a good geome- 
 trician, then, like Theodoras ? " * " Nor a geometrician 
 
 * Theodoras of Cyrene was a Pythagorean philosopher contemporary 
 with Pericles (circa b.c. 470-430); and it is stated by some writers that 
 Plato went to Cyrene for the express purpose of attending his mathe- 
 matical lectures.— &e .S'hkV/i's "Dictionary of Greek and Roman Bio- 
 graphy and MythJogy," sub voce " Theodoras 0/ Cyrene."
 
 1 84 MEMOIRS OF SO OR A TES. 
 
 either," rejoined Eutliydemus. "Would you be an 
 astronomer, then % " asked Socrates. And when the 
 ktter said "No," "A rhapsodist,* then?" suggested 
 Socrates ; " for it is reported that you possess the 
 whole of Homer's poems." " Kot I, indeed," exclaimed 
 Euthydemus ; " for I know that the rhapsodists, al- 
 though they are most accurately acquainted with all 
 the Homeric poems, yet in other things are, as men, 
 excessively foolish." Then Socrates said, " Perhaps, 
 then, Euthydemus, you aim at acquiring that sort of 
 faculty by which men become good politicians and 
 economists, capable of governing, and useful equally to 
 others as well as to themselves ? " "I ardently desire, 
 Socrates," answered the other, " to become possessed of 
 that faculty." " Then, by Jupiter," rejoined Socrates, 
 " you aim at the noblest faculty, and at the most ex- 
 alted science ; for this is the very art peculiar to kings, 
 and is designated the ' royal art.' But," he continued, 
 " have you ever considered whether it was possible for 
 an unjust man to excel in it ? " " Certainly I have," 
 
 * The rTiapsodists were so called from pawTco wSt] (rhapio od'), to 
 "sew or piece together," because they went about reciting passages 
 taken from the Epic poets. Some of them, It is said, cultivated their 
 memories to such an extent that they could repeat whole books of 
 Homer. Hence Socrates asks Euthydemus whether it was with a view 
 of learning them by heart that he had made such a large collection 
 of them. The most popular of these rliapsodists were Hippias, 
 Stesimbrotus of Thasos, and Metrodorus of Lampsacus. — See ".4 
 Critical History of the Language and Literature of Ancient Greece," 
 iy William Mure, of Caldwell (8vo, London, 185.3), vol. iv. p 95, a7id 
 LiddcU and Scott's Greelc Lexicon, sub voce, pa<fu)S6s.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 1S5 
 
 replied Eutliydemus ; " and a man cannot be even a 
 good citizen -without a sense of justice." " Well, 
 then," said Socrates, "have you acquii-ed this?" "I 
 think, Socrates," answered Eutliydemus, " that I should 
 appear no less a just man than any other." "Are 
 there, then, works of just men as there are of artisans 1" 
 " Decidedly there are," replied tlie other. " As, then, 
 artisans are able to point to their works, so the just 
 would be able to detail theirs." " Why should I not 
 be able," asked Euthydemus, " to detail the works of 
 justice ? and, by Juj)iter, as I think, those of injustice 
 too % for we may see and hear of no small nimiber of 
 such things every day." " Shall we, then," suggested 
 Socrates, " write on one side a D, and on the other an 
 A, and under the D place whatever seems to us to 
 be a work of justice, and under the A whatever ap- 
 pears to be one of injustice %"* " If you think that we 
 reqmre these letters, make them." Then Socrates, 
 having written the letters as he had proposed, said, 
 " Is there such a thing existing among mankind as 
 falsehood ? " " Of course there is," answered Euthy- 
 demus. " Under which head, then," asked Socrates, 
 " shall we range this ? " " Evidently," said Euthy- 
 demus, " under that of injustice." " And again," asked 
 Socrates, " is there such a thing as deceit ? " " Un- 
 questionably," replied the other. " And under which 
 
 * A (D). being' the initial letter of SiKatos (dUcaios), "just,'' and 
 A that of aOLKos (adikos), "unjust."
 
 iS6 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 head shall we place this?" "No doubt, also under 
 that of injustice," answered Euthydemus. " And what 
 about villany?" "That is injustice too." "And 
 slavery 1" "Again under injustice." "Shall we 
 then, Euthydemus, place none of these under the 
 head of justice ? " " It would be a wonderful thing," 
 replied Euthydemus, " if we did that." " How so ? " 
 asked Socrates. " Supposing, for instance, that any 
 general had captured an aggressive and hostile state, 
 and reduced its inhabitants to slavery, should we say 
 that he had committed an act of injustice % " " Cer- 
 tainly not," replied Euthydemus. " Nay, should we 
 not rather say that he had acted justly?" "Un- 
 doubtedly." " And what if, while he was at war with 
 his enemies, he should deceive them V " That, too," 
 said Euthydemus, " would be just." " And if he should 
 abstract and carry off their property, would he not be 
 acting justly 1 " " Assuredly he would," said Euthy- 
 demus ; " but I supposed at first that you were only 
 putting your questions in reference to our conduct 
 towards our friends." " Must we not, then," continued 
 Socrates, "place also under the head of justice all 
 those things which we have placed under that of in- 
 justice?" "So it seems," replied the other. "Are 
 you willing, then, that, after having so placed them, 
 we should make a new distinction, and say that it is 
 just to act thus towards our enemies, but unjust with 
 regard to our friends, and that towards the latter we
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 187 
 
 should conduct ourselves as guilelesslj' as possible ? " "I 
 consent to such a distinction," said Euthydemus. 
 "Well, then," asked Socrates, "supposing any general, 
 seeing his troops dispirited, should falsely tell them 
 that auxiliaries were at hand, and by this falsehood 
 should j)ut an end to their despondency, under which 
 head are we to place such an act of deceit ? " " In my 
 opinion," said Euthydemus, "under that of justice." 
 " And if any parent whose son rec[uired medical treat- 
 ment, but w^ould not take medicine, should deceive him 
 by giving him his medicine as food, and by this piece 
 of deception should restore him to healtli, on which 
 side again are we to j)lace such an act of deceit as 
 this % " " As it appears to me," said Euthydemus, 
 " ujDon the same side." " Well, then, suj^posing a man 
 for fear lest his friend, who was in a state of despon- 
 dency, should commit suicide, were to steal or con- 
 vey away Ms sword, or any other weapon of a similar 
 kind, on which side must this be placed ? " " And this 
 too, by Jupiter," exclaimed Euthydemus, " must go 
 under the head of justice." " You admit, then, that 
 not even towards our friends does it behove us invari- 
 ^ ably to act without guile ? " " No, by Jupiter, it does 
 not," said Euthydemus ; " and I retract what I have 
 advanced, if you will allow me to do so." " It is much 
 better for me to allow this," said Socrates, " than that 
 you should be permitted to place actions under their 
 wrong heads. But again, of those who deceive their
 
 1 88 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 friends to tlieir injury (so that we may not even omit 
 this point of view from onr examination), which of the 
 two men is the more unjust, lie who does so "v^ittingly, 
 or he who does it inadvertently 1 " " Truly, Socrates, 
 I myself have no longer any faith in my own answers, 
 for everything appears to me now to be totally different 
 to what I lately thought it was. Nevertheless, I should 
 say that he who deceives one wittingly is a more unjust 
 man than he who does so inadvertently." "Does it 
 appear to you, then, that there is a method of learning 
 and understanding what is just, as there is of acquiring 
 a knowledge of reading and writing ? " " It does so," 
 replied Euthydemus. " And whether of the two should 
 you consider the better grammarian — him who should 
 purposely write or read incorrectly, or him who should 
 do so involuntarily % " " Certainly him who should do 
 so purposely ; for whenever he pleased he could do both 
 correctly." " He, therefore, that of set purpose writes 
 or reads incorrectly may be a good grammarian, while 
 he that does so involuntarily is not a grammarian at 
 all?" "How can it be otherwise?" "And whether 
 does he who lies and deceives wittingly know what is 
 just, or he who does so inadvertently % " " Manifestly 
 he who does so wittingly." " You assert, then, that a 
 man who understands reading and writing is a better 
 grammarian than one who does not understand them ?" 
 " I do." " And that he is a more just man who under- 
 stands justice, than he who does not % " " So it appears.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 189 
 
 But I really seem to myself to be making these admis- 
 sions I don't know how." " And what, pray, of a man 
 who, although he washed to tell the truth, never gave 
 the same account of the same thing ; but, when speaking 
 of the same road, should say at one time that it led to 
 the east, and at another time towards the west ; or when 
 stating the result of a sum, should put it sometimes at 
 a higlier and sometimes at a lower total ; what would 
 you think of such an one % " " That he was evidently 
 a man, by Jupiter, who knew nothing of those things 
 that he thought he knew." " Do you know any per- 
 sons who are termed 'slave-like?'" "I do." "Are 
 they so called on account of their wisdom or their 
 ignorance ? " " Evidently on account of their ignor- 
 ance." " Is it, then, on account of their ignorance of 
 the art of brassfounding that they obtain this sohri- 
 guet .? " " Certainly not." " Is it, then, because they 
 are ignorant of architecture ? " " No, nor yet ou that 
 account." " Is it, then, because they do not understand 
 shoemakingi" "Not for any one of these causes," 
 replied Euthydemus ; "but rather the reverse; for 
 most of those at least who understand such handicrafts 
 are slave-like." " Is this, then, .an epithet applied to 
 those who do not know what is honourable and good 
 and just ? " " So it appears to me," said the other. 
 " Should we not therefore endeavour as strenuously as 
 possible to avoid being slave-like ? " " But, by the 
 gods, Socrates," exclaimed Euthydemus, "I fully be-
 
