Chapter IX: Part 9

_Cal._ You seem to me, Socrates, to act the boaster in your discourses, as being in truth a mob-orator: and now you thus declaim, since Polus has met with the same treatment as he objected Gorgias met with from you. 84. For he said that Gorgias, when asked by you, whether if one should come to him, wishing to learn rhetoric without being acquainted with justice, Gorgias would teach him, was ashamed, and said that he would teach him, on account of the custom among men, because they would be displeased if any one were to refuse: and that from this admission Gorgias was compelled to contradict himself, and you were delighted with this very circumstance; for which he then ridiculed you, as it appeared to me, very properly. And now he himself has in turn been treated the very same way; I, however, in this particular, do not commend Polus, because he has conceded to you, that to commit injustice is more base than to suffer it. For, from this admission, he being entangled by you in the discussion, has been brought to a check, because he was ashamed to say what he thought. For you in reality, Socrates, while you profess to be in search of truth, lead to such vulgar and popular things as these which are not beautiful by nature, but by law. For these are, for the most part, contrary to each other, nature and law. 85. If any one, therefore, is ashamed, and dares not say what he thinks, he is compelled to contradict himself. And you, having perceived this subtle distinction, deal unfairly in the discussion; for, if any one speaks of any thing according to law, you cunningly ask him about it according to nature, and if he speaks of things according to nature, you ask him about them according to law; as just now in the present discussion, respecting committing injustice and suffering it, when Polus spoke of that which is more base according to nature, you followed up the law _as if it were_ according to nature. For, by nature, every thing is more base which is also worse, as to suffer injustice, but by law to commit it. For to submit to injustice is not the condition of a man, but of a slave, to whom it is better to die than to live, since, being injured and disgraced, he is unable to defend himself or any one else for whom he has regard. But I think, those who make the laws are the weak and the many: they, therefore, make laws with a view to themselves and their own advantage, and with the same view they bestow praise and impute blame; and to terrify such men as are stronger, and who are able to acquire more, that they may not acquire more than themselves, they say that it is base and unjust to obtain a superiority, and that to endeavour to acquire more than others is to commit injustice. 86. For they are content, I think, if they, being weaker, have an equal portion. For this reason, therefore, by law it is said to be unjust and base to endeavour to possess more than the many, and they call this committing an injustice. But nature herself, I think, evinces, on the contrary, that it is just that the better should have more than the worse, and the more powerful than the weaker. And it is evident in many instances that it is so, both in other animals, and in whole cities and races of men, that the just is so settled that the superior should rule over the inferior, and possess more than they. For, with what justice did Xerxes make war upon Greece, or his father on the Scythians? or ten thousand other instances which one might adduce? But I think they do these things according to natural justice, and, by Jupiter, according to the law of nature; not, perhaps, according to that law which we have framed, taking the best and strongest amongst us from their youth, like lions, we tame them by incantations and juggleries, telling them that it is right to preserve equality, and that this is the beautiful and the just. 87. But, I think, if there should be a man found with sufficient natural power, having shaken off all these trammels, and broken through, and abandoned, and trampled under foot our written ordinances, and quackeries, and incantations, and laws contrary to nature, he, from being our slave, would rise up and prove himself our master; and then natural justice would shine forth. Pindar, too, appears to me to have declared what I now assert, in the ode in which he says that “law is the king of all, both mortals and immortals; and,” he adds, “he with most powerful hand makes use of might, calling it right; and this I infer from the deeds of Hercules, since _he drove away the oxen of Geryon_ unbought.” He speaks pretty much in this manner; for I do not remember the ode by heart. He says, then, that Hercules drove away the oxen of Geryon, without having either bought them, or received them as a gift, as if this were naturally just, that both oxen, and all other possessions, when the property of the worse and inferior, belong to the better and superior. Such, then, is the truth; and you will know that it is so, if, dismissing philosophy, you betake yourself to greater things. 88. For philosophy, Socrates, is an elegant thing, if one handles it moderately in youth; but if one dwells upon it longer then is becoming, it is the ruin of men. For if a man should have excellent abilities, and should study philosophy beyond the period of youth, he must necessarily become unskilled in all things in which he ought to be skilled, who desires to be a worthy, good, and distinguished man. For such men are unskilled in the laws of the city, and in those arguments which any one must use, who is conversant with the business transactions of men, both privately and publicly: they are likewise altogether unskilled in human pleasures and desires, and, in short, in the manners of men. When, therefore, they engage in any private or public business, they make themselves ridiculous, just as, I think, politicians are ridiculous when they meddle with your disputations and arguments. For that saying of Euripides[68] is verified: “Every one shines in this, and to this applies himself, consuming the greater part of the day in whatever he most excels.” But that wherein a man is weak he avoids, and abuses it, and praises the other through self-love, thinking thereby to praise himself: but I think the most correct way is to partake of both. 89. Of philosophy, indeed, so far as is requisite for education, it is well to partake, nor is it any disgrace for one who is young to study philosophy: but when a man who has reached an advanced age, still studies philosophy, Socrates, the thing becomes ridiculous; and I have very much the same feeling towards those who study philosophy, as to those who stammer and sport. For when I see a child whom it still becomes to talk thus stammering and sporting, I am delighted, and his conduct appears to me to be graceful and liberal, and suited to the age of a child. But when I hear a little boy talking with precision, it seems a disagreeable thing to me, and offends my ears, and appears to be somewhat servile. When, however, one hears a man stammering, or sees him sporting, it appears to be ridiculous, unmanly, and worthy of stripes. Now I have this same feeling towards those who study philosophy. For, when I see philosophy in a young man, I am delighted, and it appears to me becoming, and I consider such a man to be of a liberal mind, but if he does not study philosophy, I consider him illiberal, and one who will never think himself worthy of any noble or generous action. When, however, I see a man advanced in years still studying philosophy, and not having abandoned it, such a man, Socrates, appears to me to be deserving of stripes. 90. For, as I just now said, such a man, even though he has excellent abilities, must needs become unmanly, by avoiding the public places of the city, and the forum, in which, as the poet[69] says, men acquire celebrity, and by concealing himself from the public view, he passes the remainder of his life with three or four boys, whispering in a corner, but never utters any thing liberal, great, and becoming. But I, Socrates, am very friendly disposed towards you; and I seem to have the same feeling as Zethus towards Amphion in Euripides, whom I just now mentioned; for it occurs to me to say to you the same that he said to his brother: that you neglect, Socrates, what you ought to attend to, and strive to adorn the nature of a soul thus generous by a certain juvenile form; nor in deliberations of justice are you able to advance an argument correctly, nor lay hold of what is probable and persuasive, nor can you suggest vigorous advice for others. 91. However, my dear Socrates, (and do not be angry with me, for I speak out of good-will to you,) does it not appear to you to be base to be in the state in which I think you are, and others who continually make too great advances in philosophy? For now, if any one should arrest you, or any other of the same character, and should take you to prison, asserting that you had acted unjustly, when you had not, you are aware you would not know what to do for yourself; but you would lose your head and gape, and not have any thing to say; and when you went into a court of justice, having met with a very vile and despicable accuser, you would die, if he chose to charge you capitally. And indeed, Socrates, how can this be wise, if any art meeting with a man of good natural ability renders him worse, and neither able to assist himself, nor preserve either himself or any one else from the greatest dangers, but suffers him to be plundered of all his substance by enemies, and to live in the city utterly without honour? Such a man, (if I may speak somewhat rudely,) one may slap on the face with impunity. 92. But, my friend, be persuaded by me, and give up confuting, cultivate harmony of conduct, and employ yourself in what will give you a reputation for wisdom, leaving to others these graceful subtleties, whether it is proper to call them frivolities, or fooleries, “by which you will come to dwell in an empty house:” and emulate, not men who are able to confute these trifling things, but those who have wealth, renown, and many other goods.

