S.  “It was agreed, then, that he who does what he thinks right, does so by the spirit of truth-was it not?”

A.  “It was.”

S.  “Then he who eats when he thinks that he ought to eat, does so by the spirit of truth?”

A.  “What next?”

S.  “This next, that he who blows his nose when he thinks that it wants blowing, blows his nose by the spirit of truth.”

A.  “What next?”

S.  “Do not frown, friend.  Believe me, in such days as these, I honour even the man who is honest enough to blow his nose because he finds that he ought to do so.  But tell me-a horse, when he shies at a beggar, does not he also do so by the spirit of truth?  For he believes sincerely the beggar to be something formidable, and honestly acts upon his conviction.”

“Not a doubt of it,” said I, laughing, in spite of myself, at Alcibiades’s countenance.

S.  “It is in danger, then, of proving to be something quite brutish and doggish, this spirit of truth.  I should not wonder, therefore, if we found it proper to be restrained.”

A.  “How so, thou hair-splitter?”

S.  “Have we not proved it to be common to man and animals; but are not those passions which we have in common with animals to be restrained?”

P.  “Restrain the spirit of truth, Socrates?”

S.  “If it be doggishly inclined.  As, for instance, if a man knew that his father had committed a shameful act, and were to publish it, he would do so by the spirit of truth.  Yet such an act would be blackguardly, and to be restrained.”

P.  “Of course.”

S.  “But much more, if he accused his father only on his own private suspicion, not having seen him commit the act; while many others, who had watched his father’s character more than he did, assured him that he was mistaken.”

P.  “Such an act would be to be restrained, not merely as blackguardly, but as impious.”

S.  “Or if a man believed things derogatory to the character of the Gods, not having seen them do wrong himself, while all those who had given themselves to the study of divine things assured him that he was mistaken, would he not be bound to restrain an inclination to speak such things, even if he believed them?”

P.  “Surely, Socrates; and that even if he believed that the Gods did not exist at all.  For there would be far more chance that he alone was wrong, and the many right, than that the many were wrong, and he alone right.  He would therefore commit an insolent and conceited action, and, moreover, a cruel and shameless one; for he would certainly make miserable, if he were believed, the hearts of many virtuous persons who had never harmed him, for no immediate or demonstrable purpose except that of pleasing his own self-will; and that much more, were he wrong in his assertion.”

S.  “Here, then, is another case in which it seems proper to restrain the spirit of truth, whatsoever it may be?”