Chapter XVIII: Part 18

_Cal._ I entirely agree.

_Soc._ Go back now to our former admissions.—Did you say
that to hunger, I mean the mere state of hunger, was pleasant
or painful?

_Cal._ I said painful, but that to eat when you are hungry is
pleasant.

_Soc._ I know; but still the actual hunger is painful: am I
not right?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And thirst, too, is painful?

_Cal._ Yes, very.

_Soc._ Need I adduce any more instances, or would you
agree that all wants or desires are painful?

_Cal._ I agree, and therefore you need not adduce any more
instances.

_Soc._ Very good. And you would admit that to drink, when
you are thirsty, is pleasant?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And in the sentence which you have just uttered, the
word ‘thirsty’ implies pain?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And the word ‘drinking’ is expressive of pleasure,
and of the satisfaction of the want?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ There is pleasure in drinking?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Soc._ When you are thirsty?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And in pain?

_Cal._ Yes.

[Sidenote: But he may have pleasure and pain at the same time.]

_Soc._ Do you see the inference:—that pleasure and pain are
simultaneous, when you say that being thirsty, you drink?
For are they not simultaneous, and do they not affect at the
same time the same part, whether of the soul or the body?—which
of them is affected cannot be supposed to be of any
consequence: Is not this true?

_Cal._ It is.

_Soc._ You said also, that no man could have good and evil
fortune at the same time?

_Cal._ Yes, I did.

[Sidenote: _The dialectical process_]

_Soc._ But you admitted, that when in pain a man might also 497
have pleasure?

_Cal._ Clearly.

[Sidenote: Therefore pleasure and pain are not the same as good and evil.]

_Soc._ Then pleasure is not the same as good fortune, or
pain the same as evil fortune, and therefore the good is not
the same as the pleasant?

_Cal._ I wish I knew, Socrates, what your quibbling means.

_Soc._ You know, Callicles, but you affect not to know.

_Cal._ Well, get on, and don’t keep fooling: then you will
know what a wiseacre you are in your admonition of me.

_Soc._ Does not a man cease from his thirst and from his
pleasure in drinking at the same time?

_Cal._ I do not understand what you are saying.

_Gor._ Nay, Callicles, answer, if only for our sakes;—we
should like to hear the argument out.

_Cal._ Yes, Gorgias, but I must complain of the habitual
trifling of Socrates; he is always arguing about little and
unworthy questions.

_Gor._ What matter? Your reputation, Callicles, is not at
stake. Let Socrates argue in his own fashion.

_Cal._ Well, then, Socrates, you shall ask these little peddling
questions, since Gorgias wishes to have them.

_Soc._ I envy you, Callicles, for having been initiated into
the great mysteries before you were initiated into the lesser.
I thought that this was not allowable. But to return to our
argument:—Does not a man cease from thirsting and from
the pleasure of drinking at the same moment?

_Cal._ True.

_Soc._ And if he is hungry, or has any other desire, does he
not cease from the desire and the pleasure at the same
moment?

_Cal._ Very true.

_Soc._ Then he ceases from pain and pleasure at the same
moment?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ But he does not cease from good and evil at the same
moment, as you have admitted:—do you still adhere to what
you said?

_Cal._ Yes, I do; but what is the inference?

[Sidenote: _to the man of the world is foolishness._]

[Sidenote: Another point of view.]

_Soc._ Why, my friend, the inference is that the good is not
the same as the pleasant, or the evil the same as the painful;
there is a cessation of pleasure and pain at the same moment;
but not of good and evil, for they are different. How then
can pleasure be the same as good, or pain as evil? And I
would have you look at the matter in another light, which
could hardly, I think, have been considered by you when you
identified them: Are not the good good because they have
good present with them, as the beautiful are those who have
beauty present with them?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And do you call the fools and cowards good men?
For you were saying just now that the courageous and the
wise are the good—would you not say so?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And did you never see a foolish child rejoicing?

_Cal._ Yes, I have.

_Soc._ And a foolish man too?

_Cal._ Yes, certainly; but what is your drift?

_Soc._ Nothing particular, if you will only answer. 498

_Cal._ Yes, I have.

_Soc._ And did you ever see a sensible man rejoicing or
sorrowing?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ Which rejoice and sorrow most—the wise or the
foolish?

_Cal._ They are much upon a par, I think, in that respect.

_Soc._ Enough: And did you ever see a coward in battle?

_Cal._ To be sure.

_Soc._ And which rejoiced most at the departure of the
enemy, the coward or the brave?

_Cal._ I should say ‘most’ of both; or at any rate, they rejoiced
about equally.

_Soc._ No matter; then the cowards, and not only the brave,
rejoice?

_Cal._ Greatly.

_Soc._ And the foolish; so it would seem?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And are only the cowards pained at the approach of
their enemies, or are the brave also pained?

_Cal._ Both are pained.

[Sidenote: _A far-fetched argument,_]

_Soc._ And are they equally pained?

_Cal._ I should imagine that the cowards are more pained.

_Soc._ And are they not better pleased at the enemy’s departure?

_Cal._ I dare say.

[Sidenote: Good is in proportion to pleasure, and the bad are often as much or more pleased than the good.]

