Jowett: wise

  

[138d] Socrates   : And there are some men whom you regard as unwise, and others as wise ? ALCIBIADES II  

Socrates : Come then, let us consider who these people are. We have admitted that some are unwise, some wise, and others mad. ALCIBIADES II  

Socrates : Tell me, do you think it is only possible to be either wise or unwise, or is there some third condition between these, which makes [139b] a man neither wise nor unwise ? ALCIBIADES II

Socrates : And further, that there is no third condition between these, which makes a man neither wise nor unwise ? ALCIBIADES II

Socrates : So we shall be right, Alcibiades, in saying that all unwise persons are mad ; for example, such of your contemporaries as happen to be unwise — some such there are — and of your elders, even : for tell me, in Heaven’s name, do you not think that in our city the wise people are but few, whereas the majority are unwise, and these you call mad ? ALCIBIADES II

Socrates : Then let us turn at this point and retrace our steps. For we said, you know, at the beginning that we must consider who the unwise can be, and who the wise : for we had admitted that there are such persons, had we not ? ALCIBIADES II

[140e] Socrates : Then you conceive those to be wise who know what one ought to do and say ? ALCIBIADES II

Socrates : Why, surely you call men either wise or unwise ? ALCIBIADES II

Socrates : And the many unwise, and the few wise ? ALCIBIADES II

[145b] Socrates : Then do you call a man wise who knows how to give advice, without knowing whether and when it is better to act upon it ? ALCIBIADES II

Socrates : And we shall call him wise, and a competent adviser both of the city and of his own self ; but a man not so qualified we shall call the opposite of these. How do you think ? ALCIBIADES II

Socrates : Then do you think it inevitable that he who has some knowledge about these things should also be a wise man, [145e] or shall we say he comes far short of it ? ALCIBIADES II

Socrates : And you said you called the many unwise, and the few wise ? ALCIBIADES II

So it was nothing to their purpose to sacrifice and pay tribute of gifts in vain, when they were hated by the gods. For it is not, I imagine, the way of the gods to be seduced with gifts, like a base insurer. And indeed it is but silly talk of ours, if we claim to surpass the Spartans on this score. For it would be a strange thing if the gods had regard to our gifts and sacrifices instead of our souls, and the piety and [150a] justice that may be found in any of us. Far rather at these, I believe, do they look than at those costly processions and sacrifices which are offered, it well may be, by individual and state, year in, year out, though they may have offended greatly against the gods, or as greatly against their neighbors. But the gods are not to be won by bribes, and so they despise all these things, as Ammon and the holy prophet say. Certainly it would seem that justice and wisdom are held in especial honor both by the gods and by men of intelligence ; [150b] and wise and just are they alone who know what acts and words to use towards gods and men. But I should like now to hear what may be your opinion on the subject. ALCIBIADES II

Alcibiades : Why, Socrates, it in no wise differs from yours and the god’s ; for indeed it would not be fitting for me to record my vote against the god. ALCIBIADES II

[228b] Socrates : Hush, hush ! Why, surely it would be wrong of me not to obey a good and wise person. HIPPARCHUS  

Socrates : I mean my and your fellow-citizen, Pisistratus’s son Hipparchus, of Philaidae, who was the eldest and wisest of Pisistratus’s sons, and who, among the many goodly proofs of wisdom that he showed, first brought the poems of Homer into this country of ours, and compelled the rhapsodes at the Panathenaea to recite them in relay, one man following on another, as [228c] they still do now. He dispatched a fifty-oared galley for Anacreon of Teos, and brought him into our city. Simonides of Ceos he always had about him, prevailing on him by plenteous fees and gifts. All this he did from a wish to educate the citizens, in order that he might have subjects of the highest excellence ; for he thought it not right to grudge wisdom to any, so noble and good was he. And when his people in the city had been educated and were admiring him for his wisdom, [228d] he proceeded next, with the design of educating those of the countryside, to set up figures of Hermes for them along the roads in the midst of the city and every district town ; and then, after selecting from his own wise lore, both learnt from others and discovered for himself, the things that he considered the wisest, he threw these into elegiac form and inscribed them on the figures as verses of his own and testimonies of his wisdom, so that in the first place [228e] his people should not admire those wise Delphic legends of "Know thyself" and "Nothing overmuch", and the other sayings of the sort, but should rather regard as wise the utterances of Hipparchus ; and that in the second place, through passing up and down and reading his words and acquiring a taste for his wisdom, they might resort hither from the country for the completion of their education. There are two such inscriptions of his : on the left side [229a] of each Hermes there is one in which the god says that he stands in the midst of the city or the township, while on the right side he says : HIPPARCHUS

I therefore should never dare, I am sure, to deceive you, who are my friend, or disobey the great Hipparchus, after whose death the Athenians were for three years under the despotic rule of his brother Hippias, and you might have heard anyone of the earlier period say that it was only in these years that there was despotism in Athens, and that at all other times the Athenians lived very much as in the reign of Cronos. And the subtler sort of people say [229c] that Hipparchus’s death was due, not to the cause supposed by most — the disqualification of the assassin’s sister from bearing the basket, for that is a silly motive — but because Harmodius had become the favorite of Aristogeiton and had been educated by him. Thus Aristogeiton also prided himself on educating people, and he regarded Hipparchus as a dangerous rival. And at that time, it is said, Harmodius [229d] happened to be himself in love with one of the handsome and well-born youths of the day ; they do tell his name, but I cannot remember it. Well, for a while this youth admired both Harmodius and Aristogeiton as wise men, but afterwards, when he associated with Hipparchus, he despised them, and they were so overcome with the pain of this "disqualification" that they slew Hipparchus. HIPPARCHUS

Socrates : And is the one sort more food than the other, or are they both similarly this same thing, food, and in this respect does the one differ no wise from the other, in being food, but only in the fact of the one being good and the other evil ? HIPPARCHUS

[121b] Demodocus : Let us go, then. Socrates, it would seem that all growths follow the same course, both those that grow from the earth, and the animals, including man. In regard to the plants, as you know, we who cultivate the earth find it the easiest part of our work to make all our preparations that are needed before planting, and to do the planting itself ; but when the plant begins to grow, thenceforward we have a great deal of difficult and vexatious business in tending the new growth. [121c] Such, it seems, is also the case in regard to men : I take my own concerns as evidence for judging of the rest. For indeed I have found the planting, or the procreation — whichever one ought to call it — of this son of mine the easiest thing in the world ; but his upbringing has been vexatious and a constant source of alarm, so great are my fears for him. Among the many instances that I could mention, the desire which occupies him at the moment is a thing that especially alarms me : for it is not an ill-bred desire, but a dangerous one, since here we have him, Socrates, as he says, desiring to become wise. [121d] My opinion is that some of his fellow-townsmen, about his own age, who pay visits to the city, excite him with accounts of certain discussions they have heard there ; and in his envy of these he has long been pestering me with the demand that I should take due thought for his needs, and pay fees to some sophist or other who will make him wise. Now I do not mind so much about the fees, but I believe he is running into no slight danger [122a] where he is hastening. I did for a time restrain him with good advice ; but since I am no longer able to do so, I believe my best course is to comply with his request, in order that he may not resort, perchance, behind my back to somebody who will corrupt him. So I have come now on this very business of placing this youth with one of these sophists, or purveyors of wisdom, as they are held to be. It is a happy chance, therefore, that has thrown you in our way, as I should be particularly glad, with this plan of action in my mind, to ask your advice. Come, if you have any advice to give [122b] on what you have heard from me, you not only may, but should, give it. THEAGES  

[122e] Socrates : Goodly is the name, Demodocus, and holy-sounding, that you have bestowed on your son. Tell me, then, Theages, do you say you desire to become wise, and do you require your father here to find out a school of some man who is qualified to make you wise ? THEAGES

Socrates : And which sort of man do you call wise, those who have knowledge of such and such a thing, whatever it may be, or those who have not ? THEAGES

[123b] Socrates : Well, what you said to him before was spoken, as it were, without witnesses ; but now you shall take me as a witness, and declare before me what is this wisdom that you desire. Come now ; suppose you desired the wisdom whereby men steer a ship, and I happened to put this further question to you : Theages, what wisdom is it that you lack, when you blame your father for refusing to place you with people who would enable you to become wise ? What answer would you have given me ? What wisdom would you name ? The steersman’s art, would you not ? THEAGES

[123c] Socrates : And if a desire to be wise in the wisdom whereby they steer chariots led you to blame your father, and I asked what wisdom this was, what would you name in reply ? The charioteer’s art, would you not ? THEAGES

[125a] Socrates : You scoundrel ! So you were desiring to govern us, all the time that you were blaming your father for not sending you to some seminary of despots ! And you, Demodocus, are you not ashamed of having known all the time what he is desiring, and though you could have sent him where you would have made him an expert in the wisdom which he desires, actually grudging it to him and refusing to send him ? But now, look here, as he has declared against you in my presence, shall you and I consult together on the question of whose school we shall send him to, and whose classes will help him to become a wise despot ? THEAGES

Despots are wise by converse with the wise. THEAGES

Now, if someone should ask Euripides : Euripides, in what [125c] are these men wise, by whose converse you say that despots are wise ? I mean, suppose he had said : "Farmers are wise by converse with the wise," and we had asked him, — Wise in what ? — what answer would he have given us ? Surely none other than, — In farming. THEAGES

Socrates : Or again, if he had said : "Piemen are wise by converse with the wise," and we had asked him, Wise in what ? — what answer would he have given us ? He would have said, — In the pie-making business, — would he not ? THEAGES

Socrates : Or again, if he had said "Wrestlers are wise by converse with the wise," and we had asked him, Wise in what ? — would he not reply, — [125d] In wrestling ? THEAGES

Despots are wise by converse with the wise, THEAGES

and we ask him, — In what do you mean that the latter are wise, Euripides ? — what will he reply ? What sort of subjects will he mention here ? THEAGES

[126b] Socrates : Then what if you chanced to desire to become wise in horsemanship ? To whom would you have had to resort before expecting to be a clever horseman ? To whom else but the horse-masters ? THEAGES

Socrates : And what if you wished to become wise in javelin-throwing ? Would you not expect to get this wisdom by having resorted to those javelin-masters who have javelins and who constantly use javelins, [126c] both other people’s and their own, in great numbers ? THEAGES

Socrates : Then pray tell me, since it is your wish to become wise in state-matters, do you expect to get your wisdom by resorting to any other persons than those statesmen, who not only have their own ability in state-matters, but have constant dealings with other cities besides their own, by their intercourse alike with Greek cities and with foreign peoples ? Or do you think to get wisdom in their business by resorting to any other persons than these particular men ? THEAGES

Socrates : Demodocus, your zeal is no wonder to me, if you suppose that I especially could be of use to him ; for I know of nothing for which a sensible man could be more zealous than for his own son’s utmost improvement. But how you came to form this opinion, that I would be better able to be of use to your son in his aim of becoming a good citizen than you would yourself, and how he came to suppose that I rather than yourself would be of use to him — this does fill me with wonder. For you, [127e] in the first place, are my elder, and further, you have held in your time many of the highest offices in Athens, and are respected by the people of Anagyrus above all your fellow-townsmen, and by the whole state as much as any man, whereas neither of you can notice anything like this about me. And moreover, if Theages here does despise the instruction of our statesmen, and is looking for some other persons who profess to be able to educate young people, we have here Prodicus of Ceos, Gorgias of Leontini, Polus of Acragas, [128a] and many more, who are so wise that they go to our cities and persuade the noblest and wealthiest of our young men — who have the choice of learning from any citizen they choose, free of charge — they persuade them to abandon that instruction and learn from them, with a deposit, besides, of a large sum of money as their fee, and to feel thankful in addition. Some of these persons might naturally have been chosen both by your son and by yourself, in preference to me ; [128b] for I have no knowledge of those fair and beatific subjects of study : I only wish that I had. But what I always say, you know, is that I am in the position of knowing practically nothing except one little subject, that of love-matters. In this subject, however, I claim to be skilled above anybody who has ever lived or is now living in the world. THEAGES

Socrates : And perhaps you are right : but I fancy we shall get a better knowledge in this way. You call some men wise ? MINOS  

Socrates : And the wise are wise by wisdom ? MINOS

Socrates : Because of something that will make both you, if you are wise, my excellent friend, and everybody else who cares to have a good reputation, beware of ever quarreling with any man of a poetic turn. For poets have great influence over opinion, according as they create it in the minds of men by either commending or vilifying. And this was the mistake that Minos made, in waging war on this city of ours, which besides all its various culture has poets of every kind, and especially those who write tragedy. [321a] Now tragedy is a thing of ancient standing here ; it did not begin, as people suppose, from Thespis or from Phrynicus, but if you will reflect, you will find it is a very ancient invention of our city. Tragedy is the most popularly delightful and soul-enthralling branch of poetry : in it, accordingly, we get Minos on the rack of verse, and thus avenge ourselves for that tribute which he compelled us to pay. This, then, was the mistake that Minos made — his quarrel with us — and hence it is that, as you said in your question, he has fallen more and more into evil repute. For that he was a good [321b] and law-abiding person, as we stated in what went before — a good apportioner — is most convincingly shown by the fact the his laws are unshaken, since they were made by one who discovered aright the truth of reality in regard to the management of a state. MINOS

Socrates : And knowing these things which they know, are they ignorant, or wise ? LESSER HIPPIAS

Socrates : Stop. Let us recall what you say. You say that the false are powerful and intelligent, and knowing and wise in those things in which they are false ? LESSER HIPPIAS

Socrates : Well, then, the false are among the powerful and the wise, according to your statement. LESSER HIPPIAS

[366b] Socrates : And when you say that the false are powerful and wise for falsehood, do you mean that they have power to utter falsehoods if they like, or that they are powerless in respect to the falsehoods which they utter ? LESSER HIPPIAS

Socrates : In short, then, the false are those who are wise and powerful in uttering falsehoods. LESSER HIPPIAS

[366e] Socrates : But what of falsehoods about these same things ? And please answer this with the same splendid frankness as my previous questions, Hippias. If some one were to ask you how much three times seven hundred is, would you have the most power to tell falsehoods and always uniformly to say false things about these matters, if you wished to tell falsehoods and never to reply truly ; [367a] or would he who is ignorant of calculations have more power to tell falsehoods than you, if you wished to do so ? Or would the ignorant man often, when he wished to tell falsehoods, involuntarily tell the truth, if it so happened, because he did not know, whereas you, the wise man, if you wished to tell falsehoods, would tell them always and uniformly ? LESSER HIPPIAS

Socrates : You see, then, that the same man is both false and true in respect to these matters, and the true is in no wise better than the false ? For he is indeed the same man, and the two are not utter opposites, [367d] as you thought just now. LESSER HIPPIAS

Socrates : The good and wise geometrician, then, has the most power in both respects, has he not ? And if anyone is false in respect to diagrams, it would be this man, the good geometrician ? For he has the power, and the bad one was powerless, to speak falsehood ; so that he who has no power to speak falsehood would not become false, as has been agreed. LESSER HIPPIAS

[369d] Socrates : Hippias, I do not doubt that you are wiser than I ; but it is always my custom to pay attention when anyone is speaking, especially when the speaker seems to me to be wise ; and because I desire to learn what he means, I question him thoroughly and examine and compare the things he says, in order that I may learn. But if the speaker seems to me to be worthless, I neither ask questions nor care what he says. And by this you will recognize whom I regard as wise ; for you will find me persistently asking such a man questions about what he says, [369e] in order that I may profit by learning something. And so now I noticed when you were speaking, that in the lines which you repeated just now to show that Achilles speaks to Odysseus as to a deceiver, it seems to me very strange, if what you say is true, [370a] that Odysseus the wily is nowhere found to have spoken falsely, but Achilles is found to be a wily sort of person, according to your argument ; at any rate, he speaks falsely. For he begins by speaking these lines which you just quoted : LESSER HIPPIAS

[371d] Now, Hippias, do you think the son of Thetis and pupil of the most wise Cheiron was so forgetful, that, although a little earlier he had reviled deceivers in the most extreme terms, he himself immediately said to Odysseus that he was going to sail away and to Ajax that he was going to stay, and was not acting by design and in the belief that Odysseus was behind the times and that he himself would get the better of him in just this matter of contrivance and falsehood ? LESSER HIPPIAS

Socrates : Do you see, Hippias, that I speak the truth [372b] when I say that I am persistent in questioning wise men ? And this is probably the only good thing about me, as I am otherwise quite worthless ; for I am all wrong about facts, and do not know the truth about them. And it is to me sufficient proof of the truth of this, that when I come into contact with one of you who are famous for wisdom, and to whose wisdom all the Greeks bear witness, I am found to know nothing ; [372c] for there is hardly a single thing about which you and I have the same opinion ; and yet what greater proof of ignorance is there than when one disagrees with a wise man ? But I have this one remarkable good quality, which is my salvation ; for I am not afraid to learn, but I inquire and ask questions and am very grateful to him who answers, and I never failed in gratitude to anyone ; for when I have learned anything I have never denied it, pretending that the information was a discovery of my own ; but I praise the wisdom of him who instructed me and proclaim what I learned from him. And so now I do not agree with what you say, [372d] but disagree very strongly ; and I know very well that this is my own fault, because I am the sort of man I am — not to give myself any greater title. For my opinion, Hippias, is the exact opposite of what you say ; I think that those who injure people and do wrong and speak falsehood and cheat and err voluntarily, not involuntarily, are better than those who do so involuntarily. Sometimes, however, the opposite of this seems to me to be the case, and I am all astray about these matters, [372e] evidently because I am ignorant ; but now at the present moment a sort of paroxysm of my disease has come upon me, and those who err in respect to anything voluntarily appear to me better than those who err involuntarily. And I lay the blame for my present condition upon our previous argument, which causes those who do any of these things involuntarily to appear to me at this moment worse than those who do them voluntarily. So please do me a favour and do not refuse to cure my soul ; for you will be doing me much more good if you cure my soul of ignorance, than if you were to cure my body of disease. [373a] Now if you choose to deliver a long speech, I tell you beforehand that you would not cure me — for I could not follow you — but if you are willing to answer me, as you did just now, you will do me a great deal of good, and I think you yourself will not be injured, either. And I might fairly call upon you also, son of Apemantus, for help ; for you stirred me up to converse with Hippias ; so now, if Hippias is unwilling to answer me, ask him in my behalf to do so. LESSER HIPPIAS

Socrates : Most excellent Hippias, I do not do these voluntarily at all — for then I should be wise and clever, according to you — but involuntarily, so forgive me ; for you say, too, that he who does evil involuntarily ought to be forgiven. LESSER HIPPIAS

Socrates : Nor I with myself, Hippias ; [376c] but that appears at the moment to be the inevitable result of our argument ; however, as I was saying all along, in respect to these matters I go astray, up and down, and never hold the same opinion ; and that I, or any other ordinary man, go astray is not surprising ; but if you wise men likewise go astray, that is a terrible thing for us also, if even when we have come to you we are not to cease from our straying. LESSER HIPPIAS

[281a] Socrates : Hippias, beautiful and wise, what a long time it is since you have put in at the port of Athens ! GREATER HIPPIAS

Socrates : That’s what it is, Hippias, to be a truly wise and perfect man ! For you are both in your private capacity able to earn much money from the young [281c] and to confer upon them still greater benefits than you receive, and in public affairs you are able to benefit your own state, as a man must who is to be not despised but held in high repute among the many. And yet, Hippias, what in the world is the reason why those men of old whose names are called great in respect to wisdom — Pittacus, and Bias, and the Milesian Thales with his followers and also the later ones, down to Anaxagoras, are all, [281d] or most of them, found to refrain from affairs of state ? GREATER HIPPIAS

Socrates : That’s a fine thing you say, Hippias, and strong testimony to your wisdom [283a] and that of the men of today and to their great superiority to the ancients. For the earlier sophists of the school of Anaxagoras must have been very ignorant to judge from what is said, according to your view ; for they say that what happened to Anaxagoras was the opposite of what happens to you ; for though much money was left him, he neglected it and lost it all so senseless was his wisdom. And they tell similar tales about others among the ancients. So this seems to me fine testimony that you adduce for the wisdom of the men of today as compared with the earlier men, [283b] and many people agree with me that the wise man must be wise for himself especially ; and the test of this is, who makes the most money. Well, so much for that. But tell me this : at which of the cities that you go to did you make the most money ? Or are we to take it that it was at Lacedaemon, where your visits have been most frequent ? GREATER HIPPIAS

Socrates : Well, that shall be done, God willing, Hippias. Now, however, give me a brief answer to a question about your discourse, for you reminded me of the beautiful just at the right moment. For recently, my most excellent friend, as I was finding fault with some things in certain speeches as ugly and praising other things as beautiful, a man threw me into confusion by questioning me very insolently somewhat after this fashion : "How, if you please, do you know, Socrates," said he, [286d] "what sort of things are beautiful and ugly ? For, come now, could you tell me what the beautiful is ?" And I, being of no account, was at a loss and could not answer him properly ; and so, as I was going away from the company, I was angry with myself and reproached myself, and threatened that the first time I met one of you wise men, I would hear and learn and practise and then go back to the man who questioned me to renew the wordy strife. So now, as I say, you have come at the right moment ; [286e] just teach me satisfactorily what the absolute beautiful is, and try in replying to speak as accurately as possible, that I may not be confuted a second time and be made ridiculous again. For you doubtless know clearly, and this would doubtless be but a small example of your wide learning. GREATER HIPPIAS

Socrates : "Then, too, by wisdom the wise are wise and by the good all things are good, are they not ?" GREATER HIPPIAS

Socrates : "And justice, wisdom, and so forth are something ; for the just, wise, and so forth would not be such by them, if they were not something." GREATER HIPPIAS

[289a] Socrates : Very well I understand, Hippias, that the proper reply to him who asks these questions is this : "Sir, you are not aware that the saying of Heracleitus is good, that ‘the most beautiful of monkeys is ugly compared with the race of man,’ and the most beautiful of pots is ugly compared with the race of maidens, as Hippias the wise man says." Is it not so, Hippias ? GREATER HIPPIAS

Hippias : Your reply, Socrates, seems to involve miracles again even greater than those of your previous reply. For consider : if we are both just, [301a] would not each of us be just also, and if each is unjust, would not both again also be unjust, or if both are healthy, each of us also ? Or if each of us were to be tired or wounded or struck or affected in any other way whatsoever, should we not both of us be affected in the same way ? Then, too, if we were to be golden or of silver or of ivory, or, if you please, noble or wise or honored or old or young or whatever else you like of all that flesh is heir to, is it not quite inevitable that each of us be that also ? GREATER HIPPIAS

Socrates : My dear Hippias, you are blessed because you know the things a man ought to practise, and have, as you say, practised them satisfactorily. But I, as it seems, am possessed by some accursed fortune, [304c] so that I am always wandering and perplexed, and, exhibiting my perplexity to you wise men, am in turn reviled by you in speech whenever I exhibit it. For you say of me, what you are now saying, that I busy myself with silly little matters of no account ; but when in turn I am convinced by you and say what you say, that it is by far the best thing to be able to produce a discourse well and beautifully and gain one’s end in a court of law or in any other assemblage, [304d] I am called everything that is bad by some other men here and especially by that man who is continually refuting me ; for he is a very near relative of mine and lives in the same house. So whenever I go home to my own house, and he hears me saying these things, he asks me if I am not ashamed that I have the face to talk about beautiful practices, when it is so plainly shown, to my confusion, that I do not even know what the beautiful itself is. "And yet how are you to know," he will say, "either who produced a discourse, [304e] or anything else whatsoever, beautifully, or not, when you are ignorant of the beautiful ? And when you are in such a condition, do you think it is better for you to be alive than dead ?" So it has come about, as I say, that I am abused and reviled by you and by him. But perhaps it is necessary to endure all this, for it is quite reasonable that I might be benefited by it. So I think, Hippias, that I have been benefited by conversation with both of you ; for I think I know the meaning of the proverb "beautiful things are difficult". GREATER HIPPIAS

Ion  . Yes, indeed, Socrates ; I very much wish that you would : for I love to hear you wise men talk. ION

Soc. O that we were wise, Ion, and that you could truly call us so ; but you rhapsodes and actors, and the poets whose verses you sing, are wise ; whereas I am a common man, who only speak the truth. For consider what a very commonplace and trivial thing is this which I have said — a thing which any man might say : that when a man has acquired a knowledge of a whole art, the enquiry into good and bad is one and the same. Let us consider this matter ; is not the art of painting a whole ? ION

Com. But have you really met, Socrates, with some wise one ? PROTAGORAS

But, surely, I said, if you give him money, and make friends with him, he will make you as wise as he is himself. PROTAGORAS

I take him to be one who knows wise things, he replied, as his name implies. PROTAGORAS

And might you not, I said, affirm this of the painter and of the carpenter also : Do not they, too, know wise things ? But suppose a person were to ask us : In what are the painters wise ? We should answer : In what relates to the making of likenesses, and similarly of other things. And if he were further to ask : What is the wisdom of the Sophist, and what is the manufacture over which he presides ? — how should we answer him ? PROTAGORAS

Surely, I said, knowledge is the food of the soul ; and we must take care, my friend, that the Sophist does not deceive us when he praises what he sells, like the dealers wholesale or retail who sell the food of the body ; for they praise indiscriminately all their goods, without knowing what are really beneficial or hurtful : neither do their customers know, with the exception of any trainer or physician who may happen to buy of them. In like manner those who carry about the wares of knowledge, and make the round of the cities, and sell or retail them to any customer who is in want of them, praise them all alike ; though I should not wonder, O my friend, if many of them were really ignorant of their effect upon the soul ; and their customers equally ignorant, unless he who buys of them happens to be a physician of the soul. If, therefore, you have understanding of what is good and evil, you may safely buy knowledge of Protagoras or of any one ; but if not, then, O my friend, pause, and do not hazard your dearest interests at a game of chance. For there is far greater peril in buying knowledge than in buying meat and drink : the one you purchase of the wholesale or retail dealer, and carry them away in other vessels, and before you receive them into the body as food, you may deposit them at home and call in any experienced friend who knows what is good to be eaten or drunken, and what not, and how much, and when ; and then the danger of purchasing them is not so great. But you cannot buy the wares of knowledge and carry them away in another vessel ; when you have paid for them you must receive them into the soul and go your way, either greatly harmed or greatly benefited ; and therefore we should deliberate and take counsel with our elders ; for we are still young — too young to determine such a matter. And now let us go, as we were intending, and hear Protagoras ; and when we have heard what he has to say, we may take counsel of others ; for not only is Protagoras at the house of Callias, but there is Hippias of Elis, and, if I am not mistaken, Prodicus of Ceos, and several other wise men. PROTAGORAS

Suppose, said Callias, that we hold a council in which you may sit and discuss. — This was agreed upon, and great delight was felt at the prospect of hearing wise men talk ; we ourselves took the chairs and benches, and arranged them by Hippias, where the other benches had been already placed. Meanwhile Callias and Alcibiades got Prodicus out of bed and brought in him and his companions. PROTAGORAS

Once upon a time there were gods only, and no mortal creatures. But when the time came that these also should be created, the gods fashioned them out of earth and fire and various mixtures of both elements in the interior of the earth ; and when they were about to bring them into the light of day, they ordered Prometheus and Epimetheus to equip them, and to distribute to them severally their proper qualities. Epimetheus said to Prometheus : "Let me distribute, and do you inspect." This was agreed, and Epimetheus made the distribution. There were some to whom he gave strength without swiftness, while he equipped the weaker with swiftness ; some he armed, and others he left unarmed ; and devised for the latter some other means of preservation, making some large, and having their size as a protection, and others small, whose nature was to fly in the air or burrow in the ground ; this was to be their way of escape. Thus did he compensate them with the view of preventing any race from becoming extinct. And when he had provided against their destruction by one another, he contrived also a means of protecting them against the seasons of heaven ; clothing them with close hair and thick skins sufficient to defend them against the winter cold and able to resist the summer heat, so that they might have a natural bed of their own when they wanted to rest ; also he furnished them with hoofs and hair and hard and callous skins under their feet. Then he gave them varieties of food-herb of the soil to some, to others fruits of trees, and to others roots, and to some again he gave other animals as food. And some he made to have few young ones, while those who were their prey were very prolific ; and in this manner the race was preserved. Thus did Epimetheus, who, not being very wise, forgot that he had distributed among the brute animals all the qualities which he had to give — and when he came to man, who was still unprovided, he was terribly perplexed. Now while he was in this perplexity, Prometheus came to inspect the distribution, and he found that the other animals were suitably furnished, but that man alone was naked and shoeless, and had neither bed nor arms of defence. The appointed hour was approaching when man in his turn was to go forth into the light of day ; and Prometheus, not knowing how he could devise his salvation, stole the mechanical arts of Hephaestus and Athene, and fire with them (they could neither have been acquired nor used without fire), and gave them to man. Thus man had the wisdom necessary to the support of life, but political wisdom he had not ; for that was in the keeping of Zeus, and the power of Prometheus did not extend to entering into the citadel of heaven, where Zeus dwelt, who moreover had terrible sentinels ; but he did enter by stealth into the common workshop of Athene and Hephaestus, in which they used to practise their favourite arts, and carried off Hephaestus’ art of working by fire, and also the art of Athene, and gave them to man. And in this way man was supplied with the means of life. But Prometheus is said to have been afterwards prosecuted for theft, owing to the blunder of Epimetheus. PROTAGORAS

