No More Learning

For my part, Socrates, he answered me, I am still perswaded, as I have always been, that there is nothing more true than what the common Pro verb fays, that moderate Exercises cause a good Health,IsnotthatafineProofofit> Thatpoor Man with his Application to study, and his Desire to know every thing, see how he is: He has lost hisAppetiteanddoesnotsleep: He isasstiffas a Stake and as dry as a Match!
AtthesewordsthetwoyoungMenfellalaugh ing and the Philosopher bluslsd.
Seeing his Confusion I turn'd towards him, what doyoupretendtothen,laidI? Don'tyonconfess n o w that 'tis neither the great nor the small n u m ber of Exercises that cause Health ? But moderate Exercises,andtokeepdirectlyinthemid-way. Will you resist two ?
If I had to do with him only, said he, I would make my part good, and Ifindmy self strongenough toprovetohim whatIhaveadvanced,eventhough itshould be far less probable ; he's so far from beingadangerousEnemy. ButwithyouSocrates^ I will not dispute against my Opinion. I confess then that it is not the great number of Exercises but moderate Exercises that cause Health.
IsitnotthefamewithFood,saidI? Heagreed to it, and I made him confess the fame, as to all pther things that relate to the Body, that it was the just middle that was useful, and in no wise the too much hor ths too little* And as to what re-
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The Rivals.
latcstotheSoul, saidIafterwards, isitthequan tity ofYopdi that is given it which is useful or is it only a just Measure ?
Tis the just measure said he to me.
But, continued I, are not Sciences of the number o f t h o s e F o o d s o f t h e S o u l > H e a c k n o w l e d g e d it. AndconsequentlysaidItohim, Itisnotthegreat number *of Sciences that nourish the Soul well, but the just Measure, which is equally distant fromtoomuch andtoolittle? He acquiescedia it.
To whom thenshouldwe reasonablyaddressour selves,continuedI, to knowexactly what isthat just Measure of Food and Exercises that is useful fortheBody? We allthreeagreedthatitmustbe toaPhysicianortoa MasterofExercises. Andas tosowingofSeed,towhomshouldwe applyour
selvestoknowthatjustMeasure? ToaHusband man without doubt. And as to other Sciences, I add-, whom shallwe consulttoknow thejustMedi umthatmustbekeptinsowingorplantingthemin theSoul? Uponthatwefoundourselvesallthree equallyfullofDoubtsandUncertainties. Seeing we can't overcome this Difficulty, I told them smiling, shall we callthose two handsom young Youths to our Assistance, or shall we be asham'd to call them, * as Homer fays of Penelope's Lo vers,whonotbeingabletobendtheBow, would
nothaveitthatanyothercoulddoit>
When Isaw thattheydespairedoffindingwhat we soughtafter,ItookanotherMethod. WhatScien
ces, said I, shall we fix upon that a Philosopher ought to learn ? For we have agreed that he ought nottolearnthemall, noreventhegreatestpart.
' The learned Man, answering, said they ought to be the finest, the most Agreeable, and those that
In the* i Book os the Odyff. v. 18? . the Lovers of "Pe nelope, openly testifie the fear they were in that the Beggar^ who wasnotyetknowntobe"Vtiffes,shouldbendtheBow, whereof JWo/>e was to be the Reward.
could
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could do him the greatest Honour, and that no thing eould do him more Honour than to seem to understand all the Arts, or at Least the most part, and the most considerable, and that thus a Philoso pher ought to learn all the Arts that were worthy of an honest Man's Knowledge as well those that depend upon the Understanding as those that de pend upon Handiwork.
You mean, continued I, for Example, the Joyn-
ersTrade : One may have a very able Joyner for
fiveorsixMarks. That'saTradethatdependsup-Forifor
onHandiwork. And theArtofArchitecturede-2? Wolf.
pendsontheUnderstanding. Butyoucan'thavean
Architect for ten thousand Drachms ; for there are
yery few among the Greeks. Are not thole theF? ri? ?
fortsof Arts you mean ? When he had answereda S S ^
meyes,Iaskedhimifhedidnotthinkitimpoffi-Mce,>>
ble that a Man could learn two Artsperfectly, and Greece>>>>
much more to learna greatnumber, and thole alsoSocrateS the most difficult ? tme-
Upon that he answered me, don't you understand me, Socrates, 'tisnotmy meaning thata Philoso pher Ihould know those Arts as perfectly as the Masters, who practicethem, itissufficient that he knowsthemlikeaGentleman,soashemayunder stand what those Masters fay better than the Vulgar fortofMen, andalsobeabletogivehisOpini on,tothe end thathe may make itappearthathe
has a very fine and delicatetaste of all that issaid or done in relation to those Arts.
