CALLICLES. GORGIAS. SOCRATES. POLUS. CHAEREPHON.

SCENE:—The house of Callicles.

[Sidenote: _Gorgias._]

_Callicles._ The wise man, as the proverb says, is late for a

fray, but not for a feast. =Steph.= 447

_Socrates._ And are we late for a feast?

_Cal._ Yes, and a delightful feast; for Gorgias has just been

exhibiting to us many fine things.

_Soc._ It is not my fault, Callicles; our friend Chaerephon

is to blame; for he would keep us loitering in the Agora.

_Chaerephon._ Never mind, Socrates; the misfortune of

which I have been the cause I will also repair; for Gorgias

is a friend of mine, and I will make him give the exhibition

again either now, or, if you prefer, at some other time.

_Cal._ What is the matter, Chaerephon—does Socrates want

to hear Gorgias?

_Chaer._ Yes, that was our intention in coming.

_Cal._ Come into my house, then; for Gorgias is staying

with me, and he shall exhibit to you.

_Soc._ Very good, Callicles; but will he answer our questions?

for I want to hear from him what is the nature of his

art, and what it is which he professes and teaches; he may,

as you [Chaerephon] suggest, defer the exhibition to some

other time.

_Cal._ There is nothing like asking him, Socrates; and indeed

to answer questions is a part of his exhibition, for he

was saying only just now, that any one in my house might

put any question to him, and that he would answer.

[Sidenote: _Gorgias is ready to answer all comers._]

_Soc._ How fortunate! will you ask him, Chaerephon—?

_Chaer._ What shall I ask him?

_Soc._ Ask him who he is.

_Chaer._ What do you mean?

_Soc._ I mean such a question as would elicit from him, if he

had been a maker of shoes, the answer that he is a cobbler.

Do you understand?

_Chaer._ I understand, and will ask him: Tell me, Gorgias,

is our friend Callicles right in saying that you undertake to

answer any questions which you are asked?

_Gorgias._ Quite right, Chaerephon: I was saying as much

only just now; and I may add, that many years have elapsed 448

since any one has asked me a new one.

_Chaer._ Then you must be very ready, Gorgias.

_Gor._ Of that, Chaerephon, you can make trial.

[Sidenote: Polus offers to take the place of Gorgias in the argument.]

_Polus._ Yes, indeed, and if you like, Chaerephon, you may

make trial of me too, for I think that Gorgias, who has been

talking a long time, is tired.

_Chaer._ And do you, Polus, think that you can answer

better than Gorgias?

_Pol._ What does that matter if I answer well enough for

you?

_Chaer._ Not at all:—and you shall answer if you like.

_Pol._ Ask:—

_Chaer._ My question is this: If Gorgias had the skill of his

brother Herodicus, what ought we to call him? Ought he

not to have the name which is given to his brother?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Chaer._ Then we should be right in calling him a physician?

_Pol._ Yes.

[Sidenote: The question is asked, ‘What is Gorgias?’]

_Chaer._ And if he had the skill of Aristophon the son of

Aglaophon, or of his brother Polygnotus, what ought we to

call him?

_Pol._ Clearly, a painter.

_Chaer._ But now what shall we call him—what is the art in

which he is skilled?

[Sidenote: _Gorgias supersedes Polus._]

[Sidenote: Answer:—Gorgias is one of the best proficients in the noblest

art.]

_Pol._ O Chaerephon, there are many arts among mankind

which are experimental, and have their origin in experience,

for experience makes the days of men to proceed according

to art, and inexperience according to chance, and different

persons in different ways are proficient in different arts, and

the best persons in the best arts. And our friend Gorgias is

one of the best, and the art in which he is a proficient is the

noblest.

_Soc._ Polus has been taught how to make a capital speech,

Gorgias; but he is not fulfilling the promise which he made

to Chaerephon.

_Gor._ What do you mean, Socrates?

_Soc._ I mean that he has not exactly answered the question

which he was asked.

_Gor._ Then why not ask him yourself?

_Soc._ But I would much rather ask you, if you are disposed

to answer: for I see, from the few words which Polus has

uttered, that he has attended more to the art which is called

rhetoric than to dialectic.

_Pol._ What makes you say so, Socrates?

[Sidenote: This is no answer.]

_Soc._ Because, Polus, when Chaerephon asked you what

was the art which Gorgias knows, you praised it as if you

were answering some one who found fault with it, but you

never said what the art was.

_Pol._ Why, did I not say that it was the noblest of arts?

_Soc._ Yes, indeed, but that was no answer to the question:

nobody asked what was the quality, but what was the nature,

of the art, and by what name we were to describe Gorgias.

And I would still beg you briefly and clearly, as you 449

answered Chaerephon when he asked you at first, to say

what this art is, and what we ought to call Gorgias: Or

rather, Gorgias, let me turn to you, and ask the same question,—what

are we to call you, and what is the art which you

profess?

[Sidenote: Better:—Gorgias is a rhetorician and a teacher of rhetoric.]

_Gor._ Rhetoric, Socrates, is my art.

_Soc._ Then I am to call you a rhetorician?

_Gor._ Yes, Socrates, and a good one too, if you would call

me that which, in Homeric language, ‘I boast myself

to be.’

_Soc._ I should wish to do so.

_Gor._ Then pray do.

[Sidenote: _The admirable brevity of Gorgias._]

_Soc._ And are we to say that you are able to make other

men rhetoricians?

_Gor._ Yes, that is exactly what I profess to make them, not

only at Athens, but in all places.

_Soc._ And will you continue to ask and answer questions,

Gorgias, as we are at present doing, and reserve for another

occasion the longer mode of speech which Polus was attempting?

Will you keep your promise, and answer shortly the

questions which are asked of you?

_Gor._ Some answers, Socrates, are of necessity longer; but

I will do my best to make them as short as possible; for a

part of my profession is that I can be as short as any one.

_Soc._ That is what is wanted, Gorgias; exhibit the shorter

method now, and the longer one at some other time.

_Gor._ Well, I will; and you will certainly say, that you

never heard a man use fewer words.

_Soc._ Very good then; as you profess to be a rhetorician,

and a maker of rhetoricians, let me ask you, with what is

rhetoric concerned: I might ask with what is weaving concerned,

and you would reply (would you not?), with the

making of garments?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ And music is concerned with the composition of

melodies?

_Gor._ It is.

_Soc._ By Herè, Gorgias, I admire the surpassing brevity of

your answers.

_Gor._ Yes, Socrates, I do think myself good at that.

[Sidenote: And rhetoric is concerned with discourse.]

_Soc._ I am glad to hear it; answer me in like manner about

rhetoric: with what is rhetoric concerned?

_Gor._ With discourse.

_Soc._ What sort of discourse, Gorgias?—such discourse as

would teach the sick under what treatment they might get

well?

_Gor._ No.

_Soc._ Then rhetoric does not treat of all kinds of discourse?

_Gor._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ And yet rhetoric makes men able to speak?

_Gor._ Yes.

[Sidenote: _How is rhetoric distinguished from more special arts?_]

_Soc._ And to understand that about which they speak?

_Gor._ Of course.

_Soc._ But does not the art of medicine, which we were just

now mentioning, also make men able to understand and 450

speak about the sick?

_Gor._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then medicine also treats of discourse?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ Of discourse concerning diseases?

_Gor._ Just so.

_Soc._ And does not gymnastic also treat of discourse concerning

the good or evil condition of the body?

_Gor._ Very true.

[Sidenote: But so are all the other arts.]

_Soc._ And the same, Gorgias, is true of the other arts:—all

of them treat of discourse concerning the subjects with which

they severally have to do.

_Gor._ Clearly.

_Soc._ Then why, if you call rhetoric the art which treats of

discourse, and all the other arts treat of discourse, do you

not call them arts of rhetoric?

_Gor._ Because, Socrates, the knowledge of the other arts

has only to do with some sort of external action, as of the

hand; but there is no such action of the hand in rhetoric

which works and takes effect only through the medium of

discourse. And therefore I am justified in saying that rhetoric

treats of discourse.

_Soc._ I am not sure whether I entirely understand you, but

I dare say I shall soon know better; please to answer me a

question:—you would allow that there are arts?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ As to the arts generally, they are for the most part

concerned with doing, and require little or no speaking; in

painting, and statuary, and many other arts, the work may

proceed in silence; and of such arts I suppose you would

say that they do not come within the province of rhetoric.

_Gor._ You perfectly conceive my meaning, Socrates.

[Sidenote: You mean to say that rhetoric belongs to that class of arts

which is chiefly concerned with words.]

[Sidenote: _Rhetoric and arithmetic._]

_Soc._ But there are other arts which work wholly through

the medium of language, and require either no action or very

little, as, for example, the arts of arithmetic, of calculation, of

geometry, and of playing draughts; in some of these speech

is pretty nearly coextensive with action, but in most of them

the verbal element is greater—they depend wholly on words

for their efficacy and power: and I take your meaning to

be that rhetoric is an art of this latter sort?

_Gor._ Exactly.

[Sidenote: And yet you would not call arithmetic rhetoric.]

_Soc._ And yet I do not believe that you really mean to call

any of these arts rhetoric; although the precise expression

which you used was, that rhetoric is an art which works and

takes effect only through the medium of discourse; and an

adversary who wished to be captious might say, ‘And so,

Gorgias, you call arithmetic rhetoric.’ But I do not think

that you really call arithmetic rhetoric any more than geometry

would be so called by you. 451

_Gor._ You are quite right, Socrates, in your apprehension of

my meaning.

[Sidenote: Illustrations.]

_Soc._ Well, then, let me now have the rest of my answer:—seeing

that rhetoric is one of those arts which works mainly

by the use of words, and there are other arts which also use

words, tell me what is that quality in words with which rhetoric

is concerned:—Suppose that a person asks me about

some of the arts which I was mentioning just now; he might

say, ‘Socrates, what is arithmetic?’ and I should reply to

him, as you replied to me, that arithmetic is one of those arts

which take effect through words. And then he would proceed

to ask: ‘Words about what?’ and I should reply,

Words about odd and even numbers, and how many there are

of each. And if he asked again: ‘What is the art of calculation?’

I should say, That also is one of the arts which is

concerned wholly with words. And if he further said, ‘Concerned

with what?’ I should say, like the clerks in the

assembly, ‘as aforesaid’ of arithmetic, but with a difference,

the difference being that the art of calculation considers not

only the quantities of odd and even numbers, but also their

numerical relations to themselves and to one another. And

suppose, again, I were to say that astronomy is only words—he

would ask, ‘Words about what, Socrates?’ and I should

answer, that astronomy tells us about the motions of the

stars and sun and moon, and their relative swiftness.

_Gor._ You would be quite right, Socrates.