There yet remains one difficulty which has been raised by you about the sons of good men. What is the reason why good men teach their sons the knowledge which is gained from teachers, and make them wise in that, but do nothing towards improving them in the virtues which distinguish themselves ? And here, Socrates, I will leave the apologue and resume the argument. Please to consider : Is there or is there not some one quality of which all the citizens must be partakers, if there is to be a city at all ? In the answer to this question is contained the only solution of your difficulty ; there is no other. For if there be any such quality, and this quality or unity is not the art of the carpenter, or the smith, or the potter, but justice and temperance and holiness and, in a word, manly virtue — if this is the quality of which all men must be partakers, and which is the very condition of their learning or doing anything else, and if he who is wanting in this, whether he be a child only or a grown-up man or woman, must be taught and punished, until by punishment he becomes better, and he who rebels against instruction and punishment is either exiled or condemned to death under the idea that he is incurable — if what I am saying be true, good men have their sons taught other things and not this, do consider how extraordinary their conduct would appear to be. For we have shown that they think virtue capable of being taught and cultivated both in private and public ; and, notwithstanding, they have their sons taught lesser matters, ignorance of which does not involve the punishment of death : but greater things, of which the ignorance may cause death and exile to those who have no training or knowledge of them — aye, and confiscation as well as death, and, in a word, may be the ruin of families — those things, I say, they are supposed not to teach them — not to take the utmost care that they should learn. How improbable is this, Socrates ! PROTAGORAS

By no means, he said ; for many a man is brave and not just, or just and not wise. PROTAGORAS

Prodicus added : That, Critias  , seems to me to be well said, for those who are present at such discussions ought to be impartial hearers of both the speakers ; remembering, however, that impartiality is not the same as equality, for both sides should be impartially heard, and yet an equal meed should not be assigned to both of them ; but to the wiser a higher meed should be given, and a lower to the less wise. And I as well as Critias would beg you, Protagoras and Socrates, to grant our request, which is, that you will argue with one another and not wrangle ; for friends argue with friends out of goodwill, but only adversaries and enemies wrangle. And then our meeting will be delightful ; for in this way you, who are the speakers, will be most likely to win esteem, and not praise only, among us who are your audience ; for esteem is a sincere conviction of the hearers’ souls, but praise is often an insincere expression of men uttering falsehoods contrary to their conviction. And thus we who are the hearers will be gratified and not pleased ; for gratification is of the mind when receiving wisdom and knowledge, but pleasure is of the body when eating or experiencing some other bodily delight. Thus spoke Prodicus, and many of the company applauded his words. PROTAGORAS

And does not the poet proceed to say, "I do not agree with the word of Pittacus, albeit the utterance of a wise man : Hardly can a man be good" ? Now you will observe that this is said by the same poet. PROTAGORAS

Well, I said, and how fortunate are we in having Prodicus among us, at the right moment ; for he has a wisdom, Protagoras, which, as I imagine, is more than human and of very ancient date, and may be as old as Simonides or even older. Learned as you are in many things, you appear to know nothing of this ; but I know, for I am a disciple of his. And now, if I am not mistaken, you do not understand the word "hard" (chalepon) in the sense which Simonides intended ; and I must correct you, as Prodicus corrects me when I use the word "awful" (deinon) as a term of praise. If I say that Protagoras or any one else is an "awfully" wise man, he asks me if I am not ashamed of calling that which is good "awful" ; and then he explains to me that the term "awful" is always taken in a bad sense, and that no one speaks of being "awfully" healthy or wealthy, or "awful" peace, but of "awful" disease, "awful" war, "awful" poverty, meaning by the term "awful," evil. And I think that Simonides and his countrymen the Ceans, when they spoke of "hard" meant "evil," or something which you do not understand. Let us ask Prodicus, for he ought to be able to answer questions about the dialect of Simonides. What did he mean, Prodicus, by the term "hard ?" PROTAGORAS

Then now, I said, I will endeavour to explain to you my opinion about this poem of Simonides. There is a very ancient philosophy which is more cultivated in Crete and Lacedaemon than in any other part of Hellas, and there are more philosophers in those countries than anywhere else in the world. This, however, is a secret which the Lacedaemonians deny ; and they pretend to be ignorant, just because they do not wish to have it thought that they rule the world by wisdom, like the Sophists of whom Protagoras was speaking, and not by valour of arms ; considering that if the reason of their superiority were disclosed, all men would be practising their wisdom. And this secret of theirs has never been discovered by the imitators of Lacedaemonian fashions in other cities, who go about with their ears bruised in imitation of them, and have the caestus bound on their arms, and are always in training, and wear short cloaks ; for they imagine that these are the practices which have enabled the Lacedaemonians to conquer the other Hellenes. Now when the Lacedaemonians want to unbend and hold free conversation with their wise men, and are no longer satisfied with mere secret intercourse, they drive out all these laconizers, and any other foreigners who may happen to be in their country, and they hold a philosophical seance unknown to strangers ; and they themselves forbid their young men to go out into other cities — in this they are like the Cretans — in order that they may not unlearn the lessons which they have taught them. And in Lacedaemon and Crete not only men but also women have a pride in their high cultivation. And hereby you may know that I am right in attributing to the Lacedaemonians this excellence in philosophy and speculation : If a man converses with the most ordinary Lacedaemonian, he will find him seldom good for much in general conversation, but at any point in the discourse he will be darting out some notable saying, terse and full of meaning, with unerring aim ; and the person with whom he is talking seems to be like a child in his hands. And many of our own age and of former ages have noted that the true Lacedaemonian type of character has the love of philosophy even stronger than the love of gymnastics ; they are conscious that only a perfectly educated man is capable of uttering such expressions. Such were Thales of Miletus, and Pittacus of Mitylene, and Bias of Priene, and our own Solon, and Cleobulus the Lindian, and Myson the Chenian ; and seventh in the catalogue of wise men was the Lacedaemonian Chilo. All these were lovers   and emulators and disciples of the culture of the Lacedaemonians, and any one may perceive that their wisdom was of this character ; consisting of short memorable sentences, which they severally uttered. And they met together and dedicated in the temple of Apollo at Delphi, as the first-fruits of their wisdom, the far-famed inscriptions, which are in all men’s mouths — "Know thyself," and "Nothing too much." PROTAGORAS

Why do I say all this ? I am explaining that this Lacedaemonian brevity was the style of primitive philosophy. Now there was a saying of Pittacus which was privately circulated and received the approbation of the wise, "Hard is it to be good." And Simonides, who was ambitious of the fame of wisdom, was aware that if he could overthrow this saying, then, as if he had won a victory over some famous athlete, he would carry off the palm among his contemporaries. And if I am not mistaken, he composed the entire poem with the secret intention of damaging Pittacus and his saying. PROTAGORAS

But him who does no evil, voluntarily I praise and love ; — not even the gods war against necessity. All this has a similar drift, for Simonides was not so ignorant as to say that he praised those who did no evil voluntarily, as though there were some who did evil voluntarily. For no wise man, as I believe, will allow that any human being errs voluntarily, or voluntarily does evil and dishonourable actions ; but they are very well aware that all who do evil and dishonourable things do them against their will. And Simonides never says that he praises him who does no evil voluntarily ; the word "voluntarily" applies to himself. For he was under the impression that a good man might often compel himself to love and praise another, and to be the friend and approver of another ; and that there might be an involuntary love, such as a man might feel to an unnatural father or mother, or country, or the like. Now bad men, when their parents or country have any defects, look on them with malignant joy, and find fault with them and expose and denounce them to others, under the idea that the rest of mankind will be less likely to take themselves to task and accuse them of neglect ; and they blame their defects far more than they deserve, in order that the odium which is necessarily incurred by them may be increased : but the good man dissembles his feelings, and constrains himself to praise them ; and if they have wronged him and he is angry, he pacifies his anger and is reconciled, and compels himself to love and praise his own flesh and blood. And Simonides, as is probable, considered that he himself had often had to praise and magnify a tyrant or the like, much against his will, and he also wishes to imply to Pittacus that he does not censure him because he is censorious. PROTAGORAS

And first, I have to reply to the older charges and to my first accusers, and then I will go to the later ones. For I have had many accusers, who accused me of old, and their false charges have continued during many years ; and I am more afraid of them than of Anytus and his associates, who are dangerous, too, in their own way. But far more dangerous are these, who began when you were children, and took possession of your minds with their falsehoods, telling of one Socrates, a wise man, who speculated about the heaven above, and searched into the earth beneath, and made the worse appear the better cause. These are the accusers whom I dread ; for they are the circulators of this rumor, and their hearers are too apt to fancy that speculators of this sort do not believe in the gods. And they are many, and their charges against me are of ancient date, and they made them in days when you were impressible — in childhood, or perhaps in youth — and the cause when heard went by default, for there was none to answer. And, hardest of all, their names I do not know and cannot tell ; unless in the chance of a comic poet. But the main body of these slanderers who from envy and malice have wrought upon you — and there are some of them who are convinced themselves, and impart their convictions to others — all these, I say, are most difficult to deal with ; for I cannot have them up here, and examine them, and therefore I must simply fight with shadows in my own defence, and examine when there is no one who answers. I will ask you then to assume with me, as I was saying, that my opponents are of two kinds — one recent, the other ancient ; and I hope that you will see the propriety of my answering the latter first, for these accusations you heard long before the others, and much oftener. APOLOGY

I dare say, Athenians, that someone among you will reply, "Why is this, Socrates, and what is the origin of these accusations of you : for there must have been something strange which you have been doing ? All this great fame and talk about you would never have arisen if you had been like other men : tell us, then, why this is, as we should be sorry to judge hastily of you." Now I regard this as a fair challenge, and I will endeavor to explain to you the origin of this name of "wise," and of this evil fame. Please to attend then. And although some of you may think I am joking, I declare that I will tell you the entire truth. Men of Athens, this reputation of mine has come of a certain sort of wisdom which I possess. If you ask me what kind of wisdom, I reply, such wisdom as is attainable by man, for to that extent I am inclined to believe that I am wise ; whereas the persons of whom I was speaking have a superhuman wisdom, which I may fail to describe, because I have it not myself ; and he who says that I have, speaks falsely, and is taking away my character. And here, O men of Athens, I must beg you not to interrupt me, even if I seem to say something extravagant. For the word which I will speak is not mine. I will refer you to a witness who is worthy of credit, and will tell you about my wisdom — whether I have any, and of what sort — and that witness shall be the god of Delphi. You must have known Chaerephon ; he was early a friend of mine, and also a friend of yours, for he shared in the exile of the people, and returned with you. Well, Chaerephon, as you know, was very impetuous in all his doings, and he went to Delphi and boldly asked the oracle to tell him whether — as I was saying, I must beg you not to interrupt — he asked the oracle to tell him whether there was anyone wiser than I was, and the Pythian prophetess answered that there was no man wiser. Chaerephon is dead himself, but his brother, who is in court, will confirm the truth of this story. APOLOGY

Why do I mention this ? Because I am going to explain to you why I have such an evil name. When I heard the answer, I said to myself, What can the god mean ? and what is the interpretation of this riddle ? for I know that I have no wisdom, small or great. What can he mean when he says that I am the wisest of men ? And yet he is a god and cannot lie ; that would be against his nature. After a long consideration, I at last thought of a method of trying the question. I reflected that if I could only find a man wiser than myself, then I might go to the god with a refutation in my hand. I should say to him, "Here is a man who is wiser than I am ; but you said that I was the wisest." Accordingly I went to one who had the reputation of wisdom, and observed to him — his name I need not mention ; he was a politician whom I selected for examination — and the result was as follows : When I began to talk with him, I could not help thinking that he was not really wise, although he was thought wise by many, and wiser still by himself ; and I went and tried to explain to him that he thought himself wise, but was not really wise ; and the consequence was that he hated me, and his enmity was shared by several who were present and heard me. So I left him, saying to myself, as I went away : Well, although I do not suppose that either of us knows anything really beautiful and good, I am better off than he is — for he knows nothing, and thinks that he knows. I neither know nor think that I know. In this latter particular, then, I seem to have slightly the advantage of him. Then I went to another, who had still higher philosophical pretensions, and my conclusion was exactly the same. I made another enemy of him, and of many others besides him. APOLOGY

After this I went to one man after another, being not unconscious of the enmity which I provoked, and I lamented and feared this : but necessity was laid upon me — the word of God, I thought, ought to be considered first. And I said to myself, Go I must to all who appear to know, and find out the meaning of the oracle. And I swear to you, Athenians, by the dog I swear ! — for I must tell you the truth — the result of my mission was just this : I found that the men most in repute were all but the most foolish ; and that some inferior men were really wiser and better. I will tell you the tale of my wanderings and of the "Herculean" labors, as I may call them, which I endured only to find at last the oracle irrefutable. When I left the politicians, I went to the poets ; tragic, dithyrambic, and all sorts. And there, I said to myself, you will be detected ; now you will find out that you are more ignorant than they are. Accordingly, I took them some of the most elaborate passages in their own writings, and asked what was the meaning of them — thinking that they would teach me something. Will you believe me ? I am almost ashamed to speak of this, but still I must say that there is hardly a person present who would not have talked better about their poetry than they did themselves. That showed me in an instant that not by wisdom do poets write poetry, but by a sort of genius and inspiration ; they are like diviners or soothsayers who also say many fine things, but do not understand the meaning of them. And the poets appeared to me to be much in the same case ; and I further observed that upon the strength of their poetry they believed themselves to be the wisest of men in other things in which they were not wise. So I departed, conceiving myself to be superior to them for the same reason that I was superior to the politicians. APOLOGY

This investigation has led to my having many enemies of the worst and most dangerous kind, and has given occasion also to many calumnies, and I am called wise, for my hearers always imagine that I myself possess the wisdom which I find wanting in others : but the truth is, O men of Athens, that God only is wise ; and in this oracle he means to say that the wisdom of men is little or nothing ; he is not speaking of Socrates, he is only using my name as an illustration, as if he said, He, O men, is the wisest, who, like Socrates, knows that his wisdom is in truth worth nothing. And so I go my way, obedient to the god, and make inquisition into the wisdom of anyone, whether citizen or stranger, who appears to be wise ; and if he is not wise, then in vindication of the oracle I show him that he is not wise ; and this occupation quite absorbs me, and I have no time to give either to any public matter of interest or to any concern of my own, but I am in utter poverty by reason of my devotion to the god. APOLOGY

You are a liar, Meletus, not believed even by yourself. For I cannot help thinking, O men of Athens, that Meletus is reckless and impudent, and that he has written this indictment in a spirit of mere wantonness and youthful bravado. Has he not compounded a riddle, thinking to try me ? He said to himself : — I shall see whether this wise Socrates will discover my ingenious contradiction, or whether I shall be able to deceive him and the rest of them. For he certainly does appear to me to contradict himself in the indictment as much as if he said that Socrates is guilty of not believing in the gods, and yet of believing in them — but this surely is a piece of fun. APOLOGY

Strange, indeed, would be my conduct, O men of Athens, if I who, when I was ordered by the generals whom you chose to command me at Potidaea and Amphipolis and Delium, remained where they placed me, like any other man, facing death ; if, I say, now, when, as I conceive and imagine, God orders me to fulfil the philosopher’s mission of searching into myself and other men, I were to desert my post through fear of death, or any other fear ; that would indeed be strange, and I might justly be arraigned in court for denying the existence of the gods, if I disobeyed the oracle because I was afraid of death : then I should be fancying that I was wise when I was not wise. For this fear of death is indeed the pretence of wisdom, and not real wisdom, being the appearance of knowing the unknown ; since no one knows whether death, which they in their fear apprehend to be the greatest evil, may not be the greatest good. Is there not here conceit of knowledge, which is a disgraceful sort of ignorance ? And this is the point in which, as I think, I am superior to men in general, and in which I might perhaps fancy myself wiser than other men, — that whereas I know but little of the world below, I do not suppose that I know : but I do know that injustice and disobedience to a better, whether God or man, is evil and dishonorable, and I will never fear or avoid a possible good rather than a certain evil. And therefore if you let me go now, and reject the counsels of Anytus, who said that if I were not put to death I ought not to have been prosecuted, and that if I escape now, your sons will all be utterly ruined by listening to my words — if you say to me, Socrates, this time we will not mind Anytus, and will let you off, but upon one condition, that are to inquire and speculate in this way any more, and that if you are caught doing this again you shall die ; — if this was the condition on which you let me go, I should reply : Men of Athens, I honor and love you ; but I shall obey God rather than you, and while I have life and strength I shall never cease from the practice and teaching of philosophy, exhorting anyone whom I meet after my manner, and convincing him, saying : O my friend, why do you who are a citizen of the great and mighty and wise city of Athens, care so much about laying up the greatest amount of money and honor and reputation, and so little about wisdom and truth and the greatest improvement of the soul, which you never regard or heed at all ? Are you not ashamed of this ? And if the person with whom I am arguing says : Yes, but I do care ; I do not depart or let him go at once ; I interrogate and examine and cross-examine him, and if I think that he has no virtue, but only says that he has, I reproach him with undervaluing the greater, and overvaluing the less. And this I should say to everyone whom I meet, young and old, citizen and alien, but especially to the citizens, inasmuch as they are my brethren. For this is the command of God, as I would have you know ; and I believe that to this day no greater good has ever happened in the state than my service to the God. For I do nothing but go about persuading you all, old and young alike, not to take thought for your persons and your properties, but first and chiefly to care about the greatest improvement of the soul. I tell you that virtue is not given by money, but that from virtue come money and every other good of man, public as well as private. This is my teaching, and if this is the doctrine which corrupts the youth, my influence is ruinous indeed. But if anyone says that this is not my teaching, he is speaking an untruth. Wherefore, O men of Athens, I say to you, do as Anytus bids or not as Anytus bids, and either acquit me or not ; but whatever you do, know that I shall never alter my ways, not even if I have to die many times. APOLOGY

Not much time will be gained, O Athenians, in return for the evil name which you will get from the detractors of the city, who will say that you killed Socrates, a wise man ; for they will call me wise even although I am not wise when they want to reproach you. If you had waited a little while, your desire would have been fulfilled in the course of nature. For I am far advanced in years, as you may perceive, and not far from death. I am speaking now only to those of you who have condemned me to death. And I have another thing to say to them : You think that I was convicted through deficiency of words — I mean, that if I had thought fit to leave nothing undone, nothing unsaid, I might have gained an acquittal. Not so ; the deficiency which led to my conviction was not of words — certainly not. But I had not the boldness or impudence or inclination to address you as you would have liked me to address you, weeping and wailing and lamenting, and saying and doing many things which you have been accustomed to hear from others, and which, as I say, are unworthy of me. But I thought that I ought not to do anything common or mean in the hour of danger : nor do I now repent of the manner of my defence, and I would rather die having spoken after my manner, than speak in your manner and live. For neither in war nor yet at law ought any man to use every way of escaping death. For often in battle there is no doubt that if a man will throw away his arms, and fall on his knees before his pursuers, he may escape death ; and in other dangers there are other ways of escaping death, if a man is willing to say and do anything. The difficulty, my friends, is not in avoiding death, but in avoiding unrighteousness ; for that runs faster than death. I am old and move slowly, and the slower runner has overtaken me, and my accusers are keen and quick, and the faster runner, who is unrighteousness, has overtaken them. And now I depart hence condemned by you to suffer the penalty of death, and they, too, go their ways condemned by the truth to suffer the penalty of villainy and wrong ; and I must abide by my award — let them abide by theirs. I suppose that these things may be regarded as fated, — and I think that they are well. APOLOGY

Let us reflect in another way, and we shall see that there is great reason to hope that death is a good, for one of two things : — either death is a state of nothingness and utter unconsciousness, or, as men say, there is a change and migration of the soul from this world to another. Now if you suppose that there is no consciousness, but a sleep like the sleep of him who is undisturbed even by the sight of dreams, death will be an unspeakable gain. For if a person were to select the night in which his sleep was undisturbed even by dreams, and were to compare with this the other days and nights of his life, and then were to tell us how many days and nights he had passed in the course of his life better and more pleasantly than this one, I think that any man, I will not say a private man, but even the great king, will not find many such days or nights, when compared with the others. Now if death is like this, I say that to die is gain ; for eternity is then only a single night. But if death is the journey to another place, and there, as men say, all the dead are, what good, O my friends and judges, can be greater than this ? If indeed when the pilgrim arrives in the world below, he is delivered from the professors of justice in this world, and finds the true judges who are said to give judgment there, Minos and Rhadamanthus and Aeacus and Triptolemus, and other sons of God who were righteous in their own life, that pilgrimage will be worth making. What would not a man give if he might converse with Orpheus and Musaeus and Hesiod and Homer ? Nay, if this be true, let me die again and again. I, too, shall have a wonderful interest in a place where I can converse with Palamedes, and Ajax the son of Telamon, and other heroes of old, who have suffered death through an unjust judgment ; and there will be no small pleasure, as I think, in comparing my own sufferings with theirs. Above all, I shall be able to continue my search into true and false knowledge ; as in this world, so also in that ; I shall find out who is wise, and who pretends to be wise, and is not. What would not a man give, O judges, to be able to examine the leader of the great Trojan expedition ; or Odysseus or Sisyphus  , or numberless others, men and women too ! What infinite delight would there be in conversing with them and asking them questions ! For in that world they do not put a man to death for this ; certainly not. For besides being happier in that world than in this, they will be immortal, if what is said is true. APOLOGY

Socrates is afraid that Crito   is but pressing upon him the opinions of the many : whereas, all his life long he has followed the dictates of reason only and the opinion of the one wise or skilled man. There was a time when Crito himself had allowed the propriety of this. And although someone will say "The many can kill us," that makes no difference ; but a good life, that is to say a just and honorable life, is alone to be valued. All considerations of loss of reputation or injury to his children should be dismissed : the only question is whether he would be right in attempting to escape. Crito, who is a disinterested person, not having the fear of death before his eyes, shall answer this for him. Before he was condemned they had often held discussions, in which they agreed that no man should either do evil, or return evil for evil, or betray the right. Are these principles to be altered because the circumstances of Socrates are altered ? Crito admits that they remain the same. Then is his escape consistent with the maintenance of them ? To this Crito is unable or unwilling to reply. CRITO

Whether such an incident ever really occurred as the visit of Crito and the proposal of escape is uncertain : Plato could easily have invented far more than that ; and in the selection of Crito, the aged friend, as the fittest person to make the proposal to Socrates, we seem to recognize the hand of the artist. Whether anyone who has been subjected by the laws of his country to an unjust judgment is right in attempting to escape is a thesis about which casuists might disagree. Shelley is of opinion that Socrates "did well to die," but not for the "sophistical" reasons which Plato has put into his mouth. And there would be no difficulty in arguing that Socrates should have lived and preferred to a glorious death the good which he might still be able to perform. "A skillful rhetorician would have had much to say about that" (50 C). It may be remarked, however, that Plato never intended to answer the question of casuistry, but only to exhibit the ideal of patient virtue which refuses to do the least evil in order to avoid the greatest, and to show Socrates, his master, maintaining in death the opinions which he had professed in his life. Not "the world," but the "one wise man," is still the philosopher’s paradox in his last hours. CRITO

Soc. I only wish, Crito, that they could ; for then they could also do the greatest good, and that would be well. But the truth is, that they can do neither good nor evil : they cannot make a man wise or make him foolish ; and whatever they do is the result of chance. CRITO

Soc. And the opinions of the wise are good, and the opinions of the unwise are evil ? CRITO

Alcibiades : Yes, you know, Socrates, they say he did not get his wisdom independently, but consorted with many wise men, such as Pythocleides and Anaxagoras ; and now, old as he is, he still confers with Damon for that very purpose. ALCIBIADES I

Socrates : Well, but did you ever find a man who was wise in anything and yet unable to make another man wise in the same things as himself ? For instance, the man who taught you letters was wise himself, and also made you wise, and anyone else he wished to, did he not ? ALCIBIADES I

[118d] Socrates : And you too, who learnt from him, will be able to make another man wise ? ALCIBIADES I

Socrates : Well then, can you tell me whom Pericles made wise ? One of his sons, to begin with ? ALCIBIADES I

[119a] Socrates : But tell me of any other Athenian or foreigner, slave or freeman, who is accounted to have become wiser through converse with Pericles ; as I can tell you that Pythodorus son of Isolochus, and Callias, son of Calliades, became through that of Zeno   ; each of them has paid Zeno a hundred minae, and has become both wise and distinguished. ALCIBIADES I

Socrates : Then whatever do you mean by that friendship or agreement [127d] about which we must be wise and well-advised in order that we may be good men ? For I am unable to learn either what it is, or in whom ; since it appears that the same persons sometimes have it, and sometimes not, by your account. ALCIBIADES I

Socrates : Then how shall we obtain the most certain knowledge of it ? For if we know that, it seems we shall know ourselves also. In Heaven’s name, do we fail to comprehend the wise words of the Delphic inscription, which we mentioned just now ? ALCIBIADES I

Nay, he replied, I certainly thought him a very wise man. CHARMIDES  

No more, he replied, than making or working are the same ; thus much I have learned from Hesiod, who says that "work is no disgrace." Now do you imagine that if he had meant by working and doing such things as you were describing, he would have said that there was no disgrace in them — for example, in the manufacture of shoes, or in selling pickles, or sitting for hire in a house of ill-fame ? That, Socrates, is not to be supposed : but I conceive him to have distinguished making from doing and work ; and, while admitting that the making anything might sometimes become a disgrace, when the employment was not honourable, to have thought that work was never any disgrace at all. For things nobly and usefully made he called works ; and such makings he called workings, and doings ; and he must be supposed to have called such things only man’s proper business, and what is hurtful, not his business : and in that sense Hesiod, and any other wise man, may be reasonably supposed to call him wise who does his own work. CHARMIDES

Then, as would seem, in doing good, he may act wisely or temperately, and be wise or temperate, but not know his own wisdom or temperance ? CHARMIDES

But that, Socrates, he said, is impossible ; and therefore if this is, as you imply, the necessary consequence of any of my previous admissions, I will withdraw them, rather than admit that a man can be temperate or wise who does not know himself ; and I am not ashamed to confess that I was in error. For self-knowledge would certainly be maintained by me to be the very essence of knowledge, and in this I agree with him who dedicated the inscription, "Know thyself !" at Delphi. That word, if I am not mistaken, is put there as a sort of salutation which the god addresses to those who enter the temple ; as much as to say that the ordinary salutation of "Hail !" is not right, and that the exhortation "Be temperate !" would be a far better way of saluting one another. The notion of him who dedicated the inscription was, as I believe, that the god speaks to those who enter his temple, not as men speak ; but, when a worshipper enters, the first word which he hears is "Be temperate !" This, however, like a prophet he expresses in a sort of riddle, for "Know thyself !" and "Be temperate !" are the same, as I maintain, and as the letters imply, and yet they may be easily misunderstood ; and succeeding sages who added "Never too much," or, "Give a pledge, and evil is nigh at hand," would appear to have so misunderstood them ; for they imagined that "Know thyself !" was a piece of advice which the god gave, and not his salutation of the worshippers at their first coming in ; and they dedicated their own inscription under the idea that they too would give equally useful pieces of advice. Shall I tell you, Socrates, why I say all this ? My object is to leave the previous discussion (in which I know not whether you or I are more right, but, at any rate, no clear result was attained), and to raise a new one in which I will attempt to prove, if you deny, that temperance is self-knowledge. CHARMIDES

And if you were to ask me, what is the result or effect of architecture, which is the science of building, I should say houses, and so of other arts, which all have their different results. Now I want you, Critias, to answer a similar question about temperance, or wisdom, which, according to you, is the science of itself. Admitting this view, I ask of you, what good work, worthy of the name wise, does temperance or wisdom, which is the science of itself, effect ? Answer me. CHARMIDES

Then the wise or temperate man, and he only, will know himself, and be able to examine what he knows or does not know, and to see what others know and think that they know and do really know ; and what they do not know, and fancy that they know, when they do not. No other person will be able to do this. And this is wisdom and temperance and self-knowledge — for a man to know what he knows, and what he does not know. That is your meaning ? CHARMIDES

Then wisdom or being wise appears to be not the knowledge of the things which we do or do not know, but only the knowledge that we know or do not know ? CHARMIDES

