Protagoras
of Protagoras: and this led Alcibiades, who loves opposition, to take
the other side. But we should not be partisans either of Socrates or of
Protagoras; let us rather unite in entreating both of them not to break
up the discussion.
Prodicus added: That, Critias, seems to me to be well said, for those
who are present at such discussions ought to be impartial hearers of
both the speakers; remembering, however, that impartiality is not the
same as equality, for both sides should be impartially heard, and yet
an equal meed should not be assigned to both of them; but to the wiser a
higher meed should be given, and a lower to the less wise. And I as well
as Critias would beg you, Protagoras and Socrates, to grant our request,
which is, that you will argue with one another and not wrangle; for
friends argue with friends out of good-will, but only adversaries and
enemies wrangle. And then our meeting will be delightful; for in this
way you, who are the speakers, will be most likely to win esteem, and
not praise only, among us who are your audience; for esteem is a sincere
conviction of the hearers' souls, but praise is often an insincere
expression of men uttering falsehoods contrary to their conviction.
And thus we who are the hearers will be gratified and not pleased; for
gratification is of the mind when receiving wisdom and knowledge, but
pleasure is of the body when eating or experiencing some other bodily
delight. Thus spoke Prodicus, and many of the company applauded his
words.
Hippias the sage spoke next. He said: All of you who are here present I
reckon to be kinsmen and friends and fellow-citizens, by nature and not
by law; for by nature like is akin to like, whereas law is the tyrant
of mankind, and often compels us to do many things which are against
nature. How great would be the disgrace then, if we, who know the nature
of things, and are the wisest of the Hellenes, and as such are met
together in this city, which is the metropolis of wisdom, and in the
greatest and most glorious house of this city, should have nothing to
show worthy of this height of dignity, but should only quarrel with
one another like the meanest of mankind! I do pray and advise you,
Protagoras, and you, Socrates, to agree upon a compromise. Let us be
your peacemakers. And do not you, Socrates, aim at this precise and
extreme brevity in discourse, if Protagoras objects, but loosen and let
go the reins of speech, that your words may be grander and more becoming
to you. Neither do you, Protagoras, go forth on the gale with every sail
set out of sight of land into an ocean of words, but let there be a mean
observed by both of you. Do as I say. And let me also persuade you to
choose an arbiter or overseer or president; he will keep watch over your
words and will prescribe their proper length.
This proposal was received by the company with universal approval;
Callias said that he would not let me off, and they begged me to choose
an arbiter. But I said that to choose an umpire of discourse would be
unseemly; for if the person chosen was inferior, then the inferior or
worse ought not to preside over the better; or if he was equal, neither
would that be well; for he who is our equal will do as we do, and what
will be the use of choosing him? And if you say, 'Let us have a better
then,'--to that I answer that you cannot have any one who is wiser than
Protagoras. And if you choose another who is not really better, and whom
you only say is better, to put another over him as though he were an
inferior person would be an unworthy reflection on him; not that, as far
as I am concerned, any reflection is of much consequence to me. Let
me tell you then what I will do in order that the conversation and
discussion may go on as you desire. If Protagoras is not disposed to
answer, let him ask and I will answer; and I will endeavour to show at
the same time how, as I maintain, he ought to answer: and when I have
answered as many questions as he likes to ask, let him in like manner
answer me; and if he seems to be not very ready at answering the precise
question asked of him, you and I will unite in entreating him, as you
entreated me, not to spoil the discussion. And this will require no
special arbiter--all of you shall be arbiters.
This was generally approved, and Protagoras, though very much against
his will, was obliged to agree that he would ask questions; and when he
had put a sufficient number of them, that he would answer in his turn
those which he was asked in short replies. He began to put his questions
as follows:--
I am of opinion, Socrates, he said, that skill in poetry is the
principal part of education; and this I conceive to be the power of
knowing what compositions of the poets are correct, and what are not,
and how they are to be distinguished, and of explaining when asked the
reason of the difference. And I propose to transfer the question which
you and I have been discussing to the domain of poetry; we will speak as
before of virtue, but in reference to a passage of a poet. Now Simonides
says to Scopas the son of Creon the Thessalian:
'Hardly on the one hand can a man become truly good, built four-square
in hands and feet and mind, a work without a flaw.'
Do you know the poem? or shall I repeat the whole?
There is no need, I said; for I am perfectly well acquainted with the
ode,--I have made a careful study of it.
Very well, he said. And do you think that the ode is a good composition,
and true?
Yes, I said, both good and true.
But if there is a contradiction, can the composition be good or true?
No, not in that case, I replied.
And is there not a contradiction? he asked. Reflect.
Well, my friend, I have reflected.
And does not the poet proceed to say, 'I do not agree with the word of
Pittacus, albeit the utterance of a wise man: Hardly can a man be good'?
Now you will observe that this is said by the same poet.
I know it.
And do you think, he said, that the two sayings are consistent?
Yes, I said, I think so (at the same time I could not help fearing that
there might be something in what he said). And you think otherwise?
