"Tell me, further," said Socrates, "is it not an universal law to do good to those who have done good to us?" "Yes," said Hippias, "but many offend against this law." "And they are punished for it," replied Socrates, "seeing their best friends abandon them, and that they are obliged to follow those who have an aversion for them. For are not they the best friends who do kindnesses whenever they are desired? And if he who has received a favour neglect to acknowledge it, or return it ill, does he not incur their hate by his ingratitude? And yet, finding his advantage in preserving their goodwill, is it not to them that he makes his court with most assiduity?" "It is evident," said Hippias, "that it is the gods who have ordered these things; for, when I consider that each law carries with it the punishment of the transgressor, I confess it to be the work of a more excellent legislator than man." "And do you think," said Socrates, "that the gods make laws that are unjust?" "On the contrary," answered Hippias, "it is very difficult for any but the gods to make laws that are just." "Therefore, Hippias," said Socrates, "according to the gods themselves 'to obey the laws is to be just.'"

This is what Socrates said on the subject of justice, and his actions being conformable to his words, he from day to day created a greater love of justice in the minds of those who frequented him.



CHAPTER V. OF THE MISCHIEFS OF INTEMPERANCE, AND THE ADVANTAGES OF SOBRIETY.

I will now set down the arguments that Socrates used to bring his friends to the practice of good actions, for being of opinion that temperance is a great advantage to such as desire to do anything that is excellent, he first showed them, by his way of living, that no man was more advanced than himself in the exercise of that virtue; and in his conferences he exhorted his hearers above all things to the practice of it, and his thoughts being continually employed in the means of arriving to be virtuous, he made it likewise the subject of all his discourses.

I remember that talking once with Euthydemus concerning temperance he delivered himself to this effect:—"In your opinion, Euthydemus, is liberty a very valuable thing?" "To be valued above all things," answered Euthydemus. "Do you believe that a man who is a slave to sensual pleasures, and finds himself incapable of doing good, enjoys his liberty?" "Not in the least." "You allow, then, that to do good is to be free, and that to be prevented from doing it, by any obstacle whatever, is not to be free?" "I think so," said Euthydemus. "You believe, then," said Socrates, "that debauched persons are not free?" "I do." "Do you believe likewise," continued Socrates, "that debauchery does not only hinder from doing good, but compels to do ill?" "I think it does." "What would you say, then, of a master who should hinder you from applying yourself to what is honest, and force you to undertake some infamous occupation?" "I would say he was a very wicked master," answered Euthydemus. "And which is the worst of all slaveries?" added Socrates. "To serve ill masters," said Euthydemus. "Therefore," inferred Socrates, "the debauched are in a miserable slavery." "No doubt of it." "Is it not debauchery, likewise," said Socrates, "that deprives men of their wisdom, the noblest gift of the gods, and drives them into ignorance and stupidity, and all manner of disorders? It robs them of leisure to apply themselves to things profitable, while it drowns them in sensual pleasures; and it seizes their minds to that degree that, though they often know which is the best way, they are miserably engaged in the worst." "They are so." "Nor can we expect to find temperance nor modesty in a debauched person, since the actions of temperance and debauchery are entirely opposite." "There is no doubt of it," said Euthydemus. "I do not think neither," added Socrates, "that it is possible to imagine anything that makes men neglect their duty more than debauchery." "You say true." "Is there anything more pernicious to man," said Socrates, "than that which robs him of his judgment, makes him embrace and cherish things that are hurtful, avoid and neglect what is profitable, and lead a life contrary to that of good men?" "There is nothing," said Euthydemus. Socrates went on:—"And may we not ascribe the contrary effects to temperance?" "Without doubt." "And is it not likely to be true that the cause of the contrary effects is good?" "Most certainly." "It follows, then, my dear Euthydemus," said Socrates, "that temperance is a very good thing?" "Undoubtedly it is." "But have you reflected," pursued Socrates, "that debauchery, which pretends to lead men to pleasures, cannot conduct them thither, but deceives them, leaving them in disappointment, satiety, and disgust? and have you considered that temperance and sobriety alone give us the true taste of pleasures? For it is the nature of debauchery not to endure hunger nor thirst, nor the fatigue of being long awake, nor the vehement desires of love, which, nevertheless, are the true dispositions to eat and drink with delight, and to find an exquisite pleasure in the soft approaches of sleep, and in the enjoyments of love. This is the reason that the intemperate find less satisfaction in these actions, which are necessary and frequently done. But temperance, which accustoms us to wait for the necessity, is the only thing that makes us feel an extreme pleasure in these occasions." "You are in the right," said Euthydemus. "It is this virtue, too," said Socrates, "that puts men in a condition of bringing to a state of perfection both the mind and the body, of rendering themselves capable of well governing their families, of being serviceable to their friends and their country, and of overcoming their enemies, which is not only very agreeable on account of the advantages, but very desirable likewise for the satisfaction that attends it. But the debauched know none of this, for what share can they pretend to in virtuous actions, they whose minds are wholly taken up in the pursuit of present pleasures?" "According to what you say," replied Euthydemus, "a man given to voluptuousness is unfit for any virtue." "And what difference is there," said Socrates, "between an irrational animal and a voluptuous man, who has no regard to what is best, but blindly pursues what is most delightful? It belongs to the temperate only to inquire what things are best and what not, and then, after having found out the difference by experience and reasoning, to embrace the good and avoid the bad, which renders them at once most happy, most virtuous, and most prudent."