[Sidenote: _The old drinking song._]

_Soc._ And now let us have from you, Gorgias, the truth

about rhetoric: which you would admit (would you not?) to

be one of those arts which act always and fulfil all their

ends through the medium of words?

[Sidenote: Rhetoric has to do with words: about the greatest and best of

human things.]

_Gor._ True.

_Soc._ Words which do what? I should ask. To what

class of things do the words which rhetoric uses relate?

_Gor._ To the greatest, Socrates, and the best of human

things.

_Soc._ That again, Gorgias, is ambiguous; I am still in the

dark: for which are the greatest and best of human things?

I dare say that you have heard men singing at feasts the old

drinking song, in which the singers enumerate the goods of

life, first health, beauty next, thirdly, as the writer of the

song says, wealth honestly obtained.

_Gor._ Yes, I know the song; but what is your drift? 452

[Sidenote: But which are they?]

[Sidenote: _Gorgias is brought to the point._]

_Soc._ I mean to say, that the producers of those things

which the author of the song praises, that is to say, the

physician, the trainer, the money-maker, will at once come

to you, and first the physician will say: ‘O Socrates,

Gorgias is deceiving you, for my art is concerned with the

greatest good of men and not his.’ And when I ask, Who

are you? he will reply, ‘I am a physician.’ What do you

mean? I shall say. Do you mean that your art produces

the greatest good? ‘Certainly,’ he will answer, ‘for is not

health the greatest good? What greater good can men

have, Socrates?’ And after him the trainer will come and

say, ‘I too, Socrates, shall be greatly surprised if Gorgias

can show more good of his art than I can show of mine.’

To him again I shall say, Who are you, honest friend, and

what is your business? ‘I am a trainer,’ he will reply, ‘and

my business is to make men beautiful and strong in body.’

When I have done with the trainer, there arrives the

money-maker, and he, as I expect, will utterly despise them

all. ‘Consider, Socrates,’ he will say, ‘whether Gorgias or

any one else can produce any greater good than wealth.’

Well, you and I say to him, and are you a creator of

wealth? ‘Yes,’ he replies. And who are you? ‘A money-maker.’

And do you consider wealth to be the greatest

good of man? ‘Of course,’ will be his reply. And we

shall rejoin: Yes; but our friend Gorgias contends that his

art produces a greater good than yours. And then he will

be sure to go on and ask, ‘What good? Let Gorgias

answer.’ Now I want you, Gorgias, to imagine that this

question is asked of you by them and by me; What is that

which, as you say, is the greatest good of man, and of which

you are the creator? Answer us.

[Sidenote: Freedom and power, and the word which gives them.]

_Gor._ That good, Socrates, which is truly the greatest,

being that which gives to men freedom in their own persons,

and to individuals the power of ruling over others in their

several states.

_Soc._ And what would you consider this to be?

_Gor._ What is there greater than the word which persuades

the judges in the courts, or the senators in the

council, or the citizens in the assembly, or at any other

political meeting?—if you have the power of uttering this

word, you will have the physician your slave, and the trainer

your slave, and the money-maker of whom you talk will be

found to gather treasures, not for himself, but for you who

are able to speak and to persuade the multitude.

_Soc._ Now I think, Gorgias, that you have very accurately

explained what you conceive to be the art of rhetoric; and

you mean to say, if I am not mistaken, that rhetoric is the 453

artificer of persuasion, having this and no other business,

and that this is her crown and end. Do you know any

other effect of rhetoric over and above that of producing

persuasion?

[Sidenote: Rhetoric is the art of persuading, says Gorgias.]

_Gor._ No: the definition seems to me very fair, Socrates;

for persuasion is the chief end of rhetoric.

_Soc._ Then hear me, Gorgias, for I am quite sure that if

there ever was a man who entered on the discussion of a

matter from a pure love of knowing the truth, I am such

a one, and I should say the same of you.

_Gor._ What is coming, Socrates?

[Sidenote: _Socrates insists on taking ‘one step at a time.’_]

_Soc._ I will tell you: I am very well aware that I do not

know what, according to you, is the exact nature, or what

are the topics of that persuasion of which you speak, and

which is given by rhetoric; although I have a suspicion

about both the one and the other. And I am going to ask—what

is this power of persuasion which is given by rhetoric,

and about what? But why, if I have a suspicion, do I ask

instead of telling you? Not for your sake, but in order that

the argument may proceed in such a manner as is most

likely to set forth the truth. And I would have you observe,

that I am right in asking this further question: If I asked,

‘What sort of a painter is Zeuxis?’ and you said, ‘The

painter of figures,’ should I not be right in asking, ‘What

kind of figures, and where do you find them?’

_Gor._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And the reason for asking this second question

would be, that there are other painters besides, who paint

many other figures?

_Gor._ True.

_Soc._ But if there had been no one but Zeuxis who painted

them, then you would have answered very well?

_Gor._ Quite so.

[Sidenote: But so is arithmetic, so is painting.]

_Soc._ Now I want to know about rhetoric in the same way;—is

rhetoric the only art which brings persuasion, or do

other arts have the same effect? I mean to say—Does he

who teaches anything persuade men of that which he teaches

or not?

_Gor._ He persuades, Socrates,—there can be no mistake

about that.

_Soc._ Again, if we take the arts of which we were just now

speaking:—do not arithmetic and the arithmeticians teach us

the properties of number?

_Gor._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And therefore persuade us of them?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then arithmetic as well as rhetoric is an artificer of

persuasion?

_Gor._ Clearly.

_Soc._ And if any one asks us what sort of persuasion, and

about what,—we shall answer, persuasion which teaches the

quantity of odd and even; and we shall be able to show that

all the other arts of which we were just now speaking are 454

artificers of persuasion, and of what sort, and about what.

_Gor._ Very true.

_Soc._ Then rhetoric is not the only artificer of persuasion?

_Gor._ True.

[Sidenote: _Knowledge and belief._]

[Sidenote: Of what persuasion is rhetoric the artificer?]

_Soc._ Seeing, then, that not only rhetoric works by persuasion,

but that other arts do the same, as in the case of

the painter, a question has arisen which is a very fair one:

Of what persuasion is rhetoric the artificer, and about what?—is

not that a fair way of putting the question?

_Gor._ I think so.

_Soc._ Then, if you approve the question, Gorgias, what is

the answer?

[Sidenote: Of persuasion in the courts and assemblies about the just and

unjust.]

_Gor._ I answer, Socrates, that rhetoric is the art of persuasion

in courts of law and other assemblies, as I was just

now saying, and about the just and unjust.

_Soc._ And that, Gorgias, was what I was suspecting to be

your notion; yet I would not have you wonder if by-and-by

I am found repeating a seemingly plain question; for I ask

not in order to confute you, but as I was saying that the

argument may proceed consecutively, and that we may not

get the habit of anticipating and suspecting the meaning of

one another’s words; I would have you develope your own

views in your own way, whatever may be your hypothesis.

_Gor._ I think that you are quite right, Socrates.

_Soc._ Then let me raise another question; there is such

a thing as ‘having learned’?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ And there is also ‘having believed’?

_Gor._ Yes.

[Sidenote: Knowledge and belief are not the same things; for there may be

a false belief, but not a false knowledge.]

_Soc._ And is the ‘having learned’ the same as ‘having

believed,’ and are learning and belief the same things?

_Gor._ In my judgment, Socrates, they are not the same.

_Soc._ And your judgment is right, as you may ascertain in

this way:—If a person were to say to you, ‘Is there,

Gorgias, a false belief as well as a true?’—you would reply,

if I am not mistaken, that there is.

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ Well, but is there a false knowledge as well as a

true?

_Gor._ No.

_Soc._ No, indeed; and this again proves that knowledge

and belief differ.

_Gor._ Very true.

_Soc._ And yet those who have learned as well as those

who have believed are persuaded?

[Sidenote: _What do we really mean concerning rhetoric?_]

_Gor._ Just so.

_Soc._ Shall we then assume two sorts of persuasion,—one

which is the source of belief without knowledge, as the other

is of knowledge?

_Gor._ By all means.

_Soc._ And which sort of persuasion does rhetoric create in

courts of law and other assemblies about the just and unjust,

the sort of persuasion which gives belief without knowledge,

or that which gives knowledge?

_Gor._ Clearly, Socrates, that which only gives belief. 455

[Sidenote: And rhetoric is only the creator of a belief, but gives no

instruction.]

_Soc._ Then rhetoric, as would appear, is the artificer of a

persuasion which creates belief about the just and unjust,

but gives no instruction about them?

_Gor._ True.

_Soc._ And the rhetorician does not instruct the courts of

law or other assemblies about things just and unjust, but he

creates belief about them; for no one can be supposed to

instruct such a vast multitude about such high matters in a

short time?

_Gor._ Certainly not.

[Sidenote: Neither is the rhetorician taken into counsel when anything

has to be done.]

_Soc._ Come, then, and let us see what we really mean about

rhetoric; for I do not know what my own meaning is as yet.

When the assembly meets to elect a physician or a shipwright

or any other craftsman, will the rhetorician be taken

into counsel? Surely not. For at every election he ought

to be chosen who is most skilled; and, again, when walls

have to be built or harbours or docks to be constructed, not

the rhetorician but the master workman will advise; or when

generals have to be chosen and an order of battle arranged,

or a position taken, then the military will advise and not the

rhetoricians: what do you say, Gorgias? Since you profess

to be a rhetorician and a maker of rhetoricians, I cannot do

better than learn the nature of your art from you. And here

let me assure you that I have your interest in view as well

as my own. For likely enough some one or other of the

young men present might desire to become your pupil, and in

fact I see some, and a good many too, who have this wish,

but they would be too modest to question you. And therefore

when you are interrogated by me, I would have you

imagine that you are interrogated by them. ‘What is the

use of coming to you, Gorgias?’ they will say—‘about what

will you teach us to advise the state?—about the just and

unjust only, or about those other things also which Socrates

has just mentioned?’ How will you answer them?

[Sidenote: _Gorgias and his brother Herodicus._]

[Sidenote: But, says Gorgias, he will persuade people to do it.]

_Gor._ I like your way of leading us on, Socrates, and I will

endeavour to reveal to you the whole nature of rhetoric.

You must have heard, I think, that the docks and the walls

of the Athenians and the plan of the harbour were devised

in accordance with the counsels, partly of Themistocles, and

partly of Pericles, and not at the suggestion of the builders.

_Soc._ Such is the tradition, Gorgias, about Themistocles;

and I myself heard the speech of Pericles when he advised

us about the middle wall.

_Gor._ And you will observe, Socrates, that when a decision 456

has to be given in such matters the rhetoricians are the

advisers; they are the men who win their point.

_Soc._ I had that in my admiring mind, Gorgias, when I

asked what is the nature of rhetoric, which always appears

to me, when I look at the matter in this way, to be a marvel

of greatness.

