Xenophon's Socratic Education

Reason, Religion, and the Limits of Politics

Dustin Sebell

• Publisher: University of Pennsylvania Press
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9780812297843
• Topic: Philosophy
• Subtopic: Ancient & Classical Philosophy

A careful reading of Book IV of Xenophon's Memorabilia and a demonstration of a Socratic education It is well known that Socrates was executed by the city of Athens for not believing in the gods and for corrupting the youth. Despite this, it is not widely known what he really thought, or taught the youth to think, about philosophy, the gods, and political affairs. Of the few authors we rely on for firsthand knowledge of Socrates—Aristophanes, Xenophon, Plato, and Aristotle—only Xenophon, the least read of the four, lays out the whole Socratic education in systematic order.In Xenophon's Socratic Education, through a careful reading of Book IV of Xenophon's Memorabilia, Dustin Sebell shows how Socrates ascended, with his students in tow, from opinions about morality or politics and religion to knowledge of such things. Besides revealing what it was that Socrates really thought—about everything from self-knowledge to happiness, natural theology to natural law, and rhetoric to dialectic—Sebell demonstrates how Socrates taught promising youths, like Xenophon or Plato, only indirectly: by jokingly teaching unpromising youths in their presence. Sebell ultimately shows how Socrates, the founder of moral and political philosophy, sought and found an answer to the all-important question: should we take our bearings in life from human reason, or revealed religion?

PART ONE

CHAPTER 1

Socratic Rhetoric

I

Xenophon’s writings can be divided into Socratic and non-Socratic writings. There are four Socratic writings: the Memorabilia, the Symposium, the Oeconomicus, and the Apology. Xenophon’s Socrates drew a distinction between a man’s deeds, his speeches, and his thoughts (Memorabilia I.1.19; compare IV.3.1 with IV.5.1, IV.6.1, and IV.7.1).¹ And thus, if the opening remarks of Xenophon’s Socratic works are any indication, the Symposium would seem to be devoted Socrates’s (playful) deeds (Symposium 1.1), the Oeconomicus to his speeches (Oeconomicus 1.1), and the Apology to his thoughts (Apology 1). But what, then, are we to make of the Memorabilia?

The Memorabilia, by far the longest of Xenophon’s Socratic writings, opens with the question of how, by what speeches, the Athenians were persuaded to put Socrates to death for not believing in the gods in whom the city believed, introducing new daimonia, and corrupting the youth (I.1.1). There follows a defense of Socrates—first and foremost, against the charge that he did not believe in the gods of the city (I.1) and, second, against the charge that he corrupted the youth (I.2)—after which, with the legal case against him settled one way or another, Xenophon goes on to write as much as he can recall about how Socrates benefited his companions by his deeds and by his speeches (I.3.1ff.). Thus, after concluding his legal defense of Socrates, Xenophon would seem to devote the rest of the Memorabilia to an extralegal defense of Socrates. Since not only lawfulness (IV.4, IV.6.5–6) but also, or instead, benefiting others can be called justice (IV.8.11), it would seem that the Memorabilia as a whole is devoted to Socrates’s justice: first, but very briefly, to his innocence of the charges brought against him and second, but at great length, to his beneficial deeds and speeches.² So far, this is well-trodden ground.³ Just beyond it, however, there lies some untrodden ground to which we can now make our way.

