Socrates, thus appealed to, joins in the discussion. His opinion is that they should find some wise teacher, not so much with a view to lessons in arms, as to a general education of the mind. For no trifling question, he says, is at issue. They are risking the most precious of earthly possessions—their children, upon whose turning out well or ill depends the welfare of the house. For his own part, he knows nothing of the matter. He is neither professor nor inventor himself, and is too poor to pay fees to the Sophists. Nicias and Laches are wealthier and wiser men than he; and he will gladly abide by their decision. But why do their opinions differ?
Nicias thinks they will be drawn into a Socratic argument, as usual, but is very willing to go through an examination; and Laches, though not fond of arguing as a rule, is very ready to listen when the man is in harmony with his words, and willing therefore to be taught by Socrates, whom he knows as not merely a talker, but a doer of brave deeds.
Socrates thinks it will be better to consider, not so much the question of who are the teachers, as what they profess to teach,—namely, Virtue, or more especially that part of it which most concerns them at present—Courage. Then, by a series of questions, he limits the vague definition first given by Laches, and proves to him that there may be other forms of courage as noble as that of the soldier who stands his ground in battle—such as the endurance of pain, or poverty, or reproach; and it generally seems to be a certain wise strength of mind, the intelligent and
