<GetPassage xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0" xmlns="http://chs.harvard.edu/xmlns/cts">
            <request>
                <requestName>GetPassage</requestName>
                <requestUrn>urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0032.tlg002.perseus-eng2:1.6.13-1.7.3</requestUrn>
            </request>
            <reply>
                <urn>urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0032.tlg002.perseus-eng2:1.6.13-1.7.3</urn>
                <passage>
                    <TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><text xml:lang="eng"><body><div type="translation" xml:lang="eng" n="urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0032.tlg002.perseus-eng2" subtype="translation"><div type="textpart" subtype="book" n="1"><div type="textpart" subtype="chapter" n="6"><div type="textpart" subtype="section" n="13"><p><milestone unit="para" ed="P"/>To this
                                        <persName><surname>Socrates</surname></persName>
                                    replied:<milestone unit="para" ed="P"/>
                                <said direct="true">Antiphon, it is common opinion among us in
                                    regard to beauty and wisdom that there is an honourable and a
                                    shameful way of bestowing them. For to offer one’s beauty for
                                    money to all comers is called prostitution; but we think it
                                    virtuous to become friendly with a lover who is known to be a
                                    man of honour. So is it with wisdom. Those who offer it to all
                                    comers for money are known as sophists, prostitutors of wisdom,
                                    but we think that he who makes a friend of one whom he knows to
                                    be gifted by nature, and teaches him all the good he can,
                                    fulfils the duty of a citizen and a gentleman.</said></p></div><div type="textpart" subtype="section" n="14"><p><said direct="true" rend="merge">That is my own view, Antiphon.
                                    Others have a fancy for a good horse or dog or bird: my fancy,
                                    stronger even than theirs, is for good friends. And I teach them
                                    all the good I can, and recommend them to others from whom I
                                    think they will get some moral benefit. And the treasures that
                                    the wise men of old have left us in their writings I open and
                                    explore with my friends. If we come on any good thing, we
                                    extract it, and we set much store on being useful to one
                                    another.</said><milestone unit="para" ed="P"/>For my part, when
                                I heard these words fall from his lips, I judged him to be a happy
                                man himself and to be putting his hearers in the way of being
                                gentlemen.</p></div><div type="textpart" subtype="section" n="15"><p><milestone unit="para" ed="P"/>On yet another occasion Antiphon asked
                                him: <said direct="true">How can you suppose that you make
                                    politicians of others, when you yourself avoid politics even if
                                    you understand them?</said><milestone unit="para" ed="P"/><said direct="true">How now, Antiphon?</said> he retorted, <said direct="true">should I play a more important part in politics by
                                    engaging in them alone or by taking pains to turn out as many
                                    competent politicians as possible?</said>
                            </p></div></div><div type="textpart" subtype="chapter" n="7"><div type="textpart" subtype="section" n="1"><p><milestone unit="para" ed="P"/>Let us next consider whether by
                                discouraging imposture he encouraged his companions to cultivate
                                    virtue.<note resp="Loeb" anchored="true"><title>Cyropaedia</title> I. vi. 22.</note> For he always
                                said that the best road to glory is the way that makes a man as good
                                as he wishes to be thought. And this was how he demonstrated the
                                truth of this saying:</p></div><div type="textpart" subtype="section" n="2"><p><milestone unit="para" ed="P"/><said direct="true">Suppose a bad
                                    flute-player wants to be thought a good one, let us note what he
                                    must do. Must he not imitate good players in the accessories of
                                    the art? First, as they wear fine clothes and travel with many
                                    attendants, he must do the same. Further, seeing that they win
                                    the applause of crowds, he must provide himself with a large
                                    claque. But, of course, he must never accept an engagement, or
                                    he will promptly expose himself to ridicule as an incompetent
                                    player and an impostor to boot. And so, what with incurring
                                    heavy expense and gaining nothing, and bringing disgrace on
                                    himself as well, he will make his life burdensome, unprofitable
                                    and ridiculous.</said></p></div><div type="textpart" subtype="section" n="3"><p><said direct="true" rend="merge">So too if a man who is not a general
                                    or a pilot wanted to be thought a good one, let us imagine what
                                    would happen to him. If his efforts to seem proficient in these
                                    duties failed to carry conviction, would not his failure be
                                    galling to him? if they succeeded, would not his success be
                                    still more disastrous? for it is certain that if a man who knew
                                    nothing about piloting a ship or commanding an army were
                                    appointed to such work, he would lose those whom he least wanted
                                    to lose and would bring ruin and disgrace on
                                himself.</said></p></div></div></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
            </reply>
            </GetPassage>