that a great reinforcement is coming to him, and by that stratagem inspires fresh courage into the soldiers, under what head shall we put this lie?" "Under the head of justice," answered Euthydemus. "And when a child will not take the physic that he has great need of, and his father makes it be given him in a mess of broth, and by that means the child recovers his health, to which shall we ascribe this deceit?" "To justice likewise." "And if a man, who sees his friend in despair, and fears he will kill himself, hides his sword from him, or takes it out of his hands by force, what shall we say of this violence?" "That it is just," replied Euthydemus. "Observe what you say," continued Socrates; "for it follows from your answers that we are not always obliged to live with our friends uprightly, and without any deceit, as we agreed we were." "No; certainly we are not, and if I may be permitted to retract what I said, I change my opinion very freely." "It is better," said Socrates, "to change an opinion than to persist in a wrong one. But there is still one point which we must not pass over without inquiry, and this relates to those whose deceits are prejudicial to their friends; for I ask you, which are most unjust, they who with premeditate design cheat their friends, or they who do it through inadvertency?" "Indeed," said Euthydemus, "I know not what to answer, nor what to believe, for you have so fully refuted what I have said, that what appeared to me before in one light appears to me now in another. Nevertheless, I will venture to say that he is the most unjust who deceives his friend deliberately." "Do you think," said Socrates, "that one may learn to be just and honest, as well as we learn to read and write?" "I think we may." "Which," added Socrates, "do you take to be the most ignorant, he who reads wrong on purpose, or he who reads wrong because he can read no better?" "The last of them," answered Euthydemus; "for the other who mistakes for pleasure need not mistake when he pleases." "Then," inferred Socrates, "he who reads wrong deliberately knows how to read; but he who reads wrong without design is an ignorant man." "You say true." "Tell me likewise," pursued Socrates, "which knows best what ought to be done, and what belongs to justice, he who lies and cheats with premeditate design, or he who deceives without intention to deceive?" "It is most plain," said Euthydemus, "that it is he who deceives with premeditate design." "But you said," replied Socrates, "that he who can read is more learned than he who cannot read?" "I did so." "Therefore he who best knows which are the duties of justice is more just than he that knows them not." "It seems to be so," answered Euthydemus, "and I know not well how I came to say what I did." "Indeed," said Socrates, "you often change your opinion, and contradict what you say; and what would you yourself think of any man who pretended to tell the truth, and yet never said the same thing; who, in pointing out to you the same road, should show you sometimes east, sometimes west, and who, in telling the same sum, should find more money at one time than another; what would you think of such a man?" "He would make all men think," answered Euthydemus, "that he knew nothing of what he pretended to know."
Socrates urged him yet further, and asked him: "Have you ever heard say that some men have abject and servile minds?" "I have." "Is it said of them because they are learned or because they are ignorant?" "Surely because they are ignorant." "Perhaps," said Socrates, "it is because they understand not the trade of a smith?" "Not in the least for that."
"Is it because they know not how to build a house, or to make shoes?" "By no means," said Euthydemus; "for most who are skilled in such professions have likewise abject and servile minds." "This character, then," pursued Socrates, "must be given to those who are ignorant of the noble sciences, and who know not what is just nor what is honourable?" "I believe so."
"We ought, therefore, Euthydemus, to do all we can to avoid falling into that ignominious ignorance that sinks us down so low." "Alas, Socrates!"
