Chapter XXII: Part 22

_Soc._ Oh no, my friend, I am quite wrong, and I think that
you ought rather to turn your attention to Midias the quail-breeder
and others like him, who manage our politics; in
whom, as the women would remark, you may still see the
slaves’ cut of hair, cropping out in their minds as well as
on their pates; and they come with their barbarous lingo to
flatter us and not to rule us. To these, I say, you should
look, and then you need not trouble yourself about your own
fitness to contend in such a noble arena: there is no reason
why you should either learn what has to be learned, or
practise what has to be practised, and only when thoroughly
prepared enter on a political career.

_Al._ There, I think, Socrates, that you are right; I do not
suppose, however, that the Spartan generals or the great
king are really different from anybody else.

_Soc._ But, my dear friend, do consider what you are saying.

_Al._ What am I to consider?

_Soc._ In the first place, will you be more likely to take care
of yourself, if you are in a wholesome fear and dread of them,
or if you are not?

_Al._ Clearly, if I have such a fear of them.

_Soc._ And do you think that you will sustain any injury if
you take care of yourself?

_Al._ No, I shall be greatly benefited.

_Soc._ And this is one very important respect in which that
notion of yours is bad.

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ In the next place, consider that what you say is
probably false.

_Al._ How so?

_Soc._ Let me ask you whether better natures are likely to
be found in noble races or not in noble races?

_Al._ Clearly in noble races.

_Soc._ Are not those who are well born and well bred most
likely to be perfect in virtue?

_Al._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: We too have our pride of birth, but how inferior are we to those who are descended from Zeus through a line of kings!]

_Soc._ Then let us compare our antecedents with those of
the Lacedaemonian and Persian kings; are they inferior to
us in descent? Have we not heard that the former are
sprung from Heracles, and the latter from Achaemenes, and
that the race of Heracles and the race of Achaemenes go
back to Perseus, son of Zeus?

_Al._ Why, so does mine go back to Eurysaces, and he to 121
Zeus!

[Sidenote: _The education of the Persian princes._]

[Sidenote: The wealth and dignity of the Spartan kings is great, but it is as nothing compared with that of the Persians.]

_Soc._ And mine, noble Alcibiades, to Daedalus, and he
to Hephaestus, son of Zeus. But, for all that, we are far
inferior to them. For they are descended ‘from Zeus,’
through a line of kings—either kings of Argos and Lacedaemon,
or kings of Persia, a country which the descendants
of Achaemenes have always possessed, besides being at
various times sovereigns of Asia, as they now are; whereas,
we and our fathers were but private persons. How ridiculous
would you be thought if you were to make a display of your
ancestors and of Salamis the island of Eurysaces, or of
Aegina, the habitation of the still more ancient Aeacus,
before Artaxerxes, son of Xerxes. You should consider
how inferior we are to them both in the derivation of our
birth and in other particulars. Did you never observe how
great is the property of the Spartan kings? And their
wives are under the guardianship of the Ephori, who are
public officers and watch over them, in order to preserve as
far as possible the purity of the Heracleid blood. Still
greater is the difference among the Persians; for no one
entertains a suspicion that the father of a prince of Persia
can be any one but the king. Such is the awe which invests
the person of the queen, that any other guard is needless.
And when the heir of the kingdom is born, all the subjects
of the king feast; and the day of his birth is for ever afterwards
kept as a holiday and time of sacrifice by all Asia;
whereas, when you and I were born, Alcibiades, as the
comic poet says, the neighbours hardly knew of the important
event. After the birth of the royal child, he is
tended, not by a good-for-nothing woman-nurse, but by the
best of the royal eunuchs, who are charged with the care of
him, and especially with the fashioning and right formation
of his limbs, in order that he may be as shapely as possible;
which being their calling, they are held in great honour.

[Sidenote: The birth of the Persian princes is a world-famous event, and the utmost pains is taken with their education, which is entrusted to great and noble persons.]

[Sidenote: _The wealth of the Spartans._]

[Sidenote: When Alcibiades was born nobody knew or cared, and his education was handed over to a worn-out slave of his guardian’s.]

[Sidenote: _The great inferiority of Alcibiades._]

[Sidenote: The country called the ‘queen’s girdle,’ the ‘queen’s veil,’ and the like.]

[Sidenote: The queen of Persia or of Sparta, if they heard that a youth of twenty, without resources and without education, was going to attack their son or husband, would deem him mad.]

