Book 3, Chapter 9
Being again asked by some one: could courage be taught, or did it come by nature? he answered: I imagine that just as one body is by nature stronger than another body to encounter toils, so one soul by nature grows more robust than another soul in face of dangers. Certainly I do note that people brought up under the same condition of laws and customs differ greatly in respect of daring. Still my belief is that by learning and practice the natural aptitude may always be strengthened towards courage. It is clear, for instance, that Scythians or Thracians would not venture to take shield and spear and contend with Lacedaemonians; and it is equally evident that Lacedaemonians would demur to entering the lists of battle against Thracians if limited to their light shields and javelins, or against Scythians without some weapon more familiar than their bows and arrows. And as far as I can see, this principle holds generally: the natural differences of one man from another may be compensated by artificial progress, the result of care and attention. All which proves clearly that whether nature has endowed us with keener or blunter sensibilities, the duty of all alike is to learn and practise those things in which we would fain achieve distinction.
Someone again asked him whether courage could be taught, or whether it came by nature. He answered: I think one body is naturally stronger than another when facing hardship. In the same way, one soul is naturally stronger than another when facing danger. Certainly, I notice that people raised under the same laws and customs differ greatly in daring. Still, I believe that learning and practice can always strengthen a natural capacity for courage. For example, Scythians or Thracians would clearly not dare to fight Lacedaemonians with shield and spear. It is equally clear that Lacedaemonians would hesitate to fight Thracians if limited to light shields and javelins. They would also hesitate to fight Scythians without a weapon more familiar to them than bows and arrows. As far as I can see, this principle holds generally. A person’s natural disadvantages compared with another can be offset by improvement through care and attention. All this clearly proves that, whether nature has given us sharper or duller abilities, we all have the same duty. We must learn and practise the things in which we want to excel.
Or, "When some one retorted upon him with the question: 'Can courage be taught?'" On this question, see IV. vi. 10, 11, "Symp." ii. 12, Plat. "Lach.", "Protag." 349, "Phaedr." 269 D, K. Joel, op. cit. p. 325 foll., Grote, "Plato," i. 468 foll., ii. 60, Jowett, "Plato," i. 77, 119, Newman, op. cit. i. 343.
Or, "against Thracians with light shields and javelins, or against Scythians with bows and arrows". For the weapons of these peoples, respectively, see Arist. "Lysistr." 563, "Anab." III. iv. 15, VI. VII. passim.
Between wisdom and sobriety of soul (which is temperance) he drew no distinction. Was a man able on the one hand to recognise things beautiful and good sufficiently to live in them? Had he, on the other hand, knowledge of the "base and foul" so as to beware of them? If so, Socrates judged him to be wise at once and sound of soul (or temperate).
Socrates saw no difference between wisdom and soundness of soul (that is, temperance). Could a man recognize what was beautiful and good well enough to live by it? Did he also know what was "base and foul" well enough to avoid it? If so, Socrates considered him both wise and sound of soul (or temperate).
But compare IV. vi. 7 and K. Joel, op. cit. p. 363.
Reading {alla to... kai to}, or more literally, "he discovered the wise man and sound of soul in his power not only to recognise things 'beautiful and good,' but to live and move and have his being in them; as also in his gift of avoiding consciously things base." Or, if the reading is {alla ton... kai ton...}, translate: "The man who not only could recognise the beautiful and good, but lived, etc., in that world, and who moreover consciously avoided things base, in the judgment of Socrates was wise and sound of soul." Cf. Plat. "Charm."
And being further questioned whether "he considered those who have the knowledge of right action, but do not apply it, to be wise and self-controlled?"—"Not a whit more," he answered, "than I consider them to be unwise and intemperate. Every one, I conceive, deliberately chooses what, within the limits open to him, he considers most conducive to his interest, and acts accordingly. I must hold therefore that those who act against rule and crookedly are neither wise nor self-controlled.
