Book 2, Chapter 7

He had two ways of dealing with the difficulties of his friends: where ignorance was the cause, he tried to meet the trouble by a dose of common sense; or where want and poverty were to blame, by lessoning them that they should assist one another according to their ability; and here I may mention certain incidents which occurred within my own knowledge. How, for instance, he chanced upon Aristarchus wearing the look of one who suffered from a fit of the "sullens," and thus accosted him.

He had two ways of helping his friends with their difficulties. When ignorance was the cause, he tried to offer some common sense. When need and poverty were to blame, he taught them to help one another according to their means. I can mention some incidents I know about firsthand. For example, he once came upon Aristarchus looking "sullen" and spoke to him.

Soc. You seem to have some trouble on your mind, Aristarchus; if so, you should share it with your friends. Perhaps together we might lighten the weight of it a little.

Soc. You seem to have something troubling you, Aristarchus. If so, you should share it with your friends. Perhaps together we can make it a little easier to bear.

Aristarchus answered: Yes, Socrates, I am in sore straits indeed. Ever since the party strife declared itself in the city, ¹ what with the rush of people to Piraeus, and the wholesale banishments, I have been fairly at the mercy of my poor deserted female relatives. Sisters, nieces, cousins, they have all come flocking to me for protection. I have fourteen free-born souls, I tell you, under my single roof, and how are we to live? We can get nothing out of the soil—that is in the hands of the enemy; nothing from my house property, for there is scarcely a living soul left in the city; my furniture? no one will buy it; money? there is none to be borrowed—you would have a better chance to find it by looking for it on the road than to borrow it from a banker. Yes, Socrates, to stand by and see one's relatives die of hunger is hard indeed, and yet to feed so many at such a pinch impossible.

Aristarchus answered: Yes, Socrates, I am in serious trouble. Ever since civil conflict broke out in the city, ¹ people have rushed to Piraeus and many have been banished. As a result, I have been left to care for my poor female relatives, who have been abandoned. Sisters, nieces, cousins, they have all come flocking to me for protection. I tell you, I have fourteen free-born people under my roof. How are we to live? We can get nothing from the land, because it is in enemy hands. We get nothing from my houses, because hardly anyone is left in the city. As for my furniture, no one will buy it. And there is no money to borrow. You would have a better chance of finding money on the road than borrowing it from a banker. Yes, Socrates, it is hard to stand by and watch your relatives starve. Yet at a time like this, it is impossible to feed so many.

After he listened to the story, Socrates asked: How comes it that Ceramon, ² with so many mouths to feed, not only contrives to furnish himself and them with the necessaries of life, but to realise a handsome surplus, whilst you being in like plight ³ are afraid you will one and all perish of starvation for want of the necessaries of life?

After hearing the story, Socrates asked: How does Ceramon, ² with so many people to feed, manage to provide necessities for himself and them? And how does he make a handsome surplus? Yet you are in the same situation ³ and fear that all of you will starve for lack of necessities.

Ar. Why, bless your soul, do you not see he has only slaves and I have free-born souls to feed?

Ar. Good heavens, don't you see? He only has slaves to feed, but I have free-born people.

Soc. And which should you say were the better human beings, the free-born members of your household or Ceramon's slaves?

Soc. And who would you say are better people, the free-born members of your household or Ceramon's slaves?

Ar. The free souls under my roof without a doubt.

Ar. The free people in my household, without a doubt.

Soc. Is it not a shame, then, that he with his baser folk to back him should be in easy circumstances, while you and your far superior household are in difficulties?

Soc. Isn't it a shame that he lives comfortably with the support of his inferior people, while you and your far superior household are struggling?

Ar. To be sure it is, when he has only a set of handicraftsmen to feed, and I my liberally-educated household.

Ar. Of course it is, when he only has a group of craftsmen to feed, while I have my well-educated household.

Soc. What is a handicraftsman? Does not the term apply to all who can make any sort of useful product or commodity?

Soc. What is a craftsman? Doesn't the term apply to everyone who can make any kind of useful product or commodity?

Ar. Certainly.

Ar. Certainly.

Soc. Barley meal is a useful product, is it not?

Soc. Barley meal is useful, isn't it?

Ar. Pre-eminently so.

Ar. More than anything else.

Soc. And loaves of bread?

Soc. And loaves of bread?