 I90 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 lieved that I was pursuing a wise and pliilosopliical 
 course of study, by whicli I expected to be instructed 
 more efficiently than by any other in all the duties that 
 attach to a man who is earnestly striving after honour 
 andratue; but now you may imagine how disheartened 
 I feel when I recognise the fact that, notwithstanding 
 all my previous pains, I am not even able to answer 
 the questions put to me upon subjects which I ought to 
 understand better than any other, and have no path to 
 pursue by taking which I may improve my character." 
 Then said Socrates--" Tell me, Euthydemus, have 
 you ever chanced to go to Delphi 1 " " Yes, that I have, 
 by Jupiter — twice," answered Euthydemus. " And did 
 you notice the inscription, ' Know Thyself ' * some- 
 where on the temple walls ? " "I did." " And did you 
 give no heed to the legend, or did you. attend to it, 
 and endeavour to examine yourself as to what sort of a 
 character you may be 1 " " Ko, by Jupiter," returned 
 Euthydemus, " I did not do that, for I thought that I 
 knew this at least perfectly well already, since I should 
 scarcely know anytliing else if I did not know myself." 
 " And do you think, then, that he knows himself who 
 knows merely his own name, or he who, as people 
 when they are buying horses, do not consider that they 
 have ascertained what they wish to ascertain before 
 
 * The saying attributed to Solon, as one of the "seven wise men of 
 Greece," the others being Chilo, Pittacus, Bias, Periander, Cleobulus, 
 and Thales.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 191 
 
 they have proved whether the animal is tractahle or 
 obstinate, powerful or weak, swift or slov/, and how it 
 is with regard to other points Avhich are of advantage 
 or disadvantage to one who wants a horse— so he, hav- 
 ing examined himself with regard to the power he has 
 of being serviceable toAvards the needs of his fellow- 
 men, arrives at a knowledge of his own capabilities ? " 
 "In this case," rejoined Euthydemus, "it certainly 
 appears to me that he who does not know his own 
 capabilities does not know himself." " But is not this 
 evident," said Socrates, " that by knowing themselves 
 men secure a vast number of blessings ; whereas by 
 self-deception they incur an enormous amount of 
 misery ? For, in truth, those who know themselves, 
 know what is adapted to them, and distinguish be- 
 tween what they can and what they cannot effect ; and, 
 by acting in. accordance with their powers, they both 
 provide sucli things as are needful for them, and fare 
 prosperously ; and, abstaining from undertakings that 
 they do not understand, they live imblamed, and escape 
 adversity. Hence, also, they are enabled to form an 
 estimate of others, and from their intercourse with their 
 fellow-men, they both provide for themselves what is 
 beneficial, and secure themselves against misfortunes. 
 Whereas, those who do not know themselves, but are 
 deceived as to tlieir own capabilities, are in the same 
 position both with regard to other men and other 
 human afliiirs ; for they neither comprehend what they
 
 192 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 want, nor Vv-hat they do, nor the characters of those with 
 whom they mix, but, running into error upon all these 
 particulars, they both fail in obtaining what is good, 
 and fall into calamities. But they, on the other hand, 
 who comprehend what they are doing, succeed in their 
 undertakings, and become esteemed and honoured. 
 Tliose who resemble them associate gladly with them, and 
 those who go wrong in their affairs seek their adWce 
 respecting them, and covet their protection, and place 
 their hopes of good in them ; and on all these accounts 
 they love them better than they do any other men. Those, 
 on the other hand, who have not a clear conception of 
 what they are doing, but who make an unhappy choice 
 in life, and miscarry in their various entei-prises, not 
 only suffer pains and penalties personally, but become, 
 on this very account, objects of contempt and ridicule, 
 and lead despised and dishonoured lives. So also in the 
 case of states : you see that of such as, from ignorance 
 of their own strength, go to war with those who are 
 more powerful, some are altogether xiprooted, while 
 others are reduced from freedom to slaviry." 
 
 Then said Euthydemus — " Be well assured, Socrates, 
 that on all these grounds I feel convinced that self- 
 knowledge must be regarded as a quality of the highest 
 importance, but from what source we must seek first to 
 derive it is a matter which I look to you to explain, if 
 you will kindly consent to do so." " Well, then," said 
 Socrates, " j-ou have, I suppose, a perfect knowledge of
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 193 
 
 the difference bet-ween tilings good and evil ?" " Yes, 
 by Jupiter," replied Eutliydemus, " for otherwise I 
 should be inferior to the slaves." " Come, then," said 
 Socrates, " enumerate some of them to me." " That, 
 at any rate, is not difficult," answered the other ; " for, 
 to begin with, I consider the very fact of one's being in 
 sound health a good, and being out of health an evil. 
 Next, of the things which produce these effects, as 
 drink, food, occupations, such as conduce to health I 
 hold to be good, but those wdiich engender disease as 
 evil." " Therefore," remarked Socrates, " both health 
 and disease, when they are the causes of good, would be 
 good, but when they are the causes of evil, they would 
 be evil." " But whenever," asked Euthydemus, " can 
 health be the cause of evil, or disease of good?" 
 "When, by Jupiter," answered Socrates, "men wdio, 
 on account of the exuberance of their strength, have 
 taken part in some unsuccessful military expedition by 
 land or damaging voyage by sea, or any similar enter- 
 prise, and have perished, while those who on account 
 of their weak health have been left at home have been 
 saved." " You speak truly," said Euthydemus ; " but 
 you also see that, in the case of successful enterprises, 
 such as are endowed with strength share them, while 
 those who are in ill-health are left out of them." " Are 
 such things, then, as are at one time advantageoixs and 
 at another injurious to be considered rather as blessings 
 or as evils % " " One can predicate nothing definite con- 
 
 N
 
 194 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 cerning them, by Jupiter, wlien they are viewed in this 
 light. But wisdom, Socrates, is indisputably a good 
 thing ; for what business will not a man transact better 
 for being wise than for being ignorant ? " " What, 
 then ? " asked Socrates, " have you never heard of 
 Dsedalus,* how that after he had been seized by Minos, 
 he was eompelled for his wisdom to serve him as a 
 elave, and was deprived both of his country and his 
 liberty ; and how, when he was attempting to make his 
 escape with his son, he lost the boy, and was unable to 
 save himself, but was carried away among the bar- 
 barians, and a second time reduced to a servile condi- 
 tion among them 1 " "I know, by Jupiter, that there 
 is such a legend." " And have you never heard of the 
 woes of Palamedes % \ For in truth, it is the general 
 
 * Dsedalus is said to have instructed his sister's son, Perdix, in 
 sculpture, and to have killed him out of envy for his great proficiency 
 in the art. For this he was condemned to death by the court of the 
 Areopagus at Athens, and fled to Crete, where he was imprisoned by 
 Minos, the king of the island, on account of some offence he had given 
 him. Dffidalus, however, escaped safely to Sicily by means of wooden 
 wings, which he had fixed on with wax ; but his son Icarus, to whom 
 he had also given a pair, melted his wax by flying too near to the sun, 
 and was drowned in the ^gean Sea. — See. Smith's "Dictionary of Greek 
 and Roman Biography and Mythology," sub voce " Dcedalus." 
 
 t Some writers say that Palamedes was killed by Ulysses, because he 
 compelled the latter to join in the expedition to Troy against his will. 
 According to others, he was put to death by Agamemnon, Diomede, and 
 Ulysses, who were jealous of his fame as a warrior, and had a forged 
 letter, purporting to come from Priam, the king of Troy, concealed in 
 his bed ; and so caused him to be executed for treachery. While 
 Xenophon adopts the version given in the text. There are also various 
 stories of the manner of his death. — See Smith's "Dictionary of Greek 
 and Soman Biography and Mythology," sub voce "Palamedes."
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 195 
 
 song concerning liim, that it was on account of Lis wis- 
 dom tliat he was envied and put to death by Ulysses." 
 " Tliis story is also told," said Euthydemus. " And 
 how many others do you think have been carried oil' to 
 the king's* territories on account of their wisdom, and 
 been there compelled to serve as slaves ? " 
 
 " But happiness, Socrates," said he, " seems to be an 
 undoubted good." " Yes, Euthydemus," observed So- 
 crates, " unless one compounds it of doubtfully good 
 materials." " But what, of such things as go to make 
 up happiness, can be a doubtful good ] " asked the other. 
 " Nothing," replied Socrates, "unless we join to it 
 beauty, or strength, or wealth, or glory, or anything of 
 this "sort." " But, by Jujjiter," exclaimed Euthydemus, 
 " we must join to it something of the kiiid, for how 
 could any one be happy without themi" "Well, 
 then, by Jupiter," said Socrates, " we shall join to it 
 one of those accidents which are the cause of divers 
 troubles to mankind ; for many are ruined through their 
 beauty by those who are madly in love with their bud- 
 ding charms, while many, through an excessive estimate 
 of their strength, undertaking enterprises which are 
 beyond their powers, involve themselves in no small 
 calamities. Many, again, who have become enervated 
 through and plotted against for their wealth, have 
 perished ; while many, on account of their prominent 
 
 * The Kins of Persia, who was so styled by tlie Greeks. He was also 
 Bometimes called the "Great King."
 