_Soc._ Then are the foolish and the wise and the cowards
and the brave all pleased and pained, as you were saying, in
nearly equal degree; but are the cowards more pleased and
pained than the brave?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ But surely the wise and brave are the good, and the
foolish and the cowardly are the bad?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then the good and the bad are pleased and pained in
a nearly equal degree?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then are the good and bad good and bad in a nearly
equal degree, or have the bad the advantage both in good
and evil? [i. e. in having more pleasure and more pain.]

_Cal._ I really do not know what you mean.

_Soc._ Why, do you not remember saying that the good were
good because good was present with them, and the evil
because evil; and that pleasures were goods and pains
evils?

_Cal._ Yes, I remember.

_Soc._ And are not these pleasures or goods present to those
who rejoice—if they do rejoice?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then those who rejoice are good when goods are
present with them?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And those who are in pain have evil or sorrow present
with them?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And would you still say that the evil are evil by reason
of the presence of evil?

_Cal._ I should.

_Soc._ Then those who rejoice are good, and those who are
in pain evil?

_Cal._ Yes.

[Sidenote: _of which Callicles fails to see the drift._]

_Soc._ The degrees of good and evil vary with the degrees
of pleasure and of pain?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ Have the wise man and the fool, the brave and the
coward, joy and pain in nearly equal degrees? or would you
say that the coward has more?

_Cal._ I should say that he has.

_Soc._ Help me then to draw out the conclusion which
follows from our admissions; for it is good to repeat and
review what is good twice and thrice over, as they say. 499
Both the wise man and the brave man we allow to be good?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And the foolish man and the coward to be evil?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And he who has joy is good?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And he who is in pain is evil?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Soc._ The good and evil both have joy and pain, but, perhaps,
the evil has more of them?

_Cal._ Yes.

[Sidenote: Therefore the bad man is as good as the good, or perhaps even better.]

_Soc._ Then must we not infer, that the bad man is as good
and bad as the good, or, perhaps, even better?—is not this a
further inference which follows equally with the preceding
from the assertion that the good and the pleasant are the
same:—can this be denied, Callicles?

_Cal._ I have been listening and making admissions to you,
Socrates; and I remark that if a person grants you anything
in play, you, like a child, want to keep hold and will not give
it back. But do you really suppose that I or any other
human being denies that some pleasures are good and others
bad?

[Sidenote: Socrates begins again with some obvious truisms.]

_Soc._ Alas, Callicles, how unfair you are! you certainly treat
me as if I were a child, sometimes saying one thing, and then
another, as if you were meaning to deceive me. And yet I
thought at first that you were my friend, and would not have
deceived me if you could have helped. But I see that I was
mistaken; and now I suppose that I must make the best
of a bad business, as they said of old, and take what I
can get out of you.—Well, then, as I understand you to
say, I may assume that some pleasures are good and others
evil?

[Sidenote: _The unfairness of Callicles who, when beaten,_]

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ The beneficial are good, and the hurtful are evil?

_Cal._ To be sure.

_Soc._ And the beneficial are those which do some good, and
the hurtful are those which do some evil?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ Take, for example, the bodily pleasures of eating and
drinking, which we were just now mentioning—you mean to
say that those which promote health, or any other bodily excellence,
are good, and their opposites evil?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And in the same way there are good pains and there
are evil pains?

_Cal._ To be sure.

_Soc._ And ought we not to choose and use the good
pleasures and pains?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Soc._ But not the evil?

_Cal._ Clearly.

_Soc._ Because, if you remember, Polus and I have agreed
that all our actions are to be done for the sake of the good;—and
will you agree with us in saying, that the good is the
end of all our actions, and that all our actions are to be done
for the sake of the good, and not the good for the sake of 500
them?—will you add a third vote to our two?

_Cal._ I will.

_Soc._ Then pleasure, like everything else, is to be sought
for the sake of that which is good, and not that which is good
for the sake of pleasure?

_Cal._ To be sure.

_Soc._ But can every man choose what pleasures are good
and what are evil, or must he have art or knowledge of them
in detail?

_Cal._ He must have art.

[Sidenote: _pretends that his answers are not serious._]

_Soc._ Let me now remind you of what I was saying to
Gorgias and Polus; I was saying, as you will not have forgotten,
that there were some processes which aim only at
pleasure, and know nothing of a better and worse, and there
are other processes which know good and evil. And I
considered that cookery, which I do not call an art, but only
an experience, was of the former class, which is concerned
with pleasure, and that the art of medicine was of the class
which is concerned with the good. And now, by the god of
friendship, I must beg you, Callicles, not to jest, or to
imagine that I am jesting with you; do not answer at
random and contrary to your real opinion;—for you will observe
that we are arguing about the way of human life; and to
a man who has any sense at all, what question can be more
serious than this?—whether he should follow after that way
of life to which you exhort me, and act what you call the
manly part of speaking in the assembly, and cultivating
rhetoric, and engaging in public affairs, according to the
principles now in vogue; or whether he should pursue the
life of philosophy;—and in what the latter way differs from
the former. But perhaps we had better first try to distinguish
them, as I did before, and when we have come to
an agreement that they are distinct, we may proceed to consider
in what they differ from one another, and which of
them we should choose. Perhaps, however, you do not
even now understand what I mean?