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Footnote 68:

From the Antiope of Euripides. See Valckenaer Diatrib. in Eurip.
Reliquias, p. 76.

Footnote 69:

Homer, Iliad, ix. 441.

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_Socr._ If I happened to have a golden soul, Callicles, do you not think I should gladly find one of the best of those stones by which they test gold, to which applying it, if it should allow that my soul was well cultivated, I should then know for a certainty that I was in a good state, and that I had no further need of any other test?

_Cal._ Why do you ask this, Socrates?

_Socr._ I will now tell you. I think that in meeting with you, I have met with this good fortune.

_Cal._ Why so?

_Socr._ I well know, that if you agree with me in those things which my soul entertains, such things are the very truth. For I perceive that he who intends to examine sufficiently respecting his soul whether it lives uprightly or not, ought to possess three qualities, all which you do possess, viz., science, benevolence, and freedom of speech. 93. For I meet with many who are not able to test me, through not being wise as you are; but others are wise, indeed, but are not willing to speak the truth to me, because they are not concerned about me as you are. Thus these two strangers, Gorgias and Polus, are indeed wise, and my friends, but they are deficient in freedom of speech, and are more bashful than is proper. For how should it be otherwise? since they have reached such a pitch of bashfulness that through shamefacedness each of them dares to contradict himself before many persons, and this on the most important subjects. You however possess all these qualities, which the others have not. For you are both well instructed, as many of the Athenians will affirm, and are well-disposed towards me. What proof do I use? I know, Callicles, that you four have studied wisdom together, you, Tisander the Aphidnæan, Andron son of Androtion, and Nausicydes the Cholargean; and I once heard you deliberating how far wisdom ought to be cultivated, and I know that this opinion prevailed among you, that you should not endeavour to study philosophy with great accuracy; but you advised each other to be cautious, lest, by becoming more wise than is proper, you should destroy yourselves without perceiving it. 94. Since, then, I hear you giving me the very same advice that you gave to your most intimate friends, it is to me a sufficient proof that you are really well-disposed towards me. Moreover, that you are able to speak boldly and not be ashamed, both yourself say, and the speech which you just now made, evinces. The case is evidently this, with reference to our present discussion; if you shall agree with me in any thing, in our argument, that point will have been sufficiently examined by you and me, and it will be no longer necessary to put it to another test. For you would never have assented to it, either through deficiency of wisdom, or excess of bashfulness. Nor, again, would you have assented in order to deceive me: for you are my friend, as you have yourself said. In reality, therefore, your and my assent will have reached the perfect truth. But the most beautiful consideration of all, Callicles, with respect to the things about which you have reproved me, is that, viz., what kind of person a man ought to be, what he ought to study, and how far, both when he is advanced in life and when he is young. For, with respect to myself, if I do any thing in my life not rightly, be assured that I do not err willingly, but through my own ignorance. 95. Do you, therefore, as you have begun to advise me, not desist, but shew me clearly what it is that I ought to study, and in what way I may accomplish it. And if you find me now assenting to you, but in time to come not doing the things to which I have assented, then consider me as utterly stupid, and thenceforth give me no more advice, as being a man altogether worthless. But repeat it to me again from the beginning, how say you and Pindar is the case with natural justice? is it that the superior should take by force from the inferior, and that the better should rule over the worse, and that the more excellent should have more than the depraved? Do you say that the just is any thing else than this? or do I remember rightly?

