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TheDialoguesofPlato

ProtagorasbyPlato

TranslatedbyBenjaminJowett

DialoguesofPlato

ColonialPress,NewYork,1899

INTRODUCTION

TheProtagoras,likeseveraloftheDialoguesofPlato,isputintothemouthofSocrates,who describes a conversation which had taken place between himself and the greatSophistatthehouseofCallias—‘themanwhohadspentmoreupontheSophiststhanalltherestoftheworld’—andinwhichthelearnedHippiasandthegrammarianProdicushadalso shared, aswell asAlcibiades andCritias, both ofwhom said a fewwords—in thepresenceofadistinguishedcompanyconsistingofdisciplesofProtagorasandofleadingAtheniansbelongingtotheSocraticcircle.ThedialoguecommenceswitharequestonthepartofHippocrates thatSocrateswould introducehim to thecelebrated teacher.Hehascomebeforethedawnhadrisen—sofervidishiszeal.Socratesmoderateshisexcitementandadviseshim to findout ‘whatProtagoraswillmakeofhim,’beforehebecomeshispupil.

TheygotogethertothehouseofCallias;andSocrates,afterexplainingthepurposeoftheirvisittoProtagoras,asksthequestion,‘WhathewillmakeofHippocrates.’Protagorasanswers, ‘That he will make him a better and a wiser man.’ ‘But in what will he bebetter?’—Socratesdesirestohaveamorepreciseanswer.Protagorasreplies,‘Thathewillteach him prudence in affairs private and public; in short, the science or knowledge ofhumanlife.’

This, as Socrates admits, is a noble profession; but he is or ratherwould have beendoubtful,whethersuchknowledgecanbetaught,ifProtagorashadnotassuredhimofthefact,fortworeasons:(1)BecausetheAthenianpeople,whorecognizeintheirassembliesthedistinctionbetweentheskilledandtheunskilledinthearts,donotdistinguishbetweenthetrainedpoliticianandtheuntrained;(2)BecausethewisestandbestAtheniancitizensdonotteachtheirsonspoliticalvirtue.WillProtagorasanswertheseobjections?

Protagorasexplainshisviews in theformofanapologue, inwhich,afterPrometheushadgivenmenthearts,ZeusisrepresentedassendingHermestothem,bearingwithhimJusticeandReverence.Thesearenot, like thearts, tobe imparted toafewonly,butallmenaretobepartakersofthem.ThereforetheAthenianpeoplearerightindistinguishingbetween the skilled and unskilled in the arts, and not between skilled and unskilledpoliticians.(1)Forallmenhavethepoliticalvirtuestoacertaindegree,andareobligedtosay that they have them, whether they have them or not. A man would be thought amadmanwhoprofessedanartwhichhedidnotknow;buthewouldbeequallythoughtamadmanifhedidnotprofessavirtuewhichhehadnot.(2)Andthatthepoliticalvirtuescanbetaughtandacquired,intheopinionoftheAthenians,isprovedbythefactthattheypunishevil-doers,withaviewtoprevention,ofcourse—mereretributionisforbeasts,andnot for men. (3) Again, would parents who teach her sons lesser matters leave themignorantofthecommondutyofcitizens?TothedoubtofSocratesthebestansweristhefact,thattheeducationofyouthinvirtuebeginsalmostassoonastheycanspeak,andiscontinuedbythestatewhentheypassoutoftheparentalcontrol.(4)Norneedwewonderthatwiseandgoodfatherssometimeshavefoolishandworthlesssons.Virtue,asweweresaying,isnottheprivatepossessionofanyman,butissharedbyall,onlyhowevertotheextentofwhicheach individual isbynaturecapable.And,asamatterof fact, even the

worst of civilized mankind will appear virtuous and just, if we compare them withsavages. (5)TheerrorofSocrates lies in supposing that thereareno teachersofvirtue,whereasallmenareteachersinadegree.Some,likeProtagoras,arebetterthanothers,andwiththisresultweoughttobesatisfied.

SocratesishighlydelightedwiththeexplanationofProtagoras.Buthehasstilladoubtlingering in hismind. Protagoras has spokenof the virtues: are theymany, or one? aretheypartsofawhole,ordifferentnamesof thesamething?Protagorasreplies that theyareparts,likethepartsofaface,whichhavetheirseveralfunctions,andnoonepartislikeanyotherpart.Thisadmission,whichhasbeensomewhathastilymade,isnowtakenupandcross-examinedbySocrates:—

‘Is justice just, and is holiness holy? And are justice and holiness opposed to oneanother?’—‘Then justice isunholy.’Protagoraswould rather say that justice isdifferentfromholiness,andyetinacertainpointofviewnearlythesame.Hedoesnot,however,escapeinthiswayfromthecunningofSocrates,whoinveigleshimintoanadmissionthateverythinghasbutoneopposite.Folly, forexample, isopposed towisdom;and folly isalso opposed to temperance; and therefore temperance and wisdom are the same. Andholinesshasbeenalreadyadmittedtobenearlythesameasjustice.Temperance,therefore,hasnowtobecomparedwithjustice.

Protagoras,whose temperbegins toget a little ruffledat theprocess towhichhehasbeensubjected, isaware thathewill soonbecompelledby thedialecticsofSocrates toadmit that the temperate is the just. He therefore defends himself with his favouriteweapon; that is to say,hemakesa long speechnotmuch to thepoint,whichelicits theapplauseoftheaudience.

Here occurs a sort of interlude, which commences with a declaration on the part ofSocrates that he cannot follow a long speech, and therefore hemust beg Protagoras tospeak shorter. As Protagoras declines to accommodate him, he rises to depart, but isdetainedbyCallias,who thinkshimunreasonable innotallowingProtagoras the libertywhichhetakeshimselfofspeakingashelikes.ButAlcibiadesanswersthatthetwocasesare not parallel. For Socrates admits his inability to speak long;will Protagoras in likemanneracknowledgehisinabilitytospeakshort?

CounselsofmoderationareurgedfirstinafewwordsbyCritias,andthenbyProdicusinbalancedandsententiouslanguage:andHippiasproposesanumpire.Butwhoistobethe umpire? rejoins Socrates; hewould rather suggest as a compromise that Protagorasshallaskandhewillanswer,andthatwhenProtagorasistiredofaskinghehimselfwillaskandProtagorasshallanswer.Tothisthelatteryieldsareluctantassent.

ProtagorasselectsashisthesisapoemofSimonidesofCeos,inwhichheprofessestofindacontradiction.Firstthepoetsays,

‘Hardisittobecomegood,’

andthenreproachesPittacusforhavingsaid,‘Hardisittobegood.’Howisthistobereconciled?Socrates,whoisfamiliarwiththepoem,isembarrassedatfirst,andinvokestheaidofProdicus,thecountrymanofSimonides,butapparentlyonlywiththeintentionofflatteringhimintoabsurdities.Firstadistinctionisdrawnbetween(Greek)tobe,and(Greek)tobecome:tobecomegoodisdifficult;tobegoodiseasy.Thentheworddifficult

orhard is explained tomean ‘evil’ in theCeandialect.Toall thisProdicusassents;butwhen Protagoras reclaims, Socrates slily withdraws Prodicus from the fray, under thepretence that his assent was only intended to test the wits of his adversary. He thenproceeds to give another and more elaborate explanation of the whole passage. Theexplanationisasfollows:—

The Lacedaemonians are great philosophers (although this is a fact which is notgenerallyknown);andthesouloftheirphilosophyisbrevity,whichwasalsothestyleofprimitiveantiquityandof the sevensages.NowPittacushada saying, ‘Hard is it tobegood:’andSimonides,whowas jealousof thefameof thissaying,wroteapoemwhichwasdesigned to controvert it.No, sayshe,Pittacus;not ‘hard tobegood,’but ‘hard tobecomegood.’Socratesproceeds toargue inahighly impressivemanner that thewholecomposition is intended as an attack upon Pittacus. This, though manifestly absurd, isaccepted by the company, and meets with the special approval of Hippias, who hashowever a favourite interpretation of his own, which he is requested by Alcibiades todefer.

Theargumentisnowresumed,notwithoutsomedisdainfulremarksofSocratesonthepracticeofintroducingthepoets,whooughtnottobeallowed,anymorethanflute-girls,tocomeintogoodsociety.Men’sownthoughtsshouldsupplythemwiththematerialsfordiscussion.AfewsoothingflatteriesareaddressedtoProtagorasbyCalliasandSocrates,and then theoldquestion is repeated, ‘Whether thevirtuesareoneormany?’TowhichProtagoras isnowdisposed to reply, that fouroutof thefivevirtuesare insomedegreesimilar;buthestillcontendsthatthefifth,courage,isunliketherest.Socratesproceedstounderminethelaststrongholdoftheadversary,firstobtainingfromhimtheadmissionthatallvirtueisinthehighestdegreegood:—

Thecourageousaretheconfident;andtheconfidentarethosewhoknowtheirbusinessorprofession:thosewhohavenosuchknowledgeandarestillconfidentaremadmen.Thisis admitted.Then, saysSocrates, courage isknowledge—an inferencewhichProtagorasevades by drawing a futile distinction between the courageous and the confident in afluentspeech.

Socratesrenewstheattackfromanotherside:hewouldliketoknowwhetherpleasureisnot the only good, and pain the only evil? Protagoras seems to doubt the morality orproprietyof assenting to this; hewould rather say that ‘somepleasures are good, somepainsareevil,’whichisalsotheopinionofthegeneralityofmankind.Whatdoeshethinkofknowledge?Doesheagreewith thecommonopinionthatknowledgeisovercomebypassion?ordoeshehold thatknowledge ispower?Protagorasagrees thatknowledge iscertainlyagoverningpower.

This,however,isnotthedoctrineofmeningeneral,whomaintainthatmanywhoknowwhat is best, act contrary to their knowledge under the influence of pleasure. But thisopposition of good and evil is really the opposition of a greater or lesser amount ofpleasure.Pleasuresareevilsbecausetheyendinpain,andpainsaregoodsbecausetheyend in pleasures. Thus pleasure is seen to be the only good; and the only evil is thepreferenceofthelesserpleasuretothegreater.Butthencomesintheillusionofdistance.Someartofmensurationisrequiredinordertoshowuspleasuresandpainsintheirtrueproportion.Thisartofmensurationisakindofknowledge,andknowledgeisthusproved

oncemoretobethegoverningprincipleofhumanlife,andignorancetheoriginofallevil:fornooneprefers the lesspleasure to thegreater,or thegreaterpain to the less,exceptfromignorance.Theargumentisdrawnoutinanimaginary‘dialoguewithinadialogue,’conductedbySocrates andProtagorason theonepart, and the rest of theworldon theother.HippiasandProdicus,aswellasProtagoras,admitthesoundnessoftheconclusion.

Socratesthenappliesthisnewconclusiontothecaseofcourage—theonlyvirtuewhichstill holds out against the assaults of the Socratic dialectic.No one chooses the evil orrefuses the good except through ignorance. This explainswhy cowards refuse to go towar:—becausetheyformawrongestimateofgood,andhonour,andpleasure.Andwhyarethecourageouswillingtogotowar?—becausetheyformarightestimateofpleasuresandpains,ofthingsterribleandnotterrible.Couragethenisknowledge,andcowardiceisignorance.And the fivevirtues,whichwereoriginallymaintained tohave fivedifferentnatures,afterhavingbeeneasilyreducedtotwoonly,atlastcoalesceinone.TheassentofProtagorastothislastpositionisextractedwithgreatdifficulty.

Socratesconcludesbyprofessinghisdisinterestedloveofthetruth,andremarksonthesingularmanner inwhichheandhis adversaryhadchanged sides.Protagorasbeganbyasserting,andSocratesbydenying,theteachablenessofvirtue,andnowthelatterendsbyaffirming that virtue is knowledge, which is the most teachable of all things, whileProtagoras has been striving to show that virtue is not knowledge, and this is almostequivalent tosaying thatvirtuecannotbe taught.He isnotsatisfiedwith theresult,andwouldliketorenewtheenquirywiththehelpofProtagorasinadifferentorder,asking(1)Whatvirtue is, and (2)Whethervirtuecanbe taught.Protagorasdeclines thisoffer,butcommendsSocrates’earnestnessandhisstyleofdiscussion.

TheProtagoras isoftensupposed tobefullofdifficulties.Thesearepartly imaginaryandpartly real.The imaginary ones are (1)Chronological,—whichwere pointed out inancient timesbyAthenaeus,andarenoticedbySchleiermacherandothers,andrelatetotheimpossibilityofallthepersonsintheDialoguemeetingatanyonetime,whetherintheyear 425 B.C., or in any other. But Plato, like all writers of fiction, aims only at theprobable,andshowsinmanyDialogues(e.g.theSymposiumandRepublic,andalreadyintheLaches)anextremedisregardofthehistoricalaccuracywhichissometimesdemandedof him. (2) The exact place of the Protagoras among the Dialogues, and the date ofcomposition,havealsobeenmuchdisputed.Buttherearenocriteriawhichaffordanyrealgroundsfordeterminingthedateofcomposition;andtheaffinitiesoftheDialogues,whentheyarenotindicatedbyPlatohimself,mustalwaystoagreatextentremainuncertain.(3)There isanotherclassofdifficulties,whichmaybeascribed topreconceivednotionsofcommentators,whoimaginethatProtagorastheSophistoughtalwaystobeinthewrong,and his adversary Socrates in the right; or that in this or that passage—e.g. in theexplanationofgoodaspleasure—Platoisinconsistentwithhimself;orthattheDialoguefailsinunity,andhasnotaproperbeginning,middle,andending.TheyseemtoforgetthatPlato isadramaticwriterwho throwshis thoughts intobothsidesof theargument, andcertainlydoesnotaimatanyunitywhichisinconsistentwithfreedom,andwithanaturalorevenwildmanneroftreatinghissubject;alsothathismodeofrevealingthetruthisbylights and shadows, and far-off and opposing points of view, and not by dogmaticstatementsordefiniteresults.

The realdifficulties ariseoutof theextremesubtletyof thework,which, asSocratessaysofthepoemofSimonides,isamostperfectpieceofart.Therearedramaticcontrastsandinterests,threadsofphilosophybrokenandresumed,satiricalreflectionsonmankind,veils thrownover truthswhichare lightly suggested, andallwoven together ina singledesign,andmovingtowardsoneend.