Neither will he be able to distinguish the pretender in medicine from the true physician, nor between any other true and false professor of knowledge. Let us consider the matter in this way : If the wise man or any other man wants to distinguish the true physician from the false, how will he proceed ? He will not talk to him about medicine ; and that, as we were saying, is the only thing which the physician understands. CHARMIDES

Then the wise man may indeed know that the physician has some kind of science or knowledge ; but when he wants to discover the nature of this he will ask, What is the subject-matter ? For the several sciences are distinguished not by the mere fact that they are sciences, but by the nature of their subjects. Is not that true ? CHARMIDES

No one at all, it would seem, except the physician can have this knowledge ; and therefore not the wise man ; he would have to be a physician as well as a wise man. CHARMIDES

But then what profit, Critias, I said, is there any longer in wisdom or temperance which yet remains, if this is wisdom ? If, indeed, as we were supposing at first, the wise man had been able to distinguish what he knew and did not know, and that he knew the one and did not know the other, and to recognize a similar faculty of discernment in others, there would certainly have been a great advantage in being wise ; for then we should never have made a mistake, but have passed through life the unerring guides of ourselves and of those who are under us ; and we should not have attempted to do what we did not know, but we should have found out those who knew, and have handed the business over to them and trusted in them ; nor should we have allowed those who were under us to do anything which they were not likely to do well and they would be likely to do well just that of which they had knowledge ; and the house or state which was ordered or administered under the guidance of wisdom, and everything else of which wisdom was the lord, would have been well ordered ; for truth guiding, and error having been eliminated, in all their doings, men would have done well, and would have been happy. Was not this, Critias, what we spoke of as the great advantage of wisdom to know what is known and what is unknown to us ? CHARMIDES

You see then, Critias, that I was not far wrong in fearing that I could have no sound notion about wisdom ; I was quite right in depreciating myself ; for that which is admitted to be the best of all things would never have seemed to us useless, if I had been good for anything at an enquiry. But now I have been utterly defeated, and have failed to discover what that is to which the imposer of names gave this name of temperance or wisdom. And yet many more admissions were made by us than could be fairly granted ; for we admitted that there was a science of science, although the argument said No, and protested against us ; and we admitted further, that this science knew the works of the other sciences (although this too was denied by the argument), because we wanted to show that the wise man had knowledge of what he knew and did not know ; also we nobly disregarded, and never even considered, the impossibility of a man knowing in a sort of way that which he does not know at all ; for our assumption was, that he knows that which he does not know ; than which nothing, as I think, can be more irrational. And yet, after finding us so easy and good-natured, the enquiry is still unable to discover the truth ; but mocks us to a degree, and has gone out of its way to prove the inutility of that which we admitted only by a sort of supposition and fiction to be the true definition of temperance or wisdom : which result, as far as I am concerned, is not so much to be lamented, I said. But for your sake, Charmides, I am very sorry — that you, having such beauty and such wisdom and temperance of soul, should have no profit or good in life from your wisdom and temperance. And still more am I grieved about the charm which I learned with so much pain, and to so little profit, from the Thracian, for the sake of a thing which is nothing worth. I think indeed that there is a mistake, and that I must be a bad enquirer, for wisdom or temperance I believe to be really a great good ; and happy are you, Charmides, if you certainly possess it. Wherefore examine yourself, and see whether you have this gift and can do without the charm ; for if you can, I would rather advise you to regard me simply as a fool who is never able to reason out anything ; and to rest assured that the more wise and temperate you are, the happier you will be. CHARMIDES

Soc. And you would say that a wise endurance is also good and noble ? LACHES

Soc. Then, according to you, only the wise endurance is courage ? LACHES

Soc. But as to the epithet "wise," — wise in what ? In all things small as well as great ? For example, if a man shows the quality of endurance in spending his money wisely, knowing that by spending he will acquire more in the end, do you call him courageous ? LACHES

Nic. I have often heard you say that "Every man is good in that in which he is wise, and bad in that in which he is unwise." LACHES

Nic. And therefore if the brave man is good, he is also wise. LACHES

Nic. Why, Laches, I do not call animals or any other things which have no fear of dangers, because they are ignorant of them, courageous, but only fearless and senseless. Do you imagine that I should call little children courageous, which fear no dangers because they know none ? There is a difference, to my way of thinking, between fearlessness and courage. I am of opinion that thoughtful courage is a quality possessed by very few, but that rashness and boldness, and fearlessness, which has no forethought, are very common qualities possessed by many men, many women, many children, many animals. And you, and men in general, call by the term "courageous" actions which I call rash ; — my courageous actions are wise actions. LACHES

Nic. Not so, Laches, but do not be alarmed ; for I am quite willing to say of you and also of Lamachus, and of many other Athenians, that you are courageous and therefore wise. LACHES

Most assuredly, I said, those songs are all in your own honour ; for if you win your beautiful love, your discourses and songs will be a glory, to you, and may be truly regarded as hymns of praise composed in honour of you who have conquered and won such a love ; but if he slips away from you, the more you have praised him, the more ridiculous you will look at having lost this fairest and best of blessings ; and therefore the wise lover does not praise his beloved until he has won him, because he is afraid of accidents. There is also another danger ; the fair, when any one praises or magnifies them, are filled with the spirit of pride and vain-glory. Do you not agree with me ? LYSIS  

And therefore, my boy, if you are wise, — all men will be your friends and kindred, for you will be useful and good ; but if you are not wise, neither father, nor mother, nor kindred, nor any one else, will be your friends. And in matters of which you have as yet no knowledge, can you have any conceit of knowledge ? LYSIS

And therefore we say that those who are already wise, whether Gods or men, are no longer lovers of wisdom ; nor can they be lovers of wisdom who are ignorant to the extent of being evil, for no evil or ignorant person is a lover of wisdom. There remain those who have the misfortune to be ignorant, but are not yet hardened in their ignorance, or void of understanding, and do not as yet fancy that they know what they do not know : and therefore those who are the lovers of wisdom are as yet neither good nor bad. But the bad do not love wisdom any more than the good ; for, as we have already seen, neither is unlike the friend of unlike, nor like of like. You remember that ? LYSIS

Then what is to be done ? Or rather is there anything to be done ? I can only, like the wise men who argue in courts, sum up the arguments : — If neither the beloved, nor the lover, nor the like, nor the unlike, nor the good, nor the congenial, nor any other of whom we spoke — for there were such a number of them that I cannot remember all — if none of these are friends, I know not what remains to be said. LYSIS

Soc. What is the charge ? Well, a very serious charge, which shows a good deal of character in the young man, and for which he is certainly not to be despised. He says he knows how the youth are corrupted and who are their corruptors. I fancy that he must be a wise man, and seeing that I am the reverse of a wise man, he has found me out, and is going to accuse me of corrupting his young friends. And of this our mother the state is to be the judge. Of all our political men he is the only one who seems to me to begin in the right way, with the cultivation of virtue in youth ; like a good husbandman, he makes the young shoots his first care, and clears away us who are the destroyers of them. This is only the first step ; he will afterwards attend to the elder branches ; and if he goes on as he has begun, he will be a very great public benefactor. EUTHYPHRO  

Soc. Their laughter, friend Euthyphro, is not a matter of much consequence. For a man may be thought wise ; but the Athenians, I suspect, do not much trouble themselves about him until he begins to impart his wisdom to others, and then for some reason or other, perhaps, as you say, from jealousy, they are angry. EUTHYPHRO

Callicles. The wise man, as the proverb says, is late for a fray, but not for a feast. GORGIAS

Soc. Because I am sure that if you agree with me in any of the opinions which my soul forms, I have at last found the truth indeed. For I consider that if a man is to make a complete trial of the good or evil of the soul, he ought to have three qualities — knowledge, good-will, outspokenness, which are all possessed by you. Many whom I meet are unable to make trial of me, because they are not wise as you are ; others are wise, but they will not tell me the truth, because they have not the same interest in me which you have ; and these two strangers, Gorgias and Polus, are undoubtedly wise men and my very good friends, but they are not outspoken enough, and they are too modest. Why, their modesty is so great that they are driven to contradict themselves, first one and then the other of them, in the face of a large company, on matters of the highest moment. But you have all the qualities in which these others are deficient, having received an excellent education ; to this many Athenians can testify. And are my friend. Shall I tell you why I think so ? I know that you, Callicles, and Tisander of Aphidnae, and Andron the son of Androtion, and Nausicydes of the deme of Cholarges, studied together : there were four of you, and I once heard you advising with one another as to the extent to which the pursuit of philosophy should be carried, and, as I know, you came to the conclusion that the study should not be pushed too much into detail. You were cautioning one another not to be overwise ; you were afraid that too much wisdom might unconsciously to yourselves be the ruin of you. And now when I hear you giving the same advice to me which you then gave to your most intimate friends, I have a sufficient evidence of your real goodwill to me. And of the frankness of your nature and freedom from modesty I am assured by yourself, and the assurance is confirmed by your last speech. Well then, the inference in the present case clearly is, that if you agree with me in an argument about any point, that point will have been sufficiently tested by us, and will not require to be submitted to any further test. For you could not have agreed with me, either from lack of knowledge or from superfluity of modesty, nor yet from a desire to deceive me, for you are my friend, as you tell me yourself. And therefore when you and I are agreed, the result will be the attainment of perfect truth. Now there is no nobler enquiry, Callicles, than that which you censure me for making, — What ought the character of a man to be, and what his pursuits, and how far is he to go, both in maturer years and in youth ? For be assured that if I err in my own conduct I do not err intentionally, but from ignorance. Do not then desist from advising me, now that you have begun, until I have learned clearly what this is which I am to practise, and how I may acquire it. And if you find me assenting to your words, and hereafter not doing that to which I assented, call me "dolt," and deem me unworthy of receiving further instruction. Once more, then, tell me what you and Pindar   mean by natural justice : Do you not mean that the superior should take the property of the inferior by force ; that the better should rule the worse, the noble have more than the mean ? Am I not right in my recollection ? GORGIAS

Soc. Then according to you, one wise man may often be superior to ten thousand fools, and he ought them, and they ought to be his subjects, and he ought to have more than they should. This is what I believe that you mean (and you must not suppose that I am word-catching), if you allow that the one is superior to the ten thousand ? GORGIAS

Soc. Or, if this is not your meaning, perhaps you would say that the wise and good and true husbandman should actually have a larger share of seeds, and have as much seed as possible for his own land ? GORGIAS

Cal. I have already told you. In the first place, I mean by superiors not cobblers or cooks, but wise politicians who understand the administration of a state, and who are not only wise, but also valiant and able to carry. out their designs, and not the men to faint from want of soul. GORGIAS

Cal. I have already told you that I mean those who are wise and courageous in the administration of a state — they ought to be the rulers of their states, and justice consists in their having more than their subjects. GORGIAS

Soc. And do you call the fools and cowards good men ? For you were saying just now that the courageous and the wise are the good would you not say so ? GORGIAS

Soc. Which rejoice and sorrow most — the wise or the foolish ? GORGIAS

Soc. Then are the foolish and the wise and the cowards and the brave all pleased and pained, as you were saying, in nearly equal degree ; but are the cowards more pleased and pained than the brave ? GORGIAS

Soc. But surely the wise and brave are the good, and the foolish and the cowardly are the bad ? GORGIAS

Soc. Have the wise man and the fool, the brave and the coward, joy and pain in nearly equal degrees ? or would you say that the coward has more ? GORGIAS

Soc. Help me then to draw out the conclusion which follows from our admissions ; for it is good to repeat and review what is good twice and thrice over, as they say. Both the wise man and the brave man we allow to be good ? GORGIAS

And that, Callicles, is just what you are now doing. You praise the men who feasted the citizens and satisfied their desires, and people say that they have made the city great, not seeing that the swollen And ulcerated condition of the State is to be attributed to these elder statesmen ; for they have filled the city full of harbours and docks and walls and revenues and all that, and have left no room for justice and temperance. And when the crisis of the disorder comes, the people will blame the advisers of the hour, and applaud Themistocles and Cimon and Pericles, who are the real authors of their calamities ; and if you are not careful they may assail you and my friend Alcibiades, when they are losing not only their new acquisitions, but also their original possessions ; not that you are the authors of these misfortunes of theirs, although you may perhaps be accessories to them. A great piece of work is always being made, as I see and am told, now as of old ; about our statesmen. When the State treats any of them as malefactors, I observe that there is a great uproar and indignation at the supposed wrong which is done to them ; "after all their many services to the State, that they should unjustly perish" — so the tale runs. But the cry is all a lie ; for no statesman ever could be unjustly put to death by the city of which he is the head. The case of the professed statesman is, I believe, very much like that of the professed sophist ; for the sophists, although they are wise men, are nevertheless guilty of a strange piece of folly ; professing to be teachers of virtue, they will often accuse their disciples of wronging them, and defrauding them of their pay, and showing no gratitude for their services. Yet what can be more absurd than that men who have become just and good, and whose injustice has been taken away from them, and who have had justice implanted in them by their teachers, should act unjustly by reason of the injustice which is not in them ? Can anything be more irrational, my friends, than this ? You, Callicles, compel me to be a mob-orator, because you will not answer. GORGIAS

[235d] Socrates : Why so, my good sir ? Each one of these men has speeches ready made ; and what is more, it is in no wise difficult to improvise such things. For if it were a question of eulogizing Athenians before an audience of Peloponnesians, or Peloponnesians before Athenians, there would indeed be need of a good orator to win credence and credit ; but when a man makes his effort in the presence of the very men whom he is praising, it is no difficult matter to win credit as a fine speaker. MENEXENUS  

Socrates : Nay, then, I must surely gratify ; you for indeed I would almost gratify you [236d] if you were to bid me strip and dance, now that we two are alone. Listen then. In her speech, I believe, she began by making mention of the dead men themselves in this wise : MENEXENUS

Such being the manner of their birth and of their education, the ancestors of these men framed for themselves and lived under a civic polity [238c] which it is right for us briefly to describe. For a polity is a thing which nurtures men, good men when it is noble, bad men when it is base. It is necessary, then, to demonstrate that the polity wherein our forefathers were nurtured was a noble one, such as caused goodness not only in them but also in their descendants of the present age, amongst whom we number these men who are fallen. For it is the same polity which existed then and exists now, under which polity we are living now and have been living ever since that age with hardly a break. One man calls it "democracy", another man, according to his fancy, gives it some other name ; but it is, in very truth, [238d] an "aristocracy" backed by popular approbation. Kings we always have ; but these are at one time hereditary, at another selected by vote. And while the most part of civic affairs are in the control of the populace, they hand over the posts of government and the power to those who from time to time are deemed to be the best men ; and no man is debarred by his weakness or poverty or by the obscurity of his parentage, or promoted because of the opposite qualities, as is the case in other States. On the contrary, the one principle of selection is this : the man that is deemed to be wise or good rules and governs. And the cause of this [238e] our polity lies in our equality of birth. For whereas all other States are composed of a heterogeneous collection of all sorts of people, so that their polities also are heterogeneous, tyrannies as well as oligarchies, some of them regarding one another as slaves, others as masters ; we and our people, [239a] on the contrary, being all born of one mother, claim to be neither the slaves of one another nor the masters ; rather does our natural birth-equality drive us to seek lawfully legal equality, and to yield to one another in no respect save in reputation for virtue and understanding. MENEXENUS

Those of us who have fathers or mothers must counsel them always to bear their calamity — if so be that such has befallen them — as cheerfully as possible, and not join in their lamentations ; for in sooth they will need no further cause of grief ; [247d] the present misfortune will provide grief in plenty. Rather should we mollify and assuage their sorrow by reminding them that in the greatest matters the gods have already hearkened unto their prayers. For they prayed not that their sons should become immortal, but valiant and renowned ; and these, which are the greatest of boons, they obtained. But that all things should turn out thus according to his mind, in respect of his own life, is for a mortal man no easy matter. Moreover, by bearing their calamities thus bravely they will clearly show that they are in truth the fathers of brave sons [247e] and of a like bravery themselves ; whereas if they give way they will afford grounds for suspecting either that they are no fathers of ours or that we have been falsely belauded. But neither of these should they allow ; rather should they belaud us most by their actions, showing themselves plainly to be in very truth the manly fathers of us men. That ancient saying, ‘Nothing overmuch’ is judged to be a noble saying ; and in truth it is well said. For that man is best prepared for life who makes all that concerns his welfare depend upon himself, or nearly so, [248a] instead of hanging his hopes on other men, whereby with their rise or fall his own fortunes also inevitably sway up or down : he it is that is temperate, he it is that is courageous and wise he it is that, when gaining or losing riches or children, will best exemplify the proverb ; for, because he puts his trust in himself, he will neither be seen rejoicing nor yet grieving overmuch. MENEXENUS

Men. O Socrates, I used to be told, before I knew you, that you were always doubting yourself and making others doubt ; and now you are casting your spells over me, and I am simply getting bewitched and enchanted, and am at my wits’ end. And if I may venture to make a jest upon you, you seem to me both in your appearance and in your power over others to be very like the flat torpedo fish, who torpifies those who come near him and touch him, as you have now torpified me, I think. For my soul and my tongue are really torpid, and I do not know how to answer you ; and though I have been delivered of an infinite variety of speeches about virtue before now, and to many persons — and very good ones they were, as I thought — at this moment I cannot even say what virtue is. And I think that. you are very wise in not voyaging and going away from home, for if you did in other places as do in Athens, you would be cast into prison as a magician. MENO

Soc. I will tell you why : I have heard from certain wise men and women who spoke of things divine that — MENO

Soc. And the wise soul guides them rightly, and the foolish soul wrongly. MENO

Soc. I have certainly often enquired whether there were any, and taken great pains to find them, and have never succeeded ; and many have assisted me in the search, and they were the persons whom I thought the most likely to know. Here at the moment when he is wanted we fortunately have sitting by us Anytus, the very person of whom we should make enquiry ; to him then let us repair. In the first Place, he is the son of a wealthy and wise father, Anthemion, who acquired his wealth, not by accident or gift, like Ismenias the Theban (who has recently made himself as rich as Polycrates), but by his own skill and industry, and who is a well-conditioned, modest man, not insolent, or over-bearing, or annoying ; moreover, this son of his has received a good education, as the Athenian people certainly appear to think, for they choose him to fill the highest offices. And these are the sort of men from whom you are likely to learn whether there are any teachers of virtue, and who they are. Please, Anytus, to help me and your friend Meno in answering our question : Who are the teachers ? Consider the matter thus : If we wanted Meno to be a good physician, to whom should we send him ? Should we not send him to the physicians ? MENO

Soc. But did any one, old or young, ever say in your hearing that Cleophantus, son of Themistocles, was a wise or good man, as his father was ? MENO

Soc. And therefore not by any wisdom, and not because they were wise, did Themistocles and those others of whom Anytus spoke govern states. This was the reason why they were unable to make others like themselves — because their virtue was not grounded on knowledge. MENO

Soc. In less than no time you shall hear ; for I cannot say that I did not attend — I paid great attention to them, and I remember and will endeavour to repeat the whole story. Providentially I was sitting alone in the dressing-room of the Lyceum where you saw me, and was about to depart ; when I was getting up I recognized the familiar divine sign : so I sat down again, and in a little while the two brothers Euthydemus   and Dionysodorus came in, and several others with them, whom I believe to be their disciples, and they walked about in the covered court ; they had not taken more than two or three turns when Cleinias entered, who, as you truly say, is very much improved : he was followed by a host of lovers, one of whom was Ctesippus the Paeanian, a well-bred youth, but also having the wildness of youth. Cleinias saw me from the entrance as I was sitting alone, and at once came and sat down on the right hand of me, as you describe ; and Dionysodorus and Euthydemus, when they saw him, at first stopped and talked with one another, now and then glancing at us, for I particularly watched them ; and then Euthydemus came and sat down by the youth, and the other by me on the left hand ; the rest anywhere. I saluted the brothers, whom I had not seen for a long time ; and then I said to Cleinias : Here are two wise men, Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, Cleinias, wise not in a small but in a large way of wisdom, for they know all about war, — all that a good general ought to know about the array and command of an army, and the whole art of fighting in armour : and they know about law too, and can teach a man how to use the weapons of the courts when he is injured. EUTHYDEMUS

What followed, Crito, how can I rightly narrate ? For not slight is the task of rehearsing infinite wisdom, and therefore, like the poets, I ought to commence my relation with an invocation to Memory and the Muses. Now Euthydemus, if I remember rightly, began nearly as follows : O Cleinias, are those who learn the wise or the ignorant ? EUTHYDEMUS

While he was speaking to me, Cleinias gave his answer : and therefore I had no time to warn him of the predicament in which he was placed, and he answered that those who learned were the wise. EUTHYDEMUS

And were you wise then ? EUTHYDEMUS

But if you were not wise you were unlearned ? EUTHYDEMUS

Then the unlearned learn, and not the wise, Cleinias, as you imagine. EUTHYDEMUS

At these words the followers of Euthydemus, of whom I spoke, like a chorus at the bidding of their director, laughed and cheered. Then, before the youth had time to recover his breath, Dionysodorus cleverly took him in hand, and said : Yes, Cleinias ; and when the grammar master dictated anything to you, were they the wise boys or the unlearned who learned the dictation ? EUTHYDEMUS

The wise, replied Cleinias. EUTHYDEMUS

Then after all the wise are the learners and not the unlearned ; and your last answer to Euthydemus was wrong. EUTHYDEMUS

Amid the dangers of the sea, again, are any more fortunate on the whole than wise pilots ? EUTHYDEMUS

And if you were engaged in war, in whose company would you rather take the risk — in company with a wise general, or with a foolish one ? EUTHYDEMUS

With a wise one. EUTHYDEMUS

And if you were ill, whom would you rather have as a companion in a dangerous illness — a wise physician, or an ignorant one ? EUTHYDEMUS

A wise one. EUTHYDEMUS

You think, I said, that to act with a wise man is more fortunate than to act with an ignorant one ? EUTHYDEMUS

Let us consider a further point, I said : Seeing that all men desire happiness, and happiness, as has been shown, is gained by a use, and a right use, of the things of life, and the right use of them, and good fortune in the use of them, is given by knowledge, — the inference is that everybody ought by all means to try and make himself as wise as he can ? EUTHYDEMUS

Tell me, he said, Socrates and the rest of you who say that you want this young man to become wise, are you in jest or in real earnest ? EUTHYDEMUS

Well, said he, and so you say that you wish Cleinias to become wise ? EUTHYDEMUS

And he is not wise as yet ? EUTHYDEMUS

You wish him, he said, to become wise and not, to be ignorant ? EUTHYDEMUS

I saw that they were getting exasperated with one another, so I made a joke with him and said : O Ctesippus, I think that we must allow the strangers to use language in their own way, and not quarrel with them about words, but be thankful for what they give us. If they know how to destroy men in such a way as to make good and sensible men out of bad and foolish ones — whether this is a discovery of their own, or whether they have learned from some one else this new sort of death and destruction which enables them to get rid of a bad man and turn him into a good one — if they know this (and they do know this — at any rate they said just now that this was the secret of their newly-discovered art) — let them, in their phraseology, destroy the youth and make him wise, and all of us with him. But if you young men do not like to trust yourselves with them, then fiat experimentum in corpore senis ; I will be the Carian on whom they shall operate. And here I offer my old person to Dionysodorus ; he may put me into the pot, like Medea the Colchian, kill me, boil me, if he will only make me good. EUTHYDEMUS

Why, I said, they are not easy to answer ; for they are the words of wise men : and indeed I know not what to make of this word "nonplussed," which you used last : what do you mean by it, Dionysodorus ? You must mean that I cannot refute your argument. Tell me if the words have any other sense. EUTHYDEMUS

Upon what principle ? I said. I can only suppose that you are a very wise man who comes to us in the character of a great logician, and who knows when to answer and when not to answer — and now you will not open your mouth at all, because you know that you ought not. EUTHYDEMUS

You prate, he said, instead of answering. But if, my good sir, you admit that I am wise, answer as I tell you. EUTHYDEMUS

Why, because I was stupid and made a mistake. And yet, perhaps, I was right after all in saying that words have a sense ; — what do you say, wise man ? If I was not in error, even you will not refute me, and all your wisdom will be non-plussed ; but if I did fall into error, then again you are wrong in saying that there is no error, — and this remark was made by you not quite a year ago. I am inclined to think, however, Dionysodorus and Euthydemus, that this argument lies where it was and is not very likely to advance : even your skill in the subtleties of logic, which is really amazing, has not found out the way of throwing another and not falling yourself, now any more than of old. EUTHYDEMUS

Soc. All the other results of politics, and they are many, as for example, wealth, freedom, tranquillity, were neither good nor evil in themselves ; but the political science ought to make us wise, and impart knowledge to us, if that is the science which is likely to do us good, and make us happy. EUTHYDEMUS

Soc. And does the kingly art make men wise and good ? EUTHYDEMUS

Yes, I said, and I might well be incredulous, if I did not know you to be wise men. EUTHYDEMUS

Well, I said, there is nothing that I should like better than to be self-convicted of this, for if I am really a wise man, which I never knew before, and you will prove to me that I know and have always known all things, nothing in life would be a greater gain to me. EUTHYDEMUS

I should have far more reason to beat yours, said Ctesippus ; what could he have been thinking of when he begat such wise sons ? much good has this father of you and your brethren the puppies got out of this wisdom of yours. EUTHYDEMUS

Then, my dear Crito, there was universal applause of the speakers and their words, and what with laughing and clapping of hands and rejoicings the two men were quite overpowered ; for hitherto their partisans only had cheered at each successive hit, but now the whole company shouted with delight until the columns of the Lyceum returned the sound, seeming to sympathize in their joy. To such a pitch was I affected myself, that I made a speech, in which I acknowledged that I had never seen the like of their wisdom ; I was their devoted servant, and fell to praising and admiring of them. What marvellous dexterity of wit, I said, enabled you to acquire this great perfection in such a short time ? There is much, indeed, to admire in your words, Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, but there is nothing that I admire more than your magnanimous disregard of any opinion — whether of the many, or of the grave and reverend seigniors — you regard only those who are like yourselves. And I do verily believe that there are few who are like you, and who would approve of such arguments ; the majority of mankind are so ignorant of their value, that they would be more ashamed of employing them in the refutation of others than of being refuted by them. I must further express my approval of your kind and public-spirited denial of all differences, whether of good and evil, white or black, or any other ; the result of which is that, as you say, every mouth is sewn up, not excepting your own, which graciously follows the example of others ; and thus all ground of offence is taken away. But what appears to me to be more than all is, that this art and invention of yours has been so admirably contrived by you, that in a very short time it can be imparted to any one. I observed that Ctesippus learned to imitate you in no time. Now this quickness of attainment is an excellent thing ; but at the same time I would advise you not to have any more public entertainments ; there is a danger that men may undervalue an art which they have so easy an opportunity of acquiring ; the exhibition would be best of all, if the discussion were confined to your two selves ; but if there must be an audience, let him only be present who is willing to pay a handsome fee ; — you should be careful of this ; — and if you are wise, you will also bid your disciples discourse with no man but you and themselves. For only what is rare is valuable ; and "water," which, as Pindar says, is the "best of all things," is also the cheapest. And now I have only to request that you will receive Cleinias and me among your pupils. EUTHYDEMUS

Cri. Truly, Socrates, though I am curious and ready to learn, yet I fear that I am not like minded with Euthydemus, but one of the other sort, who, as you were saying, would rather be refuted by such arguments than use them in refutation of others. And though I may appear ridiculous in venturing to advise you, I think that you may as well hear what was said to me by a man of very considerable pretensions — he was a professor of legal oratory — who came away from you while I was walking up and down. "Crito," said he to me, "are you giving no attention to these wise men ?" "No, indeed," I said to him ; "I could not get within hearing of them — there was such a crowd." "You would have heard something worth hearing if you had." "What was that ?" I said. "You would have heard the greatest masters of the art of rhetoric discoursing." "And what did you think of them ?" I said. "What did I think of them ?" he said : — "theirs was the sort of discourse which anybody might hear from men who were playing the fool, and making much ado about nothing." That was the expression which he used. "Surely," I said, "philosophy is a charming thing." "Charming !" he said ; "what simplicity ! philosophy is nought ; and I think that if you had been present you would have been ashamed of your friend — his conduct was so very strange in placing himself at the mercy of men who care not what they say, and fasten upon every word. And these, as I was telling you, are supposed to be the most eminent professors of their time. But the truth is, Crito, that the study itself and the men themselves are utterly mean and ridiculous." Now censure of the pursuit, Socrates, whether coming from him or from others, appears to me to be undeserved ; but as to the impropriety of holding a public discussion with such men, there, I confess that, in my opinion, he was in the right. EUTHYDEMUS