 196 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 position and political power, have siifiered great misfor- 
 tunes." " WeU, then," said Eutliydemus, " if, forsooth, 
 I do not talk correctly even when I commend happi- 
 ness, I confess that I know not what men ought to ask 
 of the gods." " But," continued Socrates, " it may be 
 that you have not deeply considered these matters, 
 from the belief that you were already sufficiently well 
 ac(iuainted with them ; but since you are preparing 
 yourseK to be prime minister of a democratic state, no 
 doubt you know, at any rate, what a democracy is ? " 
 " I certainly suppose I do," said Euthydemus. " Does 
 it, then, appear to you possible that one who does not 
 know what the de,mos is should know what a democracy 
 is?" "No, by Jupiter, it does not," answered the 
 other, " And what, then, do you consider the demos* to 
 be 1 " "I consider it to be the poorer classes of the citi- 
 zens." "Do you, then, know which are the poor?" 
 " Why should I not know % " " You also know, then, 
 
 * Euthydemus here refers to the Stj^os, or "people," according to 
 their plutocratic power, and not according to the signification which 
 the word generally bore at this period, which was that of the plebs, or 
 common people, as contradistinguished in their political views from 
 those who were above them by birth as well as by their moneyed posi- 
 tion The demi were originally subdivisions of the ten tribes of Attica 
 into certain districts, each having a town or village as its chief centre. 
 By the constitution of Cleisthenes all the members of the community 
 who registered themselves in these towns orvill.-.ges bad political riglits 
 conferred upon them, and aliens, and even slaves, it is said, were en- 
 franchised by him, so that the demos came to signify ultimately the 
 "commonalty," as opposed to the higher classes of the people.— i'ee 
 IhirlwalVs "History of Greece," vol. ii. pp. 72 76.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 197 
 
 wliicli are the ricli ?" " Just tlie same as I know which 
 are the poor." " And what sort of people do you 
 define as being rich, and what kind as poor ] " ^*' Those 
 who have not enough wherewith to purchase the 
 necessaries of life I call poor, and those who have 
 more than enough, rich." " Have you rgmarked, then, 
 that to some who have excessively sutall means, the 
 little they have is not only adequate for their support, 
 but leaves them a surplus, while to others even a very 
 large fortune is not sufficient ? " " Yes, by Jupiter," re- 
 plied Euthydemus ; " and you are quite right to pxit me 
 in mind of it ; for I have even heard of princes who have 
 been so straitened by their necessities that they have 
 been forced to commit acts of injustice, like the poorest 
 people." " If this be so, then," said Socrates, " we 
 must rank these princes among the demos, and those 
 whose property is but small, if they are good managers, 
 among the rich ? " /And Euthydemus replied, " It is 
 evident that my OAVit-want of skill compels me to admit 
 this also ; and I am considering whether it is not best 
 for me to be silent altogether, for I seem to know 
 absolutely nothing."\ 
 
 He therefore departed in a most dejected frame of 
 mind, esteeming himself very lightly, and regarding 
 himself as being in very truth no better than a 
 slave. 
 
 So, then, of those who were handled in the same way 
 by Socrates, many came to him no more, whom also he
 
 igS MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 considered as his i^iore stolid kind of disciples. But 
 Euthydemus conceived that he could adopt no other 
 naeans of becoming a man of note than by associating 
 Avith Socrates as much as possible, and he consequently 
 never left him unless on some business of the most 
 urgent necessity, and he even imitated some of liis 
 ordinary habits. 
 
 So Socrates, finding him thus disposed, no longer 
 puzzled him, but explained to him, in the most simple 
 and lucid manner he could adopt, what he conceived 
 it to be most to his interest to know, and what was his 
 best method of preparation. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Socrates was never urgent that his followers should 
 become skilled orators, or men of business, or mecha- 
 nicians, but preferred that, previously to their acquir- 
 ing these accomplishments, sober-mindedness should be 
 engendered in them ; for he judged that without 
 sobriety of miiid, those who were possessed of such 
 capabilities were only the better qualified to commit 
 acts of injustice and mischief. 
 
 In the first place, therefore, he endeavoured to make 
 his disciples sober-minded with regard to the gods.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 199 
 
 Thus sundry individuals, wlio were among his audience 
 when he conversed with A^arious persons upon this 
 topic, have narrated his discourses ; and I was myseK 
 present when he lield a dialogue with Euthydemus 
 somewhat after this fashion : — " Tell me, Euthy- 
 demus," said he, " has it ever occurred to you to con- 
 sider how carefully the gods have provided for all the 
 requirements of men % " And Euthydemus replied, 
 " No, hy Jupiter, it has not." " But you know, at 
 least," continued Socrates, " that, first of all, we need 
 light ; and that the gods give to us 1 " " Yes, hy 
 Jupiter," rejoined Euthydemus; "for if we had no 
 light, we should, as far as the use of our eyes goes, be 
 in the position of the blind." " But, moreover, as we 
 stand in need of rest, they afford us night as a most 
 welcome season for repose." "And this is a boon," 
 exclaimed the other, " that is indeed worthy of our 
 gratitude." "And forasmuch as the sun, being 
 luminous, reveals to us the hours of the day, and all 
 other objects, while the night, on account of its dark- 
 ness, renders them less distinct, have they not caused 
 the stars to shine forth at night, to show us the time of 
 night, and enable us to perform many necessary tasks V 
 "Such is the case," said Euthydemus. "And again, 
 the moon indicates to us not only the divisions of the 
 night, but of the month." " It certainly does so," said 
 the other. " And what of the fact that the gods, see- 
 ing that we ret|uire noiu-ishment, h-we raised it for
 
 200 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 us out of the eartli, and have appointed seasons 
 suitable for its growth, which supply us in great 
 abundance and variety not only with such things as 
 are needful for us, but with those which contribute to 
 our enjoyment]" "All these gifts," replied Euthy- 
 denius, " also indicate their love for men." " And that 
 they give us water, which is so valuable on account of 
 its both generating and bringing to maturity, in conjunc- 
 tion with the earth and the seasons, all those products 
 which are useful to us, and which aids in nourishing 
 our individual selves also, and by being mixed with all 
 our sustenance, renders it easier of digestion, and more 
 healthful and pleasant ; and that since we want such 
 quantities of it, that they should supply it to us with- 
 out stint ? " " TMs also," rejoined Euthydemus, 
 " argues great foresight for i;s." " And that they 
 shoi-Qd give us fire as a protection against cold and 
 darkness, and as an auxiliary in every art and every 
 necessary occupation in which men engage % Eor, to 
 speak concisely, there is notliiiig which is of any real 
 importance towards supplying the needs of man's life 
 that is p)repared without the aid of fire," "This 
 again," said Euthydemus, " indicates excessive affection 
 for mankind." " And that they diffuse round us the 
 air so liberally, that it not only protects and fosters our 
 lives, but enables us to traverse the seas by means of 
 it, and to procure various necessaries by voyaging 
 hitlier and thither in different quarters of the globe,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 201 
 
 hoAV is not this a benefit beyond all calculation 1 " " It 
 is not to be expressed," said Euthydemus. " That the 
 sun, too, when he inclines towards tis in the ■svinter, 
 should approach the earth so as to bring some things 
 to maturity, and to cause others to wither when the 
 season of their prime has passed away ? And that 
 when he has accomplished this task, he should come no 
 nearer, but turn back again, for fear lest he should 
 injure us by giving us more heat than Ave require ; and 
 that when, moreover, in his departure, he reaches the 
 point at which it is manifest that if he retired any 
 farther we should perish with cold, he should again 
 turn back and approach us, and revolve in that orbil 
 of the heavens in which he is of the greatest service tc 
 us \ " " By Jupiter," remarked Euthydemus, " these 
 laws do indeed appear as if they had been established 
 for the sole benefit of man." " And once more (since 
 it is plain that we could not endure either heat or cold 
 if it came upon us all of a sudden), that the sun should 
 approach us so graduallj^, and retire from us so gently, 
 that we arrive at extreme heat and extreme cold by 
 degrees which are to us imperceptible ? " "I am in- 
 deed considering," rejoined Euthydemus, "whether the 
 gods employ themselves in any other way than ad- 
 ministering to men's wants ; only one thought alone 
 hinders my coming to this conclusion, viz., that the 
 other animals also participate in these benefits." " But 
 is it not also evident,'' asked Socrates, " that these
 
 202 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 animals exist and are nurtured for man's sake 1 For 
 ■what other living creature derives so many advantages 
 from goats, and sheep, and horses, and oxen, and asses, 
 and the various other kinds of beasts, as man does 1 
 And to me, indeed, it appears that they are of more 
 value- than the vegetable world to him, or, at any rate, 
 he is nourished and enriched no less by the one than 
 by the other. And many races of mankind do not use 
 the fruits of the earth as a means of subsistence, but 
 support life on the milk and cheese and meat obtained 
 from their herds ; and all men, by taming and training 
 the serviceable animals, employ them as useful assist- 
 ants in war, and for many other purposes." " In all 
 this I also agree with you," said Euthydemus ; " for I 
 observe that of the animals, even those that are much 
 stronger than we are, become so subservient to man. 
 that he uses them for whatever end he wishes," 
 "And again, inasmuch as there exist many beautiful 
 and useful objects which differ one from another, that 
 the gods have conferred upon man perceptions adapted 
 to each of them, through which we are capable of ap- 
 preciating all their advantages ; and that they ha\-^ 
 implanted in us rationality, by means of which we 
 reason upon what our senses perceive, and, by storing 
 it in our memories, learn how far each object is bene- 
 ficial, and put into practice many contrivances for the 
 enjoyment of good and the avoidance of evil? And 
 that they should have bestowed upon us the faculty of
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 203 
 
 speech, by means of wliicli -we impart all these bless- 
 ings to others, by communicating a knowledge of them, 
 and ourselves participate in them, and enact lavs, and 
 carry on our affairs of state % " " The gods appear, 
 Socrates, to take great care of man in every way." 
 " And as we are unable to calculate what will be for 
 our future benefit, that they should aid us also in ascer- 
 taining this by revealing coming events to those who 
 consult them, and instruct them as to the best course 
 to pursue 1 " " To you, at least, Socrates," replied 
 Euthydemus, "the gods appear to behave in a more 
 friendly way than they do to other people, if, at least, 
 it is the case that they point out to you beforehand, 
 even without your asking them, what you ought and 
 what you ought not to do." * " At any rate, you will 
 yourself acknowledge that I speak the truth, if you do 
 not expect to behold the gods in their bodily forms, but 
 are satisfied from beholding their works to worship and 
 honour them. Consider, too, that the gods themselves 
 suggest to us that we should do this ; for the other 
 deities t that vouchsafe blessings to us do not confer 
 
 "* This is an allusion to the oal/xwv (dasmon) of Socrates, who argued 
 that he received some kind of an internal intimation from an invisible 
 deity as to what he ought to do and what to avoid. And this was one 
 of the charges on which the accusation of his having introduced new 
 deities was founded. Cf. p. 2, ante. 
 
 t According to the tenets of Socrates, Plato, and the Stoics, besides 
 one great superintending power, there were also a variety of lesser 
 deities employed in the government of the world and in conferring gifts 
 upon men. Among the Romans, also, Cicero and his followers held the 
 Bame opinions.
 