_Cal._ No, I do not.

_Soc._ Then I will explain myself more clearly: seeing that
you and I have agreed that there is such a thing as good,
and that there is such a thing as pleasure, and that pleasure
is not the same as good, and that the pursuit and process of
acquisition of the one, that is pleasure, is different from the
pursuit and process of acquisition of the other, which is
good—I wish that you would tell me whether you agree
with me thus far or not—do you agree?

_Cal._ I do.

[Sidenote: Socrates repeats his distinction between true arts and flatteries or shams, to which Callicles pretends to give assent.]

[Sidenote: _Callicles grows more and more_]

_Soc._ Then I will proceed, and ask whether you also agree
with me, and whether you think that I spoke the truth when 501
I further said to Gorgias and Polus that cookery in my
opinion is only an experience, and not an art at all; and
that whereas medicine is an art, and attends to the nature and
constitution of the patient, and has principles of action and
reason in each case, cookery in attending upon pleasure
never regards either the nature or reason of that pleasure to
which she devotes herself, but goes straight to her end, nor
ever considers or calculates anything, but works by experience
and routine, and just preserves the recollection of what she
has usually done when producing pleasure. And first, I
would have you consider whether I have proved what I was
saying, and then whether there are not other similar processes
which have to do with the soul—some of them processes
of art, making a provision for the soul’s highest
interest—others despising the interest, and, as in the
previous case, considering only the pleasure of the soul,
and how this may be acquired, but not considering what
pleasures are good or bad, and having no other aim but to
afford gratification, whether good or bad. In my opinion,
Callicles, there are such processes, and this is the sort of
thing which I term flattery, whether concerned with the
body or the soul, or whenever employed with a view to
pleasure and without any consideration of good and evil.
And now I wish that you would tell me whether you agree
with us in this notion, or whether you differ.

_Cal._ I do not differ; on the contrary, I agree; for in that
way I shall soonest bring the argument to an end, and shall
oblige my friend Gorgias.

_Soc._ And is this notion true of one soul, or of two or
more?

_Cal._ Equally true of two or more.

_Soc._ Then a man may delight a whole assembly, and yet
have no regard for their true interests?

_Cal._ Yes.

[Sidenote: There are arts which delight mankind but which never consider the soul’s higher interest.]

_Soc._ Can you tell me the pursuits which delight mankind—or
rather, if you would prefer, let me ask, and do you
answer, which of them belong to the pleasurable class, and
which of them not? In the first place, what say you of flute-playing?
Does not that appear to be an art which seeks
only pleasure, Callicles, and thinks of nothing else?

_Cal._ I assent.

_Soc._ And is not the same true of all similar arts, as, for
example, the art of playing the lyre at festivals?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And what do you say of the choral art and of dithyrambic
poetry?—are not they of the same nature? Do you
imagine that Cinesias the son of Meles cares about what
will tend to the moral improvement of his hearers, or about 502
what will give pleasure to the multitude?

[Sidenote: _impatient of the argument._]

_Cal._ There can be no mistake about Cinesias, Socrates.

_Soc._ And what do you say of his father, Meles the harp-player?
Did he perform with any view to the good of his
hearers? Could he be said to regard even their pleasure?
For his singing was an infliction to his audience. And of
harp-playing and dithyrambic poetry in general, what would
you say? Have they not been invented wholly for the sake
of pleasure?

_Cal._ That is my notion of them.

_Soc._ And as for the Muse of Tragedy, that solemn and
august personage—what are her aspirations? Is all her
aim and desire only to give pleasure to the spectators, or
does she fight against them and refuse to speak of their
pleasant vices, and willingly proclaim in word and song
truths welcome and unwelcome?—which in your judgment
is her character?

_Cal._ There can be no doubt, Socrates, that Tragedy has
her face turned towards pleasure and the gratification of the
audience.

_Soc._ And is not that the sort of thing, Callicles, which we
were just now describing as flattery?

_Cal._ Quite true.

_Soc._ Well now, suppose that we strip all poetry of song
and rhythm and metre, there will remain speech[42]?

_Cal._ To be sure.

_Soc._ And this speech is addressed to a crowd of people?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then poetry is a sort of rhetoric?

_Cal._ True.

_Soc._ And do not the poets in the theatres seem to you to
be rhetoricians?

_Cal._ Yes.

[Sidenote: Poetry is of the nature of flattery.]

_Soc._ Then now we have discovered a sort of rhetoric
which is addressed to a crowd of men, women, and children,
freemen and slaves. And this is not much to our taste, for
we have described it as having the nature of flattery.

[Sidenote: _The two sorts of rhetoric._]

_Cal._ Quite true.

[Sidenote: Oratory, too, as practised regards the interest of the speaker rather than the good of the people.]

_Soc._ Very good. And what do you say of that other
rhetoric which addresses the Athenian assembly and the
assemblies of freemen in other states? Do the rhetoricians
appear to you always to aim at what is best, and do they
seek to improve the citizens by their speeches, or are they
too, like the rest of mankind, bent upon giving them pleasure,
forgetting the public good in the thought of their own
interest, playing with the people as with children, and trying
to amuse them, but never considering whether they are
better or worse for this?