To begin with, precisely if the Memorabilia is the most defensive or apologetic of Xenophon’s four Socratic writings,⁴ would it not make sense for it to be also, in places, his most daring? One indication of this is that only in the Memorabilia—in the safety afforded Xenophon, not least of all, by his defense of Socrates against the charge of unbelief, a defense in which he differentiates Socrates from the other, “pre-Socratic” philosophers (I.1.11–16)—does Xenophon feel free to report not one but two Socratic conversations about the nature of all things (I.4, IV.3; consider I.1.16).⁵ For another, better indication of this, however, take another look at the Memorabilia as a whole. One or two things seem to be missing from Xenophon’s legal defense of Socrates. In the first place, in the course of defending Socrates against the charge that he did not believe in the gods of the city, Xenophon says that Socrates spoke about the nature of all things differently than the other, “pre-Socratic” philosophers did (I.1.11). By asking “what is” questions, Socrates was always speaking about the human things and about the other (nonhuman) things (kai peri ton allon), knowledge of which, he believed, makes one a gentleman in the strict sense. For example, he was always speaking in this way about the pious and the just (I.1.16). Now, according to Xenophon, how Socrates thought about such things was by no means evident to all (I.1.17). “‘What all know’ is precisely not what is going on in the mind of the doer. … It is what he does or says but not what he silently deliberates.”⁶ And yet, in the course of defending Socrates against the thoughtcrimes with which he was charged, Xenophon himself avoids the subject of his thought. Casting only sideways glances at how Socrates thought, for example, about the gods, he finally rests his case on the man’s deeds and his speeches alone (consider I.1.20).⁷ In the second place, in the course of defending Socrates against the charge that he corrupted the youth, Xenophon lets it be known that Socrates did teach the youth (consider I.2.8, I.2.52). Socrates taught “the political things” (I.2.17) and “an art of speeches” (I.2.31–38; consider I.2.21). And he taught the latter, according to Xenophon’s indications, if not also the former, by asking the youth questions to which he himself already knew the answers—for example, about the just and the holy as compared, or contrasted, with the arts (I.2.35–37; consider I.2.32, I.2.38).⁸ The two charges brought against Socrates are linked by the fact that Socrates taught the youth to think like him (consider I.2.8, I.2.52). But then, assuming that Xenophon makes his case that Socrates did not think unlawful thoughts or teach the youth to think such thoughts either, what is missing from the first part of the Memorabilia is any perfectly obvious treatment of what it was that Socrates did think or teach the youth to think. Or what is missing, to be more precise, is any perfectly obvious treatment of what it was that Socrates thought or taught the youth to think about the “what is” questions—for example, “What is impiety?” or “What is lawbreaking?” (consider I.2.2)—knowledge of the true answers to which, he believed, makes one a gentleman in the strict sense. And Xenophon does not appear to be in any rush to fill the gap. As we make our way through second part of the Memorabilia, it quickly becomes obvious that Socrates was a benefactor to his companions, both by his deeds and by his speeches, in great and small matters alike. Much less obvious, however, is the fact that he was a teacher. Or much less obvious is the fact that he was a benefactor to his companions, in particular, by teaching them to think like him about the “what is” questions on which his new and different way of philosophizing came to depend.⁹ And that means, since education is the greatest good for a human being (Apology 21), it is not so obvious from the Memorabilia that Socrates was the benefactor par excellence, a benefactor when it comes to the greatest good—not until Book IV, at least.

The second part of the Memorabilia has two parts of its own. According to the opening remarks of Book IV, Memorabilia I.3–III.14 confirmed that Socrates benefited his companions by treating different matters in different places, whereas the rest of the Memorabilia confirms that Socrates benefited his companions by treating one and the same matter in different ways. And Xenophon all but concludes Book IV with the remark, which has to be considered together with this, that Book IV confirms that Socrates revealed his thought in some way. About the opening and concluding remarks of Book IV, we will have more to say soon enough. For now, whatever else they may mean, we can say this much: Memorabilia I.3–III.14 confirms that Socrates benefited his companions, in deed and in speech, by treating different matters in different places, whereas Memorabilia IV confirms that Socrates benefited his companions, in deed and in speech, by revealing his thought—not least of all, if we follow Xenophon’s indications, his thought about the pious and the just—in some way.¹⁰ Book IV, coming full circle, thus returns to the matters treated in the first part of the Memorabilia: what did Socrates think or teach the youth to think? But Xenophon himself treats such matters, in Book IV, in a different way. No longer treating what Socrates thought or taught the youth to think with a view to making the case that there was nothing illegal going on, Xenophon does so, instead, with a view to proving how beneficial Socrates was. Socrates at his most beneficial, Socrates as teacher—that is the most Xenophon ever lets us see, in any of his writings, of the philosopher himself.¹¹

