καὶ μὴν ἐναντίον ἐστὶν οὗ ἐθέλεις ὃ νῦν ποιεῖς. οἴει μὲν γὰρ ἐν παιδείᾳ καὶ αὐτὸς εἶναί τις δόξειν σπουδῇ συνωνούμενος τὰ κάλλιστα τῶν βιβλίων· τὸ δέ σοι περὶ τὰ κάτω χωρεῖ, καὶ ἔλεγχος γίγνεται τῆς ἀπαιδευσίας πως τοῦτο. μάλιστα δὲ οὐδὲ τὰ κάλλιστα ὠνῇ, ἀλλὰ πιστεύεις τοῖς ὡς ἔτυχεν ἐπαινοῦσι καὶ ἕρμαιον εἶ τῶν τὰ τοιαῦτα ἐπιψευδομένων τοῖς βιβλίοις καὶ θησαυρὸς ἕτοιμος τοῖς καπήλοις αὐτῶν. ἢ πόθεν γάρ σοι διαγνῶναι δυνατόν, τίνα μὲν παλαιὰ καὶ πολλοῦ ἄξια, τίνα δὲ φαῦλα καὶ ἄλλως σαπρά, εἰ μὴ τῷ διαβεβρῶσθαι καὶ κατακεκόφθαι αὐτὰ τεκμαίροιο καὶ συμβούλους τοὺς σέας ἐπὶ τὴν ἐξέτασιν παραλαμβάνοις; ἐπεὶ τοῦ ἀκριβοῦς ἢ ἀσφαλοῦς ἐν αὐτοῖς τίς ἢ ποία διάγνωσις;
ἵνα δέ σοι δῶ αὐτὰ ἐκεῖνα κεκρικέναι, ὅσα ὁ Καλλῖνος εἰς κάλλος ἢ ὁ ἀοίδιμος Ἀττικὸς σὺν ἐπιμελείᾳ τῇ πάσῃ ἔγραψαν, σοὶ τί ὄφελος, ὦ θαυμάσιε, τοῦ κτήματος οὔτε εἰδότι τὸ κάλλος αὐτῶν οὔτε χρησομένῳ ποτὲ οὐδὲν μᾶλλον ἢ τυφλὸς ἄν τις ἀπολαύσειε κάλλους παιδικῶν; σὺ δὲ ἀνεῳγμένοις μὲν τοῖς ὀφθαλμοῖς ὁρᾷς τὰ βιβλία, καὶ νὴ Δία κατακόρως, καὶ ἀναγιγνώσκεις ἔνια πάνυ ἐπιτρέχων, φθάνοντος τοῦ ὀφθαλμοῦ τὸ στόμα· οὐδέπω δὲ τοῦτό μοι ἱκανόν, ἢν μὴ εἰδῇς τὴν ἀρετὴν καὶ κακίαν ἑκάστου τῶν ἐγγεγραμμένων καὶ συνίῃς ὅστις μὲν ὁ νοῦς σύμπασιν, τίς δὲ ἡ τάξις τῶν ὀνομάτων, ὅσα τε πρὸς τὸν ὀρθὸν κανόνα τῷ συγγραφεῖ ἀπηκρίβωται καὶ ὅσα κίβδηλα καὶ νόθα καὶ παρακεκομμένα.
Let me tell you, that you are choosing the worst way to attain your object. You think that by buying up all the best books you can lay your hands on, you will pass for a man of literary tastes: not a bit of it; you are merely exposing thereby your own ignorance of literature. Why, you cannot even buy the right things: any casual recommendation is enough to guide your choice; you are as clay in the hands of the unscrupulous amateur, and as good as cash down to any dealer. How are you to know the difference between genuine old books that are worth money, and trash whose only merit is that it is falling to pieces? You are reduced to taking the worms and moths into your confidence; their activity is your sole clue to the value of a book; as to the accuracy and fidelity of the copyist, that is quite beyond you.