[Sidenote: The rhetorician more than a match for a man of any other

profession.]

[Sidenote: _The apology of Gorgias._]

[Sidenote: His pupils may make a bad use of his instructions, but he is

not to be blamed for this.]

_Gor._ A marvel, indeed, Socrates, if you only knew how

rhetoric comprehends and holds under her sway all the

inferior arts. Let me offer you a striking example of this.

On several occasions I have been with my brother Herodicus

or some other physician to see one of his patients, who

would not allow the physician to give him medicine, or

apply the knife or hot iron to him; and I have persuaded

him to do for me what he would not do for the physician

just by the use of rhetoric. And I say that if a rhetorician

and a physician were to go to any city, and had there to

argue in the Ecclesia or any other assembly as to which of

them should be elected state-physician, the physician would

have no chance; but he who could speak would be chosen if

he wished; and in a contest with a man of any other profession

the rhetorician more than any one would have the

power of getting himself chosen, for he can speak more

persuasively to the multitude than any of them, and on

any subject. Such is the nature and power of the art

of rhetoric! And yet, Socrates, rhetoric should be used

like any other competitive art, not against everybody,—the

rhetorician ought not to abuse his strength any more than

a pugilist or pancratiast or other master of fence;—because

he has powers which are more than a match either for

friend or enemy, he ought not therefore to strike, stab, or

slay his friends. Suppose a man to have been trained in

the palestra and to be a skilful boxer,—he in the fulness of

his strength goes and strikes his father or mother or one of

his familiars or friends; but that is no reason why the trainers

or fencing-masters should be held in detestation or banished

from the city;—surely not. For they taught their art for a

good purpose, to be used against enemies and evil-doers, in

self-defence not in aggression, and others have perverted

their instructions, and turned to a bad use their own strength 457

and skill. But not on this account are the teachers bad,

neither is the art in fault, or bad in itself; I should rather

say that those who make a bad use of the art are to blame.

And the same argument holds good of rhetoric; for the

rhetorician can speak against all men and upon any subject,—in

short, he can persuade the multitude better than

any other man of anything which he pleases, but he should

not therefore seek to defraud the physician or any other

artist of his reputation merely because he has the power; he

ought to use rhetoric fairly, as he would also use his athletic

powers. And if after having become a rhetorician he makes

a bad use of his strength and skill, his instructor surely

ought not on that account to be held in detestation or

banished. For he was intended by his teacher to make

a good use of his instructions, but he abuses them. And

therefore he is the person who ought to be held in detestation,

banished, and put to death, and not his instructor.

[Sidenote: If Gorgias, like Socrates, is one of those who rejoice in

being refuted, he would like to cross-examine him; if not, not.]

[Sidenote: _The inconsistency of Gorgias._]

_Soc._ You, Gorgias, like myself, have had great experience

of disputations, and you must have observed, I think, that

they do not always terminate in mutual edification, or in the

definition by either party of the subjects which they are

discussing; but disagreements are apt to arise—somebody

says that another has not spoken truly or clearly; and then

they get into a passion and begin to quarrel, both parties

conceiving that their opponents are arguing from personal

feeling only and jealousy of themselves, not from any

interest in the question at issue. And sometimes they will

go on abusing one another until the company at last are quite

vexed at themselves for ever listening to such fellows. Why

do I say this? Why, because I cannot help feeling that you

are now saying what is not quite consistent or accordant with

what you were saying at first about rhetoric. And I am

afraid to point this out to you, lest you should think that I

have some animosity against you, and that I speak, not for

the sake of discovering the truth, but from jealousy of you.

Now if you are one of my sort, I should like to cross-examine

you, but if not I will let you alone. And what is my sort? 458

you will ask. I am one of those who are very willing to be

refuted if I say anything which is not true, and very willing

to refute any one else who says what is not true, and quite as

ready to be refuted as to refute; for I hold that this is the

greater gain of the two, just as the gain is greater of being

cured of a very great evil than of curing another. For I

imagine that there is no evil which a man can endure so great

as an erroneous opinion about the matters of which we are

speaking; and if you claim to be one of my sort, let us have

the discussion out, but if you would rather have done, no

matter;—let us make an end of it.

_Gor._ I should say, Socrates, that I am quite the man whom

you indicate; but, perhaps, we ought to consider the audience,

for, before you came, I had already given a long exhibition,

and if we proceed the argument may run on to a great length.

And therefore I think that we should consider whether we

may not be detaining some part of the company when they

are wanting to do something else.

[Sidenote: Delight of the audience at the prospect of an argument.]

_Chaer._ You hear the audience cheering, Gorgias and

Socrates, which shows their desire to listen to you; and for

myself, Heaven forbid that I should have any business on

hand which would take me away from a discussion so

interesting and so ably maintained.

_Cal._ By the gods, Chaerephon, although I have been present

at many discussions, I doubt whether I was ever so much

delighted before, and therefore if you go on discoursing all

day I shall be the better pleased.

_Soc._ I may truly say, Callicles, that I am willing, if

Gorgias is.

[Sidenote: _The rhetorician need only know appearance._]

_Gor._ After all this, Socrates, I should be disgraced if I

refused, especially as I have promised to answer all comers;

in accordance with the wishes of the company, then, do you

begin, and ask of me any question which you like.

_Soc._ Let me tell you then, Gorgias, what surprises me in

your words; though I dare say that you may be right, and I

may have misunderstood your meaning. You say that you

can make any man, who will learn of you, a rhetorician?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ Do you mean that you will teach him to gain the ears

of the multitude on any subject, and this not by instruction

but by persuasion? 459

_Gor._ Quite so.

[Sidenote: The rhetorician has greater powers of persuasion with the mob

than e. g. the physician.]

_Soc._ You were saying, in fact, that the rhetorician will

have greater powers of persuasion than the physician even

in a matter of health?

_Gor._ Yes, with the multitude,—that is.

_Soc._ You mean to say, with the ignorant; for with those

who know he cannot be supposed to have greater powers of

persuasion.

_Gor._ Very true.

[Sidenote: The more ignorant therefore will have more power than he who

knows.]

_Soc._ But if he is to have more power of persuasion than

the physician, he will have greater power than he who knows?

_Gor._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Although he is not a physician:—is he?

_Gor._ No.

_Soc._ And he who is not a physician must, obviously, be

ignorant of what the physician knows.

_Gor._ Clearly.

_Soc._ Then, when the rhetorician is more persuasive than

the physician, the ignorant is more persuasive with the

ignorant than he who has knowledge?—is not that the

inference?

_Gor._ In the case supposed:—yes.

_Soc._ And the same holds of the relation of rhetoric to all

the other arts; the rhetorician need not know the truth about

things; he has only to discover some way of persuading

the ignorant that he has more knowledge than those who

know?

[Sidenote: _The false analogy of the arts._]

_Gor._ Yes, Socrates, and is not this a great comfort?—not

to have learned the other arts, but the art of rhetoric only,

and yet to be in no way inferior to the professors of

them?

[Sidenote: And is the rhetorician as ignorant of good and evil, just and

unjust, as about special arts; or will Gorgias teach him these things

first?]

_Soc._ Whether the rhetorician is or is not inferior on this

account is a question which we will hereafter examine if the

enquiry is likely to be of any service to us; but I would

rather begin by asking, whether he is or is not as ignorant of

the just and unjust, base and honourable, good and evil, as

he is of medicine and the other arts; I mean to say, does

he really know anything of what is good and evil, base or

honourable, just or unjust in them; or has he only a way

with the ignorant of persuading them that he not knowing is

to be esteemed to know more about these things than some

one else who knows? Or must the pupil know these things

and come to you knowing them before he can acquire the art

of rhetoric? If he is ignorant, you who are the teacher of

rhetoric will not teach him—it is not your business; but

you will make him seem to the multitude to know them,

when he does not know them; and seem to be a good man,

when he is not. Or will you be unable to teach him rhetoric 460

at all, unless he knows the truth of these things first? What

is to be said about all this? By heaven, Gorgias, I wish that

you would reveal to me the power of rhetoric, as you were

saying that you would.

[Sidenote: He must be taught.]

_Gor._ Well, Socrates, I suppose that if the pupil does chance

not to know them, he will have to learn of me these things as

well.

_Soc._ Say no more, for there you are right; and so he

whom you make a rhetorician must either know the nature

of the just and unjust already, or he must be taught by

you.

_Gor._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Well, and is not he who has learned carpentering a

carpenter?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ And he who has learned music a musician?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ And he who has learned medicine is a physician, in

like manner? He who has learned anything whatever is

that which his knowledge makes him.

_Gor._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: _The inconsistency of Gorgias pointed out._]

_Soc._ And in the same way, he who has learned what is just

is just?

_Gor._ To be sure.

[Sidenote: He who has learned what is just, is admitted to be just and to

act justly. But if so, the rhetorician, having learned what is just, must

act justly, and can never therefore make an ill use of rhetoric.]

_Soc._ And he who is just may be supposed to do what is

just?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ And must not[30] the just man always desire to do what

is just?

_Gor._ That is clearly the inference.

_Soc._ Surely, then, the just man will never consent to do

injustice?

_Gor._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ And according to the argument the rhetorician must

be a just man?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ And will therefore never be willing to do injustice?

_Gor._ Clearly not.

_Soc._ But do you remember saying just now that the trainer

is not to be accused or banished if the pugilist makes a wrong

use of his pugilistic art; and in like manner, if the rhetorician

makes a bad and unjust use of his rhetoric, that is not to be

laid to the charge of his teacher, who is not to be banished,

but the wrong-doer himself who made a bad use of his rhetoric—he

is to be banished—was not that said?

_Gor._ Yes, it was.

_Soc._ But now we are affirming that the aforesaid rhetorician

will never have done injustice at all?

_Gor._ True.

_Soc._ And at the very outset, Gorgias, it was said that

rhetoric treated of discourse, not [like arithmetic] about odd

and even, but about just and unjust? Was not this said?

_Gor._ Yes.

[Sidenote: _A change in the parts._]

_Soc._ I was thinking at the time, when I heard you saying

so, that rhetoric, which is always discoursing about justice,

could not possibly be an unjust thing. But when you added,

shortly afterwards, that the rhetorician might make a bad use

of rhetoric I noted with surprise the inconsistency into which 461

you had fallen; and I said, that if you thought, as I did, that

there was a gain in being refuted, there would be an advantage

in going on with the question, but if not, I would leave off.

And in the course of our investigations, as you will see yourself,

the rhetorician has been acknowledged to be incapable

of making an unjust use of rhetoric, or of willingness to do

injustice. By the dog, Gorgias, there will be a great deal of

discussion, before we get at the truth of all this.

[Sidenote: The paradoxes of Socrates arouse the ire of Polus.]