cried he out, "I will not lie for the matter; I thought I knew something in philosophy, and that I had learnt whatever was requisite to be known by a man who desired to make a practice of virtue; but judge how much I am afflicted to see that, after all my labours, I am not able to answer you concerning things which I ought chiefly to know; and yet I am at a loss what method to pursue in order to render myself more capable and knowing in the things I desire to understand." Upon this, Socrates asked him whether he had ever been at Delphi, and Euthydemus answered that he had been there twice. "Did you not take notice," said Socrates, "that somewhere on the front of the temple there is this inscription, 'KNOW THYSELF'?" "I remember," answered he, "I have read it there." "It is not enough," replied Socrates, "to have read it. Have you been the better for this admonition? Have you given yourself the trouble to consider what you are?" "I think I know that well enough," replied the young man, "for I should have found it very difficult to have known any other thing if I had not known myself." "But for a man to know himself well," said Socrates, "it is not enough that he knows his own name; for, as a man that buys a horse cannot be certain that he knows what he is before he has ridden him, to see whether he be quiet or restive, whether he be mettlesome or dull, whether he be fleet or heavy--in short, before he has made trial of all that is good and bad in him--in like manner, a man cannot say that he knows himself before he has tried what he is fit for, and what he is able to do." "It is true," said Euthydemus, "that whoever knows not his own strength knows not himself." "But," continued Socrates, "who sees not of how great advantage this knowledge is to man, and how dangerous it is to be mistaken in this affair? for he who knows himself knows likewise what is good for himself. He sees what he is able to do, and what he is not able to do; by applying himself to things that he can do, he gets his bread with pleasure, and is happy; and by not attempting to do the things he cannot do, he avoids the danger of falling into errors, and of seeing himself miserable. By knowing himself, he knows likewise how to judge of others, and to make use of their services for his own advantage, either to procure himself some good, or to protect himself from some misfortune; but he who knows not himself, and is mistaken in the opinion he has of his own abilities, mistakes likewise in the knowledge of others, and in the conduct of his own affairs. He is ignorant of what is necessary for him, he knows not what he undertakes, nor comprehends the means he makes use of, and this is the reason that success never attends his enterprises, and that he always falls into misfortunes. But the man who sees clear into his own designs generally obtains the end he proposes to himself, and at the same time gains reputation and honour. For this reason, even his equals are well pleased to follow his advices; and they whose affairs are in disorder implore his assistance, and throw themselves into his hands, depending upon his prudence to retrieve their affairs, and to restore them to their former good condition. But he who undertakes he knows not what, generally makes an ill choice, and succeeds yet worse; and the present damage is not the only punishment he undergoes for his temerity. He is disgraced for ever; all men laugh at him, all men despise and speak ill of him. Consider likewise what happens to Republics who mistake their own strength, and declare war against States more powerful than themselves; some are utterly ruined, others lose their liberty, and are compelled to receive laws from the conquerors."
"I am fully satisfied," said Euthydemus, "that a great deal depends on the knowledge of oneself. I hope you will now tell me by what a man must begin to examine himself." "You know," said Socrates, "what things are good and what are bad?" "Indeed," answered Euthydemus, "if I knew not that, I were the most ignorant of all men." "Then tell me your thoughts of this matter," said Socrates. "First," said Euthydemus, "I hold that health is a good and sickness an evil, and that whatever contributes to either of them partakes of the same qualities. Thus nourishment and the exercises that keep the body in health are very good; and, on the contrary, those that cause diseases are hurtful." "But would it not be better to say," replied Socrates, "that health and sickness are both good when they are the causes of any good, and that they are both bad when they are the causes of any ill?" "And when can it ever happen," said Euthydemus, "that health is the cause of any ill, and sickness the cause of any good?" "This may happen," answered Socrates, "when troops are raised for any enterprise that proves fatal; when men are embarked who are destined to perish at sea; for men who are in health may be involved in these misfortunes, when they who, by reason of their infirmities, are left at home, will be exempted from the mischiefs in which the others perish." "You say true," said Euthydemus, "but you see, too, that men who are in health are present in fortunate occasions, while they who are confined to their beds cannot be there." "It must therefore be granted," said Socrates, "that these things which are sometimes useful and sometimes hurtful are not rather good than bad." "That is, indeed, the consequence of your argument," replied Euthydemus; "but it cannot be denied that knowledge is a good thing; for what is there in which a knowing man has not the advantage of an ignorant one?" "And have you not read," said Socrates, "what happened to Daedalus for his knowing so many excellent arts, and how, being fallen into the hands of Minos, he was detained by force, and saw himself at once banished from his country and stripped of his liberty? To complete his misfortune, flying away with his son, he was the occasion of his being miserably lost, and could not, after all, escape in his own person; for, falling into the hands of barbarians, he was again made a slave. Know you not likewise the adventure of Palamedes, who was so envied by Ulysses for his great capacity, and who perished wretchedly by the calumnious artifices of that rival? How many great men likewise has the King of Persia caused to be seized and carried away because of their admirable parts, and who are now languishing under him in a perpetual slavery?" "But, granting this to be as you say," added Euthydemus, "you will certainly allow good fortune to be a good?" "I will," said Socrates, "provided this good fortune consists in things that are undoubtedly good." "And how can it be that the things which compose good fortune should not be infallibly good?"
