Gorgias
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POLUS: I agree.
SOCRATES: Then, as this is admitted, let me ask whether being punished is
suffering or acting?
POLUS: Suffering, Socrates; there can be no doubt of that.
SOCRATES: And suffering implies an agent?
POLUS: Certainly, Socrates; and he is the punisher.
SOCRATES: And he who punishes rightly, punishes justly?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And therefore he acts justly?
POLUS: Justly.
SOCRATES: Then he who is punished and suffers retribution, suffers justly?
POLUS: That is evident.
SOCRATES: And that which is just has been admitted to be honourable?
POLUS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Then the punisher does what is honourable, and the punished
suffers what is honourable?
POLUS: True.
SOCRATES: And if what is honourable, then what is good, for the honourable
is either pleasant or useful?
POLUS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Then he who is punished suffers what is good?
POLUS: That is true.
SOCRATES: Then he is benefited?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Do I understand you to mean what I mean by the term 'benefited'?
I mean, that if he be justly punished his soul is improved.
POLUS: Surely.
SOCRATES: Then he who is punished is delivered from the evil of his soul?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And is he not then delivered from the greatest evil? Look at
the matter in this way:--In respect of a man's estate, do you see any
greater evil than poverty?
POLUS: There is no greater evil.
SOCRATES: Again, in a man's bodily frame, you would say that the evil is
weakness and disease and deformity?
POLUS: I should.
SOCRATES: And do you not imagine that the soul likewise has some evil of
her own?
POLUS: Of course.
SOCRATES: And this you would call injustice and ignorance and cowardice,
and the like?
POLUS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: So then, in mind, body, and estate, which are three, you have
pointed out three corresponding evils--injustice, disease, poverty?
POLUS: True.
SOCRATES: And which of the evils is the most disgraceful?--Is not the most
disgraceful of them injustice, and in general the evil of the soul?
POLUS: By far the most.
SOCRATES: And if the most disgraceful, then also the worst?
POLUS: What do you mean, Socrates?
SOCRATES: I mean to say, that is most disgraceful has been already
admitted to be most painful or hurtful, or both.
POLUS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And now injustice and all evil in the soul has been admitted by
us to be most disgraceful?
POLUS: It has been admitted.
SOCRATES: And most disgraceful either because most painful and causing
excessive pain, or most hurtful, or both?
POLUS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And therefore to be unjust and intemperate, and cowardly and
ignorant, is more painful than to be poor and sick?
POLUS: Nay, Socrates; the painfulness does not appear to me to follow from
your premises.
SOCRATES: Then, if, as you would argue, not more painful, the evil of the
soul is of all evils the most disgraceful; and the excess of disgrace must
be caused by some preternatural greatness, or extraordinary hurtfulness of
the evil.
POLUS: Clearly.
SOCRATES: And that which exceeds most in hurtfulness will be the greatest
of evils?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then injustice and intemperance, and in general the depravity of
the soul, are the greatest of evils?
POLUS: That is evident.
SOCRATES: Now, what art is there which delivers us from poverty? Does not
the art of making money?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And what art frees us from disease? Does not the art of
medicine?
POLUS: Very true.
SOCRATES: And what from vice and injustice? If you are not able to answer
at once, ask yourself whither we go with the sick, and to whom we take
them.
POLUS: To the physicians, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And to whom do we go with the unjust and intemperate?
POLUS: To the judges, you mean.
SOCRATES: --Who are to punish them?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And do not those who rightly punish others, punish them in
accordance with a certain rule of justice?
POLUS: Clearly.
SOCRATES: Then the art of money-making frees a man from poverty; medicine
from disease; and justice from intemperance and injustice?
POLUS: That is evident.
SOCRATES: Which, then, is the best of these three?
POLUS: Will you enumerate them?
SOCRATES: Money-making, medicine, and justice.
POLUS: Justice, Socrates, far excels the two others.
