Chapter XXIV: Part 24

_Soc._ Oedipus, as I was saying, Alcibiades, was a person of 141
this sort. And even now-a-days you will find many who
[have offered inauspicious prayers], although, unlike him,
they were not in anger nor thought that they were asking
evil. He neither sought, nor supposed that he sought for
good, but others have had quite the contrary notion. I believe
that if the God whom you are about to consult should
appear to you, and, in anticipation of your request, enquired
whether you would be contented to become tyrant of Athens,
and if this seemed in your eyes a small and mean thing,
should add to it the dominion of all Hellas; and seeing that
even then you would not be satisfied unless you were ruler
of the whole of Europe, should promise, not only that, but, if
you so desired, should proclaim to all mankind in one and
the same day that Alcibiades, son of Cleinias, was tyrant:—in
such a case, I imagine, you would depart full of joy, as one
who had obtained the greatest of goods.

_Al._ And not only I, Socrates, but any one else who should
meet with such luck.

_Soc._ Yet you would not accept the dominion and lordship
of all the Hellenes and all the barbarians in exchange for
your life?

_Al._ Certainly not: for then what use could I make of
them?

_Soc._ And would you accept them if you were likely to use
them to a bad and mischievous end?

_Al._ I would not.

[Sidenote: Archelaus and his beloved.]

[Sidenote: Men never refuse the goods of fortune, however great the evils which may attend them.]

[Sidenote: _The blindness of humanity._]

_Soc._ You see that it is not safe for a man either rashly to
accept whatever is offered him, or himself to request a thing,
if he is likely to suffer thereby or immediately to lose his life.
And yet we could tell of many who, having long desired and
diligently laboured to obtain a tyranny, thinking that thus
they would procure an advantage, have nevertheless fallen
victims to designing enemies. You must have heard of
what happened only the other day, how Archelaus of
Macedonia was slain by his beloved[65], whose love for the
tyranny was not less than that of Archelaus for him. The
tyrannicide expected by his crime to become tyrant and
afterwards to have a happy life; but when he had held the
tyranny three or four days, he was in his turn conspired
against and slain. Or look at certain of our own citizens,—and
of their actions we have been not hearers, but eyewitnesses,—who
have desired to obtain military command: of
those who have gained their object, some are even to this day 142
exiles from the city, while others have lost their lives. And
even they who seem to have fared best, have not only gone
through many perils and terrors during their office, but after
their return home they have been beset by informers worse
than they once were by their foes, insomuch that several of
them have wished that they had remained in a private station
rather than have had the glories of command. If, indeed, such
perils and terrors were of profit to the commonwealth, there
would be reason in undergoing them; but the very contrary is
the case. Again, you will find persons who have prayed for
offspring, and when their prayers were heard, have fallen
into the greatest pains and sufferings. For some have
begotten children who were utterly bad, and have therefore
passed all their days in misery, while the parents of good
children have undergone the misfortune of losing them, and
have been so little happier than the others that they would
have preferred never to have had children rather than to
have had them and lost them. And yet, although these and
the like examples are manifest and known of all, it is rare to
find any one who has refused what has been offered him, or,
if he were likely to gain aught by prayer, has refrained from
making his petition. The mass of mankind would not decline
to accept a tyranny, or the command of an army, or any
of the numerous things which cause more harm than good:
but rather, if they had them not, would have prayed to obtain
them. And often in a short space of time they change their
tone, and wish their old prayers unsaid. Wherefore also I
suspect that men are entirely wrong when they blame the
gods as the authors of the ills which befall them[66]: ‘their own
presumption,’ or folly (whichever is the right word)—

‘Has brought these unmeasured woes upon them[67].’

He must have been a wise poet, Alcibiades, who, seeing as I
believe, his friends foolishly praying for and doing things
which would not really profit them, offered up a common
prayer in behalf of them all:—

‘King Zeus, grant us good whether prayed for or unsought by us; 143
But that which we ask amiss, do thou avert[68].’

[Sidenote: _Some ignorance is better than some knowledge._]

In my opinion, I say, the poet spoke both well and prudently;
but if you have anything to say in answer to him,
speak out.

_Al._ It is difficult, Socrates, to oppose what has been well
said. And I perceive how many are the ills of which ignorance
is the cause, since, as would appear, through
ignorance we not only do, but what is worse, pray for the
greatest evils. No man would imagine that he would do so;
he would rather suppose that he was quite capable of praying
for what was best: to call down evil seems more like a curse
than a prayer.

_Soc._ But perhaps, my good friend, some one who is wiser
than either you or I will say that we have no right to blame
ignorance thus rashly, unless we can add what ignorance we
mean and of what, and also to whom and how it is respectively
a good or an evil?

_Al._ How do you mean? Can ignorance possibly be better
than knowledge for any person in any conceivable case?

_Soc._ So I believe:—you do not think so?

_Al._ Certainly not.

[Sidenote: Orestes and Alcmaeon.]

_Soc._ And yet surely I may not suppose that you would
ever wish to act towards your mother as they say that
Orestes and Alcmaeon and others have done towards their
parent.

_Al._ Good words, Socrates, prithee.

[Sidenote: Ignorance of the best is bad: ignorance of the bad good.]

