jj0
teceiv'd his last Looks, which continued fix'd upon him.
teceiv'd his last Looks, which continued fix'd upon him.
Plato - 1701 - Works - a
Theyformseveral very great and large Currents ; but there are four (a) principalones,thegreatestofwhichistheouter mostofall,and iscall'dtheOcean.
Opposite to that is Acheron, which runs through the defart Places,and diving through the Earth, falls intotheMarsh, which fromitiscall'dtheAcberu-
JianLakes,whitherallSoulsrepairupon theirde parture from thisBody ; and having stay'd thereall the time appointed, some a shorter some a longer time, are sent back to this World to animate Beasts.
Between Acheron and the Ocean, there runs a third River, which retires again not far from its Source, and falls into a vast space full of Fire : There it forms a Lake greater than our Sea, in which the Water mix'd with Mud boils, and setting out from thence all black and muddy, runs along the Earth to the end of the Acherufian Lake without m i x i n g w i t h i t s W a t e r s ? , a n d a f t e r h a v i n g m a d e s e
veral turnings under the Earth, throws it self under neath Tartarus ; and this isthe flaming River call'd Fhlegeton, the Streams whereof are seen to fly up upon the Earth in several Places.
Opposite to this is the fourth River, which falls first into a horrible wild Place, of a bluish Colour, call'd by the name of Stygian, where it forms the
(a) These four Rivers which have their Course in the places appointed for the punishment of the Wicked, might have been imagin'd from the four Rivers of the Terrestrial "Pa radise. As the Apartmeut of the just was water'd by four Rivers, which enlarg'd its Delightfulness ; 'twas proper that theApartmentoftheWickedshouldlikewisebewater'dby four Rivers of a contrary nature, which might add to the Horror of that Place of Darkness and Sorrow.
for-
? ? of the Immqrtality of the Soul. 17j
formidable Lake of Styx, And after it has tin- ctufd itselfwithhorriblequalitiesfrom theWa ters of that Lake, dives into the Earth, where it makes several turns, and directing its Course over- against Pblegeton, at last meets it in the Lake of Acheron^where itdoesnotmingleitsWaterswith those of the other Rivers, but after it has run its round on the Earth, throws it self into the Tarta rusbyaPassageoppositetothatofPhlegeton. This
fourthRiveris'call'dbythePoetsCocytus. Nature
h a v i n g t h u s d i s p o s ' d o f a l l t h e s e T h i n g s -, w h e n t h e T h e ? d Dead arrive at the Place whither their Demon leads mmt "fg~ha
them, they are all tried and judged, both those thatG<w and. liv'd a holy and just Life, and those who wallow'd*'*^- in Injustice and Impiety.
Those who are found to have liv'd neither entire-n,ej>>ig.
ly a criminal nor absolutely an innocent Life, are >><<* >>f senttotheAcheron. TheretheyimbarkinBoats,t,mse>. "*>>
and are transported to the Acherufian Lake, where ZbsoiMeh
they 'dwell, and suffer Punishment proportionablecriminal t o t h e i r C r i m e s ? , t i l l a t l a s t b e i n g p u r g ' d a n d c l e a n - >> < " ? >> >> >> * ?
led from their Sins, and set at Liberty, they receive"*'*
the RecomDence of their good Actions. - ? Those whose Sins are uncurable, and have been ^J"ig~
g u i l t y o f S a c r i l e g e a n d M u r d e r , o r s u c h o t h e r C r i m e s , those w h o are by a just and fatal Destiny, thrown headlong are guilty into Tartarus, where they are kept Prisonersfor"/"""'^
ever. . >
But those who are found guilty of curable (Venial) Sins, tho very great ones,suchasofferingViolencetotheir FatherorMotherinaPassion,orkilling
a Man and repenting for it all their lifetime j must of necessity be likewise
cast into Tartarus : But after a Years abodethere,theTidethrowstheHo-
micides backLinto Cocytus, and the Par- ncidesintoPhkgeton,whichdrawsthem intothe Acherufian Lake*: There they
cry out bitterly,and invoque those ir; ,. /. . :;,'. . ,. . . . ? : . - ? ,-
Sms'
"&*Sentenceuponthoft j? "tJ%ti? bs? T tTMe\ cm 'y **"*"
, ',*? *"*&*h<TM*n*
S t A ' S ' K u? ga-Parentisanine^ miflibleSin.
whom
? ? lyz Phedon : Or, 4 Dialogue
whom theykill'doroffer'dViolenceto,toaidthem; and conjure them to forgive 'em, and to suffer 'em topasstheLake,andgivethemadmittance. If they're prevail'd with, they pass the Lake, and
Socrates are deliver'd from their Misery-, if not, they
TtilZaun arecastagain into Tartarus^ which throws them mLstfZ- backintothese Rivers? ,and thiscontinuestobere-
cedethe peated,tilltheyhavesatisfiedtheinjur'dPer- ? Pardonofsons. ForsuchistheSentencepronounc'dagainst
s""- them.
Butthosewho havedistinguifh'dthemselvesbya holy Life, are releas'd from these earthly Places, these horrible Prisons ? ,and are receiv'd above into
that pure Earth, where they dwell -,and those of 'em who are sufficiently purg'd by Philosophy, live for ever without their Body ; and are receiv'd into
yetmore admirable and deliciousMan- . sfoiMf a gre^Er- fions, which I cannot easily describe,
&TFJl? ? Z TMrher? do theTM? TM Limitsofmy the&d-ycouldhegiori- lmieallowmetolaunchintothatSub-
fied. " ject.
. //r. r ,. What I told you but now, is suffici-
tl^iSTsfS cient>>>7dwSimmias,toshewthat
fireui.
we ought to labour all our lifetime
to purchase Vertue and Wisdom, since we have so great a Hope, and so great a Reward propos'd to us.
N o M a n of Sense can pretend to assure you, that alltheseThings arejust asyou have heard. But allthinkingMen willbepositivethat
t^SrtT^ <hestatf<**? Soul,and& Placeof notpositTMoftheMan. 1? sabodeafterdeath,isabsolutelysuch tr. as I represent it to be, or at least very
near it, provided the Soul be Immor- Wlmtvanger morein- tai. And will certainly find it worth
^? KfsforZ'! ^ ? while. toruntheRisque:Forwhat Gain? Danger is more inviting? One must
needs be charm'd with that blessed Hope. AndforthisReasonIhavedilateda. fitde upon thisSubject.
Every
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 175
Every one that during his life-time renounc'd the
Pleasures of the Body, that look'd upon the Appur
tenances of the Body as foreign Ornaments, and
fiding with the contrary Party, pursued only the
Pleasures of truevKnowledge, and beautified hisrhtTied-
Soul, not with foreign Ornaments, but with Orna-/>><<*"strut ments, suitable toitsnature,suchasTemperance,KnwiedZe-
juliice, Fortitude, Liberty andTruth : Such a one, beingfirmly confident oftheHappinessofhisSoul,^ MtMt ought to wait peaceably for the Hour of his remo- oZament, val, as being always ready for the Voyage, wheno/"t/*W. ever his Fate calls him.
Asforyou,mydearSimmiasandCebes,andall youofthisCompany,youshallallfollowmewhen yoiHourcomes. Mineisnow,andasatragical I'cet would lay, the surly Pilot calls me abroad; wherefore'tistimeIshouldgototheBath:ForI think "tis better to drink the Poyson after I am wash'd,inordertosavetheWomenthetroubleof washing me afterI'm dead.
Socrates having thus spoke, Crito address'd him- ? selfto Socrates, thus: Alas then! inGod'sName beit:ButwhatOrdersdo yougiveme andtherest here present, with reference to your Children or your Affairs, that by putting them in execution, we may at least have the Comfort of obliging you ?
What I now recommend toyou,Crito, replies So
crates, is what I always recommended, viz. ToT? af""~
takeCareofyourselves. Youcannotdoyourselves^wfw a more considerable piece of Service, nor oblige m e * W they and my Family more, (a) than to promise me atf4*<<Care? /
themfelyts.
(a) There'sagreatdealofSenseinwhatSocratesheretells^\'ST
hisFriends:Hedesires'emonlytotakeCareofthemselves,? "r? because if they take Care of themselves, they'll prove good ~ t,at
Men;and,beingsuch,willdoallgoodOfficestohisFami- ra-fer'
ly,tho'theydidnotpromiseit:For goodMenarehonest, and take pleasure in doing Good, and love their Neighbour. Whereas if they neglect themselves,notwithstanding all their faitPromises,theywould notbecapabletodoanythingei therforhimorthemselves. Nonebutgood-MencandoSer vices. How greatisthisTruth!
this
? ? 174
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
thistimesotodo. Whereasifyouneglect:youi selves, and refuse to form your Lives according to the (b) Model I always proposed to you, and follow it as itwere by the footsteeps ; all your Protesta tions and offers of Service will be altogether useless
to me.