And when the young prince is seven years old he is put
upon a horse and taken to the riding-masters, and begins to
go out hunting. And at fourteen years of age he is handed
over to the royal schoolmasters, as they are termed: these
are four chosen men, reputed to be the best among the
Persians of a certain age; and one of them is the wisest,
another the justest, a third the most temperate, and a fourth
the most valiant. The first instructs him in the magianism
of Zoroaster, the son of Oromasus, which is the worship of 122
the Gods, and teaches him also the duties of his royal office;
the second, who is the justest, teaches him always to speak
the truth; the third, or most temperate, forbids him to allow
any pleasure to be lord over him, that he may be accustomed
to be a freeman and king indeed,—lord of himself first, and
not a slave; the most valiant trains him to be bold and
fearless, telling him that if he fears he is to deem himself a
slave; whereas Pericles gave you, Alcibiades, for a tutor
Zopyrus the Thracian, a slave of his who was past all other
work. I might enlarge on the nurture and education of
your rivals, but that would be tedious; and what I have said
is a sufficient sample of what remains to be said. I have
only to remark, by way of contrast, that no one cares about
your birth or nurture or education, or, I may say, about that
of any other Athenian, unless he has a lover who looks after
him. And if you cast an eye on the wealth, the luxury, the
garments with their flowing trains, the anointings with
myrrh, the multitudes of attendants, and all the other
bravery of the Persians, you will be ashamed when you
discern your own inferiority; or if you look at the temperance
and orderliness and ease and grace and magnanimity
and courage and endurance and love of toil and desire of
glory and ambition of the Lacedaemonians—in all these
respects you will see that you are but a child in comparison
of them. Even in the matter of wealth, if you value yourself
upon that, I must reveal to you how you stand; for if you
form an estimate of the wealth of the Lacedaemonians, you
will see that our possessions fall far short of theirs. For no
one here can compete with them either in the extent and
fertility of their own and the Messenian territory, or in the
number of their slaves, and especially of the Helots, or of
their horses, or of the animals which feed on the Messenian
pastures. But I have said enough of this: and as to gold
and silver, there is more of them in Lacedaemon than in all
the rest of Hellas, for during many generations gold has
been always flowing in to them from the whole Hellenic
world, and often from the barbarian also, and never going
out, as in the fable of Aesop the fox, said to the lion, ‘The 123
prints of the feet of those going in are distinct enough;’ but
who ever saw the trace of money going out of Lacedaemon?
and therefore you may safely infer that the inhabitants are
the richest of the Hellenes in gold and silver, and that their
kings are the richest of them, for they have a larger share of
these things, and they have also a tribute paid to them which
is very considerable. Yet the Spartan wealth, though great
in comparison of the wealth of the other Hellenes, is as
nothing in comparison of that of the Persians and their
kings. Why, I have been informed by a credible person
who went up to the king [at Susa], that he passed through a
large tract of excellent land, extending for nearly a day’s
journey, which the people of the country called the queen’s
girdle, and another, which they called her veil; and several
other fair and fertile districts, which were reserved for the
adornment of the queen, and are named after her several
habiliments. Now, I cannot help thinking to myself, What
if some one were to go to Amestris, the wife of Xerxes and
mother of Artaxerxes, and say to her, There is a certain
Dinomachè, whose whole wardrobe is not worth fifty minae—and
that will be more than the value—and she has a son
who is possessed of a three-hundred acre patch at Erchiae,
and he has a mind to go to war with your son—would she
not wonder to what this Alcibiades trusts for success in the
conflict? ‘He must rely,’ she would say to herself, ‘upon
his training and wisdom—these are the things which
Hellenes value.’ And if she heard that this Alcibiades who
is making the attempt is not as yet twenty years old, and is
wholly uneducated, and when his lover tells him that he
ought to get education and training first, and then go and
fight the king, he refuses, and says that he is well enough as
he is, would she not be amazed, and ask, ‘On what, then,
does the youth rely?’ And if we replied: He relies on his
beauty, and stature, and birth, and mental endowments, she
would think that we were mad, Alcibiades, when she compared
the advantages which you possess with those of her
own people. And I believe that even Lampido, the daughter 124
of Leotychides, the wife of Archidamus and mother of Agis,
all of whom were kings, would have the same feeling; if, in
your present uneducated state, you were to turn your thoughts
against her son, she too would be equally astonished. But
how disgraceful, that we should not have as high a notion of
what is required in us as our enemies’ wives and mothers
have of the qualities which are required in their assailants!
O my friend, be persuaded by me, and hear the Delphian
inscription, ‘Know thyself’—not the men whom you think,
but these kings are our rivals, and we can only overcome
them by pains and skill. And if you fail in the required
qualities, you will fail also in becoming renowned among
Hellenes and Barbarians, which you seem to desire more
than any other man ever desired anything.

[Sidenote: _The necessity of education._]

_Al._ I entirely believe you; but what are the sort of pains
which are required, Socrates,—can you tell me?

[Sidenote: I too need education; and God, who is my guardian, inspires me with the belief that I shall bring you to honour.]

_Soc._ Yes, I can; but we must take counsel together concerning
the manner in which both of us may be most
improved. For what I am telling you of the necessity of
education applies to myself as well as to you; and there
is only one point in which I have an advantage over you.

_Al._ What is that?

_Soc._ I have a guardian who is better and wiser than your
guardian, Pericles.

_Al._ Who is he, Socrates?

_Soc._ God, Alcibiades, who up to this day has not allowed
me to converse with you; and he inspires in me the faith
that I am especially designed to bring you to honour.

_Al._ You are jesting, Socrates.

_Soc._ Perhaps; at any rate, I am right in saying that all
men greatly need pains and care, and you and I above all
men.

_Al._ You are not far wrong about me.

_Soc._ And certainly not about myself.

_Al._ But what can we do?

_Soc._ There must be no hesitation or cowardice, my
friend.

_Al._ That would not become us, Socrates.

[Sidenote: We must take counsel together, (not about equestrian or naval affairs), but]

_Soc._ No, indeed, and we ought to take counsel together:
for do we not wish to be as good as possible?

_Al._ We do.

_Soc._ In what sort of virtue?

_Al._ Plainly, in the virtue of good men.

_Soc._ Who are good in what?

_Al._ Those, clearly, who are good in the management of
affairs.