"They are," answered Socrates, "unless you reckon among them beauty and strength of body, riches, honours, and other things of that nature." "And how can a man be happy without them?" "Rather," said Socrates, "how can a man be happy with things that are the causes of so many misfortunes?
For many are daily corrupted because of their beauty; many who presume too much on their own strength are oppressed under the burden of their undertakings. Among the rich, some are lost in luxury, and others fall into the snares of those that wait for their estates. And lastly, the reputation and honours that are acquired in Republics are often the cause of their ruin who possess them." "Certainly," said Euthydemus, "if I am in the wrong to praise good fortune, I know not what we ought to ask of the Deity." "Perhaps, too," replied Socrates, "you have never considered it, because you think you know it well enough.
"But," continued he, changing the subject of their discourse, "seeing you are preparing yourself to enter upon the government of our Republic, where the people are master, without doubt you have reflected on the nature of this State, and know what a democracy is?" "You ought to believe I do." "And do you think it possible," said Socrates, "to know what a democracy or popular State is without knowing what the people is?"
"I do not think I can." "And what is the people?" said Socrates. "Under that name," answered Euthydemus, "I mean the poor citizens." "You know, then, who are the poor?" "I do," said Euthydemus. "Do you know, too, who are the rich?" "I know that too." "Tell me, then, who are the rich and who are the poor?" "I take the poor," answered Euthydemus, "to be those who have not enough to supply their necessary expenses, and the rich to be they who have more than they have occasion for." "But have you observed," replied Socrates, "that there are certain persons who, though they have very little, have nevertheless enough, and even lay up some small matter out of it; and, on the contrary, there are others who never have enough how great soever their estates and possessions are?"
"You put me in mind," said Euthydemus, "of something very much to the purpose, for I have seen even some princes so necessitous that they have been compelled to take away their subjects' estates, and to commit many injustices." "We must, then," said Socrates, "place such princes in the rank of the poor, and those who have but small estates, yet manage them well, in the number of the rich." "I must give consent to all you say," answered Euthydemus, "for I am too ignorant to contradict you; and I think it will be best for me, from henceforward, to hold my peace, for I am almost ready to confess that I know nothing at all."
Having said this, he withdrew, full of confusion and self-contempt, beginning to be conscious to himself that he was indeed a person of little or no account at all. Nor was he the only person whom Socrates had thus convinced of their ignorance and insufficiency, several of whom never came more to see him, and valued him the less for it. But Euthydemus did not act like them. On the contrary, he believed it impossible for him to improve his parts but by frequently conversing with Socrates, insomuch that he never left him, unless some business of moment called him away, and he even took delight to imitate some of his actions.
Socrates, seeing him thus altered from what he was, was tender of saying anything to him that might irritate or discourage him; but took care to speak more freely and plainly to him of the things he ought to know and apply himself to.
CHAPTER III. PROOFS OF A KIND SUPERINTENDING PROVIDENCE.--WHAT RETURNS OF GRATITUDE AND DUTY MEN OUGHT TO MAKE TO GOD FOR HIS FAVOURS.--AN HONEST AND GOOD LIFE THE BEST SONG OF THANKSGIVING OR THE MOST ACCEPTABLE SACRIFICE TO THE DEITY.