_Soc._ You ought not to bid him use auspicious words, who
says that you would not be willing to commit so horrible a
deed, but rather him who affirms the contrary, if the act
appear to you unfit even to be mentioned. Or do you think
that Orestes, had he been in his senses and knew what was
best for him to do, would ever have dared to venture on such
a crime?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ Nor would any one else, I fancy?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ That ignorance is bad then, it would appear, which is
of the best and does not know what is best?

_Al._ So I think, at least.

_Soc._ And both to the person who is ignorant and everybody
else?

[Sidenote: _Cases in which ignorance may be an advantage._]

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Let us take another case. Suppose that you were
suddenly to get into your head that it would be a good thing 144
to kill Pericles, your kinsman and guardian, and were to
seize a sword and, going to the doors of his house, were to
enquire if he were at home, meaning to slay only him and no
one else:—the servants reply, ‘Yes’: (Mind, I do not mean
that you would really do such a thing; but there is nothing,
you think, to prevent a man who is ignorant of the best,
having occasionally the whim that what is worst is best?

_Al._ No.)

[Sidenote: A man might be prevented from committing murder by ignorance of the person whom he was going to murder.]

_Soc._—If, then, you went indoors, and seeing him, did not
know him, but thought that he was some one else, would you
venture to slay him?

_Al._ Most decidedly not [69][it seems to me][69].

_Soc._ For you designed to kill, not the first who offered,
but Pericles himself?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And if you made many attempts, and each time failed
to recognize Pericles, you would never attack him?

_Al._ Never.

_Soc._ Well, but if Orestes in like manner had not known
his mother, do you think that he would ever have laid hands
upon her?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ He did not intend to slay the first woman he came
across, nor any one else’s mother, but only his own?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ Ignorance, then, is better for those who are in such
a frame of mind, and have such ideas?

_Al._ Obviously.

_Soc._ You acknowledge that for some persons in certain
cases the ignorance of some things is a good and not an evil,
as you formerly supposed?

_Al._ I do.

_Soc._ [70]And there is still another case which will also
perhaps appear strange to you, if you will consider it?[70]

_Al._ What is that, Socrates?

[Sidenote: _The knowledge of the best._]

[Sidenote: All knowledge if unaccompanied by a knowledge of the best is hurtful.]

_Soc._ It may be, in short, that the possession of all the
sciences, if unaccompanied by the knowledge of the best, will
more often than not injure the possessor. Consider the
matter thus:—Must we not, when we intend either to do or
say anything, suppose that we know or ought to know that
which we propose so confidently to do or say?

_Al._ Yes, in my opinion.

_Soc._ We may take the orators for an example, who from
time to time advise us about war and peace, or the building 145
of walls and the construction of harbours, whether they
understand the business in hand, or only think that they do.
Whatever the city, in a word, does to another city, or in the
management of her own affairs, all happens by the counsel
of the orators.

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ But now see what follows, if I can [71][make it clear to
you][71]. You would distinguish the wise from the foolish?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ The many are foolish, the few wise?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And you use both the terms, ‘wise’ and ‘foolish,’ in
reference to something?

_Al._ I do.

[Sidenote: Examples.]

_Soc._ Would you call a person wise who can give advice,
but does not know whether or when it is better to carry out
the advice?

_Al._ Decidedly not.

_Soc._ Nor again, I suppose, a person who knows the art of
war, but does not know whether it is better to go to war or
for how long?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ Nor, once more, a person who knows how to kill
another or to take away his property or to drive him from
his native land, but not when it is better to do so or for
whom it is better?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ But he who understands anything of the kind and
has at the same time the knowledge of the best course of
action:—and the best and the useful are surely the same?—

[Sidenote: _Cleverness in the arts not wisdom._]

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._—Such an one, I say, we should call wise and a useful
adviser both of himself and of the city. What do you think?

_Al._ I agree.

_Soc._ And if any one knows how to ride or to shoot with
the bow or to box or to wrestle, or to engage in any other
sort of contest or to do anything whatever which is in the
nature of an art,—what do you call him who knows what is
best according to that art? Do you not speak of one who
knows what is best in riding as a good rider?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And in a similar way you speak of a good boxer or
a good flute-player or a good performer in any other art?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ But is it necessary that the man who is clever in any
of these arts should be wise also in general? Or is there
a difference between the clever artist and the wise man?

_Al._ All the difference in the world.

[Sidenote: A state would be bad which was composed only of skilful artists and clever politicians, but where no one had the knowledge of the best.]

_Soc._ And what sort of a state do you think that would be
which was composed of good archers and flute-players and
athletes and masters in other arts, and besides them of
those others about whom we spoke, who knew how to go to
war and how to kill, as well as of orators puffed up with
political pride but in which not one of them all had this
knowledge of the best, and there was no one who could tell
when it was better to apply any of these arts or in regard to 146
whom?

_Al._ I should call such a state bad, Socrates.

_Soc._ You certainly would when you saw each of them
rivalling the other and esteeming that of the greatest importance
in the state,

‘Wherein he himself most excelled[72].’

—I mean that which was best in any art, while he was
entirely ignorant of what was best for himself and for the
state, because, as I think, he trusts to opinion which is
devoid of intelligence. In such a case should we not be
right if we said that the state would be full of anarchy and
lawlessness?

[Sidenote: _True knowledge a knowledge of the best._]

_Al._ Decidedly.