Soc. And would you hold that the very good were the very wise, and the very evil very foolish ? Would that be your view ? CRATYLUS  

Soc. But if Protagoras is right, and the truth is that things are as they appear to any one, how can some of us be wise and some of us foolish ? CRATYLUS

Soc. How would you answer, if you were asked whether the wise or the unwise are more likely to give correct names ? CRATYLUS

Her. I should say the wise, of course. CRATYLUS

Soc. And are not the good wise ? CRATYLUS

Her. Yes, they are wise. CRATYLUS

Soc. And therefore I have the most entire conviction that he called them demons, because they were daemones (knowing or wise), and in our older Attic dialect the word itself occurs. Now he and other poets say truly, that when a good man dies he has honour and a mighty portion among the dead, and becomes a demon ; which is a name given to him signifying wisdom. And I say too, that every wise man who happens to be a good man is more than human (daimonion) both in life and death, and is rightly called a demon. CRATYLUS

Soc. I fancy to myself Heracleitus repeating wise traditions of antiquity as old as the days of Cronos and Rhea, and of which Homer also spoke. CRATYLUS

Soc. Demeter is e didousa meter, who gives food like a mother ; Here is the lovely one (erate) — for Zeus, according to tradition, loved and married her ; possibly also the name may have been given when the legislator was thinking of the heavens, and may be only a disguise of the air (aer), putting the end in the place of the beginning. You will recognize the truth of this if you repeat the letters of Here several times over. People dread the name of Pherephatta as they dread the name of Apollo — and with as little reason ; the fear, if I am not mistaken, only arises from their ignorance of the nature of names. But they go changing the name into Phersephone, and they are terrified at this ; whereas the new name means only that the Goddess is wise (sophe) ; for seeing that all things in the world are in motion (pheromenon), that principle which embraces and touches and is able to follow them, is wisdom. And therefore the Goddess may be truly called Pherepaphe (Pherepapha), or some name like it, because she touches that which is (tou pheromenon ephaptomene), herein showing her wisdom. And Hades, who is wise, consorts with her, because she is wise. They alter her name into Pherephatta now-a-days, because the present generation care for euphony more than truth. There is the other name, Apollo, which, as I was saying, is generally supposed to have some terrible signification. Have you remarked this fact ? CRATYLUS

Soc. Yes, that is true. And therefore a wise dictator, like yourself, should observe the laws of moderation and probability. CRATYLUS

Apoll. Well, the tale of love was on this wise : — But perhaps I had better begin at the beginning, and endeavour to give you the exact words of Aristodemus : SYMPOSIUM  

To the leasts of the wise unbidden goes. SYMPOSIUM

Well, if you think so, I will leave him, said Agathon. And then, turning to the servants, he added, "Let us have supper without waiting for him. Serve up whatever you please, for there is no one to give you orders ; hitherto I have never left you to yourselves. But on this occasion imagine that you art our hosts, and that I and the company are your guests ; treat us well, and then we shall commend you." After this, supper was served, but still no Socrates ; and during the meal Agathon several times expressed a wish to send for him, but Aristodemus objected ; and at last when the feast was about half over — for the fit, as usual, was not of long duration — Socrates entered ; Agathon, who was reclining alone at the end of the table, begged that he would take the place next to him ; that "I may touch you," he said, "and have the benefit of that wise thought which came into your mind in the portico, and is now in your possession ; for I am certain that you would not have come away until you had found what you sought." SYMPOSIUM

I always do what you advise, and especially what you prescribe as a physician, rejoined Phaedrus   the Myrrhinusian, and the rest of the company, if they are wise, will do the same. SYMPOSIUM

For we have a custom, and according to our custom any one who does service to another under the idea that he will be improved by him either in wisdom, or, in some other particular of virtue — such a voluntary service, I say, is not to be regarded as a dishonour, and is not open to the charge of flattery. And these two customs, one the love of youth, and the other the practice of philosophy and virtue in general, ought to meet in one, and then the beloved may honourably indulge the lover. For when the lover and beloved come together, having each of them a law, and the lover thinks that he is right in doing any service which he can to his gracious loving one ; and the other that he is right in showing any kindness which he can to him who is making him wise and good ; the one capable of communicating wisdom and virtue, the other seeking to acquire them with a view to education and wisdom, when the two laws of love are fulfilled and meet in one — then, and then only, may the beloved yield with honour to the lover. Nor when love is of this disinterested sort is there any disgrace in being deceived, but in every other case there is equal disgrace in being or not being deceived. For he who is gracious to his lover under the impression that he is rich, and is disappointed of his gains because he turns out to be poor, is disgraced all the same : for he has done his best to show that he would give himself up to any one’s "uses base" for the sake of money ; but this is not honourable. And on the same principle he who gives himself to a lover because he is a good man, and in the hope that he will be improved by his company, shows himself to be virtuous, even though the object of his affection turn out to be a villain, and to have no virtue ; and if he is deceived he has committed a noble error. For he has proved that for his part he will do anything for anybody with a view to virtue and improvement, than which there can be nothing nobler. Thus noble in every case is the acceptance of another for the sake of virtue. This is that love which is the love of the heavenly godess, and is heavenly, and of great price to individuals and cities, making the lover and the beloved alike eager in the work of their own improvement. But all other loves are the offspring of the other, who is the common goddess. To you, Phaedrus, I offer this my contribution in praise of love, which is as good as I could make extempore. SYMPOSIUM

Pausanias came to a pause — this is the balanced way in which I have been taught by the wise to speak ; and Aristodemus said that the turn of Aristophanes was next, but either he had eaten too much, or from some other cause he had the hiccough, and was obliged to change turns with Eryximachus the physician, who was reclining on the couch below him. Eryximachus, he said, you ought either to stop my hiccough, or to speak in my turn until I have left off. SYMPOSIUM

Nay, replied Socrates, I should be very wrong in attributing to you, Agathon, that or any other want of refinement. And I am quite aware that if you happened to meet with any whom you thought wise, you would care for their opinion much more than for that of the many. But then we, having been a part of the foolish many in the theatre, cannot be regarded as the select wise ; though I know that if you chanced to be in the presence, not of one of ourselves, but of some really wise man, you would be ashamed of disgracing yourself before him — would you not ? SYMPOSIUM

This is he who empties men of disaffection and fills them with affection, who makes them to meet together at banquets such as these : in sacrifices, feasts, dances, he is our lord — who sends courtesy and sends away discourtesy, who gives kindness ever and never gives unkindness ; the friend of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods ; desired by those who have no part in him, and precious to those who have the better part in him ; parent of delicacy, luxury, desire, fondness, softness, grace ; regardful of the good, regardless of the evil : in every word, work, wish, fear-saviour, pilot, comrade, helper ; glory of gods and men, leader best and brightest : in whose footsteps let every man follow, sweetly singing in his honour and joining in that sweet strain with which love charms the souls of gods and men. Such is the speech, Phaedrus, half-playful, yet having a certain measure of seriousness, which, according to my ability, I dedicate to the god. SYMPOSIUM

And now, taking my leave of you, I would rehearse a tale of love which I heard from Diotima of Mantineia, a woman wise in this and in many other kinds of knowledge, who in the days of old, when the Athenians offered sacrifice before the coming of the plague, delayed the disease ten years. She was my instructress in the art of love, and I shall repeat to you what she said to me, beginning with the admissions made by Agathon, which are nearly if not quite the same which I made to the wise woman when she questioned me — I think that this will be the easiest way, and I shall take both parts myself as well as I can. As you, Agathon, suggested, I must speak first of the being and nature of Love, and then of his works. First I said to her in nearly the same words which he used to me, that Love was a mighty god, and likewise fair and she proved to me as I proved to him that, by my own showing, Love was neither fair nor good. "What do you mean, Diotima," I said, "is love then evil and foul ?" "Hush," she cried ; "must that be foul which is not fair ?" "Certainly," I said. "And is that which is not wise, ignorant ? do you not see that there is a mean between wisdom and ignorance ?" "And what may that be ?" I said. "Right opinion," she replied ; "which, as you know, being incapable of giving a reason, is not knowledge (for how can knowledge be devoid of reason ? nor again, ignorance, for neither can ignorance attain the truth), but is clearly something which is a mean between ignorance and wisdom." "Quite true," I replied. "Do not then insist," she said, "that what is not fair is of necessity foul, or what is not good evil ; or infer that because love is not fair and good he is therefore foul and evil ; for he is in a mean between them." "Well," I said, "Love is surely admitted by all to be a great god." "By those who know or by those who do not know ?" "By all." "And how, Socrates," she said with a smile, "can Love be acknowledged to be a great god by those who say that he is not a god at all ?" "And who are they ?" I said. "You and I are two of them," she replied. "How can that be ?" I said. "It is quite intelligible," she replied ; "for you yourself would acknowledge that the gods are happy and fair of course you would — would to say that any god was not ?" "Certainly not," I replied. "And you mean by the happy, those who are the possessors of things good or fair ?" "Yes." "And you admitted that Love, because he was in want, desires those good and fair things of which he is in want ?" "Yes, I did." "But how can he be a god who has no portion in what is either good or fair ?" "Impossible." "Then you see that you also deny the divinity of Love." SYMPOSIUM

"What then is Love ?" I asked ; "Is he mortal ?" "No." "What then ?" "As in the former instance, he is neither mortal nor immortal, but in a mean between the two." "What is he, Diotima ?" "He is a great spirit (daimon), and like all spirits he is intermediate between the divine and the mortal." "And what," I said, "is his power ?" "He interprets," she replied, "between gods and men, conveying and taking across to the gods the prayers and sacrifices of men, and to men the commands and replies of the gods ; he is the mediator who spans the chasm which divides them, and therefore in him all is bound together, and through him the arts of the prophet and the priest, their sacrifices and mysteries and charms, and all, prophecy and incantation, find their way. For God mingles not with man ; but through Love. all the intercourse, and converse of god with man, whether awake or asleep, is carried on. The wisdom which understands this is spiritual ; all other wisdom, such as that of arts and handicrafts, is mean and vulgar. Now these spirits or intermediate powers are many and diverse, and one of them is Love. "And who," I said, "was his father, and who his mother ?" "The tale," she said, "will take time ; nevertheless I will tell you. On the birthday of Aphrodite there was a feast of the gods, at which the god Poros or Plenty, who is the son of Metis or Discretion, was one of the guests. When the feast was over, Penia or Poverty, as the manner is on such occasions, came about the doors to beg. Now Plenty who was the worse for nectar (there was no wine in those days), went into the garden of Zeus and fell into a heavy sleep, and Poverty considering her own straitened circumstances, plotted to have a child by him, and accordingly she lay down at his side and conceived love, who partly because he is naturally a lover of the beautiful, and because Aphrodite is herself beautiful, and also because he was born on her birthday, is her follower and attendant. And as his parentage is, so also are his fortunes. In the first place he is always poor, and anything but tender and fair, as the many imagine him ; and he is rough and squalid, and has no shoes, nor a house to dwell in ; on the bare earth exposed he lies under the open heaven, in the streets, or at the doors of houses, taking his rest ; and like his mother he is always in distress. Like his father too, whom he also partly resembles, he is always plotting against the fair and good ; he is bold, enterprising, strong, a mighty hunter, always weaving some intrigue or other, keen in the pursuit of wisdom, fertile in resources ; a philosopher at all times, terrible as an enchanter, sorcerer, sophist. He is by nature neither mortal nor immortal, but alive and flourishing at one moment when he is in plenty, and dead at another moment, and again alive by reason of his father’s nature. But that which is always flowing in is always flowing out, and so he is never in want and never in wealth ; and, further, he is in a mean between ignorance and knowledge. The truth of the matter is this : No god is a philosopher. or seeker after wisdom, for he is wise already ; nor does any man who is wise seek after wisdom. Neither do the ignorant seek after Wisdom. For herein is the evil of ignorance, that he who is neither good nor wise is nevertheless satisfied with himself : he has no desire for that of which he feels no want." "But — who then, Diotima," I said, "are the lovers of wisdom, if they are neither the wise nor the foolish ?" "A child may answer that question," she replied ; "they are those who are in a mean between the two ; Love is one of them. For wisdom is a most beautiful thing, and Love is of the beautiful ; and therefore Love is also a philosopher : or lover of wisdom, and being a lover of wisdom is in a mean between the wise and the ignorant. And of this too his birth is the cause ; for his father is wealthy and wise, and his mother poor and foolish. Such, my dear Socrates, is the nature of the spirit Love. The error in your conception of him was very natural, and as I imagine from what you say, has arisen out of a confusion of love and the beloved, which made you think that love was all beautiful. For the beloved is the truly beautiful, and delicate, and perfect, and blessed ; but the principle of love is of another nature, and is such as I have described." SYMPOSIUM

I was astonished at her words, and said : "Is this really true, O thou wise Diotima ?" And she answered with all the authority of an accomplished sophist : "Of that, Socrates, you may be assured ; — think only of the ambition of men, and you will wonder at the senselessness of their ways, unless you consider how they are stirred by the love of an immortality of fame. They are ready to run all risks greater far than they would have for their children, and to spend money and undergo any sort of toil, and even to die, for the sake of leaving behind them a name which shall be eternal. Do you imagine that Alcestis would have died to save Admetus, or Achilles to avenge Patroclus, or your own Codrus in order to preserve the kingdom for his sons, if they had not imagined that the memory of their virtues, which still survives among us, would be immortal ? Nay," she said, "I am persuaded that all men do all things, and the better they are the more they do them, in hope of the glorious fame of immortal virtue ; for they desire the immortal. SYMPOSIUM

Alcibiades replied : Hail, worthy son of a most wise and worthy sire ! SYMPOSIUM

The wise physician skilled our wounds to heal shall prescribe and we will obey. What do you want ? SYMPOSIUM

When the lamp was put out and the servants had gone away, I thought that I must be plain with him and have no more ambiguity. So I gave him a shake, and I said : "Socrates, are you asleep ?" "No," he said. "Do you know what I am meditating ? "What are you meditating ?" he said. "I think," I replied, "that of all the lovers whom I have ever had you are the only one who is worthy of me, and you appear to be too modest to speak. Now I feel that I should be a fool to refuse you this or any other favour, and therefore I come to lay at your feet all that I have and all that my friends have, in the hope that you will assist me in the way of virtue, which I desire above all things, and in which I believe that you can help me better than any one else. And I should certainly have more reason to be ashamed of what wise men would say if I were to refuse a favour to such as you, than of what the world who are mostly fools, would say of me if I granted it." To these words he replied in the ironical manner which is so characteristic of him : "Alcibiades, my friend, you have indeed an elevated aim if what you say is true, and if there really is in me any power by which you may become better ; truly you must see in me some rare beauty of a kind infinitely higher than any which I see in you. And therefore, if you mean to share with me and to exchange beauty for beauty, you will have greatly the advantage of me ; you will gain true beauty in return for appearance — like Diomede, gold in exchange for brass. But look again, sweet friend, and see whether you are not deceived in me. The mind begins to grow critical when the bodily eye fails, and it will be a long time before you get old." Hearing this, I said : "I have told you my purpose, which is quite serious, and do you consider what you think best for you and me." "That is good," he said ; "at some other time then we will consider and act as seems best about this and about other matters." Whereupon, I fancied that was smitten, and that the words which I had uttered like arrows had wounded him, and so without waiting to hear more I got up, and throwing my coat about him crept under his threadbare cloak, as the time of year was winter, and there I lay during the whole night having this wonderful monster in my arms. This again, Socrates, will not be denied by you. And yet, notwithstanding all, he was so superior to my solicitations, so contemptuous and derisive and disdainful of my beauty — which really, as I fancied, had some attractions — hear, O judges ; for judges you shall be of the haughty virtue of Socrates — nothing more happened, but in the morning when I awoke (let all the gods and goddesses be my witnesses) I arose as from the couch of a father or an elder brother. SYMPOSIUM

Tell him, Cebes, he replied, that I had no idea of rivalling him or his poems ; which is the truth, for I knew that I could not do that. But I wanted to see whether I could purge away a scruple which I felt about certain dreams. In the course of my life I have often had intimations in dreams "that I should make music." The same dream came to me sometimes in one form, and sometimes in another, but always saying the same or nearly the same words : Make and cultivate music, said the dream. And hitherto I had imagined that this was only intended to exhort and encourage me in the study of philosophy, which has always been the pursuit of my life, and is the noblest and best of music. The dream was bidding me to do what I was already doing, in the same way that the competitor in a race is bidden by the spectators to run when he is already running. But I was not certain of this, as the dream might have meant music in the popular sense of the word, and being under sentence of death, and the festival giving me a respite, I thought that I should be safer if I satisfied the scruple, and, in obedience to the dream, composed a few verses before I departed. And first I made a hymn in honor of the god of the festival, and then considering that a poet, if he is really to be a poet or maker, should not only put words together but make stories, and as I have no invention, I took some fables of esop, which I had ready at hand and knew, and turned them into verse. Tell Evenus this, and bid him be of good cheer ; that I would have him come after me if he be a wise man, and not tarry ; and that to-day I am likely to be going, for the Athenians say that I must. PHAEDO  

Yes, Socrates, said Cebes, there is surely reason in that. And yet how can you reconcile this seemingly true belief that God is our guardian and we his possessions, with that willingness to die which we were attributing to the philosopher ? That the wisest of men should be willing to leave this service in which they are ruled by the gods who are the best of rulers is not reasonable, for surely no wise man thinks that when set at liberty he can take better care of himself than the gods take of him. A fool may perhaps think this — he may argue that he had better run away from his master, not considering that his duty is to remain to the end, and not to run away from the good, and that there is no sense in his running away. But the wise man will want to be ever with him who is better than himself. Now this, Socrates, is the reverse of what was just now said ; for upon this view the wise man should sorrow and the fool rejoice at passing out of life. PHAEDO

And in this case, added Simmias, his objection does appear to me to have some force. For what can be the meaning of a truly wise man wanting to fly away and lightly leave a master who is better than himself ? And I rather imagine that Cebes is referring to you ; he thinks that you are too ready to leave us, and too ready to leave the gods who, as you acknowledge, are our good rulers. PHAEDO

Then I must try to make a better impression upon you than I did when defending myself before the judges. For I am quite ready to acknowledge, Simmias and Cebes, that I ought to be grieved at death, if I were not persuaded that I am going to other gods who are wise and good (of this I am as certain as I can be of anything of the sort) and to men departed (though I am not so certain of this), who are better than those whom I leave behind ; and therefore I do not grieve as I might have done, for I have good hope that there is yet something remaining for the dead, and, as has been said of old, some far better thing for the good than for the evil. PHAEDO

And are we to suppose that the soul, which is invisible, in passing to the true Hades, which like her is invisible, and pure, and noble, and on her way to the good and wise God, whither, if God will, my soul is also soon to go — that the soul, I repeat, if this be her nature and origin, is blown away and perishes immediately on quitting the body as the many say ? That can never be, dear Simmias and Cebes. The truth rather is that the soul which is pure at departing draws after her no bodily taint, having never voluntarily had connection with the body, which she is ever avoiding, herself gathered into herself (for such abstraction has been the study of her life). And what does this mean but that she has been a true disciple of philosophy and has practised how to die easily ? And is not philosophy the practice of death ? PHAEDO

Once more, he said, what ruling principle is there of human things other than the soul, and especially the wise soul ? Do you know of any ? PHAEDO

He proceeded : I know nothing and can understand nothing of any other of those wise causes which are alleged ; and if a person says to me that the bloom of color, or form, or anything else of that sort is a source of beauty, I leave all that, which is only confusing to me, and simply and singly, and perhaps foolishly, hold and am assured in my own mind that nothing makes a thing beautiful but the presence and participation of beauty in whatever way or manner obtained ; for as to the manner I am uncertain, but I stoutly contend that by beauty all beautiful things become beautiful. That appears to me to be the only safe answer that I can give, either to myself or to any other, and to that I cling, in the persuasion that I shall never be overthrown, and that I may safely answer to myself or any other that by beauty beautiful things become beautiful. Do you not agree to that ? PHAEDO

For after death, as they say, the genius of each individual, to whom he belonged in life, leads him to a certain place in which the dead are gathered together for judgment, whence they go into the world below, following the guide who is appointed to conduct them from this world to the other : and when they have there received their due and remained their time, another guide brings them back again after many revolutions of ages. Now this journey to the other world is not, as Aeschylus says in the "Telephus," a single and straight path — no guide would be wanted for that, and no one could miss a single path ; but there are many partings of the road, and windings, as I must infer from the rites and sacrifices which are offered to the gods below in places where three ways meet on earth. The wise and orderly soul is conscious of her situation and follows in the path ; but the soul which desires the body, and which, as I was relating before, has long been fluttering about the lifeless frame and the world of sight, is after many struggles and many sufferings hardly and with violence carried away by her attendant genius, and when she arrives at the place where the other souls are gathered, if she be impure and have done impure deeds, or been concerned in foul murders or other crimes which are the brothers of these, and the works of brothers in crime — from that soul everyone flees and turns away ; no one will be her companion, no one her guide, but alone she wanders in extremity of evil until certain times are fulfilled, and when they are fulfilled, she is borne irresistibly to her own fitting habitation ; as every pure and just soul which has passed through life in the company and under the guidance of the gods has also her own proper home. PHAEDO

Such is the nature of the whole earth, and of the things which are around the earth ; and there are divers regions in the hollows on the face of the globe everywhere, some of them deeper and also wider than that which we inhabit, others deeper and with a narrower opening than ours, and some are shallower and wider ; all have numerous perforations, and passages broad and narrow in the interior of the earth, connecting them with one another ; and there flows into and out of them, as into basins, a vast tide of water, and huge subterranean streams of perennial rivers, and springs hot and cold, and a great fire, and great rivers of fire, and streams of liquid mud, thin or thick (like the rivers of mud in Sicily, and the lava-streams which follow them), and the regions about which they happen to flow are filled up with them. And there is a sort of swing in the interior of the earth which moves all this up and down. Now the swing is in this wise : There is a chasm which is the vastest of them all, and pierces right through the whole earth ; this is that which Homer describes in the words, PHAEDO

Soc. The wise are doubtful, and I should not be singular if, like them, I too doubted. I might have a rational explanation that Orithyia was playing with Pharmacia, when a northern gust carried her over the neighbouring rocks ; and this being the manner of her death, she was said to have been carried away by Boreas. There is a discrepancy, however, about the locality ; according to another version of the story she was taken from Areopagus, and not from this place. Now I quite acknowledge that these allegories are very nice, but he is not to be envied who has to invent them ; much labour and ingenuity will be required of him ; and when he has once begun, he must go on and rehabilitate Hippocentaurs and chimeras dire. Gorgons and winged steeds flow in apace, and numberless other inconceivable and portentous natures. And if he is sceptical about them, and would fain reduce them one after another to the rules of probability, this sort of crude philosophy will take up a great deal of time. Now I have no leisure for such enquiries ; shall I tell you why ? I must first know myself, as the Delphian inscription says ; to be curious about that which is not my concern, while I am still in ignorance of my own self, would be ridiculous. And therefore I bid farewell to all this ; the common opinion is enough for me. For, as I was saying, I want to know not about this, but about myself : am I a monster more complicated and swollen with passion than the serpent Typho, or a creature of a gentler and simpler sort, to whom Nature has given a diviner and lowlier destiny ? But let me ask you, friend : have we not reached the plane-tree to which you were conducting us ? PHAEDRUS

Soc. I am sure that I must have heard ; but at this moment I do not remember from whom ; perhaps from Sappho the fair, or Anacreon the wise ; or, possibly, from a prose writer. Why do I say so ? Why, because I perceive that my bosom is full, and that I could make another speech as good as that of Lysias, and different. Now I am certain that this is not an invention of my own, who am well aware that I know nothing, and therefore I can only infer that I have been filled through the cars, like a pitcher, from the waters of another, though I have actually forgotten in my stupidity who was my informant. PHAEDRUS

Soc. Come, O ye Muses, melodious, as ye are called, whether you have received this name from the character of your strains, or because the Melians are a musical race, help, O help me in the tale which my good friend here desires me to rehearse, in order that his friend whom he always deemed wise may seem to him to be wiser than ever. PHAEDRUS

He who is the victim of his passions and the slave of pleasure will of course desire to make his beloved as agreeable to himself as possible. Now to him who has a mind discased anything is agreeable which is not opposed to him, but that which is equal or superior is hateful to him, and therefore the lover Will not brook any superiority or equality on the part of his beloved ; he is always employed in reducing him to inferiority. And the ignorant is the inferior of the wise, the coward of the brave, the slow of speech of the speaker, the dull of the clever. These, and not these only, are the mental defects of the beloved ; — defects which, when implanted by nature, are necessarily a delight to the lover, and when not implanted, he must contrive to implant them in him, if he would not be deprived of his fleeting joy. And therefore he cannot help being jealous, and will debar his beloved from the advantages of society which would make a man of him, and especially from that society which would have given him wisdom, and thereby he cannot fail to do him great harm. That is to say, in his excessive fear lest he should come to be despised in his eyes he will be compelled to banish from him divine philosophy ; and there is no greater injury which he can inflict upon him than this. He will contrive that his beloved shall be wholly ignorant, and in everything shall look to him ; he is to be the delight of the lover’s heart, and a curse to himself. Verily, a lover is a profitable guardian and associate for him in all that relates to his mind. PHAEDRUS

And not only while his love continues is he mischievous and unpleasant, but when his love ceases he becomes a perfidious enemy of him on whom he showered his oaths and prayers and promises, and yet could hardly prevail upon him to tolerate the tedium of his company even from motives of interest. The hour of payment arrives, and now he is the servant of another master ; instead of love and infatuation, wisdom and temperance are his bosom’s lords ; but the beloved has not discovered the change which has taken place in him, when he asks for a return and recalls to his recollection former sayings and doings ; he believes himself to be speaking to the same person, and the other, not having the courage to confess the truth, and not knowing how to fulfil the oaths and promises which he made when under the dominion of folly, and having now grown wise and temperate, does not want to do as he did or to be as he was before. And so he runs away and is constrained to be a defaulter ; the oyster-shell has fallen with the other side uppermost — he changes pursuit into flight, while the other is compelled to follow him with passion and imprecation not knowing that he ought never from the first to have accepted a demented lover instead of a sensible non-lover ; and that in making such a choice he was giving himself up to a faithless, morose, envious, disagreeable being, hurtful to his estate, hurtful to his bodily health, and still more hurtful to the cultivation of his mind, than which there neither is nor ever will be anything more honoured in the eyes both of gods and men. Consider this, fair youth, and know that in the friendship of the lover there is no real kindness ; he has an appetite and wants to feed upon you : PHAEDRUS

I might tell of many other noble deeds which have sprung from inspired madness. And therefore, let no one frighten or flutter us by saying that the temperate friend is to be chosen rather than the inspired, but let him further show that love is not sent by the gods for any good to lover or beloved ; if he can do so we will allow him to carry off the palm. And we, on our part, will prove in answer to him that the madness of love is the greatest of heaven’s blessings, and the proof shall be one which the wise will receive, and the witling disbelieve. But first of all, let us view the affections and actions of the soul divine and human, and try to ascertain the truth about them. The beginning of our proof is as follows : PHAEDRUS

Soc. The words of the wise are not to be set aside ; for there is probably something in them ; and therefore the meaning of this saying is not hastily to be dismissed. PHAEDRUS

Soc. Beloved Pan, and all ye other gods who haunt this place, give me beauty in the inward soul ; and may the outward and inward man be at one. May I reckon the wise to be the wealthy, and may I have such a quantity of gold as a temperate man and he only can bear and carry. — Anything more ? The prayer, I think, is enough for me. PHAEDRUS