 204 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 them tipon us by coming openly into onr presence. So, 
 likewise, tlie deity who regulates and sustains the 
 whole universe, in which exists everything that is 
 lovely and good, and who upholds it unimpaired, well- 
 ordered, and undecaying for the use of Ms creatures, 
 and swifter than thought to obey his behests without 
 any deviation, is himself revealed to us, indeed, in the 
 execution of his mighty works, but is invisible to us in 
 the performance of them. Keflect, again, how that the 
 sun, although he is conspicuous to all men, does not 
 suffer them to look at him too minutely, but if any one 
 attempts to gaze steadfastly at him, he deprives them of 
 their eyesight. Tlie agents of the gods you will, in 
 like manner, find invisible ; as the thunderbolt, which, 
 although it is manifestly launched from on high, and 
 prevaUs against every object that stands in its way, 
 is never seen, either in its approach, or its contact, or its 
 departure. Neither are the winds themselves visible, 
 although their effects are evident to us, and we are sen- 
 sible of their advent. And the soul of man, again, which 
 partakes of the divine nature, if anything human does, 
 manifestly rules within us, but is itself unseen. Medi- 
 tating upon these things, therefore, it behoves you not 
 to hold the gods in light esteem because they are invi- 
 sible, but, recognising their power as displayed in their 
 works, to pay them the honour due to their divine 
 nature." " I am quite convinced, Socrates," said 
 Euthydemus, " that I shall never in the slightest de-
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 205 
 
 gree fail in my reverence for the deity ; but I am dis- 
 heartened at the thougiit that no man can ever as it 
 appears to me, sufficiently requite the gods for all their 
 favours." " Do not be cast down on that account, 
 Euthydemus," said Socrates, " for you knoAv that the 
 Delphian deity, when any one consults him as to how 
 he can most acceptably worship the gods, answers — 
 ' According to the laws of your country ; ' and the law, 
 I take it, that prevails universally is, that men should 
 propitiate them with sacred offerings, each one accord- 
 ing to his means. How, then, can any one honour the 
 gods more perfectly or religiously than by acting in ac- 
 cordance with their behests ? We must not, however, 
 do less than our means enable us to do ; for when a per- 
 son acts in this way, it is, I conceive, quite clear that he is 
 not then paying due honour to the gods. But it befits 
 him who in no respect fails to honour the gods accord- 
 ing to his means, to be of good cheer and to hope for 
 the greatest blessings ; for no one can reasonably expect 
 greater benefits from any one than he can from those 
 who have it in their power to render him the most 
 valuable services, or to secure their favour by any surer 
 way than by pleasing them. And how can he please 
 them better than by obeying them as implicitly as 
 possible ? " 
 
 By such utterances, and a course of conduct in har- 
 mony with them, he rendered his associates both more 
 pious and more sober-minded.
 
 2o5 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Neither, incTeed, did Socrates conceal Ms opinions 
 upon tlie subject of justice, but displayed them openly 
 in Ms actions, both, by behaving equitably and profit- 
 ably to all men in his private life, and in his public 
 capacity by obeying the ruling powers in all such 
 matters as were laid down by law, and by conducting 
 himself in such a manner, both as a citizen and a 
 soldier,* that he was conspicuous above any other man 
 for his adherence to discipline. And when he presided 
 at the public assemblies, he would not allow the people 
 to pass illegal decrees, but opposed himself to so much 
 -violence on the part of the populace as I do not think 
 any one else could have withstood. And when the 
 Thirty t commanded him to do anything contrary to the 
 law, he refused to obey them. Thus, when they forbade 
 him to discourse with the young, and ordered him to 
 lead away a certain citizen to execution, he alone disre- 
 garded their edicts, on the ground that they were 
 illegal. When, again, he was traversing the indictment 
 of Meletus,t although others, when pleading, were accus- 
 
 * Socrates, at one period of his life, served in the army, and was pre- 
 sent with x'enophon at the battle of Deli urn, between the Athenians 
 and Boeotians, B.C. 424. 
 
 t See ante, p. 7, 18-20. 
 
 \ Meletus was an obscure poet at Athens, who was glad to gain noto- 
 riety by appearing as one of the prosecutors of Socrates. Not very long
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 207 
 
 tomed to speak so as to gain tlie favour of the judges, 
 and to flatter them and supplicate them, in direct con- 
 travention of the laws, he v^'ould not on his trial adopt 
 any of these ordinary illegal devices ; but although 
 he might, had he in the slightest degree consented 
 to do so, have easily gained an acquittal from his 
 judges, he nevertheless preferred to die, in conformity 
 with the laws, than to save his life by transgressing 
 them. 
 
 And he oftentimes both made this statement to 
 others, and with Hippias of Elis* I know that he dis- 
 coursed somewhat after this fashion. For Hippias, 
 returning to Athens after a long absence, encountered 
 Socrates as he was remarking to some people how sur- 
 prising it was that, if any one wished to have another 
 instructed in shoemaking, or architecture, or brass- 
 founding, or riding, he was never in any difficulty as 
 to where he should send him to' be taught, [and there 
 are some who maintain that if any one desii'ed to teach 
 even a horse or an ox to act justly, plenty of masters 
 
 after tbe execution of the latter the Athenians repented of having con- 
 denined him, and Meletus «as stoned to death as liaving been one of 
 the instigators of his murder. — See. tSmilh's ^•Dictionary of Greek and 
 Roman Biography and Mythology," sub voce "Meletus." 
 
 * Hippias of Elis was a celebrated Sophist, who travelled about 
 Greece, and acquired great wealth by his lectures and public dis- 
 cussions. He was a contemporary of Plato, who, in two Dialogues 
 (the "Hippias Major" and "Minor"), has described him as a man pos- 
 sessed of great literary and artistic attainments, but excessively vain 
 and self-opinionated. — See Smith's ^'Dictionary of Greek and lioinan 
 Biograi>hy and Mythology," sub voce ''Hippias. "
 
 2oS MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 could be found everywhere for them] * while if a man 
 wished either to learn justice himself, or to have it 
 taught to his son or his servant, he would be at a los3 
 to know where he could meet with the recLuisite in- 
 struction. Then Hippias, hearing him make these re- 
 marks, said, jeering him as it were—" What, Socrates, 
 are you still repeating the very same expressions which 
 I heard you indulging in ever so long ago 1 " " Yes, 
 Hippias," replied Socrates, " and what is more wonder- 
 ful still, is, that I am not only repeating the very same 
 expressions, but I am discoursing upon the very same 
 topics ; but you, perhaps, from your excessive learning, 
 never repeat your observations over again." "As- 
 suredly," rejoined Hippias, "I always endeavour to 
 say something new." " In reference to subjects, then, 
 upon which you possess incontrovertible kno-\\ledge — 
 as for instance, with regard to the letters of the 
 alphabet— if any one should incLuire of you how many 
 and what letters formed the word " Socrates," would you 
 endeavour to say one thing at one time and another 
 at another 1 Or to those who questioned you in arith- 
 metic, whether twice five made ten, woidd you not give 
 the same answer at one time as you did at another ] " 
 " Upon such subjects as these, Socrates," returned Hip- 
 pias, " I always repeat what I have said before, just 
 as you do. But with regard to justice, I verily beUeve 
 
 * Some commentators regard the passage within brackets as corrupt, 
 and reject it allogether.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 209 
 
 that I have something now to advance which neither 
 j'ou nor any one else can gainsay." " Then, by Juno," 
 cried Socrates, " you claim to have discovered a mighty 
 boon, since our judges will now cease from differing in 
 their decisions, our citizens will abstain from disput- 
 ing about what is just, and from suing each other at 
 law and quarrelling, and states will no longer hold 
 conflicting views with regard to what is just, or go to 
 war. And indeed I scarcely feel as if I could ever part 
 with you until I have had the knowledge of so enor- 
 mous a blessing communicated to me by its discoverer." 
 " But, by Jupiter," exclaimed Hippias, " that you shall 
 never have, before you yourself declare what you con- 
 sider justice to be ; for it is quite sufficient that you 
 laugh at others, questioning and puzzling every one, 
 while you yourself are unwilling to give a definition to 
 anybody, or to state your opinion clearly upon any 
 subject whatever." " How so, Hippias % " asked So- 
 crates. " Have you not noticed that I never desist 
 from setting forth what I consider justice to be ? " 
 " And what, then, may this your definition of it be % " 
 " And if I do not define it in words, but illustrate it by 
 my actions, does not practice appear to you to afford a 
 stronger testimony as to my opinions than theory ? " 
 "Yes, by Jupiter," replied the other, "it does; for 
 many who talk justly act unjustly, whereas he who acts 
 justly cannot be an unjust man." " Have you, then,
 
 2IO MEMOIRS QF SOCRA TES. 
 
 ever heard of me as a perjtirer, or a common informer * 
 or as a person wlio involves tlie state in seditions, or 
 commits any other unjust act ] " "I have not," re- 
 joined Hippias. " And do you not think that to abstam 
 from imjust acts is justice ? " " You are evidently, even 
 now, Socrates," said Hippias, "endeavouring to avoid 
 giving clear utterance to your sentiments as to what you 
 consider justice to he, inasmuch as what you are talking 
 of are not the things that the just do, hut those from 
 •which they abstain." » But for my part," said Socrates, 
 " I thought that the being unwilling to commit acts of 
 injustice was a sufficient proof of justice ; but if you 
 do not hold the same opinion, consider whether this is 
 more to your mind-for I hold that whatever is in con- 
 formity with the laws is just." " Do you then assert, 
 Socrates, that conformity with the laws and justice are 
 identical?" "I certainly do so," repUed Socrates. 
 " But I fail to gather from you what sort of an action 
 you define as being in conformity with the laws, and 
 what sort as just." " But you know the laws of the 
 state," said Socrates. " I do," replied the other. " And 
 
