Memorabilia

Granted! but when we have found a man who seems worthy of our friendship, how are we to set about making him our friend?First we should seek guidance from the gods, whether they counsel us to make a friend of him.And next? Supposing that we have chosen and the gods approve him, can you say how is he to be hunted?

Surely not like a hare by swift pursuit, nor like birds by cunning, nor like enemies[*](Or κάπροι, boars.) by force. It is no light task to capture a friend against his will, and hard to keep him a prisoner like a slave. Hatred, rather than friendship, comes of that treatment.

But how does friendship come?There are spells, they say, wherewith those who know charm whom they will and make friends of them, and drugs which those who know give to whom they choose and win their love.

How then can we learn them?You have heard from Homer the spell that the Sirens put on Odysseus. It begins like this:

1. Hither, come hither, renowned Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans.

No, only for those that yearned for the fame that virtue gives.You mean, I take it, that the spell must be fitted to the listener, so that he may not take the praise for mockery.Yes; for to praise one for his beauty, his stature and his strength who is conscious that he is short, ugly and puny, is the way to repel him and make him dislike you more.Do you know any other spells?

No, but I have heard that Pericles knew many and put them on the city, and so made her love him.And how did Themistocles make the city love him?Not by spells: no, no; but by hanging some good amulet about her.[*](i.e., not by his words, but by protecting Athens with ships and fortifications.)

I think you mean, Socrates, that if we are to win a good man’s friendship, we ourselves must be good in word and deed alike?But you imagined that a bad man could win the friendship of honest men?

I did, answered Critobulus, for I saw that poor orators have good speakers among their friends, and some who are incapable of commanding an army are intimate with great generals.

Coming then to the point under discussion, do you know cases of useless persons making useful friends?Assuredly not; but if it is impossible that the bad should gain the friendship of gentlemen, then I am anxious to know whether it is quite easy for a gentleman as a matter of course to be the friend of gentlemen?

Your trouble is, Critobulus, that you often find men who do good and shun evil not on friendly terms, but apt to quarrel and treat one another more harshly than worthless fellows.

Yes, said Critobulus, and such conduct is not confined to individuals, but even the cities that care most for the right and have least liking for the wrong are often at enmity.

These thoughts make me despair about the acquisition of friends. For I see on the one hand that rogues cannot be friends with one another — for how could the ungrateful, the careless, the selfish, the faithless, the incontinent, form friendships? I feel sure, then, that rogues are by their nature enemies rather than friends.

But then, as you point out, neither can rogues ever join in friendship with honest men, for how can wrongdoers become friendly with those who hate their conduct? And if we must add that the votaries of virtue strive with one another for headship in cities, and envy and hate one another, who then will be friends and where shall loyalty and faithfulness be found?

Ah, Critobulus, but there is a strange complication in these matters. Some elements in man’s nature make for friendship: men need one another, feel pity, work together for their common good, and, conscious of the facts, are grateful to one another. But there are hostile elements in men. For, holding the same things to be honourable and pleasant, they fight for them, fall out and take sides. Strife and anger lead to hostility, covetousness to enmity, jealousy to hatred.

Nevertheless through all these barriers friendship slips, and unites the gentle natures. For thanks to their virtue these prize the untroubled security of moderate possessions above sovereignty won by war; despite hunger and thirst, they can share their food and drink without a pang; and although they delight in the charms of beauty they can resist the lure and avoid offending those whom they should respect;

they can not only share wealth lawfully and keep from covetousness, but also supply one another’s wants; they can compose strife not only without pain, but with advantage to one another, and prevent anger from pursuing its way towards remorse: but jealousy they take away utterly, regarding their own good things as belonging to their friends, and thinking their friend’s good things to be their own.

Surely, then, it is likely that true gentlemen will share public honours too not only without harm to one another, but to their common benefit? For those who desire to win honour and to bear rule in their cities that they may have power to embezzle, to treat others with violence, to live in luxury, are bound to be unjust, unscrupulous, incapable of unity.

But if a man seeks to be honoured in a state that he may not be the victim of injustice himself and may help his friends in a just cause, and when he takes office may try to do some good to his country, why should he be incapable of union with one like himself? Will his connexion with other gentlemen render him less capable of serving his friends? Will he be less able to benefit his city with the help of other gentlemen?

Even in the public games it is clear that, if the strongest competitors were allowed to join forces against the weaker, they would win all the events, they would carry off all the prizes. True, that is not permitted in the games; but in politics, where the gentlemen are the strongest, nobody prevents anyone from forming any combination he may choose for the benefit of the state; surely, then, in public life it is a gain to make friends with the best, and to see in them partners and fellow-workers in a common cause, and not rivals.