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Plutarch's essays and miscellanies, Vol. 1 · Plutarch

OF HEARING.

_The Introduction._ 1. I have sent, Nicander, the reflections of some spare hours concerning Hearing, digested into the following short essay, that being out of the hands of governors and come to man’s estate, you may know how to pay a proper attention to those who would advise you. For that libertinism which some wild young fellows, for want of more happy education, mistake for liberty, subjects them to harder tyrants than their late tutors and masters, even to their own vicious inclinations, which, as it were, break loose upon them. And as Herodotus observes of women, that they put off modesty with their shift,[182] so some young men lay aside with the badges of minority all the sense of shame or fear, and divested of the garment of modesty which sat so well upon them are covered with insolence. But you, who have often heard that to follow God and to obey reason are all one, cannot but believe that men of best sense in passing from minority to manhood do not throw off the government, but simply change their governor. In the room of some mercenary pedant, they receive that divine guide and governor of human life, reason, under whose subjection alone men are properly said to live in freedom. For they only live at their own will who have learned to will as they ought; and that freedom of will which appears in unconstrained appetites and unreasonable actions is mean and narrow, and accompanied with much repentance.

2. For as newly naturalized citizens who were entire strangers and aliens are apt to disrelish many administrations of the government; while those who have previously lived in the country, bred up under the constitution and acquainted with it, act without difficulty in their several stations, well satisfied with their condition; in like manner, a man should for a long time have been bred up in philosophy, and accustomed from his earliest years to receive his lessons and instruction mingled with philosophic reason, that so he may come at last as a kind and familiar friend to philosophy, which alone can array young men in the perfect manly robes and ornaments of reason. Therefore, I believe, some directions concerning hearing will not be ill received by you. _Remarks about Hearing in general._

Of this Theophrastus affirms, that it is the most sensitive of all the senses. For the several objects of sight, tasting, and feeling do not excite in us so great disturbances and alterations as the sudden and frightful noises which assault us only at the ears. Yet in reality this sense is more rational than sensitive. For there are many organs and other parts of the body which serve as avenues and inlets to the soul to give admission to vice; there is but one passage of virtue into young minds, and that is by the ears, provided they be preserved all along free from the corruptions of flattery and untainted with lewd discourses. For this reason Xenocrates was of opinion that children ought to have a defence fitted to their ears rather than fencers or prize-players, because the ears only of the latter suffered by the blows, but the morals of the former were hurt and maimed by words. Not that he thereby recommended deafness, or forbade that they should be suffered to hear at all; but he advised only that debauchery might be kept out, till better principles, like so many guardians appointed by philosophy, had taken charge of that part which is so liable to be drawn aside and corrupted by discourse.

And Bias of old, being ordered by Amasis to send him the best and withal the worst part of the sacrifice, sent the tongue; because the greatest benefits and disadvantages are derived to us thereby. Thus again many diverting themselves with children touch their ears, bidding them return the like again; by which they seem to intimate to them that such best deserve their love and esteem whose obligations enter at the ears. This is evident, that he that has lain fallow all his days, without tasting instruction, will not only prove barren and unfruitful of virtue, but very inclinable to vice; for an uncultivated mind, like untilled ground, will soon be overrun with weeds. For if that violent propensity of the mind to pleasure, and jealousy of all that carries any show of pain,—which proceed not from external causes or received prejudices, but are the natural springs of evil affections and infinite diseases of the mind,—are suffered to take their course, and not restrained, or diverted some other way by wholesome instructions, there can be no beast so savage that it may not be called tame and civilized in respect of such a man. _More General Rules about Hearing._

3. Since then it appears that hearing is of so great use and no less danger to young men, I think it a very commendable thing for such a one to reflect continually with himself, and consult often with others, how he may hear with benefit. And in this particular we may observe many to have been mistaken, that they practise speaking before they have been used enough to hearing. Speaking they think will require some study and attention, but hearing cannot be a thing of any difficulty. Those indeed who play the game of tennis learn at the same time how to throw and how to catch the ball; but in the exercise of the tongue, we ought to practise how to talk well before we pretend to return, as conception and retention of the foetus precede childbirth. When fowls let fall wind-eggs, it is usually said that they are the rudiments of imperfect fruits which will never quicken and have life; and when young men either hear not at all or retain not what they hear, their discourse comes from them altogether as useless and full of wind, And vain and unregarded turns to air.