 * Literally "a fig-shower," from (XVKOV [mkon), "a fig," and 
 <paivo^, fut. ct'O.vC^ iphaino, m. pkano), "to show." T^erewasalaw 
 To forb d the export of figs from Attica, and hence a person «ho laid 
 1 slcr t informaUon against another, on any charge whatever, was caUed 
 a " sycophant " Thence the term was applied to those who gaye false 
 or bad advice, and afterwards, on that account, it was also used of a 
 flatterer.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CEA TES. 2 1 1 
 
 what do you consider tliem to be ? " " Those enact- 
 ments which the citizens have passed to inform us what 
 we should do, and what we should . avoid doin"." 
 "Would not that man, then," asked Socrates, "be a 
 law-abiding person who directed his life as a member 
 of the body politic in conformity with those laws, and 
 a law-breaker if he transgressed them % " " Assuredly 
 he would," answered Hippias. *' Would not he, then, 
 who obeyed them, be performing just actions and he 
 who disobeyed them, unjust % " " Certainly." " Is not 
 he, then, who performs just actions, just, and he who 
 acts unjustly, imjust ? " " How can it be otherwise." 
 " He, therefore, who acts conformably to the laws, is 
 just, and he who violates them, unjust." "But, 
 Socrates," asked Hippias, "how can any one attach 
 much importance to the laws, or to the abiding by 
 them, seeing that their very framers themselves often 
 either abrogate or alter them ? " " So, also, states," 
 remarked Socrates, "which have commenced a war, 
 frequently become reconciled again," " Very fre- 
 quently," said Hippias. "What difference do you 
 think you make, then, when you find faidt with those 
 who abide by the laws, althougli they may be repealed, 
 and when you blame those who act prudently in war- 
 fare by concluding a peace ? Or do you object to those 
 who vigorously support their respective countries in 
 times of war % " " Not I, by Jupiter," exclaimed Hip- 
 pias. " And have you not heard it said of the Lace-
 
 2 1 2 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 
 
 dajmonian, Lycurgus * that lie would never have made 
 Sparta at all different from other states, had he not 
 laboured above all things to inculcate into her a spirit 
 of obedience to the laws ? And of the rulers of states, 
 do you not know that those who are most effectual in 
 enforcing the laws are the best, and that that state in 
 which the members cf the community are most obedient 
 to the laws, fares best in peace, and cannot be over- 
 thrown in war ? Moreover, unanimity appears to be 
 the greatest blessing to a state, and over and over again 
 the senate and leading men exhort the people to 
 cultivate it ; and throughout the whole of Greece a law 
 prevails that the members of each state should swear to 
 live in concord, and they everywhere take an oath to 
 that effect. And this, I conceive, is done not with the 
 object of making citizens agree as to the merits of the 
 same choruses, or unanimous in their praises of the 
 same flute-players, or in their approval of the same 
 poets, or that they should take delight in the same 
 recreations, but that they should yield obedience to the 
 laws. For when the members of the community abide 
 by these, bodies politic wax stronger and more pro- 
 sperous ; but without unanimity, neither can a state be 
 
 * Great difference of opinion exists as to the exact date of the great 
 Spartan legislator, Lycurgus, but the best authorities fix it at circa b.o. 
 880. For the nature of his political and social enactments, see Smith s 
 ''Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology," suhvoce. 
 "Lycurgus;" Grote's "History of Greece" (12 vols. 8vo, London, 1869), 
 vol. ii. pp. 338-420; and Thirhvall's "History of Greece," vol i. pp. 
 291-302.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 213 
 
 well administered, nor a houseliold properly managed. 
 And as a private individual, how would any man be 
 more likely to avoid state penalties, and gain more re- 
 spect, than by obeying the laws ? And how could he 
 otherwise be exposed to fewer defeats in the law courts, 
 or how could he gain more victories there ? And to 
 whose care would any one think that he could more 
 safely intrust his property, or his sons, or his daughters, 
 and in whom wou.ld the whole community place more 
 implicit confidence, than in the man who abides by the 
 laws ? From whom, again, would parents, or relatives, 
 or domestics, or friends, or citizens, or strangers be more 
 likely to obtain their rights % And to whom would the 
 enemy more readily intrust the arrangements for truces, 
 treaties, or conventions for establishing peace % Or 
 whose alliance woiild be more eagerly sought than that 
 of a law-abiding man, and to whose leadership would 
 allies more readily submit themselves or commit the 
 guardianship of their forts or cities ? And from Avhom 
 would any one who had done him a kindness expect 
 more gratitude than from a man who respects the laws ? 
 or whom would one more willingly oblige than a per- 
 son from whom one expects to receive gratitude ] 
 Whose friendship would any one more desire, or whose 
 enmity more deprecate, than he would that of such a 
 man ? Or with whom would one be less inclined to 
 quarrel, and most disposed to be friendly, and least of 
 all at variance ? And with whom would most people
 
 214 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 wish to be on terms of friendship and alliance, and 
 only a very small proportion on those of hatred and 
 antagonism? I therefore, Hippias, declare obedience 
 to the law and justice to be identical ; but if you hold 
 a different opinion, state it to me." " But," said Hip- 
 pias, " by Jupiter, Socrates, I do not think that my 
 opinions axe in any way at variance with yours in re- 
 spect to justice." " But do you know, Hippias," asked 
 Socrates, " that there are certain laws which are un- 
 written % " " Such as those," said Hippias, " that are in 
 vogue in every country with reference to the same 
 points." " Could you aflfirm, then," continued Socrates, 
 « that men enacted them 1 " " How could they do so," 
 inquired Hippias, "inasmuch as they could neither as- 
 semble together nor use the same language 1 " " By 
 whom, then, do you suppose that such laws were 
 made V "I think," answered Hippias, " that the gods 
 established them for the guidance of mankind, for the 
 worship of the gods is the first law which prevails 
 universaUy among all men." " Is not reverence for 
 parents also a universal law 1" "It is so." "Is it 
 not also a law that parents should not intermarry with 
 their children, or children with their parents ?" " But 
 this no longer, Socrates," remarked Hippias, " appears 
 to me to be one of the laws of the gods." « And why 
 not ] " asked Socrates. " Because I see," returned the 
 other, " that there are some who transgress it." " And 
 there are many other laws," said Socrates, " that they
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 215 
 
 transgress ; but those who disobey the laws of the gods, 
 iiicux penalties from wliicli men cannot possibly escape, w 
 as they frequently can when they violate human enact- 
 ments, in some instances by concealment, in others by 
 force." " And what sort of penalty is that, Socrates," 
 asked Hippias, "which parents who intermarry with 
 their children, or children who intermarry witli their 
 parents, cannot escape ? " " The heaviest of all penalties, 
 by Jupiter," answered Socrates ; " for what greater mis- 
 fortune can befall a father than to have bad children ? " 
 " But why," said Hippias, " should those fathers have 
 bad children who, being good themselves, are not pre- 
 vented by any cii'cumstance from having families by 
 good wives ? " " Because, by Juj^iter," replied Socrates, 
 " those who procreate children should not only be good, 
 but in full bodily vigour ; or does the procreative 
 power appear to you to be the same in those who are 
 in the prime of life as it is in those who have not yet 
 reached, or those that have passed it ? " " No, by 
 Jupiter," answered the other, " it is not likely that it 
 would be the same." " Which of the two, then, is the 
 more perfect ? " "Clearly," rejoined the other, "that 
 of those who are in the prime of life." " That of those, 
 then, that have not yet arrived at their prime is not 
 strong enough % " " It is not likely, by Jupiter, that it 
 would be," said the other. " Accordingly, they should 
 not as yet have families?" "No, they should not." 
 " Do not those, therefore, that procreate children imder
 
 2i6 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 these conditions have them when they ought not ? " 
 " So it appears to me." " What other persons, then," 
 asked Socrates, " are likely to have bad children, if these 
 are not ? " "I agree with you," returned the other, 
 " upon this point also." " Well, then," continued So- 
 crates, "is it not a universal law that men should re- 
 comj)ense those who show kindness to them 1 " " It 
 is so," replied Hippias ; " but this, too, is a law that is 
 often broken." "And do not those that break it suffer 
 the penalty by being deserted by such of their friends 
 as are worth having, and being compelled to have 
 recourse to people who hate them ? And are not those 
 who do good to such as wish to avail themselves of 
 their services good friends to themselves ? And are 
 not those who do not return kindnesses to those who 
 benefit them hated by the latter for their ingratitude, 
 and yet, because it serves their turn to be intimate 
 with such people, do they not pay the greatest court 
 to them % " " By Jupiter," exclaimed Hippias, " all 
 these results do indeed seem to proceed upon some 
 godlike principle ; for that the laws themselves should 
 carry with them punishment for such as transgress 
 them appears to me to indicate some legislator who 
 is wiser than man." " Whether, then, do you think, 
 Hippias, that the gods enact laws which are in con- 
 sonance with justice, or in opposition to it?" "In 
 consonance with it," answered Hippias ; " for scarcely 
 would any other being establish just laws if a god did
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 2 1 7 
 
 not." " So it is certainly agreeable to the will of the 
 gods, Hippias, that what is just and what is in conformity 
 wdth the laws should be identical." 
 
 By such conversations and such conduct he rendered 
 his followers more observant of justice. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 I NOW proceed to set forth the means he adopted to 
 make his associates more practical men of business. 
 