Soc. And by wisdom the wise are wise ? THEAETETUS  

Soc. Wisdom ; are not men wise in that which they know ? THEAETETUS

Soc. Well, my art of midwifery is in most respects like theirs ; but differs, in that I attend men and not women ; and look after their souls when they are in labour, and not after their bodies : and the triumph of my art is in thoroughly examining whether the thought which the mind of the young man brings forth is a false idol or a noble and true birth. And like the mid-wives, I am barren, and the reproach which is often made against me, that I ask questions of others and have not the wit to answer them myself, is very just — the reason is, that the god compels me to be a midwife, but does not allow me to bring forth. And therefore I am not myself at all wise, nor have I anything to show which is the invention or birth of my own soul, but those who converse with me profit. Some of them appear dull enough at first, but afterwards, as our acquaintance ripens, if the god is gracious to them, they all make astonishing progress ; and this in the opinion of others as well as in their own. It is quite dear that they never learned anything from me ; the many fine discoveries to which they cling are of their own making. But to me and the god they owe their delivery. And the proof of my words is, that many of them in their ignorance, either in their self-conceit despising me, or falling under the influence of others, have gone away too soon ; and have not only lost the children of whom I had previously delivered them by an ill bringing up, but have stifled whatever else they had in them by evil communications, being fonder of lies and shams than of the truth ; and they have at last ended by seeing themselves, as others see them, to be great fools. Aristeides, the son of Lysimachus, is one of them, and there are many others. The truants often return to me, and beg that I would consort with them again — they are ready to go to me on their knees and then, if my familiar allows, which is not always the case, I receive them, and they begin to grow again. Dire are the pangs which my art is able to arouse and to allay in those who consort with me, just like the pangs of women in childbirth ; night and day they are full of perplexity and travail which is even worse than that of the women. So much for them. And there are others, Theaetetus, who come to me apparently having nothing in them ; and as I know that they have no need of my art, I coax them into marrying some one, and by the grace of God I can generally tell who is likely to do them good. Many of them I have given away to Prodicus, and many to other inspired sages. I tell you this long story, friend Theaetetus, because I suspect, as indeed you seem to think yourself, that you are in labour — great with some conception. Come then to me, who am a midwife’s son and myself a midwife, and do your best to answer the questions which I will ask you. And if I abstract and expose your first-born, because I discover upon inspection that the conception which you have formed is a vain shadow, do not quarrel with me on that account, as the manner of women is when their first children are taken from them. For I have actually known some who were ready to bite me when I deprived them of a darling folly ; they did not perceive that I acted from good will, not knowing that no god is the enemy of man — that was not within the range of their ideas ; neither am I their enemy in all this, but it would be wrong for me to admit falsehood, or to stifle the truth. Once more, then, Theaetetus, I repeat my old question, "What is knowledge ?" — and do not say that you cannot tell ; but quit yourself like a man, and by the help of God you will be able to tell. THEAETETUS

Soc. A wise man is not likely to talk nonsense. Let us try to understand him : the same wind is blowing, and yet one of us may be cold and the other not, or one may be slightly and the other very cold ? THEAETETUS

Soc. In the name of the Graces, what an almighty wise man Protagoras must have been ! He spoke these things in a parable to the common herd, like you and me, but told the truth, his Truth, in secret to his own disciples. THEAETETUS

And I am far from saying that wisdom and the wise man have no existence ; but I say that the wise man is he who makes the evils which appear and are to a man, into goods which are and appear to him. And I would beg you not to my words in the letter, but to take the meaning of them as I will explain them. Remember what has been already said, — that to the sick man his food appears to be and is bitter, and to the man in health the opposite of bitter. Now I cannot conceive that one of these men can be or ought to be made wiser than the other : nor can you assert that the sick man because he has one impression is foolish, and the healthy man because he has another is wise ; but the one state requires to be changed into the other, the worse into the better. As in education, a change of state has to be effected, and the sophist accomplishes by words the change which the physician works by the aid of drugs. Not that any one ever made another think truly, who previously thought falsely. For no one can think what is not, or think anything different from that which he feels ; and this is always true. But as the inferior habit of mind has thoughts of kindred nature, so I conceive that a good mind causes men to have good thoughts ; and these which the inexperienced call true, I maintain to be only better, and not truer than others. And, O my dear Socrates, I do not call wise men tadpoles : far from it ; I say that they are the physicians of the human body, and the husbandmen of plants — for the husbandmen also take away the evil and disordered sensations of plants, and infuse into them good and healthy sensations — aye and true ones ; and the wise and good rhetoricians make the good instead of the evil to seem just to states ; for whatever appears to a state to be just and fair, so long as it is regarded as such, is just and fair to it ; but the teacher of wisdom causes the good to take the place of the evil, both in appearance and in reality. And in like manner the Sophist who is able to train his pupils in this spirit is a wise man, and deserves to be well paid by them. And so one man is wiser than another ; and no one thinks falsely, and you, whether you will or not, must endure to be a measure. On these foundations the argument stands firm, which you, Socrates, may, if you please, overthrow by an opposite argument, or if you like you may put questions to me — a method to which no intelligent person will object, quite the reverse. But I must beg you to put fair questions : for there is great inconsistency in saying that you have a zeal for virtue, and then always behaving unfairly in argument. The unfairness of which I complain is that you do not distinguish between mere disputation and dialectic : the disputer may trip up his opponent as often as he likes, and make fun ; but the dialectician will be in earnest, and only correct his adversary when necessary, telling him the errors into which he has fallen through his own fault, or that of the company which he has previously kept. If you do so, your adversary will lay the blame of his own confusion and perplexity on himself, and not on you ; will follow and love you, and will hate himself, and escape from himself into philosophy, in order that he may become different from what he was. But the other mode of arguing, which is practised by the many, will have just the opposite effect upon him ; and as he grows older, instead of turning philosopher, he will come to hate philosophy. I would recommend you, therefore, as I said before, not to encourage yourself in this polemical and controversial temper, but to find out, in a friendly and congenial spirit, what we really mean when we say that all things are in motion, and that to every individual and state what appears, is. In this manner you will consider whether knowledge and sensation are the same or different, but you will not argue, as you were just now doing, from the customary use of names and words, which the vulgar pervert in all sorts of ways, causing infinite perplexity to one another. THEAETETUS

Soc. In the first place, let us return to our old objection, and see whether we were right in blaming and taking offence at Protagoras on the ground that he assumed all to be equal and sufficient in wisdom ; although he admitted that there was a better and worse, and that in respect of this, some who as he said were the wise excelled others. THEAETETUS

Soc. Evils, Theodorus, can never pass away ; for there must always remain something which is antagonistic to good. Having no place among the gods in heaven, of necessity they hover around the mortal nature, and this earthly sphere. Wherefore we ought to fly away from earth to heaven as quickly as we can ; and to fly away is to become like God, as far as this is possible ; and to become like him, is to become holy, just, and wise. But, O my friend, you cannot easily convince mankind that they should pursue virtue or avoid vice, not merely in order that a man may seem to be good, which is the reason given by the world, and in my judgment is only a repetition of an old wives fable. Whereas, the truth is that God is never in any way unrighteous — he is perfect righteousness ; and he of us who is the most righteous is most like him. Herein is seen the true cleverness of a man, and also his nothingness and want of manhood. For to know this is true wisdom and virtue, and ignorance of this is manifest folly and vice. All other kinds of wisdom or cleverness, which seem only, such as the wisdom of politicians, or the wisdom of the arts, are coarse and vulgar. The unrighteous man, or the sayer and doer of unholy things, had far better not be encouraged in the illusion that his roguery is clever ; for men glory in their shame — they fancy that they hear others saying of them, "These are not mere good-for-nothing persons, mere burdens of the earth, but such as men should be who mean to dwell safely in a state." Let us tell them that they are all the more truly what they do not think they are because they do not know it ; for they do not know the penalty of injustice, which above all things they ought to know — not stripes and death, as they suppose, which evil-doers often escape, but a penalty which cannot be escaped. THEAETETUS

Soc. And so, Theodorus, we have got rid of your friend without assenting to his doctrine, that every man is the measure of all things — a wise man only is a measure ; neither can we allow that knowledge is perception, certainly not on the hypothesis of a perpetual flux, unless perchance our friend Theaetetus is able to convince us that it is. THEAETETUS

Soc. And the origin of truth and error is as follows : — When the wax in the soul of any one is deep and abundant, and smooth and perfectly tempered, then the impressions which pass through the senses and sink into the heart of the soul, as Homer says in a parable, meaning to indicate the likeness of the soul to wax (Kerh Kerhos) ; these, I say, being pure and clear, and having a sufficient depth of wax, are also lasting, and minds, such as these, easily learn and easily retain, and are not liable to confusion, but have true thoughts, for they have plenty of room, and having clear impressions of things, as we term them, quickly distribute them into their proper places on the block. And such men are called wise. Do you agree ? THEAETETUS

Soc. The profession of the great wise ones who are called orators and lawyers ; for these persuade men by their art and make them think whatever they like, but they do not teach them. Do you imagine that there are any teachers in the world so clever as to be able to convince others of the truth about acts of robbery or violence, of which they were not eyewitnesses, while a little water is flowing in the clepsydra ? THEAETETUS

Soc. Then may we assume, Theaetetus, that to-day, and in this casual manner, we have found a truth which in former times many wise men have grown old and have not found ? THEAETETUS

Str. There can be no doubt that they are thought ridiculous, Theaetetus ; but then the dialectical art never considers whether the benefit to be derived from the purge is greater or less than that to be derived from the sponge, and has not more interest in the one than in the other ; her endeavour is to know what is and is not kindred in all arts, with a view to the acquisition of intelligence ; and having this in view, she honours them all alike, and when she makes comparisons, she counts one of them not a whit more ridiculous than another ; nor does she esteem him who adduces as his example of hunting, the general’s art, at all more decorous than another who cites that of the vermin-destroyer, but only as the greater pretender of the two. And as to your question concerning the name which was to comprehend all these arts of purification, whether of animate or inanimate bodies, the art of dialectic is in no wise particular about fine words, if she maybe only allowed to have a general name for all other purifications, binding them up together and separating them off from the purification of the soul or intellect. For this is the purification at which she wants to arrive, and this we should understand to be her aim. SOPHIST

Str. But whereas some appear to have arrived at the conclusion that all ignorance is involuntary, and that no one who thinks himself wise is willing to learn any of those things in which he is conscious of his own cleverness, and that the admonitory sort of instruction gives much trouble and does little good — SOPHIST

Str. And do they not say that one soul is just, and another unjust, and that one soul is wise, and another foolish ? SOPHIST

Str. And that the just and wise soul becomes just and wise by the possession of justice and wisdom, and the opposite under opposite circumstances ? SOPHIST

Theaet. The philosopher he cannot be, for upon our view he is ignorant ; but since he is an imitator of the wise he will have a name which is formed by an adaptation of the word sothos. What shall we name him ? I am pretty sure that I cannot be mistaken in terming him the true and very Sophist. SOPHIST

Str. Suppose now, O most courageous of dialecticians, that some wise and understanding creature, such as a crane is reputed to be, were, in imitation of you, to make a similar division, and set up cranes against all other animals to their own special glorification, at the same time jumbling together all the others, including man, under the appellation of brutes, — here would be the sort of error which we must try to avoid. STATESMAN

Str. Well, then, in which of these various forms of States may the science of government, which is among the greatest of all sciences and most difficult to acquire, be supposed to reside ? That we must discover, and then we shall see who are the false politicians who pretend to be politicians but are not, although they persuade many, and shall separate them from the wise king. STATESMAN

Str. And if he who gave laws, written or unwritten, determining what was good or bad, honourable or dishonourable, just or unjust, to the tribes of men who flock together in their several cities, and are governed accordance with them ; if, I say, the wise legislator were suddenly to come again, or another like to him, is he to be prohibited from changing them ? — would not this prohibition be in reality quite as ridiculous as the other ? STATESMAN

Str. And shall we say that the violence, if exercised by a rich man, is just, and if by a poor man, unjust ? May not any man, rich or poor, with or without laws, with the will of the citizens or against the will of the citizens, do what is for their interest ? Is not this the true principle of government, according to which the wise and good man will order the affairs of his subjects ? As the pilot, by watching continually over the interests of the ship and of the crew — not by laying down rules, but by making his art a law — preserves the lives of his fellow-sailors, even and in the self-same way, may there not be a true form of polity created by those who are able to govern in a similar spirit, and who show a strength of art which is superior to the law ? Nor can wise rulers ever err while they, observing the one great rule of distributing justice to the citizens with intelligence and skill, are able to preserve them, and, as far as may be, to make them better from being worse. STATESMAN

Str. The noble pilot and the wise physician, who "is worth many another man" — in the similitude of these let us endeavour to discover some image of the king. STATESMAN

Str. And again, the peaceful and orderly nature, if sharing in these opinions, becomes temperate and wise, as far as this may be in a State, but if not, deservedly obtains the ignominious name of silliness. STATESMAN

Tim. Let me tell you then why the creator made this world of generation. He was good, and the good can never have any jealousy of anything. And being free from jealousy, he desired that all things should be as like himself as they could be. This is in the truest sense the origin of creation and of the world, as we shall do well in believing on the testimony of wise men : God desired that all things should be good and nothing bad, so far as this was attainable. Wherefore also finding the whole visible sphere not at rest, but moving in an irregular and disorderly fashion, out of disorder he brought order, considering that this was in every way better than the other. Now the deeds of the best could never be or have been other than the fairest ; and the creator, reflecting on the things which are by nature visible, found that no unintelligent creature taken as a whole was fairer than the intelligent taken as a whole ; and that intelligence could not be present in anything which was devoid of soul. For which reason, when he was framing the universe, he put intelligence in soul, and soul in body, that he might be the creator of a work which was by nature fairest and best. Wherefore, using the language of probability, we may say that the world became a living creature truly endowed with soul and intelligence by the providence of God. TIMAEUS  

Now God did not make the soul after the body, although we are speaking of them in this order ; for having brought them together he would never have allowed that the elder should be ruled by the younger ; but this is a random manner of speaking which we have, because somehow we ourselves too are very much under the dominion of chance. Whereas he made the soul in origin and excellence prior to and older than the body, to be the ruler and mistress, of whom the body was to be the subject. And he made her out of the following elements and on this wise : Out of the indivisible and unchangeable, and also out of that which is divisible and has to do with material bodies, he compounded a third and intermediate kind of essence, partaking of the nature of the same and of the other, and this compound he placed accordingly in a mean between the indivisible, and the divisible and material. He took the three elements of the same, the other, and the essence, and mingled them into one form, compressing by force the reluctant and unsociable nature of the other into the same. When he had mingled them with the essence and out of three made one, he again divided this whole into as many portions as was fitting, each portion being a compound of the same, the other, and the essence. And he proceeded to divide after this manner : — First of all, he took away one part of the whole [1], and then he separated a second part which was double the first [2], and then he took away a third part which was half as much again as the second and three times as much as the first [3], and then he took a fourth part which was twice as much as the second [4], and a fifth part which was three times the third [9], and a sixth part which was eight times the first [8], and a seventh part which was twenty-seven times the first [27]. After this he filled up the double intervals [i.e. between 1, 2, 4, 8] and the triple [i.e. between 1, 3, 9, 27] cutting off yet other portions from the mixture and placing them in the intervals, so that in each interval there were two kinds of means, the one exceeding and exceeded by equal parts of its extremes [as for example 1, 4/3, 2, in which the mean 4/3 is one-third of 1 more than 1, and one-third of 2 less than 2], the other being that kind of mean which exceeds and is exceeded by an equal number. Where there were intervals of 3/2 and of 4/3 and of 9/8, made by the connecting terms in the former intervals, he filled up all the intervals of 4/3 with the interval of 9/8, leaving a fraction over ; and the interval which this fraction expressed was in the ratio of 256 to 243. And thus the whole mixture out of which he cut these portions was all exhausted by him. This entire compound he divided lengthways into two parts, which he joined to one another at the centre like the letter X, and bent them into a circular form, connecting them with themselves and each other at the point opposite to their original meeting-point ; and, comprehending them in a uniform revolution upon the same axis, he made the one the outer and the other the inner circle. Now the motion of the outer circle he called the motion of the same, and the motion of the inner circle the motion of the other or diverse. The motion of the same he carried round by the side to the right, and the motion of the diverse diagonally to the left. And he gave dominion to the motion of the same and like, for that he left single and undivided ; but the inner motion he divided in six places and made seven unequal circles having their intervals in ratios of two and three, three of each, and bade the orbits proceed in a direction opposite to one another ; and three [Sun, Mercury, Venus] he made to move with equal swiftness, and the remaining four [Moon, Saturn, Mars, Jupiter] to move with unequal swiftness to the three and to one another, but in due proportion. TIMAEUS

In the next place we have to consider that there are divers kinds of fire. There are, for example, first, flame ; and secondly, those emanations of flame which do not burn but only give light to the eyes ; thirdly, the remains of fire, which are seen in red-hot embers after the flame has been extinguished. There are similar differences in the air ; of which the brightest part is called the aether, and the most turbid sort mist and darkness ; and there are various other nameless kinds which arise from the inequality of the triangles. Water, again, admits in the first place of a division into two kinds ; the one liquid and the other fusile. The liquid kind is composed of the small and unequal particles of water ; and moves itself and is moved by other bodies owing to the want of uniformity and the shape of its particles ; whereas the fusile kind, being formed of large and uniform particles, is more stable than the other, and is heavy and compact by reason of its uniformity. But when fire gets in and dissolves the particles and destroys the uniformity, it has greater mobility, and becoming fluid is thrust forth by the neighbouring air and spreads upon the earth ; and this dissolution of the solid masses is called melting, and their spreading out upon the earth flowing. Again, when the fire goes out of the fusile substance, it does not pass into vacuum, but into the neighbouring air ; and the air which is displaced forces together the liquid and still moveable mass into the place which was occupied by the fire, and unites it with itself. Thus compressed the mass resumes its equability, and is again at unity with itself, because the fire which was the author of the inequality has retreated ; and this departure of the fire is called cooling, and the coming together which follows upon it is termed congealment. Of all the kinds termed fusile, that which is the densest and is formed out of the finest and most uniform parts is that most precious possession called gold, which is hardened by filtration through rock ; this is unique in kind, and has both a glittering and a yellow colour. A shoot of gold, which is so dense as to be very hard, and takes a black colour, is termed adamant. There is also another kind which has parts nearly like gold, and of which there are several species ; it is denser than gold, and it contains a small and fine portion of earth, and is therefore harder, yet also lighter because of the great interstices which it has within itself ; and this substance, which is one of the bright and denser kinds of water, when solidified is called copper. There is an alloy of earth mingled with it, which, when the two parts grow old and are disunited, shows itself separately and is called rust. The remaining phenomena of the same kind there will be no difficulty in reasoning out by the method of probabilities. A man may sometimes set aside meditations about eternal things, and for recreation turn to consider the truths of generation which are probable only ; he will thus gain a pleasure not to be repented of, and secure for himself while he lives a wise and moderate pastime. Let us grant ourselves this indulgence, and go through the probabilities relating to the same subjects which follow next in order. TIMAEUS

The phenomena of medical cupping-glasses and of the swallowing of drink and of the projection of bodies, whether discharged in the air or bowled along the ground, are to be investigated on a similar principle ; and swift and slow sounds, which appear to be high and low, and are sometimes discordant on account of their inequality, and then again harmonical on account of the equality of the motion which they excite in us. For when the motions of the antecedent swifter sounds begin to pause and the two are equalised, the slower sounds overtake the swifter and then propel them. When they overtake them they do not intrude a new and discordant motion, but introduce the beginnings of a slower, which answers to the swifter as it dies away, thus producing a single mixed expression out of high and low, whence arises a pleasure which even the unwise feel, and which to the wise becomes a higher sort of delight, being an imitation of divine harmony in mortal motions. Moreover, as to the flowing of water, the fall of the thunderbolt, and the marvels that are observed about the attraction of amber and the Heraclean stones, — in none of these cases is there any attraction ; but he who investigates rightly, will find that such wonderful phenomena are attributable to the combination of certain conditions — the non-existence of a vacuum, the fact that objects push one another round, and that they change places, passing severally into their proper positions as they are divided or combined TIMAEUS

Now the city in those days was arranged on this wise. In the first place the Acropolis was not as now. For the fact is that a single night of excessive rain washed away the earth and laid bare the rock ; at the same time there were earthquakes, and then occurred the extraordinary inundation, which was the third before the great destruction of Deucalion. But in primitive times the hill of the Acropolis extended to the Eridanus and Ilissus, and included the Pnyx on one side, and the Lycabettus as a boundary on the opposite side to the Pnyx, and was all well covered with soil, and level at the top, except in one or two places. Outside the Acropolis and under the sides of the hill there dwelt artisans, and such of the husbandmen as were tilling the ground near ; the warrior class dwelt by themselves around the temples of Athene and Hephaestus at the summit, which moreover they had enclosed with a single fence like the garden of a single house. On the north side they had dwellings in common and had erected halls for dining in winter, and had all the buildings which they needed for their common life, besides temples, but there was no adorning of them with gold and silver, for they made no use of these for any purpose ; they took a middle course between meanness and ostentation, and built modest houses in which they and their children’s children grew old, and they handed them down to others who were like themselves, always the same. But in summer-time they left their gardens and gymnasia and dining halls, and then the southern side of the hill was made use of by them for the same purpose. Where the Acropolis now is there was a fountain, which was choked by the earthquake, and has left only the few small streams which still exist in the vicinity, but in those days the fountain gave an abundant supply of water for all and of suitable temperature in summer and in winter. CRITIAS

The palaces in the interior of the citadel were constructed on this wise : — in the centre was a holy temple dedicated to Cleito and Poseidon, which remained inaccessible, and was surrounded by an enclosure of gold ; this was the spot where the family of the ten princes first saw the light, and thither the people annually brought the fruits of the earth in their season from all the ten portions, to be an offering to each of the ten. Here was Poseidon’s own temple which was a stadium in length, and half a stadium in width, and of a proportionate height, having a strange barbaric appearance. All the outside of the temple, with the exception of the pinnacles, they covered with silver, and the pinnacles with gold. In the interior of the temple the roof was of ivory, curiously wrought everywhere with gold and silver and orichalcum ; and all the other parts, the walls and pillars and floor, they coated with orichalcum. In the temple they placed statues of gold : there was the god himself standing in a chariot — the charioteer of six winged horses — and of such a size that he touched the roof of the building with his head ; around him there were a hundred Nereids riding on dolphins, for such was thought to be the number of them by the men of those days. There were also in the interior of the temple other images which had been dedicated by private persons. And around the temple on the outside were placed statues of gold of all the descendants of the ten kings and of their wives, and there were many other great offerings of kings and of private persons, coming both from the city itself and from the foreign cities over which they held sway. There was an altar too, which in size and workmanship corresponded to this magnificence, and the palaces, in like manner, answered to the greatness of the kingdom and the glory of the temple. CRITIAS

As to offices and honours, the following was the arrangement from the first. Each of the ten kings in his own division and in his own city had the absolute control of the citizens, and, in most cases, of the laws, punishing and slaying whomsoever he would. Now the order of precedence among them and their mutual relations were regulated by the commands of Poseidon which the law had handed down. These were inscribed by the first kings on a pillar of orichalcum, which was situated in the middle of the island, at the temple of Poseidon, whither the kings were gathered together every fifth and every sixth year alternately, thus giving equal honour to the odd and to the even number. And when they were gathered together they consulted about their common interests, and enquired if any one had transgressed in anything and passed judgment and before they passed judgment they gave their pledges to one another on this wise : — There were bulls who had the range of the temple of Poseidon ; and the ten kings, being left alone in the temple, after they had offered prayers to the god that they might capture the victim which was acceptable to him, hunted the bulls, without weapons but with staves and nooses ; and the bull which they caught they led up to the pillar and cut its throat over the top of it so that the blood fell upon the sacred inscription. Now on the pillar, besides the laws, there was inscribed an oath invoking mighty curses on the disobedient. When therefore, after slaying the bull in the accustomed manner, they had burnt its limbs, they filled a bowl of wine and cast in a clot of blood for each of them ; the rest of the victim they put in the fire, after having purified the column all round. Then they drew from the bowl in golden cups and pouring a libation on the fire, they swore that they would judge according to the laws on the pillar, and would punish him who in any point had already transgressed them, and that for the future they would not, if they could help, offend against the writing on the pillar, and would neither command others, nor obey any ruler who commanded them, to act otherwise than according to the laws of their father Poseidon. This was the prayer which each of them offered up for himself and for his descendants, at the same time drinking and dedicating the cup out of which he drank in the temple of the god ; and after they had supped and satisfied their needs, when darkness came on, and the fire about the sacrifice was cool, all of them put on most beautiful azure robes, and, sitting on the ground, at night, over the embers of the sacrifices by which they had sworn, and extinguishing all the fire about the temple, they received and gave judgment, if any of them had an accusation to bring against any one ; and when they given judgment, at daybreak they wrote down their sentences on a golden tablet, and dedicated it together with their robes to be a memorial. CRITIAS

Soc. The awe which I always feel, Protarchus, about the names of the gods is more than human — it exceeds all other fears. And now I would not sin against Aphrodite by naming her amiss ; let her be called what she pleases. But Pleasure I know to be manifold, and with her, as I was just now saying, we must begin, and consider what her nature is. She has one name, and therefore you would imagine that she is one ; and yet surely she takes the most varied and even unlike forms. For do we not say that the intemperate has pleasure, and that the temperate has pleasure in his very temperance — that the fool is pleased when he is full of foolish fancies and hopes, and that the wise man has pleasure in his wisdom ? and how foolish would any one be who affirmed that all these opposite pleasures are severally alike ! PHILEBUS  

Soc. A gift of heaven, which, as I conceive, the gods tossed among men by the hands of a new Prometheus, and therewith a blaze of light ; and the ancients, who were our betters and nearer the gods than we are, handed down the tradition, that whatever things are said to be are composed of one and many, and have the finite, and infinite implanted in them : seeing, then, that such is the order of the world, we too ought in every enquiry to begin by laying down one idea of that which is the subject of enquiry ; this unity we shall find in everything. Having found it, we may next proceed to look for two, if there be two, or, if not, then for three or some other number, subdividing each of these units, until at last the unity with which we began is seen not only to be one and many and infinite, but also a definite number ; the infinite must not be suffered to approach the many until the entire number of the species intermediate between unity and infinity has been discovered — then, and not till then, we may, rest from division, and without further troubling ourselves about the endless individuals may allow them to drop into infinity. This, as I was saying, is the way of considering and learning and teaching one another, which the gods have handed down to us. But the wise men of our time are either too quick or too slow, in conceiving plurality in unity. Having no method, they make their one and many anyhow, and from unity pass at once to infinity ; the intermediate steps never occur to them. And this, I repeat, is what makes the difference between the mere art of disputation and true dialectic. PHILEBUS

Pro. That seems to be very near the truth, Socrates. Happy would the wise man be if he knew all things, and the next best thing for him is that he should know himself. Why do I say so at this moment ? I will tell you. You, Socrates, have granted us this opportunity of conversing with you, and are ready to assist us in determining what is the best of human goods. For when Philebus said that pleasure and delight and enjoyment and the like were the chief good, you answered — No, not those, but another class of goods ; and we are constantly reminding ourselves of what you said, and very properly, in order that we may not forget to examine and compare the two. And these goods, which in your opinion are to be designated as superior to pleasure, and are the true objects of pursuit, are mind and knowledge and understanding and art and the like. There was a dispute about which were the best, and we playfully threatened that you should not be allowed to go home until the question was settled ; and you agreed, and placed yourself at our disposal. And now, as children say, what has been fairly given cannot be taken back ; cease then to fight against us in this way. PHILEBUS

Soc. Then if this be denied, should we not be wise in adopting the other view and maintaining that there is in the universe a mighty infinite and an adequate limit, of which we have often spoken, as well as a presiding cause of no mean power, which orders and arranges years and seasons and months, and may be justly called wisdom and mind ? PHILEBUS

Soc. Very good ; but still, if I am not mistaken, you do assert that we must always be experiencing one of them ; that is what the wise tell us ; for, say they, all things are ever flowing up and down. PHILEBUS

Pro. I understand you, and see that there is a great difference between them ; the temperate are restrained by the wise man’s aphorism of "Never too much," which is their rule, but excess of pleasure possessing the minds of fools and wantons becomes madness and makes them shout with delight. PHILEBUS

Which stirs even a wise man to violence, PHILEBUS

Ath. Come now and let us all join in asking this question of Tyrtaeus : O most divine poet, we will say to him, the excellent praise which you have bestowed on those who excel in war sufficiently proves that you are wise and good, and I and Megillus and Cleinias of Cnosus do, as I believe, entirely agree with you. But we should like to be quite sure that we are speaking of the same men ; tell us, then, do you agree with us in thinking that there are two kinds of war ; or what would you say ? A far inferior man to Tyrtaeus would have no difficulty in replying quite truly, that war is of two kinds one which is universally called civil war, and is as we were just now saying, of all wars the worst ; the other, as we should all admit, in which we fall out with other nations who are of a different race, is a far milder form of warfare. LAWS BOOK I

Ath. Must we not appoint a sober man and a wise to be our master of the revels ? For if the ruler of drinkers be himself young and drunken, and not over-wise, only by some special good fortune will he be saved from doing some great evil. LAWS BOOK I

Ath. Is not the effect of this quite the opposite of the effect of the other ? When a man drinks wine he begins to be better pleased with himself, and the more he drinks the more he is filled full of brave hopes, and conceit of his power, and at last the string of his tongue is loosened, and fancying himself wise, he is brimming over with lawlessness, and has no more fear or respect, and is ready to do or say anything. LAWS BOOK I