_Soc._ But ought we not then, think you, either to fancy
that we know or really to know, what we confidently propose
to do or say?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And if a person does that which he knows or supposes
that he knows, and the result is beneficial, he will act
advantageously both for himself and for the state?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ And if he do the contrary, both he and the state will
suffer?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Well, and are you of the same mind as before?

_Al._ I am.

_Soc._ But were you not saying that you would call the
many unwise and the few wise?

_Al._ I was.

_Soc._ And have we not come back to our old assertion that
the many fail to obtain the best because they trust to opinion
which is devoid of intelligence?

_Al._ That is the case.

_Soc._ It is good, then, for the many, if they particularly
desire to do that which they know or suppose that they
know, neither to know nor to suppose that they know, in
cases where if they carry out their ideas in action they will
be losers rather than gainers?

_Al._ What you say is very true.

_Soc._ Do you not see that I was really speaking the truth
when I affirmed that the possession of any other kind of
knowledge was more likely to injure than to benefit the
possessor, unless he had also the knowledge of the best?

_Al._ I do now, if I did not before, Socrates.

[Sidenote: The soul requires this knowledge of the best before she sets sail on the voyage of life.]

[Sidenote: _The meaning of the poets._]

_Soc._ The state or the soul, therefore, which wishes to have
a right existence must hold firmly to this knowledge, just as
the sick man clings to the physician, or the passenger
depends for safety on the pilot. And if the soul does not set 147
sail until she have obtained this she will be all the safer in
the voyage through life. But when she rushes in pursuit of
wealth or bodily strength or anything else, not having the
knowledge of the best, so much the more is she likely to
meet with misfortune. And he who has the love of learning[73],
and is skilful in many arts, and does not possess the knowledge
of the best, but is under some other guidance, will
make, as he deserves, a sorry voyage:—he will, I believe,
hurry through the brief space of human life, pilotless in
mid-ocean, and the words will apply to him in which the poet
blamed his enemy:—

‘... Full many a thing he knew;
But knew them all badly[74].’

_Al._ How in the world, Socrates, do the words of the poet
apply to him? They seem to me to have no bearing on the
point whatever.

[Sidenote: The poets spoke in riddles a hidden truth.]

_Soc._ Quite the contrary, my sweet friend: only the poet is
talking in riddles after the fashion of his tribe. For all
poetry has by nature an enigmatical character, and it is by
no means everybody who can interpret it. And if, moreover,
the spirit of poetry happen to seize on a man who is of
a begrudging temper and does not care to manifest his
wisdom but keeps it to himself as far as he can, it does
indeed require an almost superhuman wisdom to discover
what the poet would be at. You surely do not suppose that
Homer, the wisest and most divine of poets, was unaware of
the impossibility of knowing a thing badly: for it was no less
a person than he who said of Margites that ‘he knew many
things, but knew them all badly.’ The solution of the riddle
is this, I imagine:—By ‘badly’ Homer meant ‘bad’ and
‘knew’ stands for ‘to know.’ Put the words together;—the
metre will suffer, but the poet’s meaning is clear;—‘Margites
knew all these things, but it was bad for him to know them.’
And, obviously, if it was bad for him to know so many
things, he must have been a good-for-nothing, unless the
argument has played us false.

_Al._ But I do not think that it has, Socrates: at least, if
the argument is fallacious, it would be difficult for me to find
another which I could trust.

_Soc._ And you are right in thinking so.

_Al._ Well, that is my opinion.

[Sidenote: _The prayer of the Lacedaemonians._]

[Sidenote: Alcibiades is too unstable to be able to trust his own prayers.]

_Soc._ But tell me, by Heaven:—you must see now the
nature and greatness of the difficulty in which you, like
others, have your part. For you change about in all
directions, and never come to rest anywhere: what you once
most strongly inclined to suppose, you put aside again and
quite alter your mind. If the God to whose shrine you are 148
going should appear at this moment, and ask before you
made your prayer, ‘Whether you would desire to have one
of the things which we mentioned at first, or whether he
should leave you to make your own request:’—what in either
case, think you, would be the best way to take advantage of
the opportunity?

_Al._ Indeed, Socrates, I could not answer you without
consideration. It seems to me to be a wild thing[75] to make
such a request; a man must be very careful lest he pray for
evil under the idea that he is asking for good, when shortly
after he may have to recall his prayer, and, as you were
saying, demand the opposite of what he at first requested.

_Soc._ And was not the poet whose words I originally
quoted wiser than we are, when he bade us [pray God] to
defend us from evil even though we asked for it?

_Al._ I believe that you are right.

_Soc._ The Lacedaemonians, too, whether from admiration
of the poet or because they have discovered the idea for
themselves, are wont to offer the prayer alike in public and
private, that the Gods will give unto them the beautiful as
well as the good:—no one is likely to hear them make any
further petition. And yet up to the present time they have
not been less fortunate than other men; or if they have
sometimes met with misfortune, the fault has not been due to
their prayer. For surely, as I conceive, the Gods have
power either to grant our requests, or to send us the contrary
of what we ask.

[Sidenote: The silent prayer of the Lacedaemonians better than all the offerings of the other Hellenes.]

And now I will relate to you a story which I have heard
from certain of our elders. It chanced that when the
Athenians and Lacedaemonians were at war, our city lost
every battle by land and sea and never gained a victory.

