Born in 434 B.C., Plato was about 30, or almost 30, in 404 B.C., when the democracy was overthrown by the aristocrats.

Plato tells us in his Seventh Letter that the aristocrats at once (eu0qu/j) asked him to join them: ‘I thought (w|)h/qhn) that they would (ga\r au0tou/j) manage the State so as to bring men out of a bad way of life into a good one (e1k tinoj a0di/kou bi/ou e0pi\ di/kaion tro/pon a1gontaj dioikh/sein dh\ th\n po/lin, Pl. SL.324c6-d1).’  In the Charmides he focussed attention on sȏphrosunȇ, the moral and political virtue with which, on the basis of which, this ideal – bringing men out of a bad way of life into a good one – could be achieved.

The Charmides was written in the time of the most severe political upheaval in the history of Athens: Athenian democracy was abolished; ‘thirty rulers with full powers over public affairs as a whole were appointed’ (tria/konta de\ pa/ntwn a1rxontej kate/sthsan au0tokra/torej, Pl. SL.324c6-d1). There was only a narrow window of time within which Plato could write the Charmides: it began with Critias’ (Socrates’ main interlocutor in the dialogue) appointment as one of the Thirty, it ended when Critias became their leader; under his leadership they became Thirty Tyrants.

In the Charmides there appears to be no obvious apprehension of the impending disaster; and yet, Plato appears to have been well aware that he must present the Thirty, and the administrators around them, with the notion of the ideal state as promptly as possible. In his view, such task could be attempted only if Socrates became positively involved in it. He solved the problem, in the dialogue, by outlining the ideal state within the framework of a discussion between Critias and Socrates, dramatically projecting it into the days in which Critias emulated Socrates.

Xenophon in his Memorabilia testifies to it that the time of Critias’ emulation of Socrates was not Plato’s wishful invention. His testimony begins at Memorabilia I. ii. 12 with the accusation that ‘Among the associates of Socrates were Critias and Alcibiades (Swkra/tei o9milhta\ genome/nw Kriti/aj te kai\ A)lkibia/dhj); and none wrought so many evils to the state (plei=sta kaka\ th\n po/lin e0poihsa/thn)’. It ends with ‘Socrates finding that Critias loved Euthydemus and wanted to lead him astray; he tried to restrain him by saying that it was mean and unbecoming in a gentleman to sue like a beggar to the object of his affection, whose good opinion he coveted, stooping to ask a favour that it was wrong to grant.’ (E.C. Marchant’s translation)

Marchant’s ‘translation’ of Xenophon’s ‘finding that Critias loved Euthydemus and wanted to lead him astray’ is a very timid rendering of the Greek: Kriti/an me\n toi/nun ai0sqano/menoj e0rw~nta Eu0qudh/mou (‘when he found that Kritias, loving Euthydemus,’) peirw~nta xrh=sqai kaqa/per oi9 pro\j t’a0frodi/sia tw~n swma/twn a0polau/ontej (‘wanted to use him as those who enjoy the bodies [of boys] in the aphrodisia’).

As Critias paid no heed to Socrates’ attempts to restrain him (tou= de\ Kriti/ou toi=j toiou/toij ou0x u9paku/ontoj ou0de\ a0potrepome/nou), ‘it is said that Socrates (le/getai to\n Swkra/thn) in the presence of many others (a1llwn te pollw~n paro/ntwn), and of Euthydemus (kai\ tou= Eu0qudh/mou), said (ei0pei=n) that Critias seems to him to have the feelings of a pig (o3ti u9iko\n au0tw~| dokoi/h pa/sxein o9 Kriti/aj), desiring to rub himself against Euthydemus (e0piqumw~n Eu0qudh/mw| prosknh=sqai) as pigs (w#sper ta\ u3dia) against stones (toi=j li/qoij). Because of which (e0c w{n dh/) Critias hated Socrates (kai\ e0mi/sei to\n Swkra/thn o9 Kriti/aj).’ (Xen. Mem. I. ii. 29-31)

In view of Xenophon’s testimonies, we cannot but admire Plato’s self-confidence, daring and skill, with which he proposed the principles of aristocracy in Socrates’ discussion with Critias on the virtue of swfrosu/nh.