_Soc._ What sort of affairs? Equestrian affairs?

_Al._ Certainly not.

[Sidenote: _Goodness and wisdom identified._]

_Soc._ You mean that about them we should have recourse
to horsemen?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Well; naval affairs?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ You mean that we should have recourse to sailors
about them?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then what affairs? And who do them?

[Sidenote: about the things which occupy the minds of wise men.]

_Al._ The affairs which occupy Athenian gentlemen. 125

_Soc._ And when you speak of gentlemen, do you mean the
wise or the unwise?

_Al._ The wise.

_Soc._ And a man is good in respect of that in which he is
wise?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And evil in respect of that in which he is unwise?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ The shoemaker, for example, is wise in respect of the
making of shoes?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then he is good in that?

_Al._ He is.

_Soc._ But in respect of the making of garments he is unwise?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then in that he is bad?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then upon this view of the matter the same man is
good and also bad?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ But would you say that the good are the same as the
bad?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ Then whom do you call the good?

[Sidenote: And the wise are those who take counsel for the better order and]

_Al._ I mean by the good those who are able to rule in the
city.

_Soc._ Not, surely, over horses?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ But over men?

[Sidenote: improvement of the city.]

[Sidenote: _The analogy of other employments._]

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ When they are sick?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ Or on a voyage?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ Or reaping the harvest?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ When they are doing something or nothing?

_Al._ When they are doing something, I should say.

_Soc._ I wish that you would explain to me what this something
is.

_Al._ When they are having dealings with one another, and
using one another’s services, as we citizens do in our daily
life.

[Sidenote: Illustrations.]

_Soc._ Those of whom you speak are ruling over men who
are using the services of other men?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Are they ruling over the signal-men who give the
time to the rowers?

_Al._ No; they are not.

_Soc._ That would be the office of the pilot?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ But, perhaps you mean that they rule over flute-players
who lead the singers and use the services of the
dancers?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ That would be the business of the teacher of the
chorus?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then what is the meaning of being able to rule over
men who use other men?

_Al._ I mean that they rule over men who have common
rights of citizenship, and dealings with one another.

_Soc._ And what sort of an art is this? Suppose that I ask
you again, as I did just now, What art makes men know
how to rule over their fellow-sailors,—how would you
answer?

_Al._ The art of the pilot.

_Soc._ And, if I may recur to another old instance, what art
enables them to rule over their fellow-singers?

[Sidenote: _How is a state improved?_]

_Al._ The art of the teacher of the chorus, which you were
just now mentioning.

_Soc._ And what do you call the art of fellow-citizens?

_Al._ I should say, good counsel, Socrates.

_Soc._ And is the art of the pilot evil counsel?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ But good counsel?

_Al._ Yes, that is what I should say,—good counsel, of which 126
the aim is the preservation of the voyagers.

_Soc._ True. And what is the aim of that other good counsel
of which you speak?

_Al._ The aim is the better order and preservation of the city.

_Soc._ And what is that of which the absence or presence
improves and preserves the order of the city? Suppose you
were to ask me, what is that of which the presence or absence
improves or preserves the order of the body? I should
reply, the presence of health and the absence of disease.
You would say the same?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And if you were to ask me the same question about
the eyes, I should reply in the same way, ‘the presence of
sight and the absence of blindness;’ or about the ears, I
should reply, that they were improved and were in better
case, when deafness was absent, and hearing was present in
them.

_Al._ True.

[Sidenote: And this improvement is given by friendship and agreement, such as exists between the members of a family, however they may differ in their qualities and accomplishments.]

_Soc._ And what would you say of a state? What is that by
the presence or absence of which the state is improved and
better managed and ordered?

_Al._ I should say, Socrates:—the presence of friendship and
the absence of hatred and division.

_Soc._ And do you mean by friendship agreement or disagreement?

_Al._ Agreement.

_Soc._ What art makes cities agree about numbers?

_Al._ Arithmetic.

_Soc._ And private individuals?

_Al._ The same.

_Soc._ And what art makes each individual agree with
himself?

[Sidenote: _The art of measure._]

_Al._ The same.

_Soc._ And what art makes each of us agree with himself
about the comparative length of the span and of the cubit?
Does not the art of measure?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Individuals are agreed with one another about this;
and states, equally?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And the same holds of the balance?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ But what is the other agreement of which you speak,
and about what? what art can give that agreement? And
does that which gives it to the state give it also to the individual,
so as to make him consistent with himself and with
another?

_Al._ I should suppose so.

_Soc._ But what is the nature of the agreement?—answer,
and faint not.

_Al._ I mean to say that there should be such friendship and
agreement as exists between an affectionate father and mother
and their son, or between brothers, or between husband and
wife.

_Soc._ But can a man, Alcibiades, agree with a woman about
the spinning of wool, which she understands and he does not?

_Al._ No, truly.

_Soc._ Nor has he any need, for spinning is a female
accomplishment.

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And would a woman agree with a man about the 127
science of arms, which she has never learned?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ I suppose that the use of arms would be regarded by
you as a male accomplishment?

_Al._ It would.

_Soc._ Then, upon your view, women and men have two sorts
of knowledge?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then in their knowledge there is no agreement of
women and men?

_Al._ There is not.

[Sidenote: _Apparent antagonism of friendship and justice._]

_Soc._ Nor can there be friendship, if friendship is agreement?

_Al._ Plainly not.