[Sidenote: _The word of the Oracle_]

The Athenians being annoyed and perplexed how to find
a remedy for their troubles, decided to send and enquire at
the shrine of Ammon. Their envoys were also to ask,
‘Why the Gods always granted the victory to the Lacedaemonians?’
‘We,’ (they were to say,) ‘offer them more
and finer sacrifices than any other Hellenic state, and adorn
their temples with gifts, as nobody else does; moreover, we
make the most solemn and costly processions to them every
year, and spend more money in their service than all the
rest of the Hellenes put together. But the Lacedaemonians 149
take no thought of such matters, and pay so little respect to
the Gods that they have a habit of sacrificing blemished
animals to them, and in various ways are less zealous than
we are, although their wealth is quite equal to ours.’ When
they had thus spoken, and had made their request to know
what remedy they could find against the evils which troubled
them, the prophet made no direct answer,—clearly because
he was not allowed by the God to do so;—but he summoned
them to him and said: ‘Thus saith Ammon to the Athenians:
“The silent worship of the Lacedaemonians pleaseth me
better than all the offerings of the other Hellenes.”’ Such
were the words of the God, and nothing more. He seems
to have meant by ‘silent worship’ the prayer of the
Lacedaemonians, which is indeed widely different from the
usual requests of the Hellenes. For they either bring to
the altar bulls with gilded horns or make offerings to the
Gods, and beg at random for what they need, good or bad.
When, therefore, the Gods hear them using words of ill
omen they reject these costly processions and sacrifices of
theirs. And we ought, I think, to be very careful and consider
well what we should say and what leave unsaid.
Homer, too, will furnish us with similar stories. For he
tells us how the Trojans in making their encampment,

‘Offered up whole hecatombs to the immortals,’

and how the ‘sweet savour’ was borne ‘to the heavens by
the winds;

‘But the blessed Gods were averse and received it not.
For exceedingly did they hate the holy Ilium,
Both Priam and the people of the spear-skilled king.’

So that it was in vain for them to sacrifice and offer gifts,
seeing that they were hateful to the Gods, who are not, like
vile usurers, to be gained over by bribes. And it is foolish
for us to boast that we are superior to the Lacedaemonians
by reason of our much worship. The idea is inconceivable
that the Gods have regard, not to the justice and purity of 150
our souls, but to costly processions and sacrifices, which men
may celebrate year after year, although they have committed
innumerable crimes against the Gods or against their fellow-men
or the state. For the Gods, as Ammon and his prophet
declare, are no receivers of gifts, and they scorn such unworthy
service. Wherefore also it would seem that wisdom
and justice are especially honoured both by the Gods and by
men of sense; and they are the wisest and most just who
know how to speak and act towards Gods and men. But
I should like to hear what your opinion is about these
matters.

[Sidenote: _about the Athenians and the Lacedaemonians._]

_Al._ I agree, Socrates, with you and with the God, whom,
indeed, it would be unbecoming for me to oppose.

_Soc._ Do you not remember saying that you were in great
perplexity, lest perchance you should ask for evil, supposing
that you were asking for good?

_Al._ I do.

[Sidenote: Alcibiades cannot tell whether he is asking for good or evil. ‘Therefore let his words be few.’]

_Soc._ You see, then, that there is a risk in your approaching
the God in prayer, lest haply he should refuse
your sacrifice when he hears the blasphemy which you utter,
and make you partake of other evils as well. The wisest
plan, therefore, seems to me that you should keep silence;
for your ‘highmindedness’—to use the mildest term which
men apply to folly—will most likely prevent you from using
the prayer of the Lacedaemonians. You had better wait
until we find out how we should behave towards the Gods
and towards men.

_Al._ And how long must I wait, Socrates, and who will be
my teacher? I should be very glad to see the man.

_Soc._ It is he who takes an especial interest in you. But
first of all, I think, the darkness must be taken away in
which your soul is now enveloped, just as Athene in Homer
removes the mist from the eyes of Diomede that

‘He may distinguish between God and mortal man.’

Afterwards the means may be given to you whereby you
may distinguish between good and evil. At present, I fear,
this is beyond your power.

[Sidenote: _Alcibiades and his teacher._]

_Al._ Only let my instructor take away the impediment,
whether it pleases him to call it mist or anything else! I
care not who he is; but I am resolved to disobey none of
his commands, if I am likely to be the better for them.

_Soc._ And surely he has a wondrous care for you. 151

_Al._ It seems to be altogether advisable to put off the
sacrifice until he is found.

_Soc._ You are right: that will be safer than running such
a tremendous risk.

_Al._ But how shall we manage, Socrates?—At any rate
I will set this crown of mine upon your head, as you have
given me such excellent advice, and to the Gods we will
offer crowns and perform the other customary rites when
I see that day approaching: nor will it be long hence, if
they so will.

_Soc._ I accept your gift, and shall be ready and willing to
receive whatever else you may proffer. Euripides makes
Creon say in the play, when he beholds Tiresias with his
crown and hears that he has gained it by his skill as the
first-fruits of the spoil:—

‘An auspicious omen I deem thy victor’s wreath:
For well thou knowest that wave and storm oppress us[76].’

And so I count your gift to be a token of good-fortune; for
I am in no less stress than Creon, and would fain carry off
the victory over your lovers.