In filling one vessel from another, they take care to incline and turn it so that nothing be spilled, and that it may be really filling and not emptying; but they think it not worth the heeding to regulate their attention and apply themselves with advantage to a speaker, that nothing of importance may fall beside or escape them. Yet, what is beyond comparison ridiculous, if they happen upon any one who has a knack at describing an entertainment or a show, or can relate his dream well, or give an handsome account of a quarrel between himself and another, such a one they hear with the greatest attention, they court him to proceed, and importune him for every circumstance. Whereas, let another call them about him for any thing useful, to exhort to what is decent or reprehend what is irregular, or to make up a quarrel, they have not temper enough to away with it, but they fight with all their might to put him down by argument, if they are able, or if not, they haste away to more agreeable fopperies; as if their ears, like faulty earthen vessels, might be filled with any thing but what is useful or valuable. But as jockeys take great care in breeding horses to bring them to rein right and endure the bit, so such as have the care of educating children should breed them to endure hearing, by allowing them to speak little and hear much. And Spintharus, speaking in commendation of Epaminondas, says he scarce ever met with any man who knew more and spoke less. Some again make the observation, that Nature has given every man two ears and but one tongue, as a secret intimation that he ought to speak less than he hears.

_Directions concerning Attention._ 4. Well then, silence is at all times a singular ornament of a youth, but especially if he does not interrupt the speaker nor carp and except at every thing he says, but patiently expects the conclusion, though his discourse be none of the best; and when he has done, if he does not presently come over him with an objection, but (as Aeschines directs) allows time to add, if he please, to what has been said, or to alter, or retract. Whereas such as turn too suddenly upon a speaker neither hear nor are heard themselves, but senselessly chatter to one another, and sin against the laws and rules of decorum. But he that brings along with him a modest and unwearied attention has this advantage, that whatever is beneficial in the discourse he makes his own, and he more readily discovers what is false or impertinent, appearing all the while a friend to truth rather than to squabbling or rashness. Therefore it was not ill said, that such as design to infuse goodness into the minds of youth must first exclude thence pride and self-conceit more carefully than we squeeze air out of bladders which we wish to fill with something useful; because, while they are puffed up with arrogance, there is no room to admit any thing else.

5. Thus again, envy and detraction and prejudice are in no case good, but always a great impediment to what is so; yet nowhere worse than when they are made the bosom friends and counsellors of a hearer, because they represent the best things to him as unpleasant and impertinent, and men in such circumstances are pleased with any thing rather than what deserves their applause. Yet he that grieves at the wealth, glory, or beauty of any is but simply envious, for he repines only at the good of others; but he that is ill-natured to a good speaker is an enemy to his own happiness. For discourse to an hearer, like light to the eye, is a great benefit, if he will make the best use of it. Envy in all other instances carries this pretence with it, that it is to be referred to the depraved and ungovernable affections of the mind, but that which is conceived against a speaker arises from an unjust presumption and vain-glorious affectation of praise.

In such a case, the man has not leisure to attend to what he hears; his soul is in continual hurry and disturbance, at one time examining her own habits and endowments, if any way inferior to the speaker; anon, watching the behavior and inclination of others, if inclined to praise or admire his discourse; disordered at the praise and enraged at the company, if he meet with any encouragement. She easily lets slip and willingly forgets what has been said, because the remembrance is a pain and vexation to her; she hears what is to come with a great deal of uneasiness and concern, and is never so desirous that the speaker should hasten to an end, as when he discourses best. After all is over, she considers not what was said, but has respect only to the common vogue and disposition of the audience; she avoids and flies like one distracted such as seem to be pleased, and herds among the censorious and perverse. If she finds nothing to pervert, then she puts forward other speakers, who (as she asserts) have spoken better and with greater force of argument on the same subject. Thus, by abusing and corrupting what was said, she defeats the use and effect of it on herself.

6. He therefore who comes to hear must for the time come to a kind of truce and accommodation with vain-glory, and preserve the same evenness and cheerfulness of humor he would bring with him if he were invited to a festival entertainment or the first-fruits’ sacrifice, applauding the orator’s power when he speaks to the purpose, and where he fails receiving kindly his readiness to communicate what he knows and to persuade others by what wrought upon himself. Where he comes off with success, he must not impute it to chance or peradventure, but attribute all to study and diligence and art, not only admiring but studiously emulating the like; where he has done amiss, he must pry curiously into the causes and origin of the mistake. For what Xenophon says of discreet house-keepers, that they make an advantage of their enemies as well as their friends, is in some sort true of vigilant and attentive hearers, who reap no less benefit from an ill than a good orator. For the meanness and poverty of a thought, the emptiness and flatness of an expression, the unseasonableness of a figure, and the impertinence of falling into a foolish ecstasy of joy or commendation, and the like, are better discovered by a by-stander than by the speaker himself.