II

According to Xenophon’s opening remarks, Socrates was beneficial “in every matter” and “in every way.” But to prove just how beneficial Socrates was in these regards Xenophon goes on to mention that, according to someone less perceptive than himself,¹² nothing was more beneficial than being together with Socrates “in any place” and “in any matter” (IV.1.1). Socrates could be beneficial (in every matter) in any number of different ways according to Xenophon, whereas he could be supremely beneficial (in every matter) in any number of different places according to someone less perceptive than Xenophon. So far, most of Xenophon’s memorabilia or recollections of Socrates have tended to shed more light on the different places in which Socrates treated matters than on the different ways in which he did so. And yet the places, which were clear even to the less perceptive, stand in much less need of illumination than the ways. In other words, the Memorabilia itself has so far tended to confirm the rather obvious fact that Socrates could benefit others by treating different matters in different places (consider I.1.10). But we still await confirmation of the much less obvious fact, which was clear to Xenophon, if not to the less perceptive, that Socrates could benefit others by treating different matters—or indeed, one and the same matter—in different ways (compare I.3.1 with IV.1.1). Accordingly, after confirming on the basis of Memorabilia I.3–III.14 that Socrates was beneficial “in any place,” Xenophon sets out in Book IV to confirm that Socrates was beneficial “in every way.” For he shifts from the benefits connected with remembering Socrates, even when Socrates was not present, to the benefits connected with accompanying or remembering Socrates, even when Socrates was not being entirely serious or straightforward. Socrates, Xenophon contends, was no less beneficial when treating a matter in a joking way than he was when treating the matter in a serious way (IV.1.1; consider I.3.7–8). And if Xenophon were to prove this particular contention in the course of his subsequent recollections, would he not thereby confirm the more general contention that the many ways of Socrates were beneficial?

Although Socrates would frequently say that he was in love with someone, it was clear to Xenophon at least that he did not desire those whose bodies were beautiful, but those whose natures were fit for virtue of the soul (consider I.3.8–14). These “good natures” were distinguished in Socrates’s eyes by qualities of heart, not least, and mind. They learned quickly what they applied themselves to, they remembered what they learned, and they desired all subjects of learning on account of which it is possible to manage a household and a city nobly (IV.1.2; contrast Oeconomicus 13.9). Because good natures were liable to learn these subjects quickly—after all, they desired to do so—and to remember what they learned of them, they were distinguished by their self-sufficiency when it came to education. But they were not altogether self-sufficient. At any rate, Socrates desired them because he thought that, after having been educated, they would not only be happy themselves and manage their own households nobly but also be capable of making other human beings and cities happy (IV.1.2). He saw fit, that is, to help them reach their potential. As for those who reached their potential, it is not certain whether Socrates thought that, in addition to being happy themselves, they would go on in the next place to use their capacity to make other human beings, much less cities, happy (consider I.6.15).¹³ Either way, they do not get exactly what they bargained for: the state reached by good natures who receive an education is not exactly the state good natures desire to reach prior to receiving an education. An education changes for the better even, or precisely, their expectations of what an education is or does. Exactly what an education is or does remains uncertain for now. But Xenophon leaves no doubt about the fact that, although Socrates approached good natures as a lover, he was only joking; his serious desire was for their education. Were Xenophon to prove that Socrates, by joking in this way, was most beneficial and, in particular, able to satisfy his serious desire for the education of good natures, then Xenophon would confirm his original contention about the many ways of Socrates more generally. Presumably, then, he will prove as much next.

In fact, however, he does not even try to do so. Instead, he says that Socrates did not approach all natures in the same “way” (IV.1.3).¹⁴ And then he abruptly descends from good natures and Socrates’s way of approaching them to two or three bad natures and Socrates’s way of approaching them. By Xenophon’s account, Socrates approached those “aristocrats” who thought they were, because they were reputed to be, by nature good but despised learning in one way: by arguing that they were in need of an education (IV.1.3–4). And he approached those “oligarchs” who were proud of their wealth and who supposed they did not need any education in addition in another way: by arguing that they were foolish and naïve (IV.1.5). Socrates, therefore, approached these bad natures as an exhorter to education, learning, or knowledge, and, almost by implication, as a teacher himself. And this is strange. For it means that, when Socrates approached natures who were not educable, he all but did so as a teacher, while, on the other hand, when he approached natures who were educable, he did so not as a teacher, but as a lover. Stranger still, after descending from good natures to these two bad natures, Xenophon descends yet again to a youth named Euthydemos, who will prove to be worse even than the latter two bad natures.¹⁵ And after describing the way Socrates approached this youth, too, but at much greater length and in much greater detail (IV.2.1–8), Xenophon goes on to describe for the first and only time the Socratic education itself—or, at any rate, the Socratic education of Euthydemos—from start to finish (IV.2.9ff.). Thus, in addition to the fact that Xenophon lets us see far more of the way Socrates approached Euthydemos than of the ways he approached any of the better natures, the one and only time Xenophon lets us see Socrates as a teacher, Socrates is the teacher of a youth who is not even remotely fit for an education.