_Cal._ I must distinguish. There are some who have a real 503
care of the public in what they say, while others are such as
you describe.

[Sidenote: There might be a higher style of oratory; and Callicles thinks that such really existed in the great days of old, the days of Miltiades and Themistocles and Pericles.]

_Soc._ I am contented with the admission that rhetoric is of
two sorts; one, which is mere flattery and disgraceful declamation;
the other, which is noble and aims at the
training and improvement of the souls of the citizens, and
strives to say what is best, whether welcome or unwelcome,
to the audience; but have you ever known such a rhetoric;
or if you have, and can point out any rhetorician who is of
this stamp, who is he?

_Cal._ But, indeed, I am afraid that I cannot tell you of any
such among the orators who are at present living.

_Soc._ Well, then, can you mention any one of a former
generation, who may be said to have improved the Athenians,
who found them worse and made them better, from the day
that he began to make speeches? for, indeed, I do not know
of such a man.

_Cal._ What! did you never hear that Themistocles was a
good man, and Cimon and Miltiades and Pericles, who is
just lately dead, and whom you heard yourself?

[Sidenote: Yet even these famous men had no ideal or standard.]

_Soc._ Yes, Callicles, they were good men, if, as you said at
first, true virtue consists only in the satisfaction of our own
desires and those of others; but if not, and if, as we were
afterwards compelled to acknowledge, the satisfaction of
some desires makes us better, and of others, worse, and we
ought to gratify the one and not the other, and there is an
art in distinguishing them,—can you tell me of any of these
statesmen who did distinguish them?

[Sidenote: _The good man, like the good artist, a lover of order._]

_Cal._ No, indeed, I cannot.

[Sidenote: Some standard needed other than a man’s interest.]

_Soc._ Yet, surely, Callicles, if you look you will find such
a one. Suppose that we just calmly consider whether any
of these was such as I have described. Will not the good
man, who says whatever he says with a view to the best,
speak with a reference to some standard and not at random;
just as all other artists, whether the painter, the builder, the
shipwright, or any other look all of them to their own work,
and do not select and apply at random what they apply, but
strive to give a definite form to it? The artist disposes all
things in order, and compels the one part to harmonize and 504
accord with the other part, until he has constructed a regular
and systematic whole; and this is true of all artists, and in
the same way the trainers and physicians, of whom we spoke
before, give order and regularity to the body: do you deny
this?

_Cal._ No; I am ready to admit it.

[Sidenote: Order is good, disorder evil, in a ship, in a human body, in a human soul.]

_Soc._ Then the house in which order and regularity prevail
is good; that in which there is disorder, evil?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And the same is true of a ship?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And the same may be said of the human body?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And what would you say of the soul? Will the good
soul be that in which disorder is prevalent, or that in which
there is harmony and order?

_Cal._ The latter follows from our previous admissions.

_Soc._ What is the name which is given to the effect of
harmony and order in the body?

_Cal._ I suppose that you mean health and strength?

_Soc._ Yes, I do; and what is the name which you
would give to the effect of harmony and order in the
soul? Try and discover a name for this as well as for the
other.

_Cal._ Why not give the name yourself, Socrates?

_Soc._ Well, if you had rather that I should, I will; and
you shall say whether you agree with me, and if not, you
shall refute and answer me. ‘Healthy,’ as I conceive, is the
name which is given to the regular order of the body,
whence comes health and every other bodily excellence: is
that true or not?

[Sidenote: _Callicles again turns restive._]

_Cal._ True.

[Sidenote: From order and law spring temperance and justice.]

_Soc._ And ‘lawful’ and ‘law’ are the names which are
given to the regular order and action of the soul, and these
make men lawful and orderly:—and so we have temperance
and justice: have we not?

_Cal._ Granted.

[Sidenote: The true rhetorician will seek to implant these virtues, to implant justice and take away injustice.]

_Soc._ And will not the true rhetorician who is honest and
understands his art have his eye fixed upon these, in all the
words which he addresses to the souls of men, and in all his
actions, both in what he gives and in what he takes away?
Will not his aim be to implant justice in the souls of his
citizens and take away injustice, to implant temperance and
take away intemperance, to implant every virtue and take
away every vice? Do you not agree?

_Cal._ I agree.

_Soc._ For what use is there, Callicles, in giving to the body
of a sick man who is in a bad state of health a quantity of
the most delightful food or drink or any other pleasant
thing, which may be really as bad for him as if you gave him 505
nothing, or even worse if rightly estimated. Is not that
true?

_Cal._ I will not say No to it.

[Sidenote: The body of the sick and the soul of the wicked must be chastised and improved.]

_Soc._ For in my opinion there is no profit in a man’s life if
his body is in an evil plight—in that case his life also is evil:
am I not right?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ When a man is in health the physicians will generally
allow him to eat when he is hungry and drink when he
is thirsty, and to satisfy his desires as he likes, but when he
is sick they hardly suffer him to satisfy his desires at all:
even you will admit that?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ And does not the same argument hold of the soul,
my good sir? While she is in a bad state and is senseless
and intemperate and unjust and unholy, her desires ought to
be controlled, and she ought to be prevented from doing
anything which does not tend to her own improvement.

