‘I think,’ answered Agathon, ‘that it was less his idea to honour the Athenians than to make his own countrymen pay him many _denarii_ to behold the sight.’ ‘And did he wish to buy the hill as well as the buildings on it?’ ‘Why no,’ answered Agathon, ‘for he spoke as one most ignorant, but he guessed that there were as good hills in his own country, which he explained was also the particular residence of the Gods.’ ‘Without doubt he was an American,’ I exclaimed. At this word ‘American’ the two young men leaned forward eagerly, and Phaelon said:―― ‘Tell us, Socrates, have you ever lectured in America?’ ‘How not?’ said I. ‘And did you like the Americans?’ asked Lysis. ‘Tell us what manner of people they are. For we have heard many stories of them. For Thrasymachus tells us that he has nowhere been so well received. And he, you know, has lectured in all the lands he could. But, he says that where in other countries he received nothing but kindness, in America he received a great many dollars as well. And he says that he is convinced that the Gods have emigrated and made it their country, and that, when it has improved a little more, he also will follow the example of the Gods. But Glaucon says just the opposite, maintaining that as the Americans are the farthest away of all the barbarians from Athens and civilization, so are they without any doubt the most completely barbarian. Tell us, therefore, what is true about the Americans, for at your lectures you must have seen and questioned them all.’ At this Agathon, who had been trying to repress his laughter since first Lysis had spoken of my lecture-tour, became redder than ever in the face, and finally burst out saying: ‘Yes, indeed, Socrates is the best person to give you a faithful picture, if he is sufficiently master of himself and a true lover of wisdom.’ ‘Go on,’ I said, ‘and make your meaning clearer and cease to bewilder the young.’ For I knew what Agathon had in his mind to tell them. ‘Why, then, Lysis and Phaelon,’ said Agathon, ‘you must forgive Socrates if he looks like a sheep while I am speaking shamefully of him, as I intend to do. But the truth is that his lectures were much less successful than were those of his wife Xantippe. There were, it is true, many Americans who had heard of Socrates, whose name is painted up on the walls of many of their libraries, and these came to look at him. But he is not a great spectacle to behold, and when he spoke they found he was not interested in any of the things which they desired to know, such as the art of succeeding in the world and the other things which the sophists profess to teach. Whereas Xantippe spoke to the women, praising women and declaring them to be the moral leaders of the community, and demanding for them the chief voice in ordering the affairs of the city.’ ‘Go on to the end, my good Agathon,’ said I, ‘for I know you will not be able to sleep unless you also tell them how I came to see the Middle West.’