This was the sum of this conference with Euthydemus. Now Socrates said that conferences were so called because the custom was to meet and confer together, in order to distinguish things according to their different species, and he advised the frequent holding of these conferences, because it is an exercise that improves and makes men truly great, teaches them to become excellent politicians, and ripens the judgment and understanding.



CHAPTER VI. SOCRATES' FRIENDS ATTAIN, BY FREQUENTING HIS CONVERSATION, AN EXCELLENT WAY OF REASONING.—THE METHOD HE OBSERVED IN ARGUING SHOWN IN SEVERAL INSTANCES.—OF THE DIFFERENT SORTS OF GOVERNMENT.—HOW SOCRATES DEFENDED HIS OPINIONS.

I will show, in the next place, how Socrates' friends learnt to reason so well by frequenting his conversation. He held that they who perfectly understand the nature of things can explain themselves very well concerning them, but that a man who has not that knowledge often deceives himself and others likewise. He therefore perpetually conferred with his friends without ever being weary of that exercise. It would be very difficult to relate how he defined every particular thing. I will therefore mention only what I think sufficient to show what method he observed in reasoning. And, in the first place, let us see how he argues concerning piety.

"Tell me," said he to Euthydemus, "what piety is?" "It is a very excellent thing," answered Euthydemus. "And who is a pious man?" said Socrates. "A man who serves the gods." "Is it lawful," added Socrates, "to serve the gods in what manner we please?" "By no means," said Euthydemus; "there are laws made for that purpose, which must be kept." "He, then, who keeps these laws will know how he ought to serve the gods?" "I think so." "And is it not true," continued Socrates, "that he who knows one way of serving the gods believes there is no better a way than his?" "That is certain." "And will he not be careful how he does otherwise?" "I believe he will." "He, then, who knows the laws that ought to be observed in the service of the gods, will serve them according to the laws?" "Without doubt." "But he who serves the gods as the laws direct, serves them as he ought?" "True, he does." "And he who serves the gods as he ought is pious?" "There can be no doubt of it." "Thus, then," said Socrates, "we have the true definition of a pious man: He who knows in what manner he ought to serve the gods?" "I think so," said Euthydemus.

"Tell me further," continued Socrates, "is it lawful for men to behave themselves to one another as they please?" "In nowise," answered Euthydemus; "there are also certain laws which they ought to observe among themselves." "And do they," said Socrates, "who live together according to those laws, live as they ought?" "Yes." "And do they who live as they ought live well?" "Certainly they do." "And does he who knows how to live well with men understand well how to govern his affairs?" "It is likely that he may." "Now, do you believe," said Socrates, "that some men obey the laws without knowing what the laws command?" "I do not believe it." "And when a man knows what he ought to do, do you think he believes that he ought not to do it?" "I do not think so." "And do you know any men who do otherwise than they believe they ought to do?" "None at all." "They, then, who know the laws that men ought to observe among themselves, do what those laws command?" "I believe so." "And do they who do what the laws command, do what is just?" "Most surely." "And they who do what is just are just likewise?" "None but they are so." "We may, therefore, well conclude," said Socrates, "that the just are they who know the laws that men ought to observe among themselves?" "I grant it," said Euthydemus.