IntheintroductoryscenePlatoraisestheexpectationthata‘greatpersonage’isabouttoappear on the stage; perhaps with a further view of showing that he is destined to beoverthrownbyagreaterstill,whomakesnopretensions.BeforeintroducingHippocratesto him, Socrates thinks proper towarn the youth against the dangers of ‘influence,’ ofwhich the invidious nature is recognized by Protagoras himself. Hippocrates readilyadopts the suggestion of Socrates that he shall learn of Protagoras only theaccomplishmentswhichbefitanAtheniangentleman,andletalonehis‘sophistry.’ThereisnothinghoweverintheintroductionwhichleadstotheinferencethatPlatointendedtoblackenthecharacteroftheSophists;heonlymakesalittlemerryattheirexpense.

The‘greatpersonage’issomewhatostentatious,butfrankandhonest.Heisintroducedon a stage which is worthy of him—at the house of the rich Callias, in which arecongregatedthenoblestandwisestoftheAthenians.Heconsidersopennesstobethebestpolicy,andparticularlymentionshisownliberalmodeofdealingwithhispupils,asifinanswertothefavouriteaccusationoftheSophiststhattheyreceivedpay.Heisremarkablefor the good temper which he exhibits throughout the discussion under the trying andoften sophistical cross-examination of Socrates. Although once or twice ruffled, andreluctant to continue the discussion, he parts company on perfectly good terms, andappearstobe,ashesaysofhimself,the‘leastjealousofmankind.’

Nor is there anything in the sentiments of Protagoras which impairs this pleasingimpression of the grave and weighty old man. His real defect is that he is inferior toSocrates indialectics.TheoppositionbetweenhimandSocrates isnot theoppositionofgood and bad, true and false, but of the old art of rhetoric and the new science ofinterrogation and argument; also of the irony of Socrates and the self-assertion of theSophists.There is quite asmuch truthon the sideofProtagoras as ofSocrates; but thetruthofProtagorasisbasedoncommonsenseandcommonmaximsofmorality,whilethatof Socrates is paradoxical or transcendental, and though full of meaning and insight,hardlyintelligibletotherestofmankind.Hereaselsewhereistheusualcontrastbetweenthe Sophists representing average public opinion and Socrates seeking for increasedclearnessandunityofideas.ButtoagreatextentProtagorashasthebestoftheargumentandrepresentsthebettermindofman.

For example: (1) one of the noblest statements to be found in antiquity about thepreventive nature of punishment is put into his mouth; (2) he is clearly right also inmaintainingthatvirtuecanbetaught(whichSocrateshimself,attheendoftheDialogue,is disposed to concede); and also (3) in his explanation of the phenomenon that goodfathershavebadsons;(4)heisrightalsoinobservingthatthevirtuesarenotlikethearts,giftsorattainmentsofspecialindividuals,butthecommonpropertyofall:this,whichinall ages has been the strength and weakness of ethics and politics, is deeply seated inhuman nature; (5) there is a sort of half-truth in the notion that all civilized men areteachersofvirtue;andmorethanahalf-truth(6)inascribingtoman,whoinhisoutward

conditionsismorehelplessthantheotheranimals,thepowerofself-improvement;(7)thereligiousallegoryshouldbenoticed,inwhichtheartsaresaidtobegivenbyPrometheus(who stole them),whereas justice and reverence and the political virtues could only beimparted by Zeus; (8) in the latter part of theDialogue,when Socrates is arguing that‘pleasureistheonlygood,’Protagorasdeemsitmoreinaccordancewithhischaractertomaintainthat‘somepleasuresonlyaregood;’andadmitsthat‘he,aboveallothermen,isboundtosay“thatwisdomandknowledgearethehighestofhumanthings.”’

ThereisnoreasontosupposethatinallthisPlatoisdepictinganimaginaryProtagoras;he seems to be showing us the teaching of the Sophists under themilder aspect underwhichheonceregardedthem.NoristhereanyreasontodoubtthatSocratesisequallyanhistoricalcharacter,paradoxical,ironical,tiresome,butseekingfortheunityofvirtueandknowledgeasforaprecioustreasure;willingtorestthisevenonacalculationofpleasure,andirresistiblehere,aseverywhereinPlato,inhisintellectualsuperiority.

The aim of Socrates, and of the Dialogue, is to show the unity of virtue. In thedetermination of this question the identity of virtue and knowledge is found to beinvolved.But ifvirtueandknowledgeareone, thenvirtuecanbe taught; theendof theDialogue returns to the beginning. Had Protagoras been allowed by Plato to make theAristotelian distinction, and say that virtue is not knowledge, but is accompanied withknowledge;ortopointoutwithAristotlethat thesamequalitymayhavemorethanoneopposite;orwithPlatohimselfinthePhaedotodenythatgoodisamereexchangeofagreaterpleasure fora less—theunityofvirtueand the identityofvirtueandknowledgewouldhaverequiredtobeprovedbyotherarguments.

ThevictoryofSocratesoverProtagorasisineverywaycompletewhentheirmindsarefairly brought together. Protagoras falls before him after two or three blows. Socratespartiallygainshisobject in thefirstpartof theDialogue,andcompletely in thesecond.Nordoesheappearatanydisadvantagewhensubjected to‘thequestion’byProtagoras.Hesucceedsinmakinghistwo‘friends,’ProdicusandHippias,ludicrousbytheway;healsomakesa longspeech indefenceof thepoemofSimonides,after themannerof theSophists,showing,asAlcibiadessays, thatheisonlypretendingtohaveabadmemory,andthatheandnotProtagorasisreallyamasterinthetwostylesofspeaking;andthathecan undertake, not one side of the argument only, but both,when Protagoras begins tobreak down. Against the authority of the poets with whom Protagoras has ingeniouslyidentifiedhimselfat thecommencementoftheDialogue,SocratessetsuptheproverbialphilosophersandthosemastersofbrevitytheLacedaemonians.Thepoets,theLaconizers,andProtagorasaresatirizedatthesametime.

Nothavingthewholeofthispoembeforeus,itisimpossibleforustoanswercertainlythequestionofProtagoras,howthetwopassagesofSimonidesaretobereconciled.Wecan only follow the indications given by Plato himself. But it seems likely that thereconcilementofferedbySocrates isacaricatureof themethodsof interpretationwhichwerepractisedbytheSophists—forthefollowingreasons:(1)Thetransparentironyoftheprevious interpretations given by Socrates. (2) The ludicrous opening of the speech inwhichtheLacedaemoniansaredescribedasthetruephilosophers,andLaconicbrevityasthe trueformofphilosophy,evidentlywithanallusion toProtagoras’ longspeeches. (3)The manifest futility and absurdity of the explanation of (Greek), which is hardly

consistent with the rational interpretation of the rest of the poem. The opposition of(Greek) and (Greek) seems also intended to express the rival doctrines of Socrates andProtagoras,andisafacetiouscommentaryontheirdifferences.(4)Thegeneraltreatmentin Plato both of the Poets and the Sophists, who are their interpreters, and whom hedelightstoidentifywiththem.(5)ThedepreciatingspiritinwhichSocratesspeaksoftheintroduction of the poets as a substitute for original conversation,which is intended tocontrastwithProtagoras’exaltationofthestudyofthem—thisagainishardlyconsistentwith the serious defence of Simonides. (6) the marked approval of Hippias, who issupposedatoncetocatchthefamiliarsound,justasinthepreviousconversationProdicusisrepresentedasreadytoacceptanydistinctionsoflanguagehoweverabsurd.AtthesametimeHippias isdesirousof substitutinganew interpretationofhisown;as if thewordsmightreallybemadetomeananything,andwereonlytoberegardedasaffordingafieldfortheingenuityoftheinterpreter.

This curiouspassage is, therefore, to be regarded asPlato’s satire on the tedious andhypercriticalartsofinterpretationwhichprevailedinhisownday,andmaybecomparedwithhiscondemnationofthesameartswhenappliedtomythologyinthePhaedrus,andwith his other parodies, e.g. with the two first speeches in the Phaedrus and with theMenexenus. Several lesser touches of satire may be observed, such as the claim ofphilosophyadvancedfortheLacedaemonians,whichisaparodyoftheclaimsadvancedfor the Poets by Protagoras; the mistake of the Laconizing set in supposing that theLacedaemoniansareagreatnationbecausetheybruisetheirears;thefar-fetchednotion,whichis‘reallytoobad,’thatSimonidesusestheLesbian(?)word,(Greek),becauseheisaddressing aLesbian.Thewholemay also be considered as a satire on thosewho spinpompous theories out of nothing. As in the arguments of the Euthydemus and of theCratylus,theveilofironyisneverwithdrawn;andweareleftindoubtatlasthowfarinthisinterpretationofSimonidesSocratesis‘fooling,’howfarheisinearnest.

AlltheinterestsandcontrastsofcharacterinagreatdramaticworkliketheProtagorasarenoteasilyexhausted.Theimpressivenessofthesceneshouldnotbelostuponus,orthe gradual substitution of Socrates in the second part for Protagoras in the first. Thecharacters towhomwe are introduced at the beginning of theDialogue all play a partmoreorlessconspicuoustowardstheend.ThereisAlcibiades,whoiscompelledbythenecessityofhisnaturetobeapartisan, lendingeffectualaidtoSocrates; thereisCritiasassuming the tone of impartiality;Callias, here as always inclining to the Sophists, buteager for any intellectual repast; Prodicus, who finds an opportunity for displaying hisdistinctionsoflanguage,whicharevaluelessandpedantic,becausetheyarenotbasedondialectic; Hippias, who has previously exhibited his superficial knowledge of naturalphilosophy, to which, as in both the Dialogues called by his name, he now adds theprofession of an interpreter of the Poets. The two latter personages have been alreadydamagedbythemockheroicdescriptionofthemintheintroduction.Itmayberemarkedthat Protagoras is consistently presented to us throughout as the teacher of moral andpoliticalvirtue;thereisnoallusiontothetheoriesofsensationwhichareattributedtohimin theTheaetetusandelsewhere,or tohisdenialof theexistenceof thegods inawell-knownfragmentascribedtohim;heisthereligiousratherthantheirreligiousteacherinthisDialogue.Also itmay be observed that Socrates shows him asmuch respect as isconsistent with his own ironical character; he admits that the dialectic which has

overthrown Protagoras has carried himself round to a conclusion opposed to his firstthesis.Theforceofargument,therefore,andnotSocratesorProtagoras,haswontheday.

But is Socrates serious in maintaining (1) that virtue cannot be taught; (2) that thevirtuesareone;(3)thatvirtueistheknowledgeofpleasuresandpainspresentandfuture?These propositions to us have an appearance of paradox—they are really moments oraspectsofthetruthbythehelpofwhichwepassfromtheoldconventionalmoralitytoahigherconceptionofvirtueandknowledge.ThatvirtuecannotbetaughtisaparadoxofthesamesortastheprofessionofSocratesthatheknewnothing.Platomeanstosaythatvirtue isnotbrought to aman,butmustbedrawnoutofhim;andcannotbe taughtbyrhetoricaldiscoursesorcitationsfromthepoets.Thesecondquestion,whetherthevirtuesareoneormany,thoughatfirstsightdistinct,isreallyapartofthesamesubject;forifthevirtuesaretobetaught,theymustbereducibletoacommonprinciple;andthiscommonprincipleisfoundtobeknowledge.Here,asAristotleremarks,SocratesandPlatooutstepthetruth—theymakeapartofvirtueintothewhole.Further,thenatureofthisknowledge,whichisassumedtobeaknowledgeofpleasuresandpains,appearstoustoosuperficialandatvariancewith the spirit ofPlatohimself.Yet, in this,Plato isonly following thehistoricalSocratesasheisdepictedtousinXenophon’sMemorabilia.LikeSocrates,hefindsonthesurfaceofhumanlifeonecommonbondbywhichthevirtuesareunited,—theirtendencytoproducehappiness,—thoughsuchaprincipleisafterwardsrepudiatedbyhim.

ItremainstobeconsideredinwhatrelationtheProtagorasstandstotheotherDialoguesofPlato.That it isoneof theearlierorpurelySocraticworks—perhaps the last,as it iscertainlythegreatestofthem—isindicatedbytheabsenceofanyallusiontothedoctrineof reminiscence; and also by the different attitude assumed towards the teaching andpersonsoftheSophistsinsomeofthelaterDialogues.TheCharmides,Laches,Lysis,alltouchonthequestionoftherelationofknowledgetovirtue,andmayberegarded,ifnotaspreliminary studies or sketches of the more important work, at any rate as closelyconnectedwith it.TheIoand the lesserHippiascontaindiscussionsof thePoets,whichofferaparalleltotheironicalcriticismofSimonides,andareconceivedinasimilarspirit.TheaffinityoftheProtagorastotheMenoismoredoubtful.Forthere,althoughthesamequestion is discussed, ‘whether virtue can be taught,’ and the relation of Meno to theSophistsismuchthesameasthatofHippocrates, theanswertothequestionissuppliedoutofthedoctrineofideas;therealSocratesisalreadypassingintothePlatonicone.AtalaterstageofthePlatonicphilosophyweshallfindthatboththeparadoxandthesolutionofitappeartohavebeenretracted.ThePhaedo,theGorgias,andthePhilebusofferfurthercorrections of the teaching of the Protagoras; in all of them the doctrine that virtue ispleasure,orthatpleasureisthechieforonlygood,isdistinctlyrenounced.

Thusaftermanypreparationsandoppositions,bothofthecharactersofmenandaspectsof the truth, especially of the popular and philosophical aspect; and after manyinterruptionsanddetentionsbytheway,which,asTheodorussaysintheTheaetetus,arequite as agreeable as the argument, we arrive at the great Socratic thesis that virtue isknowledge.Thisisanaspectofthetruthwhichwaslostalmostassoonasitwasfound;and yet has to be recovered by every one for himself who would pass the limits ofproverbial and popular philosophy. Themoral and intellectual are always dividing, yettheymustbereunited,andinthehighestconceptionofthemareinseparable.Thethesisof

Socrates is notmerely a hasty assumption, butmay be also deemed an anticipation ofsome ‘metaphysic of the future,’ in which the divided elements of human nature arereconciled.