Critias’ first definition of swfrosu/nh is ‘doing one’s own things’ (to\ ta\ e9autou= pra/ttein); had the Thirty enforced this principle, and they had the power to do so, they would have had in their hands a functioning state; their reign would not have become the short-lived rule of the Thirty Tyrants. Curiously, Critias’ attempt to defend his definition of swfrosu/nh as ‘doing one’s own things’ became short-lived under the impact of Socrates' objections, as will be seen.

It was the juvenile Charmides who proposed the definition of temperance (swfrosu/nh) as ‘doing one’s own things’ (to\ ta\ e9autou= pra/ttein). He proposed it to Socrates for examination, as something he heard someone to say (o4 h1dh tou h1kousa le/gontoj, 161b5). When Socrates surmised that he had heard it from Critias (Kriti/ou tou=de a0kh/koaj au0to/), Critias denied it: ‘It seems (E1oiken)’, said Critias (e1fh o9 Kriti/aj), ‘from someone else (a1llou), for not from me (ou0 ga\r dh\ e0mou= ge).’ So Charmides asked Socrates: ‘But what matter (A)lla\ ti/ diafe/rei), said he (h] d’ o3j), the Charmides (o9 Xarmi/dhj), from whom (o3tou) I heard this (h1kousa)?’ ‘No matter at all (Ou0de/n),’ I replied (h]n d’ e0gw&), ‘for the point is to investigate not who said the words (pa/ntwj ou0 tou=to ske/pteon, o3stij au0to\ ei]pen), but whether (a0lla\ po/teron) they are true or not (a0lhqe\j le/getai h2 ou1).’

***

Let me remind the reader that the whole dialogue is narrated by Socrates. I try to give some clarity to the translation by distinguishing the interlocutors with the help of quotation marks. The words Socrates says as a narrator are left unmarked. And when I can, I use Jowett’s translation.

***

‘There you are in the right (Nu=n o0rqw~j le/geij),’ he [that is Charmides] replied (h] d’ o3j).

‘To be sure (Nh\ Di/a),’ I said (h]n d’ e0gw&); ‘yet if we shall ever be able to discover the truth, I would be surprised (qauma/zoim’ a1n), for they are a kind of riddle (ai0ni/gmati ga/r tini e1oiken),’

‘What makes you think so? (o3ti dh\ ti/ ge;)’ he said (e1fh).

‘Because not, (o3ti ou0 dh/pou)’ I said (h]n d’ e0gw&), ‘in the way he said the words (h[| ta\ r9h/mata e0fqe/gxato), he meant them, saying that temperance is doing one’s own things (tau/th| kai\ e0no/ei, le/gwn swfrosu/nhn ei]nai to\ ta\ au9tou= pra/ttein). Or do you think that the scribe is doing nothing when he reads or writes (h2 su\ ou0de\n h9gh=| pra/ttein to\n grammatisth\n o3tan gra/fh| h2 a0nagignw&skh|;)?’

‘I should rather think that he was doing something (E1gwge, h9gou=mai me\n ou]n)’ he said (e1fh).

‘And does it seem to you that his own name only (Do/kei ou]n soi to\ au9tou= o1noma mo/non) the scribe writes and reads (gra/fein o9 grammatisth=j kai\ a0nagignw&skein), or teaches you boys to (h2 u9ma\j tou\j pai=daj dida/skein), or did you write your enemies names as well (h2 ou0de\n h3tton ta\ tw~n e0xqrw~n e0gra/fete) as your own and your friends’ names (h2 ta\ u9me/tera kai\ ta\ tw~n fi/lwn o0no/mata;)’?