SOCRATES: And justice, if the best, gives the greatest pleasure or
advantage or both?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: But is the being healed a pleasant thing, and are those who are
being healed pleased?
POLUS: I think not.
SOCRATES: A useful thing, then?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Yes, because the patient is delivered from a great evil; and
this is the advantage of enduring the pain--that you get well?
POLUS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And would he be the happier man in his bodily condition, who is
healed, or who never was out of health?
POLUS: Clearly he who was never out of health.
SOCRATES: Yes; for happiness surely does not consist in being delivered
from evils, but in never having had them.
POLUS: True.
SOCRATES: And suppose the case of two persons who have some evil in their
bodies, and that one of them is healed and delivered from evil, and another
is not healed, but retains the evil--which of them is the most miserable?
POLUS: Clearly he who is not healed.
SOCRATES: And was not punishment said by us to be a deliverance from the
greatest of evils, which is vice?
POLUS: True.
SOCRATES: And justice punishes us, and makes us more just, and is the
medicine of our vice?
POLUS: True.
SOCRATES: He, then, has the first place in the scale of happiness who has
never had vice in his soul; for this has been shown to be the greatest of
evils.
POLUS: Clearly.
SOCRATES: And he has the second place, who is delivered from vice?
POLUS: True.
SOCRATES: That is to say, he who receives admonition and rebuke and
punishment?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then he lives worst, who, having been unjust, has no deliverance
from injustice?
POLUS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: That is, he lives worst who commits the greatest crimes, and
who, being the most unjust of men, succeeds in escaping rebuke or
correction or punishment; and this, as you say, has been accomplished by
Archelaus and other tyrants and rhetoricians and potentates? (Compare
Republic.)
POLUS: True.
SOCRATES: May not their way of proceeding, my friend, be compared to the
conduct of a person who is afflicted with the worst of diseases and yet
contrives not to pay the penalty to the physician for his sins against his
constitution, and will not be cured, because, like a child, he is afraid of
the pain of being burned or cut:--Is not that a parallel case?
POLUS: Yes, truly.
SOCRATES: He would seem as if he did not know the nature of health and
bodily vigour; and if we are right, Polus, in our previous conclusions,
they are in a like case who strive to evade justice, which they see to be
painful, but are blind to the advantage which ensues from it, not knowing
how far more miserable a companion a diseased soul is than a diseased body;
a soul, I say, which is corrupt and unrighteous and unholy. And hence they
do all that they can to avoid punishment and to avoid being released from
the greatest of evils; they provide themselves with money and friends, and
cultivate to the utmost their powers of persuasion. But if we, Polus, are
right, do you see what follows, or shall we draw out the consequences in
form?
POLUS: If you please.
SOCRATES: Is it not a fact that injustice, and the doing of injustice, is
the greatest of evils?
POLUS: That is quite clear.
SOCRATES: And further, that to suffer punishment is the way to be released
from this evil?
POLUS: True.
SOCRATES: And not to suffer, is to perpetuate the evil?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: To do wrong, then, is second only in the scale of evils; but to
do wrong and not to be punished, is first and greatest of all?
POLUS: That is true.
SOCRATES: Well, and was not this the point in dispute, my friend? You
deemed Archelaus happy, because he was a very great criminal and
unpunished: I, on the other hand, maintained that he or any other who like
him has done wrong and has not been punished, is, and ought to be, the most
miserable of all men; and that the doer of injustice is more miserable than
the sufferer; and he who escapes punishment, more miserable than he who
suffers.--Was not that what I said?
POLUS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And it has been proved to be true?
POLUS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Well, Polus, but if this is true, where is the great use of
rhetoric? If we admit what has been just now said, every man ought in
every way to guard himself against doing wrong, for he will thereby suffer
great evil?
POLUS: True.