And supposing even that you had managed to pick out such veritable treasures as the exquisite editions of Callinus, or those of the far-famed Atticus, most conscientious of publishers,—what does it profit you? Their beauty means nothing to you, my poor friend; you will get precisely as much enjoyment out of them as a blind lover would derive from the possession of a handsome mistress. Your eyes, to be sure, are open; you do see your books, goodness knows, see them till you must be sick of the sight; you even read a bit here and there, in a scrambling fashion, your lips still busy with one sentence while your eyes are on the next. But what is the use of that? You cannot tell good from bad: you miss the writer’s general drift, you miss his subtle arrangements of words: the chaste elegance of a pure style, the false ring of the counterfeit,—’tis all one to you.
τί οὖν; φὴς καὶ ταὐτὰ μὴ μαθὼν ἡμῖν εἰδέναι; πόθεν, εἰ μή ποτε παρὰ τῶν Μουσῶν κλῶνα δάφνης καθάπερ ὁ ποιμὴν ἐκεῖνος λαβών; Ἑλικῶνα μὲν γάρ, ἵνα διατρίβειν αἱ θεαὶ λέγονται, οὐδὲ ἀκήκοας οἶμαί ποτε, οὐδὲ τὰς αὐτὰς διατριβὰς ἡμῖν ἐν παισὶν ἐποιοῦ· σοὶ καὶ μεμνῆσθαι Μουσῶν ἀνόσιον. ἐκεῖναι γὰρ ποιμένι μὲν οὐκ ἂν ὤκνησαν φανῆναι σκληρῷ ἀνδρὶ καὶ δασεῖ καὶ πολὺν τὸν ἥλιον ἐπὶ τῷ σώματι ἐμφαίνοντι, οἵῳ δὲ σοί — καί μοι πρὸς τῆς Λιβανίτιδος ἄφες ἐν τῷ παρόντι τὸ μὴ σύμπαντα σαφῶς εἰπεῖν — οὐδὲ ἐγγὺς γενέσθαι ποτʼ ἂν εὖ οἶδʼ ὅτι ἠξίωσαν, ἀλλʼ ἀντὶ τῆς δάφνης μυρρίνῃ ἂν ἢ καὶ μαλάχης φύλλοις μαστιγοῦσαι ἀπήλλαξαν ἂν τῶν τοιούτων, ὡς μὴ μιᾶναι μήτε τὸν Ὀλμειὸν μήτε τὴν τοῦ Ἵππου κρήνην, ἅπερ ἢ ποιμνίοις διψῶσιν ἢ ποιμένων στόμασι καθαροῖς πότιμα.
καίτοι οὐδέ, εἰ καὶ πάνυ ἀναίσχυντος εἶ καὶ ἀνδρεῖος τὰ τοιαῦτα, τολμήσειας ἄν ποτε εἰπεῖν ὡς ἐπαιδεύθης ἢ ἐμέλησέ σοι πώποτε τῆς ἐν χρῷ πρὸς τὰ βιβλία συνουσίας ἢ ὡς διδάσκαλός σοι ὁ δεῖνα ἢ τῷ δεῖνι συνεφοίτας.
Are we to understand that you possess literary discernment without the assistance of any study? And how should that be? perhaps, like Hesiod, you received a laurel-branch from the Muses? As to that, I doubt whether you have so much as heard of Helicon, the reputed haunt of those Goddesses; your youthful pursuits were not those of a Hesiod; take not the Muses’ names in vain. They might not have any scruples about appearing to a hardy, hairy, sunburnt shepherd: but as for coming near such a one as you (you will excuse my particularizing further just now, when I appeal to you in the name of the Goddess of Lebanon?) they would scorn the thought; instead of laurel, you would have tamarisk and mallow-leaves about your back; the waters of Olmeum and Hippocrene are for thirsty sheep and stainless shepherds, they must not be polluted by unclean lips. I grant you a very creditable stock of effrontery: but you will scarcely have the assurance to call yourself an educated man; you will scarcely pretend that your acquaintance with literature is more than skin-deep, or give us the names of your teacher and your fellow students?
