137. _Socr._ He therefore, who thinks to leave an art in writing, and again, he who receives it, as if something clear and solid would result from the writing, must be full of simplicity, and in reality ignorant of the prophecy of Ammon, since he thinks that written words are of further value than to remind one who already knows the subject of which the writings treat. _Phæ._ Most correct. _Socr._ For writing, indeed, Phædrus, has this inconvenience, and truly resembles painting. For its productions stand out as if they were alive, but, if you ask them any question, they observe a solemn silence. And so it is with written discourses; you would think that they spoke as though they possessed some wisdom, but if you ask them about any thing they say, from a desire to understand it, they give only one and the self-same answer. And when it is once written, every discourse is tossed about every where, equally among those who understand it, and among those whom it in no wise concerns, and it knows not to whom it ought to speak, and to whom not. And when it is ill-treated and unjustly reviled, it always needs its father to help it; for, of itself, it can neither defend nor help itself. 138. _Phæ._ This, too, you have said most correctly. _Socr._ But what? shall we consider another discourse, this one’s legitimate brother, in what manner it is produced, and how far better and more powerful it naturally is than this? _Phæ._ What is that, and how do you say it is produced? _Socr._ That which is written with science in the learner’s soul, which is able to defend itself, and knows before whom it ought to speak and be silent. _Phæ._ You mean the discourse of a man endued with knowledge that has life and soul, of which the written may be justly called an image. _Socr._ Assuredly. But tell me this. Would an intelligent husbandman, who has seeds that he cares for and which he wishes to be fruitful, seriously sow them in summer-time in the gardens of Adonis, and rejoice at seeing them growing up beautifully within eight days, or would he do this, if he did it at all, for the sake of sport or pastime; but the seed which he treats seriously, availing himself of the husbandman’s skill and sowing it in its proper soil, would he be content that what he has sown shall come to maturity in the eighth month? 139. _Phæ._ Just so, Socrates, he would do the one seriously, and the other, as you say, for amusement. _Socr._ But shall we say that he who possesses a knowledge of what is just, beautiful and good, shews less intelligence than a husbandman in the management of his own seeds? _Phæ._ By no means. _Socr._ He will not, then, seriously write them in water, sowing them with ink by means of a pen, with words that are unable to defend themselves by speech, and unable adequately to teach the truth. _Phæ._ In all probability he will not.