W e shall do our utmost. , Socrates, replies Crito, to
obeyyou. Buthowwillyoubeburied? Justasyou please,saysSocrates$ifyoucanbur catchme,andifIdonotgiveyoutheflip. Atthe fame time, looking upon us with a gentle smile, I
cannot,fayshe,compassmy EndinpersuadingCriti that this is Socrates who discourses with you and methodises all the Parts of his Discourse ; and /rill he fanfiesthat Socratesisthethingthat shallsee Death by and by. He confounds me with my Corps-, and in that view asks how 1 must be bu ried ? And all this long Discourse that I made to you but now, in order to make it out, that as soon as I shall have taken down the Poyson, I shall stay no longer with you, but shall part from hence and go to enjoy the Felicity of the Blessed -,in a word, all that I have said for your Consolation and mine, isto no purpose, but itisall lost, with reference to him. 1begofyouthat. youwouldbeBailforme toCrito,but after acontrary manner to thatin whichheoffer'dtoBailmetomyJudges$forhe engag'd that I would not be gone : Pray engage sot me, that I shall no sooner be dead, but 1 shall k gone, to the end that poor Crito may bear ray death more steddily , and when he sees m y Body burnt or interr'd, may not despair, as if I suffer'd great Misery $ and say at m y Funeral, that Socrata is laid out, Socrates iscarried out, Socrates is in terr'd. Foryoumustknow,mydearCrito,fayshe turning to him, that speaking amiss of Death is
Q>) This Model is God ;for he stilltold 'em that they should render themselves conformable to God, as m u c h as hu man Weakness would btar.
not
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 175
not only a Fault in the way of speaking, but like
wise wounds the Soul. You shou'd have more***D's-
Courage andHope, and saythatmy Body istobeJf^JjJJ- interr'd. Thatyoumayinterrasyoupleafe,andj*STr. inthe. manner that'smostconformabletoourLawstheSaid. and Customs. ,
Having spoke thus, he role and went into the next Room to bathe. Crito follow'd him, and he desiredweshouldattendhim. Accordinglyweall attended him, and entertain'd our selves one while with a Repetition and farther Examination of what hehadsaid,another whileinspeakingofthemise rableStatethatwas beforeus. Forwe all look'd
upon our selves as Persons depriv'd of our good Fa ther, that were about to pass the rest of our Life in an Orphan-state.
After he came out of the Bath, they brought his Children to him ? , for he had three, two little ones,
and one thatwas prettybig:And theWomen of hisFamilycameallintohim. Hespoketothem some time" in the presence of Crito, gave 'em their Orders, and order'd 'em to retire, carry his Chil dren along with 'em, and then came back to us, 'Twas then towards Sun setting, for he had been 9. lone while inthelittleRoom.
When he came in he sat down upon hisBed, without saying much : For much about the same time the Officerof the Eleven Magistrates came in, and drawing near to him, Socrates, lays he, I have no occasion to make the same Complaint of you, that 1 have every day of those in the same Condi tion : For as soon as I come to acquaint 'em, by Orders from the Eleven Magistrates, that they must drink the Poyson, they are incens'd against me and curseme:Butasforyou,eversinceyoucamein to this Place, I have found you to be the most eventemper'd,thecalmestandthebestMan thatever enter'dthisPrison;andIam confidentthatatpresent you are not angry with me -,doubtless you ar<< an gry with none but those who arc the cause ot
your -rr*.
? ? torn.
longer.
Whereupon Crito gave the Sign to the Slave that
waitedjustby. TheSlavewentout,andafterhe had spent some time in brewing the Poyson, re- turn'd accompanied by him that was to give it* and
(a) This affords us an admirable Prospect of the infinite differencebetweenSocratesandthosebrutishMen,who died without any other Sentiments of their Misery.
ij6
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
your misfortune. You know 'em without naming. On thisOccasion, Socrates,youknow what Icome to tell you -,farewell, endeavour to bear this Ne cessitywithaconstantMind. Haviigspokethus, he began to cry, and turning his Back upon us, re-
tir'd a little. Farewell my Friend, fays Socrates, looking upon him, 111 follow the Counsel thou gi- vest me. Mind, says he, what Honesty is in that Fellow:DuringmyImprisonmenthecameoftento lee me, and Hiscours'd with me : He's more worth than all the rest: How heartily he cries for me ! Let us obey him with a handsom meen, m y dear Crito-, if the Poyson be brew'd, let him bring it; if not, let him brew it himself.
But methinks Socrates, fays Crito, the Sun shines upontheMountains,andisnotyetset;and Iknow several in your Circumstances did not drink the Poysbn till a long time after the Order was given-, that they supp'd very well, (a) and enioy'd any thing they had a mind to : Wherefore I conjure you not to press so hard ; you hav8 yet time enough.
Those who do as you fay, Crito, fays Socrates, ke Judes kave t^ie" own Rea*? ns j tnev think it is just as toarer/emuchgaind:AndIhavelikewisemyReasonsfcr o / H c s i o d , n o t d o i n g s o -, f o r t h e o n l y A d v a n t a g e I c a n h a v e >>'*>ftp, by drinking itlater, isto make my self ridiculous l! ! csZ- t0my selt'inbeinSfofoolislllyfondofLife, asto rfarJhm pretend to husband it in the last Minute, when
one'scome there is no more tocome. Go then, my dear Cri- tothehot-f0^anddoasIbidyoudo,anddonotvexmeno
hrought
? ? of the Immortality of the Scul 177
broughtitalltogetherinaCup; Socratesfeeing him come in^ that'svery well, my Friend, layhej but what must I do ? For you know best, and 'tis yourbusinessto directme.
You have nothing else to do, fays he, but when ever you have drank it, to walk until you rind your Legs stiff, and then to lie down upon your Bed. Thisisallyouhavetodo. Andatthefame time he gave him the Cup, Socrates took it, not onlywithoutany Commotion,orchangeofColour or Countenance, but with Joy ; and looking upon
the Fellow with a steddy and bold Eye, as he was wonttodo,WhatdoyoufayofthisMixture,fays he, isitallowable to make a Drink-Offering of it? Socrates, replied the Man, we never brew more at
once, than what serves for one Dose.
Iunderstandyou, laysSocrates:But atleastitisSocrates
lawfulformetopraytotheGods,thattheywouldf"^^Z0" blesstheVoyage,andrenderithappy. ThisIbegSlZ[ of 'em with all my Soul. Having said that, he
drank it all off, with an admirable Tranquillity and
an unexpressible Calmness.
Hithertowehad,almostallofus,the powerto refrain from Tears; but when we saw him drink it off, we were no longer Masters of our selves. Notwithstanding all my Efforts, Iwas oblig'd to covermy selfwithmy Mantle, thatImight freely regratemy Condition;for'twas notSocrates"smis fortune,butmy own,thatIdeplor'd,inreflecting What a Friend I was losing. Crito, who likewise could not abstain from crying^ had prevented me, and
jrisen. up. And Apollodorus, who searce ceased to cry during the whole Conference, did then howl and cry aloud, insomuch that he mov'd every Body. OnlySocrateshimselfwasnotatallmov. 'd:On ' the contrary,he chid them;What areyou doing, myFriends,layshe;What! suchfineMenasyou are ! O ! Where is Vertue ? Was not it for this
ReasonthatIlentoffthoseWomen,sotfearthey Mm ' should
? ? 178 Phedon: Or,'ADialogue
shouldhavefalleninto thoseWeaknesses;for Ial
wayshearditsaidthataMan oughttodieinTran-
Weshould quillity,and blessingGod ? Be easie then,and shew
diecalmly,moreConstancyandCourage. Thesewordsfill'd UeflingGoi. us wjth Confusion, and forc'd us to suppress our
Tears.
In the mean time he continued to walk, and when
hefelthisLegsstif,helaydown onhisBack,as theMan had order'dhim. Atthe fame time,the fame Man that gave him thePoyson, came up to him, and after looking upon his Legs and Feet, bound up his Feet with all his force, and ask'd him ifhefeltit? Helaid,No. Thenhebounduphis L e g s -, a n d h a v i n g c a r r i e d h i s H a n d h i g h e r , g a v e u s theSignalthathewasquitecold. Socrateslikewise felt himself with his Hand, and told us, that when theCold came up tohisHeart, he should leave us. All his lower Belly was already frozen : And then uncoveringhimselfforhe wascover'd,Crito,fays
.
JfJ53L"3? T a? ckt0mTM1^ */*>>*tbi< trouble him. Vow jor me, and do not forget it. It
Socrates'*lastWords, shallbedone,saysCrito;butfeeif
? . ,, youhaveanythingelsetofaytous. w%'%AE Sot? emad/. <<>m^"**"aUt* again,oyerhisHead. ipaceoftimedeparted. TheMan,who
w a s still b y h i m , h a v i n g u n c o v e r ' d h i m , receiv'd
*Thosewhohavenot div'dintothetruemeaning ofSo crates, charge him with Idolatry and Superstition, upon the score of this Cock that he had vow'd to AEsculapius. But these words should not be taken literally jthey^re aenigma- tical, as many of Tlato's are ; and can never be understood, withoutwe haverecoursetoFiguresandAllegories. The CockhereistheSymbolofLife,andAEsculapiustheEmblem ofPhysick. Socrates\meaningis,thatheresignshisSoulin to the hands of the true Physician, who comes to purifieand healhim. ThisExplicationsuitsadmirablywellwiththe Doctrine taught by Socrates in diis fame Treatise, where he shewsthatKeligiousSacrificeswereonlyFigures. Theodora had a juster Notion of thisPassage, than Latlantius and Ttrtut- Han3 tor he not only did not condemn it,but insinuated that
he, (thesewere hislastWords) * We
it
? ? of the Immortality ofthe Soul.
jj0
teceiv'd his last Looks, which continued fix'd upon him. Crito seeing that, came up and closed his 9>uth and Eyes.
This, Echecrates, was the Exit of our Friend, a Man, whotbeyondalldispute,wasthebest,the wisest, and the justest of all our Acquaintance.
itwas Figurative; in his 7th Discourse ofthe Cure of the' OpinionsoftheVagans, Iampersuaded,fayshe,thatSo crates order'd a Cock to be facrific'd to AEsculapius, to shew the Injustice of his Condemnation ; for he was condemn'd for owning no God. He own'd a God, and fhew'd that his God stood in no need of our Sacrifices or Homage, and re- quir'd nothing else from us but Piety and Sanctity.
fXenophon,thatfaithful HistorianottheActions andme morable Sayings of Socrates, gives him the fame Encomium ; andhavinglaid,thathewasthebestManintheWorld,and
? the greatest Favourite of God, concludes in these Words : IfanyManbeofanotherMind,fraylethimcornsarehisManners andfictionswiththoseofotherMen,andthenlethimjudge. In effect, that is the true way of judging of Men. Nothing but the true Religion did ever form a more wonderful ana divineManthanhewas.
Mm* THE
? ? i8o
', THE
INTRODUCTION TO
LACHES.