‘As much one as the other (Ou0de\n h[tton).’

‘And was there anything meddling or intemperate in this (H} ou]n e0polupragmonei=te kai\ ou0k e0swfronei=te tou=to drw~ntej;)?’

‘Certainly not (Ou0damw~j).’

‘And yet if reading and writing are the same as doing, you were doing what were not your things (Kai\ mh\n ou0 ta\ u9me/tera/ ge au0tw~n e0pra/ttete, ei1per to\ grafei=n pra/ttein ti/ e0stin kai\ to\ a0nagignw&skein).’

‘But they are the same as doing (A)lla\ mh\n e1stin).’

‘And the healing art (Kai\ ga\r to\ i0a=sqai), my friend (w} e9tai=re), and building (kai\ to\ oi0kodomei=n), and weaving (kai\ to\ u9fai/nein), and doing anything whatever which is done by art (kai\ to\ h3|tini ou]n te/xnh| o9tiou=n tw~n th=j te/xnhj e1rgwn a0perga/zesqai), – these all clearly come under the head of doing (pra/ttein dh/pou ti/ e0stin).’

‘Certainly (Pa/nu ge).’

‘What then (Ti/ ou]n;)?’ said I (e]n d’ e0gw&), ‘Do you think that a state would be well ordered (dokei= a2n soi po/lij eu1 oikei=sqai) by this law (u9po\ tou/tou tou= no/mou) which compelled (tou= keleu/ontoj) every man to weave and wash his own coat (to\ e9autou= i9ma/tion  e3kaston u9fai/nein kai\ plu/nein), and make his own shoes (kai\ u9podh/mata skutotomei=n), and his own flask (kai\ lh/kuqon) and strigil (kai\ stleggi/da), and all other implements (kai\ ta]lla pa/nta) on the same principle (kata\ to\n au0to\n lo/gon), abstaining from what is not one’s own (tw~n me\n a0llotriw~n mh\ a3ptesqai), and every one doing and performing his own (ta\ de\ e9autou= e3kaston e0rga/zesqai/ te kai\ pra/ttein;)?’

‘I think not’ (Ou0k e1moige dokei=), said he (h] d’ o3j).

‘But (A)lla\ me/ntoi),’ I said (e1fhn e0gw&), a temperate state (swfro/nwj ge oi0kou=sa) will be a well-ordered state (eu] a2n oi0koi=to).’

‘Of course (Pw~j d’ ou0k;),’ he replied (e1fh).

‘Then temperance, I said, ‘will not be doing one’s own things; not at least in this way, or doing things of this sort (Ou0k a1ra, h]n d’ e0gw&, to\ ta\ toiau=ta/ te kai\ ou3tw ta\ e9autou= pra/ttein swfrosu/nh a2n ei1h).’

‘Clearly not (Ou0 fai/netai).’

Then, as I was just now saying, he who declared that temperance is a man doing his own things had another and hidden meaning (H0nitteto a1ra, w3j e1oiken, o3per a1rti e0gw& e1legon, o9 le/gwn to\ ta\ au9tou= pra/ttein swfrosu/nhn ei]nai); for I do not think that he could have been such a fool as to mean this (ou0 ga/r pou ou3tw ge h]n eu0h/qhj). Was he a fool who told you (h] tinoj h0liqi/ou h1kousaj touti/ le/gontoj), Charmides (w} Xarmi/dh;)?’

‘Nay (H#kista/ ge),’ he replied (e1fh), I certainly thought him a very wise man (e0pei/ toi kai\ pa/nu e0do/kei sofo\j ei]nai).’

‘Then I am quite certain (Panto\j toi/nun ma=llon, w(j e0moi\ dokei=) he put forth his definition as a riddle (ai1nigma au0to\ prou/balen), thinking that no one would know the meaning of the words “doing his own things” (w(j o2n xalepo\n to\ ta\ au9tou= pra/ttein gnw~nai o3ti pote e1stin).’