_Soc._ Then women are not loved by men when they do their
own work?

_Al._ I suppose not.

_Soc._ Nor men by women when they do their own work?

_Al._ No.

[Sidenote: If everybody is doing his own business, how can this promote friendship? And yet when individuals are doing each his own work, they are doing what is just.]

_Soc._ Nor are states well administered, when individuals do
their own work?

_Al._ I should rather think, Socrates, that the reverse is the
truth[59].

_Soc._ What! do you mean to say that states are well administered
when friendship is absent, the presence of which,
as we were saying, alone secures their good order?

_Al._ But I should say that there is friendship among them,
for this very reason, that the two parties respectively do their
own work.

_Soc._ That was not what you were saying before; and what
do you mean now by affirming that friendship exists when
there is no agreement? How can there be agreement about
matters which the one party knows, and of which the other is
in ignorance?

_Al._ Impossible.

_Soc._ And when individuals are doing their own work, are
they doing what is just or unjust?

_Al._ What is just, certainly.

_Soc._ And when individuals do what is just in the state, is
there no friendship among them?

_Al._ I suppose that there must be, Socrates.

_Soc._ Then what do you mean by this friendship or agreement
about which we must be wise and discreet in order that
we may be good men? I cannot make out where it exists or
among whom; according to you, the same persons may sometimes
have it, and sometimes not.

_Al._ But, indeed, Socrates, I do not know what I am saying;
and I have long been, unconsciously to myself, in a most
disgraceful state.

_Soc._ Nevertheless, cheer up; at fifty, if you had discovered
your deficiency, you would have been too old, and the time
for taking care of yourself would have passed away, but yours
is just the age at which the discovery should be made.

[Sidenote: _Alcibiades is puzzled._]

_Al._ And what should he do, Socrates, who would make the
discovery?

[Sidenote: The way to clear up difficulties is to answer questions. Alcibiades is willing to have recourse to this method of improvement.]

_Soc._ Answer questions, Alcibiades; and that is a process
which, by the grace of God, if I may put any faith in my
oracle, will be very improving to both of us.

_Al._ If I can be improved by answering, I will answer.

_Soc._ And first of all, that we may not peradventure be 128
deceived by appearances, fancying, perhaps, that we are
taking care of ourselves when we are not, what is the meaning
of a man taking care of himself? and when does he take
care? Does he take care of himself when he takes care of
what belongs to him?

_Al._ I should think so.

_Soc._ When does a man take care of his feet? Does he
not take care of them when he takes care of that which
belongs to his feet?

_Al._ I do not understand.

_Soc._ Let me take the hand as an illustration; does not a
ring belong to the finger, and to the finger only?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And the shoe in like manner to the foot?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And when we take care of our shoes, do we not take
care of our feet?

_Al._ I do not comprehend, Socrates.

_Soc._ But you would admit, Alcibiades, that to take proper
care of a thing is a correct expression?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And taking proper care means improving?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And what is the art which improves our shoes?

_Al._ Shoemaking.

_Soc._ Then by shoemaking we take care of our shoes?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And do we by shoemaking take care of our feet, or by
some other art which improves the feet?

_Al._ By some other art.

[Sidenote: _He is learning by examples._]

_Soc._ And the same art improves the feet which improves
the rest of the body?

_Al._ Very true.

_Soc._ Which is gymnastic?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then by gymnastic we take care of our feet, and by
shoemaking of that which belongs to our feet?

_Al._ Very true.

_Soc._ And by gymnastic we take care of our hands, and by
the art of graving rings of that which belongs to our hands?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And by gymnastic we take care of the body, and by
the art of weaving and the other arts we take care of the
things of the body?

_Al._ Clearly.

[Sidenote: It has been shown by examples that a man does not take care of himself, when he only takes care of what belongs to him.]

_Soc._ Then the art which takes care of each thing is different
from that which takes care of the belongings of each
thing?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ Then in taking care of what belongs to you, you do
not take care of yourself?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ For the art which takes care of our belongings appears
not to be the same as that which takes care of ourselves?

_Al._ Clearly not.

_Soc._ And now let me ask you what is the art with which we
take care of ourselves?

_Al._ I cannot say.

_Soc._ At any rate, thus much has been admitted, that the art
is not one which makes any of our possessions, but which
makes ourselves better?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ But should we ever have known what art makes a shoe
better, if we did not know a shoe?

_Al._ Impossible.

_Soc._ Nor should we know what art makes a ring better, if
we did not know a ring?

_Al._ That is true.

[Sidenote: A man must know himself before he can improve himself or know what belongs to him.]

_Soc._ And can we ever know what art makes a man better, 129
if we do not know what we are ourselves?

[Sidenote: _The knowledge of self._]

_Al._ Impossible.

_Soc._ And is self-knowledge such an easy thing, and was he
to be lightly esteemed who inscribed the text on the temple at
Delphi? Or is self-knowledge a difficult thing, which few
are able to attain?

_Al._ At times I fancy, Socrates, that anybody can know
himself; at other times the task appears to be very difficult.

_Soc._ But whether easy or difficult, Alcibiades, still there is
no other way; knowing what we are, we shall know how to
take care of ourselves, and if we are ignorant we shall not
know.

_Al._ That is true.

_Soc._ Well, then, let us see in what way the self-existent
can be discovered by us; that will give us a chance of discovering
our own existence, which otherwise we can never
know.