SOCRATES: And if he, or any one about whom he cares, does wrong, he ought
of his own accord to go where he will be immediately punished; he will run
to the judge, as he would to the physician, in order that the disease of
injustice may not be rendered chronic and become the incurable cancer of
the soul; must we not allow this consequence, Polus, if our former
admissions are to stand:--is any other inference consistent with them?
POLUS: To that, Socrates, there can be but one answer.
SOCRATES: Then rhetoric is of no use to us, Polus, in helping a man to
excuse his own injustice, that of his parents or friends, or children or
country; but may be of use to any one who holds that instead of excusing he
ought to accuse--himself above all, and in the next degree his family or
any of his friends who may be doing wrong; he should bring to light the
iniquity and not conceal it, that so the wrong-doer may suffer and be made
whole; and he should even force himself and others not to shrink, but with
closed eyes like brave men to let the physician operate with knife or
searing iron, not regarding the pain, in the hope of attaining the good and
the honourable; let him who has done things worthy of stripes, allow
himself to be scourged, if of bonds, to be bound, if of a fine, to be
fined, if of exile, to be exiled, if of death, to die, himself being the
first to accuse himself and his own relations, and using rhetoric to this
end, that his and their unjust actions may be made manifest, and that they
themselves may be delivered from injustice, which is the greatest evil.
Then, Polus, rhetoric would indeed be useful. Do you say 'Yes' or 'No' to
that?
POLUS: To me, Socrates, what you are saying appears very strange, though
probably in agreement with your premises.
SOCRATES: Is not this the conclusion, if the premises are not disproven?
POLUS: Yes; it certainly is.
SOCRATES: And from the opposite point of view, if indeed it be our duty to
harm another, whether an enemy or not--I except the case of self-defence--
then I have to be upon my guard--but if my enemy injures a third person,
then in every sort of way, by word as well as deed, I should try to prevent
his being punished, or appearing before the judge; and if he appears, I
should contrive that he should escape, and not suffer punishment: if he
has stolen a sum of money, let him keep what he has stolen and spend it on
him and his, regardless of religion and justice; and if he have done things
worthy of death, let him not die, but rather be immortal in his wickedness;
or, if this is not possible, let him at any rate be allowed to live as long
as he can. For such purposes, Polus, rhetoric may be useful, but is of
small if of any use to him who is not intending to commit injustice; at
least, there was no such use discovered by us in the previous discussion.
CALLICLES: Tell me, Chaerephon, is Socrates in earnest, or is he joking?
CHAEREPHON: I should say, Callicles, that he is in most profound earnest;
but you may well ask him.
CALLICLES: By the gods, and I will. Tell me, Socrates, are you in
earnest, or only in jest? For if you are in earnest, and what you say is
true, is not the whole of human life turned upside down; and are we not
doing, as would appear, in everything the opposite of what we ought to be
doing?
SOCRATES: O Callicles, if there were not some community of feelings among
mankind, however varying in different persons--I mean to say, if every
man's feelings were peculiar to himself and were not shared by the rest of
his species--I do not see how we could ever communicate our impressions to
one another. I make this remark because I perceive that you and I have a
common feeling. For we are lovers both, and both of us have two loves
apiece:--I am the lover of Alcibiades, the son of Cleinias, and of
philosophy; and you of the Athenian Demus, and of Demus the son of
Pyrilampes. Now, I observe that you, with all your cleverness, do not
venture to contradict your favourite in any word or opinion of his; but as
he changes you change, backwards and forwards. When the Athenian Demus
denies anything that you are saying in the assembly, you go over to his
opinion; and you do the same with Demus, the fair young son of Pyrilampes.
For you have not the power to resist the words and ideas of your loves; and
if a person were to express surprise at the strangeness of what you say
from time to time when under their influence, you would probably reply to
him, if you were honest, that you cannot help saying what your loves say
unless they are prevented; and that you can only be silent when they are.