‘I dare say (I!swj,),’ he replied (e1fh).

‘And what is the meaning (Ti/ ou]n a2n ei1h pote\) of a man doing his own things (to\ ta\ au9tou= pra/ttein;)? Can you tell me (e1xeij ei0pei=n;)?

‘Indeed, I cannot (Ou0k oi1da ma\ Di/a e1gwge)’ said he (h] d’ o3j); ‘and I should not wonder (a0ll’ i1swj ou0de\n kwlu/ei) if the man himself who used this phrase did not understand what he was saying (mhde\ to\n le/gonta mhde\n ei0de/nai o3ti e0no/ei).’ Whereupon he laughed slyly (kai\ a3ma tau=ta le/gwn u9pege/la te), and looked at Critias (kai\ ei0j to\n Kriti/an a0pe/blepen).

***

We can see here Socrates and Charmides exposing Critias to ridicule. And Critias did not like it, as Socrates shows next.

***

Critias had long been showing uneasiness (Kai\ o9 Kriti/aj dh=loj me\n h]n kai\ pa/lai a0gwniw~n), for he felt that he had a reputation to maintain with Charmides and the rest of the company (kai\ filoti/mwj pro/j te to\n Xarmi/dhn kai pro\j tou\j paro/ntaj e1xwn). He had, however, hitherto managed to restrain himself (mo/gij d’ e9auto\n e0n tw~| pro/sqen kate/xwn); but now he could no longer forebear (to/te ou0x oi[o/j te e0ge/neto), and I am convinced of the truth of the suspicion which I entertained at the time (dokei= ga/r moi panto/j ma=llon a0lhqe\j ei]nai, o4 e0gw_ u9pe/labon), that Charmides had heard this answer about temperance from Critias (tou= Kriti/ou a0khkoe/nai to\n Xarmi/dhn tau/thn th\n a0po/krisin peri\ th=j swfrosu/nhj). And Charmides (o9 me\n ou]n Xarmi/dhj), who did not want to answer himself (boulo/menoj mh\ au0to\j u9pe/xein lo/gon), but to make Critias answer (a0ll’ e0kei=non th=j a0pokri/sewj), tried to stir him up (u9peki/nei au0to\n e0kei=non). He went on pointing out (kai\ e0nedei/knuto) that he had been refuted (w(j e0celhlegme/noj ei1h), at which Critias grew angry (o9 d’ ou0k h0ne/sxeto), and appeared, as I thought, inclined to quarrel with him (a0lla/ moi e1docen o0rgisqh=nai au0tw~|); just as (w3sper) a poet (poihth/j) might quarrel with an actor who spoiled his poems in repeating them (u9pokrith=| kakw~j diatiqe/nti ta\ e9autou= poih/mata); so looking hard at him (w#st’ e0mble/yaj au0tw~|) he said (ei]pen) –

‘Do you imagine (Ou3twj oi1ei), Charmides (w} Xarmi/dh), that the author of this definition of temperance did not understand the meaning of his own words, because you do not understand them (ei0 su\ mh\ oi]sqa o3ti pot’ e0no/ei o4j e1fh swfrosu/nhn ei]nai to\ ta\ e9autou= pra/ttein, ou0de\ dh\ e0kei=non ei0de/nai;)?’

***

If Plato wrote the Charmides as epitome of aristocracy that the Thirty and their administration should accept as principles they should follow, why did he aggravate Critias in its midst? Xenophon’s Memorabilia with its account of the time during which Critias was one of Socrates’ associates and followers may help us find the answer.