ἀλλʼ ἑνὶ τούτῳ μόνῳ πάντα ἐκεῖνα ἀναδραμεῖσθαι νῦν ἐλπίζεις, τῷ κτᾶσθαι πολλὰ βιβλία. κατὰ δὴ ταῦτα, ἐκεῖνα ἔχε συλλαβὼν τὰ τοῦ Δημοσθένους ὅσα τῇ χειρὶ τῇ αὑτοῦ ὁ ῥήτωρ ἔγραψε, καὶ τὰ τοῦ Θουκυδίδου ὅσα παρὰ τοῦ Δημοσθένους καὶ αὐτὰ ὀκτάκις μεταγεγραμμένα εὑρέθη, καὶ ὅλως ἅπαντα ἐκεῖνα ὅσα ὁ Σύλλας Ἀθήνηθεν εἰς Ἰταλίαν ἐξέπεμψε· τί ἂν πλέον ἐκ τούτου εἰς παιδείαν κτήσαιο, κἂν ὑποβαλόμενος αὐτὰ ἐπικαθεύδῃς ἢ συγκολλήσας καὶ περιβαλόμενος περινοστῇς; πίθηκος γὰρ ὁ πίθηκος, ἡ παροιμία φησί, κἂν χρύσεα ἔχῃ σύμβολα. καὶ σὺ τοίνυν βιβλίον μὲν ἔχεις ἐν τῇ χειρὶ καὶ ἀναγιγνώσκεις ἀεί, τῶν δὲ ἀναγιγνωσκομένων οἶσθα οὐδέν, ἀλλʼ ὄνος λύρας ἀκούεις κινῶν τὰ ὦτα.
ὡς εἴ γε τὸ κεκτῆσθαι τὰ βιβλία καὶ πεπαιδευμένον ἀπέφαινε τὸν ἔχοντα, πολλοῦ ἂν ὡς ἀληθῶς τὸ κτῆμα ἦν ἄξιον καὶ μόνων ὑμῶν τῶν πλουσίων, εἰ ὥσπερ ἐξ ἀγορᾶς ἦν πριάσθαι τοὺς πένητας ἡμᾶς ὑπερβάλλοντας. τίς δὲ τοῖς ἐμπόροις καὶ τοῖς βιβλιοκαπήλοις ἤρισεν ἂν περὶ παιδείας τοσαῦτα βιβλία ἔχουσι καὶ πωλοῦσιν, ἀλλʼ εἴ γε διελέγχειν ἐθέλεις, ὄψει μηδʼ ἐκείνους πολύ σου τὰ εἰς παιδείαν ἀμείνους, ἀλλὰ βαρβάρους μὲν τὴν φωνὴν ὥσπερ σύ, ἀξυνέτους δὲ τῇ γνώσει, οἵους εἰκὸς εἶναι τοὺς μηδὲν τῶν καλῶν καὶ αἰσχρῶν καθεωρακότας. καίτοι σὺ μὲν δύο ἢ τρία παρʼ αὐτῶν ἐκείνων πριάμενος ἔχεις, οἱ δὲ νύκτωρ καὶ μεθʼ ἡμέραν διὰ χειρὸς ἔχουσιν αὐτά.
