Zeus the Tragedian (46-50)

Timokles

Tell me, wretch, have at sea? you ever been Damis. Yes, often.

Timokles

You were carried along then, were you not, either by the wind striking the main-sail and filling the staysail, or by the rowers, while some one person stood at the helm and brought the vessel through in safety?

Damis

Certainly.

Timokles

Then the ship could not sail unless it was steered; but you imagine that this universe moves along without pilot or guide?

Zeus

Well done, Timokles! that is a powerful comparison.

Damis

But, Timokles, darling of the gods, you would have seen that our pilot was always devising something to our advantage and making his arrangements at the proper time, and giving his commands to the sailors in good season, and that there was nothing useless or foolish about the ship. On the contrary, everything was altogether useful and necessary to their management of her. But this pilot of yours, whom you suppose to stand at the helm of this great ship, and his crew, do not order a single thing sensibly or as it ought to be. The forestay is hauled aft if it so happens, and the sheets forward. Sometimes the anchors are of gold, while the stern is ornamented with lead. Under water the ship's lines are good, but

above the water-line she is shapeless.

Damis

And among the sailors themselves you will find that one who is lazy, unskilled, and afraid of his duties draws double or treble pay, while another, who is an expert swimmer and quick to spring to the yards, and who knows the best thing to do in every case, this man is set simply to bale out bilge-water. You will find the same sort of thing among the passengers, too. A worthless rascal occupies the place of honor next the captain, and receives attention. Another, an indecent fellow, or a parricide, or a temple-robber, is honored above others, and has taken possession of the upper deck, while many men of culture are penned together in a corner of the vessel and trodden underfoot by those who are really their inferiors. At any rate, you remarked how Sokrates made the voyage, and Aristeides and Phokion, without either daily bread enough or room to stretch their legs on the bare deck along the hold, and on the other hand how well Kallias and Meidias and Sardanapalos fared in their overweening luxury, spitting on those beneath.

Damis

This is the sort of thing that goes on in your ship, sage Timokles, wherefore the shipwrecks are countless. But if any pilot stood at the helm, and kept a lookout and ordered everything, he would know in the first place who were good and who were worthless of the ship's company, and he would apportion to

each what befitted his merits, giving the better quarters near himself on deck to the better men, and the lower parts to the worse, and he would cause some of the better sort to sit at table together and come to terms of confidence. Among the sailors a zealous man would be distinguished by being put on the lookout or made captain of a watch, or set over all the others. But a lazy shirk would get the rope's end about his head five times a day. So, my friend, your comparison seems to have capsized because it fell into the hands of a bad pilot.

Momos

Things are running with the tide for Damis now, and he is sailing to victory with a fair wind.

Zeus

Your metaphor is just, Momos, and Timokles invents no forcible argument. He only ladles out easily refuted commonplaces one after another that are in every one's mouth.