T H E Education ofChildren isa thing ofsuch Importance, that the welfare of Families and the good of Estates depend wholly upon it. Tis
n o w o n d e r then, that Socrates, w h o lov'd his C o u n try intirely, was lo watchful in hindting the Athe
nians to take false Measures fh reference to that ; andmade ithisbusinesstocuretheirfalsePreju dices. ThegreatestPrejudice,andperhapsthemost pernicious to the Republick, was that which they entertain'd of Valour. The Wars they were then engag'd in, together with those that threaten'd 'em
afar off, had inspir'd 5em with iiich a Martial Ar
dour, that they thought of nothing bet training up their Children to thev Exercise of Arms ; as-being
persuaded that, that was the only way to render themserviceabletotheirCountry. Besides,Chance i t s e l f h a d f o r t i f i e d t h e T h o u g h t -, f o r n o t l o n g b e fore a sort of Fencing-Master came to Athens, who talk'd wonders of his Art, and pretended to teach Valour, and to put his Scholars in a Condition to resist by themselves a greater number of Enemies. The People crouded to his School, and the young People quitted all, to betake themselves to this Exercise. Socrates,foreseeing thedangerousConse
quences of this their Application, labours to prevent it. And that is the Subject of this Conference. As
? ? TheIntroductiontoLaches. ' i$i
As this Dialogue is capable to recommend it self by its great Title , so the Characters of its Actors ought to whet our Curiosity. Lysmachits, Son to the great Ariftides, and Melesias Son to the great Thucidides, being gall'd with the thoughts of their bad Education , and resolv'd to take more Care of their Children, than their Fathers had taken of them ; went to fee for Wicia* and Laches, who made al ready 'a considerable Figure in the Republick, and carried'emtofeethisFencing-Master. Afterthe Show was over , they ask'd the Advice of these two Friends, whether they approv'd of that Exer cise, and whether they should have their Children tolearnit,ornot? SotheexplicationofValourwas theSubjectofDiscourse. And'twasveryprobable that no Man would speak better upon that Subject, thanthesetwo,who hadgivenProofoftheirVa louronseveralOccasions. But,afterall,theydo not think themselves capable to decide such a dif ficultQuestion, withouthelp:Therefore theycall in Socrates to assist 'emx as being one that made the Interest of Youth his whole study 4 and, besides,
gave Proof of an Heroick Courage at the Siege ofPotidoea,and'theBattleofDelium. Niciasisof Opinion thattheExerciseisveryproperforYouth, and admirably well fitted for rendring them brave a n d c l e v e r -, a n d l o o k s u p o n i t a s a m e a n s l e a d i n g toagoodEnd,viz. theArtofWan Lachesat
tacks this Opinion, and makes out the uselelhels of thatExercise by the insignificancy ofitsTeachers, who never didagoodActionintheirwholelife time i and as for Valour, had never purchased the leastReputationintheArmy. Socratesiscalledin to decide the Controverfie. At firsthe pleads his Incapacity for an Excuse : But afterwards insinuates that there's a necessity 6f knowing Men, before one canbeacquaintedwithValour. He makesoutthe falsity of the Notion that great Men had of this Vertue, which is still kept up to this day : And tho' he does not reveal his Mind plainly to those
Mm3 who
? ? j82
the Introduction to Laches.
w h o c a l l e v e r y t h i n g i n q u e s t i o n ? , y e t o n e m a y e a sily perceive his Opinion to be this, That Valour is
a Vertue that reaches all the Actions of our Life, andincludesallotherVertues. ForavaliantMan, is one that'salways accompanied by Prudence, and judgesequally ofthings,past,present,andtocome; who being acquainted with all the Good and Evil, thatis,hasbeen,oristocome,isinaCondition
to arm himselfagainst the one, and omits nothing
tocompasstheother. SothattobeValiant,one mustbeGood? ,andtoeducateYouth aright,they
must be taught wifely to avoid all Evil, and pursue all the Good they can reach, not only from Men, but, which is more important, from God himself; AndtospareneitherLabour norLifeinthepursuit This isSocrates's Doctrine. And Plato has made the World a good Present, in preserving this excel lent Conference : For we ought not to look upon
it as a trial of Wit ; it is entitled to a wonderful Solidity. PursuanttothisDoctrineofSocrates,we fee plainly that the mostvalourous ofallMen were the Martyrs ; for their Valour was accompanied by a true Prudence, which taught 'em to distinguish what is truly Terrible, from that which is not j to know thepast,present, andfutureHappineisorMi s e r y ? , a n d m o v ' d ' e m t o s c r e e n t h e m s e l v e s f r o m t h e
one, and pursue the other at the expence of their Lives.
Itseems Aristotledidnotperceivethefullforce and solidity of these Principles of Socrates, when he arraign'd him for saying that Valour was a Sci ence. Doubtless,itisa Science,butadivineone, that cannot be learn'dfrom Men.
The solidity of this Dialogue is mix'd with a wonderfulagreeableness:Forwhether wemindthe Beauty of hisCharacters, theLivelinessoftheNar rative, the Spirit of the Dialogue, or the Satyrical Stroaks 'tis full of, we find nothing more perfect in its kind. His Satyr upon those mighty Politicians who employ'd all theirCare upon AffairsofState,
and
? ? The Introduction to Laches. 185
and neglected their Children, suffering them to be
overrun by Vice-,this,I lay,isverynatural. So-
crates means by it to (hew, that these great M e n
do more harm to the Commonwealth, by thisun
happy Negligence, than ever they did good by all the
Servicestheyhavedone. HisSatyragainstFencing-
Masters is likewise very Ingenious, in which the
Character of our Modern Pretenders is admirably
welldrawn. ThosewhohavetakennoticeofM-
ciasm Thucidides,haranguing in the Athenian Coun cilagainstthe SicilianExpedition? ,willhere find
an exact Transcript of his true Character. And
that which above all deserves to be remark'd, is
Plato's Dexterity in crying up Socrates, and setting
his Merit in a great Light. ThisDialogueissupposedtohave beencompos'd
soon after the Defeat of the Athenians at Delium, which happen'dinthefirstYear of the 8pth Olym piad. AndtodeterminetheTimemorenicely,it may befix'dtheverynext Year, during theTruce between the Athenians and Lacedemonians. 'Tis pure lyMoral, andoftheiameCharacterwiththeDia logues of thefirstVolume.
Mm4 LA-
? ? 584
LACHES- OR, QF
-yALOUR'
Lysimachus, Son of AriftdestheJust.
Melesias, Son to Thucidides. Arislides,SontoLysimachus. iBoth of'emvery Thucidides,SontoMelefias. S young,
Nicias, General cf the Athenians. loaches, another Athenian General. Socrates.
Lysim. \[\ TELL,NiciasandLaches,youhaveseen 'VV thisMan,who*parry'dinArmour justnow. WhenMelesiasandIdefir'dyoutocome
andfeethisShow^wedidnottellyoutheReasons t h a t o b l i g ' d u s t o i t : B u t n o w w e ' l l t e l l y o u ? , b e
ing persuaded that we may ipeak to you with an
entireConfidence. MostPeoplelaughattheseEx ercises ? ,. and when one asks their Advice, they're
so far from communicating their Thoughts, that they only try to pump those who come to con sult 'em, and speak against their own Sentiments. As for you, we know you have added the hight of
*1usethefameTermsasarenowinuse,becausetheEx ercisethisMantaughtwasmuchthefamewithwhatisnow taught in our Fencing-Schools. He taught 'em to fence in ArmourwithSwordandBuckler,andtoresistseveralCom
batants at once, by parrying and striking. 'Tis pretty re markable, that this fort ot Fencing-Masters was not known at Athens till after the Defeat at Velixm.
Sincerity
? ? Laches: Or, of fakuf. i%$ Sincerity to a great Capacity ? ,and we hope you'll
tell us ingenuously what your Thoughts are in re ferencetotheSubjectwe areabouttomention. The; upshotofallthisPreambleisthis. Eachofushasa- Son. Theretheyare. ThatYouth,theSonofMe- Iejias, is called Tbucidides, by his Grand-Father's
Name :And this,which ismine,iscalledAristides aftermyFather. Wearcresolvedtotakeasingu larCareoftheirEducation? ,andnottodo asmost*^
Fathersdo,who,whentheirChildrencome tobe^"/'0/'*** young Men, throw theBridleon theirNeck, andf^Edl
iuffer'emtolive accordingtotheirfansie. We de-cationof signtokeep'em stillinawe,andeducate'em to*&>>*>? ti>H-
thebestadvantage. Andforasmuchasyouhavelike-***
wile Children, we fansie you have Thought as much
asany Man upontheMethodofmaking'em Ver- tuous : Or, ifyou have not yet considered of it by
reasonof theirwant ofYears,we presume you will not take it ill that w e put you in mind, that this is an indispensable Duty ; and that we oblige you to deliberate with us what Education all of us should give our Children. The Occasion of our coming to see for you was this.