_Al._ You say truly.

_Soc._ Come, now, I beseech you, tell me with whom you
are conversing?—with whom but with me?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ As I am, with you?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ That is to say, I, Socrates, am talking?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And Alcibiades is my hearer?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And I in talking use words?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And talking and using words have, I suppose, the
same meaning?

_Al._ To be sure.

_Soc._ And the user is not the same as the thing which he
uses?

_Al._ What do you mean?

_Soc._ I will explain; the shoemaker, for example, uses a
square tool, and a circular tool, and other tools for cutting?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ But the tool is not the same as the cutter and user of
the tool?

_Al._ Of course not.

[Sidenote: _More analogies and examples._]

_Soc._ And in the same way the instrument of the harper is
to be distinguished from the harper himself?

_Al._ It is.

_Soc._ Now the question which I asked was whether you
conceive the user to be always different from that which he
uses?

_Al._ I do.

_Soc._ Then what shall we say of the shoemaker? Does he
cut with his tools only or with his hands?

_Al._ With his hands as well.

_Soc._ He uses his hands too?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And does he use his eyes in cutting leather?

_Al._ He does.

[Sidenote: He is distinct from what he uses; and therefore distinct from his own body.]

_Soc._ And we admit that the user is not the same with the
things which he uses?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then the shoemaker and the harper are to be distinguished
from the hands and feet which they use?

_Al._ Clearly.

_Soc._ And does not a man use the whole body?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And that which uses is different from that which is
used?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ Then a man is not the same as his own body?

_Al._ That is the inference.

_Soc._ What is he, then?

_Al._ I cannot say.

_Soc._ Nay, you can say that he is the user of the body.

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And the user of the body is the soul? 130

_Al._ Yes, the soul.

_Soc._ And the soul rules?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Let me make an assertion which will, I think, be universally
admitted.

_Al._ What is it?

[Sidenote: But he must be one of three things:—Soul, body, or the union of the two. What is the ruling principle in him? Clearly the soul.]

_Soc._ That man is one of three things.

_Al._ What are they?

[Sidenote: _The true self or being of a man._]

_Soc._ Soul, body, or both together forming a whole.

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ But did we not say that the actual ruling principle of
the body is man?

_Al._ Yes, we did.

_Soc._ And does the body rule over itself?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ It is subject, as we were saying?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then that is not the principle which we are seeking?

_Al._ It would seem not.

_Soc._ But may we say that the union of the two rules over
the body, and consequently that this is man?

_Al._ Very likely.

_Soc._ The most unlikely of all things; for if one of the
members is subject, the two united cannot possibly rule.

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ But since neither the body, nor the union of the two,
is man, either man has no real existence, or the soul is man?

_Al._ Just so.

_Soc._ Is anything more required to prove that the soul is
man?

_Al._ Certainly not; the proof is, I think, quite sufficient.

[Sidenote: There remains a question of absolute existence, which has not been considered by us, or rather is being considered by us when we speak of the soul.]

_Soc._ And if the proof, although not perfect, be sufficient,
we shall be satisfied;—more precise proof will be supplied
when we have discovered that which we were led to omit,
from a fear that the enquiry would be too much protracted.

_Al._ What was that?

_Soc._ What I meant, when I said that absolute existence
must be first considered; but now, instead of absolute existence,
we have been considering the nature of individual
existence, and this may, perhaps, be sufficient; for surely
there is nothing which may be called more properly ourselves
than the soul?

_Al._ There is nothing.

[Sidenote: You and I are talking soul to soul.]

_Soc._ Then we may truly conceive that you and I are conversing
with one another, soul to soul?

_Al._ Very true.

[Sidenote: _The man and his belongings._]

_Soc._ And that is just what I was saying before—that
I, Socrates, am not arguing or talking with the face of
Alcibiades, but with the real Alcibiades; or in other words,
with his soul.

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ Then he who bids a man know himself, would have
him know his soul?

_Al._ That appears to be true.

[Sidenote: But if the soul is the man, he who knows only the arts which concern man does not know himself.]

_Soc._ He whose knowledge only extends to the body, 131
knows the things of a man, and not the man himself?

_Al._ That is true.

_Soc._ Then neither the physician regarded as a physician,
nor the trainer regarded as a trainer, knows himself?

_Al._ He does not.

_Soc._ The husbandmen and the other craftsmen are very
far from knowing themselves, for they would seem not
even to know their own belongings? When regarded in
relation to the arts which they practise they are even further
removed from self-knowledge, for they only know the belongings
of the body, which minister to the body.

_Al._ That is true.

_Soc._ Then if temperance is the knowledge of self, in respect
of his art none of them is temperate?

_Al._ I agree.

_Soc._ And this is the reason why their arts are accounted
vulgar, and are not such as a good man would practise?

_Al._ Quite true.

_Soc._ Again, he who cherishes his body cherishes not himself,
but what belongs to him?

_Al._ That is true.

_Soc._ But he who cherishes his money, cherishes neither himself
nor his belongings, but is in a stage yet further removed
from himself?

_Al._ I agree.

_Soc._ Then the money-maker has really ceased to be occupied
with his own concerns?

_Al._ True.

[Sidenote: The lover of the soul is the true lover.]

_Soc._ And if any one has fallen in love with the person of
Alcibiades, he loves not Alcibiades, but the belongings of
Alcibiades?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ But he who loves your soul is the true lover?