He was then asked, "Do you consider people wise and self-controlled if they know what is right but do not do it?" He answered, "No more than I consider them unwise and lacking self-control. I believe everyone deliberately chooses what they think is most in their interest among the options available to them. They act accordingly. I must therefore hold that those who act wrongly and dishonestly are neither wise nor self-controlled.
For the phrase "not a whit the more", see below, III. xii. 1, and "Econ." xii. 18. Alternatively: "I should by no means choose to consider them wise and self-controlled rather than foolish and intemperate."
"Who cannot follow a straight line, morally speaking."
He said that justice, moreover, and all other virtue is wisdom. That is to say, things just, and all things else that are done with virtue, are "beautiful and good"; and neither will those who know these things deliberately choose aught else in their stead, nor will he who lacks the special knowledge of them be able to do them, but even if he makes the attempt he will miss the mark and fail. So the wise alone can perform the things which are "beautiful and good"; they that are unwise cannot, but even if they try they fail. Therefore, since all things just, and generally all things "beautiful and good," are wrought with virtue, it is clear that justice and all other virtue is wisdom.
He also said that justice and all other virtue are wisdom. He meant that just actions and all other actions done with virtue are "beautiful and good". Those who know these things will not deliberately choose to do anything else instead. Those who lack this special knowledge cannot do them. Even if they try, they will miss the mark and fail. So only the wise can do what is "beautiful and good". The unwise cannot, and even if they try, they fail. Therefore, since all just actions and, generally, all actions that are "beautiful and good" are done with virtue, justice and all other virtue are clearly wisdom.
On the other hand, madness (he maintained) was the opposite to wisdom; not that he regarded simple ignorance as madness, but he put it thus: for a man to be ignorant of himself, to imagine and suppose that he knows what he knows not, was (he argued), if not madness itself, yet something very like it. The mass of men no doubt hold a different language: if a man is all abroad on some matter of which the mass of mankind are ignorant, they do not pronounce him "mad"; but a like aberration of mind, if only it be about matters within the scope of ordinary knowledge, they call madness. For instance, any one who imagined himself too tall to pass under a gateway of the Long Wall without stooping, or so strong as to try to lift a house, or to attempt any other obvious impossibility, is a madman according to them; but in the popular sense he is not mad, if his obliquity is confined to small matters. In fact, just as strong desire goes by the name of passion in popular parlance, so mental obliquity on a grand scale is entitled madness.
On the other hand, he maintained that madness was the opposite of wisdom. He did not consider simple ignorance to be madness. Rather, he argued that being ignorant of oneself and imagining that one knows what one does not know was, if not madness itself, very like it. Most people, of course, speak differently. If someone is completely mistaken about a matter that most people know nothing about, they do not call him "mad". But they call a similar error madness if it concerns matters within ordinary knowledge. For example, suppose someone imagines he is too tall to pass under a gateway of the Long Wall without stooping. Or suppose he imagines he is strong enough to lift a house and tries to do so, or attempts some other obvious impossibility. Most people would call him a madman. But in the popular sense, he is not mad if his errors are confined to small matters. In fact, just as people call strong desire passion, they call errors of mind on a grand scale madness.
See K. Joel, op. cit. p. 346; Grote, "Plato," i. 400.
Or, "they resent the term 'mad' being applied to people who are all abroad," etc. See Comte, "Pos. Pol." i. 575, ii. 373 (Engl. trans.)
In answer to the question: what is envy? he discovered it to be a certain kind of pain; not certainly the sorrow felt at the misfortunes of a friend or the good fortune of an enemy—that is not envy; but, as he said, "envy is felt by those alone who are annoyed at the successes of their friends." And when some one or other expressed astonishment that any one friendlily disposed to another should be pained at his well-doing, he reminded him of a common tendency in people: when any one is faring ill their sympathies are touched, they rush to the aid of the unfortunate; but when fortune smiles on others, they are somehow pained. "I do not say," he added, "this could happen to a thoughtful person; but it is no uncommon condition of a silly mind."