Ath. The adaptation of art to the characters of men. Choric movements are imitations of manners occurring in various actions, fortunes, dispositions — each particular is imitated, and those to whom the words, or songs, or dances are suited, either by nature or habit or both, cannot help feeling pleasure in them and applauding them, and calling them beautiful. But those whose natures, or ways, or habits are unsuited to them, cannot delight in them or applaud them, and they call them base. There are others, again, whose natures are right and their habits wrong, or whose habits are right and their natures wrong, and they praise one thing, but are pleased at another. For they say that all these imitations are pleasant, but not good. And in the presence of those whom they think wise, they are ashamed of dancing and singing in the baser manner, or of deliberately lending any countenance to such proceedings ; and yet, they have a secret pleasure in them. LAWS BOOK II

Meg. But were you not right and wise in speaking as you did, and we in assenting to you ? LAWS BOOK III

Ath. Let us, then, in the first place declare and affirm that the citizen who does not know these things ought never to have any kind of authority entrusted to him : he must be stigmatized as ignorant, even though he be versed in calculation and skilled in all sorts of accomplishments, and feats of mental dexterity ; and the opposite are to be called wise, even although, in the words of the proverb, they know neither how to read nor how to swim ; and to them, as to men of sense, authority is to be committed. For, O my friends, how can there be the least shadow of wisdom when there is no harmony ? There is none ; but the noblest and greatest of harmonies may be truly said to be the greatest wisdom ; and of this he is a partaker who lives according to reason ; whereas he who is devoid of reason is the destroyer of his house and the very opposite of a saviour of the state : he is utterly ignorant of political wisdom. Let this, then, as I was saying, be laid down by us. LAWS BOOK III

Ath. Yes, and a rule which prevails very widely among all creatures, and is according to nature, as the Theban poet Pindar once said ; and the sixth principle, and the greatest of all, is, that the wise should lead and command, and the ignorant follow and obey ; and yet, O thou most wise Pindar, as I should reply him, this surely is not contrary to nature, but according to nature, being the rule of law over willing subjects, and not a rule of compulsion. LAWS BOOK III

Ath. There was small credit to us, Cleinias, in defeating them ; and the discredit was, not that the conquerors did not win glorious victories both by land and sea, but what, in my opinion, brought discredit was, first of all, the circumstance that of the three cities one only fought on behalf of Hellas, and the two others were so utterly good for nothing that the one was waging a mighty war against Lacedaemon, and was thus preventing her from rendering assistance, while the city of Argos, which had the precedence at the time of the distribution, when asked to aid in repelling the barbarian, would not answer to the call, or give aid. Many things might be told about Hellas in connection with that war which are far from honourable ; nor, indeed, can we rightly say that Hellas repelled the invader ; for the truth is, that unless the Athenians and Lacedaemonians, acting in concert, had warded off the impending yoke, all the tribes of Hellas would have been fused in a chaos of Hellenes mingling with one another, of barbarians mingling with Hellenes, and Hellenes with barbarians ; just as nations who are now subject to the Persian power, owing to unnatural separations and combinations of them, are dispersed and scattered, and live miserably. These, Cleinias and Megillus, are the reproaches which we have to make against statesmen and legislators, as they are called, past and present, if we would analyse the causes of their failure, and find out what else might have been done. We said, for instance, just now, that there ought to be no great and unmixed powers ; and this was under the idea that a state ought to be free and wise and harmonious, and that a legislator ought to legislate with a view to this end. Nor is there any reason to be surprised at our continually proposing aims for the legislator which appear not to be always the same ; but we should consider when we say that temperance is to be the aim, or wisdom is to be the aim, or friendship is to be the aim, that all these aims are really the same ; and if so, a variety in the modes of expression ought not to disturb us. LAWS BOOK III

Ath. Hear, then : — There was a time when the Persians had more of the state which is a mean between slavery and freedom. In the reign of Cyrus they were freemen and also lords of many others : the rulers gave a share of freedom to the subjects, and being treated as equals, the soldiers were on better terms with their generals, and showed themselves more ready in the hour of danger. And if there was any wise man among them, who was able to give good counsel, he imparted his wisdom to the public ; for the king was not jealous, but allowed him full liberty of speech, and gave honour to those who could advise him in any matter. And the nation waxed in all respects, because there was freedom and friendship and communion of mind among them. LAWS BOOK III

Ath. Any more than our pattern wise man, whom we exhibited as having his pleasures and pains in accordance with and corresponding to true reason, can be intemperate ? LAWS BOOK III

Ath. The difficulty is to find the divine love of temperate and just institutions existing in any powerful forms of government, whether in a monarchy or oligarchy of wealth or of birth. You might as well hope to reproduce the character of Nestor, who is said to have excelled all men in the power of speech, and yet more in his temperance. This, however, according to the tradition, was in the times of Troy ; in our own days there is nothing of the sort ; but if such an one either has or ever shall come into being, or is now among us, blessed is he and blessed are they who hear the wise words that flow from his lips. And this may be said of power in general : When the supreme power in man coincides with the greatest wisdom and temperance, then the best laws and the best constitution come into being ; but in no other way. And let what I have been saying be regarded as a kind of sacred legend or oracle, and let this be our proof that, in one point of view, there may be a difficulty for a city to have good laws, but that there is another point of view in which nothing can be easier or sooner effected, granting our supposition. LAWS BOOK IV

Ath. The reason is, my excellent friends, that you really have polities, but the states of which we were just now speaking are merely aggregations of men dwelling in cities who are the subjects and servants of a part of their own state, and each of them is named after the dominant power ; they are not polities at all. But if states are to be named after their rulers, the true state ought to be called by the name of the God who rules over wise men. LAWS BOOK IV

Ath. "Friends," we say to them, — "God, as the old tradition declares, holding in his hand the beginning, middle, and end of all that is, travels according to his nature in a straight line towards the accomplishment of his end. Justice always accompanies him, and is the punisher of those who fall short of the divine law. To justice, he who would be happy holds fast, and follows in her company with all humility and order ; but he who is lifted up with pride, or elated by wealth or rank, or beauty, who is young and foolish, and has a soul hot with insolence, and thinks that he has no need of any guide or ruler, but is able himself to be the guide of others, he, I say, is left deserted of God ; and being thus deserted, he takes to him others who are like himself, and dances about, throwing all things into confusion, and many think that he is a great man, but in a short time he pays a penalty which justice cannot but approve, and is utterly destroyed, and his family and city with him. Wherefore, seeing that human things are thus ordered, what should a wise man do or think, or not do or think ? LAWS BOOK IV

Ath. Then what life is agreeable to God, and becoming in his followers ? One only, expressed once for all in the old saying that "like agrees with like, with measure measure," but things which have no measure agree neither with themselves nor with the things which have. Now God ought to be to us the measure of all things, and not man, as men commonly say (Protagoras) : the words are far more true of him. And he who would be dear to God must, as far as is possible, be like him and such as he is. Wherefore the temperate man is the friend of God, for he is like him ; and the intemperate man is unlike him, and different from him, and unjust. And the same applies to other things ; and this is the conclusion, which is also the noblest and truest of all sayings — that for the good man to offer sacrifice to the Gods, and hold converse with them by means of prayers and offerings and every kind of service, is the noblest and best of all things, and also the most conducive to a happy life, and very fit and meet. But with the bad man, the opposite of this is true : for the bad man has an impure soul, whereas the good is pure ; and from one who is polluted, neither good man nor God can without impropriety receive gifts. Wherefore the unholy do only waste their much service upon the Gods, but when offered by any holy man, such service is most acceptable to them. This is the mark at which we ought to aim. But what weapons shall we use, and how shall we direct them ? In the first place, we affirm that next after the Olympian Gods and the Gods of the State, honour should be given to the Gods below ; they should receive everything in even and of the second choice, and ill omen, while the odd numbers, and the first choice, and the things of lucky omen, are given to the Gods above, by him who would rightly hit the mark of piety. Next to these Gods, a wise man will do service to the demons or spirits, and then to the heroes, and after them will follow the private and ancestral Gods, who are worshipped as the law prescribes in the places which are sacred to them. Next comes the honour of living parents, to whom, as is meet, we have to pay the first and greatest and oldest of all debts, considering that all which a man has belongs to those who gave him birth and brought him up, and that he must do all that he can to minister to them, first, in his property, secondly, in his person, and thirdly, in his soul, in return for the endless care and travail which they bestowed upon him of old, in the days of his infancy, and which he is now to pay back to them when they are old and in the extremity of their need. And all his life long he ought never to utter, or to have uttered, an unbecoming word to them ; for of light and fleeting words the penalty is most severe ; Nemesis, the messenger of justice, is appointed to watch over all such matters. When they are angry and want to satisfy their feelings in word or deed, he should give way to them ; for a father who thinks that he has been wronged by his son may be reasonably expected to be very angry. At their death, the most moderate funeral is best, neither exceeding the customary expense, nor yet falling short of the honour which has been usually shown by the former generation to their parents. And let a man not forget to pay the yearly tribute of respect to the dead, honouring them chiefly by omitting nothing that conduces to a perpetual remembrance of them, and giving a reasonable portion of his fortune to the dead. Doing this, and living after this manner, we shall receive our reward from the Gods and those who are above us [i.e., the demons] ; and we shall spend our days for the most part in good hope. And how a man ought to order what relates to his descendants and his kindred and friends and fellow-citizens, and the rites of hospitality taught by Heaven, and the intercourse which arises out of all these duties, with a view to the embellishment and orderly regulation of his own life — these things, I say, the laws, as we proceed with them, will accomplish, partly persuading, and partly when natures do not yield to the persuasion of custom, chastising them by might and right, and will thus render our state, if the Gods co-operate with us, prosperous and happy. But of what has to be said, and must be said by the legislator who is of my way of thinking, and yet, if said in the form of law, would be out of place — of this I think that he may give a sample for the instruction of himself and of those for whom he is legislating ; and then when, as far as he is able, he has gone through all the preliminaries, he may proceed to the work of legislation. Now, what will be the form of such prefaces ? There may be a difficulty in including or describing them all under a single form, but I think that we may get some notion of them if we can guarantee one thing. LAWS BOOK IV

Now, what lives are they, and how many in which, having searched out and beheld the objects of will and desire and their opposites, and making of them a law, choosing, I say, the dear and the pleasant and the best and noblest, a man may live in the happiest way possible ? Let us say that the temperate life is one kind of life, and the rational another, and the courageous another, and the healthful another ; and to these four let us oppose four other lives — the foolish, the cowardly, the intemperate, the diseased. He who knows the temperate life will describe it as in all things gentle, having gentle pains and gentle pleasures, and placid desires and loves not insane ; whereas the intemperate life is impetuous in all things, and has violent pains and pleasures, and vehement and stinging desires, and loves utterly insane ; and in the temperate life the pleasures exceed the pains, but in the intemperate life the pains exceed the pleasures in greatness and number and frequency. Hence one of the two lives is naturally and necessarily more pleasant and the other more painful, and he who would live pleasantly cannot possibly choose to live intemperately. And if this is true, the inference clearly is that no man is voluntarily intemperate ; but that the whole multitude of men lack temperance in their lives, either from ignorance, or from want of self-control, or both. And the same holds of the diseased and healthy life ; they both have pleasures and pains, but in health the pleasure exceeds the pain, and in sickness the pain exceeds the pleasure. Now our intention in choosing the lives is not that the painful should exceed, but the life in which pain is exceeded by pleasure we have determined to be the more pleasant life. And we should say that the temperate life has the elements both of pleasure and pain fewer and smaller and less frequent than the intemperate, and the wise life than the foolish life, and the life of courage than the life of cowardice ; one of each pair exceeding in pleasure and the other in pain, the courageous surpassing the cowardly, and the wise exceeding the foolish. And so the one dass of lives exceeds the other class in pleasure ; the temperate and courageous and wise and healthy exceed the cowardly and foolish and intemperate and diseased lives ; and generally speaking, that which has any virtue, whether of body or soul, is pleasanter than the vicious life, and far superior in beauty and rectitude and excellence and reputation, and causes him who lives accordingly to be infinitely happier than the opposite. LAWS BOOK V

Ath. I had in my mind the free and easy manner in which we are ordaining that the inexperienced colonists shall receive our laws. Now a man need not be very wise, Cleinias, in order to see that no one can easily receive laws at their first imposition. But if we could anyhow wait until those who have been imbued with them from childhood, and have been nurtured in them, and become habituated to them, take their part in the public elections of the state ; I say, if this could be accomplished, and rightly accomplished by any way or contrivance — then, I think that there would be very little danger, at the end of the time, of a state thus trained not being permanent. LAWS BOOK VI

Ath. O, Cleinias, Athens is proud, and Sparta too ; and they are both a long way off. But you and likewise the other colonists are conveniently situated as you describe. I have been speaking of the way in which the new citizens may be best managed under present circumstances ; but in after-ages, if the city continues to exist, let the election be on this wise. All who are horse or foot soldiers, or have seen military service at the proper ages when they were severally fitted for it, shall share in the election of magistrates ; and the election shall be held in whatever temple the state deems most venerable, and every one shall carry his vote to the altar of the God, writing down on a tablet the name of the person for whom he votes, and his father’s name, and his tribe, and ward ; and at the side he shall write his own name in like manner. Any one who pleases may take away any tablet which he does not think properly filled up, and exhibit it in the Agara for a period of not less than thirty days. The tablets which are judged to be first, to the number of 300, shall be shown by the magistrates to the whole city, and the citizens shall in like manner select from these the candidates whom they prefer ; and this second selection, to the number of 100, shall be again exhibited to the citizens ; in the third, let any one who pleases select whom pleases out of the 100, walking through the parts of victims, and let them choose for magistrates and proclaim the seven and thirty who have the greatest number of votes. But who, Cleinias and Megillus, will order for us in the colony all this matter of the magistrates, and the scrutinies of them ? If we reflect, we shall see that cities which are in process of construction like ours must have some such persons, who cannot possibly be elected before there are any magistrates ; and yet they must be elected in some way, and they are not to be inferior men, but the best possible. For as the proverb says, "a good beginning is half the business" ; and "to have begun well" is praised by all, and in my opinion is a great deal more than half the business, and has never been praised by any one enough. LAWS BOOK VI

Ath. I thank you. We will say to him who is born of good parents — O my son, you ought to make such a marriage as wise men would approve. Now they would advise you neither to avoid a poor marriage, nor specially to desire a rich one ; but if other things are equal, always to honour inferiors, and with them to form connections ; — this will be for the benefit of the city and of the families which are united ; for the equable and symmetrical tends infinitely more to virtue than the unmixed. And he who is conscious of being too headstrong, and carried away more than is fitting in all his actions, ought to desire to become the relation of orderly parents ; and he who is of the opposite temper ought to seek the opposite alliance. Let there be one word concerning all marriages : — Every man shall follow, not after the marriage which is most pleasing to himself, but after that which is most beneficial to the state. For somehow every one is by nature prone to that which is likest to himself, and in this way the whole city becomes unequal in property and in disposition ; and hence there arise in most states the very results which we least desire to happen. Now, to add to the law an express provision, not only that the rich man shall not marry into the rich family, nor the powerful into the family of the powerful, but that the slower natures shall be compelled to enter into marriage with the quicker, and the quicker with the slower, may awaken anger as well as laughter in the minds of many ; for there is a difficulty in perceiving that the city ought to be well mingled like a cup, in which the maddening wine is hot and fiery, but when chastened by a soberer God, receives a fair associate and becomes an excellent and temperate drink. Yet in marriage no one is able to see that the same result occurs. Wherefore also the law must let alone such matters, but we should try to charm the spirits of men into believing the equability of their children’s disposition to be of more importance than equality in excessive fortune when they marry ; and him who is too desirous of making a rich marriage we should endeavour to turn aside by reproaches, not, however, by any compulsion of written law. LAWS BOOK VI

Ath. And I do not faint ; I say, indeed, that we have a great many poets writing in hexameter, trimeter, and all sorts of measures — some who are serious, others who aim only at raising a laugh — and all mankind declare that the youth who are rightly educated should be brought up in them and saturated with them ; some insist that they should be constantly hearing them read aloud, and always learning them, so as to get by heart entire poets ; while others select choice passages and long speeches, and make compendiums of them, saying that these ought to be committed to memory, if a man is to be made good and wise by experience and learning of many things. And you want me now to tell them plainly in what they are right and in what they are wrong. LAWS BOOK VII

Ath. I think that I am not wholly in want of a pattern, for when I consider the words which we have spoken from early dawn until now, and which, as I believe, have been inspired by Heaven, they appear to me to be quite like a poem. When I reflected upon all these words of ours. I naturally felt pleasure, for of all the discourses which I have ever learnt or heard, either in poetry or prose, this seemed to me to be the justest, and most suitable for young men to hear ; I cannot imagine any better pattern than this which the guardian of the law who is also the director of education can have. He cannot do better than advise the teachers to teach the young these words and any which are of a like nature, if he should happen to find them, either in poetry or prose, or if he come across unwritten discourses akin to ours, he should certainly preserve them, and commit them to writing. And, first of all, he shall constrain the teachers themselves to learn and approve them, and any of them who will not, shall not be employed by him, but those whom he finds agreeing in his judgment, he shall make use of and shall commit to them the instruction and education of youth. And here and on this wise let my fanciful tale about letters and teachers of letters come to an end. LAWS BOOK VII

Now the participation of fruits shall be ordered on this wise. The goddess of Autumn has two gracious gifts : one, the joy of Dionysus which is not treasured up ; the other, which nature intends to be stored. Let this be the law, then, concerning the fruits of autumn : He who tastes the common or storing fruits of autumn, whether grapes or figs, before the season of vintage which coincides with Arcturus, either on his own land or on that of others — let him pay fifty drachmae, which shall be sacred to Dionysus, if he pluck them from his own land ; and if from his neighbour’s land, a mina, and if from any others’, two-thirds of a mina. And he who would gather the "choice" grapes or the "choice" figs, as they are now termed, if he take them off his own land, let him pluck them how and when he likes ; but if he take them from the ground of others without their leave, let him in that case be always punished in accordance with the law which ordains that he should not move what he has not laid down. And if a slave touches any fruit of this sort, without the consent of the owner of the land, he shall be beaten with as many blows as there are grapes on the bunch, or figs on the fig-tree. Let a metic purchase the "choice" autumnal fruit, and then, if he pleases, he may gather it ; but if a stranger is passing along the road, and desires to eat, let him take of the "choice" grapes for himself and a single follower without payment, as a tribute of hospitality. The law however forbids strangers from sharing in the sort which is not used for eating ; and if any one, whether he be master or slave, takes of them in ignorance, let the slave be beaten, and the freeman dismissed with admonitions, and instructed to take of the other autumnal fruits which are unfit for making raisins and wine, or for laying by as dried figs. As to pears, and apples, and pomegranates, and similar fruits, there shall be no disgrace in taking them secretly ; but he who is caught, if he be of less than thirty years of age, shall be struck and beaten off, but not wounded ; and no freeman shall have any right of satisfaction for such blows. Of these fruits the stranger may partake, just as he may of the fruits of autumn. And if an elder, who is more than thirty years of age, eat of them on the spot, let him, like the stranger, be allowed to partake of all such fruits, but he must carry away nothing. If, however, he will not obey the law, let him run risk of failing in the competition of virtue, in case any one takes notice of his actions before the judges at the time. LAWS BOOK VIII

Ath. And is it disgraceful for Homer and Tyrtaeus and other poets to lay down evil precepts in their writings respecting life and the pursuits of men, but not so disgraceful for Lycurgus and Solon and others who were legislators as well as writers ? Is it not true that of all the writings to be found in cities, those which relate to laws, when you unfold and read them, ought to be by far the noblest and the best ? and should not other writings either agree with them, or if they disagree, be deemed ridiculous ? We should consider whether the laws of states ought not to have the character of loving and wise parents, rather than of tyrants and masters, who command and threaten, and, after writing their decrees on walls, go their ways ; and whether, in discoursing of laws, we should not take the gentler view of them which may or may not be attainable — at any rate, we will show our readiness to entertain such a view, and be prepared to undergo whatever may be the result. And may the result be good, and if God be gracious, it will be good ! LAWS BOOK IX

Ath. Let us proceed : — If any one slays a free man with his own hand, and the deed be done in a moment of anger, and without premeditation, let the offender suffer in other respects as the involuntary homicide would have suffered, and also undergo an exile of two years, that he may learn to school his passions. But he who slays another from passion, yet with premeditation, shall in other respects suffer as the former ; and to this shall be added an exile of three instead of two years — his punishment is to be longer because his passion is greater. The manner of their return shall be on this wise : (and here the law has difficulty in determining exactly ; for in some cases the murderer who is judged by the law to be the worse may really be the less cruel, and he who is judged the less cruel may be really the worse, and may have executed the murder in a more savage manner, whereas the other may have been gentler. But in general the degrees of guilt will be such as we have described them. Of all these things the guardians of the law must take cognisance) : — When a homicide of either kind has completed his term of exile, the guardians shall send twelve judges to the borders of the land ; these during the interval shall have informed themselves of the actions of the criminals, and they shall judge respecting their pardon and reception ; and the homicides shall abide by their judgment. But if after they have returned home, any one of them in a moment of anger repeats the deed, let him be an exile, and return no more ; or if he returns, let him suffer as the stranger was to suffer in a similar case. He who kills his own slave shall undergo a purification, but if he kills the slave of another in anger, he shall pay twice the amount of the loss to his owner. And if any homicide is disobedient to the law, and without purification pollutes the agora, or the games, or the temples, he who pleases may bring to trial the next of kin to the dead man for permitting him, and the murderer with him, and may compel the one to exact and the other to suffer a double amount of fines and purifications ; and the accuser shall himself receive the fine in accordance with the law. If a slave in a fit of passion kills his master, the kindred of the deceased man may do with the murderer (provided only they do not spare his life) whatever they please, and they will be pure ; or if he kills a freeman, who is not his master, the owner shall give up the slave to the relatives of the deceased, and they shall be under an obligation to put him to death, but this may be done in any manner which they please. LAWS BOOK IX

Laws are partly framed for the sake of good men, in order to instruct them how they thay live on friendly terms with one another, and partly for the sake of those who refuse to be instructed, whose spirit cannot be subdued, or softened, or hindered from plunging into evil. These are the persons who cause the word to be spoken which I am about to utter ; for them the legislator legislates of necessity, and in the hope that there may be no need of his laws. He who shall dare to lay violent hands upon his father or mother, or any still older relative, having no fear either of the wrath of the Gods above, or of the punishments that are spoken of in the world below, but transgresses in contempt of ancient and universal traditions as though he were too wise to believe in them, requires some extreme measure of prevention. Now death is not the worst that can happen to men ; far worse are the punishments which are said to pursue them in the world below. But although they are most true tales, they work on such souls no prevention ; for if they had any effect there would be no slayers of mothers, or impious hands lifted up against parents ; and therefore the punishments of this world which are inflicted during life ought not in such cases to fall short, if possible, of the terrors of the world below. Let our enactment then be as follows : — If a man dare to strike his father or his mother, or their fathers or mothers, he being at the time of sound mind, then let any one who is at hand come to the rescue as has been already said, and the metic or stranger who comes to the rescue shall be called to the first place in the games ; but if he do not come he shall suffer the punishment of perpetual exile. He who is not a metic, if he comes to the rescue, shall have praise, and if he do not come, blame. And if a slave come to the rescue, let him be made free, but if he do not come the rescue, let him receive 100 strokes of the whip, by order of the wardens of the agora, if the occurrence take place in the agora ; or if somewhere in the city beyond the limits of the agora, any warden of the city is in residence shall punish him ; or if in the country, then the commanders of the wardens of the country. If those who are near at the time be inhabitants of the same place, whether they be youths, or men, or women, let them come to the rescue and denounce him as the impious one ; and he who does not come to the rescue shall fall under the curse of Zeus, the God of kindred and of ancestors, according to law. And if any one is found guilty of assaulting a parent, let him in the first place be for ever banished from the city into the country, and let him abstain from the temples ; and if he do not abstain, the wardens of the country shall punish him with blows, or in any way which they please, and if he return he shall be put to death. And if any freeman eat or drink, or have any other sort of intercourse with him, or only meeting him have voluntarily touched him, he shall not enter into any temple, nor into the agora, nor into the city, until he is purified ; for he should consider that he has become tainted by a curse. And if he disobeys the law, and pollutes the city and the temples contrary to law, and one of the magistrates sees him and does not indict him, when he gives in his account this omission shall be a most serious charge. LAWS BOOK IX

Ath. In the first place, my dear friend, these people would say that the Gods exist not by nature, but by art, and by the laws of states, which are different in different places, according to the agreement of those who make them ; and that the honourable is one thing by nature and another thing by law, and that the principles of justice have no existence at all in nature, but that mankind are always disputing about them and altering them ; and that the alterations which are made by art and by law have no basis in nature, but are of authority for the moment and at the time at which they are made. — These, my friends, are the sayings of wise men, poets and prose writers, which find a way into the minds of youth. They are told by them that the highest right is might, and in this way the young fall into impieties, under the idea that the Gods are not such as the law bids them imagine ; and hence arise factions, these philosophers inviting them to lead a true life according to nature, that is, to live in real dominion over others, and not in legal subjection to them. LAWS BOOK X

Any one who is of sound mind may arrest his own slave, and do with him whatever he will of such things as are lawful ; and he may arrest the runaway slave of any of his friends or kindred with a view to his safe-keeping. And if any one takes away him who is being carried off as a slave, intending to liberate him, he who is carrying him off shall let him go ; but he who takes him away shall give three sufficient sureties ; and if he give them, and not without giving them, he may take him away, but if he take him away after any other manner he shall be deemed guilty of violence, and being convicted shall pay as a penalty double the amount of the damages claimed to him who has been deprived of the slave. Any man may also carry off a freedman, if he do not pay respect or sufficient respect to him who freed him. Now the respect shall be, that the freedman go three times in the month to the hearth of the person who freed him and offer to do whatever he ought, so far as he can ; and he shall agree to make such a marriage as his former master approves. He shall not be permitted to have more property than he who gave him liberty, and what more he has shall belong to his master. The freedman shall not remain in the state more than twenty years, but like other foreigners shall go away, taking his entire property with him, unless he has the consent of the magistrates and of his former master to remain. If a freedman or any other stranger has a property greater than the census of the third class, at the expiration. of thirty days from the day on which this comes to pass, he shall take that which is his and go his way, and in this case he shall not be allowed to remain any longer by the magistrates. And if any one disobeys this regulation, and is brought into court and convicted, he shall be punished with death, his property shall be confiscated. Suits about these matters shall take place before the tribes, unless the plaintiff and defendant have got rid of the accusation either before their neighbours or before judges chosen by them. If a man lay claim to any animal or anything else which he declares to be his, let the possessor refer to the seller or to some honest and trustworthy person, who has given, or in some legitimate way made over the property to him ; if he be a citizen or a metic, sojourning in the city, within thirty days, or, if the property have been delivered to him by a stranger, within five months, of which the middle month shall include the summer solstice. When goods are exchanged by selling and buying, a man shall deliver them, and receive the price of them, at a fixed place in the agora, and have done with the matter ; but he shall not buy or sell anywhere else, nor give credit. And if in any other manner or in any other place there be an exchange of one thing for another, and the seller give credit to the man who buys fram him, he must do this on the understanding that the law gives no protection in cases of things sold not in accordance with these regulations. Again, as to contributions, any man who likes may go about collecting contributions as a friend among friends, but if any difference arises about the collection, he is to act on the understanding that the law gives no protection in such cases. He who sells anything above the value of fifty drachmas shall be required to remain in the city for ten days, and the purchaser shall be informed of the house of the seller, with a view to the sort of charges which are apt to arise in such cases, and the restitutions which the law allows. And let legal restitution be on this wise : — If a man sells a slave who is in a consumption, or who has the disease of the stone, or of strangury, or epilepsy, or some other tedious and incurable disorder of body or mind, which is not discernible to the ordinary man, if the purchaser be a physician or trainer, he shall have no right of restitution ; nor shall there be any right of restitution if the seller has told the truth beforehand to the buyer. But if a skilled person sells to another who is not skilled, let the buyer appeal for restitution within six months, except in the case of epilepsy, and then the appeal may be made within a year. The cause shall be determined by such physicians as the parties may agree to choose ; and the defendant, if he lose the suit, shall pay double the price at which he sold. If a private person sell to another private person, he shall have the right of restitution, and the decision shall be given as before, but the defendant, if he be cast, shall only pay back the price of the slave. If a person sells a homicide to another, and they both know of the fact, let there be no restitution in such a case, but if he do not know of the fact, there shall be a right of restitution, whenever the buyer makes the discovery ; and the decision shall rest with the five youngest guardians of the law, and if the decision be that the seller was cognisant the fact, he shall purify the house of the purchaser, according to the law of the interpreters, and shall pay back three times the purchase-money. LAWS BOOK XI

