'So charming left his voice, that I the while Thought him still
speaking; still stood fixed to hear (Borrowed by Milton, "Paradise
Lost".).'
At length, when the truth dawned upon me, that he had really finished,
not without difficulty I began to collect myself, and looking at
Hippocrates, I said to him: O son of Apollodorus, how deeply grateful
I am to you for having brought me hither; I would not have missed the
speech of Protagoras for a great deal. For I used to imagine that no
human care could make men good; but I know better now. Yet I have still
one very small difficulty which I am sure that Protagoras will easily
explain, as he has already explained so much. If a man were to go and
consult Pericles or any of our great speakers about these matters, he
might perhaps hear as fine a discourse; but then when one has a question
to ask of any of them, like books, they can neither answer nor ask;
and if any one challenges the least particular of their speech, they
go ringing on in a long harangue, like brazen pots, which when they
are struck continue to sound unless some one puts his hand upon them;
whereas our friend Protagoras can not only make a good speech, as he has
already shown, but when he is asked a question he can answer briefly;
and when he asks he will wait and hear the answer; and this is a very
rare gift. Now I, Protagoras, want to ask of you a little question,
which if you will only answer, I shall be quite satisfied. You were
saying that virtue can be taught;--that I will take upon your authority,
and there is no one to whom I am more ready to trust. But I marvel at
one thing about which I should like to have my mind set at rest. You
were speaking of Zeus sending justice and reverence to men; and several
times while you were speaking, justice, and temperance, and holiness,
and all these qualities, were described by you as if together they made
up virtue. Now I want you to tell me truly whether virtue is one whole,
of which justice and temperance and holiness are parts; or whether all
these are only the names of one and the same thing: that is the doubt
which still lingers in my mind.
There is no difficulty, Socrates, in answering that the qualities of
which you are speaking are the parts of virtue which is one.
And are they parts, I said, in the same sense in which mouth, nose, and
eyes, and ears, are the parts of a face; or are they like the parts of
gold, which differ from the whole and from one another only in being
larger or smaller?
I should say that they differed, Socrates, in the first way; they are
related to one another as the parts of a face are related to the whole
face.
And do men have some one part and some another part of virtue? Or if a
man has one part, must he also have all the others?
By no means, he said; for many a man is brave and not just, or just and
not wise.
You would not deny, then, that courage and wisdom are also parts of
virtue?
Most undoubtedly they are, he answered; and wisdom is the noblest of the
parts.
And they are all different from one another? I said.
Yes.
And has each of them a distinct function like the parts of the
face;--the eye, for example, is not like the ear, and has not the same
functions; and the other parts are none of them like one another, either
in their functions, or in any other way? I want to know whether the
comparison holds concerning the parts of virtue. Do they also differ
from one another in themselves and in their functions? For that is
clearly what the simile would imply.
Yes, Socrates, you are right in supposing that they differ.
Then, I said, no other part of virtue is like knowledge, or like
justice, or like courage, or like temperance, or like holiness?
No, he answered.
Well then, I said, suppose that you and I enquire into their natures.
And first, you would agree with me that justice is of the nature of a
thing, would you not? That is my opinion: would it not be yours also?
Mine also, he said.
And suppose that some one were to ask us, saying, 'O Protagoras, and
you, Socrates, what about this thing which you were calling justice, is
it just or unjust?'--and I were to answer, just: would you vote with me
or against me?
With you, he said.
Thereupon I should answer to him who asked me, that justice is of the
nature of the just: would not you?
Yes, he said.
And suppose that he went on to say: 'Well now, is there also such a
thing as holiness?'--we should answer, 'Yes,' if I am not mistaken?
Yes, he said.
Which you would also acknowledge to be a thing--should we not say so?
He assented.
'And is this a sort of thing which is of the nature of the holy, or
of the nature of the unholy?' I should be angry at his putting such a
question, and should say, 'Peace, man; nothing can be holy if holiness
is not holy.' What would you say? Would you not answer in the same way?
Certainly, he said.
And then after this suppose that he came and asked us, 'What were you
saying just now? Perhaps I may not have heard you rightly, but you
seemed to me to be saying that the parts of virtue were not the same as
one another.' I should reply, 'You certainly heard that said, but not,
as you imagine, by me; for I only asked the question; Protagoras gave
the answer.' And suppose that he turned to you and said, 'Is this
true, Protagoras? and do you maintain that one part of virtue is unlike
another, and is this your position?'--how would you answer him?