hand? You, Antiphon, would seem to suggest that happiness consists of
luxury and extravagance; I hold a different creed. To have no wants at
all is, to my mind, an attribute of Godhead;[5] to have as few wants
as possible the nearest approach to Godhead; and as that which is
divine is mightiest, so that is next mightiest which comes closest to
the divine.

[5] Cf. Aristot. "Eth. N." x. viii. 1.

Returning to the charge at another time, this same Antiphon engaged
Socrates in conversation thus.

Ant. Socrates, for my part, I believe you to be a good and upright
man; but for your wisdom I cannot say much. I fancy you would hardly
dispute the verdict yourself, since, as I remark, you do not ask a
money payment for your society; and yet if it were your cloak now, or
your house, or any other of your possessions, you would set some value
upon it, and never dream, I will not say of parting with it gratis,
but of exchanging it for less than its worth. A plain proof, to my
mind, that if you thought your society worth anything, you would ask
for it not less than its equivalent in gold.[6] Hence the conclusion
to which I have come, as already stated: good and upright you may be,
since you do not cheat people from pure selfishness; but wise you
cannot be, since your knowledge is not worth a cent.

[6] Or rather "money," lit. "silver."

To this onslaught Socrates: Antiphon, it is a tenet which we cling to
that beauty and wisdom have this in common, that there is a fair way
and a foul way in which to dispose of them. The vendor of beauty