No; you think you are going to work off all arrears by the simple expedient of buying a number of books. But there again: you may get together the works of Demosthenes, and his eight beautiful copies of Thucydides, all in the orator’s own handwriting, and all the manuscripts that Sulla sent away from Athens to Italy,—and you will be no nearer to culture at the end of it, though you should sleep with them under your pillow, or paste them together and wear them as a garment; an ape is still an ape, says the proverb, though his trappings be of gold. So it is with you: you have always a book in your hand, you are always reading; but what it is all about, you have not an idea; you do but prick up asinine ears at the lyre’s sound. Books would be precious things indeed, if the mere possession of them guaranteed culture to their owner. You rich men would have it all your own way then; we paupers could not stand against you, if learning were a marketable commodity; and as for the dealers, no one would presume to contest the point of culture with men who have whole shopfuls of books at their disposal. However, you will find on examination that these privileged persons are scarcely less ignorant than yourself. They have just your vile accent, and are as deficient in intelligence as one would expect men to be who have never learnt to distinguish good from bad. Now you see, you have merely bought a few odd volumes from them: they are at the fountain-head, and are handling books day and night. Judge from this how much good your purchases are likely to do you; unless you think that your very book-cases acquire a tincture of learning, from the bare fact of their housing so many ancient manuscripts.
τίνος οὖν ἀγαθοῦ ὠνῇ ταῦτα, εἰ μὴ καὶ τὰς ἀποθήκας αὐτὰς τῶν βιβλίων ἡγῇ πεπαιδεῦσθαι τοσαῦτα περιεχούσας παλαιῶν ἀνδρῶν συγγράμματα;
καί μοι, εἰ δοκεῖ, ἀπόκριναι· μᾶλλον δέ, ἐπεὶ τοῦτό σοι ἀδύνατον, ἐπίνευσον γοῦν ἢ ἀνάνευσον πρὸς τὰ ἐρωτώμενα. εἴ τις αὐλεῖν μὴ ἐπιστάμενος κτήσαιτο τοὺς Τιμοθέου αὐλοὺς ἢ τοὺς Ἰσμηνίου, οὓς ἑπτὰ ταλάντων ὁ Ἰσμηνίας ἐν Κορίνθῳ ἐπρίατο, ἆρʼ ἂν διὰ τοῦτο καὶ αὐλεῖν δύναιτο, ἢ οὐδὲν ὄφελος αὐτῷ τοῦ κτήματος οὐκ ἐπισταμένῳ χρήσασθαι κατὰ τὴν τέχνην; εὖ γε ἀνένευσας· οὐδὲ γὰρ τοὺς Μαρσύου ἢ Ὀλύμπου κτησάμενος αὐλήσειεν ἂν μὴ μαθών. τί δʼ εἴ τις τοῦ Ἡρακλέους τὰ τόξα κτήσαιτο μὴ Φιλοκτήτης ὢν ὡς δύνασθαι ἐντείνασθαί τε αὐτὰ καὶ ἐπίσκοπα τοξεῦσαι; τί σοι καὶ οὗτος δοκεῖ; ἆρʼ ἂν ἐπιδείξασθαί τι ἔργον τοξότου ἄξιον; ἀνένευσας καὶ τοῦτο. κατὰ ταὐτὰ δὴ καὶ ὁ κυβερνᾶν οὐκ εἰδὼς καὶ ἱππεύειν μὴ μεμελετηκὼς εἰ ὁ μὲν ναῦν καλλίστην παραλάβοι, τοῖς πᾶσι καὶ εἰς κάλλος καὶ εἰς ἀσφάλειαν κάλλιστα ἐξειργασμένην, ὁ δὲ ἵππον κτήσαιτο Μῆδον ἢ κενταυρίδην ἢ κοππαφόρον, ἐλέγχοιτο ἄν, οἶμαι, ἑκάτερος οὐκ εἰδὼς ὅ τι χρήσαιτο ἑκατέρῳ. ἐπινεύεις καὶ τοῦτο; πείθου δὴ καὶ τοῦτό μοι ἐπίνευσον· εἴ τις ὥσπερ σὺ ἀπαίδευτος ὢν ὠνοῖτο πολλὰ βιβλία, οὐ σκώμματα οὗτος εἰς ἀπαιδευσίαν καθʼ ἑαυτοῦ ἐκφέροι; τί ὀκνεῖς καὶ τοῦτο ἐπινεύειν; ἔλεγχος γάρ, οἶμαι, σαφὴς οὗτος, καὶ τῶν ὁρώντων ἕκαστος εὐθὺς τὸ προχειρότατον ἐκεῖνο ἐπιφθέγγεται, τί κυνὶ καὶ βαλανείῳ;