Ar. No less.

Ar. No less.

Soc. Well, and what do you say to cloaks for men and for women—tunics, mantles, vests? ⁴

Soc. Well, what do you say about clothes for men and women: tunics, mantles, and vests? ⁴

Ar. Yes, they are all highly useful commodities.

Ar. Yes, they are all very useful goods.

Soc. Then your household do not know how to make any of these?

Soc. So no one in your household knows how to make any of these?

Ar. On the contrary, I believe they can make them all.

Ar. No, I believe they can make them all.

Soc. Then you are not aware that by means of the manufacture of one of these alone—his barley meal store—Nausicydes ⁵ not only maintains himself and his domestics, but many pigs and cattle besides, and realises such large profits that he frequently contributes to the state benevolences; ⁶ while there is Cyrebus, again, who, out of a bread factory, more than maintains the whole of his establishment, and lives in the lap of luxury; and Demeas of Collytus gets a livelihood out of a cloak business, and Menon as a mantua-maker, and so, again, more than half the Megarians ⁷ by the making of vests.

Soc. Then you do not realize what Nausicydes ⁵ earns by producing just one of these things, barley meal. He supports himself, his household, and many pigs and cattle besides. He also makes such large profits that he often makes voluntary contributions to the state. ⁶ Cyrebus, meanwhile, more than supports his entire household with a bread factory and lives in luxury. Demeas of Collytus earns a living from a cloak business, and Menon makes dresses. More than half the Megarians ⁷ earn their living by making vests.

Ar. Bless me, yes! They have got a set of barbarian fellows, whom they purchase and keep, to manufacture by forced labour whatever takes their fancy. My kinswomen, I need not tell you, are free-born ladies.

Ar. Good heavens, yes! They buy and keep foreign slaves to make whatever they want through forced labor. My female relatives, as you know, are free-born ladies.

Soc. Then, on the ground that they are free-born and your kinswomen, you think that they ought to do nothing but eat and sleep? Or is it your opinion that people who live in this way—I speak of free-born people in general—lead happier lives, and are more to be congratulated, than those who give their time and attention to such useful arts of life as they are skilled in? Is this what you see in the world, that for the purpose of learning what it is well to know, and of recollecting the lessons taught, or with a view to health and strength of body, or for the sake of acquiring and preserving all that gives life its charm, idleness and inattention are found to be helpful, whilst work and study are simply a dead loss? Pray, when those relatives of yours were taught what you tell me they know, did they learn it as barren information which they would never turn to practical account, or, on the contrary, as something with which they were to be seriously concerned some day, and from which they were to reap advantage? Do human beings in general attain to well-tempered manhood by a course of idling, or by carefully attending to what will be of use? Which will help a man the more to grow in justice and uprightness, to be up and doing, or to sit with folded hands revolving the ways and means of existence? As things now stand, if I am not mistaken, there is no love lost between you. You cannot help feeling that they are costly to you, and they must see that you find them a burthen? This is a perilous state of affairs, in which hatred and bitterness have every prospect of increasing, whilst the pre-existing bond of affection ⁸ is likely to be snapped.

Soc. So, because they are free-born and related to you, do you think they should do nothing but eat and sleep? Or do you think free-born people in general are happier and more fortunate when they live that way? Are they happier than those who devote their time and attention to useful skills they have mastered? Is that what you see in the world? Do idleness and neglect help people learn what is worth knowing and remember what they have learned? Do they help people gain health and bodily strength, or acquire and preserve all that makes life pleasant? And are work and study simply a waste? When your relatives were taught the skills you say they have, did they learn them as useless information? Were they never meant to put those skills to use? Or were they meant to take them seriously someday and benefit from them? Do people generally develop self-control by being idle, or by carefully attending to useful things? Which helps a person become more just and upright: being active, or sitting with folded hands, wondering how to make a living? As things stand, if I am not mistaken, there is little affection between you. You cannot help feeling that your relatives cost you money, and they must see that you find them a burden. This is a dangerous situation. Hatred and bitterness are very likely to grow, while the bond of affection ⁸ that already exists is likely to be broken.

