(2) The Stoics also, whom he mentions too, say not well that the Deity, being a body, pervades the vilest matter. He calls the jugglery of logic "the tradition of men." Wherefore also he adds, "Avoid juvenile questions. For such contentions are puerile." "But virtue is no lover of boys," says the philosopher Plato. And our struggle, accOrding to Gorgias Leontinus, requires two virtues - boldness and wisdom, - boldness to undergo danger, and wisdom to understand the enigma.

(4) For ofttimes it befalleth that lacking of knowing is cause of much pride as me thinketh. For peradventure an thou knewest not which were perfect meekness, thou shouldest ween when thou hadst a little knowing and a feeling of this that I call imperfect meekness, that thou hadst almost gotten perfect meekness: and so shouldest thou deceive thyself, and ween that thou wert full meek when thou wert all belapped in foul stinking pride. And therefore try for to travail about perfect meekness; for the condition of it is such, that whoso hath it, and the whiles he hath it, he shall not sin, nor yet much after.

(499) change their minds, if, not in an aggressive spirit, but gently and with the view of soothing them and removing their dislike of over-education, you show them your philosophers as they really are and describe as you were just now doing their character and profession, and then mankind will see that he of whom you are speaking is not such as they supposed—if they view him in this new light, they will surely change their notion of him, and answer in another strain 7 . Who can be at enmity with one who loves them, who that is himself gentle and free from envy will be jealous of one in whom there is no jealousy? Nay, let me answer for you, that in a few this harsh temper may be found but not in the majority of mankind. I quite agree with you, he said. And do you not also think, as I do, that the harsh feeling which the many entertain towards philosophy originates in the pretenders, who rush in uninvited, and are always abusing them, and finding fault with them, who make persons instead of things the theme of their conversation? and nothing can be more unbecoming in philosophers than this. It is most unbecoming. For he, Adeimantus, whose mind is fixed upon true being, has surely no time to look down upon the affairs of earth, or

(5) This also is said of the Pythagoreans, that no one of them when angry, either punished a servant, or admonished any free man, but each of them waited till his mind was restored to its former [tranquil] condition. But they called to admonish , pædartan . For they accomplished this waiting by employing silence and quiet. Hence Spintharus relates of Archytas the Tarentine, that returning after a certain time from the war which the city of Tarentum waged against the Messenians, to inspect some land which belonged to him, and finding that the bailiff and the other servants, had not paid proper attention to the cultivation of it, but had greatly neglected it, being enraged, he was so indignant, that he told his servants it was well for them he was angry; since, if this had not happened, they would not have escaped the punishment due to so great an offence. Spintharus likewise says that a similar thing is related of Clinias. For he also deferred all admonitions and punishments, till his mind was restored to tranquillity.

(1) We shall however exhibit a few specimens, and those the most celebrated, of the Pythagoric discipline, and also the monuments of the studies in which those men engaged. In the first place, therefore, Pythagoras in making trial [of the aptitude of those that came to him] considered whether they could echemuthein , i. e. whether they were able to refrain from speaking (for this was the word which he used), and surveyed whether they could conceal in silence and preserve what they had learnt and heard. In the next place, he observed whether they were modest. For he was much more anxious that they should be silent than that they should speak. He likewise directed his attention to every other particular; such, as whether they were astonished by the energies of any immoderate passion or desire.

Nor did he in a superficial manner consider how they were affected with respect to anger or desire, or whether they were contentious or ambitious, or how they were disposed with reference to friendship or strife. And if on his surveying all these particulars accurately, they appeared to him to be endued with worthy manners, then he directed his attention to their facility in learning and their memory. And in the first place, indeed he considered whether they were able to follow what was said, with rapidity and perspicuity; but in the next place, whether a certain love and temperance attended them towards the disciplines which they were taught. For he surveyed how they were naturally disposed with respect to gentleness.

