Chapter XXI: Part 21

But he is not too old to learn, and may still arrive at the truth,
if he is willing to be cross-examined by Socrates. He must know 129
himself; that is to say, not his body, or the things of the body,
but his mind, or truer self. The physician knows the body, and
the tradesman knows his own business, but they do not necessarily
know themselves. Self-knowledge can be obtained only
by looking into the mind and virtue of the soul, which is the -132
diviner part of a man, as we see our own image in another’s eye.
And if we do not know ourselves, we cannot know what belongs
to ourselves or belongs to others, and are unfit to take a part in
political affairs. Both for the sake of the individual and of the -134
state, we ought to aim at justice and temperance, not at wealth or
power. The evil and unjust should have no power,—they should
be the slaves of better men than themselves. None but the 135
virtuous are deserving of freedom.

And are you, Alcibiades, a freeman? ‘I feel that I am not; but
I hope, Socrates, that by your aid I may become free, and from
this day forward I will never leave you.’

* * * * *

[Sidenote: INTRODUCTION.]

The Alcibiades has several points of resemblance to the undoubted dialogues of Plato. The process of interrogation is of the same kind with that which Socrates practises upon the youthful Cleinias in the Euthydemus; and he characteristically attributes to Alcibiades the answers which he has elicited from him. The definition of good is narrowed by successive questions, and virtue is shown to be identical with knowledge. Here, as elsewhere, Socrates awakens the consciousness not of sin but of ignorance. Self-humiliation is the first step to knowledge, even of the commonest things. No man knows how ignorant he is, and no man can arrive at virtue and wisdom who has not once in his life, at least, been convicted of error. The process by which the soul is elevated is not unlike that which religious writers describe under the name of ‘conversion,’ if we substitute the sense of ignorance for the consciousness of sin.

[Sidenote: _Genuineness of the dialogue._]

In some respects the dialogue differs from any other Platonic composition. The aim is more directly ethical and hortatory; the process by which the antagonist is undermined is simpler than in other Platonic writings, and the conclusion more decided. There is a good deal of humour in the manner in which the pride of Alcibiades, and of the Greeks generally, is supposed to be taken down by the Spartan and Persian queens; and the dialogue has considerable dialectical merit. But we have a difficulty in supposing that the same writer, who has given so profound and complex a notion of the characters both of Alcibiades and Socrates in the Symposium, should have treated them in so thin and superficial a manner in the Alcibiades, or that he would have ascribed to the ironical Socrates the rather unmeaning boast that Alcibiades could not attain the objects of his ambition without his help (105 D foll.); or that he should have imagined that a mighty nature like his could have been reformed by a few not very conclusive words of Socrates. For the arguments by which Alcibiades is reformed are not convincing; the writer of the dialogue, whoever he was, arrives at his idealism by crooked and tortuous paths, in which many pitfalls are concealed. The anachronism of making Alcibiades about twenty years old during the life of his uncle, Pericles, may be noted; and the repetition of the favourite observation, which occurs also in the Laches and Protagoras, that great Athenian statesmen, like Pericles, failed in the education of their sons. There is none of the undoubted dialogues of Plato in which there is so little dramatic verisimilitude.

ALCIBIADES I.

_PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE._

ALCIBIADES, SOCRATES.

[Sidenote: _Alcibiades I._]

[Sidenote: The pride of Alcibiades has been too much for his lovers.]

_Socrates._ I dare say that you may be surprised to find, =Steph.= 103
O son of Cleinias, that I, who am your first lover, not having
spoken to you for many years, when the rest of the world
were wearying you with their attentions, am the last of your
lovers who still speaks to you. The cause of my silence has
been that I was hindered by a power more than human, of
which I will some day explain to you the nature; this impediment
has now been removed; I therefore here present
myself before you, and I greatly hope that no similar
hindrance will again occur. Meanwhile, I have observed
that your pride has been too much for the pride of your
admirers; they were numerous and high-spirited, but they
have all run away, overpowered by your superior force of
character; not one of them remains. And I want you to 104
understand the reason why you have been too much for
them. You think that you have no need of them or of any
other man, for you have great possessions and lack nothing,
beginning with the body, and ending with the soul. In the
first place, you say to yourself that you are the fairest and
tallest of the citizens, and this every one who has eyes may
see to be true; in the second place, that you are among the
noblest of them, highly connected both on the father’s and
the mother’s side, and sprung from one of the most distinguished
families in your own state, which is the greatest in
Hellas, and having many friends and kinsmen of the best
sort, who can assist you when in need; and there is one
potent relative, who is more to you than all the rest, Pericles
the son of Xanthippus, whom your father left guardian of
you, and of your brother, and who can do as he pleases
not only in this city, but in all Hellas, and among many and
mighty barbarous nations. Moreover, you are rich; but I
must say that you value yourself least of all upon your
possessions. And all these things have lifted you up; you
have overcome your lovers, and they have acknowledged that
you were too much for them. Have you not remarked their
absence? And now I know that you wonder why I, unlike
the rest of them, have not gone away, and what can be my
motive in remaining.

[Sidenote: _The extravagant aspiration_]

_Alcibiades._ Perhaps, Socrates, you are not aware that I was
just going to ask you the very same question—What do you
want? And what is your motive in annoying me, and
always, wherever I am, making a point of coming[55]? I do
really wonder what you mean, and should greatly like to
know.