[Sidenote: _Socrates, the only true lover of Alcibiades._]

_Al._ That is the necessary inference.

_Soc._ The lover of the body goes away when the flower of
youth fades?

_Al._ True.

[Sidenote: He only remains and goes not away, so long as the soul of his beloved follows after virtue.]

_Soc._ But he who loves the soul goes not away, as long as
the soul follows after virtue?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And I am the lover who goes not away, but remains
with you, when you are no longer young and the rest are gone?

_Al._ Yes, Socrates; and therein you do well, and I hope
that you will remain.

_Soc._ Then you must try to look your best.

_Al._ I will.

_Soc._ The fact is, that there is only one lover of Alcibiades
the son of Cleinias; there neither is nor ever has been seemingly
any other; and he is his darling,—Socrates, the son of
Sophroniscus and Phaenarete.

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ And did you not say, that if I had not spoken first,
you were on the point of coming to me, and enquiring why I
only remained?

_Al._ That is true.

[Sidenote: And Socrates will never desert Alcibiades so long as he is not spoiled by the Athenian people.]

_Soc._ The reason was that I loved you for your own sake,
whereas other men love what belongs to you; and your
beauty, which is not you, is fading away, just as your true 132
self is beginning to bloom. And I will never desert you, if
you are not spoiled and deformed by the Athenian people;
for the danger which I most fear is that you will become a
lover of the people and will be spoiled by them. Many a
noble Athenian has been ruined in this way. For the demus
of the great-hearted Erechtheus is of a fair countenance, but
you should see him naked; wherefore observe the caution
which I give you.

_Al._ What caution?

_Soc._ Practise yourself, sweet friend, in learning what you
ought to know, before you enter on politics; and then you
will have an antidote which will keep you out of harm’s way.

_Al._ Good advice, Socrates, but I wish that you would explain
to me in what way I am to take care of myself.

_Soc._ Have we not made an advance? for we are at any
rate tolerably well agreed as to what we are, and there is no
longer any danger, as we once feared, that we might be
taking care not of ourselves, but of something which is not
ourselves.

[Sidenote: _How is a man to take care of himself?_]

_Al._ That is true.

_Soc._ And the next step will be to take care of the soul, and
look to that?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Leaving the care of our bodies and of our properties
to others?

_Al._ Very good.

[Sidenote: He who would take care of himself must first of all know himself.]

_Soc._ But how can we have a perfect knowledge of the
things of the soul?—For if we know them, then I suppose
we shall know ourselves. Can we really be ignorant of the
excellent meaning of the Delphian inscription, of which we
were just now speaking?

_Al._ What have you in your thoughts, Socrates?

_Soc._ I will tell you what I suspect to be the meaning and
lesson of that inscription. Let me take an illustration from
sight, which I imagine to be the only one suitable to my
purpose.

_Al._ What do you mean?

[Sidenote: The eye which would see itself must look into the pupil of another, which is the divinest part of the eye, and will then behold itself.]

_Soc._ Consider; if some one were to say to the eye, ‘See
thyself,’ as you might say to a man, ‘Know thyself,’ what is
the nature and meaning of this precept? Would not his
meaning be:—That the eye should look at that in which it
would see itself?

_Al._ Clearly.

_Soc._ And what are the objects in looking at which we see
ourselves?

_Al._ Clearly, Socrates, in looking at mirrors and the like.

_Soc._ Very true; and is there not something of the nature
of a mirror in our own eyes?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Did you ever observe that the face of the person
looking into the eye of another is reflected as in a mirror;
and in the visual organ which is over against him, and which 133
is called the pupil, there is a sort of image of the person
looking?

_Al._ That is quite true.

[Sidenote: _The argument recapitulated with some corrections._]

_Soc._ Then the eye, looking at another eye, and at that in
the eye which is most perfect, and which is the instrument of
vision, will there see itself?

_Al._ That is evident.

_Soc._ But looking at anything else either in man or in the
world, and not to what resembles this, it will not see itself?

_Al._ Very true.

_Soc._ Then if the eye is to see itself, it must look at the eye,
and at that part of the eye where sight which is the virtue of
the eye resides?

_Al._ True.

[Sidenote: And the soul which would know herself must look especially at that part of herself in which she resembles the divine.]

_Soc._ And if the soul, my dear Alcibiades, is ever to know
herself, must she not look at the soul; and especially at that
part of the soul in which her virtue resides, and to any other
which is like this?

_Al._ I agree, Socrates.

_Soc._ And do we know of any part of our souls more divine
than that which has to do with wisdom and knowledge?

_Al._ There is none.

_Soc._ Then this is that part of the soul which resembles the
divine; and he who looks at this and at the whole class of
things divine, will be most likely to know himself?

_Al._ Clearly.

_Soc._ And self-knowledge we agree to be wisdom?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ But if we have no self-knowledge and no wisdom, can
we ever know our own good and evil?

_Al._ How can we, Socrates?

_Soc._ You mean, that if you did not know Alcibiades, there
would be no possibility of your knowing that what belonged
to Alcibiades was really his?

_Al._ It would be quite impossible.

[Sidenote: He who knows not himself and his belongings, will not know others and their belongings, and therefore he will not know the affairs of states.]

_Soc._ Nor should we know that we were the persons to
whom anything belonged, if we did not know ourselves?

_Al._ How could we?

_Soc._ And if we did not know our own belongings, neither
should we know the belongings of our belongings?