But he called this catartysis , i. e. elegance of manners . And he considered ferocity as hostile to such a mode of education. For impudence, shamelessness, intemperance, slothfulness, slowness in learning, unrestrained licentiousness, disgrace, and the like, are the attendants on savage manners; but the contraries on gentleness and mildness. He considered these things, therefore, in making trial of those that came to him, and in these he exercised the learners. And those that were adapted to receive the goods of the wisdom he possessed, he admitted to be his disciples, and thus endeavoured to elevate them to scientific knowledge. But if he perceived that any one of them was unadapted, he expelled him as one of another tribe, and a stranger.

(487) Here Adeimantus interposed and said: To these statements, Socrates, no one can offer a reply; but when you talk in this way, a strange feeling passes over the minds of your hearers: They fancy that they are led astray a little at each step in the argument, owing to their own want of skill in asking and answering questions; these littles accumulate, and at the end of the discussion they are found to have sustained a mighty overthrow and all their former notions appear to be turned upside down. And as unskilful players of draughts are at last shut up by their more skilful adversaries and have no piece to move, so they too find themselves shut up at last; for they have nothing to say in this new game of which words are the counters; and yet all the time they are in the right. The observation is suggested to me by what is now occurring. For any one of us might say, that although in words he is not able to meet you at each step of the argument, he sees as a fact that the votaries of philosophy, when they carry on the study, not only in youth as a part of education, but as the pursuit of their maturer years, most of them become strange monsters, not to say utter rogues, and that those who may be considered the best of them are made useless to the world by the very study which you extol. Well, and do you think that those who say so are wrong? I cannot tell, he replied; but I should like to know what is your opinion. Hear my answer; I am of opinion that they are quite right.

(5) Of the Aeneid speak I, which to me A mother was, and was my nurse in song; Without this weighed I not a drachma's weight. And to have lived upon the earth what time Virgilius lived, I would accept one sun More than I must ere issuing from my ban." These words towards me made Virgilius turn With looks that in their silence said, "Be silent!" But yet the power that wills cannot do all things; For tears and laughter are such pursuivants Unto the passion from which each springs forth, In the most truthful least the will they follow. I only smiled, as one who gives the wink; Whereat the shade was silent, and it gazed Into mine eyes, where most expression dwells; And, "As thou well mayst consummate a labour So great," it said, "why did thy face just now Display to me the lightning of a smile?" Now am I caught on this side and on that; One keeps me silent, one to speak conjures me, Wherefore I sigh, and I am understood. "Speak," said my Master, "and be not afraid Of speaking, but speak out, and say to him What he demands with such solicitude."

(34) And in order that we may see that philosophy and history, and even rhetoric, are not free of a like reproach, it is right to adduce a few instances from them. For Alcmaeon of Crotona having said, "It is easier to guard against a man who is an enemy than a friend," Sophocles wrote in the Antigone: "For what sore more grievous than a bad friend?"

(19) Socrates: and still harder in speech. Again, as to the class of Sophists, although I esteem them highly versed in many fine discourses of other kinds, yet I fear lest haply, seeing they are a class which roams from city to city and has no settled habitations of its own, they may go wide of the mark in regard to men who are at once philosophers and statesmen, and what they would be likely to do and say, in their several dealings with foemen in war and battle, both by word and deed. Thus there remains only that class which is of your complexion—

(28) When the learned man drives away vanity by earnestness, he, the wise, climbing the terraced heights of wisdom, looks down upon the fools, serene he looks upon the toiling crowd, as one that stands on a mountain looks down upon them that stand upon the plain.

(494) Falling at his feet, they will make requests to him and do him honour and flatter him, because they want to get into their hands now, the power which he will one day possess. That often happens, he said. And what will a man such as he is be likely to do under such circumstances, especially if he be a citizen of a great city, rich and noble, and a tall proper youth? Will he not be full of boundless aspirations, and fancy himself able to manage the affairs of Hellenes and of barbarians, and having got such notions into his head will he not dilate and elevate himself in the fulness of vain pomp and senseless pride? To be sure he will. Now, when he is in this state of mind, if some one gently comes to him and tells him that he is a fool and must get understanding, which can only be got by slaving for it, do you think that, under such adverse circumstances, he will be easily induced to listen? Far otherwise. And even if there be some one who through inherent goodness or natural reasonableness has had his eyes opened a little and is humbled and taken captive by philosophy, how will his friends behave when they think that they are likely to lose the advantage which they were hoping to reap from his companionship? Will they not do and say anything to prevent him from yielding to his better nature and to render his teacher powerless, using to this end private intrigues as well as public prosecutions?

