(9) Or, "a man in his senses... a simpleton"; for the sentiment L.Dind. cf. Isocr. "ad Demonic." 7 D.
In answer to the question: what is leisure? I discover (he said) that most men do something: (10) for instance, the dice player, (11) the gambler, the buffoon, do something, but these have leisure; they can, if they like, turn and do something better; but nobody has leisure to turn from the better to the worse, and if he does so turn, when he has no leisure, he does but ill in that.
(10) See above, I. ii. 57; and in ref. to these definitions, K. Joel,op. cit. p. 347 foll.(11) For "dice-playing" see Becker, "Charicl." 354 (Engl. trans.); for"buffoonery," ib. 98; "Symp."
(To pass to another definition.) They are not kings or rulers (he said) who hold the sceptre merely, or are chosen by fellows out of the street, (12) or are appointed by lot, or have stepped into office by violence or by fraud; but those who have the special knowledge (13) how to rule. Thus having won the admission that it is the function of a ruler to enjoin what ought to be done, and of those who are ruled to obey, he proceeded to point out by instances that in a ship the ruler or captain is the man of special knowledge, to whom, as an expert, the shipowner himself and all the others on board obey. So likewise, in the matter of husbandry, the proprietor of an estate; in that of sickness, the patient; in that of physical training of the body, the youthful athlete going through a course; and, in general, every one directly concerned in any matter needing attention and care will either attend to this matter personally, if he thinks he has the special knowledge; or, if he mistrusts his own science, will be eager to obey any expert on the spot, or will even send and fetch one from a distance. The guidance of this expert he will follow, and do what he has to do at his dictation.
(12) Tom, Dick, and Harry (as we say).(13) The {episteme}. See above, III. v. 21; Newman, op. cit. i. 256.
And thus, in the art of spinning wool, he liked to point out that women are the rulers of men—and why? because they have the knowledge of the art, and men have not.
And if any one raised the objection that a tyrant has it in his power not to obey good and correct advice, he would retort: "Pray, how has he the option not to obey, considering the penalty hanging over him who disobeys the words of wisdom? for whatever the matter be in which he disobeys the word of good advice, he will fall into error, I presume, and falling into error, be punished." And to the suggestion that the tyrant could, if he liked, cut off the head of the man of wisdom, his answer was: "Do you think that he who destroys his best ally will go scot free, or suffer a mere slight and passing loss? Is he more likely to secure his salvation that way, think you, or to compass his own swift destruction?" (14)
(14) Or, "Is that to choose the path of safety, think you? Is it notrather to sign his own death-warrent?" L. Dind. cf. Hesiod, "Worksand Days," 293. See Newman, op. cit. i. 393-397.
When some one asked him: "What he regarded as the best pursuit or business (15) for a man?" he answered: "Successful conduct"; (16) and to a second question: "Did he then regard good fortune as an end to be pursued?"—"On the contrary," he answered, "for myself, I consider fortune and conduct to be diametrically opposed. For instance, to succeed in some desirable course of action without seeking to do so, I hold to be good fortune; but to do a thing well by dint of learning and practice, that according to my creed is successful conduct, (17) and those who make this the serious business of their life seem to me to do well."
(15) Or, "the noblest study."(16) {eupraxia, eu prattein}—to do well, in the sense both of well orright doing, and of welfare, and is accordingly opposed to{eutukhia}, mere good luck or success. Cf. Plat. "Euthyd." 281 B.(17) Lit. "well-doing"; and for the Socratic view see Newman, op. cit.i. 305, 401.
They are at once the best and the dearest in the sight of God (18) (he went on to say) who for instance in husbandry do well the things of farming, or in the art of healing all that belongs to healing, or in statecraft the affairs of state; whereas a man who does nothing well—nor well in anything—is (he added) neither good for anything nor dear to God.
(18) Or, "most divinely favoured." Cf. Plat. "Euthyphro," 7 A.