Xenophon writes: 'Critias and Alcibiades (‘Kai\ Kriti/aj kai\ Alkibia/dhj), so long as they were with Socrates (e3wj me\n Swkra/tei sunh/sthn), they found in him an ally who gave them strength to conquer their evil passions (e0duna/sqhn e0kei/nw| xrwme/nw summa/xw| tw~n mh\ kalw~n e0piqumiw~n kratei=n).’ (Xen. Mem. I.ii.24) With Critias this period ended, when he got enamoured with Euthydemus. Unable to restrain Critias by appealing to his better feelings, ‘Socrates, it is said, exclaimed in the presence of Euthydemus and many others (le/getai to\n Swkra/thn a1llwn te pollw~n paro/ntwn kai\ tou= Eu0qudh/mou ei0pei=n), “Critias seems to have the feelings of a pig (o3ti u9iko\n au0tw~| dokoi/h pa/sxein o9 Kriti/aj), desiring to rub against Euthydemus (e0piqumw~n Eu0qudh/mw| prosknh=sqai) just as pigs against stone (w#sper ta\ u3dia toi=j li/qoij).” (Xen. Mem. I.ii.30) Xenophon says that ‘because of this (e0c w#n dh/) Critias hated Socrates (kai\ e0mi/sei to\n Swkra/thn o9 Kriti/aj).'

If Plato was to have any hope of having his Charmidian outline of aristocracy accepted by the Thirty, his hopes focussed on cultivating Critias’ magnanimity. He could not refer to Socrates’ comparing Critias to a pig, but he could find a way of aggravating Critias in his discussion with Socrates, and then letting Critias’ magnanimity, and his appreciation of Socrates, shine in the last section of the dialogue.

***

‘Why, at his age,’ I said, ‘most excellent Critias, he can hardly be expected to understand (All’, w} be/ltiste, e1fhn e0gw&, Kriti/a, tou=ton me\n ou0de\n qaumasto\n a0gnoei=n thlikou=ton o1nta); but you, who are older, and have studied, may well be assumed to know the meaning of them (su\ de/ pou ei0ko\j ei0de/nai kai\ h9liki/aj e3neka kai\ e0pimelei/aj); and therefore, if you agree with him, and accept his definition of temperance (ei0 ou]n sugxwrei=j tout’ ei]nai swfrosu/nhn o3per ou9tosi/ le/gei kai\ parade/xh| to\n lo/gon), I would much rather argue with you than with him about the truth or falsehood of the definition (e1gwge polu\ a2n h3dion meta\ sou\ skopoi/mhn ei1t’ a0lhqe\j ei1te mh\ to\ lexqe/n).’

‘I entirely agree (A)lla\ pa/nu sugxwrw~, e1fh),’ said Critias, ‘and accept the definition (kai\ parade/xomai).’

***

Socrates calmed the situation by profoundly changing it. From now on, Critias becomes Socrates’ interlocuter, opponent and partner, in discussing sȏphrosunȇ.

***

‘Very good,’ I said (Kalw~j ge su\ toi/nun, h]n d’ e0gw&, poiw~n); ‘and now let me repeat my question – do you admit, as I was just now saying (kai/ moi le/ge, h] kai\ a4 nundh\ h0rw&twn e0gw~ sugxwrei=j), that all craftsmen make or do something (tou\j dhmiourgou\j pa/ntaj poiei=n ti;)?’

‘I do’ (E!gwge).

‘And do they make their own things only, or that of others also? (E! ou]n dokousi/ soi ta\ e9autw~n mo/non poiei=n h2 ka\ ta\ tw~n a1llwn;)’

‘Those of other’s also,’ (Kai\ ta\ tw~n a1llwn)

‘And are they temperate (Swfronou=sin ou]n), seeing that they are not making only their own things (ou0 ta\ e9autw~n mo/non poiou/ntej;)?’

‘Why not (Ti/ ga\r kwlu/ei;)?’ he said (e1fh).