_Cal._ Yes.

[Sidenote: _Then ‘One man must do for two.’_]

_Soc._ Such treatment will be better for the soul herself?

_Cal._ To be sure.

_Soc._ And to restrain her from her appetites is to chastise
her?

_Cal._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then restraint or chastisement is better for the soul
than intemperance or the absence of control, which you
were just now preferring?

_Cal._ I do not understand you, Socrates, and I wish that
you would ask some one who does.

[Sidenote: Callicles does not wish to be improved.]

_Soc._ Here is a gentleman who cannot endure to be improved
or to subject himself to that very chastisement of
which the argument speaks!

_Cal._ I do not heed a word of what you are saying, and
have only answered hitherto out of civility to Gorgias.

_Soc._ What are we to do, then? Shall we break off in the
middle?

_Cal._ You shall judge for yourself.

_Soc._ Well, but people say that ‘a tale should have a head
and not break off in the middle,’ and I should not like to
have the argument going about without a head[43]; please
then to go on a little longer, and put the head on.

_Cal._ How tyrannical you are, Socrates! I wish that you
and your argument would rest, or that you would get some
one else to argue with you.

_Soc._ But who else is willing?—I want to finish the
argument.

_Cal._ Cannot you finish without my help, either talking
straight on, or questioning and answering yourself?

[Sidenote: _Recapitulation of the argument._]

_Soc._ Must I then say with Epicharmus, ‘Two men spoke
before, but now one shall be enough’? I suppose that there
is absolutely no help. And if I am to carry on the enquiry
by myself, I will first of all remark that not only I but all of
us should have an ambition to know what is true and what is
false in this matter, for the discovery of the truth is a common
good. And now I will proceed to argue according to
my own notion. But if any of you think that I arrive at 506
conclusions which are untrue you must interpose and refute
me, for I do not speak from any knowledge of what I am
saying, I am an enquirer like yourselves, and therefore, if
my opponent says anything which is of force, I shall be the
first to agree with him. I am speaking on the supposition
that the argument ought to be completed; but if you think
otherwise let us leave off and go our ways.

_Gor._ I think, Socrates, that we should not go our ways
until you have completed the argument; and this appears to
me to be the wish of the rest of the company; I myself
should very much like to hear what more you have to say.

_Soc._ I too, Gorgias, should have liked to continue the
argument with Callicles, and then I might have given him an
‘Amphion’ in return for his ‘Zethus’[44]; but since you, Callicles,
are unwilling to continue, I hope that you will listen,
and interrupt me if I seem to you to be in error. And if you
refute me, I shall not be angry with you as you are with me,
but I shall inscribe you as the greatest of benefactors on the
tablets of my soul.

_Cal._ My good fellow, never mind me, but get on.

[Sidenote: The pleasant not the same as the good, and is to be sought only for the sake of the good: and we are good when good is present in us, and good is the effect of order and truth and art.]

_Soc._ Listen to me, then, while I recapitulate the argument:—Is
the pleasant the same as the good? Not the same.
Callicles and I are agreed about that. And is the pleasant
to be pursued for the sake of the good? or the good for the
sake of the pleasant? The pleasant is to be pursued for the
sake of the good. And that is pleasant at the presence of
which we are pleased, and that is good at the presence of
which we are good? To be sure. And we are good, and all
good things whatever are good when some virtue is present
in us or them? That, Callicles, is my conviction. But the
virtue of each thing, whether body or soul, instrument or
creature, when given to them in the best way comes to them
not by chance but as the result of the order and truth and
art which are imparted to them: Am I not right? I maintain
that I am. And is not the virtue of each thing dependent on
order or arrangement? Yes, I say. And that which makes
a thing good is the proper order inhering in each thing?
Such is my view. And is not the soul which has an order of
her own better than that which has no order? Certainly.
And the soul which has order is orderly? Of course. And
that which is orderly is temperate? Assuredly. And the 507
temperate soul is good? No other answer can I give, Callicles
dear; have you any?

[Sidenote: _The intercommunion of the virtues._]

_Cal._ Go on, my good fellow.

_Soc._ Then I shall proceed to add, that if the temperate
soul is the good soul, the soul which is in the opposite
condition, that is, the foolish and intemperate, is the bad soul.
Very true.

[Sidenote: The temperate soul is the good soul, just in relation to men, and holy in relation to gods, and is therefore happy; and the intemperate is the reverse of all this.]

[Sidenote: If it be admitted that virtue is happiness and vice misery, then what Socrates said about the use of rhetoric in self-accusation turns out to be true.]