Tho' the Discourse may seem already too long, yet you'll havetheGoodnessto hearitout. You knowMelesiasandIhavebutoneTable,andthese Childreneatwithus:We shall-concealnothing, from you, and, as I told you at first, shall speak to you with an entire Confidence. Both he and I have entertain'd our Children with a thousand and
a thousand brave Actions done by our Fathers both
in Peace and War, while they headed the Atheni ansand theirAllies:But,toourgreatmisfortune,^^f' w e can tell 'em no such thing of our seises: This,? '/{^* coversuswithShame:We blushforitbeforeourminidiy Children, and are forc'd tocast theblame uponvMuk our Fathers v who, after we. grew up, sufter'd us to A^frJif^
liveinSoftnessandLuxury,andinperniciousLi-"% J
(pentiousnels h while they were employing all their<,/their
CarefortheInterestofothers. Thisweincessantlychildren. >>;. ': -? '-? ? -? -? ? lemon-
? ? i86
Laches : Or, of Valour.
remonstrate to these Children, telling them that if they neglect themselves and disobey us, 'twill prove a discredit to them 5 whereas if they will take pains, they may quickly approve themselves to be worthy oftheName theybear. Theyanswer,they'll obey us^ and upon that account we wanted to know what they mould be taught, and what Educa tionwe should give'em. inordertotheirbestIm provement. SomeBodytoldus,therewasnothing more proper for a young Gentleman, than Fencing; andextoll'dtothevery HeavensthisMan whoper-
? form'd his Exercise before us just now, and press'd
usto come andfeehim. Accordingly we thought
it convenient to come and take you along with us
a s w e p a s s ' d -y n o t o n l y t h a t y o u m i g h t p a r t a k e o f
thePleasure,butlikewisethatyou mouldcommu nicatetousyourKnowledge? ,andthatwemight
all consult together upon the Care w e ought to have ofourChildren. AndthisisallIhadtofayto you. Now, 'tis your turn to aid us with your Counsel, in telling us whether you approve ot con demn the above-mention'd Exercise of Arms ? , and advising us what Occupation, what Instructions we should give our Children $ or, in fine, in giving us to know what Conduct you design to follow for
your own Children.
Nic. hyfimachus, I commend your Thought} I
a m very ready to join with you in this Deliberation; andI'llengagethatLacheswillbeasgladasIam to act a Part in the Conference.
Lac. You may engage forthat,Nicias. In my mind, allthatLyfimacbushassaidagainsthisFather a n d t h e F a t h e r o f M e l e / i a s , i s a d m i r a b l y w e l l l a i d -, not only against them, but against us and all those who embarkintheGovernmentofaState:For,as he said, we wave the Education of our Children and our Domestick Affairs, and mind 'em no more than if we had neither House nor Family. Lyfimacbus you have spoke admirably well \ but I'm surpris'd that you mould call us to consult with you upon
-" that
? ? Laches: Or, of Valour. 187
that Subject, and not Socrateswho isour Fellow Citizen-, and besides, bends all his Thoughts upon things relatingtotheEducation ofChildren,inpur suing the Sciences that are most useful to them, and finding out the most suitable Occupations.
Lyf. How doyoufay,Laches? WouldSocrates****P09*
apply himself to what concerns the Instruction of^ ^ f
YoUth? forlvbi- Lxc. I assure you, he would, Lyjimachus. tofipber,
JNic. AndIallureyouofthefame. For'tisnotthatmindd
four days sincehe gave me a Musick-Master forT-J^ rny Son, one Damon, brought up by Agaibolces -,^JJ;. who, besides all the Excellencies of his Art, is pos- sess'd of all the other Qualities that can be desir'd
in a Tutor for a Child of his Birth.
Lyf. Indeed, both Socrates, and you Nicias, and
Laches,mustpardonthisIgnoranceinmeandall othersofmyAge:Wearenotacquaintedwiththe young Folks, for we scarce stirabroad, by reason of our old Age ; But, Socrates, if you have any goodCounseltogivetome,whoamyourCountry man,praydoit:Ican saythat'tisyourDuty,for you are a Friend of our Family from Father to Son. Your Father Sophroniscus and I were always good Friends and Comerades from our Infancy; and our Friendship lasted till his very death without inter ruption. AtpresentitcomesintomyHead,thatI have heard these Children mention the name of So- crates a thousand times in their Interviews among
themselves,ofwhom they speakmuchGood-,and I never minded to ask of 'em if they spoke of So- crates the Son of Sophroniscus. But now, pray tellme Children, isthistheSocratesIhaveheard you speak of so often ?
Aristides andLhuadidesboth together. Yes,Fa ther, 'tis the lame.
Lyf. lam infinitelyglad ofthat. Take heart,
m y dear Socrates, you keep up the Reputation of
your deceasedFatheradmirablywell,whowasnotHewasan
only very well skill'd in his Art , but likewise a *>>&*>*. very
? ? ? 88
Laches:Or^ ofFakw.
verygoodMan. Youand1mustrenewourAncient Friendship, and henceforward your Interests shall be mine, andmineyours.
Lac. You doverywell,Lysimacbus-? donotlet him go: ForIhaveseen Occasions, in which he maintain'd not only the Reputation of his Father, butthatofhisCountry, (a)AttheDefeatofDe-
? Humheretiredalongwithme :AndIcanallureyou, if all the rest had done their Duty, as he did, our City had been admirably well supported , and had not met with that great Shock.
LyJ. This is a great Encomium, Socrates ; and by
whomisitgiven>ByPersonsthatareworthy to
be credited in all things, especially upon that Point Thatis,fe*forwhichtheycryyouup. 1assureyou, noBody m' canhearyourPraiseswithmorePleasurethanIdo.
Iam infinitelygladthatyouhavepurchasedsucha Reputation, and I list my seisin the Number of your greatest Well-wishers. And therefore pray come, without Ceremony, to see Us ; and live with
us:SinceyouareofourFamilyyououghttodoit. Let this Day be the Date of the renewing of our Ancient Friendship ; and from henceforward be fa miliar with us and these Children, to the end that youandtheymaykeepup ourFriendship, asaPa ternalPledge. Wehopeyou'llmakethatuseofit; a n d f o r o u r P a r t s w e w i l l n o t l u s t e r y o u t o f o r g e t it. But to return to our Subject ^ what do you fayI WhatthinkyouofthisExerciseofArms*Doesit deserve to be learned by young M e n >
Soc. Upon thatPoint,Lyjimacbus, Ishallendea vourtogiveyou thebestCouncilIam Masterof; and shall not rail to put all your Orders in Execution. But since I a m the youngest , and less experienced thananyofyou, 'tisbutjustthatIhearyouspeak first; that so, after I have heard you, I may give in
(<t)InthisBattle,Socratessav'dXinophon'sLife,who fell when his Horse was shot under him ; and Socrates being on foot , took him upon his Back , and carried him several Miles,
my
? ? Laches : Of, of Valom. i8#
my SentimentsifIdifferfromyou, andback them withforcibleReasons. Whydonotyouspeakthen JSsicias? Tis your turn toipeak first. '
Nk. IdonotrefusetotellmyThoughts. Inmy-*Vantgj\ Mind, thatExercise isvery proper for young Peo-nV*"**"* pie, andMeritstheirApplication:Forbesidesthat,Few"*
it diverts them from theAmusements that they com
monlypursue, when they'reidle-,itinures1'emto 'labour,, and of necessity renders them more vigorous andstrong. ThereisnobetterExercise;nonethat requires more strength and dexterity : There's none more suitable to a Person of Quality than this, and riding the great Horse , especially to those of our
Profession:AndinregardoftheWarswe areal- ) ready engaged in, and that are liketo come upon us,; we must reckon those only true and good Exercises thatareperformedwiththeArmsus'dinWar;for they are of admirable use in Battles,whether set Battles in Rank and File, or singleAttacks after the Ranks are broken ; whether we pursue an Enemy
that rallies from time to time, or upon a Retreat are put to it, to get clear of an obstinate Enemy,, thatpursuesuswithSwordinHand. Hewhoisac- * quainted with those Exercises, will never be afraid of one Man norseveraltogether;butwillstillget offclear. Besides,theseExerciseshavethiscom mendable Quality , that they inspire their Votaries with a truePassion foranothermore'serious Exercise : forIsupposeallthosewho give themselves toFen cing, breath nothing but the End they proposed in
g o i n g t o b e t a u g h t , v i z . B a t t l e s a n d F i g h t s ? , a n d w h e n
theycometobeengagedinthese, aresofullofAm bitionandsofondofGlory, that theycarefullyin struct themselves in all that belongs to the Art of War, and make it their Business to rife by degrees
tothehighestPostsintheArmy. For itiscertain and manifest, that nothing ismore desirable and more worthyoftheCareofagoodMan, thanthesedif ferentPostsoftheSword, andallthe Functionsof War, to which this Exercise of Arms leads, as a
Means
? ? jqo
Laches : Or, of Valour.
Means to the End. To all these Advantages, we shalladdonemore, which isnotasmallone. Tis thatthisArtofFencingmakesMen morevaliant, and more venturous in Engagements : And if we reckon up every thing, there's anotherAdvantage that isnottobedespis'd,viz. that itgivesMen a good Meen and agraceful Carriage, which in a publick Appearance renders them agreeable to their own Troops,andformidabletotheirEnemies. Sothat Iam of Opinion, Lysimachus, thatChildrenshould learn those Exercises, and have given the Reasons I goupon. IfLachesbeofanotherMind, Ishallbe glad to hear it.
JNicias'*e- Lack Indeed,Niciat,hemustbeaboldMan,that iogj/refn'd. fayS that any Science whatever is not worthy to be
learn'd : For it is very commendable to k n o w every thing,andifthisExerciseofArmsisaScience, as itsTeachersalledge, and asNicias fays, Iown it oughttobetaught. ButifitisnotaScience,and ifthe Fencing-Masters impose upon us by theirBra vado's ; or ifitisonly an inconsiderable Science, to what purposeshouldweamuseourselveswithit?
Imentionthis,becauseIam perswaded, TheExampleoftheLa- jfjtwereavervconsiderableScience,it
S S r S <<3ffi wouldneverhaveescap'dtheLacedemo-
said. mam, whospendtheirwholelite-time Theywerethemost jnenquiringaftersuchthings,asmay
warlikeveopleosailthe ref]der triemsuperior in War to their
l ^ X s Enemies' Nay, supposing it had esca-
ped the Lacedemonians ; these Fencing-
Masters could not have been ignorant so long, that
of all the Grecians, the Lacedemonians are the most
curious in what relates to Arms ; and that Masters
of any Reputation here, would make their Fortune
there, muchbetterthanelsewhere;justasTragical
PoetsofanyNotedohere. Forevery . asatyrualw yon onethathasayeinforTragedies,comes
$ % & X & toight hither with 'em. and does riionwas ofArms. not travel from City to City to publish his Performances ; whereas those valiant Champions
? ? Laches: Or,ofValour, ipi
Champions who teach Fencing, look upon Lace-? *sreat?