(19) Be rather delighted with those that reprove, than with those that flatter you; but avoid flatterers, as worse than enemies. Pythagoras. Stob. p. 149.

(11) Wherefore those who are determined to live piously ought none the less to exhibit alacrity, when some seem to exercise compulsion on them; but much more, I think, does it become them to show eagerness, and to strive with uncommon vigour, lest, being overcome, they abandon the best and most indispensable counsels. For it does not, I think, admit of comparison, whether it be better to be a follower of the Almighty than to choose the darkness of demons. For the things which are done by us on account of others we are to do always, endeavouring to have respect to those for whose sake it is proper that they be done, regarding the gratification rendered in their case, as what is to be our rule; but the things which are done for our own sake rather than that of others, are to be done with equal earnestness, whether they are like to please certain people or not. If some indifferent things have obtained such honour as to appear worthy of adoption, though against the will of some; much more is virtue to be regarded by us as worth contending for, looking the while to nothing but what can be rightly done, whether it seem good to others or not. Well then, Epicurus, writing to Menoeceus, says, "Let not him who is young delay philosophizing, and let not the old man grow weary of philosophizing; for no one is either not of age or past age for attending to the health of his soul. And he who says that the time for philosophizing is not come or is past, is like the man who says that the time for happiness is not come or has gone. So that young s as well as old ought to philosophize: the one, in order that, while growing old, he may grow young in good things out of favour accruing from what is past; and the other, that he may be at once young and old, from want of fear for the future."

(498) At present, I said, the students of philosophy are quite young; beginning when they are hardly past childhood, they devote only the time saved from moneymaking and housekeeping to such pursuits; and even those of them who are reputed to have most of the philosophic spirit, when they come within sight of the great difficulty of the subject, I mean dialectic, take themselves off. In after life when invited by some one else, they may, perhaps, go and hear a lecture, and about this they make much ado, for philosophy is not considered by them to be their proper business: at last, when they grow old, in most cases they are extinguished more truly than Heracleitus’ sun, inasmuch as they never light up again 5 . But what ought to be their course? Just the opposite. In childhood and youth their study, and what philosophy they learn, should be suited to their tender years: during this period while they are growing up towards manhood, the chief and special care should be given to their bodies that they may have them to use in the service of philosophy; as life advances and the intellect begins to mature, let them increase the gymnastics of the soul; but when the strength of our citizens fails and is past civil and military duties, then let them range at will and engage in no serious labour, as we intend them to live happily here, and to crown this life with a similar happiness in another. How truly in earnest you are, Socrates! he said; I am sure of that; and yet most of your hearers, if I am not mistaken, are likely to be still more earnest in their opposition to you, and will never be convinced; Thrasymachus least of all. Do not make a quarrel, I said, between Thrasymachus and

(388) men to me, subdued at the hands of Patroclus the son of Menoetius 13 .’ For if, my sweet Adeimantus, our youth seriously listen to such unworthy representations of the gods, instead of laughing at them as they ought, hardly will any of them deem that he himself, being but a man, can be dishonoured by similar actions; neither will he rebuke any inclination which may arise in his mind to say and do the like. And instead of having any shame or self-control, he will be always whining and lamenting on slight occasions. Yes, he said, that is most true. Yes, I replied; but that surely is what ought not to be, as the argument has just proved to us; and by that proof we must abide until it is disproved by a better. It ought not to be. Neither ought our guardians to be given to laughter. For a fit of laughter which has been indulged to excess almost always produces a violent reaction. So I believe. Then persons of worth, even if only mortal men, must not be represented as overcome by laughter, and still less must such a representation of the gods be allowed. Still less of the gods, as you say, he replied. Then we shall not suffer such an expression to be used about the gods as that of Homer when he describes how ‘Inextinguishable laughter arose among the blessed gods, when they saw Hephaestus bustling about the mansion 14 .’ On your views, we must not admit them. On my views, if you like to father them on me; that we