X
But indeed, (1) if chance brought him into conversation with any one possessed of an art, and using it for daily purposes of business, he never failed to be useful to this kind of person. For instance, stepping one time into the studio of Parrhasius (2) the painter, and getting into conversation with him—
(1) {alla men kai}... "But indeed the sphere of his helpfulness wasnot circumscribed; if," etc.(2) For Parrhasius of Ephesus, the son of Evenor and rival of Zeuxis,see Woltmann and Woermann, "Hist. of Painting," p. 47 foll.;Cobet, "Pros. Xen." p. 50 (cf. in particular Quint. XII. x. 627).At the date of conversation (real or ideal) he may be supposed tohave been a young man.
I suppose, Parrhasius (said he), painting may be defined as "a representation of visible objects," may it not? (3) That is to say, by means of colours and palette you painters represent and reproduce as closely as possible the ups and downs, lights and shadows, hard and soft, rough and smooth surfaces, the freshness of youth and the wrinkles of age, do you not?
(3) Reading with Schneider, L. Dind., etc., after Stobaeus, {egraphike estin eikasia}, or if the vulg. {graphike estin eeikasia}, trans. "Painting is the term applied to a particularrepresentation," etc.
You are right (he answered), that is so.
Soc. Further, in portraying ideal types of beauty, seeing it is not easy to light upon any one human being who is absolutely devoid of blemish, you cull from many models the most beautiful traits of each, and so make your figures appear completely beautiful? (4)
(4) Cf. Cic. "de Invent." ii. 1 ad in. of Zeuxis; Max. Tur. "Dissert."23, 3, ap. Schneider ad loc.
Parrh. Yes, that is how we do. (5)
(5) Or, "that is the secret of our creations," or "our art ofcomposition."
Well, but stop (Socrates continued); do you also pretend to represent in similar perfection the characteristic moods of the soul, its captivating charm and sweetness, with its deep wells of love, its intensity of yearning, its burning point of passion? or is all this quite incapable of being depicted?
Nay (he answered), how should a mood be other than inimitable, Socrates, when it possesses neither linear proportion (6) nor colour, nor any of those qualities which you named just now; when, in a word, it is not even visible?
(6) Lit. "symmetry." Cf. Plin. xxxv. 10, "primus symmetriam picturaededit," etc.
Soc. Well, but the kindly look of love, the angry glance of hate at any one, do find expression in the human subject, do they not? (7)
(7) Or, "the glance of love, the scowl of hate, which one directstowards another, are recognised expressions of human feeling." Cf.the description of Parrhasius's own portrait of Demos, ap. Plin.loc. cit.
Parrh. No doubt they do.
Soc. Then this look, this glance, at any rate may be imitated in the eyes, may it not?
Undoubtedly (he answered).
Soc. And do anxiety and relief of mind occasioned by the good or evil fortune of those we love both wear the same expression?
By no means (he answered); at the thought of good we are radiant, at that of evil a cloud hangs on the brow.
Soc. Then here again are looks with it is possible to represent?
Parrh. Decidedly.
Soc. Furthermore, as through some chink or crevice, there pierces through the countenance of a man, through the very posture of his body as he stands or moves, a glimpse of his nobility and freedom, or again of something in him low and grovelling—the calm of self-restraint, and wisdom, or the swagger of insolence and vulgarity?
You are right (he answered).
Soc. Then these too may be imitated?
No doubt (he said).
Soc. And which is the pleasanter type of face to look at, do you think—one on which is imprinted the characteristics of a beautiful, good, and lovable disposition, or one which bears the impress of what is ugly, and bad, and hateful? (8)
(8) For this theory cp. Ruskin, "Mod. P." ii. 94 foll. and indeedpassim.
Parrh. Doubtless, Socrates, there is a vast distinction between the two.
At another time he entered the workshop of the sculptor Cleiton, (9) and in course of conversation with him said:
(9) An unknown artist. Coraes conj. {Kleona}. Cf. Plin. xxxiv. 19;Paus. v. 17, vi. 3. He excelled in portrait statues. See Jowett,"Plato," iv.; "Laws," p. 123.
You have a gallery of handsome people here, (10) Cleiton, runners, and wrestlers, and boxers, and pancratiasts—that I see and know; but how do you give the magic touch of life to your creations, which most of all allures the soul of the beholder through his sense of vision?