_Soc._ Then if, as you say, you desire to know, I suppose that
you will be willing to hear, and I may consider myself to be
speaking to an auditor who will remain, and will not run
away?

_Al._ Certainly, let me hear.

_Soc._ You had better be careful, for I may very likely be as
unwilling to end as I have hitherto been to begin.

_Al._ Proceed, my good man, and I will listen.

[Sidenote: Alcibiades a lover, not of pleasure, but of ambition; and he requires the help of Socrates for the accomplishment of his designs.]

[Sidenote: And this is the reason why Socrates has clung to him; he is hoping when Alcibiades has become the ruler of Athens to rule over him.]

[Sidenote: _in which Alcibiades indulges._]

_Soc._ I will proceed; and, although no lover likes to speak
with one who has no feeling of love in him[56], I will make an
effort, and tell you what I meant: My love, Alcibiades, which 105
I hardly like to confess, would long ago have passed away, as
I flatter myself, if I saw you loving your good things, or
thinking that you ought to pass life in the enjoyment of them.
But I shall reveal other thoughts of yours, which you keep to
yourself; whereby you will know that I have always had my
eye on you. Suppose that at this moment some God came
to you and said: Alcibiades, will you live as you are, or die
in an instant if you are forbidden to make any further acquisition?—I
verily believe that you would choose death.
And I will tell you the hope in which you are at present
living: Before many days have elapsed, you think that you
will come before the Athenian assembly, and will prove to
them that you are more worthy of honour than Pericles, or
any other man that ever lived, and having proved this, you
will have the greatest power in the state. When you have
gained the greatest power among us, you will go on to other
Hellenic states, and not only to Hellenes, but to all the barbarians
who inhabit the same continent with us. And if the
God were then to say to you again: Here in Europe is to be
your seat of empire, and you must not cross over into Asia or
meddle with Asiatic affairs, I do not believe that you would
choose to live upon these terms; but the world, as I may say,
must be filled with your power and name—no man less than
Cyrus and Xerxes is of any account with you. Such I know
to be your hopes—I am not guessing only—and very likely
you, who know that I am speaking the truth, will reply, Well,
Socrates, but what have my hopes to do with the explanation
which you promised of your unwillingness to leave me?
And that is what I am now going to tell you, sweet son
of Cleinias and Dinomachè. The explanation is, that all
these designs of yours cannot be accomplished by you
without my help; so great is the power which I believe
myself to have over you and your concerns; and this
I conceive to be the reason why the God has hitherto forbidden
me to converse with you, and I have been long
expecting his permission. For, as you hope to prove your
own great value to the state, and having proved it, to attain
at once to absolute power, so do I indulge a hope that I shall
have the supreme power over you, if I am able to prove my
own great value to you, and to show you that neither
guardian, nor kinsman, nor any one is able to deliver into
your hands the power which you desire, but I only, God
being my helper. When you were young[57] and your hopes
were not yet matured, I should have wasted my time, and
therefore, as I conceive, the God forbade me to converse with 106
you; but now, having his permission, I will speak, for now
you will listen to me.

[Sidenote: Alcibiades does not deny the impeachment.]

[Sidenote: _The qualifications of Alcibiades for statesmanship_]

_Al._ Your silence, Socrates, was always a surprise to me.
I never could understand why you followed me about, and
now that you have begun to speak again, I am still more
amazed. Whether I think all this or not, is a matter about
which you seem to have already made up your mind, and
therefore my denial will have no effect upon you. But
granting, if I must, that you have perfectly divined my purposes,
why is your assistance necessary to the attainment of
them? Can you tell me why?

_Soc._ You want to know whether I can make a long speech,
such as you are in the habit of hearing; but that is not my
way. I think, however, that I can prove to you the truth of
what I am saying, if you will grant me one little favour.

_Al._ Yes, if the favour which you mean be not a troublesome
one.

_Soc._ Will you be troubled at having questions to answer?

[Sidenote: Alcibiades is willing to answer questions.]

_Al._ Not at all.

_Soc._ Then please to answer.

_Al._ Ask me.

_Soc._ Have you not the intention which I attribute to
you?

_Al._ I will grant anything you like, in the hope of hearing
what more you have to say.

_Soc._ You do, then, mean, as I was saying, to come forward
in a little while in the character of an adviser of the
Athenians? And suppose that when you are ascending the
bema, I pull you by the sleeve and say, Alcibiades, you are
getting up to advise the Athenians—do you know the matter
about which they are going to deliberate, better than they?—How
would you answer?

[Sidenote: He is going to advise the Athenians about matters which he knows better than they.]

_Al._ I should reply, that I was going to advise them about a
matter which I do know better than they.

_Soc._ Then you are a good adviser about the things which
you know?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And do you know anything but what you have learned
of others, or found out yourself?

_Al._ That is all.

_Soc._ And would you have ever learned or discovered anything,
if you had not been willing either to learn of others or
to examine yourself?

_Al._ I should not.

[Sidenote: _are tested by Socrates._]

_Soc._ And would you have been willing to learn or to
examine what you supposed that you knew?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ Then there was a time when you thought that you did
not know what you are now supposed to know?

_Al._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: But when did he ever learn about these matters?]