_Polus._ And do even you, Socrates, seriously believe what

you are now saying about rhetoric? What! because Gorgias

was ashamed to deny that the rhetorician knew the just and

the honourable and the good, and admitted that to any one

who came to him ignorant of them he could teach them,

and then out of this admission there arose a contradiction—the

thing which you so dearly love, and to which not he, but

you, brought the argument by your captious questions—[do

you seriously believe that there is any truth in all this?] For

will any one ever acknowledge that he does not know, or

cannot teach, the nature of justice? The truth is, that there

is great want of manners in bringing the argument to such a

pass.

[Sidenote: Socrates is willing enough to receive his correction, if he

will only be brief.]

_Soc._ Illustrious Polus, the reason why we provide ourselves

with friends and children is, that when we get old and

stumble, a younger generation may be at hand to set us on

our legs again in our words and in our actions: and now, if I

and Gorgias are stumbling, here are you who should raise us

up; and I for my part engage to retract any error into which

you may think that I have fallen—upon one condition:

_Pol._ What condition?

_Soc._ That you contract, Polus, the prolixity of speech in

which you indulged at first.

[Sidenote: ‘Am I to be deprived of speech in a free state?’]

_Pol._ What! do you mean that I may not use as many

words as I please?

[Sidenote: ‘Am I to be compelled to listen?’]

[Sidenote: _Socrates asks instead of answering._]

_Soc._ Only to think, my friend, that having come on a visit

to Athens, which is the most free-spoken state in Hellas, you

when you got there, and you alone, should be deprived of the

power of speech—that would be hard indeed. But then consider

my case:—shall not I be very hardly used, if, when you

are making a long oration, and refusing to answer what you

are asked, I am compelled to stay and listen to you, and may 462

not go away? I say rather, if you have a real interest in the

argument, or, to repeat my former expression, have any

desire to set it on its legs, take back any statement which you

please; and in your turn ask and answer, like myself and

Gorgias—refute and be refuted: for I suppose that you would

claim to know what Gorgias knows—would you not?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And you, like him, invite any one to ask you about

anything which he pleases, and you will know how to answer

him?

_Pol._ To be sure.

_Soc._ And now, which will you do, ask or answer?

_Pol._ I will ask; and do you answer me, Socrates, the same

question which Gorgias, as you suppose, is unable to answer:

What is rhetoric?

_Soc._ Do you mean what sort of an art?

_Pol._ Yes.

[Sidenote: Socrates in his answer contrives to give Polus a lesson.]

_Soc._ To say the truth, Polus, it is not an art at all, in my

opinion.

_Pol._ Then what, in your opinion, is rhetoric?

_Soc._ A thing which, as I was lately reading in a book of

yours, you say created art.

_Pol._ What thing?

_Soc._ I should say a sort of experience.

_Pol._ Does rhetoric seem to you to be an experience?

_Soc._ That is my view, but you may be of another mind.

_Pol._ An experience in what?

_Soc._ An experience in producing a sort of delight and

gratification.

_Pol._ And if able to gratify others, must not rhetoric be

a fine thing?

_Soc._ What are you saying, Polus? Why do you ask me

whether rhetoric is a fine thing or not, when I have not as

yet told you what rhetoric is?

_Pol._ Did I not hear you say that rhetoric was a sort of

experience?

_Soc._ Will you, who are so desirous to gratify others, afford

a slight gratification to me?

_Pol._ I will.

_Soc._ Will you ask me, what sort of an art is cookery?

_Pol._ What sort of an art is cookery?

[Sidenote: _Once more, ‘What is rhetoric?’_]

_Soc._ Not an art at all, Polus.

_Pol._ What then?

_Soc._ I should say an experience.

_Pol._ In what? I wish that you would explain to me.

[Sidenote: He puts rhetoric and cookery in the same class; and that class

is flattery.]

_Soc._ An experience in producing a sort of delight and

gratification, Polus.

_Pol._ Then are cookery and rhetoric the same?

_Soc._ No, they are only different parts of the same profession.

_Pol._ Of what profession?

_Soc._ I am afraid that the truth may seem discourteous;

and I hesitate to answer, lest Gorgias should imagine that

I am making fun of his own profession. For whether or

no this is that art of rhetoric which Gorgias practises I 463

really cannot tell:—from what he was just now saying,

nothing appeared of what he thought of his art, but the

rhetoric which I mean is a part of a not very creditable

whole.

_Gor._ A part of what, Socrates? Say what you mean, and

never mind me.

_Soc._ In my opinion then, Gorgias, the whole of which

rhetoric is a part is not an art at all, but the habit of a

bold and ready wit, which knows how to manage mankind:

this habit I sum up under the word ‘flattery’; and it appears

to me to have many other parts, one of which is cookery,

which may seem to be an art, but, as I maintain, is only an

experience or routine and not an art:—another part is

rhetoric, and the art of attiring and sophistry are two

others: thus there are four branches, and four different

things answering to them. And Polus may ask, if he likes,

for he has not as yet been informed, what part of flattery

is rhetoric: he did not see that I had not yet answered him

when he proceeded to ask a further question: Whether I

do not think rhetoric a fine thing? But I shall not tell him

whether rhetoric is a fine thing or not, until I have first

answered, ‘What is rhetoric?’ For that would not be

right, Polus; but I shall be happy to answer, if you will

ask me, What part of flattery is rhetoric?

_Pol._ I will ask, and do you answer? What part of flattery

is rhetoric?

[Sidenote: _Shams and flatteries._]

[Sidenote: Rhetoric is the shadow of a part of politics.]

_Soc._ Will you understand my answer? Rhetoric, according

to my view, is the ghost or counterfeit of a part of

politics.

_Pol._ And noble or ignoble?

_Soc._ Ignoble, I should say, if I am compelled to answer,

for I call what is bad ignoble:—though I doubt whether

you understand what I was saying before.

_Gor._ Indeed, Socrates, I cannot say that I understand

myself.

_Soc._ I do not wonder, Gorgias; for I have not as yet

explained myself, and our friend Polus, colt by name and

colt by nature, is apt to run away[31].

[Sidenote: ‘But what in the world does this mean?’]

_Gor._ Never mind him, but explain to me what you mean

by saying that rhetoric is the counterfeit of a part of politics.

_Soc._ I will try, then, to explain my notion of rhetoric, and

if I am mistaken, my friend Polus shall refute me. We may 464

assume the existence of bodies and of souls?

_Gor._ Of course.

[Sidenote: Returning to first principles, Socrates assumes the existence

of souls and bodies which may or may not be in a good condition, real or

apparent.]

_Soc._ You would further admit that there is a good condition

of either of them?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ Which condition may not be really good, but good

only in appearance? I mean to say, that there are many

persons who appear to be in good health, and whom only

a physician or trainer will discern at first sight not to be in

good health.

_Gor._ True.

_Soc._ And this applies not only to the body, but also to the

soul: in either there may be that which gives the appearance

of health and not the reality?

_Gor._ Yes, certainly.

[Sidenote: To the soul corresponds the art of politics which has two

parts, legislation and justice, and to the body corresponds another

nameless art of training which has two parts, medicine and gymnastic; and

these four have four shams corresponding to them.]

[Sidenote: _Rhetoric and Sophistic._]

_Soc._ And now I will endeavour to explain to you more

clearly what I mean: The soul and body being two, have

two arts corresponding to them: there is the art of politics

attending on the soul; and another art attending on the

body, of which I know no single name, but which may be

described as having two divisions, one of them gymnastic,

and the other medicine. And in politics there is a legislative

part, which answers to gymnastic, as justice does to medicine;

and the two parts run into one another, justice having to do

with the same subject as legislation, and medicine with the

same subject as gymnastic, but with a difference. Now,

seeing that there are these four arts, two attending on the

body and two on the soul for their highest good; flattery

knowing, or rather guessing their natures, has distributed

herself into four shams or simulations of them; she puts

on the likeness of some one or other of them, and pretends

to be that which she simulates, and having no regard for

men’s highest interests, is ever making pleasure the bait of

the unwary, and deceiving them into the belief that she is

of the highest value to them. Cookery simulates the disguise

of medicine, and pretends to know what food is the

best for the body; and if the physician and the cook had

to enter into a competition in which children were the

judges, or men who had no more sense than children, as

to which of them best understands the goodness or badness

of food, the physician would be starved to death. A flattery

I deem this to be and of an ignoble sort, Polus, for to you 465

I am now addressing myself, because it aims at pleasure

without any thought of the best. An art I do not call it, but

only an experience, because it is unable to explain or to give

a reason of the nature of its own applications. And I do not

call any irrational thing an art; but if you dispute my words,

I am prepared to argue in defence of them.

Cookery, then, I maintain to be a flattery which takes the

form of medicine; and tiring, in like manner, is a flattery

which takes the form of gymnastic, and is knavish, false,

ignoble, illiberal, working deceitfully by the help of lines, and

colours, and enamels, and garments, and making men affect

a spurious beauty to the neglect of the true beauty which is

given by gymnastic.

[Sidenote: The shams are cooking, dressing up, sophistry, rhetoric.]

[Sidenote: _Hard words pass between Polus and Socrates._]

[Sidenote: Socrates excuses himself for the length at which he has

spoken.]

I would rather not be tedious, and therefore I will only

say, after the manner of the geometricians, (for I think that

by this time you will be able to follow,)

as tiring : gymnastic :: cookery : medicine;

or rather,

as tiring : gymnastic :: sophistry : legislation;

and

as cookery : medicine :: rhetoric : justice.

And this, I say, is the natural difference between the rhetorician

and the sophist, but by reason of their near connection,

they are apt to be jumbled up together, neither do they

know what to make of themselves, nor do other men know

what to make of them. For if the body presided over itself,

and were not under the guidance of the soul, and the soul

did not discern and discriminate between cookery and

medicine, but the body was made the judge of them, and

the rule of judgment was the bodily delight which was given

by them, then the word of Anaxagoras, that word with which

you, friend Polus, are so well acquainted, would prevail far and

wide: ‘Chaos’ would come again, and cookery, health, and

medicine would mingle in an indiscriminate mass. And now

I have told you my notion of rhetoric, which is, in relation to

the soul, what cookery is to the body. I may have been

inconsistent in making a long speech, when I would not

allow you to discourse at length. But I think that I may be

excused, because you did not understand me, and could

make no use of my answer when I spoke shortly, and therefore

I had to enter into an explanation. And if I show an 466

equal inability to make use of yours, I hope that you will

speak at equal length; but if I am able to understand you,

let me have the benefit of your brevity, as is only fair: And

now you may do what you please with my answer.

_Pol._ What do you mean? do you think that rhetoric is

flattery?

_Soc._ Nay, I said a part of flattery; if at your age, Polus,

you cannot remember, what will you do by-and-by, when

you get older?