(10) Reading after L. Dind. {kaloi ous}, or if vulg. {alloious},translate "You have a variety of types, Cleiton, not all of onemould, but runners," etc.; al. "I see quite well how you give thediversity of form to your runners," etc.
As Cleiton stood perplexed, and did not answer at once, Socrates added: Is it by closely imitating the forms of living beings that you succeed in giving that touch of life to your statues?
No doubt (he answered).
Soc. It is, is it not, by faithfully copying the various muscular contractions of the body in obedience to the play of gesture and poise, the wrinklings of flesh and the sprawl of limbs, the tensions and the relaxations, that you succeed in making your statues like real beings—make them "breathe" as people say?
Cleit. Without a doubt.
Soc. And does not the faithful imitation of the various affections of the body when engaged in any action impart a particular pleasure to the beholder?
Cleit. I should say so.
Soc. Then the threatenings in the eyes of warriors engaged in battle should be carefully copied, or again you should imitate the aspect of a conqueror radiant with success?
Cleit. Above all things.
Soc. It would seem then that the sculptor is called upon to incorporate in his ideal form the workings and energies also of the soul?
Paying a visit to Pistias, (11) the corselet maker, when that artist showed him some exquisite samples of his work, Socrates exclaimed:
(11) Cf. Athen. iv. 20, where the same artist is referred toapparently as {Piston}, and for the type of person see the"Portrait of a Tailor" by Moroni in the National Gallery—see"Handbook," Edw. T. Cook, p. 152.
By Hera! a pretty invention this, Pistias, by which you contrive that the corselet should cover the parts of the person which need protection, and at the same time leave free play to the arms and hands.... but tell me, Pistias (he added), why do you ask a higher price for these corselets of yours if they are not stouter or made of costlier material than the others?
Because, Socrates (he answered), mine are of much finer proportion.
Soc. Proportion! Then how do you make this quality apparent to the customer so as to justify the higher price—by measure or weight? For I presume you cannot make them all exactly equal and of one pattern—if you make them fit, as of course you do?
Fit indeed! that I most distinctly do (he answered), take my word for it: no use in a corselet without that.
But then are not the wearer's bodies themselves (asked Socrates) some well proportioned and others ill?
Decidedly so (he answered).
Soc. Then how do you manage to make the corselet well proportioned if it is to fit an ill-proportioned body? (12)
(12) Or, "how do you make a well-proportioned corselet fit an ill-proportioned body? how well proportioned?"
Pist. To the same degree exactly as I make it fit. What fits is well proportioned.
Soc. It seems you use the term "well-proportioned" not in an absolute sense, but in reference to the wearer, just as you might describe a shield as well proportioned to the individual it suits; and so of a military cloak, and so of the rest of things, in your terminology? But maybe there is another considerable advantage in this "fitting"?
Pist. Pray instruct me, Socrates, if you have got an idea.
Soc. A corselet which fits is less galling by its weight than one which does not fit, for the latter must either drag from the shoulders with a dead weight or press upon some other part of the body, and so it becomes troublesome and uncomfortable; but that which fits, having its weight distributed partly along the collar-bone and shoulder-blade, partly over the shoulders and chest, and partly the back and belly, feels like another natural integument rather than an extra load to carry. (13)
(13) Schneider ad loc. cf Eur. "Electr." 192, {prosthemata aglaias},and for the weight cf. Aristoph. "Peace," 1224.
Pist. You have named the very quality which gives my work its exceptional value, as I consider; still there are customers, I am bound to say, who look for something else in a corselet—they must have them ornamental or inlaid with gold.
For all that (replied Socrates), if they end by purchasing an ill-fitting article, they only become the proprietors of a curiously-wrought and gilded nuisance, as it seems to me. But (he added), as the body is never in one fixed position, but is at one time curved, at another raised erect how can an exactly-modelled corselet fit?
Pist. It cannot fit at all.
You mean (Socrates continued) that it is not the exactly-modelled corselet which fits, but that which does not gall the wearer in the using?
Pist. There, Socrates, you have hit the very point. I see you understand the matter most precisely. (14)
(14) Or, "There, Socrates, you have hit the very phrase. I could notstate the matter more explicitly myself."