_Cal._ These things I said then, and I say now.

_Socr._ But do you call the same person better and superior? For I was not able at the time to understand you, what you meant: whether do you call the stronger superior, and must the weaker submit to the stronger; as you seemed to me to intimate when you said, that great cities attack little ones by natural justice, because they are superior and stronger; as if the superior, the stronger, and the better, were the same; or is it possible to be better, and at the same time inferior and weaker, and to be superior, but more depraved? or is there the same definition of the better and the superior? Define this clearly for me, are the superior, the better, and the stronger, the same, or different?

_Cal._ Then I tell you clearly, that they are the same.

96. _Socr._ Are not, then, the many by nature superior to one? since they establish laws for the one, as you just now said?

_Cal._ How can it be otherwise?

_Socr._ The laws, then, of the many are those of such as are superior?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ Therefore, of the better? For, according to your account, the superior are far better.

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ Are not, then, their laws by nature beautiful, since they are superior?

_Cal._ I admit it.

_Socr._ Now do not the many think thus, as you just now said, that it is just to possess the equal, and that it is more base to injure than to be injured? Is this so, or not? And take care that you are not detected here in being shamefaced. Do the many think or not that to possess the equal, but not more, is just? and that it is more base to injure than to be injured? Do not refuse me an answer to this, Callicles, in order that, if you agree with me, I may be confirmed in my opinion by you, seeing that a man competent to decide has agreed with me.

97. _Cal._ The many, then, do think thus.

_Socr._ Not therefore by law only, but by nature also, it is more base to injure than to be injured, and just to possess the equal. So that you appear not to have spoken the truth before, nor to accuse me rightly, in saying that law and nature are contrary to each other, and that I, knowing this, deal unfairly in the discussion, if any one speaks according to nature, by leading him to law, and if any one speaks according to law, by leading him to nature.

_Cal._ This man will not cease trifling. Tell me, Socrates, are you not ashamed, at your age, to catch at words, and, if any one makes a mistake in an expression to consider it an unexpected gain? For, do you think that by the superior I mean any thing else than the better? Did I not tell you long since, that I consider the better and the superior to be the same? Do you suppose I mean, that if a crowd of slaves, and all sorts of men of no worth, except perhaps for bodily strength, should meet together, that what they should say[70] would be legal institutions?

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Footnote 70:

οὗτοι φῶσιν, αὐτὰ ταῦτα εἶναι νόμιμα; as if αὐτὰ ταῦτα preceded ἃ ἂν
φῶσιν. _See Stallbaum._

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_Socr._ Be it so, most wise Callicles: is that your meaning?

_Cal._ Certainly.

98. _Socr._ But I, Sir, long since suspected that you meant some such thing by the superior; and therefore I repeat the question, desiring to understand clearly what you do mean; for you surely do not think that two are better than one, nor that your slaves are better than you because they are stronger than you. Tell me then from the beginning whom you mean by the better, since you do not mean the stronger. And, my admirable friend, teach me in the outset in a milder manner, that I may not leave you.

_Cal._ You are bantering, Socrates.

_Socr._ By Zethus, no, Callicles, in whose name you just now bantered me a good deal. But come, tell me who do you mean are the better?

_Cal._ I mean the more excellent.

_Socr._ You see, then, that you yourself speak words, but explain nothing. Will you not tell me whether by the better and superior you mean the more wise, or some others?

_Cal._ But, by Jupiter, I mean these, certainly.

99. _Socr._ Often, therefore, according to your account, one wise man is superior to ten thousand that are not wise; and it is right that he should govern, and they be governed, and that the governor should have more than the governed. For you appear to me to wish to say this (and I do not catch at expressions), if one man is superior to ten thousand.

_Cal._ That is what I mean. For I think this is just by nature, that the better and the more wise should both govern and have more than the worthless.