FOOTNOTES

[65] Cp. Aristotle, Pol. v. 10, § 17.

[66] Cp. Rep. x. 619 C.

[67] Hom. Odyss. i. 32.

[68] The author of these lines, which are probably of Pythagorean origin, is unknown. They are found also in the Anthology (Anth. Pal. 10. 108).

[69] These words are omitted in several MSS.

[70] The reading is here uncertain.

[71] Some words appear to have dropped out here.

[72] Euripides, Antiope, fr. 20 (Dindorf).

[73] Or, reading πολυμάθειαν, ‘abundant learning.’

[74] A fragment from the pseudo-Homeric poem, ‘Margites.’

[75] The Homeric word μάργος is said to be here employed in allusion to the quotation from the ‘Margites’ which Socrates has just made; but it is not used in the sense which it has in Homer.

[76] Phoeniss. 865, 866.

ERYXIAS.

INTRODUCTION.

[Sidenote: _Eryxias._]

Much cannot be said in praise of the style or conception of the Eryxias. It is frequently obscure; like the exercise of a student, it is full of small imitations of Plato:—Phaeax returning from an expedition to Sicily (cp. Socrates in the Charmides from the army at Potidaea), the figure of the game at draughts, 395 B, borrowed from Rep. vi. 487, etc. It has also in many passages the ring of sophistry. On the other hand, the rather unhandsome treatment which is exhibited towards Prodicus is quite unlike the urbanity of Plato.

Yet there are some points in the argument which are deserving of attention. (1) That wealth depends upon the need of it or demand for it, is the first anticipation in an abstract form of one of the great principles of modern political economy, and the nearest approach to it to be found in an ancient writer. (2) The resolution of wealth into its simplest implements going on to infinity is a subtle and refined thought. (3) That wealth is relative to circumstances is a sound conception. (4) That the arts and sciences which receive payment are likewise to be comprehended under the notion of wealth, also touches a question of modern political economy. (5) The distinction of _post hoc_ and _propter hoc_, often lost sight of in modern as well as in ancient times. These metaphysical conceptions and distinctions show considerable power of thought in the writer, whatever we may think of his merits as an imitator of Plato.

ERYXIAS.

_PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE._

SOCRATES. ERYXIAS. ERASISTRATUS. CRITIAS.

SCENE:—The portico of a temple of Zeus.

[Sidenote: _Eryxias._]

It happened by chance that Eryxias the Steirian was walking
with me in the Portico of Zeus the Deliverer, when there =Steph.= 392
came up to us Critias and Erasistratus, the latter the son of
Phaeax, who was the nephew of Erasistratus. Now Erasistratus
had just arrived from Sicily and that part of the world.
As they approached, he said, Hail, Socrates!

_Soc._ The same to you, I said; have you any good news
from Sicily to tell us?

_Eras._ Most excellent. But, if you please, let us first sit
down; for I am tired with my yesterday’s journey from
Megara.

_Soc._ Gladly, if that is your desire.

[Sidenote: _The nature of wealth._]

[Sidenote: The troublesome Sicilians.]

_Eras._ What would you wish to hear first? he said. What
the Sicilians are doing, or how they are disposed towards our
city? To my mind, they are very like wasps: so long as
you only cause them a little annoyance they are quite unmanageable;
you must destroy their nests if you wish to get
the better of them. And in a similar way, the Syracusans,
unless we set to work in earnest, and go against them with a
great expedition, will never submit to our rule. The petty
injuries which we at present inflict merely irritate them
enough to make them utterly intractable. And now they
have sent ambassadors to Athens, and intend, I suspect, to
play us some trick.—While we were talking, the Syracusan
envoys chanced to go by, and Erasistratus, pointing to one
of them, said to me, That, Socrates, is the richest man in
all Italy and Sicily. For who has larger estates or more
land at his disposal to cultivate if he please? And they
are of a quality, too, finer than any other land in Hellas.
Moreover, he has all the things which go to make up
wealth, slaves and horses innumerable, gold and silver
without end.

I saw that he was inclined to expatiate on the riches of the
man; so I asked him, Well, Erasistratus, and what sort of
character does he bear in Sicily?

[Sidenote: The wicked millionaire.]

_Eras._ He is esteemed to be, and really is, the wickedest of 393
all the Sicilians and Italians, and even more wicked than he
is rich; indeed, if you were to ask any Sicilian whom he
thought to be the worst and the richest of mankind, you
would never hear any one else named.

_Soc._ I reflected that we were speaking, not of trivial matters,
but about wealth and virtue, which are deemed to be of the
greatest moment, and I asked Erasistratus whom he considered
the wealthier,—he who was the possessor of a talent
of silver or he who had a field worth two talents?

_Eras._ The owner of the field.

_Soc._ And on the same principle he who had robes and
bedding and such things which are of greater value to him
than to a stranger would be richer than the stranger?

_Eras._ True.

_Soc._ And if any one gave you a choice, which of these
would you prefer?

_Eras._ That which was most valuable.

[Sidenote: Wealth consists of things which are valuable.]

_Soc._ In which way do you think you would be the
richer?

_Eras._ By choosing as I said.

_Soc._ And he appears to you to be the richest who has
goods of the greatest value?

_Eras._ He does.