XI
There was once in the city a fair woman named Theodote. (1) She was not only fair, but ready to consort with any suitor who might win her favour. Now it chanced that some one of the company mentioned her, saying that her beauty beggared description. "So fair is she," he added, "that painters flock to draw her portrait, to whom, within the limits of decorum, she displays the marvels of her beauty." "Then there is nothing for it but to go and see her," answered Socrates, "since to comprehend by hearsay what is beyond description is clearly impossible." Then he who had introduced the matter replied: "Be quick then to follow me"; and on this wise they set off to seek Theodote. They found her "posing" to a certain painter; and they took their stand as spectators. Presently the painter had ceased his work; whereupon Socrates:
(1) For Theodote see Athen. v. 200 F, xiii. 574 F; Liban. i. 582. Somesay that it was Theodote who stood by Alcibiades to the last,though there are apparently other better claimants to the honour.Plut. "Alc." (Clough, ii. p. 50).
"Do you think, sirs, that we ought to thank Theodote for displaying her beauty to us, or she us for coming to gaze at her?... It would seem, would it not, that if the exhibition of her charms is the more profitable to her, the debt is on her side; but if the spectacle of her beauty confers the greater benefit on us, then we are her debtors."
Some one answered that "was an equitable statement of the case."
Well then (he continued), as far as she is concerned, the praise we bestow on her is an immediate gain; and presently, when we have spread her fame abroad, she will be further benefited; but for ourselves the immediate effect on us is a strong desire to touch what we have seen; by and by, too, we shall go away with a sting inside us, and when we are fairly gone we shall be consumed with longing. Consequently it seems that we should do her service and she accept our court.
Whereupon Theodote: Oh dear! if that is how the matter stands, it is I who am your debtor for the spectacle. (2)
(2) In reference to the remark of Socrates above; or, "have to thankyou for coming to look at me."
At this point, seeing that the lady herself was expensively attired, and that she had with her her mother also, whose dress and style of attendance (3) were out of the common, not to speak of the waiting-women—many and fair to look upon, who presented anything but a forlorn appearance; while in every respect the whole house itself was sumptuously furnished—Socrates put a question:
(3) Or, "her mother there with her in a dress and general get-up({therapeia}) which was out of the common." See Becker,"Charicles," p. 247 (Eng. tr.)
Pray tell me, Theodote, have you an estate in the country?
Theod. Not I indeed.
Soc. Then perhaps you possess a house and large revenues along with it?
Theod. No, nor yet a house.
Soc. You are not an employer of labour on a large scale? (4)
(4) Lit. "You have not (in your employ) a body of handicraftsmen ofany sort?"
Theod. No, nor yet an employer of labour.
Soc. From what source, then, do you get your means of subsistence? (5)
(5) Or, Anglice, "derive your income."
Theod. My friends are my life and fortune, when they care to be kind to me.
Soc. By heaven, Theodote, a very fine property indeed, and far better worth possessing than a multitude of sheep or goats or cattle. A flock of friends!... But (he added) do you leave it to fortune whether a friend lights like a fly on your hand at random, or do you use any artifice (6) yourself to attract him?
(6) Or, "means and appliances," "machinery."
Theod. And how might I hit upon any artifice to attract him?
Soc. Bless me! far more naturally than any spider. You know how they capture the creatures on which they live; (7) by weaving webs of gossamer, is it not? and woe betide the fly that tumbles into their toils! They eat him up.
(7) Lit. "the creatures on which they live."
Theod. So then you would counsel me to weave myself some sort of net?
Soc. Why, surely you do not suppose you are going to ensnare that noblest of all game—a lover, to wit—in so artless a fashion? Do you not see (to speak of a much less noble sort of game) what a number of devices are needed to bag a hare? (8) The creatures range for their food at night; therefore the hunter must provide himself with night dogs. At peep of dawn they are off as fast as they can run. He must therefore have another pack of dogs to scent out and discover which way they betake them from their grazing ground to their forms; (9) and as they are so fleet of foot that they run and are out of sight in no time, he must once again be provided with other fleet-footed dogs to follow their tracks and overtake them; (10) and as some of them will give even these the slip, he must, last of all, set up nets on the paths at the points of escape, so that they may fall into the meshes and be caught.