_Socr._ Stop there. What then do you now say? If we were in the same place, as we now are, many men together, and had, in common, abundance of meat and drink, and were men of various descriptions, some strong, others weak, and one of us being a physician should happen to be more wise respecting these things, and should be (as is likely) stronger than some, and weaker than others, will it not follow that this man who is wiser than we are, will be better and superior with respect to these things?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ Should he, therefore, have more of these meats than we, because he is better? Or, because he is chief, ought he not to distribute the whole, but, in consuming and using them for his own body, not take more than others, under pain of injury to himself, but should have more than some, and less than others; and if he should happen to be the weakest of all, though the best, he must have least of all, Callicles? Is it not so, my friend?

100. _Cal._ You speak of meats and drinks, and physicians, and such trifles; but I do not speak of these.

_Socr._ Whether, then, do you say that the more wise is better? Grant or deny.

_Cal._ I do.

_Socr._ And do you not say that the better ought to have more?

_Cal._ Not of meats and drinks.

_Socr._ I understand. But perhaps of clothes, and the most skilful weaver should have the largest garment, and go about most abundantly and beautifully clad.

_Cal._ What garments do you mean?

_Socr._ And with respect to shoes, it is clear that he who is more skilled and best, should have more than others; the shoemaker, perhaps, ought to walk about with the largest and greatest number of shoes.

_Cal._ What shoes? Are you still trifling?

_Socr._ But if you do not mean such things, perhaps you do the following: for instance, that a husbandman, wise and skilled in the cultivation of land, should perhaps have more seeds than others, and use as much as possible on his own land.

101. _Cal._ How constantly you repeat the same things, Socrates.

_Socr._ Not only so, Callicles, but on the same subject.

_Cal._ By the gods, you never cease talking about shoemakers, fullers, cooks, and physicians, as if our discourse were about them.

_Socr._ Will you not tell me, then, with respect to what things a person should be superior and more wise, who having more than others, justly has more? Will you neither permit me to suggest, nor say yourself?

_Cal._ But I have said some time since. First, by the superior I do not mean shoemakers, or cooks, but those who are skilled in the affairs of a city, in what way they can be well administered, and not only skilled, but also brave, able to accomplish what they have conceived, and who do not fail through effeminacy of soul.

_Socr._ Do you see, most excellent Callicles, that you do not make the same objection to me that I do to you? For you allege that I always say the same things, and blame me for it; and I, on the contrary, complain of you, that you never say the same things on the same subjects; but at one time you defined the better and the superior to be the stronger, and at another time the more wise: and now again you come with something else; and certain persons that are braver are said by you to be the superior and better. But, my friend, tell me once for all, whom you call the better and superior, and in reference to what.

102. _Cal._ I have already said that they are such as are wise and brave, with respect to the affairs of a city. For it belongs to them to govern cities, and it is just that they should have more than others, the governors than the governed.

_Socr._ But what? my friend, as governing themselves, or being governed?

_Cal._ What mean you?

_Socr._ I mean that each person governs himself. Is there no occasion for this, that a man should govern himself, but only others?

_Cal._ What do you mean by governing himself?

_Socr._ Nothing uncommon; but as men frequently say, that a man is temperate, and master of himself, controlling the pleasures and desires that are within himself.

_Cal._ How ridiculous you are! By the temperate you mean the foolish.

_Socr._ How otherwise? There is no one but would know that that is my meaning[71].

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Footnote 71:

I have followed Stallbaum’s reading, οὐδεὶς ὅστις οὐκ ἂν γνοίη, ὅτι
οὕτω λέγω . Socrates grants his opponent’s erroneous inference, that
so he may be led on to a still greater absurdity.

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_Cal._ Most assuredly, Socrates; since how can a man be happy who is a slave to any one? But this it is which is beautiful, and just according to nature, and which I now freely tell you, _namely_, that a man who lives rightly should suffer his desires to be as great as possible, and should not restrain them; but should be able, when they are at their height, to minister to them by his courage and prudence, and satisfy each desire as it springs up. 103. This, however, I think, is not possible for the generality of men; wherefore they blame such persons through shame, to conceal their own impotency, and say that intemperance is base; as I said before, enslaving men of a better nature, and themselves not being able to satisfy their own pleasures, they praise temperance and justice, on account of their own effeminacy. For to those whom it has befallen from the first either to be the sons of kings, or who are able by nature to procure for themselves a government, or tyranny, or dynasty, what can be more disgraceful and base than temperance? who, when it is in their power to enjoy the good things of this life, and no one hinders them, impose a master on themselves, the law, discourse, and censure of the multitude? Or how should they be otherwise than miserable through the beauty of justice and temperance, while they impart no more to their friends than to their enemies, and this though they have supreme power in their own city? Thus, then, it stands with the truth, Socrates, which you say you are in search of: luxury, intemperance, and liberty, if they have the proper aids, these are virtue and felicity; but all those other fine things, those compacts contrary to nature, are extravagancies of men, and of no value.