PROTAGORAS

PERSONSOFTHEDIALOGUE:Socrates,whoisthenarratoroftheDialoguetohisCompanion.Hippocrates,AlcibiadesandCritias.Protagoras,HippiasandProdicus

(Sophists).Callias,awealthyAthenian.

SCENE:TheHouseofCallias.

COMPANION:Where do you come from, Socrates? And yet I need hardly ask thequestion,forIknowthatyouhavebeeninchaseofthefairAlcibiades.Isawhimthedaybeforeyesterday;andhehadgotabeardlikeaman,—andheisaman,asImaytellyouinyourear.ButIthoughtthathewasstillverycharming.

SOCRATES:Whatofhisbeard?AreyounotofHomer’sopinion,whosays‘Youthismostcharmingwhenthebeardfirstappears’?

AndthatisnowthecharmofAlcibiades.

COMPANION:Well, andhowdomatters proceed?Haveyoubeenvisitinghim, andwashegracioustoyou?

SOCRATES:Yes,Ithoughtthathewasverygracious;andespeciallyto-day,forIhavejust come fromhim,andhehasbeenhelpingme inanargument.But shall I tellyouastrange thing? I paid no attention to him, and several times I quite forgot that he waspresent.

COMPANION:Whatisthemeaningofthis?Hasanythinghappenedbetweenyouandhim?Forsurelyyoucannothavediscoveredafairerlovethanheis;certainlynotinthiscityofAthens.

SOCRATES:Yes,muchfairer.

COMPANION:Whatdoyoumean—acitizenoraforeigner?

SOCRATES:Aforeigner.

COMPANION:Ofwhatcountry?

SOCRATES:OfAbdera.

COMPANION:AndisthisstrangerreallyinyouropinionafairerlovethanthesonofCleinias?

SOCRATES:Andisnotthewiseralwaysthefairer,sweetfriend?

COMPANION:Buthaveyoureallymet,Socrates,withsomewiseone?

SOCRATES:Sayrather,withthewisestofalllivingmen,ifyouarewillingtoaccordthattitletoProtagoras.

COMPANION:What!IsProtagorasinAthens?

SOCRATES:Yes;hehasbeenheretwodays.

COMPANION:Anddoyoujustcomefromaninterviewwithhim?

SOCRATES:Yes;andIhaveheardandsaidmanythings.

COMPANION:Then, ifyouhavenoengagement, suppose thatyousitdownand tellmewhatpassed,andmyattendanthereshallgiveuphisplacetoyou.

SOCRATES:Tobesure;andIshallbegratefultoyouforlistening.

COMPANION:Thankyou,too,fortellingus.

SOCRATES:Thatisthankyoutwiceover.Listenthen:—

Lastnight,orratherveryearlythismorning,Hippocrates,thesonofApollodorusandthe brother of Phason, gave a tremendous thump with his staff at my door; some oneopenedtohim,andhecamerushinginandbawledout:Socrates,areyouawakeorasleep?

Iknewhisvoice,andsaid:Hippocrates,isthatyou?anddoyoubringanynews?

Goodnews,hesaid;nothingbutgood.

Delightful,Isaid;butwhatisthenews?andwhyhaveyoucomehitheratthisunearthlyhour?

Hedrewnearertomeandsaid:Protagorasiscome.

Yes,Ireplied;hecametwodaysago:haveyouonlyjustheardofhisarrival?

Yes,bythegods,hesaid;butnotuntilyesterdayevening.

Atthesametimehefeltforthetruckle-bed,andsatdownatmyfeet,andthenhesaid:Yesterdayquitelateintheevening,onmyreturnfromOenoewhitherIhadgoneinpursuitofmyrunawayslaveSatyrus,asImeant tohavetoldyou, ifsomeothermatterhadnotcome in theway;—onmyreturn,whenwehaddonesupperandwereabout to retire torest,mybrother said tome:Protagoras iscome. Iwasgoing toyouatonce,and then Ithoughtthatthenightwasfarspent.Butthemomentsleepleftmeaftermyfatigue,Igotupandcamehitherdirect.

I,whoknew theverycourageousmadnessof theman, said:What is thematter?HasProtagorasrobbedyouofanything?

Hereplied,laughing:Yes,indeedhehas,Socrates,ofthewisdomwhichhekeepsfromme.

But,surely,Isaid,ifyougivehimmoney,andmakefriendswithhim,hewillmakeyouaswiseasheishimself.

Wouldtoheaven,hereplied,thatthiswerethecase!HemighttakeallthatIhave,andallthatmyfriendshave,ifhepleased.ButthatiswhyIhavecometoyounow,inorderthatyoumayspeaktohimonmybehalf;forIamyoung,andalsoIhaveneverseennorheard him; (when he visitedAthens before Iwas but a child;) and allmen praise him,Socrates;heisreputedtobethemostaccomplishedofspeakers.Thereisnoreasonwhyweshouldnotgotohimatonce,andthenweshallfindhimathome.Helodges,asIhear,withCalliasthesonofHipponicus:letusstart.

Ireplied:Notyet,mygoodfriend;thehouristooearly.Butletusriseandtakeaturninthecourtandwaitaboutthereuntilday-break;whenthedaybreaks,thenwewillgo.ForProtagorasisgenerallyathome,andweshallbesuretofindhim;neverfear.

Upon thiswegotupandwalkedabout in thecourt,and I thought that Iwouldmaketrialofthestrengthofhisresolution.SoIexaminedhimandputquestionstohim.Tellme,Hippocrates,Isaid,asyouaregoingtoProtagoras,andwillbepayingyourmoneytohim,whatishetowhomyouaregoing?andwhatwillhemakeofyou?If,forexample,youhad thoughtofgoing toHippocratesofCos, theAsclepiad,andwereabout togivehimyourmoney, and some one had said to you: You are payingmoney to your namesakeHippocrates,OHippocrates;tellme,whatishethatyougivehimmoney?howwouldyouhaveanswered?

Ishouldsay,hereplied,thatIgavemoneytohimasaphysician.

Andwhatwillhemakeofyou?

Aphysician,hesaid.

AndifyouwereresolvedtogotoPolycleitustheArgive,orPheidiastheAthenian,andwere intending togive themmoney,andsomeonehadaskedyou:WhatarePolycleitusandPheidias?andwhydoyougivethemthismoney?—howwouldyouhaveanswered?

Ishouldhaveanswered,thattheywerestatuaries.

Andwhatwilltheymakeofyou?

Astatuary,ofcourse.

Wellnow,Isaid,youandIaregoingtoProtagoras,andwearereadytopayhimmoneyonyourbehalf.Ifourownmeansaresufficient,andwecangainhimwiththese,weshallbeonlytooglad;butifnot,thenwearetospendthemoneyofyourfriendsaswell.Nowsuppose,thatwhilewearethusenthusiasticallypursuingourobjectsomeoneweretosaytous:Tellme,Socrates,andyouHippocrates,whatisProtagoras,andwhyareyougoingtopayhimmoney,—howshouldweanswer?IknowthatPheidiasisasculptor,andthatHomerisapoet;butwhatappellationisgiventoProtagoras?howishedesignated?

TheycallhimaSophist,Socrates,hereplied.

ThenwearegoingtopayourmoneytohiminthecharacterofaSophist?

Certainly.

Butsupposeapersonweretoaskthisfurtherquestion:Andhowaboutyourself?WhatwillProtagorasmakeofyou,ifyougotoseehim?

Heanswered,withablushuponhis face (for thedaywas justbeginning todawn,sothatIcouldseehim):Unlessthisdiffersinsomewayfromtheformerinstances,IsupposethathewillmakeaSophistofme.

Bythegods,Isaid,andareyounotashamedathavingtoappearbeforetheHellenesinthecharacterofaSophist?

Indeed,Socrates,toconfessthetruth,Iam.

But you should not assume,Hippocrates, that the instruction of Protagoras is of this

nature: may you not learn of him in the same way that you learned the arts of thegrammarian, or musician, or trainer, not with the view of making any of them aprofession,butonlyasapartofeducation,andbecauseaprivategentlemanandfreemanoughttoknowthem?

Just so, he said; and that, in my opinion, is a far truer account of the teaching ofProtagoras.

Isaid:Iwonderwhetheryouknowwhatyouaredoing?

AndwhatamIdoing?

YouaregoingtocommityoursoultothecareofamanwhomyoucallaSophist.AndyetIhardlythinkthatyouknowwhataSophistis;andifnot,thenyoudonotevenknowto whom you are committing your soul and whether the thing to which you commityourselfbegoodorevil.

IcertainlythinkthatIdoknow,hereplied.

Thentellme,whatdoyouimaginethatheis?

Itakehimtobeonewhoknowswisethings,hereplied,ashisnameimplies.

Andmightyounot,Isaid,affirmthisofthepainterandofthecarpenteralso:Donotthey,too,knowwisethings?Butsupposeapersonweretoaskus:Inwhatarethepainterswise?We should answer: Inwhat relates to themaking of likenesses, and similarly ofotherthings.Andifhewerefurthertoask:WhatisthewisdomoftheSophist,andwhatisthemanufactureoverwhichhepresides?—howshouldweanswerhim?

Howshouldweanswerhim,Socrates?Whatother answer could therebebut thathepresidesovertheartwhichmakesmeneloquent?

Yes, I replied, that is very likely true, but not enough; for in the answer a furtherquestionisinvolved:OfwhatdoestheSophistmakeamantalkeloquently?Theplayeronthelyremaybesupposedtomakeamantalkeloquentlyaboutthatwhichhemakeshimunderstand,thatisaboutplayingthelyre.Isnotthattrue?

Yes.

ThenaboutwhatdoestheSophistmakehimeloquent?Mustnothemakehimeloquentinthatwhichheunderstands?

Yes,thatmaybeassumed.

AndwhatisthatwhichtheSophistknowsandmakeshisdiscipleknow?

Indeed,hesaid,Icannottell.

Then I proceeded to say: Well, but are you aware of the danger which you areincurring? Ifyouweregoing tocommityourbody tosomeone,whomightdogoodorharm to it, would you not carefully consider and ask the opinion of your friends andkindred, and deliberatemany days as towhether you should give him the care of yourbody?Butwhenthesoulisinquestion,whichyouholdtobeoffarmorevaluethanthebody,anduponthegoodorevilofwhichdependsthewell-beingofyourall,—aboutthisyouneverconsultedeitherwithyourfatherorwithyourbrotherorwithanyoneofuswho

areyourcompanions.Butnosoonerdoesthisforeignerappear,thanyouinstantlycommityoursoultohiskeeping.Intheevening,asyousay,youhearofhim,andinthemorningyougotohim,neverdeliberatingortakingtheopinionofanyoneastowhetheryououghttointrustyourselftohimornot;—youhavequitemadeupyourmindthatyouwillatallhazardsbeapupilofProtagoras,andarepreparedtoexpendallthepropertyofyourselfandofyourfriendsincarryingoutatanypricethisdetermination,although,asyouadmit,youdonotknowhim,andhaveneverspokenwithhim:andyoucallhimaSophist,butaremanifestlyignorantofwhataSophistis;andyetyouaregoingtocommityourselftohiskeeping.

Whenheheardmesaythis,hereplied:Nootherinference,Socrates,canbedrawnfromyourwords.

Iproceeded:IsnotaSophist,Hippocrates,onewhodealswholesaleorretailinthefoodofthesoul?Tomethatappearstobehisnature.

Andwhat,Socrates,isthefoodofthesoul?

Surely,Isaid,knowledgeisthefoodofthesoul;andwemusttakecare,myfriend,thattheSophistdoesnotdeceiveuswhenhepraiseswhathesells,likethedealerswholesaleor retailwho sell the foodof the body; for they praise indiscriminately all their goods,without knowingwhat are really beneficial or hurtful: neither do their customers know,with theexceptionof any trainerorphysicianwhomayhappen tobuyof them. In likemannerthosewhocarryaboutthewaresofknowledge,andmaketheroundofthecities,and sell or retail them to any customerwho is in want of them, praise them all alike;thoughIshouldnotwonder,Omyfriend, ifmanyof themwerereally ignorantof theireffectupon the soul; and their customers equally ignorant, unlesshewhobuysof themhappens to be a physician of the soul. If, therefore, you have understanding ofwhat isgoodandevil,youmaysafelybuyknowledgeofProtagorasorofanyone;butifnot,then,Omy friend, pause, and do not hazard your dearest interests at a game of chance. Forthereisfargreaterperilinbuyingknowledgethaninbuyingmeatanddrink:theoneyoupurchase of the wholesale or retail dealer, and carry them away in other vessels, andbeforeyoureceivethemintothebodyasfood,youmaydepositthemathomeandcallinanyexperiencedfriendwhoknowswhatisgoodtobeeatenordrunken,andwhatnot,andhowmuch, andwhen; and then thedangerofpurchasing them isnot sogreat.Butyoucannotbuythewaresofknowledgeandcarrythemawayinanothervessel;whenyouhavepaidforthemyoumustreceivethemintothesoulandgoyourway,eithergreatlyharmedorgreatlybenefited;andthereforeweshoulddeliberateandtakecounselwithourelders;forwearestillyoung—tooyoungtodeterminesuchamatter.Andnowletusgo,aswewereintending,andhearProtagoras;andwhenwehaveheardwhathehastosay,wemaytake counsel of others; for not only is Protagoras at the house of Callias, but there isHippiasofElis,and,ifIamnotmistaken,ProdicusofCeos,andseveralotherwisemen.

To this we agreed, and proceeded on our way until we reached the vestibule of thehouse;andtherewestoppedinordertoconcludeadiscussionwhichhadarisenbetweenusasweweregoingalong;andwestoodtalkinginthevestibuleuntilwehadfinishedandcometoanunderstanding.AndIthinkthatthedoor-keeper,whowasaeunuch,andwhowasprobablyannoyedatthegreatinroadoftheSophists,musthaveheardustalking.Atanyrate,whenweknockedatthedoor,andheopenedandsawus,hegrumbled:Theyare

Sophists—he is not at home; and instantly gave the door a hearty bang with both hishands.Againweknocked,andheansweredwithoutopening:Didyounothearmesaythatheisnotathome,fellows?But,myfriend,Isaid,youneednotbealarmed;forwearenotSophists,andwearenotcometoseeCallias,butwewanttoseeProtagoras;andImustrequestyoutoannounceus.Atlast,afteragooddealofdifficulty,themanwaspersuadedtoopenthedoor.