And I,as still doubting what his meaning was,iaid, fee,Iprayyou,ifIapprehendyour Ideaofa Philoso pher h you pretend that a Philosopher Ihould be the lamewiththeTradesmen*asaPentathleorCham pion who doesfivefortsofExercisesintheAcademy.
* This Passage is extraordinary fine, and furnifh'd ? o>>? /- nus with theIdeaof theComparisonhemadeofDemofihenet with Hiferldes, and which I have explained in the Remarks
upon that Rhetorician, cb*p, zB. p. 173. i' . . .
with
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The Rivals.
with the Runner or the Wrestler; For he isover come by all those Champions in the Exercises that is proper to each, and holds but the second Rank af terthem;whereasheisabovealltheotherCham pions who enter the Lists against him. Perhaps that's the effect which you pretend Philosophy pro duces upon those who follow it; they are truly below Masters in the Knowledge of every Art, but they are also superior to all other M e n w h o pre tendtojudgeofthem. Insomuch,thataccording to you, we must conceive a Philosopher, as a Man
who in every thing is below the Master that pro- feffeth it. That, I believe, is the Idea that you would give ofa Philosopher.
Very well, Socrates, said he to me, you have admirably well comprehended my meaning, and there is nothing more just than your Comparison -, for the Philosopher is truly a Man who does not keep to one thing, only like a Slave, so as to neg lect all others, as the Tradesmen do, in order to carry it to the last Perfection : But he applies him selfindifferently to all.
After this answer, as if I still desired to k n o w his meaning more clearly, I asked him if he believed thatableMen wereusefuloruseless?
I believe them to be very useful, Socrates, an swers he.
If the able are very useful, reply'd I, the unable are very useless>
He agreed to that.
But, said I, are the Philosophers useful or not > They are not only useful, answer'd he, but also
very useful.
tet us see then, reply'd I, ifyou say true, and let
us examine how it can be that those Philosophers, who hold only the second Rank in any thing what soever, should be so useful ; for by what you just now said,itisclearastheday,thatthePhiloso pher is inferior to Tradesmen in all the Arts which they profess.
He
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He agreestoit.
Oh ! saidI,let'ssee,ifyouoranyofyoutFriends forwhomyouhadagreatloveweresick? ,tellme^
I pray you, would you call a Philosopher, that in feriorMan, orwouldyousendforaPhificiantore coveryourHealth, orthatofyourFriend?
For m y parr, I would lend for both, answered he;1
Ah ! don't tell me that, answer'd I, you must chuse which ofthem you would rathercall?
If you take it that way, said he, I think there is no Body would hesitate, but would much rather call the Phifician.
And if you were in the middle of the Sea, tofs'd withafuriousTempest,towhomwouldyouaban
don the Conduct of your Ship, to the Philosopher or to the Pilot ?
To the Pilot, without doubt, said he.
Thus then,bothinaStormandinSicknels,andinall otherThings,while theArtistor the Master ofevery one of those Things is present, is not the Philosopher veryuseless? WouldhenotbeasitwereadumbPer son ?
So methinks, answer'd he.
And consequently, reply'd I, the Philosopher is a very useless Man : For we have Artists in every Thing, and we have agreed that the able are only useful,andthatothersarenor. Hewasobligedto
agreetoir. ShallIpresumetoaskyousomeother Things, said I to him,and will not you look upon it as clownish and rustick to ask you so many Questions ?
Askme whatyoushallthinkfit,answer'dhe.
I want nothing more than that we should agree again on what we have said. Methinks that we have agreed on one side, that Philosophy is a fine Thing j that there are Philosophers ; that Philoso phersareableMen ;thatableMen areuseful;and that unable Men are useless5 and that on the other hand, we have agreed that Philofopers are useless when we have People by that are Masters of every Profession,andtherearealwayssome. Isnotthat w h a t w e h a v e a g r e e d t o . *. ' T i s
? ? 334
the Rivals. sTisso, answer'd he.
And consequently, say I, seeing Philosophy, ac cording to you, is only the Knowledge of all Arts, while Arts (hall flourish among Men, the Philoso phers will not have any Lustre among them-, on the other hand, they will be altogether useless. But believemethePhilosophersarenotwhatwehave fancied to our selves ; and to be a Philosopher is not to meddle with all Arts, and to ipend his Life
in all Shops stooping and working like a Slave. Neitherisittolearnmanythings. Uponmyword itissomethingmoresublimeandmorenoble. For thatApplicationisshameful, and thosewho takeit upon them are only called Mechanicks and mean Tradesmen. The better tosee, if I speak true, answer me furtherIprayyou,whoarethosethatcanbreaka Horsewell? arenottheysuchascanmakehim better?
Yes.
And isit not the fame of Dogs ?
Yes. ThusoneandthefameArtbreaksthemandmakes
them better. Yes.
But that Art which breaks them, and makes them better, is it the fame by which one knows those thatarebad? Orisitanother?
No, saidhe'tisthefame.