104. _Socr._ Not at all ignobly, Callicles, have you expressed your opinions, speaking freely; for you now plainly say what others think, indeed, but are unwilling to say. I beg of you, therefore, on no account to relax, in order that it may really become evident how we ought to live. Come tell me: do you say that our desires ought not to be checked, if one intends to be such as one ought, and that, suffering them to be as great as possible, one ought to provide for their satisfaction from every possible source, and that this constitutes virtue?

_Cal._ I do say so.

_Socr._ They, therefore, who need nothing, are not rightly said to be happy.

_Cal._ For thus stones and the dead would be most happy.

_Socr._ But, indeed, even as you say, life is grievous. For in truth I should not wonder if Euripides speaks the truth when he says: “Who knows whether to live is not death, and to die, life?” And we, perhaps, are really dead; as I have heard from one of the wise, that we are now dead, and that the body is our sepulchre, and that the part of the soul in which the desires are is of such a nature that it can be persuaded different ways, and change upwards and downwards; and this, some skilful man, perhaps a Sicilian, or Italian, turning into a fable, by a slight change of the word[72], called a cask, from its being credulous and easily persuaded, but the foolish he called uninitiated. He further compared that part of the soul of the uninitiated in which the desires are, namely, its intemperate and unclosed part, to a pierced cask, on account of its insatiable greediness. 105. This man, too, quite contrary to you, Callicles, shews that of those in Hades (meaning thereby the invisible world) the most miserable must be the uninitiated, and that they carry water to a perforated cask by a similarly perforated sieve. The sieve, as he who spoke to me said, is the soul. But he likened the soul of the foolish to a sieve, as being perforated and not able to retain any thing, through incredulity and forgetfulness. This probably is somewhat absurd, nevertheless it shews that by proof of which I wish, if by any means I can, to persuade you to change your opinion, and to prefer to an insatiable and intemperate life one that is well regulated, and that is satisfied and contented with the things that are from time to time present. But do I persuade you at all, and do you change your opinion, and admit that the moderate are more happy than the intemperate? or have I produced no impression, and though I tell you many such fables, will you not be any the more disposed to change your opinion?

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Footnote 72:

The English language does not enable a translator to preserve the play
on the words πιθανὸν and πίθον, nor the equivoque in ἀμυήτους, which
means “leaky,” as well as “uninitiated.”

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_Cal._ In this you have spoken more truly, Socrates.

106. _Socr._ Come, then, I will mention to you another similitude from the same school as the preceding. For consider whether you would speak thus of each kind of life, the temperate and the intemperate, as if two men had each many casks; and that those of one were sound and full, one of wine, another of honey, a third of milk, and many others of other things; that the fountains of each were rare and difficult to be obtained, and could only be procured by many and severe toils; the one, then, having filled his casks, pours no more into them, nor is at all concerned about them, but on this score is at ease; that the fountains of the other, as of the former one, are possible to be procured, though with difficulty, that his vessels are perforated and defective, and he compelled, both night and day, to fill them, or suffer the most extreme pain. When such is the life of each, do you say that of the intemperate is more happy than that of the moderate man? Do I persuade you at all, by relating these things, to grant that a moderate life is better than an intemperate one, or do I not persuade you?

_Cal._ You do not persuade me, Socrates. For he that has filled his casks has no longer any pleasure: but this is, what I just now mentioned, to live like a stone, when he has filled them, neither rejoicing any more nor grieving: but a pleasant life consists in as much flowing in as possible.

107. _Socr._ Is it not, therefore, necessary, if much flows in, that much also should go out, and that there should be certain large holes for its flowing out?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ You speak now of the life of a sea-lark[73], and not of a corpse, or a stone. But tell me, do you mean such a thing as being hungry, and, when hungry, eating?

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Footnote 73:

Χαραδριὸς, a bird which Aristotle tells us (Hist. Anim., l. ix. c. 11)
“appears in the night and runs off in the day.” See note to Cary’s
Birds of Aristophanes, act i. sc. 4.

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_Cal._ I do.

_Socr._ And of being thirsty, and, when thirsty, drinking?

_Cal._ I do mean that, and that he who has all other desires, and, having the power to do so, satisfies them, lives a joyful and happy life.

_Socr._ Well done, my excellent friend! Proceed as you have begun, and take care not to be ashamed. But it is right, too, as it seems, that neither should I be ashamed. And first of all, tell me if, when a man, who is scabby and itches, is able to scratch himself without stint, and passes his life in scratching himself, this is to live happily?

_Cal._ How absurd you are, Socrates, and a mere babbler.

_Socr._ Hence it is, Callicles, that I have astonished Polus and Gorgias, and made them ashamed. You, however, will not be astonished nor ashamed, for you are courageous: but only answer me.

108. _Cal._ I say, then, that he who scratches himself lives pleasantly.

_Socr._ Therefore, if pleasantly, also happily?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ Will this be the case if he only itches in his head, or must I ask you still further? Consider, Callicles, what answer you would give, if any one asks you respecting all the parts of the body in succession. And to take that which is the chief of all, is not the life of catamites dreadful, base, and wretched? Will you dare to call them happy, if they have what they desire, without stint?