"And as for wisdom," pursued Socrates, "what shall we say it is? Tell me whether are men said to be wise in regard to the things they know, or in regard to those they do not know?" "There can be no doubt," answered Euthydemus, "but that it is in consideration of what they know; for how can a man be wise in things he knows not?" "Then," said Socrates, "men are wise on account of their knowledge?" "It cannot be otherwise." "Is wisdom anything but what renders us wise?" "No." "Wisdom therefore is only knowledge?" "I think so." "And do you believe," said Socrates, "that it is in the power of a man to know everything?" "Not so much as even the hundredth part." "It is, then, impossible," said Socrates, "to find a man who is wise in all things?" "Indeed it is," said Euthydemus. "It follows, then," said Socrates, "that every man is wise in what he knows?" "I believe so."

"But can we, by this same way of comparison, judge of the nature of good?" "As how?" said Euthydemus. "Do you think," said Socrates, "that the same thing is profitable to all men?" "By no means." "Do you believe that the same thing may be profitable to one and hurtful to another?" "I think it may." "Then is it not the good that is profitable?" "Yes, certainly." "Therefore, 'what is profitable is a good to him to whom it is profitable.'" "That is true."

"Is it not the same with what is beautiful? For, can you say that a body or a vessel is beautiful and proper for all the world?" "By no means." "You will say, then, that it is beautiful in regard to the thing for which it is proper?" "Yes." "But tell me whether what is reputed beautiful for one thing has the same relation to another as to that to which it is proper?" "No." "Then 'whatever is of any use is reputed beautiful in regard to the thing to which that use relates?'" "I think so."

"And what say you of courage?" added Socrates. "Is it an excellent thing?" "Very excellent," answered Euthydemus. "But do you believe it to be of use in occasions of little moment?" "Yes; but it is necessary in great affairs." "Do you think it of great advantage in dangers," continued Socrates, "not to perceive the peril we are in?" "I am not of that opinion." "At that rate," said Socrates, "they who are not frightened because they see not the danger are in nowise valiant." "There is no doubt of it," said Euthydemus, "for otherwise there would be some fools, and even cowards, who must be accounted brave." "And what are they who fear what is not to be feared?" "They are less brave than the others," answered Euthydemus. "They therefore," said Socrates, "who show themselves valiant in dangerous occasions, are they whom you call brave; and they who behave themselves in them unworthily, are they whom you call cowards?" "Very right." "Do you think," added Socrates, "that any men are valiant in such occasions except they who know how to behave themselves in them?" "I do not think there are." "And are not they, who behave themselves unworthily, the same as they who know not how to behave themselves?" "I believe they are." "And does not every man behave himself as he believes he ought to do?" "Without doubt." "Shall we say, then, that they who behave themselves ill know how they ought to behave themselves?" "By no means." "They, therefore, who know how to behave themselves, are they who behave themselves well?" "They and no others." "Let us conclude, then," said Socrates, "that they who know how to behave themselves well in dangers and difficult occasions are the brave, and that they who know not how to do so are the cowards." "That is my opinion," said Euthydemus.

Socrates was wont to say, that a kingly government and a tyrannical government were indeed two sorts of monarchy, and that there was this difference between them; that, under a kingly government, the subjects obeyed willingly, and that everything was done according to the laws of the State; but that, under a tyrannical government, the people obeyed by force, and that all the laws were reduced to the sole will of the sovereign.

Concerning the other sorts of government, he said: That when the offices of a Republic are given to the good citizens, this sort of State was called aristocracy, or government of good men; when, on the contrary, the magistrates were chosen according to their revenues, it was called a plutocracy, or government of the rich; and when all the people are admitted, without distinction, to bear employments, it is a democracy, or popular government.

If any one opposed the opinion of Socrates, on any affair whatever, without giving a convincing reason, his custom was to bring back the discourse to the first proposition, and to begin by that to search for the truth. For example: if Socrates had commended any particular person, and any stander-by had named another, and pretended that he was more valiant, or more experienced in affairs, he would have defended his opinion in the following manner:—

"You pretend," would he have said, "that he of whom you speak is a better citizen than the person whom I was praising. Let us consider what is the duty of a good citizen, and what man is most esteemed in a Republic. Will you not grant me, that in relation to the management of the public revenue, he is in the highest esteem who, while he has that office, saves the Republic most money? In regard to the war, it is he who gains most victories over the enemies. If we are to enter into a treaty with other States, it is he who can dexterously win over to the party of the Republic those who before opposed its interests. If we are to have regard to what passes in the assemblies of the people, it is he who breaks the cabals, who appeases the seditious, who maintains concord and unity among the citizens." This being granted him, he applied these general rules to the dispute in question, and made the truth plainly appear, even to the eyes of those who contradicted him. As for himself, when he undertook to discourse of anything, he always began by the most common and universally received propositions, and was wont to say, that the strength of the argumentation consisted in so doing. And, indeed, of all the men I have ever seen, I know none who could so easily bring others to own the truth of what he had a mind to prove to them. And he said that Homer, speaking of Ulysses, called him "the certain or never- failing orator," because he had the art of supporting his arguments upon principles that were acknowledged by all men.