_Pol._ And are the good rhetoricians meanly regarded in

states, under the idea that they are flatterers?

_Soc._ Is that a question or the beginning of a speech?

_Pol._ I am asking a question.

_Soc._ Then my answer is, that they are not regarded at all.

[Sidenote: Polus cannot be made to understand that rhetoricians have no

real power in a state, because they do not do what they ultimately will,

but only what they think best.]

_Pol._ How not regarded? Have they not very great

power in states?

_Soc._ Not if you mean to say that power is a good to the

possessor.

[Sidenote: _Polus is greatly irritated by Socrates._]

_Pol._ And that is what I do mean to say.

_Soc._ Then, if so, I think that they have the least power of

all the citizens.

_Pol._ What! are they not like tyrants? They kill and

despoil and exile any one whom they please.

_Soc._ By the dog, Polus, I cannot make out at each deliverance

of yours, whether you are giving an opinion of your

own, or asking a question of me.

_Pol._ I am asking a question of you.

_Soc._ Yes, my friend, but you ask two questions at once.

_Pol._ How two questions?

_Soc._ Why, did you not say just now that the rhetoricians

are like tyrants, and that they kill and despoil or exile any

one whom they please?

_Pol._ I did.

_Soc._ Well then, I say to you that here are two questions

in one, and I will answer both of them. And I tell you,

Polus, that rhetoricians and tyrants have the least possible

power in states, as I was just now saying; for they do

literally nothing which they will, but only what they think

best.

_Pol._ And is not that a great power?

_Soc._ Polus has already said the reverse.

_Pol._ Said the reverse! nay, that is what I assert.

_Soc._ No, by the great—what do you call him?—not you,

for you say that great power is a good to him who has the

power.

_Pol._ I do.

_Soc._ And would you maintain that if a fool does what he

thinks best, this is a good, and would you call this great

power?

_Pol._ I should not.

[Sidenote: For a fool and a flatterer cannot know what is good.]

_Soc._ Then you must prove that the rhetorician is not a

fool, and that rhetoric is an art and not a flattery—and so 467

you will have refuted me; but if you leave me unrefuted,

why, the rhetoricians who do what they think best in states,

and the tyrants, will have nothing upon which to congratulate

themselves, if, as you say, power be indeed a good, admitting

at the same time that what is done without sense is an evil.

_Pol._ Yes; I admit that.

[Sidenote: _What men will is not what they think best._]

_Soc._ How then can the rhetoricians or the tyrants have

great power in states, unless Polus can refute Socrates, and

prove to him that they do as they will?

_Pol._ This fellow—

_Soc._ I say that they do not do as they will;—now refute

me.

_Pol._ Why, have you not already said that they do as they

think best?

_Soc._ And I say so still.

_Pol._ Then surely they do as they will?

_Soc._ I deny it.

_Pol._ But they do what they think best?

_Soc._ Aye.

_Pol._ That, Socrates, is monstrous and absurd.

_Soc._ Good words, good Polus, as I may say in your own

peculiar style; but if you have any questions to ask of

me, either prove that I am in error or give the answer

yourself.

_Pol._ Very well, I am willing to answer that I may know

what you mean.

_Soc._ Do men appear to you to will that which they do, or

to will that further end for the sake of which they do a

thing? when they take medicine, for example, at the bidding

of a physician, do they will the drinking of the medicine

which is painful, or the health for the sake of which they

drink?

_Pol._ Clearly, the health.

_Soc._ And when men go on a voyage or engage in business,

they do not will that which they are doing at the time; for

who would desire to take the risk of a voyage or the trouble

of business?—But they will, to have the wealth for the sake

of which they go on a voyage.

_Pol._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: A man cannot will unless he knows the ultimate good for the

sake of which he acts.]

_Soc._ And is not this universally true? If a man does

something for the sake of something else, he wills not that

which he does, but that for the sake of which he does it.

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And are not all things either good or evil, or intermediate

and indifferent?

_Pol._ To be sure, Socrates.

[Sidenote: _Good is the end of human action._]

_Soc._ Wisdom and health and wealth and the like you

would call goods, and their opposites evils?

_Pol._ I should.

_Soc._ And the things which are neither good nor evil, and 468

which partake sometimes of the nature of good and at other

times of evil, or of neither, are such as sitting, walking,

running, sailing; or, again, wood, stones, and the like:—these

are the things which you call neither good nor evil?

_Pol._ Exactly so.

_Soc._ Are these indifferent things done for the sake of the

good, or the good for the sake of the indifferent?

_Pol._ Clearly, the indifferent for the sake of the good.

_Soc._ When we walk we walk for the sake of the good, and

under the idea that it is better to walk, and when we stand

we stand equally for the sake of the good?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And when we kill a man we kill him or exile him or

despoil him of his goods, because, as we think, it will conduce

to our good?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Men who do any of these things do them for the sake

of the good?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And did we not admit that in doing something for the

sake of something else, we do not will those things which we

do, but that other thing for the sake of which we do them?

_Pol._ Most true.

_Soc._ Then we do not will simply to kill a man or to exile

him or to despoil him of his goods, but we will to do that

which conduces to our good, and if the act is not conducive

to our good we do not will it; for we will, as you say, that

which is our good, but that which is neither good nor evil, or

simply evil, we do not will. Why are you silent, Polus?

Am I not right?

_Pol._ You are right.

_Soc._ Hence we may infer, that if any one, whether he be

a tyrant or a rhetorician, kills another or exiles another or

deprives him of his property, under the idea that the act is

for his own interests when really not for his own interests, he

may be said to do what seems best to him?

[Sidenote: _Will is the correlative of good._]

_Pol._ Yes.

[Sidenote: No man does what he wills who does what is evil.]

_Soc._ But does he do what he wills if he does what is evil?

Why do you not answer?

_Pol._ Well, I suppose not.

_Soc._ Then if great power is a good as you allow, will such

a one have great power in a state?

_Pol._ He will not.

_Soc._ Then I was right in saying that a man may do what

seems good to him in a state, and not have great power, and

not do what he wills?

_Pol._ As though you, Socrates, would not like to have the

power of doing what seemed good to you in the state, rather

than not; you would not be jealous when you saw any one

killing or despoiling or imprisoning whom he pleased,

Oh, no!

_Soc._ Justly or unjustly, do you mean? 469

_Pol._ In either case is he not equally to be envied?

_Soc._ Forbear, Polus!

_Pol._ Why ‘forbear’?

_Soc._ Because you ought not to envy wretches who are not

to be envied, but only to pity them.

_Pol._ And are those of whom I spoke wretches?

_Soc._ Yes, certainly they are.

[Sidenote: He who makes a bad use of power is not to be envied, but

pitied.]

_Pol._ And so you think that he who slays any one whom he

pleases, and justly slays him, is pitiable and wretched?

_Soc._ No, I do not say that of him: but neither do I think

that he is to be envied.

_Pol._ Were you not saying just now that he is wretched?

_Soc._ Yes, my friend, if he killed another unjustly, in which

case he is also to be pitied; and he is not to be envied if he

killed him justly.

_Pol._ At any rate you will allow that he who is unjustly put

to death is wretched, and to be pitied?

_Soc._ Not so much, Polus, as he who kills him, and not so

much as he who is justly killed.

_Pol._ How can that be, Socrates?

_Soc._ That may very well be, inasmuch as doing injustice is

the greatest of evils.

_Pol._ But is it the greatest? Is not suffering injustice a

greater evil?

[Sidenote: _A paradox._]

_Soc._ Certainly not.

_Pol._ Then would you rather suffer than do injustice?

[Sidenote: Better to suffer than to do injustice.]

_Soc._ I should not like either, but if I must choose between

them, I would rather suffer than do.

_Pol._ Then you would not wish to be a tyrant?

_Soc._ Not if you mean by tyranny what I mean.

_Pol._ I mean, as I said before, the power of doing whatever

seems good to you in a state, killing, banishing, doing in all

things as you like.

[Sidenote: A tyrant has no real power any more than a man who runs out

into the Agora carrying a dagger.]

_Soc._ Well then, illustrious friend, when I have said my

say, do you reply to me. Suppose that I go into a crowded

Agora, and take a dagger under my arm. Polus, I say to

you, I have just acquired rare power, and become a tyrant;

for if I think that any of these men whom you see ought to

be put to death, the man whom I have a mind to kill is as

good as dead; and if I am disposed to break his head or

tear his garment, he will have his head broken or his garment

torn in an instant. Such is my great power in this city.

And if you do not believe me, and I show you the dagger,

you would probably reply: Socrates, in that sort of way any

one may have great power—he may burn any house which he

pleases, and the docks and triremes of the Athenians, and all

their other vessels, whether public or private—but can you

believe that this mere doing as you think best is great

power?

_Pol._ Certainly not such doing as this.

_Soc._ But can you tell me why you disapprove of such a 470

power?

_Pol._ I can.

_Soc._ Why then?

_Pol._ Why, because he who did as you say would be certain

to be punished.

_Soc._ And punishment is an evil?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And you would admit once more, my good sir, that

great power is a benefit to a man if his actions turn out to his

advantage, and that this is the meaning of great power; and

if not, then his power is an evil and is no power. But let us

look at the matter in another way:—do we not acknowledge

that the things of which we were speaking, the infliction of

death, and exile, and the deprivation of property are sometimes

a good and sometimes not a good?

[Sidenote: _Is Archelaus happy?_]

_Pol._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: Even what we commonly call the evils of life may be goods in

disguise.]

_Soc._ About that you and I may be supposed to agree?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ Tell me, then, when do you say that they are good

and when that they are evil—what principle do you lay

down?

_Pol._ I would rather, Socrates, that you should answer as

well as ask that question.

_Soc._ Well, Polus, since you would rather have the answer

from me, I say that they are good when they are just, and

evil when they are unjust.

_Pol._ You are hard of refutation, Socrates, but might not a

child refute that statement?

_Soc._ Then I shall be very grateful to the child, and equally

grateful to you if you will refute me and deliver me from my

foolishness. And I hope that refute me you will, and not

weary of doing good to a friend.

_Pol._ Yes, Socrates, and I need not go far or appeal to

antiquity; events which happened only a few days ago are

enough to refute you, and to prove that many men who do

wrong are happy.

_Soc._ What events?

_Pol._ You see, I presume, that Archelaus the son of Perdiccas

is now the ruler of Macedonia?

_Soc._ At any rate I hear that he is.

_Pol._ And do you think that he is happy or miserable?

_Soc._ I cannot say, Polus, for I have never had any acquaintance

with him.

_Pol._ And cannot you tell at once, and without having an

acquaintance with him, whether a man is happy?

_Soc._ Most certainly not.

[Sidenote: Is the great king happy?]

_Pol._ Then clearly, Socrates, you would say that you

did not even know whether the great king was a happy

man?

