De Garrulitate

Plutarch

Plutarch. Moralia, Vol. VI. Helmbold, William Clark, translator. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1939 (printing).

This charming essay, by far the best in the volume, suffers from only one defect, its length. Though Plutarch again and again, by his narrative skill and naïve or unconscious humour, will delight even those who have hardened their hearts against him (I mean his editors), he cannot at last resist the temptation to indulge in what he considered scientific analysis and enlightened exhortation. He is then merely dull. But, taken as a whole, the essay is surely a success, and as organic and skilful a performance as any in the Moralia.

The work was written after De Curiositate and before De Tranquillitate, De Capienda ex Inimicis Utilitate, and De Laude Ipsius.[*](I have thus combined the conclusions of Pohlenz, Brokate, and Hein.) It stands in the Lamprias catalogue as No. 92.[*](Mr C. B. Robinson’s translation, or paraphrase, of this and several other essays in this volume, arrived too late to be of service (see Plutarch, Selected Essays, Putnam, New York, 1937).)

It is a troublesome and difficult task that philosophy has in hand when it undertakes to cure garrulousness. For the remedy, words of reason, requires listeners; but the garrulous listen to nobody, for they are always talking. And this is the first symptom of their ailment: looseness of the tongue becomes impotence of the ears.[*](It suits Plutarch’s humour in this passage, in which he speaks of garrulity as a disease, to invent one, and possibly two, pseudo-medical terms, ἀσιγησία, inability to keep silent, and ἀνηκοΐα, inability to listen. The figure is maintained in διαρρέουσι at the end of section d. Rouse suggests: And here is the first bad symptom in diarrhoea of the tongue - constipation of the ears.) For it is a deliberate deafness, that of men who, I take it, blame Nature because they have only one tongue, but two ears.b If, then, Euripides[*](Cf.Moralia, 39 b; von Arnim, Stoic. Vet. Frag., i. p. 68, Zeno, Frag. 310.) was right when he said with reference to the unintelligent hearer,

  1. I could not fill a man who will not hold
  2. My wise words flooding into unwise ears,
it would be more just to say to the garrulous man, or rather about the garrulous man,
  1. I could not fill a man who will not take
  2. My wise words flooding into unwise ears,
or rather submerging, a man who talks to those
who will not listen, and will not listen when others talk. For even if he does listen for a moment, when his loquacity is, as it were, at ebb, the rising tide immediately makes up for it many times over.

They give the name of Seven-voiced[*](A portico on the east side of the Altis; Cf. Pausanias, v. 21. 17, Pliny, Natural History, xxxvi. 15. 100.) to the portico at Olympia which reverberates many times from a single utterance; and if but the least word sets garrulousness in motion, straightway it echoes round about on all sides,

Touching the heart-strings never touched before.[*](Cf. 456 c, 501 a, supra.)
Indeed one might think that babbler’s ears have no passage bored through[*](Cf. Aristophanes, Thesm., 18: δίκην δὲ χοάνης ὦτα διετετρήνατο.) to the soul, but only to the tongue.[*](Cf. Philoxenus in Gnomologium Vaticanum, 547 (Wiener Stud., xi. 234).) Consequently, while others retain what is said, in talkative persons it goes right through in a flux; then they go about like empty vessels,[*](Cf. the proverb: Empty vessels make the loudest noise.) void of sense, but full of noise.

But if, however, we are resolved to leave no means untried, let us say to the babbler,

Hush, child: in silence many virtues lie,[*](Nauck, Trag. Graec. Frag. 2, p. 147, Sophocles, Frag. 78 (Frag. 81 ed. Pearson, vol. i. p. 50), from the Aleadae.)
and among them the two first and greatest, the merits of hearing and being heard; neither of these can happen to talkative persons, but even in that which they desire especially they fail miserably. For in other diseases of the soul,[*](Cf. 519 d, infra.) such as love of money, love of glory, love of pleasure, there is at least the possibility of attaining their desires, but for babblers this is very difficult: they desire listeners and cannot
get them, since every one runs away headlong. If men are sitting in a public lounge or strolling about in a portico, and see a talker coming up, they quickly give each other the counter-sign to break camp. And just as when silence occurs in an assemblage they say that Hermes has joined the company, so when a chatterbox comes into a dinner-party or social gathering, every one grows silent, not wishing to furnish him a hold; and if he begins of his own accord to open his mouth,
As when the North-wind blows along A sea-beaten headland before the storm,[*](Cf. 455 a, supra.)
suspecting that they will be tossed about and sea-sick, they rise up and go out. And so it is a talker’s lot when travelling by land or sea, to find volunteer listeners neither as table-companions nor as tentmates, but only conscripts; for the talker is at you everywhere, catching your cloak, plucking your beard, digging you in the ribs.
Then are your feet of the greatest value,
as Archilochus[*](Edmonds, Elegy and Iambus, ii. p. 182, Frag. 132.) says, and on my word the wise Aristotle will agree. For when Aristotle himself was annoyed by a chatterer and bored with some silly stories, and the fellow kept repeating, Isn’t it wonderful, Aristotle? There’s nothing wonderful about that, said Aristotle, but that anyone with feet endures you. To another man of the same sort, who said after a long rigmarole, Poor philosopher, I’ve wearied you with my talk, Heavens, no! said Aristotle, I wasn’t listening. In fact,
if chatterers force their talk upon us, the soul surrenders to them the ears to be flooded from outside, but herself within unrolls thoughts of another sort and follows them out by herself. Therefore talkers do not find it easy to secure listeners who either pay attention or believe what they say; for just as they affirm that the seed of persons too prone to lusts of the flesh is barren, so is the speech of babblers ineffectual and fruitless.[*](Cf.Life of Lycurgus, xix. (51 e-f).)

And yet Nature has built about none of our parts so stout a stockade as about the tongue,[*](Cf.Commentarii in Hesiodum, 71 (Bernardakis, vol. vii. pp. 87-88).) having placed before it as an outpost the teeth, so that when reason within tightens the reins of silence,[*](Homer, Il., v. 226; σιγαλόεντα, of course, means glossy or shining, but here it is probably used as a playful pun on σιγή.) if the tongue does not obey or restrain itself, we may check its incontinence by biting it till it bleeds. For Euripides[*](Adapted from Bacchae, 386, 388.) says that disaster is the end, not of unbolted treasuries or storerooms, but of unbridled tongues. And those who believe that storerooms without doors and purses without fastenings are of no use to their owners, yet keep their mouths without lock or door, maintaining as perpetual an outflow as the mouth of the Black Sea, appear to regard speech as the least valuable of all things. They do not, therefore, meet with belief,[*](Cf. 519 d, infra.) which is the object of all speech. For this is the proper end and aim of speech, to engender belief in the hearer; but chatterers are disbelieved even if they are telling the truth. For as wheat shut up in a jar[*](Or a pit, perhaps; Cf.Moralia, 697 d.) is found to have increased in quantity, but to have deteriorated

in quality, so when a story finds its way to a chatterer, it generates a large addition of falsehood and thereby destroys its credit.