_Soc._ I think that I know tolerably well the extent of your
acquirements; and you must tell me if I forget any of them:
according to my recollection, you learned the arts of writing,
of playing on the lyre, and of wrestling; the flute you never
would learn; this is the sum of your accomplishments, unless
there were some which you acquired in secret; and I think
that secrecy was hardly possible, as you could not have come
out of your door, either by day or night, without my seeing
you.

_Al._ Yes, that was the whole of my schooling.

_Soc._ And are you going to get up in the Athenian assembly, 107
and give them advice about writing?

_Al._ No, indeed.

_Soc._ Or about the touch of the lyre?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ And they are not in the habit of deliberating about
wrestling, in the assembly?

_Al._ Hardly.

_Soc._ Then what are the deliberations in which you propose
to advise them? Surely not about building?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ For the builder will advise better than you will about
that?

_Al._ He will.

_Soc._ Nor about divination?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ About that again the diviner will advise better than
you will?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ Whether he be little or great, good or ill-looking,
noble or ignoble—makes no difference.

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ A man is a good adviser about anything, not because
he has riches, but because he has knowledge?

[Sidenote: _The cross-examination of_]

_Al._ Assuredly.

_Soc._ Whether their counsellor is rich or poor, is not a
matter which will make any difference to the Athenians when
they are deliberating about the health of the citizens; they
only require that he should be a physician.

_Al._ Of course.

_Soc._ Then what will be the subject of deliberation about
which you will be justified in getting up and advising them?

_Al._ About their own concerns, Socrates.

_Soc._ You mean about shipbuilding, for example, when the
question is what sort of ships they ought to build?

_Al._ No, I should not advise them about that.

_Soc._ I suppose, because you do not understand shipbuilding:—is
that the reason?

_Al._ It is.

_Soc._ Then about what concerns of theirs will you advise
them?

[Sidenote: He will advise them about war and peace, and with whom they had better go to war, and when and how long.]

_Al._ About war, Socrates, or about peace, or about any
other concerns of the state.

_Soc._ You mean, when they deliberate with whom they
ought to make peace, and with whom they ought to go to
war, and in what manner?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And they ought to go to war with those against whom
it is better to go to war?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And when it is better?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And for as long a time as is better?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ But suppose the Athenians to deliberate with whom
they ought to close in wrestling, and whom they should
grasp by the hand, would you, or the master of gymnastics,
be a better adviser of them?

_Al._ Clearly, the master of gymnastics.

_Soc._ And can you tell me on what grounds the master of
gymnastics would decide, with whom they ought or ought not
to close, and when and how? To take an instance: Would
he not say that they should wrestle with those against whom
it is best to wrestle?

[Sidenote: _Alcibiades is continued._]

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And as much as is best? 108

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And at such times as are best?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Again; you sometimes accompany the lyre with the
song and dance?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ When it is well to do so?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And as much as is well?

_Al._ Just so.

_Soc._ And as you speak of an excellence or art of the best
in wrestling, and of an excellence in playing the lyre, I wish
you would tell me what this latter is;—the excellence of
wrestling I call gymnastic, and I want to know what you call
the other.

_Al._ I do not understand you.

_Soc._ Then try to do as I do; for the answer which I gave
is universally right, and when I say right, I mean according
to rule.

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And was not the art of which I spoke gymnastic?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And I called the excellence in wrestling gymnastic?

_Al._ You did.

_Soc._ And I was right?

_Al._ I think that you were.

[Sidenote: Alcibiades should learn to argue nicely.]

_Soc._ Well, now,—for you should learn to argue prettily—let
me ask you in return to tell me, first, what is that art of
which playing and singing, and stepping properly in the dance,
are parts,—what is the name of the whole? I think that by
this time you must be able to tell.

_Al._ Indeed I cannot.

_Soc._ Then let me put the matter in another way: what
do you call the Goddesses who are the patronesses of
art?

_Al._ The Muses do you mean, Socrates?

_Soc._ Yes, I do; and what is the name of the art which is
called after them?

[Sidenote: _What is the better?_]

_Al._ I suppose that you mean music.

[Sidenote: What is the meaning of ‘the better,’ ‘the more excellent.’]

_Soc._ Yes, that is my meaning; and what is the excellence
of the art of music, as I told you truly that the excellence of
wrestling was gymnastic—what is the excellence of music—to
be what?

_Al._ To be musical, I suppose.

_Soc._ Very good; and now please to tell me what is the
excellence of war and peace; as the more musical was the
more excellent, or the more gymnastical was the more excellent,
tell me, what name do you give to the more excellent in
war and peace?

_Al._ But I really cannot tell you.

[Sidenote: The term better, when applied to food, means more wholesome.]

_Soc._ But if you were offering advice to another and said
to him—This food is better than that, at this time and in this
quantity, and he said to you—What do you mean, Alcibiades,
by the word ‘better’? you would have no difficulty in replying
that you meant ‘more wholesome,’ although you do not
profess to be a physician: and when the subject is one of
which you profess to have knowledge, and about which you
are ready to get up and advise as if you knew, are you not
ashamed, when you are asked, not to be able to answer the
question? Is it not disgraceful? 109

_Al._ Very.

_Soc._ Well, then, consider and try to explain what is the
meaning of ‘better,’ in the matter of making peace and going
to war with those against whom you ought to go to war? To
what does the word refer?

_Al._ I am thinking, and I cannot tell.

_Soc._ But you surely know what are the charges which we
bring against one another, when we arrive at the point of
making war, and what name we give them?