καὶ ἐγένετό τις οὐ πρὸ πολλοῦ ἐν Ἀσίᾳ πλούσιος ἀνὴρ ἐκ συμφορᾶς ἀποτμηθεὶς τοὺς πόδας ἀμφοτέρους, ἀπὸ κρύους, οἶμαι, ἀποσαπέντας ἐπειδή ποτε διὰ χιόνος ὁδοιπορῆσαι συνέβη αὐτῷ. οὗτος τοίνυν τοῦτο μὲν ἐλεεινὸν ἐπεπόνθει, καὶ θεραπεύων τὴν δυστυχίαν ξυλίνους πόδας πεποίητο, καὶ τούτους ὑποδούμενος ἐβάδιζεν ἐπιστηριζόμενος ἅμα τοῖς οἰκέταις. ἐκεῖνο δὲ γελοῖον ἐποίει, κρηπῖδας γὰρ καλλίστας ἐωνεῖτο νεοτμήτους ἀεί, καὶ τὴν πλείστην πραγματείαν περὶ ταύτας εἶχεν, ὡς καλλίστοις ὑποδήμασι κεκοσμημένα εἴη αὐτῷ τὰ ξύλα. οὐ ταὐτὰ οὖν καὶ σὺ ποιεῖς χωλὴν μὲν ἔχων καὶ συκίνην τὴν γνώμην, ὠνούμενος δὲ χρυσοῦς ἐμβάτας, οἷς μόλις ἄν τις καὶ ἀρτίπους ἐμπεριπατήσειεν;
Oblige me by answering some questions; or rather, as circumstances will not admit of your answering, just nod or shake your head. If the flute of Timotheus, or that of Ismenias, which its owner sold in Corinth for a couple of thousand pounds, were to fall into the hands of a person who did not know how to play the instrument, would that make him a flute-player? would his acquisition leave him any wiser than it found him? You very properly shake your head. A man might possess the instrument of a Marsyas or an Olympus, and still he would not be able to play it if he had never learnt. Take another case: a man gets hold of Heracles’s bow and arrows: but he is no Philoctetes; he has neither that marksman’s strength nor his eye. What do you say? will he acquit himself creditably? Again you shake your head. The same will be the case with the ignorant pilot who is entrusted with a ship, or with the unpractised rider on horseback. Nothing is wanting to the beauty and efficiency of the vessel, and the horse may be a Median or a Thessalian or a Koppa : yet I take it that the incompetence of their respective owners will be made clear; am I right? And now let me ask your assent to one more proposition: if an illiterate person like yourself goes in for buying books, he is thereby laying himself open to ridicule. You hesitate? Yet surely nothing could be clearer: who could observe such a man at work, and abstain from the inevitable allusion to pearls and swine?
There was a wealthy man in Asia, not many years ago, who was so unfortunate as to lose both his feet; I think he had been travelling through snow-drifts, and had got them frost-bitten. Well, of course, it was a very hard case; and in ordering a pair of wooden feet, by means of which he contrived to get along with the assistance of servants, he was no doubt only making the best of a bad job. But the absurd thing was, that he would always make a point of having the smartest and newest of shoes to set off his stumps—feet, I mean. Now are you any wiser than he, when for the adornment of that hobbling, wooden understanding of yours you go to the expense of such golden shoes as would tax the agility of a sound-limbed intellect?