As Socrates considered virtue and piety as the two grand pillars of a State, and was fully persuaded that all other qualifications whatever, without the knowledge and practice of these, would, instead of enabling men to do good, serve, on the contrary, to render them more wicked and more capable of doing mischief. For that reason he never pressed his friends to enter into any public office until he had first instructed them in their duty to God and mankind. But, above all, he endeavoured to instil into their minds pious sentiments of the Deity, frequently displaying before them high and noble descriptions of the Divine power, wisdom, and goodness. But seeing several have already written what they had heard him say in divers occasions upon this subject, I will content myself with relating some things which he said to Euthydemus when I myself was present.
"Have you never reflected, Euthydemus, on the great goodness of the Deity in giving to men whatever they want?" "Indeed, I never have," answered he. "You see," replied Socrates, "how very necessary light is for us, and how the gods give it us." "You say true," answered Euthydemus, "and without light we should be like the blind." "But because we have need of repose they have given us the night to rest in; the night, which, of all times, is the fittest for repose." "You are in the right," said Euthydemus, "and we ought to render them many praises for it."
"Moreover," continued Socrates, "as the sun is a luminous body, and by the brightness of his beams discovers to us all visible things, and shows us the hours of the day; and as, on the contrary, the night is dusky and obscure, they have made the stars to appear, which, during the absence of the day, mark the hours to us, by which means we can do many things we have occasion for. They have likewise made the moon to shine, which not only shows us the hours of the night, but teaches us to know the time of the month." "All this is true," said Euthydemus. "Have you not taken notice likewise that having need of nourishment, they supply us with it by the means of the earth? How excellently the seasons are ordered for the fruits of the earth, of which we have such an abundance, and so great a variety, that we find, not only wherewith to supply our real wants but to satisfy even luxury itself." "This goodness of the gods," cried Euthydemus, "is an evidence of the great love they bear to men." "What say you," continued Socrates, "to their having given us water, which is so necessary for all things? For it is that which assists the earth to produce the fruits, and that contributes, with the influences from above, to bring them to maturity; it helps to nourish us, and by being mingled with what we eat, makes it more easily got ready, more useful, and more delightful; in short, being of so universal an use, is it not an admirable providence that has made it so common? What say you to their having given us fire, which defends us from cold, which lights us when it is dark, which is necessary to us in all trades, and which we cannot be without in the most excellent and useful inventions of men?" "Without exaggeration," said Euthydemus, "this goodness is immense." "What say you, besides," pursued Socrates, "to see that after the winter the sun comes back to us, and that proportionably as he brings the new fruits to maturity, he withers and dries those whose season is going over; that after having done us this service he retires that his heat may not incommode us; and then, when he is gone back to a certain point, which he cannot transgress, without putting us in danger of dying with cold, he returns again to retake his place in this part of the heavens, where his presence is most advantageous to us? And because we should not be able to support either cold or heat, if we passed in an instant from one extreme to the other, do you not admire that this planet approaches us and withdraws himself from us by so just and slow degrees, that we arrive at the two extremes without almost perceiving the change?" "All these things," said Euthydemus, "make me doubt whether the gods have anything to do but to serve mankind. One thing puts me to a stand, that the irrational animals participate of all these advantages with us." "How!"
said Socrates, "and do you then doubt whether the animals themselves are in the world for any other end than for the service of man? What other animals do, like us, make use of horses, of oxen, of dogs, of goats, and of the rest? Nay, I am of opinion, that man receives not so much advantage from the earth as from the animals; for the greatest part of mankind live not on the fruits of the earth, but nourish themselves with milk, cheese, and the flesh of beasts; they get the mastery over them, they make them tame, and use them to their great advantage in war and for the other necessities of life." "I own it," said Euthydemus, "for some of them are much stronger than man, and yet are so obedient to him, that he does with them whatever he pleases."