(8) See the author's own treatise on "Hunting," vi. 6 foll.(9) Lit. "from pasture to bed."(10) Or, "close at their heels and run them down." See "Hunting"; cf."Cyrop." I. vi. 40.
Theod. And by what like contrivance would you have me catch my lovers?
Soc. Well now! what if in place of a dog you can get a man who will hunt up your wealthy lover of beauty and discover his lair, and having found him, will plot and plan to throw him into your meshes?
Theod. Nay, what sort of meshes have I?
Soc. One you have, and a close-folding net it is, (11) I trow; to wit, your own person; and inside it sits a soul that teaches you (12) with what looks to please and with what words to cheer; how, too, with smiles you are to welcome true devotion, but to exclude all wantons from your presence. (13) It tells you, you are to visit your beloved in sickness with solicitude, and when he has wrought some noble deed you are greatly to rejoice with him; and to one who passionately cares for you, you are to make surrender of yourself with heart and soul. The secret of true love I am sure you know: not to love softly merely, but devotedly. (14) And of this too I am sure: you can convince your lovers of your fondness for them not by lip phrases, but by acts of love.
(11) Or, "right well woven."(12) Lit. "by which you understand."(13) Or, "with what smiles to lie in wait for (cf. 'Cyrop.' II. iv.20; Herod. vi. 104) the devoted admirer, and how to banish fromyour presence the voluptary."(14) Or, "that it should be simply soft, but full of tender goodwill."
Theod. No, upon my word, I have none of these devices.
Soc. And yet it makes all the difference whether you approach a human being in the natural and true way, since it is not by force certainly that you can either catch or keep a friend. Kindness and pleasure are the only means to capture this fearful wild-fowl man and keep him constant.
Theod. You are right.
Soc. In the first place you must make such demands only of your well-wisher as he can grant without repentance; and in the next place you must make requital, dispensing your favours with a like economy. Thus you will best make friends whose love shall last the longest and their generosity know no stint. (15) And for your favours you will best win your friends if you suit your largess to their penury; for, mark you, the sweetest viands presented to a man before he wants them are apt to prove insipid, or, to one already sated, even nauseous; but create hunger, and even coarser stuff seems honey-sweet.
(15) Or, "This is the right road to friendship—permanent and open-handed friendship."
Theod. How then shall I create this hunger in the heart of my friends?
Soc. In the first place you must not offer or make suggestion of your dainties to jaded appetites until satiety has ceased and starvation cries for alms. Even then shall you make but a faint suggestion to their want, with modest converse—like one who would fain bestow a kindness... and lo! the vision fades and she is gone—until the very pinch of hunger; for the same gifts have then a value unknown before the moment of supreme desire.
Then Theodote: Oh why, Socrates, why are you not by my side (like the huntsman's assistant) to help me catch my friends and lovers?
Soc. That will I be in good sooth if only you can woo and win me.
Theod. How shall I woo and win you?
Soc. Seek and you will find means, if you truly need me.
Theod. Come then in hither and visit me often.
And Socrates, poking sly fun at his own lack of business occupation, answered: Nay, Theodote, leisure is not a commodity in which I largely deal. I have a hundred affairs of my own too, private or public, to occupy me; and then there are my lady-loves, my dear friends, who will not suffer me day or night to leave them, for ever studying to learn love-charms and incantations at my lips.
Theod. Why, are you really versed in those things, Socrates?
Soc. Of course, or else how is it, do you suppose, that Apollodorus (16) here and Antisthenes never leave me; or why have Cebes and Simmias come all the way from Thebes to stay with me? Be assured these things cannot happen without diverse love-charms and incantations and magic wheels.
(16) For Apollodorus see "Apol." 28; Plat. "Symp." 172 A; "Phaed." 59A, 117 D. For Antisthenes see above. For Cebes and Simmias seeabove, I. ii. 48; Plat. "Crit." 45 B; "Phaed." passim.
Theod. I wish you would lend me your magic-wheel, (17) then, and I will set it spinning first of all for you.