Opposite to that is Acheron, which runs through the defart Places,and diving through the Earth, falls intotheMarsh, which fromitiscall'dtheAcberu-
JianLakes,whitherallSoulsrepairupon theirde parture from thisBody ; and having stay'd thereall the time appointed, some a shorter some a longer time, are sent back to this World to animate Beasts.
Between Acheron and the Ocean, there runs a third River, which retires again not far from its Source, and falls into a vast space full of Fire : There it forms a Lake greater than our Sea, in which the Water mix'd with Mud boils, and setting out from thence all black and muddy, runs along the Earth to the end of the Acherufian Lake without m i x i n g w i t h i t s W a t e r s ? , a n d a f t e r h a v i n g m a d e s e
veral turnings under the Earth, throws it self under neath Tartarus ; and this isthe flaming River call'd Fhlegeton, the Streams whereof are seen to fly up upon the Earth in several Places.
Opposite to this is the fourth River, which falls first into a horrible wild Place, of a bluish Colour, call'd by the name of Stygian, where it forms the
(a) These four Rivers which have their Course in the places appointed for the punishment of the Wicked, might have been imagin'd from the four Rivers of the Terrestrial "Pa radise. As the Apartmeut of the just was water'd by four Rivers, which enlarg'd its Delightfulness ; 'twas proper that theApartmentoftheWickedshouldlikewisebewater'dby four Rivers of a contrary nature, which might add to the Horror of that Place of Darkness and Sorrow.
for-
? ? of the Immqrtality of the Soul. 17j
formidable Lake of Styx, And after it has tin- ctufd itselfwithhorriblequalitiesfrom theWa ters of that Lake, dives into the Earth, where it makes several turns, and directing its Course over- against Pblegeton, at last meets it in the Lake of Acheron^where itdoesnotmingleitsWaterswith those of the other Rivers, but after it has run its round on the Earth, throws it self into the Tarta rusbyaPassageoppositetothatofPhlegeton. This
fourthRiveris'call'dbythePoetsCocytus. Nature
h a v i n g t h u s d i s p o s ' d o f a l l t h e s e T h i n g s -, w h e n t h e T h e ? d Dead arrive at the Place whither their Demon leads mmt "fg~ha
them, they are all tried and judged, both those thatG<w and. liv'd a holy and just Life, and those who wallow'd*'*^- in Injustice and Impiety.
Those who are found to have liv'd neither entire-n,ej>>ig.
ly a criminal nor absolutely an innocent Life, are >><<* >>f senttotheAcheron. TheretheyimbarkinBoats,t,mse>. "*>>
and are transported to the Acherufian Lake, where ZbsoiMeh
they 'dwell, and suffer Punishment proportionablecriminal t o t h e i r C r i m e s ? , t i l l a t l a s t b e i n g p u r g ' d a n d c l e a n - >> < " ? >> >> >> * ?
led from their Sins, and set at Liberty, they receive"*'*
the RecomDence of their good Actions. - ? Those whose Sins are uncurable, and have been ^J"ig~
g u i l t y o f S a c r i l e g e a n d M u r d e r , o r s u c h o t h e r C r i m e s , those w h o are by a just and fatal Destiny, thrown headlong are guilty into Tartarus, where they are kept Prisonersfor"/"""'^
ever. . >
But those who are found guilty of curable (Venial) Sins, tho very great ones,suchasofferingViolencetotheir FatherorMotherinaPassion,orkilling
a Man and repenting for it all their lifetime j must of necessity be likewise
cast into Tartarus : But after a Years abodethere,theTidethrowstheHo-
micides backLinto Cocytus, and the Par- ncidesintoPhkgeton,whichdrawsthem intothe Acherufian Lake*: There they
cry out bitterly,and invoque those ir; ,. /. . :;,'. . ,. . . . ? : . - ? ,-
Sms'
"&*Sentenceuponthoft j? "tJ%ti? bs? T tTMe\ cm 'y **"*"
, ',*? *"*&*h<TM*n*
S t A ' S ' K u? ga-Parentisanine^ miflibleSin.
whom
? ? lyz Phedon : Or, 4 Dialogue
whom theykill'doroffer'dViolenceto,toaidthem; and conjure them to forgive 'em, and to suffer 'em topasstheLake,andgivethemadmittance. If they're prevail'd with, they pass the Lake, and
Socrates are deliver'd from their Misery-, if not, they
TtilZaun arecastagain into Tartarus^ which throws them mLstfZ- backintothese Rivers? ,and thiscontinuestobere-
cedethe peated,tilltheyhavesatisfiedtheinjur'dPer- ? Pardonofsons. ForsuchistheSentencepronounc'dagainst
s""- them.
Butthosewho havedistinguifh'dthemselvesbya holy Life, are releas'd from these earthly Places, these horrible Prisons ? ,and are receiv'd above into
that pure Earth, where they dwell -,and those of 'em who are sufficiently purg'd by Philosophy, live for ever without their Body ; and are receiv'd into
yetmore admirable and deliciousMan- . sfoiMf a gre^Er- fions, which I cannot easily describe,
&TFJl? ? Z TMrher? do theTM? TM Limitsofmy the&d-ycouldhegiori- lmieallowmetolaunchintothatSub-
fied. " ject.
. //r. r ,. What I told you but now, is suffici-
tl^iSTsfS cient>>>7dwSimmias,toshewthat
fireui.
we ought to labour all our lifetime
to purchase Vertue and Wisdom, since we have so great a Hope, and so great a Reward propos'd to us.
N o M a n of Sense can pretend to assure you, that alltheseThings arejust asyou have heard. But allthinkingMen willbepositivethat
t^SrtT^ <hestatf<**? Soul,and& Placeof notpositTMoftheMan. 1? sabodeafterdeath,isabsolutelysuch tr. as I represent it to be, or at least very
near it, provided the Soul be Immor- Wlmtvanger morein- tai. And will certainly find it worth
^? KfsforZ'! ^ ? while. toruntheRisque:Forwhat Gain? Danger is more inviting? One must
needs be charm'd with that blessed Hope. AndforthisReasonIhavedilateda. fitde upon thisSubject.
Every
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 175
Every one that during his life-time renounc'd the
Pleasures of the Body, that look'd upon the Appur
tenances of the Body as foreign Ornaments, and
fiding with the contrary Party, pursued only the
Pleasures of truevKnowledge, and beautified hisrhtTied-
Soul, not with foreign Ornaments, but with Orna-/>><<*"strut ments, suitable toitsnature,suchasTemperance,KnwiedZe-
juliice, Fortitude, Liberty andTruth : Such a one, beingfirmly confident oftheHappinessofhisSoul,^ MtMt ought to wait peaceably for the Hour of his remo- oZament, val, as being always ready for the Voyage, wheno/"t/*W. ever his Fate calls him.
Asforyou,mydearSimmiasandCebes,andall youofthisCompany,youshallallfollowmewhen yoiHourcomes. Mineisnow,andasatragical I'cet would lay, the surly Pilot calls me abroad; wherefore'tistimeIshouldgototheBath:ForI think "tis better to drink the Poyson after I am wash'd,inordertosavetheWomenthetroubleof washing me afterI'm dead.
Socrates having thus spoke, Crito address'd him- ? selfto Socrates, thus: Alas then! inGod'sName beit:ButwhatOrdersdo yougiveme andtherest here present, with reference to your Children or your Affairs, that by putting them in execution, we may at least have the Comfort of obliging you ?
What I now recommend toyou,Crito, replies So
crates, is what I always recommended, viz. ToT? af""~
takeCareofyourselves. Youcannotdoyourselves^wfw a more considerable piece of Service, nor oblige m e * W they and my Family more, (a) than to promise me atf4*<<Care? /
themfelyts.
(a) There'sagreatdealofSenseinwhatSocratesheretells^\'ST
hisFriends:Hedesires'emonlytotakeCareofthemselves,? "r? because if they take Care of themselves, they'll prove good ~ t,at
Men;and,beingsuch,willdoallgoodOfficestohisFami- ra-fer'
ly,tho'theydidnotpromiseit:For goodMenarehonest, and take pleasure in doing Good, and love their Neighbour. Whereas if they neglect themselves,notwithstanding all their faitPromises,theywould notbecapabletodoanythingei therforhimorthemselves. Nonebutgood-MencandoSer vices. How greatisthisTruth!
this
? ? 174
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
thistimesotodo. Whereasifyouneglect:youi selves, and refuse to form your Lives according to the (b) Model I always proposed to you, and follow it as itwere by the footsteeps ; all your Protesta tions and offers of Service will be altogether useless
to me.
W e shall do our utmost. , Socrates, replies Crito, to
obeyyou. Buthowwillyoubeburied? Justasyou please,saysSocrates$ifyoucanbur catchme,andifIdonotgiveyoutheflip. Atthe fame time, looking upon us with a gentle smile, I
cannot,fayshe,compassmy EndinpersuadingCriti that this is Socrates who discourses with you and methodises all the Parts of his Discourse ; and /rill he fanfiesthat Socratesisthethingthat shallsee Death by and by. He confounds me with my Corps-, and in that view asks how 1 must be bu ried ? And all this long Discourse that I made to you but now, in order to make it out, that as soon as I shall have taken down the Poyson, I shall stay no longer with you, but shall part from hence and go to enjoy the Felicity of the Blessed -,in a word, all that I have said for your Consolation and mine, isto no purpose, but itisall lost, with reference to him. 1begofyouthat. youwouldbeBailforme toCrito,but after acontrary manner to thatin whichheoffer'dtoBailmetomyJudges$forhe engag'd that I would not be gone : Pray engage sot me, that I shall no sooner be dead, but 1 shall k gone, to the end that poor Crito may bear ray death more steddily , and when he sees m y Body burnt or interr'd, may not despair, as if I suffer'd great Misery $ and say at m y Funeral, that Socrata is laid out, Socrates iscarried out, Socrates is in terr'd. Foryoumustknow,mydearCrito,fayshe turning to him, that speaking amiss of Death is
Q>) This Model is God ;for he stilltold 'em that they should render themselves conformable to God, as m u c h as hu man Weakness would btar.
not
? ? of the Immortality of the Soul. 175
not only a Fault in the way of speaking, but like
wise wounds the Soul. You shou'd have more***D's-
Courage andHope, and saythatmy Body istobeJf^JjJJ- interr'd. Thatyoumayinterrasyoupleafe,andj*STr. inthe. manner that'smostconformabletoourLawstheSaid. and Customs. ,
Having spoke thus, he role and went into the next Room to bathe. Crito follow'd him, and he desiredweshouldattendhim. Accordinglyweall attended him, and entertain'd our selves one while with a Repetition and farther Examination of what hehadsaid,another whileinspeakingofthemise rableStatethatwas beforeus. Forwe all look'd
upon our selves as Persons depriv'd of our good Fa ther, that were about to pass the rest of our Life in an Orphan-state.
