Gorgias
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?
CALLICLES: Yes; that is what I was saying, and so I still aver.
SOCRATES: And do you mean by the better the same as the superior? for I
could not make out what you were saying at the time—whether you meant
by the superior the stronger, and that the weaker must obey the
stronger, as you seemed to imply when you said that great cities attack
small ones in accordance with natural right, because they are superior
and stronger, as though the superior and stronger and better were the
same; or whether the better may be also the inferior and weaker, and
the superior the worse, or whether better is to be defined in the same
way as superior:—this is the point which I want to have cleared up. Are
the superior and better and stronger the same or different?
CALLICLES: I say unequivocally that they are the same.
SOCRATES: Then the many are by nature superior to the one, against
whom, as you were saying, they make the laws?
CALLICLES: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Then the laws of the many are the laws of the superior?
CALLICLES: Very true.
SOCRATES: Then they are the laws of the better; for the superior class
are far better, as you were saying?
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: And since they are superior, the laws which are made by them
are by nature good?
CALLICLES: Yes.
SOCRATES: And are not the many of opinion, as you were lately saying,
that justice is equality, and that to do is more disgraceful than to
suffer injustice?—is that so or not? Answer, Callicles, and let no
modesty be found to come in the way; do the many think, or do they not
think thus?—I must beg of you to answer, in order that if you agree
with me I may fortify myself by the assent of so competent an
authority.
CALLICLES: Yes; the opinion of the many is what you say.
SOCRATES: Then not only custom but nature also affirms that to do is
more disgraceful than to suffer injustice, and that justice is
equality; so that you seem to have been wrong in your former assertion,
when accusing me you said that nature and custom are opposed, and that
I, knowing this, was dishonestly playing between them, appealing to
custom when the argument is about nature, and to nature when the
argument is about custom?
CALLICLES: This man will never cease talking nonsense. At your age,
Socrates, are you not ashamed to be catching at words and chuckling
over some verbal slip? do you not see—have I not told you already, that
by superior I mean better: do you imagine me to say, that if a rabble
of slaves and nondescripts, who are of no use except perhaps for their
physical strength, get together, their ipsissima verba are laws?
SOCRATES: Ho! my philosopher, is that your line?
CALLICLES: Certainly.
SOCRATES: I was thinking, Callicles, that something of the kind must
have been in your mind, and that is why I repeated the question,—What
is the superior? I wanted to know clearly what you meant; for you
surely do not think that two men are better than one, or that your
slaves are better than you because they are stronger? Then please to
begin again, and tell me who the better are, if they are not the
stronger; and I will ask you, great Sir, to be a little milder in your
instructions, or I shall have to run away from you.
CALLICLES: You are ironical.
SOCRATES: No, by the hero Zethus, Callicles, by whose aid you were just
now saying many ironical things against me, I am not:—tell me, then,