(17) Cf. Theocr. ii. 17; Schneider ad loc.
Soc. Ah! but I do not wish to be drawn to you. I wish you to come to me.
Theod. Then I will come. Only, will you be "at home" to me?
Soc. Yes, I will welcome you, unless some one still dearer holds me engaged, and I must needs be "not at home."
XII
Seeing one of those who were with him, a young man, but feeble of body, named Epigenes, (1) he addressed him.
(1) Epigenes, possibly the son of Antiphon. See Plat. "Apol." 33 E;"Phaed." 59 B.
Soc. You have not the athletic appearance of a youth in training, (2) Epigenes.
(2) {idiotikos}, lit. of the person untrained in gymnastics. See A. R.Cluer ad loc. Cf. Plat. "Laws," 839 E; I. ii. 4; III. v. 15;"Symp." ii. 17.
And he: That may well be, seeing I am an amateur and not in training.
Soc. As little of an amateur, I take it, as any one who ever entered the lists of Olympia, unless you are prepared to make light of that contest for life and death against the public foe which the Athenians will institute when the day comes. (3) And yet they are not a few who, owing to a bad habit of body, either perish outright in the perils of war, or are ignobly saved. Many are they who for the self-same cause are taken prisoners, and being taken must, if it so betide, endure the pains of slavery for the rest of their days; or, after falling into dolorous straits, (4) when they have paid to the uttermost farthing of all, or may be more than the worth of all, that they possess, must drag on a miserable existence in want of the barest necessaries until death release them. Many also are they who gain an evil repute through infirmity of body, being thought to play the coward. Can it be that you despise these penalties affixed to an evil habit? Do you think you could lightly endure them? Far lighter, I imagine, nay, pleasant even by comparison, are the toils which he will undergo who duly cultivates a healthy bodily condition. Or do you maintain that the evil habit is healthier, and in general more useful than the good? Do you pour contempt upon those blessings which flow from the healthy state? And yet the very opposite of that which befalls the ill attends the sound condition. Does not the very soundness imply at once health and strength? (5) Many a man with no other talisman than this has passed safely through the ordeal of war; stepping, not without dignity, (6) through all its horrors unscathed. Many with no other support than this have come to the rescue of friends, or stood forth as benefactors of their fatherland; whereby they were thought worthy of gratitude, and obtained a great renown and received as a recompense the highest honours of the State; to whom is also reserved a happier and brighter passage through what is left to them of life, and at their death they leave to their children the legacy of a fairer starting-point in the race of life.
(3) Or, "should chance betide." Is the author thinking of a life-and-death struggle with Thebes?(4) e.g. the prisoners in the Latomiae. Thuc. vii. 87.(5) It is almost a proverb—"Sound of body and limb is hale andstrong." "Qui valet praevalebit."(6) e.g. Socrates himself, according to Alcibiades, ap. Plat. "Symp."221 B; and for the word {euskhemonos} see Arist. "Wasps," 1210,"like a gentleman"; L. and S.; "Cyr." I. iii. 8; Aristot. "Eth.N." i. 10, 13, "gracefully."
Because our city does not practise military training in public, (7) that is no reason for neglecting it in private, but rather a reason for making it a foremost care. For be you assured that there is no contest of any sort, nor any transaction, in which you will be the worse off for being well prepared in body; and in fact there is nothing which men do for which the body is not a help. In every demand, therefore, which can be laid upon the body it is much better that it should be in the best condition; since, even where you might imagine the claims upon the body to be slightest—in the act of reasoning—who does not know the terrible stumbles which are made through being out of health? It suffices to say that forgetfulness, and despondency, and moroseness, and madness take occasion often of ill-health to visit the intellectual faculties so severely as to expel all knowledge (8) from the brain. But he who is in good bodily plight has large security. He runs no risk of incurring any such catastrophe through ill-health at any rate; he has the expectation rather that a good habit must procure consequences the opposite to those of an evil habit; (9) and surely to this end there is nothing a man in his senses would not undergo.... It is a base thing for a man to wax old in careless self-neglect before he has lifted up his eyes and seen what manner of man he was made to be, in the full perfection of bodily strength and beauty. But these glories are withheld from him who is guilty of self-neglect, for they are not wont to blaze forth unbidden. (10)
(7) Cf. "Pol. Ath." i. 13; and above, III. v. 15.(8) Or, "whole branches of knowledge" ({tas epistemas}).(9) Or, "he may well hope to be insured by his good habit against theevils attendant on its opposite."(10) Or, "to present themselves spontaneously."