After he came out of the Bath, they brought his Children to him ? , for he had three, two little ones,
and one thatwas prettybig:And theWomen of hisFamilycameallintohim. Hespoketothem some time" in the presence of Crito, gave 'em their Orders, and order'd 'em to retire, carry his Chil dren along with 'em, and then came back to us, 'Twas then towards Sun setting, for he had been 9. lone while inthelittleRoom.
When he came in he sat down upon hisBed, without saying much : For much about the same time the Officerof the Eleven Magistrates came in, and drawing near to him, Socrates, lays he, I have no occasion to make the same Complaint of you, that 1 have every day of those in the same Condi tion : For as soon as I come to acquaint 'em, by Orders from the Eleven Magistrates, that they must drink the Poyson, they are incens'd against me and curseme:Butasforyou,eversinceyoucamein to this Place, I have found you to be the most eventemper'd,thecalmestandthebestMan thatever enter'dthisPrison;andIam confidentthatatpresent you are not angry with me -,doubtless you ar<< an gry with none but those who arc the cause ot
your -rr*.
? ? torn.
longer.
Whereupon Crito gave the Sign to the Slave that
waitedjustby. TheSlavewentout,andafterhe had spent some time in brewing the Poyson, re- turn'd accompanied by him that was to give it* and
(a) This affords us an admirable Prospect of the infinite differencebetweenSocratesandthosebrutishMen,who died without any other Sentiments of their Misery.
ij6
Phedon : Or, A Dialogue
your misfortune. You know 'em without naming. On thisOccasion, Socrates,youknow what Icome to tell you -,farewell, endeavour to bear this Ne cessitywithaconstantMind. Haviigspokethus, he began to cry, and turning his Back upon us, re-
tir'd a little. Farewell my Friend, fays Socrates, looking upon him, 111 follow the Counsel thou gi- vest me. Mind, says he, what Honesty is in that Fellow:DuringmyImprisonmenthecameoftento lee me, and Hiscours'd with me : He's more worth than all the rest: How heartily he cries for me ! Let us obey him with a handsom meen, m y dear Crito-, if the Poyson be brew'd, let him bring it; if not, let him brew it himself.
But methinks Socrates, fays Crito, the Sun shines upontheMountains,andisnotyetset;and Iknow several in your Circumstances did not drink the Poysbn till a long time after the Order was given-, that they supp'd very well, (a) and enioy'd any thing they had a mind to : Wherefore I conjure you not to press so hard ; you hav8 yet time enough.
Those who do as you fay, Crito, fays Socrates, ke Judes kave t^ie" own Rea*? ns j tnev think it is just as toarer/emuchgaind:AndIhavelikewisemyReasonsfcr o / H c s i o d , n o t d o i n g s o -, f o r t h e o n l y A d v a n t a g e I c a n h a v e >>'*>ftp, by drinking itlater, isto make my self ridiculous l! ! csZ- t0my selt'inbeinSfofoolislllyfondofLife, asto rfarJhm pretend to husband it in the last Minute, when
one'scome there is no more tocome. Go then, my dear Cri- tothehot-f0^anddoasIbidyoudo,anddonotvexmeno
hrought
? ? of the Immortality of the Scul 177
broughtitalltogetherinaCup; Socratesfeeing him come in^ that'svery well, my Friend, layhej but what must I do ? For you know best, and 'tis yourbusinessto directme.
You have nothing else to do, fays he, but when ever you have drank it, to walk until you rind your Legs stiff, and then to lie down upon your Bed. Thisisallyouhavetodo. Andatthefame time he gave him the Cup, Socrates took it, not onlywithoutany Commotion,orchangeofColour or Countenance, but with Joy ; and looking upon
the Fellow with a steddy and bold Eye, as he was wonttodo,WhatdoyoufayofthisMixture,fays he, isitallowable to make a Drink-Offering of it? Socrates, replied the Man, we never brew more at
once, than what serves for one Dose.
Iunderstandyou, laysSocrates:But atleastitisSocrates
lawfulformetopraytotheGods,thattheywouldf"^^Z0" blesstheVoyage,andrenderithappy. ThisIbegSlZ[ of 'em with all my Soul. Having said that, he
drank it all off, with an admirable Tranquillity and
an unexpressible Calmness.
Hithertowehad,almostallofus,the powerto refrain from Tears; but when we saw him drink it off, we were no longer Masters of our selves. Notwithstanding all my Efforts, Iwas oblig'd to covermy selfwithmy Mantle, thatImight freely regratemy Condition;for'twas notSocrates"smis fortune,butmy own,thatIdeplor'd,inreflecting What a Friend I was losing. Crito, who likewise could not abstain from crying^ had prevented me, and
jrisen. up. And Apollodorus, who searce ceased to cry during the whole Conference, did then howl and cry aloud, insomuch that he mov'd every Body. OnlySocrateshimselfwasnotatallmov. 'd:On ' the contrary,he chid them;What areyou doing, myFriends,layshe;What! suchfineMenasyou are ! O ! Where is Vertue ? Was not it for this
ReasonthatIlentoffthoseWomen,sotfearthey Mm ' should
? ? 178 Phedon: Or,'ADialogue
shouldhavefalleninto thoseWeaknesses;for Ial
wayshearditsaidthataMan oughttodieinTran-
Weshould quillity,and blessingGod ? Be easie then,and shew
diecalmly,moreConstancyandCourage. Thesewordsfill'd UeflingGoi. us wjth Confusion, and forc'd us to suppress our
Tears.
In the mean time he continued to walk, and when
hefelthisLegsstif,helaydown onhisBack,as theMan had order'dhim. Atthe fame time,the fame Man that gave him thePoyson, came up to him, and after looking upon his Legs and Feet, bound up his Feet with all his force, and ask'd him ifhefeltit? Helaid,No. Thenhebounduphis L e g s -, a n d h a v i n g c a r r i e d h i s H a n d h i g h e r , g a v e u s theSignalthathewasquitecold. Socrateslikewise felt himself with his Hand, and told us, that when theCold came up tohisHeart, he should leave us. All his lower Belly was already frozen : And then uncoveringhimselfforhe wascover'd,Crito,fays
.
JfJ53L"3? T a? ckt0mTM1^ */*>>*tbi< trouble him. Vow jor me, and do not forget it. It
Socrates'*lastWords, shallbedone,saysCrito;butfeeif
? . ,, youhaveanythingelsetofaytous. w%'%AE Sot? emad/. <<>m^"**"aUt* again,oyerhisHead. ipaceoftimedeparted. TheMan,who
w a s still b y h i m , h a v i n g u n c o v e r ' d h i m , receiv'd
*Thosewhohavenot div'dintothetruemeaning ofSo crates, charge him with Idolatry and Superstition, upon the score of this Cock that he had vow'd to AEsculapius. But these words should not be taken literally jthey^re aenigma- tical, as many of Tlato's are ; and can never be understood, withoutwe haverecoursetoFiguresandAllegories. The CockhereistheSymbolofLife,andAEsculapiustheEmblem ofPhysick. Socrates\meaningis,thatheresignshisSoulin to the hands of the true Physician, who comes to purifieand healhim. ThisExplicationsuitsadmirablywellwiththe Doctrine taught by Socrates in diis fame Treatise, where he shewsthatKeligiousSacrificeswereonlyFigures. Theodora had a juster Notion of thisPassage, than Latlantius and Ttrtut- Han3 tor he not only did not condemn it,but insinuated that
he, (thesewere hislastWords) * We
it
? ? of the Immortality ofthe Soul.
jj0
teceiv'd his last Looks, which continued fix'd upon him. Crito seeing that, came up and closed his 9>uth and Eyes.
This, Echecrates, was the Exit of our Friend, a Man, whotbeyondalldispute,wasthebest,the wisest, and the justest of all our Acquaintance.
itwas Figurative; in his 7th Discourse ofthe Cure of the' OpinionsoftheVagans, Iampersuaded,fayshe,thatSo crates order'd a Cock to be facrific'd to AEsculapius, to shew the Injustice of his Condemnation ; for he was condemn'd for owning no God. He own'd a God, and fhew'd that his God stood in no need of our Sacrifices or Homage, and re- quir'd nothing else from us but Piety and Sanctity.
fXenophon,thatfaithful HistorianottheActions andme morable Sayings of Socrates, gives him the fame Encomium ; andhavinglaid,thathewasthebestManintheWorld,and
? the greatest Favourite of God, concludes in these Words : IfanyManbeofanotherMind,fraylethimcornsarehisManners andfictionswiththoseofotherMen,andthenlethimjudge. In effect, that is the true way of judging of Men. Nothing but the true Religion did ever form a more wonderful ana divineManthanhewas.
Mm* THE
? ? i8o
', THE
INTRODUCTION TO
LACHES.