[Sidenote: _Geometry in both worlds._]

And will not the temperate man do what is proper, both in
relation to the gods and to men;—for he would not be temperate
if he did not? Certainly he will do what is proper.
In his relation to other men he will do what is just; and in
his relation to the gods he will do what is holy; and he who
does what is just and holy must be just and holy? Very
true. And must he not be courageous? for the duty of a
temperate man is not to follow or to avoid what he ought not,
but what he ought, whether things or men or pleasures or
pains, and patiently to endure when he ought; and therefore,
Callicles, the temperate man, being, as we have described,
also just and courageous and holy, cannot be other than
a perfectly good man, nor can the good man do otherwise
than well and perfectly whatever he does; and he who does
well must of necessity be happy and blessed, and the evil
man who does evil, miserable: now this latter is he whom
you were applauding—the intemperate who is the opposite of
the temperate. Such is my position, and these things I
affirm to be true. And if they are true, then I further affirm
that he who desires to be happy must pursue and practise
temperance and run away from intemperance as fast as his
legs will carry him: he had better order his life so as not to
need punishment; but if either he or any of his friends,
whether private individual or city, are in need of punishment,
then justice must be done and he must suffer punishment, if
he would be happy. This appears to me to be the aim which
a man ought to have, and towards which he ought to direct
all the energies both of himself and of the state, acting so
that he may have temperance and justice present with him
and be happy, not suffering his lusts to be unrestrained, and
in the never-ending desire to satisfy them leading a robber’s
life. Such a one is the friend neither of God nor man, for
he is incapable of communion, and he who is incapable of
communion is also incapable of friendship. And philosophers
tell us, Callicles, that communion and friendship
and orderliness and temperance and justice bind together 508
heaven and earth and gods and men, and that this universe is
therefore called Cosmos or order, not disorder or misrule,
my friend. But although you are a philosopher you seem to
me never to have observed that geometrical equality is
mighty, both among gods and men; you think that you ought
to cultivate inequality or excess, and do not care about
geometry.—Well, then, either the principle that the happy
are made happy by the possession of justice and temperance,
and the miserable miserable by the possession of vice, must
be refuted, or, if it is granted, what will be the consequences?
All the consequences which I drew before, Callicles, and
about which you asked me whether I was in earnest when I
said that a man ought to accuse himself and his son and his
friend if he did anything wrong, and that to this end he
should use his rhetoric—all those consequences are true.
And that which you thought that Polus was led to admit out
of modesty is true, viz. that, to do injustice, if more disgraceful
than to suffer, is in that degree worse; and the other
position, which, according to Polus, Gorgias admitted out of
modesty, that he who would truly be a rhetorician ought to
be just and have a knowledge of justice, has also turned out
to be true.

[Sidenote: _The paradoxes are proven._]

[Sidenote: The greatest evil to do injustice, but there is a greater still, not to be punished for doing injustice.]

And now, these things being as we have said, let us
proceed in the next place to consider whether you are right
in throwing in my teeth that I am unable to help myself
or any of my friends or kinsmen, or to save them in the
extremity of danger, and that I am in the power of another
like an outlaw to whom any one may do what he likes,—he
may box my ears, which was a brave saying of yours; or
take away my goods or banish me, or even do his worst and
kill me; a condition which, as you say, is the height of
disgrace. My answer to you is one which has been already
often repeated, but may as well be repeated once more. I
tell you, Callicles, that to be boxed on the ears wrongfully is
not the worst evil which can befall a man, nor to have my
purse or my body cut open, but that to smite and slay me
and mine wrongfully is far more disgraceful and more evil;
aye, and to despoil and enslave and pillage, or in any way at
all to wrong me and mine, is far more disgraceful and evil to
the doer of the wrong than to me who am the sufferer.
These truths, which have been already set forth as I state 509
them in the previous discussion, would seem now to have
been fixed and riveted by us, if I may use an expression
which is certainly bold, in words which are like bonds of
iron and adamant; and unless you or some other still more
enterprising hero shall break them, there is no possibility of
denying what I say. For my position has always been, that
I myself am ignorant how these things are, but that I have
never met any one who could say otherwise, any more than
you can, and not appear ridiculous. This is my position
still, and if what I am saying is true, and injustice is the
greatest of evils to the doer of injustice, and yet there is if
possible a greater than this greatest of evils[45], in an unjust
man not suffering retribution, what is that defence of which
the want will make a man truly ridiculous? Must not the
defence be one which will avert the greatest of human evils?
And will not the worst of all defences be that with which
a man is unable to defend himself or his family or his
friends?—and next will come that which is unable to avert
the next greatest evil; thirdly that which is unable to avert
the third greatest evil; and so of other evils. As is the
greatness of evil so is the honour of being able to avert them
in their several degrees, and the disgrace of not being able to
avert them. Am I not right, Callicles?

_Cal._ Yes, quite right.

_Soc._ Seeing then that there are these two evils, the doing
injustice and the suffering injustice—and we affirm that to do
injustice is a greater, and to suffer injustice a lesser evil—by
what devices can a man succeed in obtaining the two
advantages, the one of not doing and the other of not suffering
injustice? must he have the power, or only the will to
obtain them? I mean to ask whether a man will escape injustice
if he has only the will to escape, or must he have
provided himself with the power?

_Cal._ He must have provided himself with the power; that
is clear.

[Sidenote: _The tyrant and his satellites._]

_Soc._ And what do you say of doing injustice? Is the will
only sufficient, and will that prevent him from doing injustice,
or must he have provided himself with power and art; and
if he have not studied and practised, will he be unjust still?
Surely you might say, Callicles, whether you think that Polus
and I were right in admitting the conclusion that no one
does wrong voluntarily, but that all do wrong against their
will?

