STRANGER: Or rather, my good friend, from what is going to be said.

YOUNG SOCRATES: And what is that?

STRANGER: Let us put to ourselves the case of a physician, or trainer,

who is about to go into a far country, and is expecting to be a long

time away from his patients--thinking that his instructions will not be

remembered unless they are written down, he will leave notes of them for

the use of his pupils or patients.

YOUNG SOCRATES: True.

STRANGER: But what would you say, if he came back sooner than he had

intended, and, owing to an unexpected change of the winds or other

celestial influences, something else happened to be better for

them,--would he not venture to suggest this new remedy, although not

contemplated in his former prescription? Would he persist in observing

the original law, neither himself giving any new commandments, nor the

patient daring to do otherwise than was prescribed, under the idea

that this course only was healthy and medicinal, all others noxious and

heterodox? Viewed in the light of science and true art, would not all

such enactments be utterly ridiculous?

YOUNG SOCRATES: Utterly.

Statesman