_Al._ Clearly not.

_Soc._ Then we were not altogether right in acknowledging
just now that a man may know what belongs to him and yet
not know himself; nay, rather he cannot even know the belongings
of his belongings; for the discernment of the things
of self, and of the things which belong to the things of self,
appear all to be the business of the same man, and of the
same art.

[Sidenote: _Happiness without virtue impossible._]

_Al._ So much may be supposed.

_Soc._ And he who knows not the things which belong to
himself, will in like manner be ignorant of the things which
belong to others?

_Al._ Very true.

_Soc._ And if he knows not the affairs of others, he will not
know the affairs of states?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ Then such a man can never be a statesman?

_Al._ He cannot.

_Soc._ Nor an economist?

_Al._ He cannot.

_Soc._ He will not know what he is doing? 134

_Al._ He will not.

_Soc._ And will not he who is ignorant fall into error?

_Al._ Assuredly.

[Sidenote: And, if he knows not what he is doing, he will be miserable and will make others miserable.]

_Soc._ And if he falls into error will he not fail both in his
public and private capacity?

_Al._ Yes, indeed.

_Soc._ And failing, will he not be miserable?

_Al._ Very.

_Soc._ And what will become of those for whom he is
acting?

_Al._ They will be miserable also.

_Soc._ Then he who is not wise and good cannot be happy?

_Al._ He cannot.

_Soc._ The bad, then, are miserable?

_Al._ Yes, very.

_Soc._ And if so, not he who has riches, but he who has
wisdom, is delivered from his misery?

_Al._ Clearly.

_Soc._ Cities, then, if they are to be happy, do not want
walls, or triremes, or docks, or numbers, or size, Alcibiades,
without virtue[60]?

[Sidenote: _The divine mirror._]

_Al._ Indeed they do not.

[Sidenote: He must give the citizens wisdom and justice, and he cannot give what he has not got.]

_Soc._ And you must give the citizens virtue, if you mean to
administer their affairs rightly or nobly?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ But can a man give that which he has not?

_Al._ Impossible.

_Soc._ Then you or any one who means to govern and
superintend, not only himself and the things of himself, but
the state and the things of the state, must in the first place
acquire virtue.

_Al._ That is true.

_Soc._ You have not therefore to obtain power or authority,
in order to enable you to do what you wish for yourself and
the state, but justice and wisdom.

_Al._ Clearly.

[Sidenote: If he acts wisely and justly he will act according to the will of God.]

_Soc._ You and the state, if you act wisely and justly, will
act according to the will of God?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ As I was saying before, you will look only at what is
bright and divine, and act with a view to them?

_Al._ Yes.

[Sidenote: In the mirror of the divine he will see his own good and will act rightly and be happy.]

_Soc._ In that mirror you will see and know yourselves and
your own good?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And so you will act rightly and well?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ In which case, I will be security for your happiness.

_Al._ I accept the security.

_Soc._ But if you act unrighteously, your eye will turn to
the dark and godless, and being in darkness and ignorance
of yourselves, you will probably do deeds of darkness.

_Al._ Very possibly.

_Soc._ For if a man, my dear Alcibiades, has the power to
do what he likes, but has no understanding, what is likely to
be the result, either to him as an individual or to the state—for 135
example, if he be sick and is able to do what he likes,
not having the mind of a physician—having moreover tyrannical
power, and no one daring to reprove him, what will
happen to him? Will he not be likely to have his constitution
ruined?

[Sidenote: _The conversion of Alcibiades._]

_Al._ That is true.

_Soc._ Or again, in a ship, if a man having the power to do
what he likes, has no intelligence or skill in navigation, do
you see what will happen to him and to his fellow-sailors?

_Al._ Yes; I see that they will all perish.

_Soc._ And in like manner, in a state, and where there is
any power and authority which is wanting in virtue, will not
misfortune, in like manner, ensue?

_Al._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: Not power, but virtue, should be the aim both of individuals and of states: and he only is a freeman who has virtue.]

_Soc._ Not tyrannical power, then, my good Alcibiades,
should be the aim either of individuals or states, if they
would be happy, but virtue.

_Al._ That is true.

_Soc._ And before they have virtue, to be commanded by a
superior is better for men as well as for children[61]?

_Al._ That is evident.

_Soc._ And that which is better is also nobler?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ And what is nobler is more becoming?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then to the bad man slavery is more becoming,
because better?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ Then vice is only suited to a slave?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And virtue to a freeman?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And, O my friend, is not the condition of a slave to
be avoided?

_Al._ Certainly, Socrates.

_Soc._ And are you now conscious of your own state? And
do you know whether you are a freeman or not?

_Al._ I think that I am very conscious indeed of my own
state.

_Soc._ And do you know how to escape out of a state which
I do not even like to name to my beauty?

_Al._ Yes, I do.

_Soc._ How?

_Al._ By your help, Socrates.

[Sidenote: _The power of the state may be too much for us._]

_Soc._ That is not well said, Alcibiades.

_Al._ What ought I to have said?

_Soc._ By the help of God.

_Al._ I agree; and I further say, that our relations are
likely to be reversed. From this day forward, I must and
will follow you as you have followed me; I will be the
disciple, and you shall be my master.

_Soc._ O that is rare! My love breeds another love: and
so like the stork I shall be cherished by the bird whom I
have hatched.