_Cal._ Are you not ashamed, Socrates, to lead the discussion to such subjects?

_Socr._ Do I lead it hither, noble Sir, or does he who asserts thus broadly, that such as rejoice, in whatever way they rejoice, are happy, and does not distinguish between pleasures, what are good and what are bad? But tell me further still, whether do you say that the pleasant and the good are the same: or that there is something pleasant which is not good?

_Cal._ In order that my argument may not contradict itself, if I should say they are different, I say that they are the same.

109. _Socr._ You subvert your former statements, Callicles, and no longer search for the truth with me properly, if you speak contrary to your real opinion.

_Cal._ And you do the same, Socrates.

_Socr._ Neither, then, do I act rightly, if I do so, nor do you. But, good Sir, consider whether to rejoice in any way be not good. For it is clear that many base consequences, which were just now hinted at, will follow, if this should be the case, and many others besides.

_Cal._ As you think, at least, Socrates.

_Socr._ Do you in reality, Callicles, persist in your assertion?

_Cal._ I do.

_Socr._ Shall we then enter on the discussion, as if you were in earnest?

_Cal._ Most certainly.

_Socr._ Come, then, since you are of that opinion, explain this to me. Do you call science any thing?

_Cal._ I do.

_Socr._ And did you not just now say, that there is a certain courage joined with science?

_Cal._ I did say so.

_Socr._ Did you speak of these two, as if courage was different from science?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ But what? Are pleasure and science the same, or different?

_Cal._ Different, surely, most wise friend.

_Socr._ Is courage also different from pleasure?

_Cal._ Undoubtedly.

110. _Socr._ Come, then, let us retain these things in our memory; that Callicles of Acharne said that the pleasant and the good are the same; but that science and courage are different both from each other and the good.

_Cal._ But Socrates of Alopecia does not agree to this; does he agree?

_Socr._ He does not agree: and I think neither will Callicles when he has rightly examined himself. For tell me, do you not think that those who fare well are affected in a manner quite contrary to those who fare ill?

_Cal._ I do.

_Socr._ If these, therefore, are contrary to each other, is it not necessary that the case should be the same with them as it is with health and disease? For, surely, a man is not at the same time well and diseased, nor at the same time separated from health and disease.

_Cal._ How say you?

_Socr._ For instance, take any part of the body you please, and consider. Has not a man sometimes a disease in the eyes, which is called ophthalmia?

_Cal._ Undoubtedly.

_Socr._ And his eyes, surely, are not at the same time well?

_Cal._ Certainly not.

_Socr._ But what? When he is freed from the ophthalmia, does he then also lose the health of his eyes, and, in a word, is he at the same time freed from both?

_Cal._ By no means.

_Socr._ For that, I think, would be wonderful and absurd. Would it not?

_Cal._ Assuredly.

111. _Socr._ But I think he, alternately, receives one, and loses the other.

_Cal._ I admit it.

_Socr._ And will it not be the same with regard to strength and weakness?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ And swiftness and slowness?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ And with respect to things good and happiness, and their contraries, things evil and wretchedness, does he receive and part from each of these alternately?

_Cal._ Most assuredly.

_Socr._ If, therefore, we should find certain things which a man at the same time parts from and possesses, it is clear that these would not be both good and evil. Do we agree to this? Consider well and answer me.

_Cal._ I agree entirely.

_Socr._ Let us then recur to what was before agreed on. Did you say that to be hungry is pleasant, or painful? I mean the very fact of being hungry.

_Cal._ I said it was painful: though to eat when hungry is pleasant.

_Socr._ I understand you: but to be hungry of itself is painful; is it not so?

_Cal._ I admit it.

_Socr._ And also to be thirsty?

_Cal._ Assuredly.

112. _Socr._ Whether, then, shall I ask you any more questions? Or do you allow that all want and desire is painful?

_Cal._ I allow it; so do not ask.

_Socr._ Be it so. And do you not say that for a man to drink when he is thirsty is pleasant?

_Cal._ I do.

_Socr._ In the instance then of which you are speaking, to be thirsty is, doubtless, painful?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ But to drink is the satisfying of a want, and a pleasure?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ Therefore as to drinking you say that the man rejoices?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ But as to being thirsty?

_Cal._ I say—

_Socr._ That he suffers pain?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ Do you perceive then what follows? that you say he who is in pain at the same time rejoices, when you say that he who is thirsty drinks. And does not this happen at the same place and time, with respect either to the soul or body, whichever you please? For I think there is no difference. Is this so, or not?

_Cal._ It is.

_Socr._ You admitted, however, that it was impossible for one who fares well at the same time to fare ill.

_Cal._ I allow it.

_Socr._ But you have granted that it is possible for one who is in pain to rejoice.

_Cal._ It appears so.

_Socr._ To rejoice, therefore, is not to fare well, nor to be in pain, ill: so that the pleasant is different from the good?

_Cal._ I know not what subtleties you are using, Socrates.

113. _Socr._ You know, though you pretend not, Callicles.

_Cal._ Proceed still further, trifling as you are, that you may know how wise you are who take upon yourself to admonish me.