Now, just when it seems Book IV could not get any stranger, Xenophon tells us that, although Euthydemos’s soul was unfit for an education, the youth’s body was beautiful (IV.2.1, I.2.29–30). So in the wake of the disclosure that Socrates “loved,” not youths whose bodies were beautiful, but youths whose natures were fit for virtue of the soul (because he desired their education), Xenophon goes on to describe an attempt on the part of Socrates to educate a youth whose body was beautiful,¹⁶ but whose nature was not fit for virtue of the soul.¹⁷ Do we have here, in lieu of a serious Socratic education, an exact parody or caricature of one? If so, to prove that Socrates’s joking way of treating a matter was no less beneficial than his serious way of treating it (IV.1.1), Xenophon has recourse especially to Socrates’s joking way of educating bad natures—not, or not merely, to Socrates’s joking way of approaching good natures as a lover (IV.1.2).

How then does a joking education of a bad nature differ from a serious education of a good nature? Only at the conclusion of the greater part of the Memorabilia (I.3–III)—which, to repeat, tended to confirm that Socrates could benefit others by treating different matters in different places—did Xenophon say in plain terms that Socrates distinguished between good natures, who were educable, and bad natures, who were not. And yet with this, writes Leo Strauss, “[he] compels us to consider whether all interlocutors of Socrates who were presented in the preceding Books were good natures and which, if any, were not: we easily could have read those Books without wondering at all whether the interlocutors presented there were good natures.”¹⁸ Likewise, only at the conclusion of the education of Euthydemos—which, to repeat, tends to confirm that the many ways of Socrates were beneficial to others—does Xenophon say in plain terms that Socrates conversed with or spoke to others in two different ways. And yet with this, too, he compels us to consider whether all Socrates said in the preceding Book or Books was said in one way and what, if anything, was said in the other. For, at the conclusion of the education, Xenophon says that if someone contradicted Socrates about something without being able to say anything clear himself, then Socrates led the speech up toward the assumption or hypothesis on which it was based by asking “what is” questions. And in this way, Xenophon says, “the truth” became clear also to the contradictors themselves. So much for when Socrates “examined” (epeskepsato) something (IV.6.13–14). On the other hand, Xenophon says that when Socrates would “go through” (diexioi) rather than “examine” something in speech by himself (compare IV.7.8 with IV.6.15 and IV.6.14)—that is, when he would “teach” (consider Oeconomicus 6.2–3, 15.13, 16.1)—he made his way “through” things generally agreed upon, believing this to be “safety” in speech. Xenophon knew no one, therefore, whose speeches produced so much agreement, which is not to say complete agreement (see, for the best example of this, Symposium 4.56–60), among those who merely (thoughtlessly) listened. But, in this, Socrates was following in another’s footsteps: those of Odysseus, “the man of many ways” (aner polytropos) himself (Homer, Odyssey I.1). For Socrates used to say that Homer, too, said of Odysseus that he was a safe rhetor, since Odysseus could lead his speeches “through” the opinions of human beings (IV.6.15).¹⁹ According to Xenophon, then, Socrates conversed with contradictors in such a way as to reach the truth; yet he spoke to noncontradictors in such a way as to remain safely within the confines of their own, generally accepted opinions.

Euthydemos, who contradicts Socrates hardly at all and feebly at that, is a noncontradictor. This much is obvious. Equally obvious is the fact that the education Socrates conveys to Euthydemos amounts to little or nothing more than a recapitulation of safe, generally accepted opinions. Xenophon seems to say that before making his companions skilled in speaking, acting, and contriving, Socrates taught them “moderation.” For, as the examples of Alcibiades and Critias suggest, the just—or, more exactly, the less unjust—use of the former arts or capacities requires the latter virtue (IV.3.1, I.2.15–17). But “moderation,” which thus seems to be the end for the sake of which the arts or capacities in question should be used, consists in piety (I...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• Part One
• Part Two
• Part Three
• Notes
• Index