_Cal._ Granted, Socrates, if you will only have done. 510

_Soc._ Then, as would appear, power and art have to be provided
in order that we may do no injustice?

_Cal._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And what art will protect us from suffering injustice,
if not wholly, yet as far as possible? I want to know whether
you agree with me; for I think that such an art is the art of
one who is either a ruler or even tyrant himself, or the equal
and companion of the ruling power.

_Cal._ Well said, Socrates; and please to observe how
ready I am to praise you when you talk sense.

_Soc._ Think and tell me whether you would approve of another
view of mine: To me every man appears to be most
the friend of him who is most like to him—like to like, as
ancient sages say: Would you not agree to this?

_Cal._ I should.

[Sidenote: The tyrant naturally hates both his superiors and inferiors: he likes only those who resemble him in character.]

_Soc._ But when the tyrant is rude and uneducated, he may
be expected to fear any one who is his superior in virtue, and
will never be able to be perfectly friendly with him.

_Cal._ That is true.

_Soc._ Neither will he be the friend of any one who is greatly
his inferior, for the tyrant will despise him, and will never
seriously regard him as a friend.

_Cal._ That again is true.

_Soc._ Then the only friend worth mentioning, whom the
tyrant can have, will be one who is of the same character, and
has the same likes and dislikes, and is at the same time
willing to be subject and subservient to him; he is the man
who will have power in the state, and no one will injure him
with impunity:—is not that so?

_Cal._ Yes.

[Sidenote: _The bad man will kill the good._]

_Soc._ And if a young man begins to ask how he may become
great and formidable, this would seem to be the way—he
will accustom himself, from his youth upward, to feel
sorrow and joy on the same occasions as his master, and will
contrive to be as like him as possible?

_Cal._ Yes.

[Sidenote: And the way to be a great man and not to suffer injury is to become like him. And there can be no greater evil to him than this.]

_Soc._ And in this way he will have accomplished, as you
and your friends would say, the end of becoming a great man
and not suffering injury?

_Cal._ Very true.

_Soc._ But will he also escape from doing injury? Must not
the very opposite be true, if he is to be like the tyrant in his
injustice, and to have influence with him? Will he not 511
rather contrive to do as much wrong as possible, and not be
punished?

_Cal._ True.

_Soc._ And by the imitation of his master and by the power
which he thus acquires will not his soul become bad and
corrupted, and will not this be the greatest evil to him?

_Cal._ You always contrive somehow or other, Socrates, to
invert everything: do you not know that he who imitates the
tyrant will, if he has a mind, kill him who does not imitate
him and take away his goods?

[Sidenote: But how provoking that the bad man should slay the good!]

_Soc._ Excellent Callicles, I am not deaf, and I have heard
that a great many times from you and from Polus and from
nearly every man in the city, but I wish that you would hear
me too. I dare say that he will kill him if he has a mind—the
bad man will kill the good and true.

_Cal._ And is not that just the provoking thing?

[Sidenote: Nay, but we should not always study the arts which save us from death;—the art of swimming, the art of the pilot, &c.]

_Soc._ Nay, not to a man of sense, as the argument shows: do
you think that all our cares should be directed to prolonging
life to the uttermost, and to the study of those arts which
secure us from danger always; like that art of rhetoric
which saves men in courts of law, and which you advise me
to cultivate?

_Cal._ Yes, truly, and very good advice too.

_Soc._ Well, my friend, but what do you think of swimming;
is that an art of any great pretensions?

_Cal._ No, indeed.

_Soc._ And yet surely swimming saves a man from death,
and there are occasions on which he must know how to swim.

[Sidenote: _Who can say whether to be saved_]

[Sidenote: The pilot demands a very moderate payment as the fare of a passenger from Athens to Aegina, because he is not certain whether salvation from death be a good or an evil.]

And if you despise the swimmers, I will tell you of another
and greater art, the art of the pilot, who not only saves the
souls of men, but also their bodies and properties from the
extremity of danger, just like rhetoric. Yet his art is modest
and unpresuming: it has no airs or pretences of doing anything
extraordinary, and, in return for the same salvation
which is given by the pleader, demands only two obols, if he
brings us from Aegina to Athens, or for the longer voyage
from Pontus or Egypt, at the utmost two drachmae, when he
has saved, as I was just now saying, the passenger and his
wife and children and goods, and safely disembarked them at
the Piraeus,—this is the payment which he asks in return for
so great a boon; and he who is the master of the art, and has
done all this, gets out and walks about on the sea-shore by
his ship in an unassuming way. For he is able to reflect and
is aware that he cannot tell which of his fellow-passengers he
has benefited, and which of them he has injured in not allowing
them to be drowned. He knows that they are just the
same when he has disembarked them as when they embarked, 512
and not a whit better either in their bodies or in their souls;
and he considers that if a man who is afflicted by great and
incurable bodily diseases is only to be pitied for having
escaped, and is in no way benefited by him in having been
saved from drowning, much less he who has great and incurable
diseases, not of the body, but of the soul, which is the
more valuable part of him; neither is life worth having nor
of any profit to the bad man, whether he be delivered from
the sea, or the law-courts, or any other devourer;—and so he
reflects that such a one had better not live, for he cannot
live well[46].