_Socr._ Does not each of us at the same time cease to be thirsty, and to receive pleasure from drinking?

_Cal._ I do not know what you mean.

_Gorg._ Say not so, Callicles; but answer for our sakes, that the discussion may be brought to a conclusion.

_Cal._ But this is always the way with Socrates, Gorgias, he asks trifling questions, and things that are of no consequence, and then refutes them.

_Gorg._ But what difference does that make to you? That is no concern at all of yours: but suffer Socrates to argue in whatever way he pleases.

_Cal._ Ask, then, these trifling and petty questions, since Gorgias thinks proper.

_Socr._ You are happy, Callicles, in that you have been initiated in the great mysteries before you were in the small: but I thought that was not allowed. Answer me, then, from the point where you left off, does not each of us at the same time cease to be thirsty, and to receive pleasure?

_Cal._ I admit it.

_Socr._ And does not one cease to be hungry and to feel other desires and pleasures at the same time?

_Cal._ Such is the case.

_Socr._ Does one not, then, at the same time cease to feel both pains and pleasures?

_Cal._ Yes.

114. _Socr._ However one does not at the same time cease to experience good and evil, as you admitted; but now do you not admit it?

_Cal._ I do. But what then?

_Socr._ It follows, my friend, that good things are not the same with such as are pleasant, nor evil things with such as are painful. For, from these one ceases at the same time, but not from those, because they are different. How, therefore, can pleasant things be the same with such as are good, or painful things with such as are evil? But, if you please, consider it in this way: for I think that you are not even thus agreed with yourself. Consider then. Do you not call the good good, from the presence of good things, just as you call those beautiful to whom beauty is present?

_Cal._ I do.

_Socr._ But what? Do you call foolish men and cowards good men? For you did not just now; but you said the brave and prudent were so. Do you not call these good?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ But what? Have you ever seen a boy without understanding, rejoicing?

_Cal._ I have.

_Socr._ And have you not also seen a man without understanding, rejoicing?

_Cal._ I think I have. But to what purpose is this?

_Socr._ Nothing: answer however.

_Cal._ I have seen it.

_Socr._ But what? have you seen a man endued with intellect grieving and rejoicing?

_Cal._ I have.

115. _Socr._ But which rejoice and grieve the more; the wise, or the foolish?

_Cal._ I think there is not much difference.

_Socr._ That is enough. In war have you ever seen a coward?

_Cal._ Most assuredly.

_Socr._ What then? On the departure of the enemy which appeared to you to rejoice the more, the cowards or the brave?

_Cal._ Both appeared to me to rejoice more: or, if not, in nearly the same degree.

_Socr._ It is of no consequence. Cowards, then, also rejoice?

_Cal._ Very much so.

_Socr._ And the foolish, as it seems?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ But, when the enemy approaches, do cowards only grieve? or do the brave also?

_Cal._ Both.

_Socr._ In an equal degree?

_Cal._ Cowards perhaps more.

_Socr._ But, when the enemy departs, do they not rejoice more?

_Cal._ Perhaps so.

_Socr._ Do not, therefore, as you say, the foolish and the wise, cowards and the brave, similarly grieve and rejoice, much in the same degree, but cowards more than the brave?

_Cal._ I admit it.

_Socr._ The wise however and the brave are good, but cowards and the foolish bad?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ The good and the bad, therefore, rejoice and grieve equally?

_Cal._ I admit it.

116. _Socr._ Are, then, the good and the bad, good and bad in an equal degree? or are the bad yet more good and bad?

_Cal._ By Jupiter, I do not know what you mean.

_Socr._ Do you not know that you said the good are good, through the presence of good things, and the bad through the presence of evil things? And that pleasures are good things, and pains evil?

_Cal._ I did.

_Socr._ Are not, therefore, good things, viz., pleasures, present with those that rejoice, if they do rejoice?

_Cal._ Undoubtedly.

_Socr._ And since good things are present are not they who rejoice good?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ But what? Are not evil things, viz., pains, present with those that suffer pain?

_Cal._ They are present.

_Socr._ But do you not say that the bad are bad, through the presence of evil things? Or do you say so no longer?

_Cal._ I do.

_Socr._ Those, therefore, that rejoice, are good; but those that suffer pain are bad?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ And those that are more so, more, but those that are less so, less? and those that are equally so, equally?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ Do you not say, then, that the wise and the foolish, cowards and the brave, rejoice and grieve in an equal degree, or cowards even more?

_Cal._ I do.

117. _Socr._ Now in common with me, draw the inferences that result from these admissions. For, they say, it is beautiful to repeat and consider beautiful things twice, and even thrice. We say, that the prudent and brave man is good; do we not?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ But that the foolish man and a coward is bad?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ Again, that he who rejoices is good?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ And that he who suffers pain is bad?

_Cal._ Necessarily so.

_Socr._ And that the good and the bad suffer pain and rejoice equally, but perhaps the bad more?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ Therefore, the bad man becomes equally bad and good, with the good man, or even more good? Do not these results follow, as well as the former ones, if one says that the pleasant and the good are the same? Are not these consequences necessary, Callicles?