_Al._ Yes, certainly; we say that deceit or violence has been
employed, or that we have been defrauded.

_Soc._ And how does this happen? Will you tell me how?
For there may be a difference in the manner.

_Al._ Do you mean by ‘how,’ Socrates, whether we suffered
these things justly or unjustly?

_Soc._ Exactly.

_Al._ There can be no greater difference than between just
and unjust.

[Sidenote: _What is the better?_]

_Soc._ And would you advise the Athenians to go to war with
the just or with the unjust?

_Al._ That is an awkward question; for certainly, even if a
person did intend to go to war with the just, he would not
admit that they were just.

_Soc._ He would not go to war, because it would be
unlawful?

_Al._ Neither lawful nor honourable.

_Soc._ Then you, too, would address them on principles of
justice?

_Al._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: In going to war or not going to war, the better is the more just.]

_Soc._ What, then, is justice but that better, of which I spoke,
in going to war or not going to war with those against whom
we ought or ought not, and when we ought or ought not to
go to war?

_Al._ Clearly.

_Soc._ But how is this, friend Alcibiades? Have you forgotten
that you do not know this, or have you been to the
schoolmaster without my knowledge, and has he taught you
to discern the just from the unjust? Who is he? I wish
you would tell me, that I may go and learn of him—you shall
introduce me.

_Al._ You are mocking, Socrates.

[Sidenote: But where did Alcibiades acquire this notion of just and unjust?]

_Soc._ No, indeed; I most solemnly declare to you by Zeus,
who is the God of our common friendship, and whom I never
will forswear, that I am not; tell me, then, who this instructor
is, if he exists.

_Al._ But, perhaps, he does not exist; may I not have
acquired the knowledge of just and unjust in some other way?

_Soc._ Yes; if you have discovered them.

_Al._ But do you not think that I could discover them?

_Soc._ I am sure that you might, if you enquired about
them.

_Al._ And do you not think that I would enquire?

_Soc._ Yes; if you thought that you did not know them.

_Al._ And was there not a time when I did so think?

_Soc._ Very good; and can you tell me how long it is
since you thought that you did not know the nature of the 110
just and the unjust? What do you say to a year ago?
Were you then in a state of conscious ignorance and enquiry?
or did you think that you knew? And please to answer
truly, that our discussion may not be in vain.

[Sidenote: _The nature of just and unjust._]

_Al._ Well, I thought that I knew.

_Soc._ And two years ago, and three years ago, and four
years ago, you knew all the same?

_Al._ I did.

_Soc._ And more than four years ago you were a child—were
you not?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And then I am quite sure that you thought you knew.

_Al._ Why are you so sure?

[Sidenote: He always had them.]

_Soc._ Because I often heard you when a child, in your
teacher’s house, or elsewhere, playing at dice or some other
game with the boys, not hesitating at all about the nature of
the just and unjust; but very confident—crying and shouting
that one of the boys was a rogue and a cheat, and had been
cheating. Is it not true?

_Al._ But what was I to do, Socrates, when anybody cheated
me?

_Soc._ And how can you say, ‘What was I to do’? if at the
time you did not know whether you were wronged or not?

_Al._ To be sure I knew; I was quite aware that I was being
cheated.

_Soc._ Then you suppose yourself even when a child to have
known the nature of just and unjust?

_Al._ Certainly; and I did know then.

_Soc._ And when did you discover them—not, surely, at the
time when you thought that you knew them?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ And when did you think that you were ignorant—if
you consider, you will find that there never was such a time?

_Al._ Really, Socrates, I cannot say.

_Soc._ Then you did not learn them by discovering them?

_Al._ Clearly not.

_Soc._ But just before you said that you did not know them by
learning; now, if you have neither discovered nor learned
them, how and whence do you come to know them?

_Al._ I suppose that I was mistaken in saying that I knew
them through my own discovery of them; whereas, in truth,
I learned them in the same way that other people learn.

[Sidenote: _Could the many have taught the principles of justice?_]

_Soc._ So you said before, and I must again ask, of whom?
Do tell me.

_Al._ Of the many.

[Sidenote: He learned them of the many, as he learned Greek;—of those who knew it.]

_Soc._ Do you take refuge in them? I cannot say much for
your teachers.

_Al._ Why, are they not able to teach?

_Soc._ They could not teach you how to play at draughts,
which you would acknowledge (would you not) to be a much
smaller matter than justice?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And can they teach the better who are unable to teach
the worse?

_Al._ I think that they can; at any rate, they can teach many
far better things than to play at draughts.

_Soc._ What things? 111

_Al._ Why, for example, I learned to speak Greek of them,
and I cannot say who was my teacher, or to whom I am to
attribute my knowledge of Greek, if not to those good-for-nothing
teachers, as you call them.

_Soc._ Why, yes, my friend; and the many are good enough
teachers of Greek, and some of their instructions in that line
may be justly praised.

_Al._ Why is that?

_Soc._ Why, because they have the qualities which good
teachers ought to have.

_Al._ What qualities?

_Soc._ Why, you know that knowledge is the first qualification
of any teacher?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And if they know, they must agree together and not
differ?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And would you say that they knew the things about
which they differ?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ Then how can they teach them?

_Al._ They cannot.

[Sidenote: Yes: the many can teach things about which they are agreed.]