Athenian Stranger. In this way : In the first place, our spectator shall be of not less than fifty years of age ; he must be a man of reputation, especially in war, if he is to exhibit to other cities a model of the guardians of the law, but when he is more than sixty years of age he shall no longer continue in his office of spectator, And when he has carried on his inspection during as many out of the ten years of his office as he pleases, on his return home let him go to the assembly of those who review the laws. This shall be a mixed body of young and old men, who shall be required to meet daily between the hour of dawn and the rising of the sun. They shall consist, in the first place, of the priests who have obtained the rewards of virtue ; and in the second place, of guardians of the law, the ten eldest being chosen ; the general superintendent of education shall also be member, as well the last appointed as those who have been released from the office ; and each of them shall take with him as his companion young man, whomsoever he chooses, between the ages of thirty and forty. These shall be always holding conversation and discourse about the laws of their own city or about any specially good ones which they may hear to be existing elsewhere ; also about kinds of knowledge which may appear to be of use and will throw light upon the examination, or of which the want will make the subject of laws dark and uncertain to them. Any knowledge of this sort which the elders approve, the younger men shall learn with all diligence ; and if any one of those who have been invited appear to be unworthy, the whole assembly shall blame him who invited him. The rest of the city shall watch over those among the young men who distinguish themselves, having an eye upon them, and especially honouring them if they succeed, but dishonouring them above the rest if they turn out to be inferior. This is the assembly to which he who has visited the institutions of other men, on his return home shall straightway go, and if he have discovered any one who has anything to say about the enactment of laws or education or nurture, or if he have himself made any observations, let him communicate his discoveries to the whole assembly. And if he be seen to have come home neither better nor worse, let him be praised at any rate for his enthusiasm ; and if he be much better, let him be praised so much the more ; and not only while he lives but after his death let the assembly honour him with fitting honours. But if on his return home he appear to have been corrupted, pretending to be wise when he is not, let him hold no communication with any one, whether young or old ; and if he will hearken to the rulers, then he shall be permitted to live as a private individual ; but if he will not, let him die, if he be convicted in a court of law of interfering about education and the laws, And if he deserve to be indicted, and none of the magistrates indict him, let that be counted as a disgrace to them when the rewards of virtue are decided. LAWS BOOK XII

Let such be the character of the person who goes abroad, and let him go abroad under these conditions. In the next place, the stranger who comes from abroad should be received in a friendly spirit. Now there are four kinds of strangers, of whom we must make some mention — the first is he who comes and stays throughout the summer ; this class are like birds of passage, taking wing in pursuit of commerce, and flying over the sea to other cities, while the season lasts ; he shall be received in market-places and harbours and public buildings, near the city but outside, by those magistrates who are appointed to superintend these matters ; and they shall take care that a stranger, whoever he be, duly receives justice ; but he shall not be allowed to make any innovation. They shall hold the intercourse with him which is necessary, and this shall be as little as possible. The second kind is just a spectator who comes to see with his eyes and hear with his ears the festivals of the Muses ; such ought to have entertainment provided them at the temples by hospitable persons, and the priests and ministers of the temples should see and attend to them. But they should not remain more than a reasonable time ; let them see and hear that for the sake of which they came, and then go away, neither having suffered nor done any harm. The priests shall be their judges, if any of them receive or do any wrong up to the sum of fifty drachmae, but if any greater charge be brought, in such cases the suit shall come before the wardens of the agora. The third kind of stranger is he who comes on some public business from another land, and is to be received with public honours. He is to be received only by the generals and commanders of horse and foot, and the host by whom he is entertained, in conjunction with the Prytanes, shall have the sole charge of what concerns him. There is a fourth dass of persons answering to our spectators, who come from another land to look at ours. In the first place, such visits will be rare, and the visitor should be at least fifty years of age ; he may possibly be wanting to see something that is rich and rare in other states, or himself to show something in like manner to another city. Let such an one, then, go unbidden to the doors of the wise and rich, being one of them himself : let him go, for example, to the house of the superintendent of education, confident that he is a fitting guest of such a host, or let him go to the house of some of those who have gained the prize of virtue and hold discourse with them, both learning from them, and also teaching them ; and when he has seen and heard all, he shall depart, as a friend taking leave of friends, and be honoured by them with gifts and suitable tributes of respect. These are the customs, according to which our city should receive all strangers of either sex who come from other countries, and should send forth her own citizens, showing respect to Zeus, the God of hospitality, not forbidding strangers at meals and sacrifices, as is the manner which prevails among the children of the Nile, nor driving them away by savage proclamations. LAWS BOOK XII

Ath. Ask me what is that one thing which call virtue, and then again speak of as two, one part being courage and the other wisdom. I will tell you how that occurs : — One of them has to do with fear ; in this the beasts also participate, and quite young children — I mean courage ; for a courageous temper is a gift of nature and not of reason. But without reason there never has been, or is, or will be a wise and understanding soul ; it is of a different nature. LAWS BOOK XII

Ath. Do we not see that the city is the trunk, and are not the younger guardians, who are chosen for their natural gifts, placed in the head of the state, having their souls all full of eyes, with which they look about the whole city ? They keep watch and hand over their perceptions to the memory, and inform the elders of all that happens in the city ; and those whom we compared to the mind, because they have many wise thoughts — that is to say, the old men — take counsel and making use of the younger men as their ministers, and advising with them — in this way both together truly preserve the whole state : — Shall this or some other be the order of our state ? Are all our citizens to be equal in acquirements, or shall there be special persons among them who have received a more careful training and education ? LAWS BOOK XII

[973a] Cleinias : True to our agreement, good sir, we have come all three — you and I and Megillus here — to consider in what terms we ought to describe that part of understanding which we say produces, when it so intends, the most excellent disposition of the human being for wisdom which is possible for man. For we claim that we have described all the other matters [973b] connected with law-giving ; but the most important thing for us to discover and state — what it is that mortal man should learn in order to be wise — this we have neither stated nor discovered. Let us, however, now try to make good this defect : else we shall practically leave incomplete the quest on which we all set out, with the purpose of making our subject clear from beginning to end. EPINOMIS   BOOK XII

And what, pray, is my evidence for this ? It is that such is the nature of the matter now under inquiry [974b] in our discussion. We are inquiring, you know, in what way we shall become wise, presuming that each of us has this power in some sort or other : but it evades and escapes us as soon as we attempt any knowledge of reputed arts or knowledges or any of the ordinary sciences, as we suppose them to be ; for none of them is worthy to be called by the title of the wisdom that pertains to these human affairs. Yet the soul firmly believes and divines that in some fashion she has it, [974c] but what it is that she has, or when, or how, she is quite unable to discover. Is not this a fair picture of our puzzle about wisdom and the inquiry that we have to make — a greater one than any of us could expect who are found able to examine ourselves and others intelligently and consistently by every kind and manner of argument ? Is the case not so, or shall we agree that so it is ? EPINOMIS BOOK XII

Athenian : Then first we must go through the other sciences, which are reputed as such, but do not render him wise who acquires and possesses them ; in order that, having put them out of the way, we may try to bring forward those that we require, and having brought them forward, to learn them.First, therefore, let us observe that while the sciences which are first needs of the human race [974e] are about the most necessary and truly the first, yet he who acquires a knowledge of them, though in the beginning he may have been regarded as wise in some sort, is now not reputed wise at all, but rather incurs reproach [975a] by the knowledge he has got. Now we must mention what they are, and that almost everyone who makes it his aim to be thought likely to prove himself in the end as good a man as possible avoids them, in order to gain the acquirements of understanding and study. So first let us take the practice among animate beings of eating each other, which, as the story goes, has made us refrain entirely from some, while it has settled us in the lawful eating of others. May the men of old time be gracious to us, as they are : for we must take our leave of whatever men were the first of those we were just mentioning ; but at any rate [975b] the making of barley-meal and flour, with the sustenance thereof, is noble and good indeed, yet it is never like to produce a perfectly wise man. For this very name of making must produce an irksomeness in the actual things that are made. Nor can it well be husbandry of land in general : for it is not by art but by a natural gift from Heaven, it seems, that we all have the earth put into our hands. Nor again is it the fabrication of dwellings and building in general, nor the production of all sorts of appliances — smiths’ work, [975c] and the supply of carpenters’, moulders’, plaiters’, and, in fine, all kinds of implements ; for this is of advantage to the public, but is not accounted for virtue. Nor again the whole practice of hunting, which although grown extensive and a matter of skilled art, gives no return of magnificence with its wisdom. Nor surely can it be divination or interpretation as a whole ; for these only know what is said, but have not learnt whether it be true. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

And now that we see that the acquisition of necessaries [975d] is achieved by means of art, but that no such art makes any man wise, there may be some diversion remaining after this — imitative for the most part, but in no way serious. For they imitate with many instruments, and with many imitative acts, not altogether seemly, of their very bodies, in performances both of speech and of every Muse, and in those whereof painting is mother, and whereby many and most various designs are elaborated in many sorts, moist and dry ; and though a man ply his craft in these with the greatest zeal, in nothing is he rendered wise by imitation. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

[976a] And that which they call medicine is likewise, of course, an assistance in almost every case towards things of which animal nature is deprived by seasons of untimely cold and heat and all such visitations. But none of these is of high repute for the truest wisdom : for they are borne along by opinion, as inaccurate matter of conjecture. We may, I suppose, speak of pilots and sailors alike as giving assistance : yet you shall not report, to appease us, a single wise man from amongst them all ; for a man cannot know [976b] the wrath or amity of the wind, a desirable thing for all piloting. Nor again all those who say they can give assistance in law suits by their powers of speech, men who by memory and exercise of opinion pay attention to human character, but are far astray from the truth of what is really just. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

There still remains, as a claimant to the name of wisdom, a certain strange power, which most people would call a natural gift rather than wisdom, appearing when one perceives someone learning this or that lesson with ease, or remembering a great many things [976c] securely ; or when one recalls what is suitable to each person, what should properly be done, and does it quickly. Some people will describe all this as nature, others as wisdom, and others as a natural readiness of mind : but no sensible person will ever call a man really wise for any of these gifts. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

But surely there must be found some science, the possession of which will cause the wisdom of him who is really wise and not wise merely in men’s opinion. Well, let us see : for in this laborious discussion we are trying our hardest to find some other science, [976d] apart from those we have mentioned, which can really and reasonably be termed wisdom ; such an acquirement as will not make one a mean and witless drudge, but will enable one to be a wise and good citizen, at once a just ruler and subject of his city, and decorous. So let us examine this one first, and see what single science it is of those that we now have which, by removing itself or being absent from human nature, must render mankind the most thoughtless and senseless of creatures. [976e] Well, there is no great difficulty in making that out. For if there is one more than another, so to speak, which will do this, it is the science which gave number to the whole race of mortals ; and I believe God rather than some chance gave it to us, and so preserves us. And I must explain who it is that I believe to be God, though he be a strange one, and somehow not strange either : for why should we not believe [977a] the cause of all the good things that are ours to have been the cause also of what is far the greatest, understanding ? And who is it that I magnify with the name of God, Megillus and Cleinias ? Merely Heaven, which it is most our duty to honor and pray to especially, as do all other spirits and gods. That it has been the cause of all the other good things we have, we shall all admit ; that it likewise gave us number we do really say, and that it will give us this hereafter, if we will but follow its lead. [977b] For if one enters on the right theory about it, whether one be pleased to call it World-order or Olympus or Heaven — let one call it this or that, but follow where, in bespangling itself and turning the stars that it contains, it produces all their courses and the seasons and food for all. And thence, accordingly, we have understanding in general, we may say, and therewith all number, and all other good things : but the greatest of these is when, after receiving its gift of numbers, one has covered the whole circuit. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

Moreover, let us turn back some little way in our discussion [977c] and recall how entirely right we were in conceiving that if we should deprive human nature of number we should never attain to any understanding. For then the soul of that creature which could not tell things would never any more be able, one may say, to attain virtue in general ; and the creature that did not know two and three, or odd or even, and was completely ignorant of number, could never clearly tell of things about which it had only acquired sensations and memories. From the attainment of ordinary virtue — [977d] courage and temperance — it is certainly not debarred : but if a man is deprived of true telling he can never become wise, and he who has not the acquirement of wisdom — the greatest part of virtue as a whole — can no more achieve the perfect goodness which may make him happy. Thus it is absolutely necessary to postulate number ; and why this is necessary can be shown by a still fuller argument than any that has been advanced. But here is one that will be particularly correct — that of the properties of the other arts, which we recounted just now in granting the existence of all the arts, [977e] not a single one can remain, but all of them are utterly defective, when once you remove numeration. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

Now in our inquiry about laws, you know we decided that all other things that are best for men are easy to discover, and that everyone may become competent both to understand and to perform what he is told, if he discovers what is that which is likely to profit him, and what is not profitable : well, we decided, and we are still of the same mind, that all other studies [979c] are not very difficult, but that this of learning in what way we should become good men is one of the utmost difficulty. Everything else, again, that is good, as they say, is both possible and not difficult to acquire, and the amount of property that is wanted or not wanted, and the kind of body that is wanted or not : everyone agrees that a good soul is wanted, and agrees, moreover, as to the manner of its goodness, that for this again it must be just and temperate and brave ; but whereas everyone says it must be wise, no one any longer agrees at all with anyone else, in most cases — we have just now [979d] explained — as to what its wisdom should be. So now we are discovering, besides all those former kinds, a wisdom of no mean worth for this very purpose of showing how he is wise who has learnt the things that we have explained. And if he is wise who has knowledge of these things and is good at them, we must now take account of him. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

[980a] Athenian : Thank you. To begin with, then, we must necessarily state first, it would seem best of all, in a single word, if we are able so to put it — what is that which we suppose to be wisdom ; but if we are utterly unable to do this, we must say in the second place what and how many kinds of it there are that a man must have acquired, if he is to be wise according to our story. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

And indeed there is much good reason to suppose that formerly, [988c] when men had their first conceptions of how the gods came to exist and with what qualities, and whence, and to what kind of actions they proceeded, they were spoken of in a manner not approved or welcomed by the wise, nor were even the views of those who came later, among whom the greatest dignity was given to fire and water and the other elements, while the wonderful soul was accounted inferior ; and higher and more honored with them was a motion assigned to the body for moving itself by heat and chills and everything of that kind, [988d] instead of that which the soul had for moving both the body and itself. But now that we account it no marvel that the soul, once it is in the body, should stir and move about this and itself, neither does our soul on any reckoning mistrust her power of moving about any weight. And therefore, since we now claim that, as the soul is cause of the whole, and all good things are causes of like things, while on the other hand evil things are causes of other things like them, it is no marvel [988e] that soul should be cause of all motion and stirring — that the motion and stirring towards the good are the function of the best soul, and those to the opposite are the opposite — it must be that good things have conquered and conquer things that are not their like. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

All this we have stated in accordance with justice, which wreaks vengeance on the impious : but now, as regards the matter under examination, it is not possible for us to disbelieve that we must deem the good man [989a] to be wise ; and let us see if we may perhaps be able, either by education or by art, to perceive this wisdom which we have all this while been seeking ; for if we fall behind the just in failing to know it, our condition will be that of ignorant persons. Such, then, seems our case to me, and I must say so : for I have sought this wisdom high and low, and so far as it has been revealed to me I will try to render it plain to you. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

For never, without these lessons, will any nature be happy in our cities : no, this is the way, this the nurture, these the studies, whether difficult or easy, this the path to pursue : to neglect the gods is not permissible, when it has been made manifest that the fame of them, stated in proper terms, hits the mark. [992b] And the man who has acquired all these things in this manner is he whom I account the most truly wisest : of him I also assert, both in jest and in earnest, that when one of his like completes his allotted span at death, I would say if he still be dead, he will not partake any more of the various sensations then as he does now, but having alone partaken of a single lot and having become one out of many, will be happy and at the same time most wise and blessed, whether one has a blessed life in continents or in islands ; and that such a man will partake [992c] always of the like fortune, and whether his life is spent in a public or in a private practice of these studies he will get the same treatment, in just the same manner, from the gods. EPINOMIS BOOK XII

I hear from Archedemus that you think that not only I myself should keep quiet but my friends also from doing or saying anything bad about you ; and that "you except Dion only." [2.310c] Now your saying this, that Dion is excepted, implies that I have no control over my friends ; for had I had this control over you and Dion, as well as the rest, more blessings would have come to us all and to the rest of the Greeks also, as I affirm. But as it is, my greatness consists in making myself follow my own instructions. However, I do not say this as though what Cratistolus and Polyxenus have told you is to be trusted ; for it is said that [2.310d] one of these men declares that at Olympia he heard quite a number of my companions maligning you. No doubt his hearing is more acute than mine ; for I certainly heard no such thing. For the future, whenever anyone makes such a statement about any of us, what you ought, I think, to do is to send me a letter of inquiry ; for I shall tell the truth without scruple or shame. Now as for you and me, the relation in which we stand towards each other is really this. There is not a single Greek, one may say, to whom we are unknown, and our intercourse is a matter of common talk ; [2.310e] and you may be sure of this, that it will be common talk also in days to come, because so many have heard tell of it owing to its duration and its publicity. What, now, is the point of this remark ? I will go back to the beginning and tell you. It is natural for wisdom and great power to come together, and they are for ever pursuing and seeking each other and consorting together. Moreover, these are qualities which people delight in discussing themselves in private conversation and hearing others discuss [2.311a] in their poems. For example, when men talk about Hiero or about Pausanias the Lacedaemonian they delight to bring in their meeting with Simonides and what he did and said to them ; and they are wont to harp on Periander of Corinth and Thales of Miletus, and on Pericles and Anaxagoras, and on Croesus also and Solon as wise men with Cyrus as potentate. The poets, too, follow their example, and bring together Creon and Tiresias, [2.311b] Polyeidus and Minos, Agamemnon and Nestor, Odysseus and Palamedes ; and so it was, I suppose, that the earliest men also brought together Prometheus and Zeus. And of these some were — as the poets tell — at feud with each other, and others were friends ; while others again were now friends and now foes, and partly in agreement and partly in disagreement. Now my object in saying all this is to make it clear, that when we ourselves die [2.311c] men’s talk about us will not likewise be silenced ; so that we must be careful about it. We must necessarily, it seems, have a care also for the future, seeing that, by some law of nature, the most slavish men pay no regard to it, whereas the most upright do all they can to ensure that they shall be well spoken of in the future. Now I count this as a proof that the dead have some perception of things here on earth ; for the best souls divine that this is so, [2.311d] while the worst deny it ; and the divinings of men who are godlike are of more authority than those of men who are not. I certainly think that, had it been in their power to rectify what was wrong in their intercourse, those men of the past whom I have mentioned would have striven to the utmost to ensure a better report of themselves than they now have. In our case, then — if God so grant — it still remains possible to put right whatever has been amiss in word or deed during our intercourse in the past. For I maintain that, as regards [2.311e] the true philosophy, men will think and speak well of it if we ourselves are upright, and ill if we are base. And in truth we could do nothing more pious than to give attention to this matter, nothing more impious than to disregard it. How this result should be brought about, and what is the just course to pursue, I will now explain. I came to Sicily with the reputation of being by far the most eminent of those engaged in philosophy ; and I desired, on my arrival [2.312a] in Syracuse, to gain your testimony as well, in order that I might get philosophy held in honor even by the multitude. In this, however, I was disappointed. But the reason I give for this is not that which is commonly given ; rather it was because you showed that you did not fully trust me but wished rather to get rid of me somehow and invite others in my place ; and owing, as I believe, to your distrust of me, you showed yourself inquisitive as to what my business was. Thereupon it was proclaimed aloud by many that you utterly despised me [2.312b] and were devoted to other affairs. This certainly was the story noised abroad. And now I will tell you what it is right to do after this, that so I may reply also to your question how you and I ought to behave towards each other. If you altogether despise philosophy, leave it alone. If, again, you have been taught by someone else or have yourself invented better doctrines than mine, hold them in honor. But if you are contented with my doctrines, then you should hold me also in special honor. So now, just as at the beginning, do you lead the way and I will follow. If I am honored [2.312c] by you, I will honor you ; but if I am not honored I will keep to myself. Moreover, if you honor me and take the lead in so doing, you will be thought to be honoring philosophy ; and the very fact that you have studied other systems as well will gain you the credit, in the eyes of many, of being a philosopher yourself. But if I honor you, while you do not honor me, I shall be deemed to be a man who worships and pursues after wealth ; and to such conduct everyone, we know, gives a bad name. So, to sum it all up, if you pay the honor, it will be a credit to both of us, but if I pay it a disgrace to both. [2.312d] So much, then, about this subject. As to the globe, there is something wrong with it ; and Archedemus will point it out to you when he arrives. There is also another matter — much more valuable and divine than the globe — which he most certainly must explain, as you were puzzled about it when you sent him. For, according to his report, you say that you have not had a sufficient demonstration of the doctrine concerning the nature of "the First." Now I must expound it to you in a riddling way in order that, should the tablet come to any harm "in folds of ocean or of earth," he that readeth may not understand. The matter stands thus : Related to [2.312e] the King of All are all things, and for his sake they are, and of all things fair He is the cause. And related to the Second are the second things and related to the Third the third. About these, then, the human soul strives to learn, looking to the things that are akin to itself, [2.313a] whereof none is fully perfect. But as to the King and the objects I have mentioned, they are of quite different quality. In the next place the soul inquires — "Well then, what quality have they ?" But the cause of all the mischief, O son of Dionysius and Doris, lies in this very question, or rather in the travail which this question creates in the soul ; and unless a man delivers himself from this he will never really attain the truth. You, however, declared to me in the garden, under the laurels, that you had formed this notion yourself and that it was a discovery of your own ; [2.313b] and I made answer that if it was plain to you that this was so, you would have saved me from a long discourse. I said, however, that I had never met with any other person who had made this discovery ; on the contrary most of the trouble I had was about this very problem. So then, after you had either, as is probable, got the true solution from someone else, or had possibly (by Heaven’s favor) hit on it yourself, you fancied you had a firm grip on the proofs of it, and so you omitted to make them fast ; thus your view of the truth sways now this way, now that, round about the apparent object ; whereas the true object is wholly different. [2.313c] Nor are you alone in this experience ; on the contrary, there has never yet been anyone, I assure you, who has not suffered the same confusion at the beginning, when he first learnt this doctrine from me ; and they all overcome it with difficulty, one man having more trouble and another less, but scarcely a single one of them escapes with but little. So now that this has occurred, and things are in this state, we have pretty well found an answer, as I think, to the question how we ought to behave towards each other. For seeing that you are testing my doctrines both by attending the lectures of other teachers and [2.313d] by examining my teaching side by side with theirs, as well as by itself, then, if the test you make is a true one, not only will these doctrines implant themselves now in your mind, but you also will be devoted both to them and to us. How, then, will this, and all that I have said, be brought to pass ? You have done right now in sending Archedemus ; and in the future also, after he returns to you and reports my answer, you will probably be beset later on with fresh perplexities. Then, if you are rightly advised, you will send Archedemus back to me, and he with his cargo will return to you again. [2.313e] And if you do this twice or thrice, and fully test the doctrines I send you, I shall be surprised if your present difficulties do not assume quite a new aspect. Do you, therefore, act so, and with confidence ; for there is no merchandise more fair than this or dearer to Heaven which you can ever dispatch or Archedemus transport. [2.314a] Beware, however, lest these doctrines be ever divulged to uneducated people. For there are hardly any doctrines, I believe, which sound more absurd than these to the vulgar, or, on the other hand, more admirable and inspired to men of fine disposition. For it is through being repeated and listened to frequently for many years that these doctrines are refined at length, like gold, with prolonged labor. But listen now to the most remarkable result of all. Quite a number of men there are [2.314b] who have listened to these doctrines — men capable of learning and capable also of holding them in mind and judging them by all sorts of tests — and who have been hearers of mine for no less than thirty years and are now quite old ; and these men now declare that the doctrines that they once held to be most incredible appear to them now the most credible, and what they then held most credible now appears the Opposite. So, bearing this in mind, have a care lest one day you should repent of what has now been divulged improperly. The greatest safeguard is to avoid writing and to learn by heart ; [2.314c] for it is not possible that what is written down should not get divulged. For this reason I myself have never yet written anything on these subjects, and no treatise by Plato exists or will exist, but those which now bear his name belong to a Socrates become fair and young. Fare thee well, and give me credence ; and now, to begin with, read this letter over repeatedly and then burn it up. LETTERS LETTER II

So, listen first [3.316c] to the origin of the first of the accusations I have mentioned. It was on your invitation and Dion’s that I came to Syracuse. Dion was a tried comrade of mine and a guest-friend of old standing, and he was a man of staid middle age, — qualities that are specially required by men who possess even a particle of sense when they intend to advise concerning affairs so important as yours then were. You, on the other hand, were extremely young, and in your case I was quite without experience of those points regarding which experience was required, [3.316d] as I was totally unacquainted with you. Thereafter, some man or god or chance, with your assistance, cast out Dion, and you were left alone. Do you suppose, then, that I took any part with you in your political acts, when I had lost my wise partner and saw the unwise one left behind in the company of a crowd of evil men, not ruling himself, but being ruled by men of that sort, while fancying himself the ruler ? In these circumstances what ought I to have done ? Was I not bound to do as I did, — to bid farewell for the future to politics, [3.316e] shunning the slanders which proceed from envy, and to use every endeavor to make you and Dion as friendly to each other as possible, separated though you were and at variance with each other ? Yea, you yourself also are a witness of this, that I have never yet ceased to strive for this very object. And it was agreed between us — although with difficulty — that I should sail home, [3.317a] since you were engaged in war, and that, when peace was restored, Dion and I should go to Syracuse and that you should invite us. And that was how things took place as regards my first sojourn at Syracuse and my safe return home again. But on the second occasion, when peace was restored, you did not keep to our agreement in the invitation you gave me but wrote that I should come alone, and stated that you would send for Dion later on. On this account I did not go ; and, moreover, I was vexed also with Dion ; [3.317b] for he was of opinion that it was better for me to go and to yield to your wishes. Subsequently, after a year’s interval, a trireme arrived with letters from you, and the first words written in the letters were to the effect that if I came I should find that Dion’s affairs would all proceed as I desired, but the opposite if I failed to come. And indeed I am ashamed to say how many letters came at that time from Italy and Sicily from you and [3.317c] from others on your account, or to how many of my friends and acquaintances they were addressed, all enjoining me to go and beseeching me to trust you entirely. It was the firm opinion of everyone, beginning with Dion, that it was my duty to make the voyage and not be faint-hearted. But I always made my age an excuse ; and as for you, I kept assuring them that you would not be able to withstand those who slander us and desire that we should quarrel ; for I saw then, as I see now, that, as a rule, when great and exorbitant wealth is in the hands either of private citizens or of monarchs, [3.317d] the greater it is, the greater and more numerous are the slanderers it breeds and the hordes of parasites and wastrels — than which there is no greater evil generated by wealth or by the other privileges of power. Notwithstanding, I put aside all these considerations and went, resolving that none of my friends should lay it to my charge that owing to my lack of energy all their fortunes were ruined when they might have been saved from ruin. [3.317e] On my arrival — for you know, to be sure, all that subsequently took place — I, of course, requested, in accordance with the agreement in your letters, that you should, in the first place, recall Dion on terms of friendship — which terms I mentioned ; and if you had then yielded to this request, things would probably have turned out better than they have done now both for you and Syracuse and for the rest of Greece — that, at least, is my own intuitive belief. Next, I requested that Dion’s family should have possession of his property, [3.318a] instead of the distributors, whom you wot of, having the distribution of it. And further, I deemed it right that the revenue which was usually paid over to him year by year should be forwarded to him all the more, rather than all the less, because of my presence. None of these requests being granted, I asked leave to depart. Thereupon you kept urging me to stop for the year, declaring that you would sell all Dion’s property and send one half of the proceeds to Corinth and retain the other half for his son. [3.318b] And I could mention many other promises none of which you fulfilled ; but the number of them is so great that I cut it short. For when you had sold all the goods, without Dion’s consent — though you had declared that without his consent you would not dispose of them — you put the coping-stone on all your promises, my admirable friend, in a most outrageous way : you invented a plan that was neither noble nor ingenious nor just nor profitable — namely, to scare me off from so much as [3.318c] seeking for the dispatch of the money, as being in ignorance of the events then going on. For when you sought to expel Heracleides unjustly, as it seemed to the Syracusans as well as to myself — because I had joined with Theodotes and Eurybius in entreating you not to do so, you took this as an ample excuse, and asserted that it had long been plain to you that I paid no regard to you, but only to Dion and Dion’s friends and connections, and now that Theodotes and Heracleides, who were Dion’s connections, were the subjects of accusations, I was using every means to prevent their paying the just penalty. LETTERS LETTER III

