you know how to oblige, and yet you put it not in practice to reconcile yourself with Chaerephon.”  “I fear I have not skill enough to compass it.”  “I think,” said Socrates, “there will be no need of any extraordinary skill in the matter; and am certain that you have enough to engage him to wish you well, and to have a great value for you.”  “Pray,” cried Chaerecrates, “if you know any art I have to make myself beloved, let me know it immediately, for hitherto I never perceived any such thing.”  “Answer me,” said Socrates.  “If you desired that one of your friends should invite you to his feast when he offered a sacrifice, what course would you take?” “I would begin first to invite him to mine.”  “And if you would engage him to take care of your affairs in your absence on a journey, what would you do?” “I would first, during his absence, take care of his.”  “And if you would have a foreigner entertain you in his family when you come into his country, what method would you take?” “I would make him welcome at my house when he came to this town, and would endeavour to further the dispatch of his business, that he might do me the like favour when I should be in the city where he lives.”  “Strange,” said Socrates, “that you, who know the common methods of ingratiating yourself, will not be at the pains of practising them.  Why do you scruple to begin to practise those methods?  Is it because you are afraid that, should you begin with your brother, and first do him a kindness, you would appear to be of a mean-spirited and cringing disposition?  Believe me, my friend, you will never, on that account, appear such.  On the contrary, I take it to be the part of an heroic and generous soul to prevent our friends with kindness and our enemies with valour.  Indeed, had I thought that Chaerephon had been more proper than you to propose the reconciliation, I would have endeavoured to have persuaded him to prevent you; but I take you to be more fit to manage this matter, and believe you will bring it to pass rather than he.”  “What you say is absurd and unworthy of you,” replied Chaerecrates.  “Would you have me break the ice; I, who am the younger brother?  Do you forget that among all nations the honour to begin is reserved to the elder?” “How do you mean?” said Socrates.  “Must not a younger brother give the precedency to the older?  Must he not rise up when he comes in, give him the best place, and hold his peace to let him speak?  Delay, therefore, no longer to do what I desire you; go and try to appease your brother.  He will receive you with open arms; it is enough that he is a friend to honour, and of a generous temper, for as there is no readier way to gain the goodwill of the mean and poor than by being liberal to them, so nothing has more influence on the mind of a man of honour and note than to treat him with respect and friendship.”  Chaerecrates objected:  “But when I have done what you say, if my brother should not be better tempered,