 As he considered te mperance to be an incalculable 
 advantage to any one who was about to engage in any 
 important enterprise, he, more than any man, gave evi- 
 dence to his disciples of practising it in his own person, 
 and also in his discourses inculcated upon them its ob- 
 servance, as being more necessary than anything else. 
 Accordingly, he was both himself continually mindful 
 of whatever conduced to this virtue, and never ceased 
 directing the attention of all his followers to it ; and I 
 know that on one occasion he held a conversation with 
 Euthydemus upon the subject, somewhat to the follow- 
 ing effect : — 
 I " Tell me, Euthydemus," he said, " whether you re- 
 gard freedom as a valuable and honourable possession 
 for an individual or a state ? " " I regard it as more so
 
 2 1 S MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 than any other possession," replied the other. " If a 
 man, then, is nnder the control of his bodily pleasxires 
 to such a degree that he is poAverless to act accord.ing to 
 his highest instincts, do yoii consider him to he free ? " 
 "By no means," said Euthydemus. "For, probably 
 acting in the best possible way appears to you to con- 
 stitute freedom, and the being imder the control of 
 iutiuences that prevent one's so acting you regaixl as an 
 indication of want of freedom ]" " Certainly," i-eplied 
 Euthydemus. " The intemperate, then, appear to you 
 to be, in every respect, as people who are w-ithout free- 
 dom?" "Yes, by Jupiter," exclaimed Euthydemus, 
 " and natimilly so." " And do the intemperate seem to 
 you merely to be prevented from acting in the best 
 possible vay, or to be forced to do those things that 
 are most disgraceful ? " " They appear to me," replied 
 he, " to be no less compelled to do the one than they are 
 prevented from doing the other." " And what do you 
 think of those masters who prevent men from doing 
 what is best for them, and coerce them into doing that 
 which is most injurioiis 1 " " That they are the worst 
 masters possible." " And what sort of slavery do you 
 consider the most grievous ? " " That," stxid he, " imder 
 the worst masters." "And do not the intemperate 
 suffer the most grievous kind of bondage ] " " So it 
 appears to me," answered the other. "And does not 
 intemperance, by repelling men from wisdom, which is 
 their chief good, seem to vou to precipitate them into
 
 MEMOIRS OF SO CRA TES. 2 1 9 
 
 its opposite evil ] Does it not, likewise, appear to you 
 ill reference to what is useful to them, that it hinders 
 them from acquiring a knowledge of it by seducing 
 them to pleasure, and frequently, by diverting from 
 their duty even those who know the difference between 
 good and evil, lead them to prefer the worse to the 
 better course ? " " That is certainly the case," replied 
 Euthydemus. " And of whom can it be predicated that 
 he is less under the influence of sobriety of mind than 
 it can of the intemperate man '] for, I take it that the 
 actions resulting from sobriety and intemperance are 
 diametrically opposite to each other." " I assent to 
 this proposition also," said Euthydenius.y "And do 
 you consider that there is anything which makes men 
 disregard everything that is decorous more completely 
 than intemperance 1" "I do not, indeed," replied he. 
 " And do you think anything can be worse for a man 
 tlian that which induces him to select such things as 
 are hurtful to him in preference to those which are 
 beneficial, Avhich prompts him to court the one and 
 neglect the other, and which urges him on to a course 
 totally opposite to that which is pursued by the sober- 
 minded 1" "1 do not think anything can be worse," 
 said Euthydemus. " Is it not proljable, therefore," con- 
 tinued Socrates, " that temperance will produce in men 
 effects just the reverse of those which are produced by 
 intemperance ? " " Certainly," replied the other. " Is 
 it not probable, then, that such habits as produce those
 
 220 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES, 
 
 contrary effects would be most beneficial to a man ? " 
 " It is so, Socrates," said lie. " And have you ever re- 
 flected upon tliis fact, Euthydemus ? " " Upon what fact ?" 
 asked the latter. " That intemperance does not actually 
 lead men to those pleasures to which it pretends to lead 
 them, whereas temperance produces more real pleasure 
 than anything else." " How so % " asked Euthydemus. 
 " Because intemperance, by its never permitting men to 
 feel the want of food, or drink, or sexual intercourse, or 
 sleep (the longing for which alone causes men really to 
 enjoy eating, drinking, or sexual intercourse, and makes 
 them lie down and sleep tranquilly), prevents their de- 
 riving any pleasure, which can properly be so called, 
 even from the most necessary and ordinary acts. Tem- 
 perance, on the other hand, as she alone renders men 
 capable of resisting excess in such matters as I have 
 mentioned, so also she alone enables them to find any 
 gratification, which is really worthy of the name, in 
 those actions of Avhich we have spoken." " Your state- 
 ments are, in every respect, incontrovertible," said 
 Euthydemus. "But, moreover, a man, by learning 
 what is honourable and good, and applying his mind to 
 some branch of knowledge, which enables him to train 
 his own body properly, and to manage his domestic 
 affairs judiciously, and to make himseK useful to his 
 friends or to the state, but grievous to his enemies (from 
 which knowledge not only the greatest advantages but 
 the highest pleasures accrue), the temperate derive from
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 221 
 
 giich actions a gratification, in wMch it is impossible for 
 the intemperate to participate. For of whom can we 
 more confidently affirm that he is less in a position 
 to attain to the accomplishment of any of these ends than 
 we can of a man who is always anxious to seize upon 
 any species of pleasure that may be nearest at hand \ " 
 
 Then said Euthydemus— " You seem to me to main- 
 tain, Socrates, that he who is dominated by his love 
 of bodily pleasure cannot be possessed of any virtue 
 whatever." " And pray, Euthydemus," asked Socrates, 
 " in what respects does an intemperate man difier from 
 the most ignorant brute ? For if any one, instead of 
 regarding his highest interests, seeks invariably to avail 
 himself of any pleasure that comes within his reach, 
 what distinction is there between his conduct and that 
 of the most unreasoning beasts 1 But the temperate 
 alone have the power of weighing what is best in every 
 transaction, and by classifying each particular pursuit, 
 both in their deeds and their words, according to its 
 own proper essence, of selecting such as are good, and 
 rejecting whatever is evil." 
 
 And it was this power, he declared, that rendered // 
 men most virtuous and happy, and most capable of 
 reasoning ; for he said that the phrase " to reason" was 
 derived from the practice of people's holding confer- 
 ences for the purpose of debating on various matters, 
 and distinguishing between them according to their 
 several natures. Wherefore, he thought that it behoved
 
 222 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 every one to render himself an adept in tlie art of 
 reasoning, and to study it as diligently as possible ; 
 for that, by means of it, men became most estimable, 
 best fitted to guide others, and most skilful in argument. 
 
 CHAPTER V I. 
 
 And I will now endeavour to prove that he did render 
 his disciples more skilful in argument. For he held 
 that those who understood the nature of each individual 
 existence would probably be most capable of explaining 
 them to others ; but he said of those who did not pos- 
 sess any such knowledge, that it was no wonder that 
 they were both deceived themselves, and also led others 
 into error. Consequently, he never ceased investigating 
 with his associates the nature of every individual exist- 
 ence. 
 
 It would, indeed, be an enormous task to set down in 
 detail all his various definitions of the terms employed 
 by him in his various discourses ; but so much as I 
 think will serve my purpose, and will show how he 
 conducted his investigations, that will I relate. 
 
 First, then, he inquired into the nature of piety 
 somewhat after this fashion: — " Tell me, Euthydemus,"
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 223 
 
 lie said, " what do you conceive piety to be % " " The 
 chief good of man," replied tlie otlier. " Are you able, 
 then, to define to me what sort of a person you would 
 designate as pious ? " " One, as it seems to me," 
 answered Euthydemus, " who honoui's the gods." 
 " And is it permissible for every one to honour the gods 
 according to his own fancy ? " " No ; there are certain 
 laws which define how we are to honour them." 
 " Would not he, therefore, who is best acquainted with 
 those laws be most likely to honour the gods in a 
 proper manner i " "I think so," replied the other. 
 " Accordmgly, he who knows how to honour the gods, 
 does not think that he should honour them in any way 
 that is contrary to that knowledge 1" "I suppose not," 
 said Euthydemus. " He, then, who knows the decrees 
 of the law respectmg the gods, will honour them as the 
 law directs?" "Certainly, he wiU." "And does not 
 he who honours the gods conformably to law, honour 
 them as he ought ? " " How can it be otherwise ? " 
 " And he who honours them as he ought to do, is a 
 pious man 1 " " Of course he is," replied the other. 
 " He, therefore, who knows what the law decrees with 
 respect to the gods, may be correctly defined by us as a 
 pious man 1 " " So, at least, it appears to me," said 
 Euthydemus. "But, with regard to our conduct to- 
 wards our fellow-men, may every one behave himself 
 just as he thinks fit ] " " No ; but in regard to them 
 also, he who knows what is decreed by tlie laws, and
 
 224 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 how to conduct himself towards others, agreeably to 
 those decrees, will act conformably to the law." " Do not 
 those, then, whose conduct towards one another proceeds 
 upon this principle, conduct themselves properly ? " 
 "How can it be otherwise T' answered the other. 
 " And do not those who behave as they ought to do to- 
 wards others, behave themselves well ? " « Certainly " 
 said Euthydemus. "And those who behave well to 
 men, behave well in all transactions as between man 
 and man ? " " Most probably," answered the other. 
 " Do not those, then, who obey the laws act justly ? " 
 " Decidedly," repHed Euthydemus. " And do you know 
 what sort of actions are said to be just?" "Those 
 wHch are sanctioned by the law." « Those, therefore, 
 who do what is sanctioned by the law, act justly, and as 
 they ought to act?" "How can it be otherwise?" 
 " Those, therefore, who act justly, are just ?" " I cer- 
 tainly think so," said Euthydemus. "But do you 
 think that any one is obedient to the laws who does 
 not know what they sanction?" "Assuredly not" 
 replied he. " And if people know what they ought to 
 do, do you think that there are any who suppose that 
 they ought not to do it?" " I do not tliink so." "Those, 
 therefore, who know what is conformable to the law, 
 with regard to men, act justly ? " " No doubt they do," 
 remarked the other. "And are not those who act 
 justly, just people ? " " Who else is, if they are not ? " 
 inquired Euthydemus. " Shall we not be correct, then,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 225 
 
 in defining just people to be those who know what is 
 conformable to law in respect to mankind ? " " So it 
 certainly seems to me," said Euthydemus. 
 
 "And how shall we define Wisdom? Tell me 
 whether do men appear to you to be wise in such 
 matters as they understand, or are there some who are 
 wise upon points that they do not understand ? " " Men 
 are clearly wise upon such matters as they under- 
 stand," rejoined Euthydemus ; " for how could any 
 be wise upon things that he did not understand?" 
 " The mse, then, are wise by knowledge ? " " And 
 how otherwise could any one become wise except 
 through knowledge ? " " Do you regard wisdom, then, 
 as anything else than that by means of which men 
 become wise ? " "I do not." " Knowledge, therefore, 
 is wisdom?" "It appears so to me." "But do you 
 deem it possible for a man to know everything in the 
 world % " " No, by Jupiter ! but, as it seems to me, only 
 a very inconsiderable portion of them." "It is not 
 therefore, possible for a man to be wise upon every 
 subject?" "No, by Jupiter, I should think not," 
 exclaimed the other. " Each one is wise, then, upon 
 that particular subject which he understands ? " " That 
 is my opinion," said Euthydemus. 
 