[Sidenote: _from death be good or evil?_]

[Sidenote: The engineer, too:—how much better than the pleader!]

[Sidenote: He too is another of your saviours: but you despise him, whereas you ought to esteem him highly.]

[Sidenote: I want you to consider whether you can possibly become great among the people unless you become like them.]

And this is the reason why the pilot, although he is our
saviour, is not usually conceited, any more than the engineer,
who is not at all behind either the general, or the pilot, or
any one else, in his saving power, for he sometimes saves
whole cities. Is there any comparison between him and the
pleader? And if he were to talk, Callicles, in your grandiose
style, he would bury you under a mountain of words, declaring
and insisting that we ought all of us to be engine-makers,
and that no other profession is worth thinking about;
he would have plenty to say. Nevertheless you despise him
and his art, and sneeringly call him an engine-maker, and
you will not allow your daughters to marry his son, or marry
your son to his daughters. And yet, on your principle, what
justice or reason is there in your refusal? What right have
you to despise the engine-maker, and the others whom I was
just now mentioning? I know that you will say, ‘I am
better, and better born.’ But if the better is not what I say,
and virtue consists only in a man saving himself and his,
whatever may be his character, then your censure of the
engine-maker, and of the physician, and of the other arts of
salvation, is ridiculous. O my friend! I want you to see that
the noble and the good may possibly be something different
from saving and being saved:—May not he who is truly a
man cease to care about living a certain time?—he knows, as
women say, that no man can escape fate, and therefore he is
not fond of life; he leaves all that with God, and considers
in what way he can best spend his appointed term;—whether
by assimilating himself to the constitution under which he
lives, as you at this moment have to consider how you may 513
become as like as possible to the Athenian people, if you
mean to be in their good graces, and to have power in the
state; whereas I want you to think and see whether this is
for the interest of either of us;—I would not have us risk
that which is dearest on the acquisition of this power, like
the Thessalian enchantresses, who, as they say, bring down
the moon from heaven at the risk of their own perdition.
But if you suppose that any man will show you the art of
becoming great in the city, and yet not conforming yourself
to the ways of the city, whether for better or worse, then I
can only say that you are mistaken, Callicles; for he who
would deserve to be the true natural friend of the Athenian
Demus, aye, or of Pyrilampes’ darling who is called after
them, must be by nature like them, and not an imitator only.
He, then, who will make you most like them, will make you
as you desire, a statesman and orator: for every man is
pleased when he is spoken to in his own language and spirit,
and dislikes any other. But perhaps you, sweet Callicles,
may be of another mind. What do you say?

[Sidenote: Callicles inclines for an instant to the Gospel of Socrates, but the love of the world and of popularity overcomes him.]

[Sidenote: _Reiteration._]

_Cal._ Somehow or other your words, Socrates, always
appear to me to be good words; and yet, like the rest of the
world, I am not quite convinced by them[47].

_Soc._ The reason is, Callicles, that the love of Demus which
abides in your soul is an adversary to me; but I dare say that
if we recur to these same matters, and consider them more
thoroughly, you may be convinced for all that. Please, then,
to remember that there are two processes of training all
things, including body and soul; in the one, as we said, we
treat them with a view to pleasure, and in the other with a
view to the highest good, and then we do not indulge but
resist them: was not that the distinction which we drew?

[Sidenote: Two processes of training: one having a view to pleasure, the other to good.]

_Cal._ Very true.

_Soc._ And the one which had pleasure in view was just a
vulgar flattery:—was not that another of our conclusions?

_Cal._ Be it so, if you will have it.

_Soc._ And the other had in view the greatest improvement
of that which was ministered to, whether body or soul?

_Cal._ Quite true.

[Sidenote: And we must train our citizens with a view to their good; and, as in other arts, we must show that we can be trusted to improve them.]

_Soc._ And must we not have the same end in view in the
treatment of our city and citizens? Must we not try and
make them as good as possible? For we have already discovered
that there is no use in imparting to them any other 514
good, unless the mind of those who are to have the good,
whether money, or office, or any other sort of power, be
gentle and good. Shall we say that?

_Cal._ Yes, certainly, if you like.

_Soc._ Well, then, if you and I, Callicles, were intending[48] to
set about some public business, and were advising one another
to undertake buildings, such as walls, docks or temples of the
largest size, ought we not to examine ourselves, first, as to
whether we know or do not know the art of building, and
who taught us?—would not that be necessary, Callicles?

_Cal._ True.

_Soc._ In the second place, we should have to consider
whether we had ever constructed any private house, either of
our own or for our friends, and whether this building of ours
was a success or not; and if upon consideration we found
that we had had good and eminent masters, and had been
successful in constructing many fine buildings, not only with
their assistance, but without them, by our own unaided skill—in
that case prudence would not dissuade us from proceeding
to the construction of public works. But if we had no
master to show, and only a number of worthless buildings or
none at all, then, surely, it would be ridiculous in us to
attempt public works, or to advise one another to undertake
them. Is not this true?

[Sidenote: _The silence of Callicles._]

_Cal._ Certainly.