Now you must understand that my words are an echo too, and therefore you
need not wonder at me; but if you want to silence me, silence philosophy,
who is my love, for she is always telling me what I am now telling you, my
friend; neither is she capricious like my other love, for the son of
Cleinias says one thing to-day and another thing to-morrow, but philosophy
is always true. She is the teacher at whose words you are now wondering,
and you have heard her yourself. Her you must refute, and either show, as
I was saying, that to do injustice and to escape punishment is not the
worst of all evils; or, if you leave her word unrefuted, by the dog the god
of Egypt, I declare, O Callicles, that Callicles will never be at one with
himself, but that his whole life will be a discord. And yet, my friend, I
would rather that my lyre should be inharmonious, and that there should be
no music in the chorus which I provided; aye, or that the whole world
should be at odds with me, and oppose me, rather than that I myself should
be at odds with myself, and contradict myself.
CALLICLES: O Socrates, you are a regular declaimer, and seem to be running
riot in the argument. And now you are declaiming in this way because Polus
has fallen into the same error himself of which he accused Gorgias:--for he
said that when Gorgias was asked by you, whether, if some one came to him
who wanted to learn rhetoric, and did not know justice, he would teach him
justice, Gorgias in his modesty replied that he would, because he thought
that mankind in general would be displeased if he answered 'No'; and then
in consequence of this admission, Gorgias was compelled to contradict
himself, that being just the sort of thing in which you delight. Whereupon
Polus laughed at you deservedly, as I think; but now he has himself fallen
into the same trap. I cannot say very much for his wit when he conceded to
you that to do is more dishonourable than to suffer injustice, for this was
the admission which led to his being entangled by you; and because he was
too modest to say what he thought, he had his mouth stopped. For the truth
is, Socrates, that you, who pretend to be engaged in the pursuit of truth,
are appealing now to the popular and vulgar notions of right, which are not
natural, but only conventional. Convention and nature are generally at
variance with one another: and hence, if a person is too modest to say
what he thinks, he is compelled to contradict himself; and you, in your
ingenuity perceiving the advantage to be thereby gained, slyly ask of him
who is arguing conventionally a question which is to be determined by the
rule of nature; and if he is talking of the rule of nature, you slip away
to custom: as, for instance, you did in this very discussion about doing
and suffering injustice. When Polus was speaking of the conventionally
dishonourable, you assailed him from the point of view of nature; for by
the rule of nature, to suffer injustice is the greater disgrace because the
greater evil; but conventionally, to do evil is the more disgraceful. For
the suffering of injustice is not the part of a man, but of a slave, who
indeed had better die than live; since when he is wronged and trampled
upon, he is unable to help himself, or any other about whom he cares. The
reason, as I conceive, is that the makers of laws are the majority who are
weak; and they make laws and distribute praises and censures with a view to
themselves and to their own interests; and they terrify the stronger sort
of men, and those who are able to get the better of them, in order that
they may not get the better of them; and they say, that dishonesty is
shameful and unjust; meaning, by the word injustice, the desire of a man to
have more than his neighbours; for knowing their own inferiority, I suspect
that they are too glad of equality. And therefore the endeavour to have
more than the many, is conventionally said to be shameful and unjust, and
is called injustice (compare Republic), whereas nature herself intimates
that it is just for the better to have more than the worse, the more
powerful than the weaker; and in many ways she shows, among men as well as
among animals, and indeed among whole cities and races, that justice
consists in the superior ruling over and having more than the inferior.
For on what principle of justice did Xerxes invade Hellas, or his father
the Scythians? (not to speak of numberless other examples). Nay, but these
are the men who act according to nature; yes, by Heaven, and according to
the law of nature: not, perhaps, according to that artificial law, which
we invent and impose upon our fellows, of whom we take the best and
strongest from their youth upwards, and tame them like young lions,--
charming them with the sound of the voice, and saying to them, that with
equality they must be content, and that the equal is the honourable and the
just. But if there were a man who had sufficient force, he would shake off
and break through, and escape from all this; he would trample under foot
all our formulas and spells and charms, and all our laws which are against
nature: the slave would rise in rebellion and be lord over us, and the
light of natural justice would shine forth. And this I take to be the
sentiment of Pindar, when he says in his poem, that
'Law is the king of all, of mortals as well as of immortals;'
this, as he says,
'Makes might to be right, doing violence with highest hand; as I infer from
the deeds of Heracles, for without buying them--' (Fragm. Incert. 151
(Bockh).)