Whenweentered,wefoundProtagorastakingawalkinthecloister;andnexttohim,ononeside,werewalkingCallias,thesonofHipponicus,andParalus,thesonofPericles,who,bythemother’sside,ishishalf-brother,andCharmides,thesonofGlaucon.Ontheother side of him were Xanthippus, the other son of Pericles, Philippides, the son ofPhilomelus;alsoAntimoerusofMende,whoofallthedisciplesofProtagorasisthemostfamous,and intends tomakesophistryhisprofession.A trainof listeners followedhim;thegreaterpartofthemappearedtobeforeigners,whomProtagorashadbroughtwithhimoutofthevariouscitiesvisitedbyhiminhisjourneys,he,likeOrpheus,attractingthemhisvoice,andtheyfollowing(CompareRep.).IshouldmentionalsothatthereweresomeAthenians in the company. Nothing delighted me more than the precision of theirmovements:theynevergotintohiswayatall;butwhenheandthosewhowerewithhimturnedback, then thebandof listenerspartedregularlyoneitherside;hewasalways infront,andtheywheeledroundandtooktheirplacesbehindhiminperfectorder.

Afterhim,asHomersays(Od.),‘Iliftedupmyeyesandsaw’HippiastheEleansittingin the opposite cloister on a chair of state, and around him were seated on benchesEryximachus,thesonofAcumenus,andPhaedrustheMyrrhinusian,andAndronthesonofAndrotion,andtherewerestrangerswhomhehadbroughtwithhimfromhisnativecityofElis,andsomeothers: theywereputtingtoHippiascertainphysicalandastronomicalquestions, and he, ex cathedra, was determining their several questions to them, anddiscoursingofthem.

Also, ‘my eyes beheldTantalus (Od.);’ for Prodicus theCeanwas atAthens: he hadbeen lodged in a roomwhich, in the days ofHipponicus,was a storehouse; but, as thehousewasfull,Calliashadclearedthisoutandmadetheroomintoaguest-chamber.NowProdicuswasstillinbed,wrappedupinsheepskinsandbedclothes,ofwhichthereseemedto be a great heap; and therewas sitting by him on the couches near, Pausanias of thedeme of Cerameis, and with Pausanias was a youth quite young, who is certainlyremarkableforhisgoodlooks,and,ifIamnotmistaken,isalsoofafairandgentlenature.I thoughtthatIheardhimcalledAgathon,andmysuspicionis thatheis thebelovedofPausanias.Therewasthisyouth,andalsotherewerethetwoAdeimantuses,onethesonofCepis,andtheotherofLeucolophides,andsomeothers.IwasveryanxioustohearwhatProdicuswassaying,forheseemstometobeanall-wiseandinspiredman;butIwasnotabletogetintotheinnercircle,andhisfinedeepvoicemadeanechointheroomwhichrenderedhiswordsinaudible.

NosoonerhadweenteredthantherefollowedusAlcibiadesthebeautiful,asyousay,andIbelieveyou;andalsoCritiasthesonofCallaeschrus.

On entering we stopped a little, in order to look about us, and then walked up toProtagoras,andIsaid:Protagoras,myfriendHippocratesandIhavecometoseeyou.

Doyouwish,hesaid,tospeakwithmealone,orinthepresenceofthecompany?

Whicheveryouplease,Isaid;youshalldeterminewhenyouhaveheardthepurposeofourvisit.

Andwhatisyourpurpose?hesaid.

Imustexplain,Isaid,thatmyfriendHippocratesisanativeAthenian;heisthesonofApollodorus,andofagreatandprosperoushouse,andheishimselfinnaturalabilityquiteamatchforanybodyofhisownage.Ibelievethatheaspires topoliticaleminence;andthishethinksthatconversationwithyouismostlikelytoprocureforhim.Andnowyoucandeterminewhetheryouwouldwishtospeaktohimofyourteachingaloneorinthepresenceofthecompany.

Thankyou,Socrates,foryourconsiderationofme.Forcertainlyastrangerfindinghiswayintogreatcities,andpersuadingthefloweroftheyouthinthemtoleavecompanyoftheirkinsmenoranyotheracquaintances,oldoryoung,andlivewithhim,undertheideathattheywillbeimprovedbyhisconversation,oughttobeverycautious;greatjealousiesarearousedbyhisproceedings,andheisthesubjectofmanyenmitiesandconspiracies.Nowtheartof theSophist is,as Ibelieve,ofgreatantiquity;but inancient times thosewhopractisedit,fearingthisodium,veiledanddisguisedthemselvesundervariousnames,some under that of poets, asHomer,Hesiod, and Simonides, some, of hierophants andprophets, as Orpheus and Musaeus, and some, as I observe, even under the name ofgymnastic-masters, like Iccus of Tarentum, or the more recently celebrated Herodicus,now of Selymbria and formerly of Megara, who is a first-rate Sophist. Your ownAgathocles pretended to be a musician, but was really an eminent Sophist; alsoPythocleides the Cean; and there weremany others; and all of them, as I was saying,adoptedtheseartsasveilsordisguisesbecausetheywereafraidoftheodiumwhichtheywouldincur.Butthatisnotmyway,forIdonotbelievethattheyeffectedtheirpurpose,which was to deceive the government, who were not blinded by them; and as to thepeople, theyhavenounderstanding,andonlyrepeatwhat their rulersarepleased to tellthem.Nowtorunaway,andtobecaughtinrunningaway,istheveryheightoffolly,andalsogreatlyincreasestheexasperationofmankind;fortheyregardhimwhorunsawayasarogue,inadditiontoanyotherobjectionswhichtheyhavetohim;andthereforeItakeanentirely opposite course, and acknowledge myself to be a Sophist and instructor ofmankind;suchanopenacknowledgementappearstometobeabettersortofcautionthanconcealment.NordoIneglectotherprecautions,andthereforeIhope,asImaysay,bythefavourofheaventhatnoharmwillcomeoftheacknowledgmentthatIamaSophist.AndIhavebeennowmanyyearsintheprofession—forallmyyearswhenaddeduparemany:thereisnooneherepresentofwhomImightnotbethefather.WhereforeIshouldmuchpreferconversingwithyou,ifyouwanttospeakwithme,inthepresenceofthecompany.

As I suspected that he would like to have a little display and glorification in thepresenceofProdicusandHippias,andwouldgladlyshowus to themin the lightofhisadmirers,Isaid:ButwhyshouldwenotsummonProdicusandHippiasandtheirfriendstohearus?

Verygood,hesaid.

Suppose,saidCallias,thatweholdacouncilinwhichyoumaysitanddiscuss.—This

wasagreedupon,andgreatdelightwasfeltattheprospectofhearingwisementalk;weourselves took the chairs and benches, and arranged them byHippias, where the otherbencheshadbeenalreadyplaced.MeanwhileCalliasandAlcibiadesgotProdicusoutofbedandbroughtinhimandhiscompanions.

When we were all seated, Protagoras said: Now that the company are assembled,Socrates,tellmeabouttheyoungmanofwhomyouwerejustnowspeaking.

Ireplied:Iwillbeginagainat thesamepoint,Protagoras,andtellyouoncemorethepurport of my visit: this is my friend Hippocrates, who is desirous of making youracquaintance;hewouldliketoknowwhatwillhappentohimifheassociateswithyou.Ihavenomoretosay.

Protagorasanswered:Youngman, ifyouassociatewithme,on theveryfirstdayyouwill returnhomeabetterman thanyoucame,andbetteron thesecondday thanon thefirst,andbettereverydaythanyouwereonthedaybefore.

When I heard this, I said:Protagoras, I donot at allwonder at hearingyou say this;evenatyourage,andwithallyourwisdom,ifanyoneweretoteachyouwhatyoudidnotknowbefore,youwouldbecomebetternodoubt:butpleasetoanswerinadifferentway—Iwillexplainhowbyanexample.LetmesupposethatHippocrates,insteadofdesiringyour acquaintance, wished to become acquainted with the young man Zeuxippus ofHeraclea,whohaslatelybeeninAthens,andhehadcometohimashehascometoyou,andhadheardhimsay,ashehasheardyousay,thateverydayhewouldgrowandbecomebetterifheassociatedwithhim:andthensupposethatheweretoaskhim,‘InwhatshallIbecomebetter,andinwhatshallIgrow?’—Zeuxippuswouldanswer,‘Inpainting.’Andsuppose thathewent toOrthagoras theTheban, andheardhimsay the same thing, andaskedhim,‘InwhatshallIbecomebetterdaybyday?’hewouldreply,‘Influte-playing.’NowIwantyoutomakethesamesortofanswertothisyoungmanandtome,whoamaskingquestionsonhisaccount.Whenyousaythatonthefirstdayonwhichheassociateswithyouhewillreturnhomeabetterman,andoneverydaywillgrowinlikemanner,—inwhat,Protagoras,willhebebetter?andaboutwhat?

WhenProtagorasheardmesaythis,hereplied:Youaskquestionsfairly,andI liketoansweraquestionwhichisfairlyput.IfHippocratescomestomehewillnotexperiencethesortofdrudgerywithwhichotherSophistsare in thehabitof insulting theirpupils;who,whentheyhavejustescapedfromthearts,aretakenanddrivenbackintothembytheseteachers,andmadetolearncalculation,andastronomy,andgeometry,andmusic(hegavealookatHippiasashesaidthis);butifhecomestome,hewilllearnthatwhichhecomestolearn.Andthis isprudenceinaffairsprivateaswellaspublic;hewill learntoorderhisownhouseinthebestmanner,andhewillbeabletospeakandactforthebestintheaffairsofthestate.

DoIunderstandyou,Isaid;andisyourmeaningthatyouteachtheartofpolitics,andthatyoupromisetomakemengoodcitizens?

That,Socrates,isexactlytheprofessionwhichImake.

Then,Isaid,youdoindeedpossessanobleart,ifthereisnomistakeaboutthis;forIwill freelyconfess toyou,Protagoras, that Ihaveadoubtwhether thisart iscapableofbeingtaught,andyetIknownothowtodisbelieveyourassertion.AndIoughttotellyou

whyIamofopinionthatthisartcannotbetaughtorcommunicatedbymantoman.IsaythattheAtheniansareanunderstandingpeople,andindeedtheyareesteemedtobesuchbytheotherHellenes.NowIobservethatwhenwearemettogetherintheassembly,andthematter inhand relates tobuilding, thebuildersare summonedasadvisers;when thequestion is oneof ship-building, then the ship-wrights; and the likeof other artswhichthey thinkcapableofbeing taughtand learned.And if somepersonoffers togive themadvicewhoisnotsupposedbythemtohaveanyskillintheart,eventhoughhebegood-looking,andrich,andnoble,theywillnotlistentohim,butlaughandhootathim,untileitherheisclamoureddownandretiresofhimself;orifhepersist,heisdraggedawayorputoutbytheconstablesatthecommandoftheprytanes.Thisistheirwayofbehavingaboutprofessorsofthearts.Butwhenthequestionisanaffairofstate,theneverybodyisfree tohavea say—carpenter, tinker, cobbler, sailor,passenger; richandpoor,highandlow—anyonewholikesgetsup,andnoonereproacheshim,asintheformercase,withnothavinglearned,andhavingnoteacher,andyetgivingadvice;evidentlybecausetheyareundertheimpressionthatthissortofknowledgecannotbetaught.Andnotonlyisthistrueofthestate,butofindividuals;thebestandwisestofourcitizensareunabletoimparttheirpoliticalwisdomtoothers:asforexample,Pericles,thefatheroftheseyoungmen,whogavethemexcellentinstructioninallthatcouldbelearnedfrommasters,inhisowndepartmentofpoliticsneithertaughtthem,norgavethemteachers;buttheywereallowedtowanderattheirownfreewillinasortofhopethattheywouldlightuponvirtueoftheirownaccord.Ortakeanotherexample:therewasCleiniastheyoungerbrotherofourfriendAlcibiades,ofwhomthisverysamePericleswastheguardian;andhebeinginfactunderthe apprehension that Cleinias would be corrupted by Alcibiades, took him away, andplacedhimin thehouseofAriphrontobeeducated;butbeforesixmonthshadelapsed,Ariphron sent him back, not knowing what to do with him. And I could mentionnumberlessotherinstancesofpersonswhoweregoodthemselves,andneveryetmadeanyone else good, whether friend or stranger. Now I, Protagoras, having these examplesbeforeme,aminclinedtothinkthatvirtuecannotbetaught.Butthenagain,whenIlistentoyourwords, Iwaver;andamdisposed to think that theremustbesomething inwhatyousay,becauseIknowthatyouhavegreatexperience,andlearning,andinvention.AndIwishthatyouwould,ifpossible,showmealittlemoreclearlythatvirtuecanbetaught.Willyoubesogood?

ThatIwill,Socrates,andgladly.Butwhatwouldyoulike?ShallI,asanelder,speaktoyouasyoungermeninanapologueormyth,orshallIargueoutthequestion?

Tothisseveralofthecompanyansweredthatheshouldchooseforhimself.

Well,then,hesaid,Ithinkthatthemythwillbemoreinteresting.