[Sidenote: _Is wisdom the most valuable of all things?_]

_Soc._ And are not the healthy richer than the sick, since
health is a possession more valuable than riches to the sick?
Surely there is no one who would not prefer to be poor and
well, rather than to have all the King of Persia’s wealth and
to be ill. And this proves that men set health above wealth,
else they would never choose the one in preference to the
other.

_Eras._ True.

_Soc._ And if anything appeared to be more valuable than
health, he would be the richest who possessed it?

_Eras._ He would.

_Soc._ Suppose that some one came to us at this moment
and were to ask, Well, Socrates and Eryxias and Erasistratus,
can you tell me what is of the greatest value to men?
Is it not that of which the possession will best enable a man
to advise how his own and his friends’ affairs should be
administered?—What will be our reply?

_Eras._ I should say, Socrates, that happiness was the most
precious of human possessions.

_Soc._ Not a bad answer. But do we not deem those men
who are most prosperous to be the happiest?

_Eras._ That is my opinion.

_Soc._ And are they not most prosperous who commit the
fewest errors in respect either of themselves or of other
men?

_Eras._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And they who know what is evil and what is
good; what should be done and what should be left undone;—these
behave the most wisely and make the fewest 394
mistakes?

Erasistratus agreed to this.

_Soc._ Then the wisest and those who do best and the most
fortunate and the richest would appear to be all one and
the same, if wisdom is really the most valuable of our
possessions?

[Sidenote: Of what use would wisdom be, if a man had not the necessaries of life?]

Yes, said Eryxias, interposing, but what use would it be if
a man had the wisdom of Nestor and wanted the necessaries
of life, food and drink and clothes and the like? Where
would be the advantage of wisdom then? Or how could he
be the richest of men who might even have to go begging,
because he had not wherewithal to live?

[Sidenote: _Comparative claims of wisdom and of riches._]

I thought that what Eryxias was saying had some weight,
and I replied, Would the wise man really suffer in this way,
if he were so ill-provided; whereas if he had the house of
Polytion, and the house were full of gold and silver, he
would lack nothing?

_Eryx._ Yes; for then he might dispose of his property and
obtain in exchange what he needed, or he might sell it for
money with which he could supply his wants and in a moment
procure abundance of everything.

[Sidenote: The wisdom of Nestor better and even more saleable than the house of Polytion.]

[Sidenote: And in the arts is not wisdom better than riches?]

_Soc._ True, if he could find some one who preferred such a
house to the wisdom of Nestor. But if there are persons
who set great store by wisdom like Nestor’s and the advantages
accruing from it, to sell these, if he were so disposed,
would be easier still. Or is a house a most useful and
necessary possession, and does it make a great difference in
the comfort of life to have a mansion like Polytion’s instead
of living in a shabby little cottage, whereas wisdom is of small
use and it is of no importance whether a man is wise or
ignorant about the highest matters? Or is wisdom despised
of men and can find no buyers, although cypress wood and
marble of Pentelicus are eagerly bought by numerous purchasers?
Surely the prudent pilot or the skilful physician,
or the artist of any kind who is proficient in his art, is more
worth than the things which are especially reckoned among
riches; and he who can advise well and prudently for himself
and others is able also to sell the product of his art, if he so
desire.

Eryxias looked askance, as if he had received some unfair 395
treatment, and said, I believe, Socrates, that if you were
forced to speak the truth, you would declare that you were
richer than Callias the son of Hipponicus. And yet, although
you claimed to be wiser about things of real importance, you
would not any the more be richer than he.

[Sidenote: Eryxias is supposed to reply that arguments can prove anything and convince no one.]

[Sidenote: _The triangular argument of Socrates, Eryxias, Critias._]

I dare say, Eryxias, I said, that you may regard these arguments
of ours as a kind of game; you think that they have
no relation to facts, but are like the pieces in the game of
draughts which the player can move in such a way that his
opponents are unable to make any countermove[77]. And perhaps,
too, as regards riches you are of opinion that while
facts remain the same, there are arguments, no matter
whether true or false, which enable the user of them to prove
that the wisest and the richest are one and the same, although
he is in the wrong and his opponents are in the right.
There would be nothing strange in this; it would be as if
two persons were to dispute about letters, one declaring that
the word Socrates began with an S, the other that it began with
an A, and the latter could gain the victory over the former.

[Sidenote: Eryxias disclaims the answer which is attributed to him.]

Eryxias glanced at the audience, laughing and blushing at
once, as if he had had nothing to do with what had just been
said, and replied,—No, indeed, Socrates, I never supposed
that our arguments should be of a kind which would never
convince any one of those here present or be of advantage to
them. For what man of sense could ever be persuaded that
the wisest and the richest are the same? The truth is that
we are discussing the subject of riches, and my notion is that
we should argue respecting the honest and dishonest means
of acquiring them, and, generally, whether they are a good
thing or a bad.

[Sidenote: The argument is renewed from a fresh point of view. Eryxias declares riches to be a good; Critias maintains that they are sometimes an evil.]

Very good, I said, and I am obliged to you for the hint:
in future we will be more careful. But why do not you yourself,
as you introduced the argument, and do not think that
the former discussion touched the point at issue, tell us
whether you consider riches to be a good or an evil?

I am of opinion, he said, that they are a good. He was
about to add something more, when Critias interrupted him:—Do
you really suppose so, Eryxias?

