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Socrates: But is the being healed a pleasant
thing, and are those who are being healed
pleased?
Polus: I think not.
Socrates: A useful thing, then?
Polus: Yes.
Socrates: Yes, because the patient is delivered
from a great evil; and this is the advantage
of enduring the pain-that you get well?
Polus: Certainly.
Socrates: And would he be the happier man
in his bodily condition, who is healed, or
who never was out of health?
Polus: Clearly he who was never out of health.
Socrates: Yes; for happiness surely does
not consist in being delivered from evils,
but in never having had them.
Polus: True.
Socrates: 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?
Polus: Clearly he who is not healed.
Socrates: And was not punishment said by
us to be a deliverance from the greatest
of evils, which is vice?
Polus: True.
Socrates: And justice punishes us, and makes
us more just, and is the medicine of our
vice?
Polus: True.
Socrates: 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.
Polus: Clearly.
Socrates: And he has the second place, who
is delivered from vice?
Polus: True.
Socrates: That is to say, he who receives
admonition and rebuke and punishment?
Polus: Yes.
Socrates: Then he lives worst, who, having
been unjust, has no deliverance from injustice?
Polus: Certainly.
Socrates: That is, he lives worst who commits
the greatest 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?
Polus: True.
Socrates: 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?
Polus: Yes, truly.
Socrates: 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?
Polus: If you please.
Socrates: Is it not a fact that injustice,
and the doing of injustice, is the greatest
of evils?
Polus: That is quite clear.
Socrates: And further, that to suffer punishment
is the way to be released from this evil?
Polus: True.
Socrates: And not to suffer, is to perpetuate
the evil?
Polus: Yes.
Socrates: 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?
Polus: That is true.
Socrates: 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?
Polus: Yes.
Socrates: And it has been proved to be true?
Polus: Certainly.
Socrates: Well, Polus, but if this is true,
where is the great use 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?
Polus: True.
Socrates: 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?
Polus: To that, Socrates, there can be but
one answer.
Socrates: Then rhetoric is of no use to us,
Polus, in helping a man to excuse his own
injustice, 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 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?
Polus: To me, Socrates, what you are saying
appears very strange, though probably in
agreement with your premises.
Socrates: Is not this the conclusion, if
the premises are not disproven?
Polus: Yes; it certainly is.
Socrates: 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 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 has 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.
Callicles: Tell me, Chaerephon, is Socrates
in earnest, or is he joking?
Chaerephon: I should say, Callicles, that
he is in most profound earnest; but you may
well ask him
Callicles: 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?
Socrates: 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-I 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 is 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 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 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.
Callicles: 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 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 hot 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, 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 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
Law is the king of all, of mortals as well
as of immortals;
this, as he says,
Makes might to be right, doing violence with
highest hand; as I infer from the deeds of
Heracles, for without buying them-
-I do not remember the exact words, but the
meaning is, that without buying them, and
without their being given to him, he carried
off the oxen of Geryon, according to the
law of natural right, and that the oxen and
other possessions of the weaker and inferior
properly belong to the stronger and superior.
And this is true, as you may ascertain, if
you will leave philosophy and go on to higher
things: for philosophy, Socrates, if pursued
in moderation and at the proper age, is an
elegant accomplishment, but too much philosophy
is the ruin of human life. Even if a man
has good parts, still, if he carries philosophy
into later life, he is necessarily ignorant
of all those things which a gentleman and
a person of honour ought to know; he is inexperienced
in the laws of the State, and in the language
which ought to be used in the dealings of
man with man, whether private or public,
and utterly ignorant of the pleasures and
desires of mankind and of human character
in general. And people of this sort, when
they betake themselves to politics or business,
are as ridiculous as I imagine the politicians
to be, when they make their appearance in
the arena of philosophy. For, as Euripides
says,
Every man shines in that and pursues that,
and devotes the greatest portion of the day
to that in which he most excels,
but anything in which he is inferior, he
avoids and depreciates, and praises the opposite
partiality to himself, and because he from
that he will thus praise himself. The true
principle is to unite them. Philosophy, as
a part of education, is an excellent thing,
and there is no disgrace to a man while he
is young in pursuing such a study; but when
he is more advanced in years, the thing becomes
ridiculous, and I feel towards philosophers
as I do towards those who lisp and imitate
children. For I love to see a little child,
who is not of an age to speak plainly, lisping
at his play; there is an appearance of grace
and freedom in his utterance, which is natural
to his childish years. But when I hear some
small creature carefully articulating its
words, I am offended; the sound is disagreeable,
and has to my ears the twang of slavery.