Once upon a time therewere gods only, and nomortal creatures.Butwhen the timecamethatthesealsoshouldbecreated,thegodsfashionedthemoutofearthandfireandvariousmixturesofbothelementsintheinterioroftheearth;andwhentheywereabouttobringthemintothelightofday,theyorderedPrometheusandEpimetheustoequipthem,andtodistributetothemseverallytheirproperqualities.EpimetheussaidtoPrometheus:‘Let me distribute, and do you inspect.’ This was agreed, and Epimetheus made thedistribution. There were some to whom he gave strength without swiftness, while heequipped the weaker with swiftness; some he armed, and others he left unarmed; and

devised for the latter someothermeansofpreservation,makingsome large,andhavingtheirsizeasaprotection,andotherssmall,whosenaturewastoflyintheairorburrowinthe ground; thiswas to be theirway of escape.Thus did he compensate themwith theviewofpreventingany race frombecomingextinct.Andwhenhehadprovidedagainsttheirdestructionbyoneanother,hecontrivedalsoameansofprotectingthemagainsttheseasonsofheaven;clothingthemwithclosehairandthickskinssufficienttodefendthemagainst the winter cold and able to resist the summer heat, so that they might have anaturalbedoftheirownwhentheywantedtorest;alsohefurnishedthemwithhoofsandhairandhardandcallousskinsunder their feet.Thenhegave themvarietiesof food,—herbofthesoiltosome,toothersfruitsoftrees,andtoothersroots,andtosomeagainhegaveotheranimalsasfood.Andsomehemadetohavefewyoungones,whilethosewhowere theirpreywereveryprolific;and in thismanner the racewaspreserved.ThusdidEpimetheus, who, not being very wise, forgot that he had distributed among the bruteanimalsallthequalitieswhichhehadtogive,—andwhenhecametoman,whowasstillunprovided,hewasterriblyperplexed.Nowwhilehewasinthisperplexity,Prometheuscame to inspect the distribution, and he found that the other animals were suitablyfurnished,but thatmanalonewasnakedand shoeless, andhadneitherbednorarmsofdefence.Theappointedhourwasapproachingwhenmaninhisturnwastogoforthintothelightofday;andPrometheus,notknowinghowhecoulddevisehissalvation,stolethemechanical artsofHephaestusandAthene, and firewith them (theycouldneitherhavebeenacquirednorusedwithoutfire),andgave themtoman.Thusmanhad thewisdomnecessary to the support of life, but political wisdom he had not; for that was in thekeepingofZeus,andthepowerofPrometheusdidnotextendtoenteringintothecitadelof heaven,whereZeus dwelt,whomoreover had terrible sentinels; but he did enter bystealth into the common workshop of Athene and Hephaestus, in which they used topractise their favouritearts,andcarriedoffHephaestus’artofworkingbyfire,andalsothe art ofAthene, and gave them toman.And in thiswaymanwas suppliedwith themeansoflife.ButPrometheusissaidtohavebeenafterwardsprosecutedfortheft,owingtotheblunderofEpimetheus.

Now man, having a share of the divine attributes, was at first the only one of theanimalswho had any gods, because he alonewas of their kindred; and hewould raisealtarsandimagesofthem.Hewasnotlongininventingarticulatespeechandnames;andhealsoconstructedhousesandclothesandshoesandbeds,anddrewsustenancefromtheearth.Thusprovided,mankindat first liveddispersed,and therewerenocities.But theconsequencewasthattheyweredestroyedbythewildbeasts,fortheywereutterlyweakincomparisonofthem,andtheirartwasonlysufficienttoprovidethemwiththemeansoflife,anddidnotenablethemtocarryonwaragainsttheanimals:foodtheyhad,butnotasyettheartofgovernment,ofwhichtheartofwarisapart.Afterawhilethedesireofself-preservationgathered themintocities;butwhen theyweregathered together,havingnoartofgovernment,theyevilintreatedoneanother,andwereagaininprocessofdispersionanddestruction.Zeus feared that the entire racewould be exterminated, and so he sentHermestothem,bearingreverenceandjusticetobetheorderingprinciplesofcitiesandthebondsoffriendshipandconciliation.HermesaskedZeushowheshouldimpartjusticeandreverenceamongmen:—Shouldhedistributethemastheartsaredistributed;thatistosay, toafavouredfewonly,oneskilledindividualhavingenoughofmedicineorofanyotherart formanyunskilledones?‘Shall thisbe themanner inwhichIamtodistribute

justiceandreverenceamongmen,orshallIgivethemtoall?’‘Toall,’saidZeus;‘Ishouldlikethemalltohaveashare;forcitiescannotexist,ifafewonlyshareinthevirtues,asinthearts.Andfurther,makealawbymyorder,thathewhohasnopartinreverenceandjusticeshallbeputtodeath,forheisaplagueofthestate.’

Andthisisthereason,Socrates,whytheAtheniansandmankindingeneral,whenthequestionrelates tocarpenteringoranyothermechanicalart,allowbuta fewtoshare intheirdeliberations;andwhenanyoneelseinterferes,then,asyousay,theyobject,ifhebenot of the favoured few; which, as I reply, is very natural. But when they meet todeliberateaboutpoliticalvirtue,whichproceedsonlybywayofjusticeandwisdom,theyarepatientenoughofanymanwhospeaksofthem,asisalsonatural,becausetheythinkthateverymanoughttoshareinthissortofvirtue,andthatstatescouldnotexistif thiswereotherwise.Ihaveexplainedtoyou,Socrates,thereasonofthisphenomenon.

Andthatyoumaynotsupposeyourselftobedeceivedinthinkingthatallmenregardeverymanashavingashareofjusticeorhonestyandofeveryotherpoliticalvirtue,letmegiveyouafurtherproof,whichisthis.Inothercases,asyouareaware,ifamansaysthatheisagoodflute-player,orskilfulinanyotherartinwhichhehasnoskill,peopleeitherlaugh at him or are angrywith him, and his relations think that he ismad and go andadmonishhim;butwhenhonestyisinquestion,orsomeotherpoliticalvirtue,eveniftheyknowthatheisdishonest,yet,ifthemancomespubliclyforwardandtellsthetruthabouthisdishonesty,then,whatintheothercasewasheldbythemtobegoodsense,theynowdeem to bemadness. They say that allmen ought to profess honestywhether they arehonestornot,andthatamanisoutofhismindwhosaysanythingelse.Theirnotionis,thatamanmusthavesomedegreeofhonesty;andthatifhehasnoneatallheoughtnottobeintheworld.

Ihavebeenshowing that theyare right inadmittingeverymanasacounselloraboutthissortofvirtue,astheyareofopinionthateverymanisapartakerofit.AndIwillnowendeavourtoshowfurtherthattheydonotconceivethisvirtuetobegivenbynature,ortogrowspontaneously,buttobeathingwhichmaybetaught;andwhichcomestoamanbytakingpains.Noonewouldinstruct,noonewouldrebuke,orbeangrywiththosewhosecalamities they suppose to be due to nature or chance; they do not try to punish or toprevent them frombeingwhat they are; theydobutpity them.Who is so foolish as tochastiseorinstructtheugly,orthediminutive,orthefeeble?Andforthisreason.Becauseheknowsthatgoodandevilofthiskindistheworkofnatureandofchance;whereasifaman is wanting in those good qualities which are attained by study and exercise andteaching, and has only the contrary evil qualities, other men are angry with him, andpunishandreprovehim—oftheseevilqualitiesoneisimpiety,anotherinjustice,andtheymaybedescribedgenerallyastheveryoppositeofpoliticalvirtue.Insuchcasesanymanwillbeangrywithanother,andreprimandhim,—clearlybecausehethinksthatbystudyandlearning,thevirtueinwhichtheotherisdeficientmaybeacquired.Ifyouwillthink,Socrates,ofthenatureofpunishment,youwillseeatoncethatintheopinionofmankindvirtuemaybeacquired;noonepunishestheevil-doerunderthenotion,orforthereason,thathehasdonewrong,—onlytheunreasonablefuryofabeastactsinthatmanner.Buthewhodesirestoinflictrationalpunishmentdoesnotretaliateforapastwrongwhichcannotbeundone;hehasregardtothefuture,andisdesirousthatthemanwhoispunished,andhewhoseeshimpunished,maybedeterredfromdoingwrongagain.Hepunishesforthe

sakeofprevention,therebyclearlyimplyingthatvirtueiscapableofbeingtaught.Thisisthenotionofallwhoretaliateuponotherseitherprivatelyorpublicly.AndtheAthenians,too, your own citizens, like other men, punish and take vengeance on all whom theyregardasevildoers;andhence,wemayinferthemtobeofthenumberofthosewhothinkthat virtue may be acquired and taught. Thus far, Socrates, I have shown you clearlyenough,ifIamnotmistaken,thatyourcountrymenarerightinadmittingthetinkerandthecobblertoadviseaboutpolitics,andalsothattheydeemvirtuetobecapableofbeingtaughtandacquired.

Thereyetremainsonedifficultywhichhasbeenraisedbyyouaboutthesonsofgoodmen.What is thereasonwhygoodmenteachtheirsons theknowledgewhichisgainedfromteachers,andmakethemwiseinthat,butdonothingtowardsimprovingtheminthevirtueswhichdistinguish themselves?Andhere,Socrates, Iwill leave theapologueandresumetheargument.Pleasetoconsider:Isthereoristherenotsomeonequalityofwhichall the citizens must be partakers, if there is to be a city at all? In the answer to thisquestioniscontainedtheonlysolutionofyourdifficulty;thereisnoother.Foriftherebeanysuchquality,andthisqualityorunityisnottheartofthecarpenter,orthesmith,orthepotter,butjusticeandtemperanceandholinessand,inaword,manlyvirtue—ifthisisthequality of which all men must be partakers, and which is the very condition of theirlearningordoinganythingelse,and ifhewho iswanting in this,whetherhebeachildonlyoragrown-upmanorwoman,mustbetaughtandpunished,untilbypunishmenthebecomesbetter,andhewhorebelsagainst instructionandpunishmentiseitherexiledorcondemnedtodeathundertheideathatheisincurable—ifwhatIamsayingbetrue,goodmenhavetheirsonstaughtotherthingsandnotthis,doconsiderhowextraordinarytheirconductwouldappear tobe.Forwehaveshownthat they thinkvirtuecapableofbeingtaughtandcultivatedbothinprivateandpublic;and,notwithstanding,theyhavetheirsonstaught lessermatters, ignoranceofwhichdoesnot involve thepunishmentofdeath:butgreater things,ofwhich the ignorancemaycausedeathandexile to thosewhohavenotrainingorknowledgeof them—aye, and confiscation aswell asdeath, and, in aword,maybetheruinoffamilies—thosethings,Isay,theyaresupposednottoteachthem,—nottotaketheutmostcarethattheyshouldlearn.Howimprobableisthis,Socrates!

Educationandadmonitioncommenceinthefirstyearsofchildhood,andlasttotheveryendof life.Motherandnurseandfatherand tutorarevyingwithoneanotherabout theimprovementof thechildassoonaseverhe isable tounderstandwhat isbeingsaid tohim:hecannotsayordoanythingwithout theirsettingforth tohimthat this is justandthatisunjust;thisishonourable,thatisdishonourable;thisisholy,thatisunholy;dothisandabstainfromthat.Andifheobeys,wellandgood;ifnot,heisstraightenedbythreatsandblows,likeapieceofbentorwarpedwood.Atalaterstagetheysendhimtoteachers,andenjointhemtoseetohismannersevenmorethantohisreadingandmusic;andtheteachersdoastheyaredesired.Andwhentheboyhaslearnedhislettersandisbeginningtounderstandwhatiswritten,asbeforeheunderstoodonlywhatwasspoken,theyputintohishandstheworksofgreatpoets,whichhereadssittingonabenchatschool;inthesearecontainedmanyadmonitions,andmanytales,andpraises,andencomiaofancientfamousmen,whichheisrequiredtolearnbyheart,inorderthathemayimitateoremulatethemanddesiretobecomelikethem.Then,again,theteachersofthelyretakesimilarcarethattheir youngdisciple is temperate andgets intonomischief; andwhen theyhave taught

himtheuseofthelyre,theyintroducehimtothepoemsofotherexcellentpoets,whoarethelyricpoets;andthesetheysettomusic,andmaketheirharmoniesandrhythmsquitefamiliar to the children’s souls, in order that they may learn to be more gentle, andharmonious,andrhythmical,andsomorefittedforspeechandaction;forthelifeofmanin every part has need of harmony and rhythm. Then they send them to themaster ofgymnastic, in order that their bodiesmay betterminister to the virtuousmind, and thattheymaynotbecompelledthroughbodilyweaknesstoplaythecowardinwaroronanyotheroccasion.Thisiswhatisdonebythosewhohavethemeans,andthosewhohavethemeansaretherich;theirchildrenbegintogotoschoolsoonestandleaveofflatest.Whentheyhavedonewithmasters,thestateagaincompelsthemtolearnthelaws,andliveafterthepatternwhichtheyfurnish,andnotaftertheirownfancies;andjustasinlearningtowrite,thewriting-masterfirstdrawslineswithastylefortheuseoftheyoungbeginner,andgiveshimthetabletandmakeshimfollowthelines,sothecitydrawsthelaws,whichweretheinventionofgoodlawgiverslivingintheoldentime;thesearegiventotheyoungman,inordertoguidehiminhisconductwhetherheiscommandingorobeying;andhewhotransgressesthemistobecorrected,or,inotherwords,calledtoaccount,whichisatermusednotonlyinyourcountry,butalsoinmanyothers,seeingthatjusticecallsmentoaccount.Nowwhenthereisallthiscareaboutvirtueprivateandpublic,why,Socrates,do you still wonder and doubtwhether virtue can be taught? Cease towonder, for theoppositewouldbefarmoresurprising.