--I do not remember the exact words, but the meaning is, that without
buying them, and without their being given to him, he carried off the oxen
of Geryon, according to the law of natural right, and that the oxen and
other possessions of the weaker and inferior properly belong to the
stronger and superior. And this is true, as you may ascertain, if you will
leave philosophy and go on to higher things: for philosophy, Socrates, if
pursued in moderation and at the proper age, is an elegant accomplishment,
but too much philosophy is the ruin of human life. Even if a man has good
parts, still, if he carries philosophy into later life, he is necessarily
ignorant of all those things which a gentleman and a person of honour ought
to know; he is inexperienced in the laws of the State, and in the language
which ought to be used in the dealings of man with man, whether private or
public, and utterly ignorant of the pleasures and desires of mankind and of
human character in general. And people of this sort, when they betake
themselves to politics or business, are as ridiculous as I imagine the
politicians to be, when they make their appearance in the arena of
philosophy. For, as Euripides says,
'Every man shines in that and pursues that, and devotes the greatest
portion of the day to that in which he most excels,' (Antiope, fragm. 20
(Dindorf).)
but anything in which he is inferior, he avoids and depreciates, and
praises the opposite from partiality to himself, and because he thinks that
he will thus praise himself. The true principle is to unite them.
Philosophy, as a part of education, is an excellent thing, and there is no
disgrace to a man while he is young in pursuing such a study; but when he
is more advanced in years, the thing becomes ridiculous, and I feel towards
philosophers as I do towards those who lisp and imitate children. For I
love to see a little child, who is not of an age to speak plainly, lisping
at his play; there is an appearance of grace and freedom in his utterance,
which is natural to his childish years. But when I hear some small
creature carefully articulating its words, I am offended; the sound is
disagreeable, and has to my ears the twang of slavery. So when I hear a
man lisping, or see him playing like a child, his behaviour appears to me
ridiculous and unmanly and worthy of stripes. And I have the same feeling
about students of philosophy; when I see a youth thus engaged,--the study
appears to me to be in character, and becoming a man of liberal education,
and him who neglects philosophy I regard as an inferior man, who will never
aspire to anything great or noble. But if I see him continuing the study
in later life, and not leaving off, I should like to beat him, Socrates;
for, as I was saying, such a one, even though he have good natural parts,
becomes effeminate. He flies from the busy centre and the market-place, in
which, as the poet says, men become distinguished; he creeps into a corner
for the rest of his life, and talks in a whisper with three or four
admiring youths, but never speaks out like a freeman in a satisfactory
manner. Now I, Socrates, am very well inclined towards you, and my feeling
may be compared with that of Zethus towards Amphion, in the play of
Euripides, whom I was mentioning just now: for I am disposed to say to you
much what Zethus said to his brother, that you, Socrates, are careless
about the things of which you ought to be careful; and that you
'Who have a soul so noble, are remarkable for a puerile exterior;
Neither in a court of justice could you state a case, or give any reason or
proof,
Or offer valiant counsel on another's behalf.'