"Admire yet further the goodness of the gods," said Socrates, "and consider, that as there is in the world an infinite number of excellent and useful things, but of very different natures, they have given us external senses, which correspond to each of those sensible objects, and by means of which senses we can perceive and enjoy all of them. They have, besides, endued us with reason and understanding, which enableth us to discern between those things that the senses discover to us, to inquire into the different natures of things useful and things hurtful, and so to know by experience which to choose and which to reject. They have likewise given us speech, by means whereof we communicate our thoughts to each other, and instruct one another in the knowledge of whatever is excellent and good; by which also we publish our laws and govern States. In fine, as we cannot always foresee what is to happen to us, nor know what it will be best for us to do, the gods offer us likewise their assistance by the means of the oracles; they discover the future to us when we go to consult them, and teach us how to behave ourselves in the affairs of life."
Here Euthydemus, interrupting him, said, "And indeed these gods are in this respect more favourable to you than to the rest of mankind, since, without expecting you to consult them, they give you notice of what you ought or ought not to do." "You will allow, therefore, that I told you true," said Socrates, "when I told you there were gods, and that they take great care of men; but expect not that they will appear to you, and present themselves before your eyes. Let it suffice you to behold their works, and to adore them, and be persuaded that this is the way by which they manifest themselves to men, for among all the gods that are so liberal to us there is not one who renders himself visible to confer on us his favours. And that Supreme God, who built the universe, and who supports this great work, whose every part is accomplished in beauty and goodness; He, who is the cause that none of its parts grow old with time, and that they preserve themselves always in an immortal vigour, who is the cause, besides, that they inviolably obey His laws with a readiness that surpasses our imagination; He, I say, is visible enough in the so many wondrous works of which He is author, but our eyes cannot penetrate even into His throne to behold Him in these great occupations, and in that manner it is that He is always invisible. Do but consider that the sun, who seems to be exposed to the sight of all the world, does not suffer us to gaze fixedly upon him, and whoever has the temerity to undertake it is punished with sudden blindness. Besides, whatever the gods make use of is invisible; the thunder is lanced from above, it shatters all it finds in its way, but we see it not fall, we see it not strike, we see it not return. The winds are invisible, though we see the desolations they daily make, and easily feel when they grow boisterous.
If there be anything in man that partakes of the divine nature it is his soul, which, beyond all dispute, guides and governs him, and yet we cannot see it. Let all this, therefore, teach you not to neglect or disbelieve the Deity, because He is invisible; learn to know His presence and power from the visible effects of it in the world around you; be persuaded of the universal care and providence of the all-surrounding Deity from the blessings He showers down upon all His creatures, and be sure to worship and serve this God in a becoming manner."
"I am sure," said Euthydemus, "I shall never derogate from the respect due to the gods; and I am even troubled that every man cannot sufficiently acknowledge the benefits he receives from them." "Be not afflicted at that," said Socrates, "for you know what answer the Delphian Oracle is wont to return to those who inquire what they ought to do in order to make an acceptable sacrifice. 'Follow the custom of your country,' says he to them. Now, it is a custom received in all places for every man to sacrifice to them according to his power; and by consequence there is no better nor more pious a way of honouring the gods than that, since they themselves ordain and approve it. It is indeed a truth that we ought not to spare anything of what we are able to offer, for that would be a manifest contempt. When, therefore, a man has done all that is in his power to do, he ought to fear nothing and hope all; for, from whence can we reasonably hope for more, than from those in whose power it is to do us the greatest good? And by what other way can we more easily obtain it, than by making ourselves acceptable to them?
And how can we better make ourselves acceptable to them, than by doing their will?"
This is what Socrates taught, and by this doctrine, which was always accompanied with an exemplary devotion, he greatly advanced his friends in piety.
