Memorabilia

When asked again whether Courage could be taught or came by nature, he replied: I think that just as one man’s body is naturally stronger than another’s for labour, so one man’s soul is naturally braver than another’s in danger. For I notice that men brought up under the same laws and customs differ widely in daring.

Nevertheless, I think that every man’s nature acquires more courage by learning and practice. Of course Scythians and Thracians would not dare to take bronze shield and spear and fight Lacedaemonians; and of course Lacedaemonians would not be willing to face Thracians with leather shields and javelins, nor Scythians with bows for weapons.

And similarly in all other points, I find that human beings naturally differ one from another and greatly improve by application. Hence it is clear that all men, whatever their natural gifts, the talented and the dullards alike, must learn and practise what they want to excel in.

Between Wisdom and Prudence he drew no distinction; but if a man knows and practises what is beautiful and good, knows and avoids what is base,[*](The Greek text is corrupt, but the sense is clear.) that man he judged to be both wise and prudent. When asked further whether he thought that those who know what they ought to do and yet do the opposite are at once wise and vicious, he answered: No; not so much that, as both unwise and vicious. For I think that all men have a choice between various courses, and choose and follow the one which they think conduces most to their advantage. Therefore I hold that those who follow the wrong course are neither wise nor prudent.

He said that Justice and every other form of Virtue is Wisdom. For just actions and all forms of virtuous activity are beautiful and good. He who knows the beautiful and good will never choose anything else, he who is ignorant of them cannot do them, and even if he tries, will fail. Hence the wise do what is beautiful and good, the unwise cannot and fail if they try. Therefore since just actions and all other forms of beautiful and good activity are virtuous actions, it is clear that Justice and every other form of Virtue is Wisdom.

Madness, again, according to him, was the opposite of Wisdom. Nevertheless he did not identify Ignorance with Madness; but not to know yourself, and to assume and think that you know what you do not, he put next to Madness. Most men, however, he declared, do not call those mad who err in matters that lie outside the knowledge of ordinary people: madness is the name they give to errors in matters of common knowledge.

For instance, if a man imagines himself to be so tall as to stoop when he goes through the gateways in the Wall, or so strong as to try to lift houses or to perform any other feat that everybody knows to be impossible, they say he’s mad. They don’t think a slight error implies madness, but just as they call strong desire love, so they name a great delusion madness.[*](The last sentence cannot imply that Socrates thought self-ignorance a slight error, but must be merely a further elucidation of popular nomenclature. But it comes very awkwardly here.)

Considering the nature of Envy, he found it to be a kind of pain, not, however, at a friend’s misfortune, nor at an enemy’s good fortune, but the envious are those only who are annoyed at their friends’ successes. Some expressed surprise that anyone who loves another should be pained at his success, but he reminded them that many stand in this relation towards others, that they cannot disregard them in time of trouble, but aid them in their misfortune, and yet they are pained to see them prospering. This, however, could not happen to a man of sense, but it is always the case with fools.

Considering the nature of Leisure, he said his conclusion was that almost all men do something. Even draught-players and jesters do something, but all these are at leisure, for they might[*](Or, if with Stobaeus we omit ἐξεῖναι γὰρ αὐτοῖς, have leisure to go.) go and do something better. But nobody has leisure to go from a better to a worse occupation. If anyone does so, he acts wrongly, having no leisure.[*](Or, omitting κακῶς ἔφη with Stobaeus, he does it in spite of want of leisure.)

Kings and rulers, he said, are not those who hold the sceptre, nor those who are chosen by the multitude, nor those on whom the lot falls, nor those who owe their power to force or deception; but those who know how to rule.[*](Cyropaedia, I. i. 3.)

For once it was granted that it is the business of the ruler to give orders and of the ruled to obey, he went on to show that on a ship the one who knows, rules, and the owner and all the others on board obey the one who knows: in farming the landowners, in illness the patients, in training those who are in training, in fact everybody concerned with anything that needs care, look after it themselves if they think they know how, but, if not, they obey those who know, and not only when such are present, but they even send for them when absent, that they may obey them and do the right thing. In spinning wool, again, he would point out, the women govern the men because they know how to do it and men do not.

If anyone objected that a despot may refuse to obey a good counsellor, How can he refuse, he would ask, when a penalty waits on disregard of good counsel? All disregard of good counsel is bound surely to result in error, and his error will not go unpunished.

If anyone said that a despot can kill a loyal subject, Do you think, he retorted, that he who kills the best of his allies suffers no loss, or that his loss is trifling? Do you think that this conduct brings him safety, or rather swift destruction?

When someone asked him what seemed to him the best pursuit for a man, he answered: Doing well. Questioned further, whether he thought good luck a pursuit, he said: On the contrary, I think luck and doing are opposite poles. To hit on something right by luck without search I call good luck, to do something well after study and practice I call doing well; and those who pursue this seem to me to do well.

And the best men and dearest to the gods, he added, are those who do their work well; if it is farming, as good farmers; if medicine, as good doctors; if politics, as good politicians. He who does nothing well is neither useful in any way nor dear to the gods.

Then again, whenever he talked with artists who followed their art as a business, he was as useful to them as to others.Thus, on entering the house of Parrhasius the painter one day, he asked in the course of a conversation with him: Is painting a representation of things seen, Parrhasius? Anyhow, you painters with your colours represent and reproduce figures high and low, in light and in shadow, hard and soft, rough and smooth, young and old.True.

And further, when you copy types of beauty, it is so difficult to find a perfect model that you combine the most beautiful details of several, and thus contrive to make the whole figure look beautiful.

Yes, we do!Well now, do you also reproduce the character of the soul, the character that is in the highest degree captivating, delightful, friendly, fascinating, lovable? Or is it impossible to imitate that?Oh no, Socrates; for how could one imitate that which has neither shape nor colour nor any of the qualities you mentioned just now, and is not even visible?

Do human beings commonly express the feelings of sympathy and aversion by their looks?I think so.Then cannot thus much be imitated in the eyes?Undoubtedly.Do you think that the joys and sorrows of their friends produce the same expression on men’s faces, whether they really care or not?Oh no, of course not: they look radiant at their joys, downcast at their sorrows.Then is it possible to represent these looks too?Undoubtedly.

Moreover, nobility and dignity, self-abasement and servility, prudence and understanding, insolence and vulgarity, are reflected in the face and in the attitudes of the body whether still or in motion.True.Then these, too, can be imitated, can they not?Undoubtedly.Now which do you think the more pleasing sight, one whose features and bearing reflect a beautiful and good and lovable character, or one who is the embodiment of what is ugly and depraved and hateful?No doubt there is a great difference, Socrates.