CHAPTER VII. METHOD TO BE OBSERVED IN STUDY.—ARTS AND SCIENCES NO FURTHER USEFUL, THAN THEY CONTRIBUTE TO RENDER MEN WISER, BETTER, OR HAPPIER.—VAIN AND UNPROFITABLE KNOWLEDGE TO BE REJECTED.

I presume now, that what I have said has been a sufficient evidence of the frankness and sincerity with which Socrates conversed with his friends, and made known his opinions to them. It remains now that I should say something of the extreme care Socrates showed for the advancement of his friends, and how much he had at heart that they might not be ignorant of anything that could be useful to them, to the end they might not want the assistance of others in their own affairs. For this reason, he applied himself to examine in what each of them was knowing; then, if he thought it in his power to teach them anything that an honest and worthy man ought to know, he taught them such things with incredible readiness and affection; if not, he carried them himself to masters who were able to instruct them. But he resolved within himself how far a person who was well-educated in his studies ought to learn everything.

Thus for geometry he said, that we ought to know enough of it not to be imposed upon in measure when we buy or sell land, when we divide an inheritance into shares, or measure out the work of a labourer, and that it was so easy to know this, that if a man applied himself ever so little to the practice of such things, he would soon learn even the extent and circumference of the whole earth, and how to measure it; but he did not approve that a man should dive into the very bottom of this science, and puzzle his brains with I know not what figures, though he himself was expert in it, for he said he could not see what all those niceties and inventions were good for, which take up the whole life of a man, and distract him from other more necessary studies.

In like manner he was of opinion that a man should employ some time in astronomy, that he might know by the stars the hour of the night, what day of the month it is, and what season of the year we are in, in order that we might know when to relieve a sentinel in the night, and when it is best to venture out to sea, or undertake a journey, and, in short, that we might know how to do everything in its proper season. He said that all this was easily learnt by conversing with seamen, or with such as go a-hunting by night, or others who profess to know these things; but he dissuaded very much from penetrating farther into this science, as even to know what planets are not in the same declination, to explain all their different motions, to know how far distant they are from the earth, in how long time they make their revolutions, and what are their several influences, for he thought these sciences wholly useless, not that he was ignorant of them himself, but because they take up all our time, and divert us from better employments. In fine, he could not allow of a too curious inquiry into the wonderful workmanship of the Deity in the disposition of the universe, that being a secret which the mind cannot comprehend, and because it is not an action acceptable to God to endeavour to discover what He would hide from us. He held, likewise, that it was dangerous to perplex the mind with these sublime speculations, as Anaxagoras had done, who pretended to be very knowing in them, for in teaching that the sun was the same thing as fire, he does not consider that fire does not dazzle the eyes, but that it is impossible to support the splendour of the sun. He did not reflect, neither, that the sun blackens the sky, which fire does not; nor lastly, that the heat of the sun is necessary to the earth, in order to the production of trees and fruits, but that the heat of fire burns and kills them. When he said, too, that the sun was only a stone set on fire, he did not consider that a stone glitters not in the fire, and cannot last long in it without consuming, whereas the sun lasts always, and is an inexhaustible source of light.

Socrates advised, likewise, to learn arithmetic, but not to amuse ourselves with the vain curiosities of that science, having established this rule in all his studies and in all his conferences, never to go beyond what is useful.

He exhorted his friends to take care of their health, and to that purpose to consult with the learned; and to observe, besides, each in his own particular, what meat, what drink, and what exercise is best for him, and how to use them to preserve himself in health. For when a man has thus studied his own constitution, he cannot have a better physician than himself.

If any one desired to attempt or to learn things that were above the power or capacity of human nature, he advised him to apply himself to divination; for he who knows by what means the gods generally signify their mind to men, or how it is they used to give them counsel and aid, such a person never fails to obtain from the Deity all that direction and assistance that is necessary for him.



CHAPTER VIII. BEHAVIOUR OF SOCRATES FROM THE TIME OF HIS CONDEMNATION TO HIS DEATH.—HIS CHARACTER SUMMED UP IN A FEW WORDS.