_Soc._ Well, but do you imagine that the many would differ
about the nature of wood and stone? are they not agreed if
you ask them what they are? and do they not run to fetch
the same thing, when they want a piece of wood or a stone?
And so in similar cases, which I suspect to be pretty nearly
all that you mean by speaking Greek.

[Sidenote: _That wars are caused by differences about just_]

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ These, as we were saying, are matters about which
they are agreed with one another and with themselves; both
individuals and states use the same words about them; they
do not use some one word and some another.

_Al._ They do not.

_Soc._ Then they may be expected to be good teachers of
these things?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And if we want to instruct any one in them, we shall
be right in sending him to be taught by our friends the
many?

_Al._ Very true.

_Soc._ But if we wanted further to know not only which
are men and which are horses, but which men or horses
have powers of running, would the many still be able to
inform us?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ And you have a sufficient proof that they do not know
these things and are not the best teachers of them, inasmuch
as they are never agreed about them?

_Al._ Yes.

[Sidenote: But could the many teach things about which they are disagreed?]

_Soc._ And suppose that we wanted to know not only what
men are like, but what healthy or diseased men are like—would
the many be able to teach us?

_Al._ They would not.

_Soc._ And you would have a proof that they were bad
teachers of these matters, if you saw them at variance?

_Al._ I should.

[Sidenote: And one of these things is justice.]

_Soc._ Well, but are the many agreed with themselves, or
with one another, about the justice or injustice of men and 112
things?

_Al._ Assuredly not, Socrates.

_Soc._ There is no subject about which they are more at
variance?

_Al._ None.

[Sidenote: _and unjust proved out of Homer._]

_Soc._ I do not suppose that you ever saw or heard of men
quarrelling over the principles of health and disease to such
an extent as to go to war and kill one another for the sake of
them?

[Sidenote: Did not a question of justice cause the war between the Trojans and Achaeans, and between the Athenians Lacedaemonians?]

_Al._ No indeed.

_Soc._ But of the quarrels about justice and injustice, even
if you have never seen them, you have certainly heard from
many people, including Homer; for you have heard of the
Iliad and Odyssey?

_Al._ To be sure, Socrates.

_Soc._ A difference of just and unjust is the argument of and
those poems?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ Which difference caused all the wars and deaths of
Trojans and Achaeans, and the deaths of the suitors of
Penelope in their quarrel with Odysseus.

_Al._ Very true.

_Soc._ And when the Athenians and Lacedaemonians and
Boeotians fell at Tanagra, and afterwards in the battle of
Coronea, at which your father Cleinias met his end, the
question was one of justice—this was the sole cause of the
battles, and of their deaths.

_Al._ Very true.

[Sidenote: And yet they did not know what they were fighting about?]

_Soc._ But can they be said to understand that about which
they are quarrelling to the death?

_Al._ Clearly not.

_Soc._ And yet those whom you thus allow to be ignorant
are the teachers to whom you are appealing.

_Al._ Very true.

_Soc._ But how are you ever likely to know the nature of
justice and injustice, about which you are so perplexed, if
you have neither learned them of others nor discovered them
yourself?

_Al._ From what you say, I suppose not.

_Soc._ See, again, how inaccurately you speak, Alcibiades!

_Al._ In what respect?

_Soc._ In saying that I say so.

_Al._ Why, did you not say that I know nothing of the just
and unjust?

_Soc._ No; I did not.

_Al._ Did I, then?

[Sidenote: _Is it Socrates or Alcibiades_]

_Soc._ Yes.

_Al._ How was that?

_Soc._ Let me explain. Suppose I were to ask you which
is the greater number, two or one; you would reply ‘two’?

_Al._ I should.

_Soc._ And by how much greater?

_Al._ By one.

_Soc._ Which of us now says that two is more than one?

_Al._ I do.

_Soc._ Did not I ask, and you answer the question?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then who is speaking? I who put the question, or 113
you who answer me?

_Al._ I am.

[Sidenote: The answerer, not the questioner, has been drawing these inferences.]

_Soc._ Or suppose that I ask and you tell me the letters
which make up the name Socrates, which of us is the
speaker?

_Al._ I am.

_Soc._ Now let us put the case generally: whenever there is
a question and answer, who is the speaker,—the questioner
or the answerer?

_Al._ I should say, Socrates, that the answerer was the
speaker.

_Soc._ And have I not been the questioner all through?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And you the answerer?

_Al._ Just so.

_Soc._ Which of us, then, was the speaker?

_Al._ The inference is, Socrates, that I was the speaker.

_Soc._ Did not some one say that Alcibiades, the fair son of
Cleinias, not understanding about just and unjust, but thinking
that he did understand, was going to the assembly to
advise the Athenians about what he did not know? Was
not that said?

_Al._ Very true.

[Sidenote: How can you teach what you do not know?]

_Soc._ Then, Alcibiades, the result may be expressed in the
language of Euripides. I think that you have heard all this
‘from yourself, and not from me’; nor did I say this, which
you erroneously attribute to me, but you yourself, and what
you said was very true. For indeed, my dear fellow, the
design which you meditate of teaching what you do not
know, and have not taken any pains to learn, is downright
insanity.

[Sidenote: _who is the real speaker?_]

[Sidenote: But the expedient, not the just, is the subject about which men commonly debate.]