[3.318d] Such, then, was the course of events as regards our association in political affairs. And if you perceived any other estrangement in my attitude towards you, you may reasonably suppose that that was the way in which all these things took place. Nor need you be surprised ; for I should justly be accounted base by any man of sense had I been influenced by the greatness of your power to betray my old and intimate guest-friend — a man, to say the least, in no wise inferior to you — [3.318e] when, because of you, he was in distress, and to prefer you, the man who did the wrong, and to do everything just as you bade me — for filthy lucre’s sake, obviously ; for to this, and nothing else, men would have ascribed this change of front in me, if I had changed. Well, then, it was the fact that things took this course, owing to you, which produced this wolf-love and want of fellowship between you and me. LETTERS LETTER III

Practically continuous with the statement made just now there comes, I find, that other statement against which, as I said, [3.319a] I have to make my second defence. Consider now and pay the closest attention, in case I seem to you to be lying at all and not speaking the truth. I affirm that when Archedemus and Aristocritus were with us in the garden, some twenty days before I departed home from Syracuse, you made the same complaint against me that you are making now — that I cared more for Heracleides and for all the rest than for you. And in the presence of those men you asked me whether I remembered bidding you, when I first arrived, [3.319b] to plant settlers in the Greek cities. I granted you that I did remember, and that I still believed that this was the best policy. But, Dionysius, I must also repeat, the next observation that was made on this occasion. For I asked you whether this and this only was what I advised, or something else besides and you made answer to me in a most indignant and most mocking tone, as you supposed — and consequently the object of your mockery then has now turned out a reality instead of a dream ; for you said with a very artificial laugh, [3.319c] if my memory serves me — "You bade me be educated before I did all these things or else not do them." I replied that your memory was excellent. You then said — "Did you mean educated in land-measuring or what ?" But I refrained from making the retort which it occurred to me to make, for I was alarmed about the homeward voyage I was hoping for, lest instead of having an open road I should find it shut, and all because of a short saying. Well then, the purpose of all I have said is this : do not slander me by declaring that I was hindering you from colonizing the Greek cities that were ruined by the barbarians, [3.319d] and from relieving the Syracusans by substituting a monarchy for a tyranny. For you could never bring any false accusation against me that was less appropriate than these ; and, moreover, in refutation of them I could bring still clearer statements if any competent tribunal were anywhere to be seen — showing that it was I who was urging you, and you who were refusing, to execute these plans. And, verily, it is easy to affirm frankly that these plans, if they had been executed, were the best both for you and the Syracusans, and for all the Siceliots. But, my friend, [3.319e] if you deny having said this, when you have said it, I am justified ; while if you confess it, you should further agree that Stesichorus was a wise man, and imitate his palinode, and renounce the false for the true tale. LETTERS LETTER III

He who advises a sick man, whose manner of life is prejudicial to health, is clearly bound first of all to change his patient’s manner of life, and if the patient is willing to obey him, he may go on to give him other advice. But if he is not willing, I shall consider one who declines to advise such a patient to be a man and a physician, and one who gives in to him to be unmanly and unprofessional. In the same way with regard to a State, whether it be under a single ruler or more than one, if, while the government is being carried on methodically and in a right course, it asks advice about any details of policy, it is the part of a wise man to advise such people. But when men are travelling altogether outside the path of right government and flatly refuse to move in the right path, and start by giving notice to their adviser that he must leave the government alone and make no change in it under penalty of death — if such men should order their counsellors to pander to their wishes and desires and to advise them in what way their object may most readily and easily be once for all accomplished, I should consider as unmanly one who accepts the duty of giving such forms of advice, and one who refuses it to be a true man. LETTERS LETTER VII

Holding these views, whenever anyone consults me about any of the weightiest matters affecting his own life, as, for instance, the acquisition of property or the proper treatment of body or mind, if it seems to me that his daily life rests on any system, or if he seems likely to listen to advice about the things on which he consults me, I advise him with readiness, and do not content myself with giving him a merely perfunctory answer. But if a man does not consult me at all, or evidently does not intend to follow my advice, I do not take the initiative in advising such a man, and will not use compulsion to him, even if he be my own son. I would advise a slave under such circumstances, and would use compulsion to him if he were unwilling. To a father or mother I do not think that piety allows one to offer compulsion, unless they are suffering from an attack of insanity ; and if they are following any regular habits of life which please them but do not please me, I would not offend them by offering useless, advice, nor would I flatter them or truckle to them, providing them with the means of satisfying desires which I myself would sooner die than cherish. The wise man should go through life with the same attitude of mind towards his country. If she should appear to him to be following a policy which is not a good one, he should say so, provided that his words are not likely either to fall on deaf ears or to lead to the loss of his own life. But force against his native land he should not use in order to bring about a change of constitution, when it is not possible for the best constitution to be introduced without driving men into exile or putting them to death ; he should keep quiet and offer up prayers for his own welfare and for that of his country. LETTERS LETTER VII

This, then, was the advice which Dion and I gave to Dionysios, since, owing to bringing up which he had received from his father, he had had no advantages in the way of education or of suitable lessons, in the first place... ; and, in the second place, that, after starting in this way, he should make friends of others among his connections who were of the same age and were in sympathy with his pursuit of virtue, but above all that he should be in harmony with himself ; for this it was of which he was remarkably in need. This we did not say in plain words, for that would not have been safe ; but in covert language we maintained that every man in this way would save both himself and those whom he was leading, and if he did not follow this path, he would do just the opposite of this. And after proceeding on the course which we described, and making himself a wise and temperate man, if he were then to found again the cities of Sicily which had been laid waste, and bind them together by laws and constitutions, so as to be loyal to him and to one another in their resistance to the attacks of the barbarians, he would, we told him, make his father’s empire not merely double what it was but many times greater. For, if these things were done, his way would be clear to a more complete subjugation of the Carthaginians than that which befell them in Gelon’s time, whereas in our own day his father had followed the opposite course of levying attribute for the barbarians. This was the language and these the exhortations given by us, the conspirators against Dionysios according to the charges circulated from various sources — charges which, prevailing as they did with Dionysios, caused the expulsion of Dion and reduced me to a state of apprehension. But when — to summarise great events which happened in no great time — Dion returned from the Peloponnese and Athens, his advice to Dionysios took the form of action. LETTERS LETTER VII

I, an Athenian and friend of Dion, came as his ally to the court of Dionysios, in order that I might create good will in place of a state war ; in my conflict with the authors of these slanders I was worsted. When Dionysios tried to persuade me by offers of honours and wealth to attach myself to him, and with a view to giving a decent colour to Dion’s expulsion a witness and friend on his side, he failed completely in his attempt. Later on, when Dion returned from exile, he took with him from Athens two brothers, who had been his friends, not from community in philosophic study, but with the ordinary companionship common among most friends, which they form as the result of relations of hospitality and the intercourse which occurs when one man initiates the other in the mysteries. It was from this kind of intercourse and from services connected with his return that these two helpers in his restoration became his companions. Having come to Sicily, when they perceived that Dion had been misrepresented to the Sicilian Greeks, whom he had liberated, as one that plotted to become monarch, they not only betrayed their companion and friend, but shared personally in the guilt of his murder, standing by his murderers as supporters with weapons in their hands. The guilt and impiety of their conduct I neither excuse nor do I dwell upon it. For many others make it their business to harp upon it, and will make it their business in the future. But I do take exception to the statement that, because they were Athenians, they have brought shame upon this city. For I say that he too is an Athenian who refused to betray this same Dion, when he had the offer of riches and many other honours. For his was no common or vulgar friendship, but rested on community in liberal education, and this is the one thing in which a wise man will put his trust, far more than in ties of personal and bodily kinship. So the two murderers of Dion were not of sufficient importance to be causes of disgrace to this city, as though they had been men of any note. LETTERS LETTER VII

The policy which would best serve to secure your real "well-doing" is that which I shall now endeavor as best I can to describe to you. And I hope that my advice will not only be salutary to you (though to you in special), but also [8.352c] to all the Syracusans, in the second place, and, in the third, to your enemies and your foes, unless any of them be a doer of impious deeds ; for such deeds are irremediable and none could ever wash out their stain. Mark, then, what I now say. Now that the tyranny is broken down over the whole of Sicily all your fighting rages round this one subject of dispute, the one party desiring to recover the headship, and the other to put the finishing touch to the expulsion of the tyrants. Now the majority of men always believe that the right advice about these matters [8.352d] is the advising of such action as will do the greatest possible harm to one’s enemies and the greatest possible good to one’s friends ; whereas it is by no means easy to do much harm to others without also suffering in turn much harm oneself. And without going far afield one may see such consequences clearly in the recent events in Sicily itself, where the one faction is trying to inflict injury and the other to ward off the injurers ; and the tale thereof, if ever you told it to others, [8.352e] would inevitably prove a most impressive lesson. Of such policies, one may say, there is no lack ; but as for a policy which would prove beneficial to all alike, foes as well as friends, or at least as little detrimental as possible to either, such a policy is neither easy to discern, nor, when discerned, easy to carry out ; and to advise such a policy or attempt to describe it is much like saying a prayer. Be it so, then, that this is nothing but a prayer (and in truth every man ought always [8.353a] to begin his speaking and his thinking with the gods) ; yet may it attain fulfilment in indicating some such counsel as this : — Now and almost ever since the war began both you and your enemies have been ruled continuously by that one family which your fathers set on the throne in the hour of their greatest distress, when Greek Sicily was in the utmost danger of being entirely overrun by the Carthaginians and barbarized. On that occasion they chose Dionysius because of his youth and warlike prowess to take charge of [8.353b] the military operations for which he was suited, with Hipparinus, who was older, as his fellow-counsellor, appointing them dictators for the safeguarding of Sicily, with the title, as men say, of "tyrants." But whether one prefers to suppose that the cause which ultimately brought about their salvation was divine Fortune and the Deity, or the virtue of the rulers, or possibly the combination of both assisted by the citizens of that age — as to this let everyone form his own notion ; in any case this was the way in which salvation for the men of that generation came about. Seeing, then, that they proved themselves men of such a quality, [8.353c] it is surely right that they should be repaid with gratitude by all those whom they saved. But if in after times the tyrant’s house has wrongly abused the bounty of the city, the penalty for this it has suffered in part, and in part it will have to pay. What, then, is the penalty rightly to be exacted from them under existing circumstances ? If you were able to get quit of them easily, without serious dangers and trouble, or if they were able to regain the empire without difficulty, then, in either case, it would not have been possible for me so much as to offer the advice which I am now about to utter ; but as it is, both of you ought to bear in mind [8.353d] and remember how many times each party has hopefully imagined that it lacked but a little of achieving complete success almost every time ; and, what is more, that it is precisely this little deficiency which is always turning out to be the cause of great and numberless evils. And of these evils no limit is ever reached, but what seems to be the end of the old is always being linked on to the beginning of a new brood ; and because of this endless chain of evil [8.353e] the whole tribe of tyrants and democrats alike will be in danger of destruction. But should any of these consequences — likely as they are though lamentable — come to pass, hardly a trace of the Greek tongue will remain in all Sicily, since it will have been transformed into a province or dependency of Phoenicians or Opicians. Against this all the Greeks must with all zeal provide a remedy. If, therefore, any man knows of a remedy that is truer and better than that which I am now about to propose, [8.354a] and puts it openly before us, he shall have the best right to the title "Friend of Greece." The remedy, however, which commends itself to me I shall now endeavor to explain, using the utmost freedom of speech and a tone of impartial justice. For indeed I am speaking somewhat like an arbitrator, and addressing to the two parties, the former despot and his subjects, as though each were a single person, the counsel I gave of old. And now also my word of advice to every despot would be that he should shun the despot’s title and his task, and change his despotism for kingship. [8.354b] That this is possible has been actually proved by that wise and good man Lycurgus ; for when he saw that the family of his kinsmen in Argos and in Messene had in both cases destroyed both themselves and their city by advancing from kingship to despotic power, he was alarmed about his own city as well as his own family, and as a remedy he introduced the authority of the Elders and of the Ephors to serve as a bond of safety for the kingly power ; and because of this they have already been kept safe [8.354c] and glorious all these generations since Law became with them supreme king over men instead of men being despots over the laws. And now also I urgently admonish you all to do the same. Those of you who are rushing after despotic power I exhort to change their course and to flee betimes from what is counted as "bliss" by men of insatiable cravings and empty heads, and to try to transform themselves into the semblance of a king, and to become subject to kingly laws, owing their possession of the highest honors to the voluntary goodwill of the citizens and to the laws. And [8.354d] I should counsel those who follow after the ways of freedom, and shun as a really evil thing the yoke of bondage, to beware lest by their insatiable craving for an immoderate freedom they should ever fall sick of their forefathers’ disease, which the men of that time suffered because of their excessive anarchy, through indulging an unmeasured love of freedom. For the Siceliots of the age before Dionysius and Hipparinus began to rule were living blissfully, as they supposed, being in luxury and ruling also over their rulers ; and they even stoned to death the ten generals [8.354e] who preceded Dionysius, without any legal trial, to show that they were no slaves of any rightful master, nor of any law, but were in all ways altogether free. Hence it was that the rule of the despots befell them. For as regards both slavery and freedom, when either is in excess it is wholly evil, but when in moderation wholly good ; and moderate slavery consists in being the slave of God, immoderate, in being the slave of men ; [8.355a] and men of sound sense have Law for their God, but men without sense Pleasure. Since these things are naturally ordained thus, I exhort Dion’s friends to declare what I am advising to all the Syracusans, as being the joint advice both of Dion and myself ; and I will be the interpreter of what he would have said to you now, were he alive and able to speak. "Pray then," someone might say, "what message does the advice of Dion declare to us concerning the present situation ?" It is this : "Above all else, O ye Syracusans, accept such laws [8.355b] as do not appear to you likely to turn your minds covetously to money-making and wealth ; but rather — since there are three objects, the soul, the body, and money besides, — accept such laws as cause the virtue of the soul to be held first in honor, that of the body second, subordinate to that of the soul, and the honor paid to money to come third and last, in subjection to both the body and the soul. The ordinance which effects this [8.355c] will be truly laid down by you as law, since it really makes those who obey it blessed ; whereas the phrase which terms the rich "blessed" is not only a miserable one in itself, being the senseless phrase of women and children, but also renders those who believe it equally miserable. That this exhortation of mine is true you will learn by actual experience if you make trial of what I am now saying concerning laws ; for in all matters experience is held to be the truest test. And when you have accepted laws of this kind, inasmuch as [8.355d] Sicily is beset with dangers, and you are neither complete victors nor utterly vanquished, it will be, no doubt, both just and profitable for you all to pursue a middle course — not only those of you who flee from the harshness of the tyranny, but also those who crave to win back that tyranny — the men whose ancestors in those days performed the mightiest deed in saving the Greeks from the barbarians, with the result that it is possible for us now to talk about constitutions ; whereas, if they had then been ruined, no place would have been left at all for either talk or hope. So, then, let the one party of you gain freedom by the aid of kingly rule, [8.355e] and the other gain a form of kingly rule that is not irresponsible, with the laws exercising despotic sway over the kings themselves as well as the rest of the citizens, in case they do anything illegal. On these conditions set up kings for all of you, by the help of the gods and with honest and sound intent, — my own son first in return for twofold favors, namely that conferred by me and that conferred by my father ; for he delivered the city from barbarians in his own day, while I, in the present day, have twice delivered it from tyrants, [8.356a] whereof you yourselves are witnesses. And as your second king create the man who possesses the same name as my father and is son to Dionysius, in return for his present assistance and for his pious disposition ; for he, though he is sprung from a tyrant’s loins, is in act of delivering the city of his own free will, gaining thereby for himself and for his race everlasting honor in place of a transitory and unrighteous tyranny. And, thirdly, you ought to invite to become king of Syracuse — as willing king of a willing city — him who is now [8.356b] commander of your enemies’ army, Dionysius, son of Dionysius, if so be that he is willing of his own accord to transform himself into a king, being moved thereto by fear of fortune’s changes, and by pity for his country and the untended state of her temples and her tombs, lest because of his ambition he utterly ruin all and become a cause of rejoicing to the barbarians. And these three, — whether you grant them the power of the Laconian kings or curtail that power by a common agreement, — you should establish as kings in some such manner as the following, [8.356c] which indeed has been described to you before, yet listen to it now again. If you find that the family of Dionysius and Hipparinus is willing to make an end of the evils now occurring in order to secure the salvation of Sicily provided that they receive honors both in the present and for the future for themselves and for their family, then on these terms, as was said before, convoke envoys empowered to negotiate a pact, such men as they may choose, whether they come from Sicily or from abroad or both, and in such numbers as may be mutually agreed. [8.356d] And these men, on their arrival, should first lay down laws and a constitution which is so framed as to permit the kings to be put in control of the temples and of all else that fitly belongs to those who once were benefactors. And as controllers of war and peace they should appoint Law-wardens, thirty-five in number, in conjunction with the People and the Council. And there should be various courts of law for various suits, but in matters involving death or exile the Thirty-five should form the court ; and in addition to these there should be judges selected [8.356e] from the magistrates of each preceding year, one from each magistracy — the one, that is, who is approved as the most good and just ; and these should decide for the ensuing year all cases which involve the death, imprisonment or transportation of citizens ; and it should not be permissible for a king to be a judge of such suits, but he, like a priest, [8.357a] should remain clean from bloodshed and imprisonment and exile. This is what I planned for you when I was alive, and it is still my plan now. With your aid, had not Furies in the guise of guests prevented me, I should then have overcome our foes, and established the State in the way I planned ; and after this, had my intentions been realized, I should have resettled the rest of Sicily by depriving the barbarians of the land they now hold — excepting those who fought in defence of the common liberty against the tyranny — [8.357b] and restoring the former occupiers of the Greek regions to their ancient and ancestral homes. And now likewise I counsel you all with one accord to adopt and execute these same plans, and to summon all to this task, and to count him who refuses as a common enemy. Nor is such a course impossible ; for when plans actually exist in two souls, and when they are readily perceived upon reflection to be the best, he who pronounces such plans impossible is hardly a man of understanding. And by the "two souls" [8.357c] I mean the soul of Hipparinus the son of Dionysius and that of my own son ; for should these agree together, I believe that all the rest of the Syracusans who have a care for their city will consent. Well then, when you have paid due honor, with prayer, to all the gods and all the other powers to whom, along with the gods, it is due, cease not from urging and exhorting both friends and opponents by gentle means and every means, until, like a heaven-sent dream presented to waking eyes, [8.357d] the plan which I have pictured in words be wrought by you into plain deeds and brought to a happy consummation." LETTERS LETTER VIII

I shall be sorry to doubt the word of such a wise and inspired man, but his meaning, though probably clear to you, is the reverse of clear to me. For he certainly does not mean, as we were just now saying, that I ought to return a deposit of arms or of anything else to one who asks for it when he is not in his right senses ; and yet a deposit cannot be denied to be a debt. THE REPUBLIC   BOOK I

Then if a man says that justice consists in the repayment of debts, and that good is the debt which a just man owes to his friends, and evil the debt which he owes to his enemies — to say this is not wise ; for it is not true, if, as has been clearly shown, the injuring of another can be in no case just. THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

Then you and I are prepared to take up arms against anyone who attributes such a saying to Simonides or Bias or Pittacus, or any other wise man or seer ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

Done to me ! — as becomes the ignorant, I must learn from the wise — that is what I deserve to have done to me. THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

And do the unjust appear to you to be wise and good ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

And the unjust is good and wise, and the just is neither ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

And is not the unjust like the wise and good, and the just unlike them ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

And which is wise and which is foolish ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

Clearly the musician is wise, and he who is not a musician is foolish. THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

And he is good in as far as he is wise, and bad in as far as he is foolish ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

And the knowing is wise ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

And the wise is good ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

Then the wise and good will not desire to gain more than his like, but more than his unlike and opposite ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

Then the just is like the wise and good, and the unjust like the evil and ignorant ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

Then the just has turned out to be wise and good, and the unjust evil and ignorant. THE REPUBLIC BOOK I

"[To him even after death did Persephone grant mind,] that he alone should be wise ; but the other souls are flitting shades." THE REPUBLIC BOOK III

or his insubordination to the river-god, on whose divinity he is ready to lay hands ; or his offerings to the dead Patroclus of his own hair, which had been previously dedicated to the other river-god Spercheius, and that he actually performed this vow ; or that he dragged Hector round the tomb of Patroclus, and slaughtered the captives at the pyre ; of all this I cannot believe that he was guilty, any more than I can allow our citizens to believe that he, the wise Cheiron’s pupil, the son of a goddess and of Peleus who was the gentlest of men and third in descent from Zeus, was so disordered in his wits as to be at one time the slave of two seemingly inconsistent passions, meanness, not untainted by avarice, combined with overweening contempt of gods and men. THE REPUBLIC BOOK III

Yes, I replied, and he will be a good man (which is my answer to your question) ; for he is good who has a good soul. But the cunning and suspicious nature of which we spoke — he who has committed many crimes, and fancies himself to be a master in wickedness — when he is among his fellows, is wonderful in the precautions which he takes, because he judges of them by himself : but when he gets into the company of men of virtue, who have the experience of age, he appears to be a fool again, owing to his unseasonable suspicions ; he cannot recognize an honest man, because he has no pattern of honesty in himself ; at the same time, as the bad are more numerous than the good, and he meets with them oftener, he thinks himself, and is by others thought to be, rather wise than foolish. THE REPUBLIC BOOK III

Then the good and wise judge whom we are seeking is not this man, but the other ; for vice cannot know virtue too, but a virtuous nature, educated by time, will acquire a knowledge both of virtue and vice : the virtuous, and not the vicious, man has wisdom — in my opinion. THE REPUBLIC BOOK III

And to this end they ought to be wise and efficient, and to have a special care of the State ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK III

You ought to speak of other States in the plural number ; not one of them is a city, but many cities, as they say in the game. For indeed any city, however small, is in fact divided into two, one the city of the poor, the other of the rich ; these are at war with one another ; and in either there are many smaller divisions, and you would be altogether beside the mark if you treated them all as a single State. But if you deal with them as many, and give the wealth or power or persons of the one to the others, you will always have a great many friends and not many enemies. And your State, while the wise order which has now been prescribed continues to prevail in her, will be the greatest of States, I do not mean to say in reputation or appearance, but in deed and truth, though she number not more than 1,000 defenders. A single State which is her equal you will hardly find, either among Hellenes or barbarians, though many that appear to be as great and many times greater. THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

And being perfect, is therefore wise and valiant and temperate and just. THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

The State which we have been describing is said to be wise as being good in counsel ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

Of course. There is the knowledge of the carpenter ; but is that the sort of knowledge which gives a city the title of wise and good in counsel ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

Then a city is not to be called wise because possessing a knowledge which counsels for the best about wooden implements ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

The name of good in counsel and truly wise. THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

And so by reason of the smallest part or class, and of the knowledge which resides in this presiding and ruling part of itself, the whole State, being thus constituted according to nature, will be wise ; and this, which has the only knowledge worthy to be called wisdom, has been ordained by nature to be of all classes the least. THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

Why, because temperance is unlike courage and wisdom, each of which resides in a part only, the one making the State wise and the other valiant ; not so temperance, which extends to the whole, and runs through all the notes of the scale, and produces a harmony of the weaker and the stronger and the middle class, whether you suppose them to be stronger or weaker in wisdom, or power, or numbers, or wealth, or anything else. Most truly then may we deem temperance to be the agreement of the naturally superior and inferior, as to the right to rule of either, both in States and individuals. THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

And a State was thought by us to be just when the three classes in the State severally did their own business ; and also thought to be temperate and valiant and wise by reason of certain other affections and qualities of these same classes ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

Must we not then infer that the individual is wise in the same way, and in virtue of the same quality which makes the State wise ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

And ought not the rational principle, which is wise, and has the care of the whole soul, to rule, and the passionate or spirited principle to be the subject and ally ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

And him we call wise who has in him that little part which rules, and which proclaims these commands ; that part too being supposed to have a knowledge of what is for the interest of each of the three parts and of the whole ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK IV

Yes, Socrates, said Glaucon, and the whole of life is the only limit which wise men assign to the hearing of such discourses. But never mind about us ; take heart yourself and answer the question in your own way : What sort of community of women and children is this which is to prevail among our guardians ? and how shall we manage the period between birth and education, which seems to require the greatest care ? Tell us how these things will be. THE REPUBLIC BOOK V

Then let me tell you that you are doing just the reverse ; the encouragement which you offer would have been all very well had I myself believed that I knew what I was talking about. To declare the truth about matters of high interest which a man honors and loves, among wise men who love him, need occasion no fear or faltering in his mind ; but to carry on an argument when you are yourself only a hesitating inquirer, which is my condition, is a dangerous and slippery thing ; and the danger is not that I shall be laughed at (of which the fear would be childish), but that I shall miss the truth where I have most need to be sure of my footing, and drag my friends after me in my fall. And I pray Nemesis not to visit upon me the words which I am going to utter. For I do indeed believe that to be an involuntary homicide is a less crime than to be a deceiver about beauty, or goodness, or justice, in the matter of laws. And that is a risk which I would rather run among enemies than among friends ; and therefore you do well to encourage me. THE REPUBLIC BOOK V

Say to him, that, in deeming the best votaries of philosophy to be useless to the rest of the world, he is right ; but also tell him to attribute their uselessness to the fault of those who will not use them, and not to themselves. The pilot should not humbly beg the sailors to be commanded by him — that is not the order of nature ; neither are "the wise to go to the doors of the rich" — the ingenious author of this saying told a lie — but the truth is, that, when a man is ill, whether he be rich or poor, to the physician he must go, and he who wants to be governed, to him who is able to govern. The ruler who is good for anything ought not to beg his subjects to be ruled by him ; although the present governors of mankind are of a different stamp ; they may be justly compared to the mutinous sailors, and the true helmsmen to those who are called by them goodfor-nothings and star-gazers. THE REPUBLIC BOOK VI

But again, will they tell us that such a nature, placed under favorable circumstances, will not be perfectly good and wise if any ever was ? Or will they prefer those whom we have rejected ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK VI

But is this equally true of the greatness and smallness of the fingers ? Can sight adequately perceive them ? and is no difference made by the circumstance that one of the fingers is in the middle and the other at the extremity ? And in like manner does the touch adequately perceive the qualities of thickness or thinness, of softness or hardness ? And so of the other senses ; do they give perfect intimations of such matters ? Is not their mode of operation on this wise — the sense which is concerned with the quality of hardness is necessarily concerned also with the quality of softness, and only intimates to the soul that the same thing is felt to be both hard and soft ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK VII

Does not the timocratical man change into the oligarchical on this wise ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK VIII

Well, I said, and how does the change from oligarchy into democracy arise ? Is it not on this wise : the good at which such a State aims is to become as rich as possible, a desire which is insatiable ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK VIII

These two classes are the plagues of every city in which they are generated, being what phlegm and bile are to the body. And the good physician and lawgiver of the State ought, like the wise bee-master, to keep them at a distance and prevent, if possible, their ever coming in ; and if they have anyhow found a way in, then he should have them and their cells cut out as speedily as possible. THE REPUBLIC BOOK VIII

And therefore he must look about him and see who is valiant, who is high-minded, who is wise, who is wealthy ; happy man, he is the enemy of them all, and must seek occasion against them whether he will or no, until he has made a purgation of the State. THE REPUBLIC BOOK VIII

Verily, then, tragedy is a wise thing and Euripides a great tragedian. THE REPUBLIC BOOK VIII

"Tyrants are wise by living with the wise ;" THE REPUBLIC BOOK VIII

and he clearly meant to say that they are the wise whom the tyrant makes his companions. THE REPUBLIC BOOK VIII

And therefore, I said, the tragic poets being wise men will forgive us and any others who live after our manner, if we do not receive them into our State, because they are the eulogists of tyranny. THE REPUBLIC BOOK VIII

Nay, he said, all three are honored in proportion as they attain their object ; for the rich man and the brave man and the wise man alike have their crowd of admirers, and as they all receive honor they all have experience of the pleasures of honor ; but the delight which is to be found in the knowledge of true being is known to the philosopher only. THE REPUBLIC BOOK IX

Unquestionably, he said, the wise man speaks with authority when he approves of his own life. THE REPUBLIC BOOK IX

Twice in succession, then, has the just man overthrown the unjust in this conflict ; and now comes the third trial, which is dedicated to Olympian Zeus the saviour : a sage whispers in my ear that no pleasure except that of the wise is quite true and pure — all others are a shadow only ; and surely this will prove the greatest and most decisive of falls ? THE REPUBLIC BOOK IX

And does not the latter — I mean the rebellious principle — furnish a great variety of materials for imitation ? Whereas the wise and calm temperament, being always nearly equable, is not easy to imitate or to appreciate when imitated, especially at a public festival when a promiscuous crowd is assembled in a theatre. For the feeling represented is one to which they are strangers. THE REPUBLIC BOOK X