But now, if only you allow them free scope for their energies, when you come to see how useful they can be, you will grow quite fond of them, and they, when they perceive that they can please you, will cling to their benefactor warmly. Thus, with the memory of former kindnesses made sweeter, you will increase the grace which flows from kindnesses tenfold; you will in consequence be knit in closer bonds of love and domesticity. If, indeed, they were called upon to do any shameful work, let them choose death rather than that; but now they know, it would seem, the very arts and accomplishments which are regarded as the loveliest and the most suitable for women; and the things which we know, any of us, are just those which we can best perform, that is to say, with ease and expedition; it is a joy to do them, and the result is beautiful. ⁹ Do not hesitate, then, to initiate your friends in what will bring advantage to them and you alike; probably they will gladly respond to your summons.

But now, if you give them freedom to use their abilities, you will see how useful they can be. Then you will grow very fond of them. And when they realize they can please you, they will warmly embrace you as their benefactor. Your memories of past kindnesses will grow sweeter, and the goodwill that kindness creates will increase tenfold. As a result, love and a shared home will bind you more closely together. If they were asked to do shameful work, they should choose death rather than do it. But as it is, they seem to know the very skills and accomplishments considered most admirable and suitable for women. Whatever we know how to do, we can do best, easily and quickly. Doing these things is a joy, and the result is beautiful. ⁹ So do not hesitate to encourage your friends to take up work that will benefit you both. They will probably respond gladly to your invitation.

Well, upon my word (Aristarchus answered), I like so well what you say, Socrates, that though hitherto I have not been disposed to borrow, knowing that when I had spent what I got I should not be in a condition to repay, I think I can now bring myself to do so in order to raise a fund for these works.

Well, I must say (Aristarchus replied), I like what you say, Socrates. Until now, I have not wanted to borrow money. I knew that once I had spent the money, I would not be able to repay it. But now I think I can bring myself to borrow money to fund this work.

Thereupon a capital was provided; wools were purchased; the good man's relatives set to work, and even whilst they breakfasted they worked, and on and on till work was ended and they supped. Smiles took the place of frowns; they no longer looked askance with suspicion, but full into each other's eyes with happiness. They loved their kinsman for his kindness to them. He became attached to them as helpmates; and the end of it all was, he came to Socrates and told him with delight how matters fared; "and now," he added, "they tax me with being the only drone in the house, who sit and eat the bread of idleness."

So money was provided, wool was bought, and the man's relatives set to work. They worked even while eating breakfast and continued until their work was done and they ate supper. Smiles replaced frowns. They no longer looked at one another with suspicion, but looked happily into each other's eyes. They loved their relative for his kindness, and he grew fond of them as helpers. In the end, he went to Socrates and happily told him how things were going. "And now," he added, "they accuse me of being the only drone in the house, sitting around and eating without working."

To which Socrates: Why do not you tell them the fable of the dog? ¹⁰ Once on a time, so goes the story, when beasts could speak, the sheep said to her master, "What a marvel is this, master, that to us, your own sheep, who provide you with fleeces and lambs and cheese, you give nothing, save only what we may nibble off earth's bosom; but with this dog of yours, who provides you with nothing of the sort, you share the very meat out of your mouth." When the dog heard these words, he answered promptly, "Ay, in good sooth, for is it not I who keep you safe and sound, you sheep, so that you are not stolen by man nor harried by wolves; since, if I did not keep watch over you, you would not be able so much as to graze afield, fearing to be destroyed." And so, says the tale, the sheep had to admit that the dog was rightly preferred to themselves in honour. And so do you tell your flock yonder that like the dog in the fable you are their guardian and overseer, and it is thanks to you that they are protected from evil and evildoers, so that they work their work and live their lives in blissful security.

Socrates replied: Why don't you tell them the fable of the dog? ¹⁰ Once, so the story goes, when animals could speak, a sheep said to her master, "What a strange thing, master. We sheep give you wool, lambs, and cheese. Yet you give us nothing but what we can nibble from the ground. Your dog gives you none of these things, but you share the food from your own mouth with him." When the dog heard this, he promptly answered, "Yes, indeed. But am I not the one who keeps you sheep safe, so that men do not steal you or wolves attack you? If I did not watch over you, you could not even graze in the fields for fear of being killed." And so, the story says, the sheep had to admit that the dog deserved greater honor than they did. So tell your flock over there that, like the dog in the fable, you are their guardian and overseer. Thanks to you, they are protected from evil and evildoers, so they can work and live in blissful security.