_Al._ But, Socrates, I think that the Athenians and the rest
of the Hellenes do not often advise as to the more just or
unjust; for they see no difficulty in them, and therefore they
leave them, and consider which course of action will be
most expedient; for there is a difference between justice
and expediency. Many persons have done great wrong and
profited by their injustice; others have done rightly and
come to no good.

_Soc._ Well, but granting that the just and the expedient are
ever so much opposed, you surely do not imagine that you
know what is expedient for mankind, or why a thing is
expedient?

[Sidenote: Alcibiades insists that he will not have the old argument over again.]

_Al._ Why not, Socrates?—But I am not going to be
asked again from whom I learned, or when I made the
discovery.

_Soc._ What a way you have! When you make a mistake
which might be refuted by a previous argument, you insist on
having a new and different refutation; the old argument is a
worn-out garment which you will no longer put on, but some
one must produce another which is clean and new. Now I 114
shall disregard this move of yours, and shall ask over
again,—Where did you learn and how do you know the nature of
the expedient, and who is your teacher? All this I comprehend
in a single question, and now you will manifestly be
in the old difficulty, and will not be able to show that you
know the expedient, either because you learned or because
you discovered it yourself. But, as I perceive that you are
dainty, and dislike the taste of a stale argument, I will
enquire no further into your knowledge of what is expedient
or what is not expedient for the Athenian people, and simply
request you to say why you do not explain whether justice
and expediency are the same or different? And if you like
you may examine me as I have examined you, or, if you
would rather, you may carry on the discussion by yourself.

_Al._ But I am not certain, Socrates, whether I shall be
able to discuss the matter with you.

_Soc._ Then imagine, my dear fellow, that I am the demus
and the ecclesia; for in the ecclesia, too, you will have to
persuade men individually.

[Sidenote: _Is the just the same_]

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And is not the same person able to persuade one individual
singly and many individuals of the things which he
knows? The grammarian, for example, can persuade one
and he can persuade many about letters.

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ And about number, will not the same person persuade
one and persuade many?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And this will be he who knows number, or the arithmetician?

_Al._ Quite true.

[Sidenote: He who can persuade many can persuade one. Alcibiades should therefore be able to persuade Socrates.]

_Soc._ And cannot you persuade one man about that of which
you can persuade many?

_Al._ I suppose so.

_Soc._ And that of which you can persuade either is clearly
what you know?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And the only difference between one who argues as
we are doing, and the orator who is addressing an assembly,
is that the one seeks to persuade a number, and the other an
individual, of the same things.

_Al._ I suppose so.

_Soc._ Well, then, since the same person who can persuade
a multitude can persuade individuals, try conclusions upon
me, and prove to me that the just is not always expedient.

_Al._ You take liberties, Socrates.

_Soc._ I shall take the liberty of proving to you the opposite
of that which you will not prove to me.

_Al._ Proceed.

_Soc._ Answer my questions—that is all.

_Al._ Nay, I should like you to be the speaker.

_Soc._ What, do you not wish to be persuaded?

_Al._ Certainly I do.

_Soc._ And can you be persuaded better than out of your
own mouth?

_Al._ I think not.

_Soc._ Then you shall answer; and if you do not hear the
words, that the just is the expedient, coming from your own
lips, never believe another man again.

[Sidenote: _as the expedient or not?_]

_Al._ I won’t; but answer I will, for I do not see how I can
come to any harm.

[Sidenote: A man may do what is expedient and not just, but he cannot do what is honourable and not just and good.]

_Soc._ A true prophecy! Let me begin then by enquiring of 115
you whether you allow that the just is sometimes expedient
and sometimes not?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And sometimes honourable and sometimes not?

_Al._ What do you mean?

_Soc._ I am asking if you ever knew any one who did what
was dishonourable and yet just?

_Al._ Never.

_Soc._ All just things are honourable?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And are honourable things sometimes good and sometimes
not good, or are they always good?

_Al._ I rather think, Socrates, that some honourable things
are evil.

_Soc._ And are some dishonourable things good?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ You mean in such a case as the following:—In time
of war, men have been wounded or have died in rescuing a
companion or kinsman, when others who have neglected the
duty of rescuing them have escaped in safety?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ And to rescue another under such circumstances is
honourable, in respect of the attempt to save those whom we
ought to save; and this is courage?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ But evil in respect of death and wounds?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And the courage which is shown in the rescue is one
thing, and the death another?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then the rescue of one’s friends is honourable in one
point of view, but evil in another?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ And if honourable, then also good: Will you consider
now whether I may not be right, for you were acknowledging
that the courage which is shown in the rescue is honourable?
Now is this courage good or evil? Look at the matter
thus: which would you rather choose, good or evil?

[Sidenote: _The comparative eligibility of goods._]

_Al._ Good.

_Soc._ And the greatest goods you would be most ready to
choose, and would least like to be deprived of them?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ What would you say of courage? At what price
would you be willing to be deprived of courage?

_Al._ I would rather die than be a coward.

_Soc._ Then you think that cowardice is the worst of evils?

_Al._ I do.

_Soc._ As bad as death, I suppose?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And life and courage are the extreme opposites of
death and cowardice?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And they are what you would most desire to have,
and their opposites you would least desire?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Is this because you think life and courage the best,
and death and cowardice the worst?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And you would term the rescue of a friend in battle
honourable, in as much as courage does a good work?

_Al._ I should.

[Sidenote: But good may contain an element of evil. Good and evil are to be judged of by their consequences.]