WillyoulaythefamethingofMenreplyedI? The Art which makes them better is it the fame with that which reclaims them, and which knows thosewhoaregoodandthosewhoarebad?
'Tisthefame, saidhe.
Does the Art which judges of many judge also of One, and that which judges of one does it also judge of many ?
Yes.
Is it the fame, said I, of Horses, and of all otherAnimals? Heagreestoit. ButfayI,how do you call the Science or Art which Chastiseth and
reclaims the wicked Rake Hells that are in the Cities, and
? ? ? Without doubt.
the Rtvalsi, 3. 3$
andwho violate the Laws? IsitnotJudicature? And isnot this Art or Judicature, that which you call Justice>
Without doubt, answered he. . r.
ThussaidItohim, thatArtwhichservesthe Judges to correct the Wicked, serves also to make themknowwhoarewickedandwhoaregood?
Assuredly.
And the Judge who knows one of them may also know more ;and he who can'tknow many of them can'tknowone? Isit notso?
I confess it, said he.
Is it not aMb true, said I, that a Horse which knows not the other Horses that are good or bad, do'snotknow what he ishimself? Ifay asmuch of allotherAnimals.
He agreedto it.
Whythen,-addedI,aManwhoknowsnotMen if they be good or bad, is he not also ignorant what he is himself, tho' he be a M a n ?
That's most true, said he.
N o t to k n o w ones self, is it to be wise or to be a F o o l ? <<.
TobeaFool.
And consequently, continued I, to know ones selfistobewise. ThusthePreceptthatiswrote upontheGateoftheTemple of Ds/pbos,ExhortsKmv*h
us to apply our selves to Wisdom and Justice. ^* It is the fame Art that teacheth us to chastise and punish the Wicked ^ by the Rules of Wisdom, we know how toknowthem,andtoknow ourselvesalso.
That seems to me to be very truesaid he.
And consequently fay I, Justice and Wisdom are but the seme thing. And that which makes Cities well govern'd, and peopled, is the Punishment of theWicked. IsnotthattheoccasionofgoodGo vernment?
He agrees to it.
When aManfayI,governsa Cityor State well, wha<< nameisgiventothatMan? Ishenotcall'dKing?
Then
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'<--ThenlieGovernsbfaRoyalArt,bytheArtofKings,an<J
jsnotthatArt,thefamewiththosewejustnow spoke6f?
1SorntrhmkSr" '". ""r ? i.
When aprivateMan governhisHousewell,whatnameis
? iven to him ? Is he not call'd a good Steward or good Master ? STes.
ByfwhatArt. does he governs his'House so well ? Ts it not
bytpeArtofJustice5
Certainly. - '- <<->>! ? '- ? ? --? '. ? ; - ?
Then me thinks that King, Politician, Steward, Master, Just,-andWife arebutoneandthefamething: And that Royalty, Policy,. Oeconomy, Wisdom and Justiceare but
oneandthesameArt> ".
Heagreedwithme. "-'-'. - ' ' - , Whatthen,continuedI,shallaPhilosopherbeashamed
whtoaPhiManfhallfpeak beforehim, ofDistempers, or Tome othershallspeakofhisArt,Ifay(hallhebeashamed that he does not' understand what they fay, and that he can'tgive his kdVice? and when a King, a Magistrate, a Politician,an Oeconomistshall speak ot their Art, he shouldnotbeashamedthathecan'tunderstandthem norlay
any . thing of his own. Head ? .
""'How should ithot be much more shameful, Socrates, said
"? fcte-me nett(C) be able to say any thing upon so great and
so important things. ] , . U- But, continued l,sliall w e fix it, that oponthesc fame things
the Philosopher should he as the Pentathle, whcmrwe just '? now spoke of, that is to fay, always below the Masters, and that he isbut of the second Rank so that he will always be
uselesswhenthoseMastersarepresent? Or shallwe rather saythatheoughttoibeMasterhimself thathemay. notbe of the secondlank-'ahd may not giye h1S House to/he Con duct 6f another, but that he maty manage it himlelt in the RulesofWisdomandJustice, ifhewouldhaveitwellgo
verns, and that it stiould prosper? - ,,. Heaereethwith. me. . ,,. ? . . t t? . ?
, In fine, said t to him, if his Friends should abandon them
selves to his Conductor his City call him to the Office of the Magistracy, Or stiould order him to be Arbitrator upon pub- ick or private Affairs, would it not be a shame for him tc. be
Sy ofthesecondorthirdrankinsteadofbeingthehead?
So me thinks, said he. . . T
? Then my Dear, Philosophy wants much of being a Love
of all Sciences or an Applcation. to all Arts. At thele words theIearneSmbeingconfoundedknewnotwhattoanswer aridthe illiterate M*n assuredmethat Iwas in. theright. All the rest likewise submitted to those Proofs.
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