But why then do the sons of good fathers often turn out ill? There is nothing verywonderfulinthis;for,asIhavebeensaying,theexistenceofastateimpliesthatvirtueisnotanyman’sprivatepossession.Ifso—andnothingcanbetruer—thenIwillfurtheraskyoutoimagine,asanillustration,someotherpursuitorbranchofknowledgewhichmaybeassumedequallytobetheconditionoftheexistenceofastate.Supposethattherecouldbenostateunlesswewereallflute-players,asfaraseachhadthecapacity,andeverybodywasfreely teachingeverybodytheart,both inprivateandpublic,andreprovingthebadplayerasfreelyandopenlyaseverymannowteachesjusticeandthelaws,notconcealingthemashewouldconcealtheotherarts,butimpartingthem—forallofushaveamutualinterestinthejusticeandvirtueofoneanother,andthisisthereasonwhyeveryoneissoready to teach justiceand the laws;—suppose, I say, that therewere the same readinessandliberalityamongusinteachingoneanotherflute-playing,doyouimagine,Socrates,thatthesonsofgoodflute-playerswouldbemorelikelytobegoodthanthesonsofbadones? I think not.Would not their sons growup to be distinguished or undistinguishedaccording to their own natural capacities as flute-players, and the son of a good playerwouldoften turnout tobeabadone,and thesonofabadplayer tobeagoodone,allflute-players would be good enough in comparison of those who were ignorant andunacquaintedwiththeartofflute-playing?InlikemannerIwouldhaveyouconsiderthathewhoappears toyou tobe theworstof thosewhohavebeenbroughtup in lawsandhumanities, would appear to be a just man and a master of justice if he were to becomparedwithmenwhohadnoeducation,orcourtsofjustice,orlaws,oranyrestraintsupon them which compelled them to practise virtue—with the savages, for example,whomthepoetPherecratesexhibitedonthestageatthelastyear’sLenaeanfestival.Ifyouwerelivingamongmensuchastheman-hatersinhisChorus,youwouldbeonlytoogladtomeetwithEurybates and Phrynondas, and youwould sorrowfully long to revisit therascalityofthispartoftheworld.You,Socrates,arediscontented,andwhy?Becauseall

menareteachersofvirtue,eachoneaccordingtohisability;andyousayWherearetheteachers?Youmightaswellask,WhoteachesGreek?Forofthattootherewillnotbeanyteachersfound.Oryoumightask,Whois toteachthesonsofourartisansthissameartwhichtheyhavelearnedoftheirfathers?Heandhisfellow-workmenhavetaughtthemtothebest of their ability,—butwhowill carry them further in their arts?Andyouwouldcertainlyhaveadifficulty,Socrates, infindinga teacherof them;but therewouldbenodifficultyinfindingateacherofthosewhoarewhollyignorant.Andthisistrueofvirtueorofanythingelse;ifamanisbetterablethanwearetopromotevirtueeversolittle,wemustbecontentwiththeresult.AteacherofthissortIbelievemyselftobe,andaboveallothermen to have the knowledgewhichmakes aman noble and good; and I givemypupils theirmoney’s-worth,andevenmore,as they themselvesconfess.And therefore Ihaveintroducedthefollowingmodeofpayment:—Whenamanhasbeenmypupil,ifhelikeshepaysmyprice,butthereisnocompulsion;andifhedoesnotlike,hehasonlytogo intoa templeand takeanoathof thevalueof the instructions,andhepaysnomorethanhedeclarestobetheirvalue.

SuchismyApologue,Socrates,andsuchistheargumentbywhichIendeavourtoshowthatvirtuemaybe taught,andthat this is theopinionof theAthenians.AndIhavealsoattemptedtoshowthatyouarenottowonderatgoodfathershavingbadsons,oratgoodsonshavingbadfathers,ofwhichthesonsofPolycleitusaffordanexample,whoarethecompanionsofour friendshere,ParalusandXanthippus,butarenothing incomparisonwiththeirfather;andthisistrueofthesonsofmanyotherartists.AsyetIoughtnottosaythesameofParalusandXanthippusthemselves,fortheyareyoungandthereisstillhopeofthem.

Protagorasended,andinmyear

‘Socharminglefthisvoice,thatIthewhileThoughthimstillspeaking;stillstoodfixedtohear(BorrowedbyMilton,“ParadiseLost”.).’

At length, when the truth dawned uponme, that he had really finished, not withoutdifficulty Ibegan tocollectmyself,and lookingatHippocrates, I said tohim:OsonofApollodorus,howdeeplygratefulIamtoyouforhavingbroughtmehither;IwouldnothavemissedthespeechofProtagorasforagreatdeal.ForIusedtoimaginethatnohumancare could make men good; but I know better now. Yet I have still one very smalldifficultywhichIamsurethatProtagoraswilleasilyexplain,ashehasalreadyexplainedsomuch.IfamanweretogoandconsultPericlesoranyofourgreatspeakersaboutthesematters,hemightperhapshearasfineadiscourse;butthenwhenonehasaquestiontoaskofanyofthem,likebooks,theycanneitheranswernorask;andifanyonechallengestheleastparticularof their speech, theygo ringingon ina longharangue, likebrazenpots,whichwhentheyarestruckcontinuetosoundunlesssomeoneputshishanduponthem;whereasourfriendProtagorascannotonlymakeagoodspeech,ashehasalreadyshown,butwhenheisaskedaquestionhecananswerbriefly;andwhenheaskshewillwaitandheartheanswer;andthisisaveryraregift.NowI,Protagoras,wanttoaskofyoualittlequestion,which ifyouwillonlyanswer, I shallbequite satisfied.Youweresaying thatvirtuecanbetaught;—thatIwilltakeuponyourauthority,andthereisnoonetowhomIammorereadyto trust.ButImarvelatonethingaboutwhichIshouldlike tohavemymind set at rest.Youwere speakingofZeus sending justice and reverence tomen; andseveraltimeswhileyouwerespeaking,justice,andtemperance,andholiness,andallthesequalities,weredescribedbyyouasiftogethertheymadeupvirtue.NowIwantyoutotellme trulywhethervirtue isonewhole,ofwhich justiceand temperanceandholinessareparts;orwhetheralltheseareonlythenamesofoneandthesamething:thatisthedoubtwhichstilllingersinmymind.

There is no difficulty, Socrates, in answering that the qualities of which you arespeakingarethepartsofvirtuewhichisone.

Andaretheyparts,Isaid,inthesamesenseinwhichmouth,nose,andeyes,andears,arethepartsofaface;oraretheylikethepartsofgold,whichdifferfromthewholeandfromoneanotheronlyinbeinglargerorsmaller?

Ishouldsaythattheydiffered,Socrates,inthefirstway;theyarerelatedtooneanotherasthepartsofafacearerelatedtothewholeface.

Anddomenhavesomeonepartandsomeanotherpartofvirtue?Orifamanhasonepart,musthealsohavealltheothers?

Bynomeans,hesaid;formanyamanisbraveandnotjust,orjustandnotwise.

Youwouldnotdeny,then,thatcourageandwisdomarealsopartsofvirtue?

Mostundoubtedlytheyare,heanswered;andwisdomisthenoblestoftheparts.

Andtheyarealldifferentfromoneanother?Isaid.

Yes.

And has each of them a distinct function like the parts of the face;—the eye, forexample,isnotliketheear,andhasnotthesamefunctions;andtheotherpartsarenoneofthem like one another, either in their functions, or in any other way? I want to knowwhetherthecomparisonholdsconcerningthepartsofvirtue.Dotheyalsodifferfromoneanother in themselves and in their functions? For that is clearlywhat the similewouldimply.

Yes,Socrates,youarerightinsupposingthattheydiffer.

Then,Isaid,nootherpartofvirtueislikeknowledge,orlikejustice,orlikecourage,orliketemperance,orlikeholiness?

No,heanswered.

Wellthen,Isaid,supposethatyouandIenquireintotheirnatures.Andfirst,youwouldagreewithmethatjusticeisofthenatureofathing,wouldyounot?Thatismyopinion:woulditnotbeyoursalso?

Minealso,hesaid.

Andsuppose thatsomeonewere toaskus,saying, ‘OProtagoras,andyou,Socrates,whataboutthisthingwhichyouwerecallingjustice,isitjustorunjust?’—andIweretoanswer,just:wouldyouvotewithmeoragainstme?

Withyou,hesaid.

ThereuponIshouldanswertohimwhoaskedme,thatjusticeisofthenatureofthejust:wouldnotyou?

Yes,hesaid.

And suppose that he went on to say: ‘Well now, is there also such a thing asholiness?’—weshouldanswer,‘Yes,’ifIamnotmistaken?

Yes,hesaid.

Whichyouwouldalsoacknowledgetobeathing—shouldwenotsayso?

Heassented.

‘And is thisa sortof thingwhich isof thenatureof theholy,orof thenatureof theunholy?’ I shouldbeangryathisputting suchaquestion, and should say, ‘Peace,man;nothingcanbeholyifholinessisnotholy.’Whatwouldyousay?Wouldyounotanswerinthesameway?

Certainly,hesaid.

And then after this suppose that he came and asked us, ‘Whatwere you saying just

now?PerhapsImaynothaveheardyourightly,butyouseemedtometobesayingthatthepartsofvirtuewerenotthesameasoneanother.’Ishouldreply,‘Youcertainlyheardthatsaid,butnot,asyouimagine,byme;forIonlyaskedthequestion;Protagorasgavetheanswer.’Andsupposethatheturnedtoyouandsaid,‘Isthistrue,Protagoras?anddoyoumaintain that onepart of virtue is unlike another, and is this yourposition?’—howwouldyouanswerhim?

Icouldnothelpacknowledgingthetruthofwhathesaid,Socrates.

Wellthen,Protagoras,wewillassumethis;andnowsupposingthatheproceededtosayfurther,‘Thenholinessisnotofthenatureofjustice,norjusticeofthenatureofholiness,butofthenatureofunholiness;andholinessisofthenatureofthenotjust,andthereforeoftheunjust,andtheunjustistheunholy’:howshallweanswerhim?Ishouldcertainlyanswerhimonmyownbehalfthatjusticeisholy,andthatholinessisjust;andIwouldsayinlikemanneronyourbehalfalso,ifyouwouldallowme,thatjusticeiseitherthesamewith holiness, or very nearly the same; and above all Iwould assert that justice is likeholinessandholinessislikejustice;andIwishthatyouwouldtellmewhetherImaybepermittedtogivethisansweronyourbehalf,andwhetheryouwouldagreewithme.

Hereplied,Icannotsimplyagree,Socrates, to thepropositionthat justice isholyandthatholiness is just, for thereappears tome tobeadifferencebetween them.Butwhatmatter?ifyoupleaseIplease;andletusassume,ifyouwillI,thatjusticeisholy,andthatholinessisjust.

Pardonme,Ireplied;Idonotwantthis‘ifyouwish’or‘ifyouwill’sortofconclusiontobeproven,butIwantyouandmetobeproven:Imeantosaythattheconclusionwillbebestproveniftherebeno‘if.’

Well,hesaid, Iadmit that justicebearsa resemblance toholiness, for there isalwayssomepointofviewinwhicheverythingislikeeveryotherthing;whiteisinacertainwaylikeblack, andhard is like soft, and themost extremeoppositeshave somequalities incommon;eventhepartsofthefacewhich,asweweresayingbefore,aredistinctandhavedifferent functions, are still in a certain point of view similar, and one of them is likeanotherofthem.Andyoumayprovethattheyarelikeoneanotheronthesameprinciplethatallthingsarelikeoneanother;andyetthingswhicharelikeinsomeparticularoughtnot to be called alike, nor things which are unlike in some particular, however slight,unlike.

Anddoyouthink,Isaidinatoneofsurprise,thatjusticeandholinesshavebutasmalldegreeoflikeness?

Certainlynot;anymorethanIagreewithwhatIunderstandtobeyourview.

Well, I said, as you appear to have a difficulty about this, let us take another of theexampleswhichyoumentionedinstead.Doyouadmittheexistenceoffolly?

Ido.

Andisnotwisdomtheveryoppositeoffolly?

Thatistrue,hesaid.

Andwhenmenactrightlyandadvantageouslytheyseemtoyoutobetemperate?

Yes,hesaid.

Andtemperancemakesthemtemperate?

Certainly.

Andtheywhodonotactrightlyactfoolishly,andinactingthusarenottemperate?

Iagree,hesaid.

Thentoactfoolishlyistheoppositeofactingtemperately?

Heassented.

Andfoolishactionsaredonebyfolly,andtemperateactionsbytemperance?

Heagreed.

Andthatisdonestronglywhichisdonebystrength,andthatwhichisweaklydone,byweakness?

Heassented.

And that which is done with swiftness is done swiftly, and that which is done withslowness,slowly?

Heassentedagain.

Andthatwhichisdoneinthesamemanner,isdonebythesame;andthatwhichisdoneinanoppositemannerbytheopposite?

Heagreed.

Oncemore,Isaid,isthereanythingbeautiful?

Yes.

Towhichtheonlyoppositeistheugly?

Thereisnoother.

Andisthereanythinggood?

Thereis.

Towhichtheonlyoppositeistheevil?

Thereisnoother.

Andthereistheacuteinsound?

True.

Towhichtheonlyoppositeisthegrave?

Thereisnoother,hesaid,butthat.

Theneveryoppositehasoneoppositeonlyandnomore?

Heassented.

Then now, I said, let us recapitulate our admissions. First of all we admitted that

everythinghasoneoppositeandnotmorethanone?

Wedidso.

Andweadmittedalsothatwhatwasdoneinoppositewayswasdonebyopposites?

Yes.

And thatwhichwasdone foolishly, aswe further admitted,wasdone in theoppositewaytothatwhichwasdonetemperately?

Yes.

And thatwhichwas done temperatelywas done by temperance, and thatwhichwasdonefoolishlybyfolly?

Heagreed.

Andthatwhichisdoneinoppositewaysisdonebyopposites?

Yes.

Andonethingisdonebytemperance,andquiteanotherthingbyfolly?

Yes.

Andinoppositeways?

Certainly.

Andthereforebyopposites:—thenfollyistheoppositeoftemperance?

Clearly.

And do you remember that folly has already been acknowledged by us to be theoppositeofwisdom?

Heassented.

Andwesaidthateverythinghasonlyoneopposite?

Yes.

Then, Protagoras, which of the two assertions shall we renounce? One says thateverythinghasbutoneopposite; theother thatwisdomisdistinct fromtemperance,andthatbothofthemarepartsofvirtue;andthattheyarenotonlydistinct,butdissimilar,bothinthemselvesandintheirfunctions,likethepartsofaface.Whichofthesetwoassertionsshallwerenounce?Forbothof themtogetherarecertainlynot inharmony; theydonotaccordoragree:forhowcantheybesaidtoagreeifeverythingisassumedtohaveonlyone opposite and not more than one, and yet folly, which is one, has clearly the twoopposites—wisdomand temperance? Is not that true,Protagoras?What elsewould yousay?

Heassented,butwithgreatreluctance.

Thentemperanceandwisdomarethesame,asbeforejusticeandholinessappearedtoustobenearlythesame.Andnow,Protagoras,Isaid,wemustfinishtheenquiry,andnotfaint.Doyouthinkthatanunjustmancanbetemperateinhisinjustice?

Ishouldbeashamed,Socrates,hesaid,toacknowledgethis,whichneverthelessmanymaybefoundtoassert.

AndshallIarguewiththemorwithyou?Ireplied.

Iwouldrather,hesaid,thatyoushouldarguewiththemanyfirst,ifyouwill.

Whichever you please, if youwill only answerme and saywhether you are of theiropinionornot.Myobjectistotestthevalidityoftheargument;andyettheresultmaybethatIwhoaskandyouwhoanswermaybothbeputonourtrial.

Protagoras at first made a show of refusing, as he said that the argument was notencouraging;atlength,heconsentedtoanswer.