XII
Once when some one was in a fury of indignation because he had bidden a passer-by good-day and the salutation was not returned, Socrates said: "It is enough to make one laugh! If you met a man in a wretched condition of body, you would not fall into a rage; but because you stumble upon a poor soul somewhat boorishly disposed, you feel annoyed."
To the remark of another who complained that he did not take his food with pleasure, he said: "Acumenus (1) has a good prescription for that." And when the other asked: "And what may that be?" "To stop eating," he said. "On the score of pleasure, economy, and health, total abstinence has much in its favour." (2)
(1) A well-known physician. See Plat. "Phaedr." 227 A, 269 A; "Symp."176 B. A similar story is told of Dr. Abernethy, I think.(2) Lit. "he would live a happier, thriftier, and healthier life, ifhe stopped eating."
And when some one else lamented that "the drinking-water in his house was hot," he replied: "Then when you want a warm bath you will not have to wait."
The Other. But for bathing purposes it is cold.
Soc. Do you find that your domestics seem to mind drinking it or washing in it?
The Other. Quite the reverse; it is a constant marvel to me how contentedly they use it for either purpose.
Soc. Which is hotter to the taste—the water in your house or the hot spring in the temple of Asclepius? (3)
(3) In the Hieron at Epidauros probably. See Baedeker, "Greece," p.240 foll.
The Other. The water in the temple of Asclepius.
Soc. And which is colder for bathing—yours or the cold spring in the cave of Amphiaraus? (4)
(4) Possibly at Oropos. Cf. Paus. i. 34. 3.
The Other. The water in the cave of Amphiaraus.
Soc. Then please to observe: if you do not take care, they will set you down as harder to please than a domestic servant or an invalid. (5)
(5) i.e. "the least and the most fastidious of men."
A man had administered a severe whipping to the slave in attendance on him, and when Socrates asked: "Why he was so wroth with his own serving-man?" excused himself on the ground that "the fellow was a lazy, gourmandising, good-for-nothing dolt—fonder of money than of work." To which Socrates: "Did it ever strike you to consider which of the two in that case the more deserves a whipping—the master or the man?"
When some one was apprehending the journey to Olympia, "Why are you afraid of the long distance?" he asked. "Here at home you spend nearly all your day in taking walks. (6) Well, on your road to Olympia you will take a walk and breakfast, and then you will take another walk and dine, and go to bed. Do you not see, if you take and tack together five or six days' length of walks, and stretch them out in one long line, it will soon reach from Athens to Olympia? I would recommend you, however, to set off a day too soon rather than a day too late. To be forced to lengthen the day's journey beyond a reasonable amount may well be a nuisance; but to take one day's journey beyond what is necessary is pure relaxation. Make haste to start, I say, and not while on the road." (7)
(6) {peripateis}, "promenading up and down."(7) "Festina lente"—that is your motto.
When some one else remarked "he was utterly prostrated after a long journey," Socrates asked him: "Had he had any baggage to carry?"
"Not I," replied the complainer; "only my cloak."
Soc. Were you travelling alone, or was your man-servant with you?
He. Yes, I had my man.
Soc. Empty-handed, or had he something to carry?
He. Of course; carrying my rugs and other baggage.
Soc. And how did he come off on the journey?
He. Better than I did myself, I take it.
Soc. Well, but now suppose you had had to carry his baggage, what would your condition have been like?
He. Sorry enough, I can tell you; or rather, I could not have carried it at all.
Soc. What a confession! Fancy being capable of so much less toil than a poor slave boy! Does that sound like the perfection of athletic training?