_Cal._ I have been long listening to you, Socrates, and making concessions, considering with myself that if any one grants you any thing, even in jest, you seize it eagerly as boys do. And can you suppose that I or any other person in the world does not believe that some pleasures are better, and others worse?

118. _Socr._ Ho, Ho! Callicles, how cunning you are! You treat me as a child, now asserting that these things are in this manner, and now in another manner; trying to deceive me. Though, at the outset, I did not think that I should be purposely deceived by you, because you are my friend. But now I have been mistaken, and as it seems, must needs, according to the old proverb, make good use of what I have, and receive what you give me. What you now say, as it appears, is this, that some pleasures are good, others bad; is it not so?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Socr._ And are not the profitable good, and the noxious bad?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ And those which effect a certain good, are profitable, but those which effect a certain evil, bad?

_Cal._ I admit it.

_Socr._ Do you not speak then of such as the following; as for instance, with respect to the body, those pleasures which we just now mentioned of eating and drinking; and if some of these produce in the body health or strength, or some other bodily excellences, are they not good, but those that produce the contraries of these, evil?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ And are not pains, in like manner, some beneficial, others injurious?

_Cal._ Undoubtedly.

_Socr._ Ought we not, therefore, both to choose and to exercise ourselves in such pleasures and pains as are beneficial?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ But not such as are injurious?

_Cal._ That is evident.

119. _Socr._ For, if you remember, it was agreed between us, Polus and me, that all things should be done for the sake of what is good. And do you agree with us in thinking, that the good is the end of all actions, and that all other things ought to be done for its sake, but not it for the sake of other things? Do you accord with us and make up the third?

_Cal._ I do.

_Socr._ We ought, then, to do both all other things and such as are pleasant, for the sake of things good, but not good things for the sake of such as are pleasant?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Socr._ Is every man, therefore, able to choose among pleasant things such as are good, and such as are evil? or is there need of a person skilled in each case?

_Cal._ Of a person skilled.

_Socr._ Let us then again call to mind what I said to Polus and Gorgias. I said, if you remember, that there are certain occupations which regard pleasure, and are occupied in this alone, but are ignorant of the better and the worse; but that there are others that know both what is good and what is evil. And I have placed among those which have pleasure for their object, cookery, as a skill relating to the body, but not an art; and among those that have the good for their object I placed the medicinal art. 120. And by the god of friendship, Callicles, think not that you ought to jest with me, nor give any answer that may occur to you contrary to your opinion, nor receive what I say as if I were in jest. For you see that our discourse is on a subject, than which there is none that a man endued even with the smallest understanding would take more pains about, namely in what way we ought to live, whether in such a way as that to which you exhort me, engaging in such employments of a man, as speaking among the people, cultivating rhetoric, and applying oneself to political affairs, in the manner which you now do; or whether we should devote ourselves to a philosophic life, and in what the latter differs from the former. Perhaps, then, it is best, as I just now attempted, to make a distinction; and when we have distinguished and agreed with each other, that these are two kinds of life, then to consider in what they differ from each other, and which of them ought to be pursued. Perhaps, however, you do not yet understand what I mean.

121. _Cal._ I do not, indeed.

_Socr._ I will explain it to you more clearly. Since we have agreed, you and I, that there is something good, and something pleasant, and that the pleasant is different from the good, and that there is a certain study and preparation for the acquirement of each of them, one being a search after the pleasant, and the other after the good—however, first of all, grant me this, or not; do you grant it?

_Cal._ I do.

_Socr._ Come then, concede to me also what I said to these men, if at the time I appeared to you to speak the truth. I said that cookery does not appear to me to be an art, but a skill; and that medicine is an art; for I said that medicine considers the nature of that which it cures, and the cause of the things that it does, and is able to give an account of each of these: but that the other, being concerned about pleasure, to which its whole attention is directed, proceeds to it without any art at all, neither considering the nature nor the cause of pleasure, altogether without reason, and in a word incapable of giving any account of itself, a mere practice and skill, only preserving the memory of that which usually takes place, by which also it supplies pleasures. 122. First of all, then, consider whether these things appear to you to have been sufficiently established, and that there are also certain other corresponding studies relating to the soul, of which some follow rules of art, and regard what is best for the soul; but others that neglect this, and consider only, as in the former case, the pleasure of the soul, in what way it may be procured; but paying no attention to which pleasure is better or worse, nor caring for any thing else than gratification only, whether it be better or worse. For my part, Callicles, there appear to me to be such studies; and I say that such a thing is flattery, as well in relation to the body as the soul, and to any thing else the pleasure of which one sedulously attends to, without paying any regard to the better and the worse. But do you entertain the same opinion as we do respecting these things, or do you gainsay it?

_Cal._ No, but I yield this point in order that our discussion may be brought to a close, and that I may gratify Gorgias here.

_Socr._ Does this take place with respect to one soul, but not with respect to two and several?

_Cal._ No; but it takes place with respect to two and several.