Book 1, Chapter 3

It may serve to illustrate the assertion that he benefited his associates partly by the display of his own virtue and partly by verbal discourse and argument, if I set down my various recollections ¹ on these heads. And first with regard to religion and the concerns of heaven. In conduct and language his behaviour conformed to the rule laid down by the Pythia ² in reply to the question, "How shall we act?" as touching a sacrifice or the worship of ancestors, or any similar point. Her answer is: "Act according to the law and custom of your state, and you will act piously." After this pattern Socrates behaved himself, and so he exhorted others to behave, holding them to be but busybodies and vain fellows who acted on any different principle.

I may illustrate my claim that Socrates benefited his associates partly by showing his own virtue and partly through conversation and argument. I will do so by setting down what I remember ¹ about each. First, consider religion and heavenly matters. In what he did and said, Socrates followed the rule given by the Pythia ² in answer to the question, "How shall we act?" The question concerned sacrifices, the worship of ancestors, or similar matters. Her answer is: "Act according to the laws and customs of your state, and you will act piously." Socrates followed this rule and urged others to do the same. He considered anyone who acted on a different principle to be a meddlesome and foolish person.

His formula or prayer was simple: "Give me that which is best for me," for, said he, the gods know best what good things are—to pray for gold or silver or despotic power were no better than to make some particular throw at dice or stake in battle or any such thing the subject of prayer, of which the future consequences are manifestly uncertain. ³

His prayer was simple: "Give me what is best for me." He said that the gods know best what things are good. Praying for gold, silver, or absolute power was no better than praying for a particular roll of the dice or outcome in battle. In each case, the future consequences are clearly uncertain. ³

If with scant means he offered but small sacrifices he believed that he was in no wise inferior to those who make frequent and large sacrifices from an ampler store. It were ill surely for the very gods themselves, could they take delight in large sacrifices rather than in small, else oftentimes must the offerings of bad men be found acceptable rather than of good; nor from the point of view of men themselves would life be worth living if the offerings of a villain rather than of a righteous man found favour in the sight of Heaven. His belief was that the joy of the gods is greater in proportion to the holiness of the giver, and he was ever an admirer of that line of Hesiod which says,

When he had little to give and offered only small sacrifices, he did not consider himself inferior to those who could afford frequent and large sacrifices. Surely it would reflect badly on the gods themselves if they took more pleasure in large sacrifices than in small ones. For then the offerings of bad people would often be more acceptable than those of good people. Nor would life be worth living for people if Heaven favored the offerings of a villain over those of a righteous person. He believed that the holier the giver, the greater the gods’ joy. He always admired the line by Hesiod that says,

"Yes," he would say, "in our dealings with friends and strangers alike, and in reference to the demands of life in general, there is no better motto for a man than that: 'let a man do according to his ability.'"

"Yes," he would say, "whether dealing with friends or strangers, or meeting the demands of life in general, a man can have no better motto than: 'Let a man do what he can.'"

Or to take another point. If it appeared to him that a sign from heaven had been given him, nothing would have induced him to go against heavenly warning: he would as soon have been persuaded to accept the guidance of a blind man ignorant of the path to lead him on a journey in place of one who knew the road and could see; and so he denounced the folly of others who do things contrary to the warnings of God in order to avoid some disrepute among men. For himself he despised all human aids by comparison with counsel from above.

Consider another point. If he believed heaven had given him a sign, nothing could persuade him to ignore the warning. He would be just as willing to let a blind man who did not know the path guide him on a journey, instead of someone who could see and knew the way. So he condemned others for foolishly acting against God's warnings to avoid losing some people's respect. For his part, he valued all human help as nothing compared with guidance from heaven.