So when I hear a man lisping, or see him
playing like a child, his behaviour appears
to me ridiculous and unmanly and worthy of
stripes. And I have the same feeling about
students of philosophy; when I see a youth
thus engaged-the study appears to me to be
in character, and becoming a man of liberal
education, and him who neglects philosophy
I regard as an inferior man, who will never
aspire to anything great or noble. But if
I see him continuing the study in later life,
and not leaving off, I should like to beat
him, Socrates; for, as I was saying, such
a one, even though he have good natural parts,
becomes effeminate. He flies from the busy
centre and the market-place, in which, as
the poet says, men become distinguished;
he creeps into a corner for the rest of his
life, and talks in a whisper with three or
four admiring you, but never speaks out like
a freeman in a satisfactory manner. Now I,
Socrates, am very well inclined towards you,
and my feeling may be compared with that
of Zethus towards Amphion, in the play of
Euripides, whom I was mentioning just now:
for I am disposed to say to you much what
Zethus said to his brother, that you, Socrates,
are careless about the things of which you
ought to be careful; and that you
Who have a soul so noble, are remarkable
for a puerile exterior;
Neither in a court of justice could you state
a case, or give any
reason or proof, offer valiant counsel on
another's behalf.
And you must not be offended, my dear Socrates,
for I am speaking out of good-will towards
you, if I ask whether you are not ashamed
of being thus defenceless; which I affirm
to be the condition not of you only but of
all those who will carry the study of philosophy
too far. For suppose that some one were to
take you, or any one of your sort, off to
prison, declaring that you had done wrong
when you had done no wrong, you must allow
that you would not know what to do:-there
you would stand giddy and gaping, and not
having a word to say; and when you went up
before the Court, even if the accuser were
a poor creature and not good for much, you
would die if he were disposed to claim the
penalty of death. And yet, Socrates, what
is the value of
An art which converts a man of sense into
a fool,
who is helpless, and has no power to save
either himself or others, when he is in the
greatest danger and is going to be despoiled
by his enemies of all his goods, and has
to live, simply deprived of his rights of
citizenship?-he being a man who, if I may
use the expression, may be boxed on the ears
with impunity. Then, my good friend, take
my advice, and refute no more:
Learn the philosophy of business, and acquire
the reputation
of wisdom.
But leave to others these niceties,
whether they are to be described as follies
or absurdities:
For they will only
Give you poverty for the inmate of your dwelling.
Cease, then, emulating these paltry splitters
of words, and emulate only the man of substance
and honour, who is well to do.
Socrates: If my soul, Callicles, were made
of gold, should I not rejoice to discover
one of those stones with which they test
gold, and the very best possible one to which
I might bring my soul; and if the stone and
I agreed in approving of her training, then
I should know that I was in a satisfactory
state, and that no other test was needed
by me.
Callicles: What is your meaning, Socrates?
Socrates: I will tell you; I think that I
have found in you the desired touchstone.
Callicles: Why?
Socrates: Because I am sure that if you agree
with me in any of the opinions which my soul
forms, I have at last found the truth indeed.
