Part 94

67. After Alcibiades, it was Critias, I think, who said, “Prodicus and Hippias, Callias appears to me to be very much on the side of Protagoras; but Alcibiades is always fond of contention, to whatever he applies himself. We, however, ought not to contend with each other, either for Socrates or Protagoras, but we should join in requesting them both not to break up the conference in the middle.”

When he had spoken thus, Prodicus said, “You seem to me to say well, Critias: for it is right that those who are present at discussions of this kind should be common, but not equal hearers of both speakers. For it is not the same thing: for it is requisite to hear both in common, but not to give equal attention to each of them, but to the wiser more, and to the less learned less. 68. I too, Protagoras and Socrates, beg of you to make concessions to each other, and to argue with one another, but not to wrangle; for friends argue with friends out of good will, but adversaries and enemies wrangle with one another. And thus the conference will be most admirably conducted. For you, the speakers, will thus be highly approved, not praised, by us the hearers; for approbation is felt in the mind of the hearers, and is without deception; but praise is bestowed in words, by persons often who speak untruly, contrary to their real opinion; again, we, the hearers, shall thus be highly delighted, not pleased, for delight takes place when one learns something and acquires wisdom in one’s mind, but pleasure when one eats something, or experiences some other agreeable sensation in one’s body.”

-----

Footnote 100:

It will be observed that Prodicus’s method, of drawing nice distinctions between words nearly resembling each other in meaning, is here ridiculed.

-----

69. When Prodicus had thus spoken, many of those that were present approved of what he said. But after Prodicus, Hippias the wise spoke: “My friends who are here present,” said he, “I regard you all as kinsmen, relatives, and fellow-citizens by nature, though not by law; for like is by nature akin to like, but law being a tyrant over men, compels many things to be done contrary to nature. It were disgraceful, then, for us to know the nature of things, to be the wisest of the Greeks, and in this very character to have met together in the city of Greece, which is the very prytaneum of wisdom, and in the noblest and wealthiest house in this city, and then to exhibit nothing worthy of this high rank, but like the lowest of men to disagree with each other. 70. I therefore both entreat and advise you, Protagoras and Socrates, to come to terms under our authority, who as arbitrators will bring you to an agreement; and neither do you, Socrates, require that exact form of dialogue, which is so very concise, unless it is agreeable to Protagoras, but relax somewhat and give the reins to your discourse, that it may appear to us with more majesty and grace; nor on the other hand, do you, Protagoras, stretching every rope, and carrying all sail, scud to an ocean of words out of sight of land, but both of you keep a middle course. Do thus then, and be persuaded by me to choose a moderator, president, and prytanis, who will oblige you to keep within moderate bounds on either side.”

This pleased those that were present, and all approved, and Callias said that he would not let me go, and they urged me to choose a president. 71. I said therefore, “that it would be a shame to choose an umpire for our arguments; for if the person chosen should be our inferior, it would not be right that the inferior should preside over his superiors, nor if he should be equal, would this be right; for one that is equal will act the same as we do, so that the choice will be superfluous. But you will choose some one better than we are; in reality I think it impossible for you to choose any one wiser than Protagoras here: but if you should choose one in no respect superior, though you shall affirm that he is, this also will be a disgrace to him, to have a president chosen for him, as if he were a common person: for as to myself it makes no difference. I am willing, then, to act as follows, that our conference and conversation may continue, which you so earnestly desire: if Protagoras is not willing to answer, let him ask questions, and I will answer; and at the same time I will endeavour to shew him, how I say one who answers ought to answer. But when I have answered all the questions that he chooses to ask, let him in his turn, in like manner, reply to me. If, however, he should not appear disposed to answer the exact question put to him, both you and I will join in intreating of him, as you now do of me, not to destroy the conversation. And for this purpose there is no occasion for one president to be appointed, but you will all be presidents in common.”

72. It appeared to all that this was what ought to be done. And though Protagoras was not very willing to comply, yet he was compelled to consent to ask questions, and when he had asked enough in his turn to reply to my questions with brevity. He began therefore pretty nearly as follows:

“I think,” said he, “Socrates, that the most important part of a man’s education consists in being skilled in poetical composition; that is, to be able to understand what has been said by the poets, both what has been correctly composed and what incorrectly, and to know how to distinguish and to give a reason when asked about them. And now the question shall be on the very subject about which you and I have been conversing, virtue, but it shall be transferred to poetry. For Simonides somewhere says to Scopas, son of Creon the Thessalian, ‘That to become a good man is truly difficult, square as to his hands and feet and mind, fashioned without fault.’ Do you know the ode, or shall I repeat the whole to you?”

73. I said, “There is no necessity, for I know it, and have studied the ode with great attention.”

“You say well,” he then observed, “Whether, does it appear to you to have been composed beautifully and correctly or not?”

“Certainly,” said I, “both beautifully and correctly.”

“But does it appear to you to have been composed beautifully if the poet contradicts himself?”

“Not beautifully,” I replied.

“Consider it, then, more attentively,” said he.

“But my good friend, I have examined it sufficiently.”

“You know, then,” said he, “that in the course of the ode he says somewhere, ‘That saying of Pittacus does not please me, though uttered by a wise man, wherein he says, it is difficult to continue to be good.’ Do you observe, that the same person makes both this and the former remark?”

“I know it,” I replied.

“Does it appear to you then,” said he, “that the one agrees with the other?”

“It appears so to me.” And at the same time I was afraid lest there should be something in what he said. “But,” said I, “does not it appear so to you?”

“How can he who made both these assertions agree with himself, who first of all laid it down in his own person, that it is truly difficult to become a good man, and a little further on this person forgets himself and blames Pittacus for saying the same thing that he had said himself, ‘that it is difficult to be good,’ and asserts that he cannot approve of his saying the very same thing as himself. Surely in blaming a man who says the same things as himself, it is clear that he blames himself, so that in the former or the latter place he does not speak correctly.”

74. In saying this he elicited applause and praise from many of the hearers. And I, at first, as if I had been hit by a skilful boxer, was blinded, and made giddy, by his saying this, and by the applause of the others; but afterwards, to tell you the truth, that I might have time to consider what the poet meant, I turned to Prodicus, and calling out to him, said, “Prodicus, Simonides was your fellow-citizen; you are bound to assist the man. I seem then, to call upon you, in the same manner as Homer says Scamander, when assailed by Achilles, called upon Simois, saying, ‘Dear brother, let us unite to repel the prowess of this man.’ So I call upon you, let not Protagoras overthrow Simonides. For the defence of Simonides requires that exquisite skill of yours, by which you distinguish between to will and to desire, as not being the same, and by which you just now established many and beautiful distinctions. And now consider, whether your opinion agrees with mine: for Simonides does not appear to me to contradict himself. But do you, Prodicus, first declare your opinion. Does it appear to you that to become and to be are the same or different?”

-----

Footnote 101:

Iliad xxi. 308.

-----

“Different by Jupiter,” said Prodicus.