Asked what envy is, he concluded that it is a kind of pain. It is not the sorrow felt at a friend’s misfortune or an enemy’s good fortune. As he said, "Only those who are upset by their friends’ successes feel envy." Someone expressed astonishment that a person could feel pain at the success of someone they cared about. He reminded that person of a common tendency. When someone is doing badly, people feel sympathy and rush to help. But when others enjoy good fortune, people are somehow pained. "I do not say," he added, "that this could happen to a thoughtful person, but it is not uncommon in a foolish mind."
Or, "a man in his senses... a simpleton". For the sentiment, see L. Dind. and compare Isocr. "ad Demonic." 7 D.
In answer to the question: what is leisure? I discover (he said) that most men do something: for instance, the dice player, 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.
In answer to the question of what leisure is, he said: I find that most people do something. For example, a dice player, a gambler, and a buffoon all do something. But they have leisure. If they like, they can turn to something better. But nobody has leisure to turn from something better to something worse. And if someone does so when they have no leisure, they do wrong.
See above, I. ii. 57. For these definitions, see K. Joel, op. cit. p. 347 foll.
For "dice-playing," see Becker, "Charicl." 354 (Engl. trans.). For "buffoonery," see the same work, 98, and "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, or are appointed by lot, or have stepped into office by violence or by fraud; but those who have the special knowledge 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.
(To turn to another definition.) He said that kings and rulers are not simply those who hold a scepter, or are chosen by people off the street, or are appointed by lot, or have taken office by force or fraud. Rather, kings and rulers are those who have the special knowledge needed to rule. He secured agreement that a ruler’s role is to command what should be done, and that the ruled must obey. He then gave examples to show what he meant. On a ship, the ruler or captain is the person with special knowledge. The shipowner and everyone else on board obey the captain as an expert. The same is true of a landowner managing a farm, a sick person, or a young athlete in training. In general, anyone directly concerned with a matter needing attention and care will handle it personally if confident of having the necessary knowledge. If not, that person will be eager to obey an expert on hand, or even send for one from a distance. The person will follow the expert’s guidance and do what the expert says.
Tom, Dick, and Harry (as we say).
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 so he liked to point out that, in spinning wool, women rule men. Why? Because women know how to spin wool, and men do 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?"
If anyone objected that a tyrant has the power to ignore sound advice, he would reply: "How can he choose not to follow it, when punishment hangs over anyone who disobeys wise counsel? Whatever the matter, if he ignores good advice, he will make a mistake, I presume. And when he makes a mistake, he will be punished." If someone suggested that the tyrant could, if he wished, cut off the wise man's head, he would answer: "Do you think a man who destroys his best ally will escape without consequences, or suffer only a small, temporary loss? Do you think he is more likely to save himself that way, or to bring about his own swift destruction?"
Or, "Is that to choose the path of safety, think you? Is it not rather to sign his own death-warrent?" L. Dind. cf. Hesiod, "Works and Days," 293. See Newman, op. cit. i. 393-397.
When some one asked him: "What he regarded as the best pursuit or business for a man?" he answered: "Successful conduct"; 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, and those who make this the serious business of their life seem to me to do well."
Someone asked him: "What do you consider the best pursuit or occupation for a man?" He answered: "Successful conduct." The person then asked: "Do you consider good fortune something to pursue?" He answered: "On the contrary, I consider fortune and conduct to be complete opposites. For example, I call it good fortune when someone achieves a desirable result without trying to do so. But I call it successful conduct when someone does something well through learning and practice. Those who make successful conduct the serious business of their lives seem to me to do well."
Or, "the noblest study."
{eupraxia, eu prattein} means doing well, both in the sense of acting rightly and of enjoying welfare. It is therefore contrasted with {eutukhia}, mere good luck or success. Cf. Plat. "Euthyd." 281 B.
Literally, "well-doing". 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 (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.
Those who do their work well are both the best and the dearest to God , he went on to say. For example, farmers who farm well, healers who do everything involved in healing well, and statesmen who handle affairs of state well are best and dearest to God. But a man who does nothing well, he added, is neither good for anything nor dear to God.
Or, "most divinely favoured." Compare Plat. "Euthyphro," 7 A.