THEAETETUS [20]
in which he has to speak of things which are at his feet and
before his eyes, he is the jest, not only of Thracian handmaids but of
the general herd, tumbling into wells and every sort of disaster
through his inexperience. His awkwardness is fearful, and gives the
impression of imbecility. When he is reviled, he has nothing
personal to say in answer to the civilities of his adversaries, for he
knows no scandals of any one, and they do not interest him; and
therefore he is laughed at for his sheepishness; and when others are
being praised and glorified, in the simplicity of his heart he
cannot help going into fits of laughter, so that he seems to be a
downright idiot. When he hears a tyrant or king eulogized, he
fancies that he is listening to the praises of some keeper of cattle-a
swineherd, or shepherd, or perhaps a cowherd, who is congratulated
on the quantity of milk which he squeezes from them; and he remarks
that the creature whom they tend, and out of whom they squeeze the
wealth, is of a less traitable and more insidious nature. Then, again,
he observes that the great man is of necessity as ill-mannered and
uneducated as any shepherd-for he has no leisure, and he is surrounded
by a wall, which is his mountain-pen. Hearing of enormous landed
proprietors of ten thousand acres and more, our philosopher deems this
to be a trifle, because he has been accustomed to think of the whole
earth; and when they sing the, praises of family, and say that someone
is a gentleman because he can show seven generations of wealthy
ancestors, he thinks that their sentiments only betray a dull and
narrow vision in those who utter them, and who are not educated enough
to look at the whole, nor to consider that every man has had thousands
and ten thousands of progenitors, and among them have been rich and
poor, kings and slaves, Hellenes and barbarians, innumerable. And when
people pride themselves on having a pedigree of twenty-five ancestors,
which goes back to Heracles, the son of Amphitryon, he cannot
understand their poverty of ideas. Why are they unable to calculate
that Amphitryon had a twenty-fifth ancestor, who might have been
anybody, and was such as fortune made him and he had a fiftieth, and
so on? He amuses himself with the notion that they cannot count, and
thinks that a little arithmetic would have got rid of their
senseless vanity. Now, in all these cases our philosopher is derided
by the vulgar, partly because he is thought to despise them, and
also because he is ignorant of what is before him, and always at a
loss.
Theod. That is very true, Socrates.
Soc. But, O my friend, when he draws the other into upper air, and
gets him out of his pleas and rejoinders into the contemplation of
justice and injustice in their own nature and in their difference from
one another and from all other things; or from the commonplaces
about the happiness of a king or of a rich man to the consideration of
government, and of human happiness and misery in general-what they
are, and how a man is to attain the one and avoid the other-when
that narrow, keen, little legal mind is called to account about all
this, he gives the philosopher his revenge; for dizzied by the
height at which he is hanging, whence he looks down into space,
which is a strange experience to him, he being dismayed, and lost, and
stammering broken words, is laughed at, not by Thracian handmaidens or
any other uneducated persons, for they have no eye for the
situation, but by every man who has not been brought up a slave.
Such are the two characters, Theodorus: the one of the freeman, who
has becomes trained in liberty and leisure, whom you call the
philosopher-him we cannot blame because he appears simple and of no
account when he has to perform some menial task, such as packing up
bed-clothes, or flavouring a sauce or fawning speech; the other
character is that of the man who is able to do all this kind of
service smartly and neatly, but knows not how to
before his eyes, he is the jest, not only of Thracian handmaids but of
the general herd, tumbling into wells and every sort of disaster
through his inexperience. His awkwardness is fearful, and gives the
impression of imbecility. When he is reviled, he has nothing
personal to say in answer to the civilities of his adversaries, for he
knows no scandals of any one, and they do not interest him; and
therefore he is laughed at for his sheepishness; and when others are
being praised and glorified, in the simplicity of his heart he
cannot help going into fits of laughter, so that he seems to be a
downright idiot. When he hears a tyrant or king eulogized, he
fancies that he is listening to the praises of some keeper of cattle-a
swineherd, or shepherd, or perhaps a cowherd, who is congratulated
on the quantity of milk which he squeezes from them; and he remarks
that the creature whom they tend, and out of whom they squeeze the
wealth, is of a less traitable and more insidious nature. Then, again,
he observes that the great man is of necessity as ill-mannered and
uneducated as any shepherd-for he has no leisure, and he is surrounded
by a wall, which is his mountain-pen. Hearing of enormous landed
proprietors of ten thousand acres and more, our philosopher deems this
to be a trifle, because he has been accustomed to think of the whole
earth; and when they sing the, praises of family, and say that someone
is a gentleman because he can show seven generations of wealthy
ancestors, he thinks that their sentiments only betray a dull and
narrow vision in those who utter them, and who are not educated enough
to look at the whole, nor to consider that every man has had thousands
and ten thousands of progenitors, and among them have been rich and
poor, kings and slaves, Hellenes and barbarians, innumerable. And when
people pride themselves on having a pedigree of twenty-five ancestors,
which goes back to Heracles, the son of Amphitryon, he cannot
understand their poverty of ideas. Why are they unable to calculate
that Amphitryon had a twenty-fifth ancestor, who might have been
anybody, and was such as fortune made him and he had a fiftieth, and
so on? He amuses himself with the notion that they cannot count, and
thinks that a little arithmetic would have got rid of their
senseless vanity. Now, in all these cases our philosopher is derided
by the vulgar, partly because he is thought to despise them, and
also because he is ignorant of what is before him, and always at a
loss.
Theod. That is very true, Socrates.
Soc. But, O my friend, when he draws the other into upper air, and
gets him out of his pleas and rejoinders into the contemplation of
justice and injustice in their own nature and in their difference from
one another and from all other things; or from the commonplaces
about the happiness of a king or of a rich man to the consideration of
government, and of human happiness and misery in general-what they
are, and how a man is to attain the one and avoid the other-when
that narrow, keen, little legal mind is called to account about all
this, he gives the philosopher his revenge; for dizzied by the
height at which he is hanging, whence he looks down into space,
which is a strange experience to him, he being dismayed, and lost, and
stammering broken words, is laughed at, not by Thracian handmaidens or
any other uneducated persons, for they have no eye for the
situation, but by every man who has not been brought up a slave.
Such are the two characters, Theodorus: the one of the freeman, who
has becomes trained in liberty and leisure, whom you call the
philosopher-him we cannot blame because he appears simple and of no
account when he has to perform some menial task, such as packing up
bed-clothes, or flavouring a sauce or fawning speech; the other
character is that of the man who is able to do all this kind of
service smartly and neatly, but knows not how to