 " And shall we adopt the same method, Euthydenms, 
 in oiu: investigations as to what the Good is ? " " How 
 do you mean ? " asked Euthydemus. " Do you think 
 that the same thing is beneficial in every individual
 
 226 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 case ? " "I do not." " So, tlien, wliat is beneficial to 
 one person seems to you sometimes to be bnrtful to 
 another % " " Very mucb so," replied tbe other. " Ajid 
 would you designate as good anytbing tbat is not bene- 
 ficial ? " "I should not," returned the other. « What- 
 soever then is beneficial is good to him to whom it is 
 beneficial V "I think so," was his answer. 
 
 "And can you define the Beautiful, if anything 
 possesses this quality, in any other way than by 
 describing it (be it a person, or a vessel, or any other 
 object) as beautiful in regard to those purposes for 
 which you know that it is so % » " No, by Jupiter, I can- 
 not » said Euthydemus. " For whatever purpose, there- 
 fore, each particular object may be useful, for that puri^ose 
 
 it is beautiful to use it % " " Undoubtedly," replied the 
 other " And is any particular object beautiful for any 
 other purpose than that for which it is beautiful to use 
 it?" "No, not for any other," said Euthydemus. 
 "The useful, then, is beautiful for every purpose for 
 which it is useful?" "Those are my sentiments, 
 
 answered the other. 
 
 " And do you regard Courage, Euthydemus, as conung 
 under the category of good qualities I " " As one of the 
 best," replied he. " Do you conceive it to be useful m 
 ver; small emergencies 1 " " No, by Jupiter,' rejomed 
 Euthydemus, "but in the very greatest." "Does it 
 then appear to you to be useful with respect to danger- 
 ous and formidable undertakings to be ignorant of their
 
 ■ MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 227 
 
 nature ? " " By no means," said the other. " Those, 
 therefore, who do not fear such enterprises because they 
 are ignorant of their character, are not courageous % " 
 " No, by Jupiter," said Euthydemus, " for in that case 
 many madmen and cowards would be courageous," 
 *' And what about such as are afraid of things that are 
 not terrible ? " " They are still less courageous, by 
 Jupiter, than the others." " Those, then, that are good 
 in reference to terrible and dangerous circumstances 
 you would consider as courageous people, and those 
 who are bad as cowards ? " " Certainly," replied the 
 other. " But do you regard any as being good in refer- 
 ence to such circumstances, except those who are able 
 to behave well in them ? " " None," replied the other. 
 " And those who are not able to behave well in them 
 you regard as bad ? " " Whom else can I consider so ?" 
 asked he. " But does not each class of them think they 
 are behaving as they ought to behave % " " How can it be 
 otherwise % " " Do those, then, who cannot behave well 
 in them, know how they ought to behave ? " "I suppose 
 not," said Euthydemus. " Those, then, who know how 
 they ought to behave, these have the power of conduct- 
 ing themselves accordingly ? " " They and they alone," 
 assented Euthydemus. " So, then, those who do not lose 
 their presence of mind under such circumstances do not 
 behave badly in them ? " "I think not," said the other. 
 " But those who behave badly in them have lost their 
 presence of mind ? "' " Probably," answered he. " Those,
 
 228 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 then, wlio know lio-w to behave well in difficulties and 
 dangers are courageous, but those who are confounded 
 by thena are cowards ? " " So they seem to me," said 
 Euthydemus. 
 
 Monarchy and tyranny he looked upon as both being 
 forms of government ; but he held that they differed 
 one from the other. The government of men with their 
 own consent, and over states in compliance with fixed 
 laws, he regarded as a monarchy ; that over men against 
 their will, and over states not in obedience to law, but 
 according to the dictates of the ruler, as a tyranny. 
 And wherever the ruling body was composed of those 
 who acted in compliance with legal enactments, he 
 defined that government as an aristocracy ; where it was 
 chosen from men selected on account of their wealth, as 
 a plutocracy ; and where it consisted of the whole body 
 of the people, as a democracy. 
 
 And if a person should contradict him on any point 
 without having anything definite to say, but should assert 
 independently of all proof that some individual whom 
 he mentioned was better versed in politics, or braver, or 
 superior in any respect, he would bring the whole qiies- 
 tion to the test by some such reasoning as the foUowiifg : 
 — " Do you maintain that the person whom you com- 
 mend is a better statesman than the one whom I am 
 upholding ] " "I do." " Why, then, should we not 
 commence by considering first what are the duties of a 
 good statesman ? " " Let us do so." " Would not he,
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 229 
 
 tlien, be superior in the management of the public funds 
 who increased the revenue of the state ? " " Certainly," 
 replied his opponent. " And in war, he who rendered 
 it victorious over its enemies ] " " How can it be other- 
 Avise ? " " And in diplomacy, he who should convert foes 
 into friends % " " Naturally." " And he who, in haran- 
 guing a popular assembly, should quell sedition and 
 induce a spirit of unanimity % " " It appears so to me." 
 So when the argument was brought to a conclusion l)y 
 such a process as this, the truth was made manifest even 
 to his opponents. 
 
 And when he wished to sift any subject thoroughly, 
 he proceeded to reason upon it from such premises as 
 are generally admitted- thinking that this was a safe 
 method of conducting the discussion. Hence he, more 
 than anyone I have ever known, brought his hearers to 
 agree with him ; and he said that Homer* assigned to 
 Ulysses the character of " a safe rhetorician" on account 
 of his ability to conduct his Une of reasoning by means 
 of arguments acknowledged as vaHd by all mankind. 
 
 * Xenophon must here have forgotten the exact words of the passage 
 here quoted by Socrates, as Homer does not apply the epithet given m the 
 txt ruiysses, but the hUter uses it in a dispute with Euryalus, and 
 ntimates that as one man is most conspicuous in action, so anotlxer 
 excels in oratory, and ;dcr0aXecos a^optv^i) -is a safe speaker. -Su 
 « Odyssey," viii- 171 et seq.
 
 230 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 And that Socrates expressed Ms gemiine convictions to 
 those who came to attend his discussions is, I think, 
 evident from my previous statements. I will now, 
 therefore, proceed to show how careful he was to make 
 his disciples complete masters of such kmds of busi- 
 nesses as were suited to them. He, more than any 
 other person with whom I am acquainted, was anxious 
 to discover in what branch of knowledge each of his 
 followers respectively excelled, and such precepts as 
 would conduce to make them good and honourable 
 characters he most readily communicated to them all, 
 in reference to sucli matters as he himself miderstood ; 
 but with regard to subjects as to which he was per- 
 sonally less instructed, he introduced them to those 
 who were proficients in them. 
 
 He taught them, too, how far it behoved a properly 
 educated man to be iustructed on each particular branch 
 of knowledge. For instance, he said that he should 
 study geometry up to such a point as would enable him, 
 if ever he should require to do so, to take or hand over 
 land correctly by measurement, or to divide it, or to 
 point out in what proportions it should be worked ; and 
 that it was so easy to acquire the science, that any one 
 who applied his mind to it might discover by D^ensara-
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 231 
 
 tion the extent of all tlie land in the world, and quit 
 his master with a perfect knowledge of how to measure 
 it. On the contrary, he disapproved of the pursuit of 
 geometry n.p to diagrams, which puzzled the intellect ; 
 for he said that he did not see to what practical use it 
 could lead.* Albeit he himself was by no means 
 unskilled in such studies, he maintained, nevertheless, 
 that they were enough to wear out a man's life, and to 
 prevent his acquiring a knowledge of many other invalu- 
 able branches of instruction. 
 
 He advised his followers to make themselves ac- 
 quainted with astronomy also, but this only up to such 
 a point as would teach them to distinguish the various 
 periods of the night, or the month, or the year, in 
 travelling by land or sea, or when they were on guard ; 
 and whatever occupations are appropriate to any parti- 
 cular time of the month or year, to be able, by recognis- 
 ing the seasons of the above-mentioned periods, to use 
 them as signs when they ought to apply themselves 
 to their tasks. And thus much information, he said, was 
 easily acquired from those who hunted by night and 
 pilots, and from many others whose business it was to 
 be acquainted with such matters. But, from pursuing 
 the study up to such a point as to know what bodies do 
 not revolve in the same circle, the various planets, and 
 
 * This observation is made in condemnation of those philosophers 
 ■who spent their time in such studies, with a view to speculating upon 
 and discussing matters which Socrates held to be above man's powers 
 of investigation See ante, pp. 3-7.
 
 •232 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 the unnamed constellations, and from wearying them- 
 selves by investigations into their respective distances 
 from the earth, the periods of their appearance, and their 
 causes, he earnestly dissuaded them ; for he said that he 
 did not see what Avas gained by sucli studies — although 
 he was himself to a certain extent devoted to them — as 
 he maintained that they also wore out men's lives, and 
 kept them from many other useful occupations. 
 