For I consider that if a man is to make a
complete trial of the good or evil of the
soul, he ought to have three qualities-knowledge,
good-will, outspokenness, which are all possessed
by you. Many whom I meet are unable to make
trial of me, because they are not wise as
you are; others are wise, but they will not
tell me the truth, because they have not
the same interest in me which you have; and
these two strangers, Gorgias and Polus, are
undoubtedly wise men and my very good friends,
but they are not outspoken enough, and they
are too modest. Why, their modesty is so
great that they are driven to contradict
themselves, first one and then the other
of them, in the face of a large company,
on matters of the highest moment. But you
have all the qualities in which these others
are deficient, having received an excellent
education; to this many Athenians can testify.
And are my friend. Shall I tell you why I
think so? I know that you, Callicles, and
Tisander of Aphidnae, and Andron the son
of Androtion, and Nausicydes of the deme
of Cholarges, studied together: there were
four of you, and I once heard you advising
with one another as to the extent to which
the pursuit of philosophy should be carried,
and, as I know, you came to the conclusion
that the study should not be pushed too much
into detail. You were cautioning one another
not to be overwise; you were afraid that
too much wisdom might unconsciously to yourselves
be the ruin of you. And now when I hear you
giving the same advice to me which you then
gave to your most intimate friends, I have
a sufficient evidence of your real goodwill
to me. And of the frankness of your nature
and freedom from modesty I am assured by
yourself, and the assurance is confirmed
by your last speech. Well then, the inference
in the present case clearly is, that if you
agree with me in an argument about any point,
that point will have been sufficiently tested
by us, and will not require to be submitted
to any further test. For you could not have
agreed with me, either from lack of knowledge
or from superfluity of modesty, nor yet from
a desire to deceive me, for you are my friend,
as you tell me yourself. And therefore when
you and I are agreed, the result will be
the attainment of perfect truth. Now there
is no nobler enquiry, Callicles, than that
which you censure me for making,-What ought
the character of a man to be, and what his
pursuits, and how far is he to go, both in
maturer years and in youth? For be assured
that if I err in my own conduct I do not
err intentionally, but from ignorance. Do
not then desist from advising me, now that
you have begun, until I have learned clearly
what this is which I am to practise, and
how I may acquire it. And if you find me
assenting to your words, and hereafter not
doing that to which I assented, call me "dolt,"
and deem me unworthy of receiving further
instruction. Once more, then, tell me what
you and Pindar mean by natural justice: Do
you not mean that the superior should take
the property of the inferior by force; that
the better should rule the worse, the noble
have more than the mean? Am I not right in
my recollection?
Callicles: Yes; that is what I was saying,
and so I still aver.
Socrates: And do you mean by the better the
same as the superior? for I could not make
out what you were saying at the time-whether
you meant by the superior the stronger, and
that the weaker must obey the stronger, as
you seemed to imply when you said that great
cities attack small ones in accordance with-natural
right, because they are superior and stronger,
as though the superior and stronger and better
were the same; or whether the better may
be also the inferior and weaker, and the
superior the worse, or whether better is
to be defined in the same way as superior:
this is the point which I want to have cleared
up. Are the superior and better and stronger
the same or different?
Callicles: I say unequivocally that they
are the same.
Socrates: Then the many are by nature to
the one, against whom, as you were saying,
they make the laws?
Callicles: Certainly.
Socrates: Then the laws of the many are the
laws of the superior?
Callicles: Very true.
Socrates: Then they are the laws of the better;
for the superior class are far better, as
you were saying?
Callicles: Yes.
Socrates: And since they are superior, the
laws which are made by them are by nature
good?
Callicles: Yes.
Socrates: And are not the many of opinion,
as you were lately saying, that justice is
equality, and that to do is more disgraceful
than to suffer injustice?-is that so or not?
Answer, Callicles, and let no modesty be:
found to come in the way; do the many think,
or do they not think thus?-I must beg of
you to answer, in order that if you agree
with me I may fortify myself by the assent
of so competent an authority.
Callicles: Yes; the opinion of the many is
what you say.
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