_Al._ Strange, but true; and henceforward I shall begin to
think about justice.

_Soc._ And I hope that you will persist; although I have
fears, not because I doubt you; but I see the power of the
state, which may be too much for both of us.

FOOTNOTES

[55] Cp. Symp. 213 C.

[56] Cp. Symp. 217 E ff.

[57] Cp. Symp. 181 E.

[58] About £406.

[59] Cp. Rep. i. 332 foll.

[60] Cp. Arist. Pol. vii. 1. § 5.

[61] Cp. Arist. Pol. i. 5. § 7.

MENEXENUS.

INTRODUCTION.

[Sidenote: _Menexenus._]

[Sidenote: INTRODUCTION.]

The Menexenus has more the character of a rhetorical exercise than any other of the Platonic works. The writer seems to have wished to emulate Thucydides, and the far slighter work of Lysias. In his rivalry with the latter, to whom in the Phaedrus Plato shows a strong antipathy, he is entirely successful, but he is not equal to Thucydides. The Menexenus, though not without real Hellenic interest, falls very far short of the rugged grandeur and political insight of the great historian. The fiction of the speech having been invented by Aspasia is well sustained, and is in the manner of Plato, notwithstanding the anachronism which puts into her mouth an allusion to the peace of Antalcidas, an event occurring forty years after the date of the supposed oration. But Plato, like Shakespeare, is careless of such anachronisms, which are not supposed to strike the mind of the reader. The effect produced by these grandiloquent orations on Socrates, who does not recover after having heard one of them for three days and more, is truly Platonic.

Such discourses, if we may form a judgment from the three which are extant (for the so-called Funeral Oration of Demosthenes is a bad and spurious imitation of Thucydides and Lysias), conformed to a regular type. They began with Gods and ancestors, and the legendary history of Athens, to which succeeded an almost equally fictitious account of later times. The Persian war usually formed the centre of the narrative; in the age of Isocrates and Demosthenes the Athenians were still living on the glories of Marathon and Salamis. The Menexenus veils in panegyric the weak places of Athenian history. The war of Athens and Boeotia is a war of liberation; the Athenians gave back the Spartans taken at Sphacteria out of kindness—indeed, the only fault of the city was too great kindness to their enemies, who were more honoured than the friends of others (cp. Thucyd. ii. 41, which seems to contain the germ of the idea); we democrats are the aristocracy of virtue, and the like. These are the platitudes and falsehoods in which history is disguised. The taking of Athens is hardly mentioned.

[Sidenote: _The authenticity of the Dialogue._]

The author of the Menexenus, whether Plato or not, is evidently intending to ridicule the practice, and at the same time to show that he can beat the rhetoricians in their own line, as in the Phaedrus he may be supposed to offer an example of what Lysias might have said, and of how much better he might have written in his own style. The orators had recourse to their favourite _loci communes_, one of which, as we find in Lysias, was the shortness of the time allowed them for preparation. But Socrates points out that they had them always ready for delivery, and that there was no difficulty in improvising any number of such orations. To praise the Athenians among the Athenians was easy,—to praise them among the Lacedaemonians would have been a much more difficult task. Socrates himself has turned rhetorician, having learned of a woman, Aspasia, the mistress of Pericles; and any one whose teachers had been far inferior to his own—say, one who had learned from Antiphon the Rhamnusian—would be quite equal to the task of praising men to themselves. When we remember that Antiphon is described by Thucydides as the best pleader of his day, the satire on him and on the whole tribe of rhetoricians is transparent.

The ironical assumption of Socrates, that he must be a good orator because he had learnt of Aspasia, is not coarse, as Schleiermacher supposes, but is rather to be regarded as fanciful. Nor can we say that the offer of Socrates to dance naked out of love for Menexenus, is any more un-Platonic than the threat of physical force which Phaedrus uses towards Socrates (286 C). Nor is there any real vulgarity in the fear which Socrates expresses that he will get a beating from his mistress, Aspasia: this is the natural exaggeration of what might be expected from an imperious woman. Socrates is not to be taken seriously in all that he says, and Plato, both in the Symposium and elsewhere, is not slow to admit a sort of Aristophanic humour. How a great original genius like Plato might or might not have written, what was his conception of humour, or what limits he would have prescribed to himself, if any, in drawing the picture of the Silenus Socrates, are problems which no critical instinct can determine.

[Sidenote: _The authenticity of the Dialogue._]

On the other hand, the dialogue has several Platonic traits, whether original or imitated may be uncertain. Socrates, when he departs from his character of a ‘know nothing’ and delivers a speech, generally pretends that what he is speaking is not his own composition. Thus in the Cratylus he is run away with (410 E); in the Phaedrus he has heard somebody say something (235 C)—is inspired by the _genius loci_ (238 D); in the Symposium he derives his wisdom from Diotima of Mantinea, and the like. But he does not impose on Menexenus by his dissimulation. Without violating the character of Socrates, Plato, who knows so well how to give a hint, or some one writing in his name, intimates clearly enough that the speech in the Menexenus like that in the Phaedrus is to be attributed to Socrates. The address of the dead to the living at the end of the oration may also be compared to the numerous addresses of the same kind which occur in Plato, in whom the dramatic element is always tending to prevail over the rhetorical. The remark has been often made, that in the Funeral Oration of Thucydides there is no allusion to the existence of the dead. But in the Menexenus a future state is clearly, although not strongly, asserted.