(335) Then if a man says that justice consists in the repayment of debts, and that good is the debt which a just man owes to his friends, and evil the debt which he owes to his enemies,—to say this is not wise; for it is not true, if, as has been clearly shown, the injuring of another can be in no case just. I agree with you, said Polemarchus. Then you and I are prepared to take up arms against any one who attributes such a saying to Simonides or Bias or Pittacus, or any other wise man or seer? I am quite ready to do battle at your side, he said. Shall I tell you whose I believe the saying to be? Whose? I believe that Periander or Perdiccas or Xerxes or Ismenias the Theban, or some other rich and mighty man, who had a great opinion of his own power, was the first to say that justice is ‘doing good to your friends and harm to your enemies.’ Most true, he said. Yes, I said; but if this definition of justice also breaks down, what other can be offered? Several times in the course of the discussion Thrasymachus had made an attempt to get the argument into his own hands, and had been put down by the rest of the company, who wanted to hear the end. But when Polemarchus and I had done speaking and there was a pause, he could no longer hold his peace; and, gathering himself up, he came at us like a wild beast, seeking to devour us. We were quite panic-stricken at the sight of him. He roared out to the whole company: What folly, Socrates, has taken possession of you all?

(486) Another criterion of the philosophical nature has also to be considered. What is that? There should be no secret corner of illiberality; nothing can be more antagonistic than meanness to a soul which is ever longing after the whole of things both divine and human. Most true, he replied. Then how can he who has magnificence of mind and is the spectator of all time and all existence, think much of human life? He cannot. Or can such an one account death fearful? No indeed. Then the cowardly and mean nature has no part in true philosophy? Certainly not. Or again: can he who is harmoniously constituted, who is not covetous or mean, or a boaster, or a coward—can he, I say, ever be unjust or hard in his dealings? Impossible. Then you will soon observe whether a man is just and gentle, or rude and unsociable; these are the signs which distinguish even in youth the philosophical nature from the unphilosophical. True. There is another point which should be remarked. What point? Whether he has or has not a pleasure in learning; for no one will love that which gives him pain, and in which after much toil he makes little progress. Certainly not. And again, if he is forgetful and retains nothing of what he learns, will he not be an empty vessel? That is certain. Labouring in vain, he must end in hating himself and his fruitless occupation? Yes.

(503) What do you mean? he said. You are aware, I replied, that quick intelligence, memory, sagacity, cleverness, and similar qualities, do not often grow together, and that persons who possess them and are at the same time high-spirited and magnanimous are not so constituted by nature as to live orderly and in a peaceful and settled manner; they are driven any way by their impulses, and all solid principle goes out of them. Very true, he said. On the other hand, those steadfast natures which can better be depended upon, which in a battle are impregnable to fear and immovable, are equally immovable when there is anything to be learned; they are always in a torpid state, and are apt to yawn and go to sleep over any intellectual toil. Quite true. And yet we were saying that both qualities were necessary in those to whom the higher education is to be imparted, and who are to share in any office or command. Certainly, he said. And will they be a class which is rarely found? Yes, indeed. Then the aspirant must not only be tested in those labours and dangers and pleasures which we mentioned before, but there is another kind of probation which we did not mention—he must be exercised also in many kinds of knowledge, to see whether the soul will be able to endure the highest of all,

(133) Do not speak harshly to anybody; those who are spoken to will answer thee in the same way. Angry speech is painful, blows for blows will touch thee.

(2) Meekness in itself is nought else, but a true knowing and feeling of a man’s self as he is. For surely whoso might verily see and feel himself as he is, he should verily be meek. Two things there be, the which be cause of this meekness; the which be these. One is the filth, the wretchedness, and the frailty of man, into the which he is fallen by sin; and the which always him behoveth to feel in some part the whiles he liveth in this life, be he never so holy. Another is the over‑abundant love and the worthiness of God in Himself; in beholding of the which all nature quaketh, all clerks be fools, and all saints and angels be blind. Insomuch, that were it not that through the wisdom of His Godhead He measured their beholding after their ableness in nature and in grace, I defail to say what should befall them.