Their souls we fan into flame with music and
arithmetic at first and we teach them to write their
letters and to read them trippingly. As they
progress, we recite for them sayings of wise men,
deeds of olden times, and helpful fictions, which we
have adorned with metre that they may remember
them better. Hearing of certain feats of arms and
famous exploits, little by little they grow covetous


 

and are incited to imitate them, in order that they
too may be sung and admired by men of after time.
Both Hesiod and Homer have composed much
poetry of that sort for us. 
When they enter political life and have at length
to handle public affairs—but this, no doubt, is foreign
to the case, as the subject proposed for discussion at
the outset was not how we discipline their souls, but
why we think fit to train their bodies with hardships
like these. Therefore I order myself to be silent,
without waiting for the crier to do it, or for you, the
Areopagite; it is out of deference, I suppose, that
you tolerate my saying so much that is beside the
point.
 ANACHARSIS 
Tell me, Solon, when people do not say what is
most essential in the Areopagus, but keep it to
themselves, has the court devised no penalty for
them?
 SOLON 
Why did you ask me that question? I do not
understand.
 ANACHARSIS 
Because you propose to pass over what is best
and: for me most delightful to hear about, what
concerns the soul, and to speak of what is less
essential, gymnastics and physical exercises.
 SOLON 
Why, my worthy friend, I remember your admonitions in the beginning and do not wish the discussion

 

to meander out of its channel for fear of confusing your
memory with its flow. However, I shall discuss this,
too, in brief, as best I can. To consider it carefully
would be matter for another conversation.
 
We harmonize their minds by causing them to
learn by heart the laws of the community, which are
exposed in public for everyone to read, written in
large letters, and tell what one should do and what
one should refrain from doing; also by causing them
to hold converse with good men, from whom they
learn to say what is fitting and do what is right, to
associate with one another on an equal footing, not to
aim at what is base, to seek what is noble, and to do
no violence. These men we call sophists and philosophers. Furthermore, assembling them in the theatre,
we instruct them publicly through comedies and
tragedies, in which they behold both the virtues and
the vices of the ancients, in order that they may
recoil from the vices and emulate the virtues. The
comedians, indeed, we allow to abuse and ridicule
any citizens whom they perceive to be following
practices that are base and unworthy of the city, not
only for the sake of those men themselves, since they
are made better by chiding, but for the sake of the
general public, that they may shun castigation for
similar offences.
 ANACHARSIS 
I have seen the tragedians and comedians that
you are speaking of, Solon, if I am not mistaken;
they The tragedians. There may be a lacuna in the text. had on heavy, high footgear, clothing that
was gay with gold stripes, and very ludicrous head-


 

pieces with great, gaping mouths; they shouted
loudly from out of these, and strode about in the
footgear, managing somehow or other to do it safely.
The city was then holding a feast, in honour, I think,
of Dionysus. The comedians were shorter, nearer
to the common level, more human, and less given
to shouting, but their headpieces were far more
ludicrous. In fact the whole audience laughed at
them; but they all wore long faces while they
listened to the tall fellows, pitying them, I suppose,
because they were dragging such clogs about!
 SOLON 
It was not the actors that they pitied, my dear
fellow. No doubt the poet was presenting some
calamity of old to the spectators and declaiming
mournful passages to the audience by which his
hearers were moved to tears. Probably you also saw
flute-players at that time, and others who sang in
concert, standing in a circle. Even singing and
flute-playing is not without value, Anacharsis.
By all these means, then, and others like them,
we whet their souls and make them better.
 
As to their bodies—for that is what you were
especially eager to hear about—we train them as
follows. When, as I said, Pp. 33 they are no longer soft
and wholly strengthless, we strip them, and think it
best to begin by habituating them to the weather,
making them used to the several seasons, so as not
to be distressed by the heat or give in to the cold.
Then we rub them with olive-oil and supple them
in order that they may be more elastic, for since
we believe that leather, when softened by oil, is
harder to break and far more durable, lifeless as it


 

is, it would be extraordinary if we should not think
that the living body would be put in better condition
by the oil.
After that, having invented many forms of athletics and appointed teachers for each, we teach one,
for instance, boxing, and another the pancratium, in
order that they may become accustomed to endure
hardships and to meet blows, and not recoil for fear
of injuries. This helps us by creating in them two
effects that are most useful, since it makes them not
only spirited in facing dangers and unmindful of
their bodies, but healthy and strong into the
bargain.
Those of them who put their bent heads together
and wrestle learn to fall safely and get up easily, to
push, grip and twist in various ways, to stand being
choked, and to lift their opponent high in the air.
They too are not engaging in useless exercises; on
the contrary, they indisputably acquire one thing,
which is first and greatest: their bodies become less
susceptible and more vigorous through being exercised
thoroughly. There is something else, too, which
itself is not trivial: they become expert as a result
of it, in case they should ever come to need what
they have learned in battle. Clearly such a man,
when he closes with an enemy, will trip and throw
him more quickly, and when he is down, will know
how to get up again most easily. For we make all
these preparations, Anacharsis, with a view to that
contest, the contest under arms, and we expect to
find men thus disciplined far superior, after we have
suppled and trained their bodes naked, and so
have made them healthier and stronger, light and

 

elastic, and at the same time too heavy for their
opponents.
 
You can imagine, I suppose, the consequence—
what they are likely to be with arms in hand when
even unarmed they would implant fear in the enemy.
They show no white and ineffective corpulence or
pallid leanness, as if they were women’s bodies
bleached out in the shade, quivering and streaming
with profuse sweat at once and panting beneath the
helmet, especially if the sun, as at present, blazes
with the heat of noon. What use could one make
of men like that, who get thirsty, who cannot stand
dust, who break ranks the moment they catch sight
of blood, who lie down and die before they get
within a spear’s cast and come to grips with the
enemy?
But these young men of ours have a ruddy
skin, coloured darker by the sun, and manly faces;
they reveal great vitality, fire, and courage; they
are aglow with such splendid condition; they are
neither lean and emaciated nor so full-bodied as
to be heavy, but symmetrical in their lines; they
have sweated away the useless and superfluous part
of their tissues, but what made for strength and
elasticity is left upon them uncontaminated by what
is worthless, and they maintain it vigorously. In fact,
athletics do in our bodies just what winnowers do to
wheat: they blow away the husks and the chaff, but
separate the grain out cleanly and accumulate it for
future use.