Part 171

§ 24-27.

-----

Socrates then remarks, that he once heard some one say that like is most hostile to like, and the good to the good; and generally that things most like each other are most full of envy, strife and hatred, but such as are most unlike are most disposed to friendship, just as the dry desires the moist, the cold heat, and so on. Menexenus admits the truth of this, and of its consequence, that the contrary is most friendly to its contrary. But again Socrates drives him to this absurd conclusion, that since enmity is most contrary to friendship, therefore an enemy must be a friend to a friend, or a friend a friend to an enemy.

-----

Footnote 170:

§ 27-29.

-----

Since it appears, then, that neither is the like friendly to the like, nor the contrary to the contrary, Socrates next proposes to enquire whether that which is neither good nor evil can be the friend of the good. According to an ancient proverb, the beautiful is friendly, and the good is beautiful, whence he would conclude that that which is neither good nor evil is friendly to the beautiful and the good. There are three several classes of things, he says, the good, the evil, and that which is neither good nor evil. It has already been proved that the good is not friendly to the good, nor the evil to the evil, nor yet the good to the evil, nor the evil to the good; it remains, therefore, that that which is neither good nor evil must be friendly to the good. But a little further discussion leads to the more narrow conclusion, that that which is neither evil nor good is friendly to the good, on account of the presence of evil.

-----

Footnote 171:

§ 29-33.

-----

Both Lysis and Menexenus agree to this conclusion; but Socrates soon raises new difficulties, and shews the fallaciousness of their former reasoning. A friend, he says, is a friend to some one, and for the sake of something, and on account of something; for a rich man is a friend to a physician on account of disease, which is an evil, and for the sake of health, which is a good, so that that which is friendly is a friend for the sake of a friend, on account of an enemy. By proceeding in this way, he argues, we shall at length arrive at some principle, which will not have to be referred to another friend, but will arrive at the first friend, for the sake of which all other things are friends, and which is friendly for its own sake. Now it has already appeared that we are friendly to that which is good, and that we love the good on account of evil; if, therefore, evil were to be done away with the good would be of no use to us, and we should not love it. In this, too, his young friends are willing to acquiesce, but Socrates dispels this delusion also, and shews that evil cannot be the cause of love, since if evil were done away with the desires would still remain, which in reality are the causes of friendship; for that which desires desires what it stands in need of, and that which stands in need is friendly to that of which it stands in need: and so love, desire, and friendship respect that which, in a manner, belongs to a man; but then evil belongs to evil and good to good, consequently they will each severally be friendly to their fellow, and the evil will be no less a friend to the evil than the good to the good; but both these positions have already been shewn to be erroneous, and so no positive solution of the question proposed is arrived at.

-----

Footnote 172:

§ 34-43.

-----

LYSIS,

ON FRIENDSHIP.

SOCRATES, HIPPOTHALES, CTESIPPUS, MENEXENUS, AND LYSIS.

-------

I was going from the Academy straight to the Lyceum on the road outside the wall close to the wall itself, but when I reached the little gate, where is the fountain of the Panops, I there met with Hippothales son of Hieronymus, Ctesippus the Pæanian, and other young men with them standing together in a group. And Hippothales seeing me approach said, “Socrates, whither are you going, and whence come you?”

“From the Academy,” I replied, “and am going straight to the Lyceum.”

“Hither, then,” said he, “straight to us. Won’t you come here? it is worth while.”

“Where do you mean,” said I, “and whom do you mean by ‘you’?”

“Hither,” he replied, shewing me an enclosure opposite the wall and an open gate, “there we are passing away our time, we and a good many other fine fellows.”

“And what is this, and what your occupation?”

“A palæstra,” he said, “lately built; our occupation consists chiefly in conversation, which we would gladly share with you.”