And you must not be offended, my dear Socrates, for I am speaking out of
good-will towards you, if I ask whether you are not ashamed of being thus
defenceless; which I affirm to be the condition not of you only but of all
those who will carry the study of philosophy too far. For suppose that
some one were to take you, or any one of your sort, off to prison,
declaring that you had done wrong when you had done no wrong, you must
allow that you would not know what to do:--there you would stand giddy and
gaping, and not having a word to say; and when you went up before the
Court, even if the accuser were a poor creature and not good for much, you
would die if he were disposed to claim the penalty of death. And yet,
Socrates, what is the value of
'An art which converts a man of sense into a fool,'
who is helpless, and has no power to save either himself or others, when he
is in the greatest danger and is going to be despoiled by his enemies of
all his goods, and has to live, simply deprived of his rights of
citizenship?--he being a man who, if I may use the expression, may be boxed
on the ears with impunity. Then, my good friend, take my advice, and
refute no more:
'Learn the philosophy of business, and acquire the reputation of wisdom.
But leave to others these niceties,'
whether they are to be described as follies or absurdities:
'For they will only
Give you poverty for the inmate of your dwelling.'
Cease, then, emulating these paltry splitters of words, and emulate only
the man of substance and honour, who is well to do.
SOCRATES: If my soul, Callicles, were made of gold, should I not rejoice
to discover one of those stones with which they test gold, and the very
best possible one to which I might bring my soul; and if the stone and I
agreed in approving of her training, then I should know that I was in a
satisfactory state, and that no other test was needed by me.
CALLICLES: What is your meaning, Socrates?
SOCRATES: I will tell you; I think that I have found in you the desired
touchstone.
CALLICLES: Why?
SOCRATES: Because I am sure that if you agree with me in any of the
opinions which my soul forms, I have at last found the truth indeed. For I
consider that if a man is to make a complete trial of the good or evil of
the soul, he ought to have three qualities--knowledge, good-will,
outspokenness, which are all possessed by you. Many whom I meet are unable
to make trial of me, because they are not wise as you are; others are wise,
but they will not tell me the truth, because they have not the same
interest in me which you have; and these two strangers, Gorgias and Polus,
are undoubtedly wise men and my very good friends, but they are not
outspoken enough, and they are too modest. Why, their modesty is so great
that they are driven to contradict themselves, first one and then the other
of them, in the face of a large company, on matters of the highest moment.
But you have all the qualities in which these others are deficient, having
received an excellent education; to this many Athenians can testify. And
you are my friend. Shall I tell you why I think so? I know that you,
Callicles, and Tisander of Aphidnae, and Andron the son of Androtion, and
Nausicydes of the deme of Cholarges, studied together: there were four of
you, and I once heard you advising with one another as to the extent to
which the pursuit of philosophy should be carried, and, as I know, you came
to the conclusion that the study should not be pushed too much into detail.
You were cautioning one another not to be overwise; you were afraid that
too much wisdom might unconsciously to yourselves be the ruin of you. And
now when I hear you giving the same advice to me which you then gave to
your most intimate friends, I have a sufficient evidence of your real good-
will to me. And of the frankness of your nature and freedom from modesty I
am assured by yourself, and the assurance is confirmed by your last speech.
Well then, the inference in the present case clearly is, that if you agree
with me in an argument about any point, that point will have been
sufficiently tested by us, and will not require to be submitted to any
further test. For you could not have agreed with me, either from lack of
knowledge or from superfluity of modesty, nor yet from a desire to deceive
me, for you are my friend, as you tell me yourself. And therefore when you
and I are agreed, the result will be the attainment of perfect truth. Now
there is no nobler enquiry, Callicles, than that which you censure me for
making,--What ought the character of a man to be, and what his pursuits,
and how far is he to go, both in maturer years and in youth? For be
assured that if I err in my own conduct I do not err intentionally, but
from ignorance. Do not then desist from advising me, now that you have
begun, until I have learned clearly what this is which I am to practise,
and how I may acquire it. And if you find me assenting to your words, and
hereafter not doing that to which I assented, call me 'dolt,' and deem me
unworthy of receiving further instruction. Once more, then, tell me what
you and Pindar mean by natural justice: Do you not mean that the superior
should take the property of the inferior by force; that the better should
rule the worse, the noble have more than the mean? Am I not right in my
recollection?
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