Why, he said, how can he be consistent in both? First of all, premising
as his own thought, 'Hardly can a man become truly good'; and then a
little further on in the poem, forgetting, and blaming Pittacus and
refusing to agree with him, when he says, 'Hardly can a man be good,'
which is the very same thing. And yet when he blames him who says the
same with himself, he blames himself; so that he must be wrong either in
his first or his second assertion.
Many of the audience cheered and applauded this. And I felt at first
giddy and faint, as if I had received a blow from the hand of an expert
boxer, when I heard his words and the sound of the cheering; and to
confess the truth, I wanted to get time to think what the meaning of
the poet really was. So I turned to Prodicus and called him. Prodicus,
I said, Simonides is a countryman of yours, and you ought to come to his
aid. I must appeal to you, like the river Scamander in Homer, who, when
beleaguered by Achilles, summons the Simois to aid him, saying:
'Brother dear, let us both together stay the force of the hero (Il.).'
And I summon you, for I am afraid that Protagoras will make an end of
Simonides. Now is the time to rehabilitate Simonides, by the application
of your philosophy of synonyms, which enables you to distinguish 'will'
and 'wish,' and make other charming distinctions like those which you
drew just now. And I should like to know whether you would agree with
me; for I am of opinion that there is no contradiction in the words of
Simonides. And first of all I wish that you would say whether, in your
opinion, Prodicus, 'being' is the same as 'becoming.'
Not the same, certainly, replied Prodicus.
Did not Simonides first set forth, as his own view, that 'Hardly can a
man become truly good'?
Quite right, said Prodicus.
And then he blames Pittacus, not, as Protagoras imagines, for repeating
that which he says himself, but for saying something different from
himself. Pittacus does not say as Simonides says, that hardly can a man
become good, but hardly can a man be good: and our friend Prodicus would
maintain that being, Protagoras, is not the same as becoming; and if
they are not the same, then Simonides is not inconsistent with himself.
I dare say that Prodicus and many others would say, as Hesiod says,
'On the one hand, hardly can a man become good,
For the gods have made virtue the reward of toil,
But on the other hand, when you have climbed the height,
Then, to retain virtue, however difficult the acquisition, is easy
--(Works and Days).'
Prodicus heard and approved; but Protagoras said: Your correction,
Socrates, involves a greater error than is contained in the sentence
which you are correcting.
Alas! I said, Protagoras; then I am a sorry physician, and do but
aggravate a disorder which I am seeking to cure.
Such is the fact, he said.
How so? I asked.
The poet, he replied, could never have made such a mistake as to say
that virtue, which in the opinion of all men is the hardest of all
things, can be easily retained.
Well, I said, and how fortunate are we in having Prodicus among us, at
the right moment; for he has a wisdom, Protagoras, which, as I imagine,
is more than human and of very ancient date, and may be as old as
Simonides or even older. Learned as you are in many things, you appear
to know nothing of this; but I know, for I am a disciple of his.
And now, if I am not mistaken, you do not understand the word 'hard'
(chalepon) in the sense which Simonides intended; and I must correct
you, as Prodicus corrects me when I use the word 'awful' (deinon) as a
term of praise. If I say that Protagoras or any one else is an 'awfully'
wise man, he asks me if I am not ashamed of calling that which is good
'awful'; and then he explains to me that the term 'awful' is always
taken in a bad sense, and that no one speaks of being 'awfully' healthy
or wealthy, or of 'awful' peace, but of 'awful' disease, 'awful' war,
'awful' poverty, meaning by the term 'awful,' evil. And I think that
Simonides and his countrymen the Ceans, when they spoke of 'hard' meant
'evil,' or something which you do not understand. Let us ask Prodicus,
for he ought to be able to answer questions about the dialect of
Simonides. What did he mean, Prodicus, by the term 'hard'?
Evil, said Prodicus.
And therefore, I said, Prodicus, he blames Pittacus for saying, 'Hard is
the good,' just as if that were equivalent to saying, Evil is the good.
Yes, he said, that was certainly his meaning; and he is twitting
Pittacus with ignorance of the use of terms, which in a Lesbian, who has
been accustomed to speak a barbarous language, is natural.
Do you hear, Protagoras, I asked, what our friend Prodicus is saying?
And have you an answer for him?
You are entirely mistaken, Prodicus, said Protagoras; and I know very
well that Simonides in using the word 'hard' meant what all of us mean,
not evil, but that which is not easy--that which takes a great deal of
trouble: of this I am positive.
I said: I also incline to believe, Protagoras, that this was the meaning
of Simonides, of which our friend Prodicus was very well aware, but
he thought that he would make fun, and try if you could maintain your
thesis; for that Simonides could never have meant the other is clearly
proved by the context, in which he says that God only has this gift. Now
he cannot surely mean to say that to be good is evil, when he afterwards
proceeds to say that God only has this gift, and that this is the
attribute of him and of no other. For if this be his meaning, Prodicus