Nowthen,Isaid,beginatthebeginningandanswerme.Youthinkthatsomemenaretemperate,andyetunjust?

Yes,hesaid;letthatbeadmitted.

Andtemperanceisgoodsense?

Yes.

Andgoodsenseisgoodcounselindoinginjustice?

Granted.

Iftheysucceed,Isaid,oriftheydonotsucceed?

Iftheysucceed.

Andyouwouldadmittheexistenceofgoods?

Yes.

Andisthegoodthatwhichisexpedientforman?

Yes,indeed,hesaid:andtherearesomethingswhichmaybeinexpedient,andyetIcallthemgood.

I thought that Protagoras was getting ruffled and excited; he seemed to be settinghimselfinanattitudeofwar.Seeingthis,Imindedmybusiness,andgentlysaid:—

Whenyousay,Protagoras,thatthingsinexpedientaregood,doyoumeaninexpedientformanonly,orinexpedientaltogether?anddoyoucallthelattergood?

Certainlynotthelast,hereplied;forIknowofmanythings—meats,drinks,medicines,and ten thousand other things, which are inexpedient for man, and some which areexpedient; and somewhich are neither expedient nor inexpedient forman, but only forhorses;andsomeforoxenonly,andsomefordogs;andsomefornoanimals,butonlyfortrees;andsomefortherootsoftreesandnotfortheirbranches,asforexample,manure,whichisagoodthingwhenlaidabouttherootsofatree,bututterlydestructiveifthrownupontheshootsandyoungbranches;orImayinstanceoliveoil,whichismischievoustoallplants,andgenerallymostinjurioustothehairofeveryanimalwiththeexceptionofman, but beneficial to human hair and to the human body generally; and even in thisapplication (so various and changeable is the nature of the benefit), that which is thegreatestgoodtotheoutwardpartsofaman,isaverygreateviltohisinwardparts:andfor

this reasonphysiciansalways forbid theirpatients theuseofoil in their food,except invery small quantities, just enough to extinguish the disagreeable sensation of smell inmeatsandsauces.

Whenhehadgiven this answer, the company cheeredhim.And I said:Protagoras, Ihaveawretchedmemory,andwhenanyonemakesalongspeechtomeIneverrememberwhatheistalkingabout.Asthen,ifIhadbeendeaf,andyouweregoingtoconversewithme,youwouldhavehadtoraiseyourvoice;sonow,havingsuchabadmemory,Iwillaskyoutocutyouranswersshorter,ifyouwouldtakemewithyou.

Whatdoyoumean?hesaid:howamItoshortenmyanswers?shallImakethemtooshort?

Certainlynot,Isaid.

Butshortenough?

Yes,Isaid.

Shall I answerwhat appears tome tobe short enough, orwhat appears toyou tobeshortenough?

Ihaveheard,Isaid,thatyoucanspeakandteachotherstospeakaboutthesamethingsatsuchlengththatwordsneverseemedtofail,orwithsuchbrevitythatnoonecouldusefewer of them. Please therefore, if you talk with me, to adopt the latter or morecompendiousmethod.

Socrates,he replied,manyabattleofwordshave I fought, and if Ihad followed themethodofdisputationwhichmyadversariesdesired,asyouwantmetodo,Ishouldhavebeennobetterthananother,andthenameofProtagoraswouldhavebeennowhere.

Isawthathewasnotsatisfiedwithhispreviousanswers,andthathewouldnotplaythepartofanswereranymoreifhecouldhelp;andIconsideredthattherewasnocalluponme to continue the conversation; so I said: Protagoras, I do not wish to force theconversationuponyouifyouhadrathernot,butwhenyouarewillingtoarguewithmeinsuchawaythatIcanfollowyou,thenIwillarguewithyou.Nowyou,asissaidofyoubyothersandasyousayofyourself,areabletohavediscussionsinshorterformsofspeechaswell as in longer, for you are amaster of wisdom; but I cannotmanage these longspeeches:IonlywishthatIcould.You,ontheotherhand,whoarecapableofeither,oughtto speak shorter as I beg you, and then we might converse. But I see that you aredisinclined, andas I have an engagementwhichwill preventmy staying tohearyouatgreater length (for I have to be in another place), Iwill depart; although I should havelikedtohaveheardyou.

ThusIspoke,andwasrisingfrommyseat,whenCalliasseizedmebytherighthand,andinhislefthandcaughtholdofthisoldcloakofmine.Hesaid:Wecannotletyougo,Socrates,forifyouleaveustherewillbeanendofourdiscussions:Imustthereforebegyoutoremain,as there isnothingin theworldthatIshouldlikebetter thantohearyouandProtagorasdiscourse.Donotdenythecompanythispleasure.

NowIhadgotup,andwasintheactofdeparture.SonofHipponicus,Ireplied,Ihavealways admired, and do now heartily applaud and love your philosophical spirit, and I

wouldgladlycomplywithyourrequest,ifIcould.ButthetruthisthatIcannot.Andwhatyouask isasgreatan impossibility tome,as ifyoubademe runa racewithCrisonofHimera,wheninhisprime,orwithsomeoneofthelongordaycourserunners.TosucharequestIshouldreplythatIwouldfainaskthesameofmyownlegs;buttheyrefusetocomply.Andthereforeifyouwant toseeCrisonandmeinthesamestadium,youmustbidhimslackenhisspeedtomine,forIcannotrunquickly,andhecanrunslowly.Andinlike manner if you want to hear me and Protagoras discoursing, you must ask him toshortenhisanswers,andkeeptothepoint,ashedidatfirst;ifnot,howcantherebeanydiscussion? For discussion is one thing, andmaking an oration is quite another, inmyhumbleopinion.

Butyousee,Socrates,saidCallias,thatProtagorasmayfairlyclaimtospeakinhisownway,justasyouclaimtospeakinyours.

HereAlcibiadesinterposed,andsaid:That,Callias,isnotatruestatementofthecase.ForourfriendSocratesadmitsthathecannotmakeaspeech—inthisheyieldsthepalmtoProtagoras:butIshouldbegreatlysurprisedifheyieldedtoanylivingmaninthepowerof holding and apprehending an argument. Now if Protagoras will make a similaradmission,andconfessthatheisinferiortoSocratesinargumentativeskill,thatisenoughforSocrates;butifheclaimsasuperiorityinargumentaswell,lethimaskandanswer—not,when a question is asked, slipping away from the point, and instead of answering,makingaspeechatsuchlength thatmostofhishearersforget thequestionat issue(notthatSocratesislikelytoforget—Iwillbeboundforthat,althoughhemaypretendinfunthat he has a bad memory). And Socrates appears to me to be more in the right thanProtagoras;thatismyview,andeverymanoughttosaywhathethinks.

WhenAlcibiadeshaddonespeaking,someone—Critias,Ibelieve—wentontosay:OProdicusandHippias,Calliasappears tome tobeapartisanofProtagoras:and this ledAlcibiades,wholovesopposition, to take theotherside.ButweshouldnotbepartisanseitherofSocratesor ofProtagoras; let us ratherunite in entreatingbothof themnot tobreakupthediscussion.

Prodicusadded:That,Critias,seemstometobewellsaid,forthosewhoarepresentatsuch discussions ought to be impartial hearers of both the speakers; remembering,however,thatimpartialityisnotthesameasequality,forbothsidesshouldbeimpartiallyheard,andyetanequalmeedshouldnotbeassignedtobothofthem;buttothewiserahighermeedshouldbegiven,andalowertothelesswise.AndIaswellasCritiaswouldbegyou,ProtagorasandSocrates,tograntourrequest,whichis,thatyouwillarguewithone another and notwrangle; for friends arguewith friends out of good-will, but onlyadversariesandenemieswrangle.Andthenourmeetingwillbedelightful;forinthiswayyou,whoarethespeakers,willbemostlikelytowinesteem,andnotpraiseonly,amonguswho are your audience; for esteem is a sincere conviction of the hearers’ souls, butpraise is often an insincere expression of men uttering falsehoods contrary to theirconviction. And thus we who are the hearers will be gratified and not pleased; forgratificationisofthemindwhenreceivingwisdomandknowledge,butpleasureisofthebodywheneatingor experiencing someotherbodilydelight.Thus spokeProdicus, andmanyofthecompanyapplaudedhiswords.

Hippias thesagespokenext.Hesaid:Allofyouwhoareherepresent I reckon tobe

kinsmenandfriendsandfellow-citizens,bynatureandnotby law; forbynature like isakintolike,whereaslawisthetyrantofmankind,andoftencompelsustodomanythingswhich are against nature.How greatwould be the disgrace then, ifwe,who know thenatureof things,andare thewisestof theHellenes,andassucharemet together in thiscity,which is themetropolisofwisdom,and in thegreatestandmostglorioushouseofthis city, shouldhavenothing to showworthyof thisheightofdignity,but shouldonlyquarrel with one another like the meanest of mankind! I do pray and advise you,Protagoras,andyou,Socrates,toagreeuponacompromise.Letusbeyourpeacemakers.And do not you, Socrates, aim at this precise and extreme brevity in discourse, ifProtagoras objects, but loosen and let go the reins of speech, that your wordsmay begranderandmorebecomingtoyou.Neitherdoyou,Protagoras,goforthonthegalewitheverysailsetoutofsightoflandintoanoceanofwords,butlettherebeameanobservedbybothofyou.DoasIsay.Andletmealsopersuadeyoutochooseanarbiteroroverseerorpresident;hewillkeepwatchoveryourwordsandwillprescribetheirproperlength.

Thisproposalwasreceivedbythecompanywithuniversalapproval;Calliassaidthathewouldnotletmeoff,andtheybeggedmetochooseanarbiter.ButIsaidthattochooseanumpireofdiscoursewouldbeunseemly; for if theperson chosenwas inferior, then theinferiororworseoughtnot topresideover thebetter;or ifhewasequal,neitherwouldthat be well; for he who is our equal will do as we do, and what will be the use ofchoosing him?And if you say, ‘Let us have a better then,’—to that I answer that youcannothaveanyonewhoiswiserthanProtagoras.Andifyouchooseanotherwhoisnotreallybetter,andwhomyouonlysayisbetter,toputanotheroverhimasthoughhewerean inferior person would be an unworthy reflection on him; not that, as far as I amconcerned,anyreflectionisofmuchconsequencetome.LetmetellyouthenwhatIwilldoinorderthattheconversationanddiscussionmaygoonasyoudesire.IfProtagorasisnotdisposedtoanswer,lethimaskandIwillanswer;andIwillendeavourtoshowatthesame timehow, as Imaintain,heought to answer: andwhen Ihaveansweredasmanyquestionsashelikestoask,lethiminlikemanneranswerme;andifheseemstobenotvery ready at answering the precise question asked of him, you and I will unite inentreatinghim,asyouentreatedme,nottospoilthediscussion.Andthiswillrequirenospecialarbiter—allofyoushallbearbiters.

Thiswasgenerallyapproved,andProtagoras, thoughverymuchagainsthiswill,wasobligedtoagreethathewouldaskquestions;andwhenhehadputasufficientnumberofthem, that he would answer in his turn thosewhich hewas asked in short replies. Hebegantoputhisquestionsasfollows:—

Iamofopinion,Socrates,hesaid,thatskillinpoetryistheprincipalpartofeducation;andthisIconceivetobethepowerofknowingwhatcompositionsofthepoetsarecorrect,andwhatarenot,andhowtheyaretobedistinguished,andofexplainingwhenaskedthereasonofthedifference.AndIproposetotransferthequestionwhichyouandIhavebeendiscussingtothedomainofpoetry;wewillspeakasbeforeofvirtue,butinreferencetoapassageofapoet.NowSimonidessaystoScopasthesonofCreontheThessalian:

‘Hardlyontheonehandcanamanbecometrulygood,builtfour-squareinhandsandfeetandmind,aworkwithoutaflaw.’

Doyouknowthepoem?orshallIrepeatthewhole?

Thereisnoneed,Isaid;forIamperfectlywellacquaintedwiththeode,—Ihavemadeacarefulstudyofit.

Verywell,hesaid.Anddoyouthinkthattheodeisagoodcomposition,andtrue?

Yes,Isaid,bothgoodandtrue.

Butifthereisacontradiction,canthecompositionbegoodortrue?

No,notinthatcase,Ireplied.

Andistherenotacontradiction?heasked.Reflect.

Well,myfriend,Ihavereflected.

Anddoesnotthepoetproceedtosay,‘IdonotagreewiththewordofPittacus,albeittheutteranceofawiseman:Hardlycanamanbegood’?Nowyouwillobservethatthisissaidbythesamepoet.

Iknowit.

Anddoyouthink,hesaid,thatthetwosayingsareconsistent?

Yes, I said, I think so (at the same time I could not help fearing that theremight besomethinginwhathesaid).Andyouthinkotherwise?

Why, he said, how can he be consistent in both? First of all, premising as his ownthought,‘Hardlycanamanbecometrulygood’;andthenalittlefurtheroninthepoem,forgetting, andblamingPittacus and refusing to agreewithhim,whenhe says, ‘Hardlycanamanbegood,’whichistheverysamething.Andyetwhenheblameshimwhosaysthesamewithhimself,heblameshimself;sothathemustbewrongeitherinhisfirstorhissecondassertion.

Manyoftheaudiencecheeredandapplaudedthis.AndIfeltatfirstgiddyandfaint,asifIhadreceivedablowfromthehandofanexpertboxer,whenIheardhiswordsandthesound of the cheering; and to confess the truth, Iwanted to get time to thinkwhat themeaningofthepoetreallywas.SoIturnedtoProdicusandcalledhim.Prodicus,Isaid,Simonidesisacountrymanofyours,andyououghttocometohisaid.Imustappealtoyou, like the riverScamander inHomer,who,whenbeleagueredbyAchilles, summonstheSimoistoaidhim,saying:

‘Brotherdear,letusbothtogetherstaytheforceofthehero(Il.).’

And I summon you, for I am afraid that Protagoraswillmake an end of Simonides.Now is the time to rehabilitate Simonides, by the application of your philosophy ofsynonyms,whichenablesyoutodistinguish‘will’and‘wish,’andmakeothercharmingdistinctionslikethosewhichyoudrewjustnow.AndIshouldliketoknowwhetheryouwouldagreewithme; for Iamofopinion that there isnocontradiction in thewordsofSimonides.AndfirstofallIwishthatyouwouldsaywhether,inyouropinion,Prodicus,‘being’isthesameas‘becoming.’