To conclude: if, because Socrates was condemned to death, any one should believe that he was a liar to say that he had a good demon that guided him, and gave him instructions what he should or should not do, let him consider, in the first place, that he was arrived to such an age that if he had not died when he did, he could not have lived much longer; that by dying when he did he avoided the most toilsome part of life, in which the mind loses much of its vigour; and that in amends for it he discovered to the whole world the greatness of his soul, acquired to himself an immortal glory, by the defence he made before his judges, in behaving himself with a sincerity, courage, and probity that were indeed wonderful, and in receiving his sentence with a patience and resolution of mind never to be equalled; for it is agreed by all that no man ever suffered death with greater constancy than Socrates.

He lived thirty days after his condemnation, because the Delian feasts happened in that month, and the law forbids to put any man to death till the consecrated vessel that is sent to the Isle of Delos be come back to Athens. During that time his friends, who saw him continually, found no change in him; but that he always retained that tranquillity of mind and agreeableness of temper which before had made all the world admire him. Now, certainly no man can die with greater constancy than this; this is doubtless the most glorious death that can be imagined; but if it be the most glorious, it is the most happy; and if it be the most happy, it is the most acceptable to the Deity.

Hermogenes has told me, that being with him a little after Melitus had accused him, he observed, that he seemed to decline speaking of that affair: from whence he took occasion to tell him that it would not be amiss for him to think of what he should answer in his own justification. To which Socrates replied: "Do you believe I have done anything else all my life than think of it?" And Hermogenes asking him what he meant by saying so? Socrates told him that he had made it the whole business of his life to examine what was just and what unjust; that he had always cherished justice and hated injustice, and that he did not believe there was any better way to justify himself.

Hermogenes said further to him—"Do you not know that judges have often condemned the innocent to death, only because their answers offended them, and that, on the contrary, they have often acquitted the guilty?" "I know it very well," answered Socrates; "but I assure you, that having set myself to think what I should say to my judges, the demon that advises me dissuaded me from it." At which Hermogenes seeming surprised, Socrates said to him, "Why are you surprised that this God thinks it better for me to leave this world than to continue longer in it? Sure, you are not ignorant that I have lived as well and as pleasantly as any man, if to live well be, as I take it, to have no concern but for virtue, and if to live pleasantly be to find that we have made some progress in it. Now, I have good reason to believe that this is my happy case, that I have always had a steady regard for virtue, and made progress in it, because I perceive that my mind, at this time, doth not misgive me, nay, I have the sincere testimony of my conscience that I have done my duty; and in this belief I strengthen myself by the conversation I have had with others, and by comparing myself with them. My friends, too, have believed the same thing of me, not because they wish me well, for in that sense every friend would think as much of his friend, but because they thought they advanced in virtue by my conversation.

"If I were to live longer, perhaps I should fall into the inconveniences of old age: perhaps my sight should grow dim, my hearing fail me, my judgment become weak, and I should have more trouble to learn, more to retain what I had learnt; perhaps, too, after all, I should find myself incapable of doing the good I had done before. And if, to complete my misery, I should have no sense of my wretchedness, would not life be a burden to me? And, on the other hand, say I had a sense of it, would it not afflict me beyond measure? As things now stand, if I die innocent the shame will fall on those who are the cause of my death, since all sort of iniquity is attended with shame. But who will ever blame me because others have not confessed my innocence, nor done me justice? Past experience lets us see that they who suffer injustice, and they who commit it, leave not a like reputation behind them after their death. And thus, if I die on this occasion, I am most certain that posterity will more honour my memory than theirs who condemn me; for it will be said of me, that I never did any wrong, never gave any ill advice to any man; but that I laboured all my life long to excite to virtue those who frequented me."

This was the answer that Socrates gave to Hermogenes, and to several others. In a word, all good men who knew Socrates daily regret his loss to this very hour, reflecting on the advantage and improvement they made in his company.

For my own part, having found him to be the man I have described, that is to say, so pious as to do nothing without the advice of the Deity; so just as never to have in the least injured any man, and to have done very signal services to many; so chaste and temperate as never to have preferred delight and pleasure before modesty and honesty; so prudent as never to have mistaken in the discernment of good and evil, and never to have had need of the advice of others, to form a right judgment of either; moreover, most capable to deliberate and resolve in all sorts of affairs, most capable to examine into men, to reprehend them for their vices, and to excite them to virtue; having, I say, found all these perfections in Socrates, I have always esteemed him the most virtuous and most happy of all men; and if any one be not of my opinion, let him take the pains to compare him with other men, and judge of him afterwards.

THE END