Therefore his oversight or indiscretion must be brought home to ourselves, that we may examine if nothing of the same kind has skulked there and imposed on us all the while. For there is nothing in the world more easy than to discover the faults of others; but it is done to no effect if we do not make it useful to ourselves in correcting and avoiding the like failures. When therefore you animadvert upon other men’s miscarriages, forget not to put that question of Plato to yourself, Am not I such another? We must trace out our own way of writing in the discourses of other men, as in another’s eyes we see the reflection of our own; that we may learn not to be too free in censuring others, and may use more circumspection ourselves in speaking. To this design the following method of comparison may be very instrumental; if upon our return from hearing we take what seemed to us not well or sufficiently handled, and attempt it afresh ourselves, endeavoring to fill out one part or correct another, to vary this or model that into a new form from the very beginning. And thus Plato examined the oration of Lysias. For it is a thing of no great difficulty to raise objections against another man’s oration,—nay, it is a very easy matter,—but to produce a better in its place is a work extremely troublesome; as the Spartan, who was told Philip had demolished the city Olynthus, made this reply, But he cannot raise such another. When then it appears, upon handling the same topic, that we do not much excel those who undertook it before, this will abate much of our censorious humor, and our pride and self-conceit will be exposed and checked by such comparisons.

_Caution about Admiration._ 7. To contempt is opposed admiration, which indeed argues a more candid and better disposition; but even in this case no small care is to be observed, and perhaps even greater. For although such as are contemptuous and self-conceited receive but little good from what they hear, yet the good-natured and such as are given to admire every thing take a great deal of harm. And Heraclitus was not mistaken when he said that a fool was put in a flutter at every thing he heard. We ought indeed to use all the candor imaginable in praising the speaker, yet withal as great caution in yielding our assent to what he says; to look upon his expression and action with a favorable construction, but to inspect the usefulness and truth of his doctrine with the nicest and most critical judgment; that speakers may cease to be malicious, and that what they say may do no mischief. For many false and dangerous principles steal upon us through the authority of the speaker and our own credulity.

The Spartan Ephors, approving the judgment of one of an ill conversation, ordered it to be communicated to the people by a person of better life and reputation; thereby wisely and politicly using them to give more deference to the morals than to the words of such as pretend to advise them. But now in philosophy the reputation of the speaker must be pulled off, and his words examined naked and without a mask; for in hearing as in war there are many false alarms. The hoary head of the speaker or his gesture, his magisterial look or his assuming pride, and above all the noise and clapping of the auditory, bear great sway with a raw and inexperienced hearer, who is easily carried away with the tide. The very expression, if sweet and full and representing things with some pomp and greatness, has a secret power to impose upon us. For, as many lapses in such as sing to an instrument escape the hearers, so luxuriancy and pomp of style dazzle the hearer so that he cannot see clearly the argument in hand. And Melanthius, as it is said, being asked his opinion concerning a tragedy of Diogenes, made answer that the words intercepted his sight of it.

But most Sophists in their declamations and speeches not only make use of words to veil and muffle their design; but with affected tone and softness of voice they draw aside and bewitch their followers, for the empty pleasure which they create reaping a more empty glory. So that the saying of Dionysius is very applicable to them, who, being one day extremely pleased with an harper that played excellently well before him, promised the fellow a great reward, yet afterwards would give him nothing, pretending he had kept his word; For, said he, as long as you pleased me by your playing, so long were you pleased by hope of the reward. And such also is the reward this kind of harangues bring to the authors. The hearers admire as long as they are pleased and tickled, but the satisfaction on one hand and glory on the other conclude with the oration; and the hearers lose their time idly, and the speakers their whole life. _How to separate the Useful Part of a Discourse._

8. No, we must separate the trash and trumpery of an oration, that we may come at the more fruitful and useful part; not imitating those women who busy themselves in gathering nosegays and making garlands, but the more useful industry of bees. The former indeed plat and weave together the sweetest and gayest flowers, and their skill is mighty pretty; but it lasts for one day only, and even then is of little or no use; whereas the bees, passing by the beds of violets and roses and hyacinth, fix on the prickly and biting thyme, and settle upon this “intent on the yellow honey,”[183] and taking thence what they need for their work, they fly home laden. In like manner, a well-meaning sincere hearer ought to pass by the flowers of an oration, leaving the gaudy show and theatrical part to entertain dronish Sophists; and, diving into the very mind of the speaker and the sense of his speech, he must draw thence what is necessary for his own service; remembering withal that he is not come to the theatre or music-meeting, but is present at the schools and auditories of philosophy, to learn to rectify his way of life by what he hears.