‘No objection on my part (Ou0de\n e0me/ ge),’ I said (h]n d’ e0gw&), ‘but there may be a difficulty on his (a0ll’ o3ra mh\ e0kei=non kwlu/ei) who proposes as a definition of temperance (o3j u9poqe/menoj swfrosu/nhn ei]nai) “doing one’s own things” (to\ ta\ e9autou= mo/non pra/ttein) and then says that there is no reason (e1peita ou0de/n fhsi kwlu/ein) why those who do the things of others should not be temperate (kai\ tou\j ta\ tw~n a1llwn pra/ttontaj swfronei=n).’

‘Nay, said he; did I ever acknowledge that those who do the things of others are temperate? I said those who make, not those who do.’ E)gw& ga/r pou, h] d’o3j, tou=q’ w(molo/ghka, w(j oi9 ta\ tw}n a1llwn pra/ttontej swfronou/sin, ei0 tou\j poiou=ntaj w(molo/ghka.)

What! I asked; do you mean to say that doing and making are not the same?’ (Ei0pe/ moi, h]n d‘ e0gw&, ou0 tau0to\n kalei=j to\ poiei=n kai\ to\ pra/ttein;)

`No more, he replied, than making or working are the same (Ou0 me/ntoi, e1fh, ou0de\ ga\r to\ e0rga/zesqai kai\ poiei=n); thus much I have learned from Hesiod (e0maqo\n ga\r par’ H(sio/dou), who said (o3j e1fh) that “work is no disgrace” (e1rgon ou0de\n ei]nai o1neidoj). Now do you imagine that if he had meant by working and doing such things as you were describing, he would have said that there was no disgrace in them (oi1ei ou]n au0to/n, ei0 ta\ toiau=ta e1rga e0ka/lei kai\ e0rga/zesqai kai\ pra/ttein, oi3a nundh\ su\ e1legej, ou0deni\ a2n o1neidoj fa/nai ei]nai) – for example in the manufacturing of shoes (skutotomou=nti), or in selling pickles (h2 tarixopwlou=nti), or sitting for hire in a house of ill fame (h2 e0p’ oi0kh/matoj kaqhme/nw|;)? That, Socrates, is not to be supposed (Ou0k oi1esqai/ ge xrh/, w} Sw&kratej) … For things nobly and usefully made he called works (ta\ ga\r kalw~j te kai\ w}feli/mwj poiou=mena e1rga e0ka/lei); and such makings he called workings and doings (kai\ e0rgasi/aj te kai\ pra/ceij ta\j tiau/taj poih/seij); and he must be supposed to have called such things only man’s proper things (fa/nai de/ ge xrh\ kai\ oi0kei=a mo/na ta\ toiau/ta h9gei=sqai au0to/n), and what is hurtful (ta\ de\ blabera\ pa/nta), not his things (a0llo/tria): and in that sense Hesiod, and any wise man, may be reasonably supposed (w3ste kai\ H(si/odon xrh\ oi1esqai kai\ a1llon o3stij fro/nimoj) to call him wise who does his own things (to\n ta\ au9tou= pra/ttonta tou=ton sw&frona kalei=n).’

‘O Critias (W) Ktiti/a),’ I said (h]n d’ e0gw&), ‘no sooner had you opened your mouth (kai\ eu0qu\j a0rxome/nou sou), than I pretty well knew that you would call that which is proper to a man, and that which is his own, good (sxedo\n e0ma/nqanon to\n lo/gon, o3ti ta\ oi0kei=a/ te kai\ ta\ au9tou= a0gaqa\ kaloi=hj); and that the makings of the good you would call doings (kai\ ta\j tw~n a0gaqw~n poih/seij pra/ceij) … Now I have no objection to your giving names any signification which you please (a0ll’ e0gw& soi ti/qesqai me\n tw~n o0noma/twn di/dwmi o3ph| a2n bou/lh| e3kaston), if you will only tell me (dh/lou de\ mo/non) what you mean by them (e0f’ o3ti a2n fe/rh|j t’ou/noma o3ti a2n le/gh|j). Please then to begin again (nu=n ou]n pa/lin e0c a0rxh=j), and be a little plainer (safe/steron o3risai). Do you mean that this doing or making, or whatever is the word you would use, of good actions (a]ra th\n tw~n a0gaqw~n pra/cin h2 poi/hsin h2 o3pwj su\ bou/lei o0noma/zein, tau/thn le/geij su/), is temperance (swfrosu/nhn ei]nai;)?’