The habit and style of living to which he subjected his soul and body was one which under ordinary circumstances ⁵ would enable any one adopting it to look existence cheerily in the face and to pass his days serenely: it would certainly entail no difficulties as regards expense. So frugal was it that a man must work little indeed who could not earn the quantum which contented Socrates. Of food he took just enough to make eating a pleasure—the appetite he brought to it was sauce sufficient; while as to drinks, seeing that he only drank when thirsty, any draught refreshed. ⁶ If he accepted an invitation to dinner, he had no difficulty in avoiding the common snare of over-indulgence, and his advice to people who could not equally control their appetite was to avoid taking what would allure them to eat if not hungry or to drink if not thirsty. ⁷ Such things are ruinous to the constitution, he said, bad for stomachs, brains, and soul alike; or as he used to put it, with a touch of sarcasm, ⁸ "It must have been by feasting men on so many dainty dishes that Circe produced her pigs; only Odysseus through his continency and the 'promptings ⁹ of Hermes' abstained from touching them immoderately, and by the same token did not turn into a swine." So much for this topic, which he touched thus lightly and yet seriously.

The habits and way of life he imposed on his soul and body would, under ordinary circumstances, ⁵ let anyone who adopted them face life cheerfully and pass their days calmly. They would certainly cause no financial difficulty. His way of life was so frugal that anyone who worked even a little could earn enough to satisfy Socrates. He ate just enough to make eating a pleasure. His appetite was all the seasoning he needed. As for drink, he drank only when thirsty, so any drink refreshed him. ⁶ When he accepted an invitation to dinner, he easily avoided the common trap of overindulgence. To those who could not control their appetites as well, he gave this advice: avoid anything that tempts you to eat when you are not hungry or drink when you are not thirsty. ⁷ Such things ruin the health, he said. They are bad for the stomach, brain, and soul alike. Or, as he used to put it with a touch of sarcasm, ⁸ "Circe must have turned men into pigs by feasting them on so many rich dishes. Only Odysseus, through his self-control and the 'promptings ⁹ of Hermes,' avoided eating too much of them. For the same reason, he did not turn into a pig." That was how he treated this subject, both lightly and seriously.

But as to the concerns of Aphrodite, his advice was to hold strongly aloof from the fascination of fair forms: once lay finger on these and it is not easy to keep a sound head and a sober mind. To take a particular case. It was a mere kiss which, as he had heard, Critobulus ¹⁰ had some time given to a fair youth, the son of Alcibiades. ¹¹ Accordingly Critobulus being present, Socrates propounded the question.

But in matters of Aphrodite, he advised keeping well away from the allure of beautiful people. Once you touch them, it is hard to keep a clear head and a sober mind. Take one example. He had heard that Critobulus ¹⁰ had once done no more than kiss a handsome young man, the son of Alcibiades. ¹¹ So, with Critobulus present, Socrates asked a question.

Soc. Tell me, Xenophon, have you not always believed Critobulus to be a man of sound sense, not wild and self-willed? Should you not have said that he was remarkable for his prudence rather than thoughtless or foolhardy?

Soc. Tell me, Xenophon, have you not always considered Critobulus sensible, rather than reckless and stubborn? Would you not have said he was notably careful, rather than thoughtless or rash?

Xen. Certainly that is what I should have said of him.

Xen. Yes, that's certainly what I would have said about him.

Soc. Then you are now to regard him as quite the reverse—a hot-blooded, reckless libertine: this is the sort of man to throw somersaults into knives, ¹² or to leap into the jaws of fire.

Soc. Then you should now see him as the exact opposite, a hot-blooded, reckless libertine. He is the kind of man who would do somersaults into knives, ¹² or leap into the jaws of fire.

Xen. And what have you seen him doing, that you give him so bad a character?

Xen. And what have you seen him do that makes you speak so badly of him?

Soc. Doing? Why, has not the fellow dared to steal a kiss from the son of Alcibiades, most fair of youths and in the golden prime?

Soc. Doing? Why, didn’t the fellow dare to steal a kiss from Alcibiades’ son, the most beautiful young man, in the prime of his youth?

Xen. Nay, then, if that is the foolhardy adventure, it is a danger which I could well encounter myself.