CHAPTER IV. INSTANCES OF THE INVIOLABLE INTEGRITY OF SOCRATES.--HIS CONVERSATION WITH HIPPIAS CONCERNING JUSTICE.
Concerning justice, it cannot be said that Socrates concealed his opinion of it, for he plainly revealed his sentiments by his actions, as well in public as in private, making it his business to serve every man, and to obey the magistrates and the laws; insomuch, that as well in the army as in the city, his obedience and uprightness rendered him remarkable above all others. He fully discovered the integrity of his soul, when he presided in the assemblies of the people; he would never pass a decree that was contrary to the laws; he alone defended the cause of justice against the efforts of the multitude, and opposed a violence which no man but himself was able to resist. Again, when the Thirty commanded him anything that was unjust, he did not obey them. Thus, when they forbid him to speak to the young men, he regarded not their inhibition, and when they gave orders to him, as well as to some other citizens, to bring before them a certain man, whom they intended to put to death, he alone would do nothing in it, because that order was unjust. In like manner when he was accused by Melitus, though in such occasions others endeavour to gain their judges by flatteries and ignominious solicitations, which often procure them their pardon, he would not put in practice any of these mean artifices that are repugnant to the laws, and yet he might very easily have got himself acquitted, if he could have prevailed with himself to comply in the least with the custom, but he chose rather to die in an exact observance of the laws, than to save his life by acting contrary to them, for he utterly abhorred all mean or indirect practices; and this was the answer he gave to several of his friends who advised him to the contrary.
Since I am now illustrating the character of Socrates with regard to justice, I will, at the same time, relate a conversation I remember he had with Hippias of Elis on that subject.
It was a long while that Hippias had not been at Athens; and being arrived there, he happened to come to a place where Socrates was discoursing with some persons, and telling them that if any one had a mind to learn a trade, there wanted not masters to teach him; nay, that if one would have a horse trained up there were persons enough to undertake it; but that if one desired to learn to be a good man, or to have his son, or any of his family taught to be so, it would be difficult to know to whom to apply himself. Hippias rallying him, said:--"What!
Socrates, you are still repeating the same things I heard you say so long ago." "Nay, more," replied Socrates, "and always upon the same subject; but you, perhaps, being learned as you are, do not always say the same thing upon the same subject." "Indeed," said Hippias, "I always endeavour to say something new." "Is it possible," replied Socrates?
"Pray tell me if you were asked how many letters there are in my name, and which they are, would you answer sometimes in one manner and sometimes in another? Or if you were asked whether twice five be not ten, would you not always say the same thing?" "In subjects like those," said Hippias, "I should be obliged to say the same thing as well as you; but since we are upon the theme of justice, I believe I can now say some things of it, against which, neither you nor any man else can make any objection." "Good God!" cried Socrates, "what a mighty boast is here!
Upon my word, Hippias, you have made an admirable discovery! and you have reason to value yourself upon it; for, let me tell you, if you can establish one single opinion of justice, the judges will be no longer divided in their sentiments, there will be no more quarrels, no more suits at law, no more seditions among citizens, no more wars between republics. Indeed, it much troubles me to leave you before you have taught me this secret, which you say you have discovered." "I give you my word," answered Hippias, "that I will tell you nothing of it, till you have first declared your own opinion concerning justice; for it is your old way to interrogate others, and then to laugh at them by refuting what they have said; but you never make known your own opinions, that you may not be obliged to give a reason for them." "Why do you lay this to my charge," said Socrates, "since I am continually showing to all the world what are the things I believe to be just?" "How do you show it?" said Hippias. "If I explain it not by my words," answered Socrates, "my actions speak it sufficiently; and do you think that actions deserve not rather to be believed than words?" "Much rather," said Hippias, "because many may say one thing, and do another; nay, we see that, in fact, many who preach up justice to others are very unjust themselves; but this cannot be said of a man whose every action is good, and that never in his life did an unjust thing." "Have you known, then," said Socrates, "that I have accused any man out of malice, that I have sown dissension among friends, that I have raised seditions in the Republic; in short, that I have committed any other sort of injustice?" "Not in the least," said he. "Well, then," added Socrates, "do you not take him to be just who commits no manner of injustice?" "It is plain, now,'" said Hippias, "that you intend to get loose, and that you will not speak your mind freely, nor give us an exact definition of justice. For all this while you have only shown what just men do not, but not what they do." "I should have thought," said Socrates, "I had given at once a good definition, and a clear instance of justice, when I called it an aversion from doing injustice. But since you will not allow it to be so, see whether this will satisfy you: I say, then, that justice 'is nothing but the observance of the laws.'" "You mean," said Hippias, "that to observe the laws is to be just?" "Yes," answered Socrates. "I cannot comprehend your thought," said Hippias. "Do you not know," pursued Socrates, "what the laws in a State are?" "The laws," answered Hippias, "are what the citizens have ordained by an universal consent." "Then," inferred Socrates, "he who lives conformably to those ordinances observes the laws; and he who acts contrary to them is a transgressor of the laws."