ἐπεὶ δὲ ἐν τοῖς ἄλλοις καὶ τὸν Ὅμηρον ἐπρίω πολλάκις, ἀναγνώτω σοί τις αὐτοῦ λαβὼν τὴν δευτέραν τῆς Ἰλιάδος ῥαψῳδίαν, ἧς τὰ μὲν ἄλλα μὴ ἐξετάζειν· οὐδὲν γὰρ αὐτῶν πρὸς σέ· πεποίηται δέ τις αὐτῷ δημηγορῶν παγγέλοιος ἄνθρωπος, διάστροφος τὸ σῶμα καὶ λελωβημένος. ἐκεῖνος τοίνυν ὁ Θερσίτης ὁ τοιοῦτος εἰ λάβοι τὴν Ἀχιλλέως πανοπλίαν, οἴει ὅτι αὐτίκα διὰ τοῦτο καὶ καλὸς ἅμα καὶ ἰσχυρὸς ἂν γένοιτο, καὶ ὑπερπηδήσεται μὲν τὸν ποταμόν, ἐπιθολώσει δὲ αὐτοῦ τὸ ῥεῖθρον τῷ φόνῳ τῶν Φρυγῶν, ἀποκτενεῖ δὲ τὸν Ἕκτορα καὶ πρὸ αὐτοῦ τὸν Λυκάονα καὶ τὸν Ἀστεροπαῖον, μηδὲ φέρειν ἐπὶ τῶν ὤμων τὴν μελίαν δυνάμενος; οὐκ ἂν εἴποις· ἀλλὰ καὶ γέλωτα ἂν ὀφλισκάνοι χωλεύων ὑπὸ τῇ ἀσπίδι καὶ ἐπὶ στόμα καταπίπτων ὑπὸ τοῦ βάρους καὶ ὑπὸ τῷ κράνει ὁπότε ἀνανεύσειε δεικνὺς τοὺς παραβλῶπας ἐκείνους αὑτοῦ ὀφθαλμοὺς καὶ τὸν θώρακα ἐπαίρων τῷ τοῦ μεταφρένου κυρτώματι καὶ τὰς κνημῖδας ἐπισυρόμενος, καὶ ὅλως αἰσχύνων ἀμφοτέρους, καὶ τὸν δημιουργὸν αὐτῶν καὶ τὸν δεσπότην. τὸ αὐτὸ δὴ καὶ σὺ πάσχων οὐχ ὁρᾷς, ὁπόταν τὸ μὲν βιβλίον ἐν τῇ χειρὶ ἔχῃς πάγκαλον, πορφυρᾶν μὲν ἔχον τὴν διφθέραν, χρυσοῦν δὲ τὸν ὀμφαλόν, ἀναγιγνώσκῃς δὲ αὐτὸ βαρβαρίζων καὶ καταισχύνων καὶ διαστρέφων, ὑπὸ μὲν τῶν πεπαιδευμένων καταγελώμενος, ὑπὸ δὲ τῶν συνόντων σοι κολάκων ἐπαινούμενος, οἳ καὶ αὐτοὶ πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐπιστρεφόμενοι γελῶσι τὰ πολλά;
Among your other purchases are several copies of Homer. Get some one to turn up the second book of the Iliad, and read to you. There is only one part you need trouble about; the rest does not apply to your case. I refer to the harangue of a certain ludicrous, maimed, distorted creature called Thersites. Now imagine this Thersites, such as he is there depicted, to have clothed himself in the armour of Achilles. What will be the result? Will he be converted there and then into a stalwart, comely warrior, clearing the river at a bound, and staining its waters with Phrygian blood? Will he prove a slayer of Asteropaeuses and Lycaons, and finally of Hectors, he who cannot so much as bear Achilles’s spear upon his shoulders? Of course not. He will simply be ridiculous: the weight of the shield will cause him to stagger, and will presently bring him on to his nose; beneath the helmet, as often as he looks up, will be seen that squint; the Achillean greaves will be a sad drag to his progress, and the rise and fall of the breast-plate will tell a tale of a humped-back; in short, neither the armourer nor the owner of the arms will have much to boast of. You are just like Thersites, if only you could see it. When you take in hand your fine volume, purple-cased, gilt-bossed, and begin reading with that accent of yours, maiming and murdering its contents, you make yourself ridiculous to all educated men: your own toadies commend you, but they generally get in a chuckle too, as they catch one another’s eye.
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