Certainly, replied Eryxias; I should be mad if I did not:
and I do not fancy that you would find any one else of a contrary
opinion.

And I, retorted Critias, should say that there is no one
whom I could not compel to admit that riches are bad for
some men. But surely, if they were a good, they could not 396
appear bad for any one?

[Sidenote: _The irony of Socrates._]

[Sidenote: Socrates encourages the two disputants to follow up the argument.]

Here I interposed and said to them: If you two were
having an argument about equitation and what was the best
way of riding, supposing that I knew the art myself, I should
try to bring you to an agreement. For I should be ashamed
if I were present and did not do what I could to prevent
your difference. And I should do the same if you were
quarrelling about any other art and were likely, unless you
agreed on the point in dispute, to part as enemies instead of
as friends. But now, when we are contending about a thing
of which the usefulness continues during the whole of life,
and it makes an enormous difference whether we are to
regard it as beneficial or not,—a thing, too, which is esteemed
of the highest importance by the Hellenes:—(for parents,
as soon as their children are, as they think, come to years of
discretion, urge them to consider how wealth may be acquired,
since by riches the value of a man is judged):—When,
I say, we are thus in earnest, and you, who agree in
other respects, fall to disputing about a matter of such
moment, that is, about wealth, and not merely whether
it is black or white, light or heavy, but whether it is a
good or an evil, whereby, although you are now the dearest
of friends and kinsmen, the most bitter hatred may arise
betwixt you, I must hinder your dissension to the best of my
power. If I could, I would tell you the truth, and so put an
end to the dispute; but as I cannot do this, and each of you
supposes that you can bring the other to an agreement, I am
prepared, as far as my capacity admits, to help you in solving
the question. Please, therefore, Critias, try to make us
accept the doctrines which you yourself entertain.

_Crit._ I should like to follow up the argument, and will ask
Eryxias whether he thinks that there are just and unjust
men?

_Eryx._ Most decidedly.

_Crit._ And does injustice seem to you an evil or a good?

_Eryx._ An evil.

_Crit._ Do you consider that he who bribes his neighbour’s
wife and commits adultery with her, acts justly or unjustly,
and this although both the state and the laws forbid?

_Eryx._ Unjustly.

[Sidenote: Wealth may furnish the opportunity of crime.]

_Crit._ And if the wicked man has wealth and is willing to 397
spend it, he will carry out his evil purposes? whereas he
who is short of means cannot do what he fain would, and
therefore does not sin? In such a case, surely, it is better
that a person should not be wealthy, if his poverty prevents
the accomplishment of his desires, and his desires are evil?
Or, again, should you call sickness a good or an evil?

_Eryx._ An evil.

_Crit._ Well, and do you think that some men are intemperate?

[Sidenote: _The argument of Critias._]

_Eryx._ Yes.

_Crit._ Then, if it is better for his health that the intemperate
man should refrain from meat and drink and other pleasant
things, but he cannot owing to his intemperance, will it not
also be better that he should be too poor to gratify his lust
rather than that he should have a superabundance of means?
For thus he will not be able to sin, although he desire never
so much.

[Sidenote: Eryxias takes offence at Critias, whose argument, as Socrates pretends, is only the repetition of which one had been used by Prodicus of Ceos on the day before, and had been refuted by an impertinent youth.]

Critias appeared to be arguing so admirably that Eryxias,
if he had not been ashamed of the bystanders, would
probably have got up and struck him. For he thought that
he had been robbed of a great possession when it became
obvious to him that he had been wrong in his former opinion
about wealth. I observed his vexation, and feared that they
would proceed to abuse and quarrelling: so I said,—I heard
that very argument used in the Lyceum yesterday by a wise
man, Prodicus of Ceos; but the audience thought that he
was talking mere nonsense, and no one could be persuaded
that he was speaking the truth. And when at last a certain
talkative young gentleman came in, and, taking his seat,
began to laugh and jeer at Prodicus, tormenting him and
demanding an explanation of his argument, he gained the ear
of the audience far more than Prodicus.

Can you repeat the discourse to us? said Erasistratus.

_Soc._ If I can only remember it, I will. The youth began
by asking Prodicus, In what way did he think that riches
were a good and in what an evil? Prodicus answered, as
you did just now, that they were a good to good men and to
those who knew in what way they should be employed, while
to the bad and the ignorant they were an evil. The same is
true, he went on to say, of all other things; men make them
to be what they are themselves. The saying of Archilochus
is true:—

‘Men’s thoughts correspond to the things which they meet with.’

Well, then, replied the youth, if any one makes me wise in 398
that wisdom whereby good men become wise, he must also
make everything else good to me. Not that he concerns
himself at all with these other things, but he has converted
my ignorance into wisdom. If, for example, a person teach
me grammar or music, he will at the same time teach me all
that relates to grammar or music, and so when he makes me
good, he makes things good to me.

[Sidenote: _Prodicus corrected._]

Prodicus did not altogether agree: still he consented to
what was said.

And do you think, said the youth, that doing good things
is like building a house,—the work of human agency; or do
things remain what they were at first, good or bad, for all
time?

Prodicus began to suspect, I fancy, the direction which the
argument was likely to take, and did not wish to be put down
by a mere stripling before all those present:—(if they two
had been alone, he would not have minded):—so he
answered, cleverly enough: I think that doing good things
is a work of human agency.