‘I do (E1gwge),’ he said (e1fh) … for temperance I define in plain words to be the doing of good actions (th\n ga\r tw~n a0gaqw~n pra=cin swfrosu/nhn ei]nai safw~j soi diori/zomai).

‘And you may be very likely right in what you are saying (Kai\ ou0de/n ge/ se i1swj kwlu/ei a0lhqh= le/gein); but I am curious to know (to/de ge me\ntoi, h]n d’ e0gw&, qauma/zw) whether you imagine that temperate men are ignorant of their own temperance (ei0 swfronou=ntaj a0nqrw&pouj h9gh=| su\ a0gnoei=n o3ti swfronou/sin;)?’

‘I do not think so (A)ll’ ou0x h9gou=mai),’ he said (e1fh).

‘And yet were you not saying, just now, that craftsmen might be temperate in doing another’s things, as well as doing their own (Ou0k o0li/gon pro/teron, e1fhn e0gw&, e0le/geto u9po\ sou= o3ti tou\j dhmiou/rgouj ou0de\n kwlu/ei kai\ au] ta\ tw~n a1llwn poiou=ntaj swfronei=n;)? … But must the physician necessarily know (H) ou]n kai\ gignw&skein a0na/gkh tw~| i0atrw~|) when his treatment is likely to prove beneficial (o3tan te w@feli/mwj i0a=tai), and when not (kai\ o3tan mh/;)? Or the craftsman when he is likely to be benefited, and when not to be benefited, by the work which he is doing (kai\ e9ka/stw| tw~n dhmiourgw~n o3tan te me/llh| o0nh/sesqai a0po\ tou= e1rgou ou[ a2n pra/tth| kai\ o3tan mh/;)?’ … Then, as would seem, in doing good, he may act wisely or temperately, and be wise or temperate, but not know his own wisdom or temperance (O0kou=n, w#j e1oiken, e0ni/ote w)feli/mwj pra/caj pra/ttei me\n swfro/nwj kai\ swfronei=, a0gnoei= d’ e9auto\n o3ti swfronei=;)?

‘But that (A)lla\ tou=to me/n)’, he said (e1fh), Socrates (w} Sw&kratej), is impossible (ou0k a1n pote ge/noito); and therefore if this is, as you imply, the necessary consequence of any of my previous admissions (a0ll’ ei1 ti su\ oi1ei e0k tw~n e1mprosqen u3p’ e0mou= w(mologhme/nwn ei0j tou=to a0nagkai=on ei]nai sumbai/nein), I will withdraw them (e0kei/nwn a1n ti e1gwge ma=llon a0naqei/mhn), and I am not ashamed to confess that I was in error (kai\ ou0k a2n ai0sxunqei/hn mh\ ou0xi\ o0rqw~j fa/nai ei0rhke/nai), rather than admit (ma=llon h1 pote sugxwrh/saim’ a1n) that a man can be temperate or wise who does not know himself (a0gnoou/nta au0to\n e9auto\n a1nqrwpon swfronei=n). For this would certainly be maintained by me to be temperance and wisdom (sxedo\n ga/r ti e1gwge au0to\ touto/ fhmi ei]nai swfrosu/nhn), knowing oneself (to\ gignw&skein e9auto/n), and I agree with him who dedicated at Delphi this inscription (kai\ sumfe/romai tw~| e0n Delfoi=j a0naqe/nti to\ toiou=ton gra/mma).

I shall leave Critias’ and Socrates’ discussion of swfrosu/nh as self-knowledge for the next post.