Xen. Well, if that's the reckless adventure, I could face that danger myself.

Soc. Poor soul! and what do you expect your fate to be after that kiss? Let me tell you. On the instant you will lose your freedom, the indenture of your bondage will be signed; it will be yours on compulsion to spend large sums on hurtful pleasures; you will have scarcely a moment's leisure left for any noble study; you will be driven to concern yourself most zealously with things which no man, not even a madman, would choose to make an object of concern.

Soc. Poor soul! What do you think will happen to you after that kiss? Let me tell you. You will instantly lose your freedom and become bound as a slave. You will be forced to spend large sums on harmful pleasures. You will have hardly a moment left for any noble study. You will be driven to devote yourself to things no one, not even a madman, would choose to care about.

Xen. O Heracles! how fell a power to reside in a kiss!

Xen. Oh, Heracles! How did a kiss come to have such power!

Soc. Does it surprise you? Do you not know that the tarantula, which is no bigger than a threepenny bit, ¹³ has only to touch the mouth and it will afflict its victim with pains and drive him out of his senses.

Soc. Does that surprise you? Don't you know that a tarantula is no bigger than a threepenny coin? ¹³ It only has to touch a person's mouth to cause pain and drive that person out of their senses.

Xen. Yes, but then the creature injects something with its bite.

Xen. Yes, but the creature injects something when it bites.

Soc. Ah, fool! and do you imagine that these lovely creatures infuse nothing with their kiss, simply because you do not see the poison? Do you not know that this wild beast which men call beauty in its bloom is all the more terrible than the tarantula in that the insect must first touch its victim, but this at a mere glance of the beholder, without even contact, will inject something into him—yards away—which will make him man. And may be that is why the Loves are called "archers," because these beauties wound so far off. ¹⁴ But my advice to you, Xenophon, is, whenever you catch sight of one of these fair forms, to run helter-skelter for bare life without a glance behind; and to you, Critobulus, I would say, "Go abroad for a year: so long time will it take to heal you of this wound."

Soc. Ah, fool! Do you think these lovely creatures put nothing into you with their kiss, just because you cannot see the poison? Don't you know that the wild beast men call beauty in its bloom is even more dangerous than a tarantula? The insect must touch its victim first. But beauty only needs to be seen. Without even touching the person looking, it can inject something into him from yards away, something that will make him man. And perhaps that is why the Loves are called "archers," because these beauties wound people from so far away. ¹⁴ But my advice to you, Xenophon, is to run for your life whenever you see one of these beautiful creatures. Don't even look back. And to you, Critobulus, I would say, "Go abroad for a year. It will take that long for this wound to heal."

Such (he said), in the affairs of Aphrodite, as in meats and drinks, should be the circumspection of all whose footing is insecure. At least they should confine themselves to such diet as the soul would dispense with, save for some necessity of the body; and which even so ought to set up no disturbance. ¹⁵ But for himself, it was clear, he was prepared at all points and invulnerable. He found less difficulty in abstaining from beauty's fairest and fullest bloom than many others from weeds and garbage. To sum up: ¹⁶ with regard to eating and drinking and these other temptations of the sense, the equipment of his soul made him independent; he could boast honestly that in his moderate fashion ¹⁷ his pleasures were no less than theirs who take such trouble to procure them, and his pains far fewer.

He said that all who are unsure of themselves should be just as cautious in matters of Aphrodite as with food and drink. At least they should limit themselves to what the soul could do without, except for some need of the body. Even then, these things should cause no disturbance. ¹⁵ But he himself was clearly prepared and invulnerable in every respect. He found it easier to resist beauty at its fairest and fullest than many others found it to resist weeds and garbage. In short: ¹⁶ his soul was so equipped that he was independent of food, drink, and these other temptations of the senses. He could honestly boast that, in his moderate way, ¹⁷ he enjoyed as much pleasure as those who took such trouble to obtain it, and suffered far less pain.