And is virtue in your opinion, Prodicus, innate or acquired
by instruction?

The latter, said Prodicus.

Then you would consider him a simpleton who supposed
that he could obtain by praying to the Gods the knowledge
of grammar or music or any other art, which he must either
learn from another or find out for himself?

Prodicus agreed to this also.

And when you pray to the Gods that you may do well and
receive good, you mean by your prayer nothing else than
that you desire to become good and wise:—if, at least,
things are good to the good and wise and evil to the evil.
But in that case, if virtue is acquired by instruction, it would
appear that you only pray to be taught what you do not
know.

Hereupon I said to Prodicus that it was no misfortune to
him if he had been proved to be in error in supposing that
the Gods immediately granted to us whatever we asked:—if,
I added, whenever you go up to the Acropolis you earnestly
entreat the Gods to grant you good things, although you
know not whether they can yield your request, it is as though
you went to the doors of the grammarian and begged him,
although you had never made a study of the art, to give you
a knowledge of grammar which would enable you forthwith
to do the business of a grammarian.

[Sidenote: _What constitutes wealth?_]

[Sidenote: Prodicus is desired to leave the gymnasium because he is disturbing the minds of youth.]

While I was speaking, Prodicus was preparing to retaliate
upon his youthful assailant, intending to employ the argument 399
of which you have just made use; for he was annoyed
to have it supposed that he offered a vain prayer to the Gods.
But the master of the gymnasium came to him and begged
him to leave because he was teaching the youths doctrines
which were unsuited to them, and therefore bad for them.

I have told you this because I want you to understand
how men are circumstanced in regard to philosophy. Had
Prodicus been present and said what you have said, the
audience would have thought him raving, and he would
have been ejected from the gymnasium. But you have
argued so excellently well that you have not only persuaded
your hearers, but have brought your opponent to an agreement.
For just as in the law courts, if two witnesses testify
to the same fact, one of whom seems to be an honest fellow
and the other a rogue, the testimony of the rogue often has
the contrary effect on the judges’ minds to what he intended,
while the same evidence if given by the honest man at once
strikes them as perfectly true. And probably the audience
have something of the same feeling about yourself and Prodicus;
they think him a Sophist and a braggart, and regard
you as a gentleman of courtesy and worth. For they do not
pay attention to the argument so much as to the character of
the speaker.

[Sidenote: Socrates jesting professes to be in earnest.]

But truly, Socrates, said Erasistratus, though you may be
joking, Critias does seem to me to be saying something
which is of weight.

_Soc._ I am in profound earnest, I assure you. But why,
as you have begun your argument so prettily, do you not go
on with the rest? There is still something lacking, now
you have agreed that [wealth] is a good to some and an evil
to others. It remains to enquire what constitutes wealth;
for unless you know this, you cannot possibly come to an
understanding as to whether it is a good or an evil. I am
ready to assist you in the enquiry to the utmost of my power:
but first let him who affirms that riches are a good, tell us
what, in his opinion, is wealth.

_Eras._ Indeed, Socrates, I have no notion about wealth
beyond that which men commonly have. I suppose that
wealth is a quantity of money[78]; and this, I imagine, would
also be Critias’ definition.

[Sidenote: _Different kinds of money._]

[Sidenote: What is money? It is observed that different kinds of money pass current in different countries,—Carthage, Lacedaemon, Ethiopia, Scythia.]

_Soc._ Then now we have to consider, What is money? Or
else later on we shall be found to differ about the question.
For instance, the Carthaginians use money of this sort.
Something which is about the size of a stater is tied up in a 400
small piece of leather: what it is, no one knows but the makers.
A seal is next set upon the leather, which then passes into
circulation, and he who has the largest number of such
pieces is esteemed the richest and best off. And yet if any one
among us had a mass of such coins he would be no wealthier
than if he had so many pebbles from the mountain. At
Lacedaemon, again, they use iron by weight which has been
rendered useless: and he who has the greatest mass of such
iron is thought to be the richest, although elsewhere it has
no value. In Ethiopia engraved stones are employed, of
which a Lacedaemonian could make no use. Once more,
among the Nomad Scythians a man who owned the house of
Polytion would not be thought richer than one who possessed
Mount Lycabettus among ourselves. And clearly those things
cannot all be regarded as possessions; for in some cases the
possessors would appear none the richer thereby: but, as I
was saying, some one of them is thought in one place to be
money, and the possessors of it are the wealthy, whereas in
some other place it is not money, and the ownership of it
does not confer wealth; just as the standard of morals varies,
and what is honourable to some men is dishonourable to
others. And if we wish to enquire why a house is valuable to
us but not to the Scythians, or why the Carthaginians value
leather which is worthless to us, or the Lacedaemonians find
wealth in iron and we do not, can we not get an answer in
some such way as this: Would an Athenian, who had a
thousand talents weight of the stones which lie about in the
Agora and which we do not employ for any purpose, be
thought to be any the richer?

_Eras._ He certainly would not appear so to me.

_Soc._ But if he possessed a thousand talents weight of some
precious stone, we should say that he was very rich?

_Eras._ Of course.

[Sidenote: _Wealth must be useful._]

_Soc._ The reason is that the one is useless and the other
useful?

_Eras._ Yes.