_Soc._ But evil because of the death which ensues?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Might we not describe their different effects as follows:—You
may call either of them evil in respect of the evil
which is the result, and good in respect of the good which is
the result of either of them? 116

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And they are honourable in so far as they are good,
and dishonourable in so far as they are evil?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ Then when you say that the rescue of a friend in
battle is honourable and yet evil, that is equivalent to saying
that the rescue is good and yet evil?

_Al._ I believe that you are right, Socrates.

[Sidenote: _The honourable, the good, the expedient, all one._]

_Soc._ Nothing honourable, regarded as honourable, is evil;
nor anything base, regarded as base, good.

_Al._ Clearly not.

[Sidenote: The honourable is identified with the good, and the good is the expedient, and therefore the just which is the honourable is also the expedient. All this has been proved by Alcibiades himself.]

_Soc._ Look at the matter yet once more in a further light:
he who acts honourably acts well?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And he who acts well is happy?

_Al._ Of course.

_Soc._ And the happy are those who obtain good?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ And they obtain good by acting well and honourably?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then acting well is a good?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And happiness is a good?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then the good and the honourable are again identified.

_Al._ Manifestly.

_Soc._ Then, if the argument holds, what we find to be
honourable we shall also find to be good?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And is the good expedient or not?

_Al._ Expedient.

_Soc._ Do you remember our admissions about the just?

_Al._ Yes; if I am not mistaken, we said that those who
acted justly must also act honourably.

_Soc._ And the honourable is the good?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And the good is expedient?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ Then, Alcibiades, the just is expedient?

_Al._ I should infer so.

_Soc._ And all this I prove out of your own mouth, for I ask
and you answer?

_Al._ I must acknowledge it to be true.

_Soc._ And having acknowledged that the just is the same
as the expedient, are you not (let me ask) prepared to
ridicule any one who, pretending to understand the principles
of justice and injustice, gets up to advise the noble
Athenians or the ignoble Peparethians, that the just may be
the evil?

[Sidenote: _The conceit of knowledge_]

[Sidenote: Yet he still finds himself in a perplexity, and this is because he thinks that he knows, but if he knew that he were ignorant he would be in no perplexity.]

_Al._ I solemnly declare, Socrates, that I do not know what I
am saying. Verily, I am in a strange state, for when you
put questions to me I am of different minds in successive
instants.

_Soc._ And are you not aware of the nature of this perplexity,
my friend?

_Al._ Indeed I am not.

_Soc._ Do you suppose that if some one were to ask you
whether you have two eyes or three, or two hands or four,
or anything of that sort, you would then be of different
minds in successive instants?

_Al._ I begin to distrust myself, but still I do not suppose 117
that I should.

_Soc._ You would feel no doubt; and for this reason—because
you would know?

_Al._ I suppose so.

_Soc._ And the reason why you involuntarily contradict
yourself is clearly that you are ignorant?

_Al._ Very likely.

_Soc._ And if you are perplexed in answering about just
and unjust, honourable and dishonourable, good and evil,
expedient and inexpedient, the reason is that you are
ignorant of them, and therefore in perplexity. Is not that
clear?

_Al._ I agree.

_Soc._ But is this always the case, and is a man necessarily
perplexed about that of which he has no knowledge?

_Al._ Certainly he is.

_Soc._ And do you know how to ascend into heaven?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ And in this case, too, is your judgment perplexed?

_Al._ No.

_Soc._ Do you see the reason why, or shall I tell you?

_Al._ Tell me.

_Soc._ The reason is, that you not only do not know, my
friend, but you do not think that you know.

_Al._ There again; what do you mean?

[Sidenote: _and the consciousness of ignorance._]

_Soc._ Ask yourself; are you in any perplexity about things
of which you are ignorant? You know, for example, that
you know nothing about the preparation of food.

_Al._ Very true.

_Soc._ And do you think and perplex yourself about the
preparation of food: or do you leave that to some one who
understands the art?

_Al._ The latter.

_Soc._ Or if you were on a voyage, would you bewilder
yourself by considering whether the rudder is to be drawn
inwards or outwards, or do you leave that to the pilot, and
do nothing?

_Al._ It would be the concern of the pilot.

_Soc._ Then you are not perplexed about what you do not
know, if you know that you do not know it?

_Al._ I imagine not.

[Sidenote: The people who make mistakes are neither those who know, nor those who do not know, but those who think that they know and do not know.]

_Soc._ Do you not see, then, that mistakes in life and
practice are likewise to be attributed to the ignorance which
has conceit of knowledge?

_Al._ Once more, what do you mean?

_Soc._ I suppose that we begin to act when we think that we
know what we are doing?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ But when people think that they do not know, they
entrust their business to others?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And so there is a class of ignorant persons who do
not make mistakes in life, because they trust others about
things of which they are ignorant?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ Who, then, are the persons who make mistakes?
They cannot, of course, be those who know?

_Al._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ But if neither those who know, nor those who know
that they do not know, make mistakes, there remain those 118
only who do not know and think that they know.

_Al._ Yes, only those.

_Soc._ Then this is ignorance of the disgraceful sort which is
mischievous?

_Al._ Yes.

[Sidenote: _Pericles and the philosophers._]

_Soc._ And most mischievous and most disgraceful when
having to do with the greatest matters?

_Al._ By far.