XIV
On the occasion of a common dinner-party (1) where some of the company would present themselves with a small, and others with a large supply of viands, Socrates would bid the servants (2) throw the small supplies into the general stock, or else to help each of the party to a share all round. Thus the grand victuallers were ashamed in the one case not to share in the common stock, and in the other not to throw in their supplies also. (3) Accordingly in went the grand supplies into the common stock. And now, being no better off than the small contributors, they soon ceased to cater for expensive delicacies.
(1) For the type of entertainment see Becker, "Charicles," p. 315(Eng. tr.)(2) "The boy."(3) Or, "were ashamed not to follow suit by sharing in the commonstock and contributing their own portion."
At a supper-party one member of the company, as Socrates chanced to note, had put aside the plain fare and was devoting himself to certain dainties. (4) A discussion was going on about names and definitions, and the proper applications of terms to things. (5) Whereupon Socrates, appealing to the company: "Can we explain why we call a man a 'dainty fellow'? What is the particular action to which the term applies? (6)—since every one adds some dainty to his food when he can get it. (7) But we have not quite hit the definition yet, I think. Are we to be called dainty eaters because we like our bread buttered?" (8)
(4) For the distinction between {sitos} and {opson} see Plat. "Rep."372 C.(5) Or, "The conversation had fallen upon names: what is the precisething denoted under such and such a term? Define the meaning of soand so."(6) {opsophagos} = {opson} (or relish) eater, and so a "gourmand" or"epicure"; but how to define a gourmand?(7) Lit. "takes some {opson} (relish) to his {sitos} (food)."(8) Lit. "simply for that" (sc. the taking of some sort of {opson}.For {epi touto} cf. Plat. "Soph." 218 C; "Parmen." 147 D.)
No! hardly! (some member of the company replied).
Soc. Well, but now suppose a man confine himself to eating venison or other dainty without any plain food at all, not as a matter of training, (9) but for the pleasure of it: has such a man earned the title? "The rest of the world would have a poor chance against him," (10) some one answered. "Or," interposed another, "what if the dainty dishes he devours are out of all proportion to the rest of his meal—what of him?" (11)
(9) Lit. "{opson} (relish) by itself, not for the sake of training,"etc. The English reader wil bear in mind that a raw beefsteak orother meat prescribed by the gymnastic trainer in preference tofarinaceous food ({sitos}) would be {opson}.(10) Or, more lit. "Hardly any one could deserve the appellationbetter."(11) Lit. "and what of the man who eats much {opson} on the top of alittle ({sitos})?" {epesthion} = follows up one course by another,like the man in a fragment of Euripides, "Incert." 98: {kreasiboeiois khlora suk' epesthien}, who "followed up his beefsteakwith a garnish of green figs."
Soc. He has established a very fair title at any rate to the appellation, and when the rest of the world pray to heaven for a fine harvest: "May our corn and oil increase!" he may reasonably ejaculate, "May my fleshpots multiply!"
At this last sally the young man, feeling that the conversation set somewhat in his direction, did not desist indeed from his savoury viands, but helped himself generously to a piece of bread. Socrates was all-observant, and added: Keep an eye on our friend yonder, you others next him, and see fair play between the sop and the sauce. (12)
(12) Lit. "see whether he will make a relish of the staple or a stapleof the relish" ("butter his bread or bread his butter").
Another time, seeing one of the company using but one sop of bread (13) to test several savoury dishes, he remarked: Could there be a more extravagant style of cookery, or more murderous to the dainty dishes themselves, than this wholesale method of taking so many dishes together?—why, bless me, twenty different sorts of seasoning at one swoop! (14) First of all he mixes up actually more ingredients than the cook himself prescribes, which is extravagant; and secondly, he has the audacity to commingle what the chef holds incongruous, whereby if the cooks are right in their method he is wrong in his, and consequently the destroyer of their art. Now is it not ridiculous first to procure the greatest virtuosi to cook for us, and then without any claim to their skill to take and alter their procedure? But there is a worse thing in store for the bold man who habituates himself to eat a dozen dishes at once: when there are but few dishes served, out of pure habit he will feel himself half starved, whilst his neighbour, accustomed to send his sop down by help of a single relish, will feast merrily, be the dishes never so few.