"You say true." "Is it not likewise true," continued Socrates, "that he who obeys these ordinances does justly, and that he obeys them not does unjustly?" "Yes." "But," said Socrates, "he who acts justly is just, and he who acts unjustly is unjust?" "Without doubt." "Therefore," said Socrates, "whosoever observes the laws is just, and whosoever observes them not is unjust." "But how can it be imagined," objected Hippias, "that the laws are a good thing, and that it is good to obey them, since even they that made them mend, alter, and repeal them so often?" To this Socrates answered, "When you blame those who obey the laws, because they are subject to be abrogated, you do the same thing as if you laughed at your enemies for keeping themselves in a good posture of defence during the war, because you might tell them that the peace will one day be made: and thus you would condemn those who generously expose their lives for the service of their country. Do you know," added he, "that Lycurgus could never have rendered the Republic of Sparta more excellent than other States if he had not made it his chief care to incline the citizens most exactly to observe the laws? This, too, is what all good magistrates aim at, because a Republic that is obedient to the laws is happy in peace, and invincible in war. Moreover, you know that concord is a great happiness in a State. It is daily recommended to the people; and it is an established custom all over Greece to make the citizens swear to live in good understanding with one another, and each of them takes an oath to do so. Now, I do not believe that this unity is exacted of them, only that they might choose the same company of comedians, or of musicians, nor that they might give their approbation to the same poets, or all take delight in the same diversions, but that they may all unanimously obey the laws, because that obedience is the security and the happiness of the State. Concord, therefore, is so necessary, that without it good polity and authority cannot subsist in any State, nor good economy and order in any family.
"In our private capacity, likewise, how advantageous is it to obey the laws? By what means can we more certainly avoid punishments, and deserve rewards? What more prudent conduct can we observe, always to gain our suits at law, and never to be cast! To whom should we with greater confidence trust our estates or our children, than to him who makes a conscience of observing the laws? Who can deserve more of his country?
whom can she more safely entrust with public posts, and on whom can she more justly bestow the highest honours, than on the good and honest man?
Who will discharge himself better of his duty towards his father or his mother, towards his relations or his domestics, towards his friends, his fellow-citizens, or his guests? To whom will the enemy rather trust for the observing of a truce, or for the performance of a treaty of peace?
With whom would we rather choose to make an alliance? To whom will the allies more readily give the command of their armies, or the government of their towns? From whom can we rather hope for a grateful return of a kindness than from a man who strictly obeys the laws? and, by consequence, to whom will men be more ready to do good turns, than to him of whose gratitude they are certain? With whom will men be better pleased to contract a friendship, and, consequently, against whom will men be less inclined to commit acts of hostility, than against that person who has everybody for his well-wisher and friend, and few or none for his ill-wishers or enemies? These, Hippias, are the advantages of observing the laws. And now, having shown you that the observance of the