_Soc._ And can there be any matters greater than the just,
the honourable, the good, and the expedient?

_Al._ There cannot be.

_Soc._ And these, as you were saying, are what perplex you?

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ But if you are perplexed, then, as the previous argument
has shown, you are not only ignorant of the greatest
matters, but being ignorant you fancy that you know
them?

_Al._ I fear that you are right.

[Sidenote: And you, like other statesmen, rush into politics without being trained. Pericles, alone of them all, associated with the philosophers.]

_Soc._ And now see what has happened to you, Alcibiades!
I hardly like to speak of your evil case, but as we are alone
I will: My good friend, you are wedded to ignorance of the
most disgraceful kind, and of this you are convicted, not by
me, but out of your own mouth and by your own argument;
wherefore also you rush into politics before you are educated.
Neither is your case to be deemed singular. For I might say
the same of almost all our statesmen, with the exception,
perhaps, of your guardian, Pericles.

_Al._ Yes, Socrates; and Pericles is said not to have got
his wisdom by the light of nature, but to have associated
with several of the philosophers; with Pythocleides, for
example, and with Anaxagoras, and now in advanced life
with Damon, in the hope of gaining wisdom.

_Soc._ Very good; but did you ever know a man wise in
anything who was unable to impart his particular wisdom?
For example, he who taught you letters was not only wise,
but he made you and any others whom he liked wise.

_Al._ Yes.

_Soc._ And you, whom he taught, can do the same?

_Al._ True.

_Soc._ And in like manner the harper and gymnastic-master?

_Al._ Certainly.

_Soc._ When a person is enabled to impart knowledge to
another, he thereby gives an excellent proof of his own
understanding of any matter.

_Al._ I agree.

[Sidenote: _The higher standard._]

_Soc._ Well, and did Pericles make any one wise; did he
begin by making his sons wise?

_Al._ But, Socrates, if the two sons of Pericles were simpletons,
what has that to do with the matter?

[Sidenote: And even he could not teach his own sons, or your brother Cleinias, nor did any one ever grow wiser in his society.]

_Soc._ Well, but did he make your brother, Cleinias, wise?

_Al._ Cleinias is a madman; there is no use in talking of
him.

_Soc._ But if Cleinias is a madman and the two sons of
Pericles were simpletons, what reason can be given why he
neglects you, and lets you be as you are?

_Al._ I believe that I am to blame for not listening to him.

_Soc._ But did you ever hear of any other Athenian or
foreigner, bond or free, who was deemed to have grown
wiser in the society of Pericles,—as I might cite Pythodorus, 119
the son of Isolochus, and Callias, the son of Calliades, who
have grown wiser in the society of Zeno, for which privilege
they have each of them paid him the sum of a hundred
minae[58] to the increase of their wisdom and fame.

_Al._ I certainly never did hear of any one.

_Soc._ Well, and in reference to your own case, do you
mean to remain as you are, or will you take some pains
about yourself?

[Sidenote: But if other statesmen are uneducated, what need has Alcibiades of education?]

_Al._ With your aid, Socrates, I will. And indeed, when I
hear you speak, the truth of what you are saying strikes
home to me, and I agree with you, for our statesmen, all but
a few, do appear to be quite uneducated.

_Soc._ What is the inference?

_Al._ Why, that if they were educated they would be trained
athletes, and he who means to rival them ought to have
knowledge and experience when he attacks them; but now,
as they have become politicians without any special training,
why should I have the trouble of learning and practising?
For I know well that by the light of nature I shall get the
better of them.

[Sidenote: The lover is pained at hearing from the lips of Alcibiades]

_Soc._ My dear friend, what a sentiment! And how unworthy
of your noble form and your high estate!

_Al._ What do you mean, Socrates; why do you say so?

_Soc._ I am grieved when I think of our mutual love.

_Al._ At what?

[Sidenote: _The Spartan kings._]

[Sidenote: so unworthy a sentiment. He should have a higher ambition than this.]

_Soc._ At your fancying that the contest on which you are
entering is with people here.

_Al._ Why, what others are there?

_Soc._ Is that a question which a magnanimous soul should
ask?

_Al._ Do you mean to say that the contest is not with these?

_Soc._ And suppose that you were going to steer a ship into
action, would you only aim at being the best pilot on board?
Would you not, while acknowledging that you must possess
this degree of excellence, rather look to your antagonists,
and not, as you are now doing, to your fellow combatants?
You ought to be so far above these latter, that they will not
even dare to be your rivals; and, being regarded by you as
inferiors, will do battle for you against the enemy; this is
the kind of superiority which you must establish over them, if
you mean to accomplish any noble action really worthy of
yourself and of the state.

_Al._ That would certainly be my aim.

_Soc._ Verily, then, you have good reason to be satisfied, if
you are better than the soldiers; and you need not, when
you are their superior and have your thoughts and actions
fixed upon them, look away to the generals of the enemy.

_Al._ Of whom are you speaking, Socrates?

[Sidenote: His rivals should be the Spartan and Persian kings, not any chance persons.]

_Soc._ Why, you surely know that our city goes to war 120
now and then with the Lacedaemonians and with the great
king?

_Al._ True enough.

_Soc._ And if you meant to be the ruler of this city, would
you not be right in considering that the Lacedaemonian and
Persian king were your true rivals?

_Al._ I believe that you are right.

[Sidenote: _The greatness of the royal family of Persia._]