CHAPTER V. OF THE MISCHIEFS OF INTEMPERANCE, AND THE ADVANTAGES OF SOBRIETY.
I will now set down the arguments that Socrates used to bring his friends to the practice of good actions, for being of opinion that temperance is a great advantage to such as desire to do anything that is excellent, he first showed them, by his way of living, that no man was more advanced than himself in the exercise of that virtue; and in his conferences he exhorted his hearers above all things to the practice of it, and his thoughts being continually employed in the means of arriving to be virtuous, he made it likewise the subject of all his discourses.
I remember that talking once with Euthydemus concerning temperance he delivered himself to this effect:—“In your opinion, Euthydemus, is liberty a very valuable thing?” “To be valued above all things,” answered Euthydemus. “Do you believe that a man who is a slave to sensual pleasures, and finds himself incapable of doing good, enjoys his liberty?” “Not in the least.” “You allow, then, that to do good is to be free, and that to be prevented from doing it, by any obstacle whatever, is not to be free?” “I think so,” said Euthydemus. “You believe, then,” said Socrates, “that debauched persons are not free?” “I do.” “Do you believe likewise,” continued Socrates, “that debauchery does not only hinder from doing good, but compels to do ill?” “I think it does.” “What would you say, then, of a master who should hinder you from applying yourself to what is honest, and force you to undertake some infamous occupation?” “I would say he was a very wicked master,” answered Euthydemus. “And which is the worst of all slaveries?” added Socrates. “To serve ill masters,” said Euthydemus. “Therefore,” inferred Socrates, “the debauched are in a miserable slavery.” “No doubt of it.” “Is it not debauchery, likewise,” said Socrates, “that deprives men of their wisdom, the noblest gift of the gods, and drives them into ignorance and stupidity, and all manner of disorders? It robs them of leisure to apply themselves to things profitable, while it drowns them in sensual pleasures; and it seizes their minds to that degree that, though they often know which is the best way, they are miserably engaged in the worst.” “They are so.” “Nor can we expect to find temperance nor modesty in a debauched person, since the actions of temperance and debauchery are entirely opposite.” “There is no doubt of it,” said Euthydemus. “I do not think neither,” added Socrates, “that it is possible to imagine anything that makes men neglect their duty more than debauchery.” “You say true.” “Is there anything more pernicious to man,” said Socrates, “than that which robs him of his judgment, makes him embrace and cherish things that are hurtful, avoid and neglect what is profitable, and lead a life contrary to that of good men?” “There is nothing,” said Euthydemus. Socrates went on:—“And may we not ascribe the contrary effects to temperance?” “Without doubt.” “And is it not likely to be true that the cause of the contrary effects is good?” “Most certainly.” “It follows, then, my dear Euthydemus,” said Socrates, “that temperance is a very good thing?” “Undoubtedly it is.” “But have you reflected,” pursued Socrates, “that debauchery, which pretends to lead men to pleasures, cannot conduct them thither, but deceives them, leaving them in disappointment, satiety, and disgust? and have you considered that temperance and sobriety alone give us the true taste of pleasures? For it is the nature of debauchery not to endure hunger nor thirst, nor the fatigue of being long awake, nor the vehement desires of love, which, nevertheless, are the true dispositions to eat and drink with delight, and to find an exquisite pleasure in the soft approaches of sleep, and in the enjoyments of love. This is the reason that the intemperate find less satisfaction in these actions, which are necessary and frequently done. But temperance, which accustoms us to wait for the necessity, is the only thing that makes us feel an extreme pleasure in these occasions.” “You are in the right,” said Euthydemus. “It is this virtue, too,” said Socrates, “that puts men in a condition of bringing to a state of perfection both the mind and the body, of rendering themselves capable of well governing their families, of being serviceable to their friends and their country, and of overcoming their enemies, which is not only very agreeable on account of the advantages, but very desirable likewise for the satisfaction that attends it. But the debauched know none of this, for what share can they pretend to in virtuous actions, they whose minds are wholly taken up in the pursuit of present pleasures?” “According to what you say,” replied Euthydemus, “a man given to voluptuousness is unfit for any virtue.” “And what difference is there,” said Socrates, “between an irrational animal and a voluptuous man, who has no regard to what is best, but blindly pursues what is most delightful? It belongs to the temperate only to inquire what things are best and what not, and then, after having found out the difference by experience and reasoning, to embrace the good and avoid the bad, which renders them at once most happy, most virtuous, and most prudent.”
This was the sum of this conference with Euthydemus. Now Socrates said that conferences were so called because the custom was to meet and confer together, in order to distinguish things according to their different species, and he advised the frequent holding of these conferences, because it is an exercise that improves and makes men truly great, teaches them to become excellent politicians, and ripens the judgment and understanding.