_Soc._ And I should speak the truth; for I do not know how

he stands in the matter of education and justice.

_Pol._ What! and does all happiness consist in this?

[Sidenote: _Certainly not, if he is wicked._]

_Soc._ Yes, indeed, Polus, that is my doctrine; the men and

women who are gentle and good are also happy, as I maintain,

and the unjust and evil are miserable.

_Pol._ Then, according to your doctrine, the said Archelaus 471

is miserable?

_Soc._ Yes, my friend, if he is wicked.

[Sidenote: Polus attempts to prove the happiness of the unjust by the

story of Archelaus, who has lately by many crimes gained the throne of

Macedonia.]

_Pol._ That he is wicked I cannot deny; for he had no title

at all to the throne which he now occupies, he being only the

son of a woman who was the slave of Alcetas the brother of

Perdiccas; he himself therefore in strict right was the slave

of Alcetas; and if he had meant to do rightly he would have

remained his slave, and then, according to your doctrine,

he would have been happy. But now he is unspeakably

miserable, for he has been guilty of the greatest crimes: in

the first place he invited his uncle and master, Alcetas, to

come to him, under the pretence that he would restore to

him the throne which Perdiccas had usurped, and after

entertaining him and his son Alexander, who was his own

cousin, and nearly of an age with him, and making them

drunk, he threw them into a waggon and carried them off by

night, and slew them, and got both of them out of the way;

and when he had done all this wickedness he never discovered

that he was the most miserable of all men, and was

very far from repenting: shall I tell you how he showed his

remorse? he had a younger brother, a child of seven years

old, who was the legitimate son of Perdiccas, and to him

of right the kingdom belonged; Archelaus, however, had no

mind to bring him up as he ought and restore the kingdom to

him; that was not his notion of happiness; but not long

afterwards he threw him into a well and drowned him, and

declared to his mother Cleopatra that he had fallen in while

running after a goose, and had been killed. And now as he

is the greatest criminal of all the Macedonians, he may be

supposed to be the most miserable and not the happiest

of them, and I dare say that there are many Athenians, and

you would be at the head of them, who would rather be any

other Macedonian than Archelaus!

[Sidenote: Socrates sees no force in such arguments.]

[Sidenote: _Socrates alone in his opinion._]

_Soc._ I praised you at first, Polus, for being a rhetorician

rather than a reasoner. And this, as I suppose, is the sort

of argument with which you fancy that a child might refute

me, and by which I stand refuted when I say that the unjust

man is not happy. But, my good friend, where is the

refutation? I cannot admit a word which you have been

saying.

_Pol._ That is because you will not; for you surely must

think as I do.

[Sidenote: The multitude of witnesses are nothing to him.]

[Sidenote: He must convince his opponent and himself by argument.]

_Soc._ Not so, my simple friend, but because you will refute

me after the manner which rhetoricians practise in courts of

law. For there the one party think that they refute the

other when they bring forward a number of witnesses of

good repute in proof of their allegations, and their adversary

has only a single one or none at all. But this kind of proof 472

is of no value where truth is the aim; a man may often be

sworn down by a multitude of false witnesses who have a

great air of respectability. And in this argument nearly

every one, Athenian and stranger alike, would be on your

side, if you should bring witnesses in disproof of my statement;—you

may, if you will, summon Nicias the son of

Niceratus, and let his brothers, who gave the row of tripods

which stand in the precincts of Dionysus, come with him; or

you may summon Aristocrates, the son of Scellius, who is

the giver of that famous offering which is at Delphi; summon,

if you will, the whole house of Pericles, or any other great

Athenian family whom you choose;—they will all agree with

you: I only am left alone and cannot agree, for you do not

convince me; although you produce many false witnesses

against me, in the hope of depriving me of my inheritance,

which is the truth. But I consider that nothing worth speaking

of will have been effected by me unless I make you the one

witness of my words; nor by you, unless you make me the one

witness of yours; no matter about the rest of the world. For

there are two ways of refutation, one which is yours and that

of the world in general; but mine is of another sort—let us

compare them, and see in what they differ. For, indeed, we

are at issue about matters which to know is honourable

and not to know disgraceful; to know or not to know

happiness and misery—that is the chief of them. And what

knowledge can be nobler? or what ignorance more disgraceful

than this? And therefore I will begin by asking

you whether you do not think that a man who is unjust

and doing injustice can be happy, seeing that you think

Archelaus unjust, and yet happy? May I assume this to be

your opinion?

[Sidenote: _A greater paradox than the last;_]

_Pol._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: According to Polus the unjust man may be happy if he is

unpunished: Socrates maintains that he is more happy, or less unhappy, if

he meets with retribution.]

_Soc._ But I say that this is an impossibility—here is one

point about which we are at issue:—very good. And do you

mean to say also that if he meets with retribution and punishment

he will still be happy?

_Pol._ Certainly not; in that case he will be most miserable.

_Soc._ On the other hand, if the unjust be not punished, then,

according to you, he will be happy?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ But in my opinion, Polus, the unjust or doer of unjust

actions is miserable in any case,—more miserable, however, if

he be not punished and does not meet with retribution, and

less miserable if he be punished and meets with retribution at

the hands of gods and men. 473

_Pol._ You are maintaining a strange doctrine, Socrates.

_Soc._ I shall try to make you agree with me, O my friend,

for as a friend I regard you. Then these are the points at

issue between us—are they not? I was saying that to do is

worse than to suffer injustice?

_Pol._ Exactly so.

_Soc._ And you said the opposite?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ I said also that the wicked are miserable, and you refuted

me?

_Pol._ By Zeus I did.

_Soc._ In your own opinion, Polus.

_Pol._ Yes, and I rather suspect that I was in the right.

_Soc._ You further said that the wrong-doer is happy if he

be unpunished?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And I affirm that he is most miserable, and that those

who are punished are less miserable—are you going to refute

this proposition also?

_Pol._ A proposition which is harder of refutation than the

other, Socrates.

_Soc._ Say rather, Polus, impossible; for who can refute the

truth?

[Sidenote: _which Polus begins by laughing at;_]

[Sidenote: What nonsense! Do you mean that the man who expires among

tortures is happier than the successful tyrant?]

_Pol._ What do you mean? If a man is detected in an

unjust attempt to make himself a tyrant, and when detected

is racked, mutilated, has his eyes burned out, and after having

had all sorts of great injuries inflicted on him, and having

seen his wife and children suffer the like, is at last impaled

or tarred and burned alive, will he be happier than if he

escape and become a tyrant, and continue all through life

doing what he likes and holding the reins of government, the

envy and admiration both of citizens and strangers? Is that

the paradox which, as you say, cannot be refuted?

_Soc._ There again, noble Polus, you are raising hobgoblins

instead of refuting me; just now you were calling witnesses

against me. But please to refresh my memory a little; did

you say—‘in an unjust attempt to make himself a tyrant’?

_Pol._ Yes, I did.

[Sidenote: Neither is to be called happy if both are wicked.]

_Soc._ Then I say that neither of them will be happier than

the other,—neither he who unjustly acquires a tyranny, nor

he who suffers in the attempt, for of two miserables one

cannot be the happier, but that he who escapes and becomes

a tyrant is the more miserable of the two. Do you laugh,

Polus? Well, this is a new kind of refutation,—when any

one says anything, instead of refuting him to laugh at him.

[Sidenote: Why refute what nobody believes? Ask the company.]

_Pol._ But do you not think, Socrates, that you have been

sufficiently refuted, when you say that which no human being

will allow? Ask the company.

[Sidenote: Socrates never could count heads. This is his description of

one of the noblest actions of his life.]

[Sidenote: Say rather, why affirm what every body knows?]

_Soc._ O Polus, I am not a public man, and only last year,

when my tribe were serving as Prytanes, and it became my

duty as their president to take the votes, there was a laugh at

me, because I was unable to take them. And as I failed 474

then, you must not ask me to count the suffrages of the

company now; but if, as I was saying, you have no better

argument than numbers, let me have a turn, and do you

make trial of the sort of proof which, as I think, is required;

for I shall produce one witness only of the truth of my words,

and he is the person with whom I am arguing; his suffrage I

know how to take; but with the many I have nothing to do,

and do not even address myself to them. May I ask then

whether you will answer in turn and have your words put to

the proof? For I certainly think that I and you and every

man do really believe, that to do is a greater evil than to

suffer injustice: and not to be punished than to be punished.

[Sidenote: _but ends by acknowledging the truth of it._]

_Pol._ And I should say neither I, nor any man: would you

yourself, for example, suffer rather than do injustice?

_Soc._ Yes, and you, too; I or any man would.

_Pol._ Quite the reverse; neither you, nor I, nor any man.

_Soc._ But will you answer?

_Pol._ To be sure, I will; for I am curious to hear what you

can have to say.

[Sidenote: Polus, while denying that to do injustice is worse than to

suffer, acknowledges it to be more disgraceful. Hence the shipwreck of

his argument.]

_Soc._ Tell me, then, and you will know, and let us suppose

that I am beginning at the beginning: which of the two,

Polus, in your opinion, is the worst?—to do injustice or to

suffer?

_Pol._ I should say that suffering was worst.

_Soc._ And which is the greater disgrace?—Answer.

_Pol._ To do.

_Soc._ And the greater disgrace is the greater evil?

_Pol._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ I understand you to say, if I am not mistaken, that

the honourable is not the same as the good, or the disgraceful

as the evil?

_Pol._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ Let me ask a question of you: When you speak of

beautiful things, such as bodies, colours, figures, sounds,

institutions, do you not call them beautiful in reference to

some standard: bodies, for example, are beautiful in proportion

as they are useful, or as the sight of them gives pleasure

to the spectators; can you give any other account of personal

beauty?

_Pol._ I cannot.

_Soc._ And you would say of figures or colours generally

that they were beautiful, either by reason of the pleasure

which they give, or of their use, or of both?

_Pol._ Yes, I should.

_Soc._ And you would call sounds and music beautiful for

the same reason?

_Pol._ I should.

_Soc._ Laws and institutions also have no beauty in them

except in so far as they are useful or pleasant or both?

_Pol._ I think not. 475

_Soc._ And may not the same be said of the beauty of knowledge?

[Sidenote: _The standard of utility._]

_Pol._ To be sure, Socrates; and I very much approve of

your measuring beauty by the standard of pleasure and

utility.

[Sidenote: All things may be measured by the standard of pleasure and

utility or of pain and evil.]

_Soc._ And deformity or disgrace may be equally measured

by the opposite standard of pain and evil?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then when of two beautiful things one exceeds in

beauty, the measure of the excess is to be taken in one or

both of these; that is to say, in pleasure or utility or both?

_Pol._ Very true.

