Part 97

“And I say so now,” he replied.

“Do not those then,” I said, “who are thus bold appear to be not courageous, but mad? And again, in the former instances, the wise are the boldest, and being the boldest, are most courageous? And according to this reasoning, will not wisdom be courage?”

99. “You do not rightly remember, Socrates,” said he, “what I said, and what answer I gave you? For when asked by you if the courageous were bold, I admitted that they were; but I was not asked, whether the bold also were courageous; for if you had asked me this, I should have said not all. But that the courageous are bold, which was my admission, you have no where shewn that I made that admission improperly. In the next place, you shew that men, who have skill, surpass themselves in boldness, and others who are unskilled, and from this, you conclude that courage and wisdom are the same. By proceeding in this way, you might also come to the conclusion that strength is wisdom. For, first of all, if proceeding thus you should ask me, whether the strong are powerful, I should say they are; and in the next place, whether those who are skilled in wrestling are more powerful than those who are unskilled, and they than themselves, after they have learnt, than before they learnt, I should say they are; 100. and on my admitting this, by using the same argument, you might allege, that according to my own admission, wisdom is strength; I however, do not here or any where admit that the powerful are strong, but I do that the strong are powerful, for power and strength are not the same; but the one arises from skill, and from madness too, and passion, but strength from nature, and good nurture of the body. In like manner, boldness and courage are not the same; so that it happens that the courageous are bold, but the bold are not all courageous. For boldness, like power, arises in men from skill, and from passion too and madness, but courage arises from nature, and the good culture of the soul.”

101. “Do you allow, Protagoras,” said I, “that some men live well, and others ill?”

He said he did.

“Does a man, then, appear to you to live well, if he lives in grief and pain?”

He said not.

“But what, if he should die after having passed his life pleasantly, would he not in that case appear to you to have lived well?”

“To me he would,” said he.

“To live pleasantly, then, is a good, but unpleasantly an evil thing.”

“Yes,” he said, “if he has lived taking pleasure in honest things.”

“What then, Protagoras, do you, like the multitude, call some pleasant things evil, and some painful things good? I mean, as far as they are pleasant are they not so far good, unless something else results from them? And again, in the same way with regard to things painful; are they not evil so far as they are painful?”

“I know not, Socrates,” he replied, “whether I should answer you as absolutely as you ask me, that pleasant things are all good, and painful things all evil; but it appears to me, not only with reference to the present answer, but also with reference to all the rest of my life, to be more safe to answer, that there are some pleasant things which are not good, and again, that there are some painful things which are not evil, and there are some which are a third sort, and which are neither the one nor the other, neither good or evil.”

102. “But do you not call those things pleasant,” I said, “which partake of pleasure, or occasion pleasure?”

“Certainly,” said he.

“I ask this, then, whether they are not good, so far as they are pleasant, meaning to ask whether pleasure itself is not a good thing.”

“As you frequently say, Socrates,” he replied, “we must examine this, and if the examination shall appear to be connected with our subject, and the same thing shall appear to be both pleasant and good, we must grant it; but if not, we must controvert it.”

“Whether, then,” said I, “do you wish to take the lead in the examination, or shall I?”

“You ought to take the lead,” he replied, “for you began the discussion.”

103. “Do you think, then,” said I, “that it will become clear to us in the following manner? just as if any one, examining a man from his form either with reference to his health, or any other operations of his body, on beholding his face and hands, should say, Come, strip, and shew me your breast and back, that I may examine you more closely; so I require something of the kind in reference to the present enquiry; perceiving that you are so affected as you say you are, with reference to the good and the pleasant, I have need to say some such thing as this, Come, Protagoras, lay your mind open to me on this point, how are you affected with respect to knowledge? Does it appear to you as it does to most men, or otherwise? Most men think of knowledge in some such way as this; that it is not a strong, nor a guiding, nor a governing thing; nor do they conceive of it as being any thing of the kind; but though knowledge is often found in a man, they do not think that knowledge governs him, but something else, at one time passion, at another pleasure, at another pain, sometimes love, and frequently fear, absolutely forming their conceptions of knowledge, as of a slave dragged about by all the rest. Is such your opinion of it, or do you think that knowledge is a noble thing, and able to govern man, and that if a man knows good and evil he can never be overcome by any thing, so as to do any thing else than what knowledge bids him, and that wisdom is sufficient to protect mankind?”

104. “It appears to me,” he replied, “as you say, Socrates: and moreover, if for any man, it would be disgraceful for me not to assert that wisdom and knowledge are the most powerful of all human things.”

“You say well and with truth,” I replied. “You are aware, however, that most men do not believe you and me, but say that many who know what is best are unwilling to do it, when it is in their power, but do other things. And all of whom I have asked what is the cause of this, have replied, that being overcome by pleasure, or mastered by pain, or some one of the things which I have just now mentioned, those who do these things are led to do them.”

“I think, Socrates,” he remarked, “that men say many other things incorrectly.”

“Come then, join me in endeavouring to persuade men, and to teach them what that affection of theirs is which they call being overcome by pleasures, and on that account not doing what is best, though they know it. For, perhaps, on our saying, ‘You do not speak correctly, my friends, but are deceived,’ they would ask us, ‘Protagoras and Socrates, if this affection is not the being overcome by pleasure, what is it then, and what do you say it is, tell us?’”

“But why, Socrates, need we consider the opinion of the generality of men, who say any thing that occurs to them?”

105. “I think,” said I, “that this will be of some service to us towards discovering with respect to courage how it is related to the other parts of virtue. If, therefore, you are willing to abide by what we just now agreed on, that I should take the lead, follow me where I think the matter will become exceedingly clear; but if you had rather not, I will dismiss it, if you please.”

“You say rightly,” he replied; “finish then, as you have begun.”

“Again, then,” said I, “if they were to ask us, ‘What do you say this is, which we call being overcome by pleasures?’ I, for my part, should answer them as follows: ‘Hear then, for Protagoras and I will endeavour to tell you. Do you not say, friends, that this happens to you under the following circumstances? for instance, being often mastered by meats and drinks, and the delights of love, which are pleasant things, though you know that they are baneful, yet do you not indulge in them?’ They would say that such is the case. 106. You and I should then ask them again, ‘In what respect do you say that they are baneful? Is it because they afford pleasure, and each of them is pleasant, for the moment? or because they occasion diseases for the future, and make way for poverty, and many other things of the kind? or if they make way for none of these things for the future, but only occasion a man to rejoice, are they nevertheless evil, because they make a man rejoice in any way whatever?’ Can we suppose, Protagoras, that they will give any other answer than that they are not evil from the momentary pleasure which they produce, but on account of the after results, diseases and other things?”