Memorabilia

Seeing that Glaucon’s son, Charmides, was a respectable man and far more capable than the politicians of the day, and nevertheless shrank from speaking in the assembly and taking a part in politics, he said: Tell me, Charmides, what would you think of a man who was capable of gaining a victory in the great games and consequently of winning honour for himself and adding to his country’s fame in the Greek world, and yet refused to compete?I should think him a poltroon and a coward, of course.

Then if a man were to shrink from state business though capable of discharging it with advantage to the state and honour to himself, wouldn’t it be reasonable to think him a coward?Perhaps; but why ask me that?Because I fancy that you shrink from work that is within your powers, work in which it is your duty as a citizen to take a hand.What makes you think so?

In what sort of work have you discovered my powers?In your intercourse with public men. Whenever they take counsel with you, I find that you give excellent advice, and whenever they make a mistake, your criticism is sound.

A private conversation is a very different thing from a crowded debate, Socrates.But, you know, a man who is good at figures counts as well in a crowd as in solitude; and those who play the harp best in private excel no less in a crowd.

But surely you see that bashfulness and timidity come natural to a man, and affect him far more powerfully in the presence of a multitude than in private society?Yes, and I mean to give you a lesson. The wisest do not make you bashful, and the strongest do not make you timid; yet you are ashamed to address an audience of mere dunces and weaklings. Who are they that make you ashamed?

The fullers or the cobblers or the builders or the smiths or the farmers or the merchants, or the traffickers in the market-place who think of nothing but buying cheap and selling dear? For these are the people who make up the Assembly.

You behave like a man who can beat trained athletes and is afraid of amateurs! You are at your ease when you talk with the first men in the state, some of whom despise you, and you are a far better talker than the ordinary run of politicians; and yet you are shy of addressing men who never gave a thought to public affairs and haven’t learnt to despise you — all because you fear ridicule!

Well, don’t you think the Assembly often laughs at sound argument?Yes, and so do the others; and that’s why I am surprised that you, who find it easy to manage them when they do it, think you will be quite unable to deal with the Assembly.

My good man, don’t be ignorant of yourself: don’t fall into the common error. For so many are in such a hurry to pry into other people’s business that they never turn aside to examine themselves. Don’t refuse to face this duty then: strive more earnestly to pay heed to yourself; and don’t neglect public affairs, if you have the power to improve them. If they go well, not only the people, but your friends and you yourself at least as much as they will profit.

When Aristippus attempted to cross-examine Socrates in the same fashion as he had been cross-examined by him in their previous encounter, Socrates, wishing to benefit his companions, answered like a man who is resolved to do what is right, and not like a debater guarding against any distortion of the argument.

Aristippus asked if he knew of anything good, in order that if Socrates mentioned some good thing, such as food, drink, money, health, strength, or daring, he might show that it is sometimes bad. But he, knowing that when anything troubles us we need what will put an end to the trouble, gave the best answer:

Are you asking me, he said, whether I know of anything good for a fever?No, not that.For ophthalmia?No, nor that.For hunger?No, not for hunger either.Well, but if you are asking me whether I know of anything good in relation to nothing, I neither know nor want to know.

Again Aristippus asked him whether he knew of anything beautiful: Yes, many things, he replied.All like one another?On the contrary, some are as unlike as they can be.How then can that which is unlike the beautiful be beautiful?The reason, of course, is that a beautiful wrestler is unlike a beautiful runner, a shield beautiful for defence is utterly unlike a javelin beautiful for swift and powerful hurling.

That is the same answer as you gave to my question whether you knew of anything good.You think, do you, that good is one thing and beautiful another? Don’t you know that all things are both beautiful and good in relation to the same things? In the first place, Virtue is not a good thing in relation to some things and a beautiful thing in relation to others. Men, again, are called beautiful and good in the same respect and in relation to the same things: it is in relation to the same things that men’s bodies look beautiful and good and that all other things men use are thought beautiful and good, namely, in relation to those things for which they are useful.

Is a dung basket beautiful then?Of course, and a golden shield is ugly, if the one is well made for its special work and the other badly.Do you mean that the same things are both beautiful and ugly?Of course — and both good and bad.

For what is good for hunger is often bad for fever, and what is good for fever bad for hunger; what is beautiful for running is often ugly for wrestling, and what is beautiful for wrestling ugly for running. For all things are good and beautiful in relation to those purposes for which they are well adapted, bad and ugly in relation to those for which they are ill adapted.

Again his dictum about houses, that the same house is both beautiful and useful, was a lesson in the art of building houses as they ought to be.He approached the problem thus:When one means to have the right sort of house, must he contrive to make it as pleasant to live in and as useful as can be?

And this being admitted, Is it pleasant, he asked, to have it cool in summer and warm in winter?And when they agreed with this also, Now in houses with a south aspect, the sun’s rays penetrate into the porticoes in winter, but in summer the path of the sun is right over our heads and above the roof, so that there is shade. If, then, this is the best arrangement, we should build the south side loftier to get the winter sun and the north side lower to keep out the cold winds.