_Soc._ And of two deformed things, that which exceeds in

deformity or disgrace, exceeds either in pain or evil—must it

not be so?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ But then again, what was the observation which you

just now made, about doing and suffering wrong? Did you

not say, that suffering wrong was more evil, and doing wrong

more disgraceful?

_Pol._ I did.

[Sidenote: If to do is, as Polus admits, more disgraceful than to endure

wrong, it must also be more evil.]

_Soc._ Then, if doing wrong is more disgraceful than suffering,

the more disgraceful must be more painful and must

exceed in pain or in evil or both: does not that also follow?

_Pol._ Of course.

_Soc._ First, then, let us consider whether the doing of injustice

exceeds the suffering in the consequent pain: Do the

injurers suffer more than the injured?

_Pol._ No, Socrates; certainly not.

_Soc._ Then they do not exceed in pain?

_Pol._ No.

_Soc._ But if not in pain, then not in both?

_Pol._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ Then they can only exceed in the other?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ That is to say, in evil?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ Then doing injustice will have an excess of evil, and

will therefore be a greater evil than suffering injustice?

_Pol._ Clearly.

_Soc._ But have not you and the world already agreed that

to do injustice is more disgraceful than to suffer?

[Sidenote: _The two sorts of refutation._]

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And that is now discovered to be more evil?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ And would you prefer a greater evil or a greater dishonour

to a less one? Answer, Polus, and fear not; for you

will come to no harm if you nobly resign yourself into the

healing hand of the argument as to a physician without

shrinking, and either say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ to me.

_Pol._ I should say ‘No.’

_Soc._ Would any other man prefer a greater to a less evil?

_Pol._ No, not according to this way of putting the case,

Socrates.

[Sidenote: Polus is refuted out of his own mouth.]

_Soc._ Then I said truly, Polus, that neither you, nor I, nor

any man, would rather do than suffer injustice; for to do injustice

is the greater evil of the two.

_Pol._ That is the conclusion.

[Sidenote: The next question: Is it better for the guilty to suffer or

not to suffer punishment?]

_Soc._ You see, Polus, when you compare the two kinds of

refutations, how unlike they are. All men, with the exception

of myself, are of your way of thinking; but your single

assent and witness are enough for me,—I have no need of any 476

other; I take your suffrage, and am regardless of the rest.

Enough of this, and now let us proceed to the next question;

which is, Whether the greatest of evils to a guilty man

is to suffer punishment, as you supposed, or whether to

escape punishment is not a greater evil, as I supposed.

Consider:—You would say that to suffer punishment is

another name for being justly corrected when you do wrong?

_Pol._ I should.

_Soc._ And would you not allow that all just things are

honourable in so far as they are just? Please to reflect, and

tell me your opinion.

_Pol._ Yes, Socrates, I think that they are.

_Soc._ Consider again:—Where there is an agent, must

there not also be a patient?

_Pol._ I should say so.

_Soc._ And will not the patient suffer that which the agent

does, and will not the suffering have the quality of the

action? I mean, for example, that if a man strikes, there

must be something which is stricken?

_Pol._ Yes.

[Sidenote: _Correspondence of suffering and action._]

_Soc._ And if the striker strikes violently or quickly, that

which is struck will be struck violently or quickly?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ And the suffering to him who is stricken is of the

same nature as the act of him who strikes?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And if a man burns, there is something which is

burned?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And if he burns in excess or so as to cause pain, the

thing burned will be burned in the same way?

_Pol._ Truly.

_Soc._ And if he cuts, the same argument holds—there will

be something cut?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And if the cutting be great or deep or such as will

cause pain, the cut will be of the same nature?

_Pol._ That is evident.

[Sidenote: Since the affection of the patient answers to the act of the

agent, it follows that he who is punished justly suffers justly, and

therefore honourably, and is delivered from the greatest of all evils,

the evil of the soul, which, being the most disgraceful, is also the most

painful or hurtful.]

_Soc._ Then you would agree generally to the universal proposition

which I was just now asserting: that the affection of

the patient answers to the act of the agent?

_Pol._ I agree.

_Soc._ Then, as this is admitted, let me ask whether being

punished is suffering or acting?

_Pol._ Suffering, Socrates; there can be no doubt of that.

_Soc._ And suffering implies an agent?

_Pol._ Certainly, Socrates; and he is the punisher.

_Soc._ And he who punishes rightly, punishes justly?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And therefore he acts justly?

_Pol._ Justly.

_Soc._ Then he who is punished and suffers retribution,

suffers justly?

_Pol._ That is evident.

_Soc._ And that which is just has been admitted to be

honourable?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then the punisher does what is honourable, and the

punished suffers what is honourable?

_Pol._ True.

[Sidenote: _Sophistry of Socrates._]

_Soc._ And if what is honourable, then what is good, for the

honourable is either pleasant or useful? 477

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then he who is punished suffers what is good?

_Pol._ That is true.

_Soc._ Then he is benefited?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ Do I understand you to mean what I mean by the

term ‘benefited’? I mean, that if he be justly punished

his soul is improved.

_Pol._ Surely.

_Soc._ Then he who is punished is delivered from the evil

of his soul?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And is he not then delivered from the greatest evil?

Look at the matter in this way:—In respect of a man’s

estate, do you see any greater evil than poverty?

_Pol._ There is no greater evil.

_Soc._ Again, in a man’s bodily frame, you would say that

the evil is weakness and disease and deformity?

_Pol._ I should.

_Soc._ And do you not imagine that the soul likewise has

some evil of her own?

_Pol._ Of course.

_Soc._ And this you would call injustice and ignorance and

cowardice, and the like?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ So then, in mind, body, and estate, which are three,

you have pointed out three corresponding evils—injustice,

disease, poverty?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ And which of the evils is the most disgraceful?—Is

not the most disgraceful of them injustice, and in general the

evil of the soul?

_Pol._ By far the most.

_Soc._ And if the most disgraceful, then also the worst?

_Pol._ What do you mean, Socrates?

_Soc._ I mean to say, that what is most disgraceful has been

already admitted to be most painful or hurtful, or both.

_Pol._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: _Analogy of soul and body._]

_Soc._ And now injustice and all evil in the soul has been

admitted by us to be most disgraceful?

_Pol._ It has been admitted.

_Soc._ And most disgraceful either because most painful and

causing excessive pain, or most hurtful, or both?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And therefore to be unjust and intemperate, and

cowardly and ignorant, is more painful than to be poor and

sick?

[Sidenote: Polus stumbles at the notion which he has already admitted,

that the evil of the soul is more painful than that of the body.]

_Pol._ Nay, Socrates; the painfulness does not appear to

me to follow from your premises.

_Soc._ Then, if, as you would argue, not more painful, the

evil of the soul is of all evils the most disgraceful; and the

excess of disgrace must be caused by some preternatural

greatness, or extraordinary hurtfulness of the evil.

_Pol._ Clearly.

_Soc._ And that which exceeds most in hurtfulness will be

the greatest of evils?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then injustice and intemperance, and in general the

depravity of the soul, are the greatest of evils?

_Pol._ That is evident.

_Soc._ Now, what art is there which delivers us from

poverty? Does not the art of making money?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And what art frees us from disease? Does not the

art of medicine?

_Pol._ Very true.

_Soc._ And what from vice and injustice? If you are not 478

able to answer at once, ask yourself whither we go with the

sick, and to whom we take them.

_Pol._ To the physicians, Socrates.

_Soc._ And to whom do we go with the unjust and intemperate?

_Pol._ To the judges, you mean.

_Soc._ —Who are to punish them?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And do not those who rightly punish others, punish

them in accordance with a certain rule of justice?

_Pol._ Clearly.

[Sidenote: _The judge and the physician._]

_Soc._ Then the art of money-making frees a man from

poverty; medicine from disease; and justice from intemperance

and injustice?

_Pol._ That is evident.

_Soc._ Which, then, is the best of these three?

_Pol._ Will you enumerate them?

_Soc._ Money-making, medicine, and justice.

_Pol._ Justice, Socrates, far excels the two others.

_Soc._ And justice, if the best, gives the greatest pleasure or

advantage or both?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ But is the being healed a pleasant thing, and are

those who are being healed pleased?

_Pol._ I think not.

_Soc._ A useful thing, then?

_Pol._ Yes.

[Sidenote: Punishment is the deliverance from evil, and he who is

punished, like him who is healed, is happier than he who is not punished

or not healed.]

_Soc._ Yes, because the patient is delivered from a great

evil; and this is the advantage of enduring the pain—that

you get well?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And would he be the happier man in his bodily condition,

who is healed, or who never was out of health?

_Pol._ Clearly he who was never out of health.

_Soc._ Yes; for happiness surely does not consist in being

delivered from evils, but in never having had them.

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ And suppose the case of two persons who have some

evil in their bodies, and that one of them is healed and

delivered from evil, and another is not healed, but retains

the evil—which of them is the most miserable?

_Pol._ Clearly he who is not healed.

_Soc._ And was not punishment said by us to be a deliverance

from the greatest of evils, which is vice?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ And justice punishes us, and makes us more just, and

is the medicine of our vice?

_Pol._ True.

[Sidenote: Happiest of all is he who is just; happy in the second degree

he who is delivered from injustice by punishment, most deluded and most

unhappy of all he who lives on, enjoying the fruit of his crimes.]

_Soc._ He, then, has the first place in the scale of happiness

who has never had vice in his soul; for this has been shown

to be the greatest of evils.

[Sidenote: _The escape from punishment an evil._]

_Pol._ Clearly.

_Soc._ And he has the second place, who is delivered from

vice?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ That is to say, he who receives admonition and

rebuke and punishment?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then he lives worst, who, having been unjust, has no

deliverance from injustice?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ That is, he lives worst who commits the greatest 479

crimes, and who, being the most unjust of men, succeeds in

escaping rebuke or correction or punishment; and this, as

you say, has been accomplished by Archelaus and other

tyrants and rhetoricians and potentates[32]?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ May not their way of proceeding, my friend, be compared

to the conduct of a person who is afflicted with the

worst of diseases and yet contrives not to pay the penalty to

the physician for his sins against his constitution, and will

not be cured, because, like a child, he is afraid of the pain of

being burned or cut:—Is not that a parallel case?

_Pol._ Yes, truly.

_Soc._ He would seem as if he did not know the nature of

health and bodily vigour; and if we are right, Polus, in our

previous conclusions, they are in a like case who strive to

evade justice, which they see to be painful, but are blind to

the advantage which ensues from it, not knowing how far

more miserable a companion a diseased soul is than a

diseased body; a soul, I say, which is corrupt and unrighteous

and unholy. And hence they do all that they

can to avoid punishment and to avoid being released from

the greatest of evils; they provide themselves with money

and friends, and cultivate to the utmost their powers of

persuasion. But if we, Polus, are right, do you see what

follows, or shall we draw out the consequences in form?