T H E Education ofChildren isa thing ofsuch Importance, that the welfare of Families and the good of Estates depend wholly upon it. Tis
n o w o n d e r then, that Socrates, w h o lov'd his C o u n try intirely, was lo watchful in hindting the Athe
nians to take false Measures fh reference to that ; andmade ithisbusinesstocuretheirfalsePreju dices. ThegreatestPrejudice,andperhapsthemost pernicious to the Republick, was that which they entertain'd of Valour. The Wars they were then engag'd in, together with those that threaten'd 'em
afar off, had inspir'd 5em with iiich a Martial Ar
dour, that they thought of nothing bet training up their Children to thev Exercise of Arms ; as-being
persuaded that, that was the only way to render themserviceabletotheirCountry. Besides,Chance i t s e l f h a d f o r t i f i e d t h e T h o u g h t -, f o r n o t l o n g b e fore a sort of Fencing-Master came to Athens, who talk'd wonders of his Art, and pretended to teach Valour, and to put his Scholars in a Condition to resist by themselves a greater number of Enemies. The People crouded to his School, and the young People quitted all, to betake themselves to this Exercise. Socrates,foreseeing thedangerousConse
quences of this their Application, labours to prevent it. And that is the Subject of this Conference. As
? ? TheIntroductiontoLaches. ' i$i
As this Dialogue is capable to recommend it self by its great Title , so the Characters of its Actors ought to whet our Curiosity. Lysmachits, Son to the great Ariftides, and Melesias Son to the great Thucidides, being gall'd with the thoughts of their bad Education , and resolv'd to take more Care of their Children, than their Fathers had taken of them ; went to fee for Wicia* and Laches, who made al ready 'a considerable Figure in the Republick, and carried'emtofeethisFencing-Master. Afterthe Show was over , they ask'd the Advice of these two Friends, whether they approv'd of that Exer cise, and whether they should have their Children tolearnit,ornot? SotheexplicationofValourwas theSubjectofDiscourse. And'twasveryprobable that no Man would speak better upon that Subject, thanthesetwo,who hadgivenProofoftheirVa louronseveralOccasions. But,afterall,theydo not think themselves capable to decide such a dif ficultQuestion, withouthelp:Therefore theycall in Socrates to assist 'emx as being one that made the Interest of Youth his whole study 4 and, besides,
gave Proof of an Heroick Courage at the Siege ofPotidoea,and'theBattleofDelium. Niciasisof Opinion thattheExerciseisveryproperforYouth, and admirably well fitted for rendring them brave a n d c l e v e r -, a n d l o o k s u p o n i t a s a m e a n s l e a d i n g toagoodEnd,viz. theArtofWan Lachesat
tacks this Opinion, and makes out the uselelhels of thatExercise by the insignificancy ofitsTeachers, who never didagoodActionintheirwholelife time i and as for Valour, had never purchased the leastReputationintheArmy. Socratesiscalledin to decide the Controverfie. At firsthe pleads his Incapacity for an Excuse : But afterwards insinuates that there's a necessity 6f knowing Men, before one canbeacquaintedwithValour. He makesoutthe falsity of the Notion that great Men had of this Vertue, which is still kept up to this day : And tho' he does not reveal his Mind plainly to those
Mm3 who
? ? j82
the Introduction to Laches.
w h o c a l l e v e r y t h i n g i n q u e s t i o n ? , y e t o n e m a y e a sily perceive his Opinion to be this, That Valour is
a Vertue that reaches all the Actions of our Life, andincludesallotherVertues. ForavaliantMan, is one that'salways accompanied by Prudence, and judgesequally ofthings,past,present,andtocome; who being acquainted with all the Good and Evil, thatis,hasbeen,oristocome,isinaCondition
to arm himselfagainst the one, and omits nothing
tocompasstheother. SothattobeValiant,one mustbeGood? ,andtoeducateYouth aright,they
must be taught wifely to avoid all Evil, and pursue all the Good they can reach, not only from Men, but, which is more important, from God himself; AndtospareneitherLabour norLifeinthepursuit This isSocrates's Doctrine. And Plato has made the World a good Present, in preserving this excel lent Conference : For we ought not to look upon
it as a trial of Wit ; it is entitled to a wonderful Solidity. PursuanttothisDoctrineofSocrates,we fee plainly that the mostvalourous ofallMen were the Martyrs ; for their Valour was accompanied by a true Prudence, which taught 'em to distinguish what is truly Terrible, from that which is not j to know thepast,present, andfutureHappineisorMi s e r y ? , a n d m o v ' d ' e m t o s c r e e n t h e m s e l v e s f r o m t h e
one, and pursue the other at the expence of their Lives.
Itseems Aristotledidnotperceivethefullforce and solidity of these Principles of Socrates, when he arraign'd him for saying that Valour was a Sci ence. Doubtless,itisa Science,butadivineone, that cannot be learn'dfrom Men.
The solidity of this Dialogue is mix'd with a wonderfulagreeableness:Forwhether wemindthe Beauty of hisCharacters, theLivelinessoftheNar rative, the Spirit of the Dialogue, or the Satyrical Stroaks 'tis full of, we find nothing more perfect in its kind. His Satyr upon those mighty Politicians who employ'd all theirCare upon AffairsofState,
and
? ? The Introduction to Laches. 185
and neglected their Children, suffering them to be
overrun by Vice-,this,I lay,isverynatural. So-
crates means by it to (hew, that these great M e n
do more harm to the Commonwealth, by thisun
happy Negligence, than ever they did good by all the
Servicestheyhavedone. HisSatyragainstFencing-
Masters is likewise very Ingenious, in which the
Character of our Modern Pretenders is admirably
welldrawn. ThosewhohavetakennoticeofM-
ciasm Thucidides,haranguing in the Athenian Coun cilagainstthe SicilianExpedition? ,willhere find
an exact Transcript of his true Character. And
that which above all deserves to be remark'd, is
Plato's Dexterity in crying up Socrates, and setting
his Merit in a great Light. ThisDialogueissupposedtohave beencompos'd
soon after the Defeat of the Athenians at Delium, which happen'dinthefirstYear of the 8pth Olym piad. AndtodeterminetheTimemorenicely,it may befix'dtheverynext Year, during theTruce between the Athenians and Lacedemonians. 'Tis pure lyMoral, andoftheiameCharacterwiththeDia logues of thefirstVolume.
Mm4 LA-
? ? 584
LACHES- OR, QF
-yALOUR'
Lysimachus, Son of AriftdestheJust.
Melesias, Son to Thucidides. Arislides,SontoLysimachus. iBoth of'emvery Thucidides,SontoMelefias. S young,
Nicias, General cf the Athenians. loaches, another Athenian General. Socrates.
Lysim. \[\ TELL,NiciasandLaches,youhaveseen 'VV thisMan,who*parry'dinArmour justnow. WhenMelesiasandIdefir'dyoutocome
andfeethisShow^wedidnottellyoutheReasons t h a t o b l i g ' d u s t o i t : B u t n o w w e ' l l t e l l y o u ? , b e
ing persuaded that we may ipeak to you with an
entireConfidence. MostPeoplelaughattheseEx ercises ? ,. and when one asks their Advice, they're
so far from communicating their Thoughts, that they only try to pump those who come to con sult 'em, and speak against their own Sentiments. As for you, we know you have added the hight of
*1usethefameTermsasarenowinuse,becausetheEx ercisethisMantaughtwasmuchthefamewithwhatisnow taught in our Fencing-Schools. He taught 'em to fence in ArmourwithSwordandBuckler,andtoresistseveralCom
batants at once, by parrying and striking. 'Tis pretty re markable, that this fort ot Fencing-Masters was not known at Athens till after the Defeat at Velixm.
Sincerity
? ? Laches: Or, of fakuf. i%$ Sincerity to a great Capacity ? ,and we hope you'll
tell us ingenuously what your Thoughts are in re ferencetotheSubjectwe areabouttomention. The; upshotofallthisPreambleisthis. Eachofushasa- Son. Theretheyare. ThatYouth,theSonofMe- Iejias, is called Tbucidides, by his Grand-Father's
Name :And this,which ismine,iscalledAristides aftermyFather. Wearcresolvedtotakeasingu larCareoftheirEducation? ,andnottodo asmost*^
Fathersdo,who,whentheirChildrencome tobe^"/'0/'*** young Men, throw theBridleon theirNeck, andf^Edl
iuffer'emtolive accordingtotheirfansie. We de-cationof signtokeep'em stillinawe,andeducate'em to*&>>*>? ti>H-
thebestadvantage. Andforasmuchasyouhavelike-***
wile Children, we fansie you have Thought as much
asany Man upontheMethodofmaking'em Ver- tuous : Or, ifyou have not yet considered of it by
reasonof theirwant ofYears,we presume you will not take it ill that w e put you in mind, that this is an indispensable Duty ; and that we oblige you to deliberate with us what Education all of us should give our Children. The Occasion of our coming to see for you was this.
Tho' the Discourse may seem already too long, yet you'll havetheGoodnessto hearitout. You knowMelesiasandIhavebutoneTable,andthese Childreneatwithus:We shall-concealnothing, from you, and, as I told you at first, shall speak to you with an entire Confidence. Both he and I have entertain'd our Children with a thousand and
a thousand brave Actions done by our Fathers both
in Peace and War, while they headed the Atheni ansand theirAllies:But,toourgreatmisfortune,^^f' w e can tell 'em no such thing of our seises: This,? '/{^* coversuswithShame:We blushforitbeforeourminidiy Children, and are forc'd tocast theblame uponvMuk our Fathers v who, after we. grew up, sufter'd us to A^frJif^
liveinSoftnessandLuxury,andinperniciousLi-"% J
(pentiousnels h while they were employing all their<,/their
CarefortheInterestofothers. Thisweincessantlychildren. >>;. ': -? '-? ? -? -? ? lemon-
? ? i86
Laches : Or, of Valour.
remonstrate to these Children, telling them that if they neglect themselves and disobey us, 'twill prove a discredit to them 5 whereas if they will take pains, they may quickly approve themselves to be worthy oftheName theybear. Theyanswer,they'll obey us^ and upon that account we wanted to know what they mould be taught, and what Educa tionwe should give'em. inordertotheirbestIm provement. SomeBodytoldus,therewasnothing more proper for a young Gentleman, than Fencing; andextoll'dtothevery HeavensthisMan whoper-
? form'd his Exercise before us just now, and press'd
usto come andfeehim. Accordingly we thought
it convenient to come and take you along with us
a s w e p a s s ' d -y n o t o n l y t h a t y o u m i g h t p a r t a k e o f
thePleasure,butlikewisethatyou mouldcommu nicatetousyourKnowledge? ,andthatwemight
all consult together upon the Care w e ought to have ofourChildren. AndthisisallIhadtofayto you. Now, 'tis your turn to aid us with your Counsel, in telling us whether you approve ot con demn the above-mention'd Exercise of Arms ? , and advising us what Occupation, what Instructions we should give our Children $ or, in fine, in giving us to know what Conduct you design to follow for
your own Children.