 And as to the celestial bodies generally, he dissuaded 
 men from investigating too closely the divine economy 
 of the heavens ; foi he held that such matters were 
 beyond human ken, nor did he think that any one who 
 soiight to clear up points which the gods themselves 
 did not wish to diviilge, was acting acceptably to them. 
 He said, too, that a person Avho was over-anxious about 
 such matters ran the risk of even going out of his mind, 
 just as Anaxagoras* did, who prided himselJ" greatly upon 
 
 * A philosopher of the Ionic school, born at Clazomense, in Lydia 
 (now Kelisman), circa B.C. 500. He settled at Athens when he was 
 about twenty years of age, and gave lectures there. He enjoyed the 
 friendship of the great statesman Pericles, who is said to have defended 
 him on a charge of impiety. He was, however, fined and banished, 
 and sought refuge in Lampsacus, one of the Greek settlements in 
 Mysia, on the Asiatic side of the Hellespont (now the Dardanelles), 
 where he died B.C. 427. After his death, tlie 'nhabitants of Lampsa- 
 cus, as we learn from Diogenes Laertius, appointed a day of recreation 
 for all the youths, to be observed once a-year in honour of his memory, 
 under the name of the Anaxagoreia. The distinguishing characteristic 
 of his philosophy was that the universe was created, sustained, and 
 governed by vovs — "intellect." For further details of his life and 
 teaching, see ^'- Handbook of the History of Philosophy" by Dr Albert 
 Schwegler, translated by James Hutchison Stirling, LL.D., 1871, pp. 
 27-30 and 375-380.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 233 
 
 his ability to explain the diviDS economy. For he, when 
 he asserted that fire and the sun were identical, ignored 
 the fact that men stare into the fire without inconveni- 
 ence, but cannot even look u^wn the face of the sun ; and 
 that those who are exposed to the sun's rays are tanned 
 by them, but that fire does not produce the same efi'ect. 
 Neither did he perceive that of the productions of the 
 earth none can come to maturity without sunshine, but 
 that they all wither and perish when exposed to the 
 heat of the fire. And, again, when he asserted that the 
 sun was a fire-heated stone, he forgot this, that a stone 
 neither shines in the fire nor retains its heat for any 
 lengthened period ; whereas the sun is, and continues to 
 be, the most luminous of bodies throughout all time. 
 
 He also exhorted his disciples to learn the art of 
 reasoning ; but in this, as in all other studies, he 
 cautioned them against fruitless labour ; although up 
 to such a point as was useful, he took all matters into 
 his consideration, and investigated them with his com- 
 panions. 
 
 He likewise encouraged his associates to take great 
 care of their health, both by learning as much as they 
 could from those who knew what would preserve it, 
 and each person by studying for himself throughout 
 his life what kind of food or drink or what sort of exer- 
 cise was most adapted to him, and how by the use of 
 them he might continue in the soundest condition ; lor 
 that if a person paid thus much attention to himself, it
 
 234 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 
 
 would be a difficult matter to discover a physician who 
 could tell him better what was beneficial to his health 
 than he could himself. 
 
 But if a person desired to be helped by wisdom 
 superior to that of man, he advised him to apply him- 
 self to the study of divination,* because, he said, any 
 one who possessed a knowledge of the signs whereby 
 the gods vouchsafe indications to men in reference to 
 human affairs, could never be destitute of divine 
 counsel. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Now, if any one should imagine that, when he was 
 condemned to death by the judges for his assertion 
 that the divinity forewarned him what he should do, 
 and what he should abstain from doing, he was con- 
 victed of speaking falsely concerning the divinity.t let 
 
 * The art of divination {\i.a.VTLK-r)). See ante, pp. 2-4, for Socrates- 
 belief in its efficacy ; and for the nature- of it generally, SmitiCs 
 "Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities," sub vv. " Divinatio," 
 •' Oraculum," and " Haruspices ;" and Thirlwall's "History of 
 Greece," yol. i. pp. 204-208. Cicero also wrote a treatise, " De 
 Divinatione." 
 
 t See ante, p. 2, 3. For an account of the belief of Socrates with re- 
 gard to his dmmon and his religious tenets generally, see Thirlwall's 
 -History of Greece," vol. iv. pp. 267-270; George Grote's "Plato, 
 and other Companions of Socrates" (3 vols. 8vo, London, 1865), vols.
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TES. 235 
 
 him consider, in the first place, that he was abeady of 
 such an advanced age * that his life must have come to 
 a close, if not then, yet not very long after. Secondly, 
 that he relinquished only the most hnrdensome por- 
 tion of life, in which all men feel their mental faculties 
 impaired ; whereas he acquired additional glory by ex- 
 hibiting the power of his mind in pleading his own 
 cause more truthfully, independently, and fairly than 
 any other individual would have done, and in submit- 
 ting to his sentence of death with the greatest resigna- 
 tion and fortitude. 
 
 It is indeed generally admitted that no one ever met 
 his fate in a nobler manner ; for he was compelled to 
 live for thirty days after his condemnation, on account 
 of the sentence having been passed diu-ing the month of 
 the Delian festival,t and, by law, no one might be 
 publicly executed until the return of the sacred ex- 
 pedition from Delos. During the whole of this period 
 he was openly seen by all his acquaintances, passing his 
 time in every respect according to his usual wont, 
 although he had always been previously remarkable, 
 
 j. pp. 310, 436, iii. p. 433 et alihi ; and "Handbook of the History of 
 Philosophy," translated from the German of Dr Albert Schwegler, by 
 James Hutchison Stirling, LL.D., pp 46-49 et alibi. 
 
 * Socrates was in his seventy first year at the time of his death. 
 
 t Cf. ante, p. 119. The Delian festivals were held in the Athenian 
 month Thargelion (May), and were divided into the "greater" and the 
 '■ less." The former took place every fifth year, and the latter annually, 
 and it was during their celebration that the city of Athens was purified, 
 and no crimij-al was allowed to be put to death.
 
 236 MEMOIRS OF SO OR A TES. 
 
 above all other men, for the cheerful and easy manner 
 of his life. And how could anybody have died more 
 nobly than this ? Or Avhat sort of death can be more 
 noble than that which is suffered most nobly ? And 
 what kind of death can be more happy than the noblest, 
 or what more dear to the gods than that which is hap- 
 piest 1 
 
 And I will also repeat an anecdote that was once 
 related to me concerning him by Hermogenes, the son 
 of Hipponicus, who said that after Meletus had already 
 laid the indictment against him, when he himself heard 
 him discouraing upon all manner of topics rather than 
 that of his trial, and told him that he ought to be con- 
 sidering what defence he should make, that his first 
 question was — " But do I not appear to you to have 
 been all my life turning my attention to this point ? " 
 And when Hermogenes asked him how, he said to 
 him, that he had passed all his life in. examining 
 what actions were just, and what imjust, and acting in 
 accordance with the former, while he repudiated the 
 latter ; and this he conceived to be the most careful 
 mode of preparing his defence. And the other 
 answered him thus — " Do yo;i not see, Socrates, that 
 the judges at Athens have ere now condenxaed many 
 an innocent person to death from offence taken at his 
 language, while they have allowed many who were 
 guilty to escape 1 '' " But, by Jupiter, Hermogenes," 
 replied he, " while I was already in the very act of
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 237 
 
 beginning to consider what should be the nature of my 
 defence to tlie judges, the divinity opposed my proceed- 
 ing." And he answered — " You tell a marvellous tale." 
 " Do you regard it as marvellous," asked Socrates, 
 
 " that the deity thinks it better for me that I should 
 
 now bring my life to a close ? \ Are you not aware that ^^ 
 I refuse to admit that any man has up to this present 
 time spent his existence better or more enjoy ably than 
 I have done ? For I consider that their Kves are the 
 best who study most to become as good as possible, 
 and theirs the most enjoyable who feel that they are / 
 constantly progressing in virtue. — ^ 
 
 " I am conscious that, with regard to myself, such 
 has been the case up to this very moment ; and in 
 associating with others, and viewing myself in com- 
 parison with others, I have constantly continued to 
 come to the same conclusion respecting myself. And 
 not only I myself, but my friends also steadfastly 
 adhere to the same opinion concerning me, not because 
 they love me (for those who are in love would naturally 
 thus regard the objects of their affection), but because 
 they consider that their own characters were improved 
 by association with me. 
 
 " And if I should live any longer I shall, perhaps, 
 have to bear the penalties of old age, to lose my sight 
 and hearing, to feel my intellects impaired, to become 
 slower at learning and quicker at forgetting, and in 
 such gifts as I once excelled others, to find myself in-
 
 238 MEMOIRS OF SOCRA TEs. 
 
 ferior to them. And if, in good truth, I did not, under 
 such circumstances, notice my condition, life would be 
 worthless ; but, if I did notice it, how could I continue 
 to live otherwise than less profitably and pleasantly % 
 
 " But if I die unjustly, that ^\dll reflect disgrace upon 
 those who have kUled me unjustly ; for, granting that 
 injustice is disgraceful, how is it not a disgrace to com- 
 mit any unjust action whatever ? But what disgrace 
 will it be to me that others were incapable of either 
 deciding or acting justly in my case? And I myself 
 perceive that, with regard to men who have lived before 
 me, the judgment formed by posterity respecting those 
 who have acted wTongfully, and those who have suff"ered 
 wrong, is by ilo means similar. Hence, I know that I, 
 too, if I am now to die, shall be regarded by mankind 
 in a very different Hght from that in which those who 
 have slain me are viewed ; for I feel assured that it will 
 always, for all time, be witnessed concerning me, that I 
 have never once wronged any one, or made him a worse 
 character, but that I have ever aimed at the improve- 
 ment of those who have associated with me." This, 
 then, was the kind of discourse that he held with Her- 
 mogenes and sundry others. 
 / And of those who knew Socrates as he really was, all 
 such as are lovers of virtue feel more regret for him 
 than they do for anybody else, even up to the present 
 day, as for one who contributed in the highest degree to 
 their moral progress. And to me, most emphatically
 
 MEMOIRS OF SOCRATES. 259 
 
 (being, as I have described him, so pious, that be under- 
 took notbing witbout the counsel of the gods ; so just, 
 that be never injured any one — no, not even in the 
 slightest degree — but was of the greatest service to those 
 who associated with him ; so temperate, that be never 
 preferred pleasure to virtue ; so sensible, that he never 
 erred in distinguishing the better from the worse, with- 
 out reqidring aid from any one else, but being of himself 
 perfectly competent to discriminate between them ; so 
 capable of discoursing upon and defining such matters ; 
 and so skilled in estimating the characters of others, 
 and in convincing those that were in error, and per- 
 suading them to the pursuit of virtue and all that was 
 honourable and good), he seemed to be such an one as 
 the very best and happiest man could be. But if any 
 one is not satisfied with my opinion, let him compare 
 the characteristics of others with those of Socrates, and 
 form his judgment accordingly. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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