Memorabilia

Now why do you say this to me? as if you were not free to say what you choose about me.Not so indeed: I can quote Aspasia against you. She once told me that good matchmakers are successful in making marriages only when the good reports they carry to and fro are true; false reports she would not recommend, for the victims of deception hate one another and the matchmaker too. I am convinced that this is sound, and so I think it is not open to me to say anything in your praise that I can’t say truthfully.

It appears, Socrates, that you are the sort of friend to help me if I am in any way qualified to make friends: but if not, you won’t make up a story to help me.How do you think I shall help you best, Critobulus, by false praise, or by urging you to try to be a good man?

If you don’t yet see clearly, take the following cases as illustrations. Suppose that I wanted to get a shipmaster to make you his friend, and as a recommendation told him that you are a good skipper, which is untrue; and suppose that he believed me and put you in charge of his ship in spite of your not knowing how to steer it: have you any reason to hope that you would not lose the ship and your life as well? Or suppose that I falsely represented to the Assembly that you are a born general, jurist and statesman in one, and so persuaded the state to commit her fortunes to you, what do you suppose would happen to the state and to yourself under your guidance? Or again, suppose that I falsely described you to certain citizens in private as a thrifty, careful person, and persuaded them to place their affairs in your hands, wouldn’t you do them harm and look ridiculous when you came to the test?

Nay, Critobulus, if you want to be thought good at anything, you must try to be so; that is the quickest, the surest, the best way.[*](Cyropaedia I. vi. 22.) You will find on reflection that every kind of virtue named among men is increased by study and practice. Such is the view I take of our duty, Critobulus. If you have anything to say against it, tell me.Why, Socrates, said Critobulus, I should be ashamed to contradict you, for I should be saying what is neither honourable nor true.

To pass to another subject. The distresses of his friends that arose from ignorance he tried to cure by advice, those that were due to want by telling them how to help one another according to their power. On this subject too I will state what I know about him.One day, noticing that Aristarchus looked glum, he said: Aristarchus, you seem to have a burden on your mind. You should let your friends share it; possibly we may do something to ease you.

Ah yes, Socrates, replied Aristarchus, I am in great distress. Since the revolution there has been an exodus to the Piraeus, and a crowd of my women-folk, being left behind, are come to me, — sisters, nieces and cousins, — so that we are fourteen in the house without counting the slaves. We get nothing from our land, because our enemies have seized it, and nothing from our house property, now there are so few residents in the city. Portable property finds no buyers, and it’s quite impossible to borrow money anywhere: I really think a search in the street would have better result than an application for a loan. It’s hard, Socrates, to let one’s people die, but impossible to keep so many in times like these.When Socrates heard this, he asked:

How is it that with so many mouths to feed Ceramon not only contrives to provide for the needs of himself and his family, but actually saves enough to make him a rich man, whereas you, with so many mouths to feed, fear you will all be starved to death?The explanation, of course, is this: my dependants are gentlefolk, his are slaves.

And which do you think are the better, his slaves or your gentlefolk?My gentlefolk, I think.Then is it not disgraceful that you with your gentlefolk should be in distress, while he is kept in affluence by his meaner household?Of course his dependants are artisans, while mine have had a liberal education.

What is an artisan? one who knows how to produce something useful?Certainly.Are groats useful?Yes, very.And bread?No less so.What about men’s and women’s cloaks, shirts, capes, smocks?Yes, all these things too are very useful.Then don’t the members of your household know how to make any of these?I believe they can make all of them.

Don’t you know, then, that by manufacturing one of these commodities, namely groats, Nausicydes keeps not only himself and his family, but large herds of swine and cattle as well, and has so much to spare that he often undertakes costly public duties; that Cyrebus feeds his whole family well and lives in luxury by baking bread, Demeas of Collytus by making capes, Menon by making cloaks; and most of the Megarians make a good living out of smocks?Yes, of course; for they buy foreign slaves and can force them to make what is convenient, but my household is made up of gentlefolk and relations.

And so, just because they are gentlefolk and related to you, you think they should do nothing but eat and sleep? Do you find that other gentlefolk who live this sort of life are better off and happier than those who are usefully employed in work that they understand? Or is it your experience that idleness and carelessness help men to learn what they ought to know and remember what they learn, to make themselves healthy and strong, and to get and keep things that are of practical use, but industry and carefulness are useless things?

When these women learned the work that you say they understand, did they regard it as of no practical use, and had they no intention of taking it up, or did they mean to occupy themselves in it and obtain some benefit from it? Which makes men more prudent, idleness or useful employment? Which makes men more just, work or idle discussions about supplies?

Besides, at present, I fancy, you don’t love these ladies and they don’t love you: you think they are a tax on you, and they see that you feel them to be a burden. And the danger in this state of things is that dislike may grow and their former gratitude fade away; but if you exert your authority and make them work, you will love them, when you find that they are profitable to you, and they will be fond of you, when they feel that you are pleased with them. Both you and they will like to recall past kindnesses and will strengthen the feeling of gratitude that these engender; thus you will be better friends and feel more at home.

To be sure, if they were going to do something disgraceful, death would be a better fate. But in point of fact the work they understand is, as it appears, the work considered the most honourable and the most suitable for a woman; and the work that is understood is always done with the greatest ease, speed, pride and pleasure. So do not hesitate to offer them work that will yield a return both to you and to them, and probably they will welcome your proposal.

Well, well, said Aristarchus, your advice seems so good, Socrates, that I think I shall now bring myself to borrow capital to make a start. Hitherto I have had no inclination to do so, knowing that when I had spent the loan I should not have the wherewithal to repay it.

The consequence was that capital was provided and wool purchased. The women worked during dinner and only stopped at the supper hour. There were happy instead of gloomy faces: suspicious glances were exchanged for pleasant smiles. They loved him as a guardian and he liked them because they were useful. Finally Aristarchus came to Socrates and told him this with delight. One objection they have to me, he added: I am the only member of the household who eats the bread of idleness.

Then why not tell them the story of the dog? asked Socrates. It is said that when beasts could talk, a sheep said to her master: It is strange that you give us sheep nothing but what we get from the land, though we supply you with wool and lambs and cheese, and yet you share your own food with your dog, who supplies you with none of these things. The dog heard this, and said:

Of course he does. Do not I keep you from being stolen by thieves, and carried off by wolves? Why, but for my protection you couldn’t even feed for fear of being killed. And so, they say, the sheep admitted the dog’s claim to preference. Do you then tell these women that you are their watch-dog and keeper, and it is due to you that they live and work in safety and comfort, with none to harm them.

Again, on meeting an old comrade after long absence he said: Where do you come from, Eutherus?I came home when the war ended, Socrates, and am now living here, he replied. Since we have lost our foreign property, and my father left me nothing in Attica, I am forced to settle down here now and work for my living with my hands. I think it’s better than begging, especially as I have no security to offer for a loan.

And how long will you have the strength, do you think, to earn your living by your work?Oh, not long, of course.But remember, when you get old you will have to spend money, and nobody will be willing to pay you for your labour.True.