In order thereunto, he ought to inspect diligently and try faithfully the state and temper of his mind after hearing, if any of his affections are more moderate, if any afflictions grow lighter, if his constancy and greatness of spirit are confirmed, if he feels any divine emotions or inward workings of virtue and goodness upon his soul. For it becomes us but ill, when we rise from the barber’s chair, to be so long in consulting the mirror, or to stroke our heads and examine so curiously the style in which our hair is trimmed and dressed, and then, at our return from hearing in the schools, to think it needless to look into ourselves, or examine whether our own mind has discharged any turbulent or unprofitable affections and is grown more sedate and serene. For, as Ariston was wont to say, The bath and a discourse are of no use unless they are purgative.

9. Let then a young man be pleased and entertained with a discourse; but let him not make his pleasure the only end of hearing, nor think he may come from the school of a philosopher singing and sportive; nor let him call for perfumes and essences when he has need of a poultice and fomentations. But let him learn to be thankful to him that purges away the darkness and stupidity of his mind, though (as we clear beehives by smoking) with an offensive or unpalatable discourse. For though it lies upon a speaker to take some care that his expression be pleasing and plausible, yet a hearer ought not to make that the first thing he looks after. Afterward, indeed, when he has satisfied his appetite with the substance and has taken breath, he may be allowed the curiosity of examining the style and expression, whether it has any thing delicate or extraordinary; as men quench their thirst before they have time to admire the embossing of the bowl. But now such a one as is not intent on the subject-matter, but demands merely that the style shall be plain and pure Attic, is much of his foolish humor who refuses an antidote unless it be mixed in Attic porcelain, or who will not put on a coat in the winter because the cloth is not made of Attic wool; but who can yet sit still, doing nothing and stirring not, under such a thin and threadbare cloak as an oration of Lysias. That extreme dearth of judgment and good sense, and that abundance of subtilty and sophistry which is crept into the schools, is all owing to these corruptions of the youngsters; who, observing neither the lives nor public conversation of philosophers, mind nothing but words and jingle, and express themselves extravagantly upon what they think well said, without ever understanding or enquiring if it be useful and necessary, or needless and vain.

_Of asking Questions._ 10. After this, it will be convenient to lay down some directions touching asking of questions. For it is true, he that comes to a great collation must eat what is set before him, not rudely calling for what is not to be had nor finding fault with the provision. But he that is invited to partake of a discourse, if it be with that proviso, must hear with silence; for such disagreeable hearers as occasion digressions by asking impertinent questions and starting foolish doubts are an hindrance both to the speaker and the discourse, without benefiting themselves. But when the speaker encourages them to propose their objections, he must take care that the question be of some consequence. The suitors in Homer scorned and derided Ulysses.— To no brave prize aspired the worthless swain, ’Twas but for scraps he asked, and asked in vain,[184] because they thought it required a great and heroic soul no less to ask than to bestow great gifts. But there is much better reason to slight and laugh at such a hearer as can please himself in asking little trifling questions. Thus some young fellows, to proclaim their smattering in logic and mathematics, upon all occasions enquire about the divisibility of the infinite, or about motion through a diagonal or upon the sides. But we may answer them with Philotimus, who, being asked by a consumptive phthisical person for a remedy against a whitlow, and perceiving the condition he was in by his color and his shortness of breath, replied, Sir, you have no reason to be apprehensive of that. So we must tell them, You have no reason, young gentlemen, to trouble yourselves about these questions; but how to shake off your conceit and arrogance, to have done with your intrigues and fopperies, and to settle immediately upon a modest and well-governed course of life, is the question for you.

Which doth the very heart-strings move, That ne’er were stirred before,— excite any commotion in your mind, you are not, for fear of being galled by reproof, to fly to such as are treating of other arguments; but you must frequent those places where your particular case is stating, and after lecture address yourself privately to the speaker for better information and fuller satisfaction therein. On the contrary, men commonly flatter themselves, and admire the philosopher so long as he discourses of indifferent things; but if he come home to themselves and deal freely with them about their real interests, this they think is beyond all enduring, or at best a needless piece of supererogation. For they naturally think that they ought to hear philosophy in the schools, like actors on the stage, while in matters out of the school they believe them to be no better men than themselves; and, to confess the truth, they have but reason to think so of many Sophists, who, having once left the desk and laid aside their books, in the serious concerns of human life are utterly insignificant and even more ignorant than the vulgar. But they do not know that even the austerity or raillery of real philosophers, their very nod or look, their smile or frown, and especially their admonitions directed to particular persons, are of weighty importance to such as can brook or attend to them.

Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.

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