Be Cautious in Forming Close Relationships

If a man has frequent intercourse with others either for talk, or drinking together, or generally for social purposes, he must either become like them, or change them to his own fashion. For if a man places a piece of quenched charcoal close to a piece that is burning, either the quenched charcoal will quench the other, or the burning charcoal will light that which is quenched. Since then the danger is so great, we must cautiously enter into such intimacies with those of the common sort, and remember that it is impossible that a man can keep company with one who is covered with soot without being partaker of the soot himself. For what will you do if a man speaks about gladiators, about horses, about athletes, or what is worse about men? Such a person is bad, such a person is good: this was well done, this was done badly. Further, if he scoff, or ridicule, or show an ill-natured disposition? Is any man among us prepared like a lute-player when he takes a lute, so that as soon as he has touched the strings, he discovers which are discordant, and tunes the instrument? such a power as Socrates had who in all his social intercourse could lead his companions to his own purpose? How should you have this power? It is therefore a necessary consequence that you are carried about by the common kind of people.

If a man often spends time with others, talking, drinking, or simply socializing, he must either become like them or change them to be like himself. If he puts a piece of cold charcoal next to a burning piece, one of two things will happen. Either the cold charcoal will put out the burning piece, or the burning piece will light the cold one. Since the danger is so great, we must be cautious about becoming close to ordinary people. Remember that you cannot keep company with someone covered in soot without getting soot on yourself. What will you do if someone talks about gladiators, horses, athletes, or, worse still, other people? This person is bad, that person is good. This was done well, that was done badly. And what if he mocks or ridicules others, or shows a spiteful nature? Is any of us prepared to act like a lute player? As soon as he touches the strings, he can tell which are out of tune and tune them. Does any of us have the power Socrates had? In all his dealings with others, he could lead his companions toward his own purpose. How could you have that power? So you must inevitably be carried along by ordinary people.

Why then are they more powerful than you? Because they utter these useless words from their real opinions: but you utter your elegant words only from your lips; for this reason they are without strength and dead, and it is nauseous⁵²⁴ to listen to your exhortations and your miserable virtue, which is talked of every where (up and down). In this way the vulgar have the advantage over you: for every opinion (δόγμα) is strong and invincible. Until then the good (κομψαί) sentiments (ὑπολήψεις) are fixed in you, and you shall have acquired a certain power for your security, I advise you to be careful in your association with common persons: if you are not, every day like wax in the sun there will be melted away whatever you inscribe on your minds in the school. Withdraw then yourselves far from the sun so long as you have these waxen sentiments. For this reason also philosophers advise men to leave their native country, because antient habits distract them and do not allow a beginning to be made of a different habit; nor can we tolerate those who meet us and say: See such a one is now a philosopher, who was once so and so. Thus also physicians send those who have lingering diseases to a different country and a different air; and they do right. Do you also introduce other habits than those which you have: fix your opinions and exercise yourselves in them. But you do not so: you go hence to a spectacle, to a show of gladiators, to a place of exercise (ξυστόν), to a circus; then you come back hither, and again from this place you go to those places, and still the same persons. And there is no pleasing (good) habit, nor attention, nor care about self and observation of this kind, How shall I use the appearances presented to me? according to nature, or contrary to nature? how do I answer to them? as I ought, or as I ought not? Do I say to those things which are independent of the will, that they do not concern me? For if you are not yet in this state, fly from your former habits, fly from the common sort, if you intend ever to begin to be something.

Why, then, are they more powerful than you? Because they speak these useless words from convictions they genuinely hold. But your elegant words come only from your lips. That is why they are weak and lifeless. It is nauseating⁵²⁴ to listen to your exhortations and your miserable virtue, which you talk about everywhere. In this way, ordinary people have the advantage over you. Every conviction (δόγμα) is strong and invincible. Until your good (κομψαί) beliefs (ὑπολήψεις) are firmly established, you need to develop the strength to keep them secure. Meanwhile, I advise you to be careful about associating with ordinary people. If you are not, whatever you impress on your minds at school will melt away each day, like wax in the sun. Stay far from the sun, then, as long as your beliefs are made of wax. This is also why philosophers advise people to leave their native country. Old habits distract them and prevent them from beginning to form different ones. Nor can we bear to meet people who say: Look at him, a philosopher now, when he used to be such and such. In the same way, doctors send people with lingering diseases to a different country and a different climate. They are right to do so. You too should adopt different habits. Establish your convictions and put them into practice. But you do not. You leave here for a spectacle, a gladiator show, a place for exercise (ξυστόν), or a circus. Then you come back here, only to return to those places again, among the same people as before. You have no good habits, no attention or care for yourselves, and no practice of asking: How should I respond to the impressions I receive? In accordance with nature, or against it? How do I respond to them? As I should, or as I should not? Do I tell myself that things outside my will do not concern me? If you are not yet at this point, flee your old habits and flee ordinary people, if you ever intend to begin to be something.