Nic. hyfimachus, I commend your Thought} I
a m very ready to join with you in this Deliberation; andI'llengagethatLacheswillbeasgladasIam to act a Part in the Conference.
Lac. You may engage forthat,Nicias. In my mind, allthatLyfimacbushassaidagainsthisFather a n d t h e F a t h e r o f M e l e / i a s , i s a d m i r a b l y w e l l l a i d -, not only against them, but against us and all those who embarkintheGovernmentofaState:For,as he said, we wave the Education of our Children and our Domestick Affairs, and mind 'em no more than if we had neither House nor Family. Lyfimacbus you have spoke admirably well \ but I'm surpris'd that you mould call us to consult with you upon
-" that
? ? Laches: Or, of Valour. 187
that Subject, and not Socrateswho isour Fellow Citizen-, and besides, bends all his Thoughts upon things relatingtotheEducation ofChildren,inpur suing the Sciences that are most useful to them, and finding out the most suitable Occupations.
Lyf. How doyoufay,Laches? WouldSocrates****P09*
apply himself to what concerns the Instruction of^ ^ f
YoUth? forlvbi- Lxc. I assure you, he would, Lyjimachus. tofipber,
JNic. AndIallureyouofthefame. For'tisnotthatmindd
four days sincehe gave me a Musick-Master forT-J^ rny Son, one Damon, brought up by Agaibolces -,^JJ;. who, besides all the Excellencies of his Art, is pos- sess'd of all the other Qualities that can be desir'd
in a Tutor for a Child of his Birth.
Lyf. Indeed, both Socrates, and you Nicias, and
Laches,mustpardonthisIgnoranceinmeandall othersofmyAge:Wearenotacquaintedwiththe young Folks, for we scarce stirabroad, by reason of our old Age ; But, Socrates, if you have any goodCounseltogivetome,whoamyourCountry man,praydoit:Ican saythat'tisyourDuty,for you are a Friend of our Family from Father to Son. Your Father Sophroniscus and I were always good Friends and Comerades from our Infancy; and our Friendship lasted till his very death without inter ruption. AtpresentitcomesintomyHead,thatI have heard these Children mention the name of So- crates a thousand times in their Interviews among
themselves,ofwhom they speakmuchGood-,and I never minded to ask of 'em if they spoke of So- crates the Son of Sophroniscus. But now, pray tellme Children, isthistheSocratesIhaveheard you speak of so often ?
Aristides andLhuadidesboth together. Yes,Fa ther, 'tis the lame.
Lyf. lam infinitelyglad ofthat. Take heart,
m y dear Socrates, you keep up the Reputation of
your deceasedFatheradmirablywell,whowasnotHewasan
only very well skill'd in his Art , but likewise a *>>&*>*. very
? ? ? 88
Laches:Or^ ofFakw.
verygoodMan. Youand1mustrenewourAncient Friendship, and henceforward your Interests shall be mine, andmineyours.
Lac. You doverywell,Lysimacbus-? donotlet him go: ForIhaveseen Occasions, in which he maintain'd not only the Reputation of his Father, butthatofhisCountry, (a)AttheDefeatofDe-
? Humheretiredalongwithme :AndIcanallureyou, if all the rest had done their Duty, as he did, our City had been admirably well supported , and had not met with that great Shock.
LyJ. This is a great Encomium, Socrates ; and by
whomisitgiven>ByPersonsthatareworthy to
be credited in all things, especially upon that Point Thatis,fe*forwhichtheycryyouup. 1assureyou, noBody m' canhearyourPraiseswithmorePleasurethanIdo.
Iam infinitelygladthatyouhavepurchasedsucha Reputation, and I list my seisin the Number of your greatest Well-wishers. And therefore pray come, without Ceremony, to see Us ; and live with
us:SinceyouareofourFamilyyououghttodoit. Let this Day be the Date of the renewing of our Ancient Friendship ; and from henceforward be fa miliar with us and these Children, to the end that youandtheymaykeepup ourFriendship, asaPa ternalPledge. Wehopeyou'llmakethatuseofit; a n d f o r o u r P a r t s w e w i l l n o t l u s t e r y o u t o f o r g e t it. But to return to our Subject ^ what do you fayI WhatthinkyouofthisExerciseofArms*Doesit deserve to be learned by young M e n >
Soc. Upon thatPoint,Lyjimacbus, Ishallendea vourtogiveyou thebestCouncilIam Masterof; and shall not rail to put all your Orders in Execution. But since I a m the youngest , and less experienced thananyofyou, 'tisbutjustthatIhearyouspeak first; that so, after I have heard you, I may give in
(<t)InthisBattle,Socratessav'dXinophon'sLife,who fell when his Horse was shot under him ; and Socrates being on foot , took him upon his Back , and carried him several Miles,
my
? ? Laches : Of, of Valom. i8#
my SentimentsifIdifferfromyou, andback them withforcibleReasons. Whydonotyouspeakthen JSsicias? Tis your turn toipeak first. '
Nk. IdonotrefusetotellmyThoughts. Inmy-*Vantgj\ Mind, thatExercise isvery proper for young Peo-nV*"**"* pie, andMeritstheirApplication:Forbesidesthat,Few"*
it diverts them from theAmusements that they com
monlypursue, when they'reidle-,itinures1'emto 'labour,, and of necessity renders them more vigorous andstrong. ThereisnobetterExercise;nonethat requires more strength and dexterity : There's none more suitable to a Person of Quality than this, and riding the great Horse , especially to those of our
Profession:AndinregardoftheWarswe areal- ) ready engaged in, and that are liketo come upon us,; we must reckon those only true and good Exercises thatareperformedwiththeArmsus'dinWar;for they are of admirable use in Battles,whether set Battles in Rank and File, or singleAttacks after the Ranks are broken ; whether we pursue an Enemy
that rallies from time to time, or upon a Retreat are put to it, to get clear of an obstinate Enemy,, thatpursuesuswithSwordinHand. Hewhoisac- * quainted with those Exercises, will never be afraid of one Man norseveraltogether;butwillstillget offclear. Besides,theseExerciseshavethiscom mendable Quality , that they inspire their Votaries with a truePassion foranothermore'serious Exercise : forIsupposeallthosewho give themselves toFen cing, breath nothing but the End they proposed in
g o i n g t o b e t a u g h t , v i z . B a t t l e s a n d F i g h t s ? , a n d w h e n
theycometobeengagedinthese, aresofullofAm bitionandsofondofGlory, that theycarefullyin struct themselves in all that belongs to the Art of War, and make it their Business to rife by degrees
tothehighestPostsintheArmy. For itiscertain and manifest, that nothing ismore desirable and more worthyoftheCareofagoodMan, thanthesedif ferentPostsoftheSword, andallthe Functionsof War, to which this Exercise of Arms leads, as a
Means
? ? jqo
Laches : Or, of Valour.
Means to the End. To all these Advantages, we shalladdonemore, which isnotasmallone. Tis thatthisArtofFencingmakesMen morevaliant, and more venturous in Engagements : And if we reckon up every thing, there's anotherAdvantage that isnottobedespis'd,viz. that itgivesMen a good Meen and agraceful Carriage, which in a publick Appearance renders them agreeable to their own Troops,andformidabletotheirEnemies. Sothat Iam of Opinion, Lysimachus, thatChildrenshould learn those Exercises, and have given the Reasons I goupon. IfLachesbeofanotherMind, Ishallbe glad to hear it.
JNicias'*e- Lack Indeed,Niciat,hemustbeaboldMan,that iogj/refn'd. fayS that any Science whatever is not worthy to be
learn'd : For it is very commendable to k n o w every thing,andifthisExerciseofArmsisaScience, as itsTeachersalledge, and asNicias fays, Iown it oughttobetaught. ButifitisnotaScience,and ifthe Fencing-Masters impose upon us by theirBra vado's ; or ifitisonly an inconsiderable Science, to what purposeshouldweamuseourselveswithit?
Imentionthis,becauseIam perswaded, TheExampleoftheLa- jfjtwereavervconsiderableScience,it
S S r S <<3ffi wouldneverhaveescap'dtheLacedemo-
said. mam, whospendtheirwholelite-time Theywerethemost jnenquiringaftersuchthings,asmay
warlikeveopleosailthe ref]der triemsuperior in War to their
l ^ X s Enemies' Nay, supposing it had esca-
ped the Lacedemonians ; these Fencing-
Masters could not have been ignorant so long, that
of all the Grecians, the Lacedemonians are the most
curious in what relates to Arms ; and that Masters
of any Reputation here, would make their Fortune
there, muchbetterthanelsewhere;justasTragical
PoetsofanyNotedohere. Forevery . asatyrualw yon onethathasayeinforTragedies,comes
$ % & X & toight hither with 'em. and does riionwas ofArms. not travel from City to City to publish his Performances ; whereas those valiant Champions
? ? Laches: Or,ofValour, ipi
Champions who teach Fencing, look upon Lace-? *sreat?