_Pol._ If you please.

_Soc._ Is it not a fact that injustice, and the doing of injustice,

is the greatest of evils?

[Sidenote: _The case of Archelaus regarded in a new light._]

_Pol._ That is quite clear.

_Soc._ And further, that to suffer punishment is the way to

be released from this evil?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ And not to suffer, is to perpetuate the evil?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ To do wrong, then, is second only in the scale of

evils; but to do wrong and not to be punished, is first and

greatest of all?

_Pol._ That is true.

[Sidenote: Archelaus then is more miserable than his victims.]

_Soc._ Well, and was not this the point in dispute, my

friend? You deemed Archelaus happy, because he was a

very great criminal and unpunished: I, on the other hand,

maintained that he or any other who like him has done

wrong and has not been punished, is, and ought to be, the

most miserable of all men; and that the doer of injustice is

more miserable than the sufferer; and he who escapes

punishment, more miserable than he who suffers.—Was not

that what I said?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And it has been proved to be true?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Well, Polus, but if this is true, where is the great use 480

of rhetoric? If we admit what has been just now said,

every man ought in every way to guard himself against

doing wrong, for he will thereby suffer great evil?

_Pol._ True.

[Sidenote: Injustice, if not removed, will become the cancer of the soul.]

_Soc._ And if he, or any one about whom he cares, does

wrong, he ought of his own accord to go where he will be

immediately punished; he will run to the judge, as he would

to the physician, in order that the disease of injustice may

not be rendered chronic and become the incurable cancer of

the soul; must we not allow this consequence, Polus, if our

former admissions are to stand:—is any other inference

consistent with them?

_Pol._ To that, Socrates, there can be but one answer.

[Sidenote: The only use of rhetoric is that it enables a man to expose

his own injustice and to petition for speedy punishment.]

[Sidenote: _Of what use then is rhetoric?_]

_Soc._ Then rhetoric is of no use to us, Polus, in helping a

man to excuse his own injustice, or that of his parents or

friends, or children or country; but may be of use to any

one who holds that instead of excusing he ought to accuse—himself

above all, and in the next degree his family or any of

his friends who may be doing wrong; he should bring to

light the iniquity and not conceal it, that so the wrong-doer

may suffer and be made whole; and he should even force

himself and others not to shrink, but with closed eyes like

brave men to let the physician operate with knife or searing

iron, not regarding the pain, in the hope of attaining the

good and the honourable; let him who has done things

worthy of stripes, allow himself to be scourged, if of bonds,

to be bound, if of a fine, to be fined, if of exile, to be exiled,

if of death, to die, himself being the first to accuse himself

and his own relations, and using rhetoric to this end, that

his and their unjust actions may be made manifest, and that

they themselves may be delivered from injustice, which is

the greatest evil. Then, Polus, rhetoric would indeed be

useful. Do you say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ to that?

_Pol._ To me, Socrates, what you are saying appears very

strange, though probably in agreement with your premises.

_Soc._ Is not this the conclusion, if the premises are not disproven?

_Pol._ Yes; it certainly is.

[Sidenote: A slighter and secondary use of rhetoric in self-defence

against an enemy, or in preventing the punishment of an enemy.]

_Soc._ And from the opposite point of view, if indeed it be

our duty to harm another, whether an enemy or not—I

except the case of self-defence—then I have to be upon my

guard—but if my enemy injures a third person, then in 481

every sort of way, by word as well as deed, I should try to

prevent his being punished, or appearing before the judge;

and if he appears, I should contrive that he should escape,

and not suffer punishment: if he has stolen a sum of money,

let him keep what he has stolen and spend it on him and his,

regardless of religion and justice; and if he have done

things worthy of death, let him not die, but rather be immortal

in his wickedness; or, if this is not possible, let him

at any rate be allowed to live as long as he can. For such

purposes, Polus, rhetoric may be useful, but is of small if of

any use to him who is not intending to commit injustice; at

least, there was no such use discovered by us in the previous

discussion.

_Cal._ Tell me, Chaerephon, is Socrates in earnest, or is he

joking?

[Sidenote: _Is Socrates in earnest?_]

[Sidenote: Callicles asks in amazement whether Socrates really means what

he says.]

_Chaer._ I should say, Callicles, that he is in most profound

earnest; but you may as well ask him.

_Cal._ By the gods, and I will. Tell me, Socrates, are you

in earnest, or only in jest? For if you are in earnest, and

what you say is true, is not the whole of human life turned

upside down; and are we not doing, as would appear, in

everything the opposite of what we ought to be doing?

[Sidenote: I am only repeating the words of philosophy, whose lover I am.

For as you love the Athenian people and their namesake Demus, so I have

two loves, philosophy and Alcibiades.]

[Sidenote: The son of Cleinias is inconstant, but philosophy is ever the

same: she it is whom you have to refute: I am only her mouth-piece.]

_Soc._ O Callicles, if there were not some community of feelings

among mankind, however varying in different persons—I

mean to say, if every man’s feelings were peculiar to himself

and were not shared by the rest of his species—I do not

see how we could ever communicate our impressions to one

another. I make this remark because I perceive that you

and I have a common feeling. For we are lovers both, and

both of us have two loves apiece:—I am the lover of Alcibiades,

the son of Cleinias, and of philosophy; and you of

the Athenian Demus, and of Demus the son of Pyrilampes.

Now, I observe that you, with all your cleverness, do not

venture to contradict your favourite in any word or opinion

of his; but as he changes you change, backwards and forwards.

When the Athenian Demus denies anything that

you are saying in the assembly, you go over to his opinion;

and you do the same with Demus, the fair young son of

Pyrilampes. For you have not the power to resist the words

and ideas of your loves; and if a person were to express

surprise at the strangeness of what you say from time to time

when under their influence, you would probably reply to 482

him, if you were honest, that you cannot help saying what

your loves say unless they are prevented; and that you can

only be silent when they are. Now you must understand

that my words are an echo too, and therefore you need not

wonder at me; but if you want to silence me, silence philosophy,

who is my love, for she is always telling me what I

am now telling you, my friend; neither is she capricious like

my other love, for the son of Cleinias says one thing to-day

and another thing to-morrow, but philosophy is always true.

She is the teacher at whose words you are now wondering,

and you have heard her yourself. Her you must refute, and

either show, as I was saying, that to do injustice and to escape

punishment is not the worst of all evils; or, if you leave her

word unrefuted, by the dog the god of Egypt, I declare, O

Callicles, that Callicles will never be at one with himself, but

that his whole life will be a discord. And yet, my friend, I

would rather that my lyre should be inharmonious, and that

there should be no music in the chorus which I provided;

aye, or that the whole world should be at odds with me, and

oppose me, rather than that I myself should be at odds with

myself, and contradict myself.

[Sidenote: _Polus and Callicles._]

[Sidenote: Polus was vanquished because he refused to take a bold line.]

[Sidenote: Callicles would return to the rule of nature in the lower

sense of the term.]

[Sidenote: Convention was only introduced by the weak majority in order

to protect themselves against the few strong.]

[Sidenote: A man of courage would easily break down the guards of

convention.]

[Sidenote: _Convention and nature._]

[Sidenote: A little philosophy not a bad thing in youth.]

_Cal._ O Socrates, you are a regular declaimer, and seem to

be running riot in the argument. And now you are declaiming

in this way because Polus has fallen into the same

error himself of which he accused Gorgias:—for he said

that when Gorgias was asked by you, whether, if some one

came to him who wanted to learn rhetoric, and did not

know justice, he would teach him justice, Gorgias in his

modesty replied that he would, because he thought that mankind

in general would be displeased if he answered ‘No;’

and then in consequence of this admission, Gorgias was

compelled to contradict himself, that being just the sort of

thing in which you delight. Whereupon Polus laughed at

you, deservedly, as I think; but now he has himself fallen

into the same trap. I cannot say very much for his wit

when he conceded to you that to do is more dishonourable

than to suffer injustice, for this was the admission which

led to his being entangled by you; and because he was

too modest to say what he thought, he had his mouth

stopped. For the truth is, Socrates, that you, who pretend

to be engaged in the pursuit of truth, are appealing now to

the popular and vulgar notions of right, which are not natural,

but only conventional. Convention and nature are generally

at variance with one another: and hence, if a person is too

modest to say what he thinks, he is compelled to contradict 483

himself; and you, in your ingenuity perceiving the advantage

to be thereby gained, slyly ask of him who is arguing conventionally

a question which is to be determined by the rule

of nature; and if he is talking of the rule of nature, you slip

away to custom: as, for instance, you did in this very discussion

about doing and suffering injustice. When Polus

was speaking of the conventionally dishonourable, you

assailed him from the point of view of nature; for by the rule

of nature, to suffer injustice is the greater disgrace because

the greater evil; but conventionally, to do evil is the more

disgraceful. For the suffering of injustice is not the part of

a man, but of a slave, who indeed had better die than live;

since when he is wronged and trampled upon, he is unable

to help himself, or any other about whom he cares. The

reason, as I conceive, is that the makers of laws are the

majority who are weak; and they make laws and distribute

praises and censures with a view to themselves and to their

own interests; and they terrify the stronger sort of men, and

those who are able to get the better of them, in order that

they may not get the better of them; and they say, that

dishonesty is shameful and unjust; meaning, by the word

injustice, the desire of a man to have more than his neighbours;

for knowing their own inferiority, I suspect that they

are too glad of equality. And therefore the endeavour to

have more than the many, is conventionally said to be shameful

and unjust, and is called injustice[33], whereas nature herself

intimates that it is just for the better to have more than the

worse, the more powerful than the weaker; and in many

ways she shows, among men as well as among animals, and

indeed among whole cities and races, that justice consists in

the superior ruling over and having more than the inferior.

For on what principle of justice did Xerxes invade Hellas,

or his father the Scythians? (not to speak of numberless

other examples). Nay, but these are the men who act

according to nature; yes, by Heaven, and according to the

law of nature: not, perhaps, according to that artificial law,

which we invent and impose upon our fellows, of whom we

take the best and strongest from their youth upwards, and

tame them like young lions,—charming them with the sound 484

of the voice, and saying to them, that with equality they must

be content, and that the equal is the honourable and the just.

But if there were a man who had sufficient force, he would

shake off and break through, and escape from all this; he

would trample under foot all our formulas and spells and

charms, and all our laws which are against nature: the slave

would rise in rebellion and be lord over us, and the light of

natural justice would shine forth. And this I take to be the

sentiment of Pindar, when he says in his poem, that

[Sidenote: _Might is right._]

‘Law is the king of all, of mortals as well as of immortals;’

this, as he says,

[Sidenote: Pindar.]

‘Makes might to be right, doing violence with highest

hand; as I infer from the deeds of Heracles, for without

buying them—‘[34]