Notthesame,certainly,repliedProdicus.

DidnotSimonidesfirstsetforth,ashisownview,that‘Hardlycanamanbecometrulygood’?

Quiteright,saidProdicus.

AndthenheblamesPittacus,not,asProtagoras imagines,forrepeatingthatwhichhesays himself, but for saying something different from himself. Pittacus does not say asSimonidessays,thathardlycanamanbecomegood,buthardlycanamanbegood:andourfriendProdicuswouldmaintainthatbeing,Protagoras,isnotthesameasbecoming;andif theyarenot thesame, thenSimonidesisnot inconsistentwithhimself.IdaresaythatProdicusandmanyotherswouldsay,asHesiodsays,

‘Ontheonehand,hardlycanamanbecomegood,

Forthegodshavemadevirtuetherewardoftoil,

Butontheotherhand,whenyouhaveclimbedtheheight,

Then,toretainvirtue,howeverdifficulttheacquisition,iseasy

—(WorksandDays).’

Prodicusheardandapproved;butProtagorassaid:Yourcorrection,Socrates,involvesagreatererrorthaniscontainedinthesentencewhichyouarecorrecting.

Alas! Isaid,Protagoras; thenIamasorryphysician,anddobutaggravateadisorderwhichIamseekingtocure.

Suchisthefact,hesaid.

Howso?Iasked.

Thepoet,hereplied,couldneverhavemadesuchamistakeastosaythatvirtue,whichintheopinionofallmenisthehardestofallthings,canbeeasilyretained.

Well, I said, and how fortunate are we in having Prodicus among us, at the rightmoment;forhehasawisdom,Protagoras,which,asIimagine,ismorethanhumanandofveryancientdate,andmaybeasoldasSimonidesorevenolder.Learnedasyouare inmanythings,youappeartoknownothingof this;butIknow,forIamadiscipleofhis.Andnow,ifIamnotmistaken,youdonotunderstandtheword‘hard’(chalepon)inthesensewhichSimonidesintended;andImustcorrectyou,asProdicuscorrectsmewhenIusetheword‘awful’(deinon)asatermofpraise.IfIsaythatProtagorasoranyoneelseisan ‘awfully’ wiseman, he asksme if I am not ashamed of calling that which is good‘awful’;andthenheexplainstomethattheterm‘awful’isalwaystakeninabadsense,andthatnoonespeaksofbeing‘awfully’healthyorwealthy,orof‘awful’peace,butof‘awful’ disease, ‘awful’war, ‘awful’ poverty,meaning by the term ‘awful,’ evil. And Ithink that Simonides and his countrymen the Ceans, when they spoke of ‘hard’ meant‘evil,’orsomethingwhichyoudonotunderstand.LetusaskProdicus,forheoughttobeabletoanswerquestionsaboutthedialectofSimonides.Whatdidhemean,Prodicus,bytheterm‘hard’?

Evil,saidProdicus.

Andtherefore,Isaid,Prodicus,heblamesPittacusforsaying,‘Hardisthegood,’justasifthatwereequivalenttosaying,Evilisthegood.

Yes,hesaid,thatwascertainlyhismeaning;andheistwittingPittacuswithignoranceoftheuseof terms,whichinaLesbian,whohasbeenaccustomedtospeakabarbarouslanguage,isnatural.

Doyouhear,Protagoras,Iasked,whatourfriendProdicusissaying?Andhaveyouananswerforhim?

You are entirely mistaken, Prodicus, said Protagoras; and I know very well thatSimonidesinusingtheword‘hard’meantwhatallofusmean,notevil,butthatwhichisnoteasy—thatwhichtakesagreatdealoftrouble:ofthisIampositive.

Isaid:Ialsoinclinetobelieve,Protagoras,thatthiswasthemeaningofSimonides,ofwhichourfriendProdicuswasverywellaware,buthethoughtthathewouldmakefun,andtryifyoucouldmaintainyourthesis;forthatSimonidescouldneverhavemeanttheotherisclearlyprovedbythecontext,inwhichhesaysthatGodonlyhasthisgift.Nowhecannotsurelymeantosaythattobegoodisevil,whenheafterwardsproceedstosaythatGodonlyhasthisgift,andthatthisistheattributeofhimandofnoother.Forifthisbehismeaning,ProdicuswouldimputetoSimonidesacharacterofrecklessnesswhichisveryunlikehiscountrymen.AndIshouldliketotellyou,Isaid,whatIimaginetobetherealmeaningofSimonidesinthispoem,ifyouwilltestwhat,inyourwayofspeaking,wouldbecalledmyskillinpoetry;orifyouwouldrather,Iwillbethelistener.

To this proposal Protagoras replied: As you please;—andHippias, Prodicus, and theotherstoldmebyallmeanstodoasIproposed.

Thennow, I said, Iwill endeavour to explain to youmyopinion about this poemofSimonides. There is a very ancient philosophy which is more cultivated in Crete andLacedaemon than in anyother part ofHellas, and there aremore philosophers in thosecountries than anywhere else in the world. This, however, is a secret which theLacedaemoniansdeny;andtheypretendtobeignorant,justbecausetheydonotwishtohaveitthoughtthattheyruletheworldbywisdom,liketheSophistsofwhomProtagoraswasspeaking,andnotbyvalourofarms;consideringthatifthereasonoftheirsuperiorityweredisclosed, allmenwouldbepractising theirwisdom.And this secret of theirs hasneverbeendiscoveredbytheimitatorsofLacedaemonianfashionsinothercities,whogoaboutwith their ears bruised in imitation of them, and have the caestus boundon theirarms,andarealwaysintraining,andwearshortcloaks;fortheyimaginethatthesearethepracticeswhich have enabled the Lacedaemonians to conquer the otherHellenes. NowwhentheLacedaemonianswanttounbendandholdfreeconversationwiththeirwisemen,andarenolongersatisfiedwithmeresecretintercourse,theydriveoutalltheselaconizers,and any other foreigners who may happen to be in their country, and they hold aphilosophicalseanceunknowntostrangers;andtheythemselvesforbidtheiryoungmentogo out into other cities—in this they are like the Cretans—in order that they may notunlearnthelessonswhichtheyhavetaughtthem.AndinLacedaemonandCretenotonlymenbutalsowomenhaveaprideintheirhighcultivation.AndherebyyoumayknowthatI am right in attributing to the Lacedaemonians this excellence in philosophy andspeculation:IfamanconverseswiththemostordinaryLacedaemonian,hewillfindhimseldomgoodformuchingeneralconversation,butatanypointinthediscoursehewillbedarting out some notable saying, terse and full ofmeaning,with unerring aim; and thepersonwithwhomhe is talkingseems tobe likeachild inhishands.AndmanyofourownageandofformerageshavenotedthatthetrueLacedaemoniantypeofcharacterhastheloveofphilosophyevenstrongerthantheloveofgymnastics;theyareconsciousthatonlyaperfectlyeducatedmaniscapableofutteringsuchexpressions.SuchwereThalesof Miletus, and Pittacus of Mitylene, and Bias of Priene, and our own Solon, andCleobulustheLindian,andMysontheChenian;andseventhinthecatalogueofwisemenwas theLacedaemonianChilo.All thesewere loversandemulatorsanddisciplesof the

cultureof theLacedaemonians,andanyonemayperceivethat theirwisdomwasof thischaracter; consisting of short memorable sentences, which they severally uttered. Andtheymet together anddedicated in the templeofApollo atDelphi, as the first-fruits oftheirwisdom,thefar-famedinscriptions,whichareinallmen’smouths—‘Knowthyself,’and‘Nothingtoomuch.’

WhydoIsayallthis?IamexplainingthatthisLacedaemonianbrevitywasthestyleofprimitivephilosophy.NowtherewasasayingofPittacuswhichwasprivatelycirculatedandreceivedtheapprobationofthewise,‘Hardisittobegood.’AndSimonides,whowasambitiousofthefameofwisdom,wasawarethatifhecouldoverthrowthissaying,then,asifhehadwonavictoryoversomefamousathlete,hewouldcarryoffthepalmamonghis contemporaries. And if I am not mistaken, he composed the entire poem with thesecretintentionofdamagingPittacusandhissaying.

Let us all unite in examining his words, and see whether I am speaking the truth.Simonidesmusthavebeenalunatic,if,intheveryfirstwordsofthepoem,wantingtosayonlythattobecomegoodishard,heinserted(Greek)‘ontheonehand’(‘ontheonehandtobecomegoodishard’);therewouldbenoreasonfortheintroductionof(Greek),unlessyou suppose him to speakwith a hostile reference to thewords of Pittacus. Pittacus issaying‘Hardisittobegood,’andhe,inrefutationofthisthesis,rejoinsthatthetrulyhardthing,Pittacus, is tobecomegood,not joining ‘truly’with ‘good,’ butwith ‘hard.’Not,that thehard thing is tobe trulygood, as though therewere some trulygoodmen, andthere were others who were good but not truly good (this would be a very simpleobservation, and quite unworthy of Simonides); but you must suppose him to make atrajectionof theword ‘truly’ (Greek), construing the sayingofPittacus thus (and let usimagine Pittacus to be speaking and Simonides answering him): ‘O my friends,’ saysPittacus, ‘hard is it to be good,’ and Simonides answers, ‘In that, Pittacus, you aremistaken; the difficulty is not to be good, but on the one hand, to become good, four-squareinhandsandfeetandmind,withoutaflaw—thatishardtruly.’Thiswayofreadingthepassageaccountsfortheinsertionof(Greek)‘ontheonehand,’andforthepositionattheendoftheclauseoftheword‘truly,’andallthatfollowsshowsthistobethemeaning.Agreatdealmightbesaidinpraiseofthedetailsofthepoem,whichisacharmingpieceofworkmanship, and very finished, but suchminutiaewould be tedious. I should like,however, to point out the general intention of the poem,which is certainly designed ineveryparttobearefutationofthesayingofPittacus.Forhespeaksinwhatfollowsalittlefurtheronasifhemeanttoarguethatalthoughthereisadifficultyinbecominggood,yetthis ispossiblefora time,andonlyfora time.Buthavingbecomegood, toremaininagoodstateandbegood,asyou,Pittacus,affirm,isnotpossible,andisnotgrantedtoman;God only has this blessing; ‘but man cannot help being bad when the force ofcircumstancesoverpowershim.’Nowwhomdoestheforceofcircumstanceoverpowerinthecommandofavessel?—nottheprivateindividual,forheisalwaysoverpowered;andasonewhoisalreadyprostratecannotbeoverthrown,andonlyhewhoisstandinguprightbutnothewhoisprostratecanbe laidprostrate,so theforceofcircumstancescanonlyoverpowerhimwho,atsometimeorother,hasresources,andnothimwhoisatalltimeshelpless.Thedescentofagreatstormmaymakethepilothelpless,ortheseverityoftheseasonthehusbandmanor thephysician;for thegoodmaybecomebad,asanotherpoetwitnesses:—

‘Thegoodaresometimesgoodandsometimesbad.’

But the bad does not become bad; he is always bad. So that when the force ofcircumstancesoverpowersthemanofresourcesandskillandvirtue,thenhecannothelpbeingbad.Andyou,Pittacus,aresaying,‘Hardisittobegood.’Nowthereisadifficultyinbecominggood;andyetthisispossible:buttobegoodisanimpossibility—

‘Forhewhodoeswellisthegoodman,andhewhodoesillisthebad.’

Butwhatsortofdoingisgoodinletters?andwhatsortofdoingmakesamangoodinletters?Clearly theknowingof them.Andwhatsortofwell-doingmakesamanagoodphysician?Clearlytheknowledgeoftheartofhealingthesick.‘Buthewhodoesillisthebad.’Nowwhobecomesabadphysician?Clearlyhewhoisinthefirstplaceaphysician,andinthesecondplaceagoodphysician;forhemaybecomeabadonealso:butnoneofusunskilledindividualscanbyanyamountofdoingillbecomephysicians,anymorethanwecanbecomecarpentersoranythingofthatsort;andhewhobydoingillcannotbecomeaphysicianatall, clearlycannotbecomeabadphysician. In likemanner thegoodmaybecomedeterioratedbytime,ortoil,ordisease,orotheraccident(theonlyrealdoingillistobedeprivedofknowledge),but thebadmanwillneverbecomebad,forhe isalwaysbad;andifheweretobecomebad,hemustpreviouslyhavebeengood.Thusthewordsofthepoemtendtoshowthatontheonehandamancannotbecontinuouslygood,butthathemaybecomegoodandmayalsobecomebad;andagainthat

‘Theyarethebestforthelongesttimewhomthegodslove.’

AllthisrelatestoPittacus,asisfurtherprovedbythesequel.Forheadds:—

‘ThereforeIwillnot throwawaymyspanof life tonopurpose insearchingafter theimpossible,hopinginvaintofindaperfectlyfaultlessmanamongthosewhopartakeofthefruitofthebroad-bosomedearth:ifIfindhim,Iwillsendyouword.’

(thisisthevehementwayinwhichhepursueshisattackuponPittacusthroughoutthewholepoem):

‘But him who does no evil, voluntarily I praise and love;—not even the gods waragainstnecessity.’

Allthishasasimilardrift,forSimonideswasnotsoignorantastosaythathepraisedthosewhodidnoevilvoluntarily,asthoughthereweresomewhodidevilvoluntarily.Fornowiseman,asIbelieve,willallowthatanyhumanbeingerrsvoluntarily,orvoluntarilydoesevilanddishonourableactions;buttheyareverywellawarethatallwhodoevilanddishonourablethingsdothemagainsttheirwill.AndSimonidesneversaysthathepraiseshimwhodoesnoevilvoluntarily; theword ‘voluntarily’applies tohimself.Forhewasunder the impression that a good man might often compel himself to love and praiseanother, and to be the friend and approver of another; and that there might be aninvoluntarylove,suchasamanmightfeeltoanunnaturalfatherormother,orcountry,orthelike.Nowbadmen,whentheirparentsorcountryhaveanydefects,lookonthemwithmalignantjoy,andfindfaultwiththemandexposeanddenouncethemtoothers,undertheideathattherestofmankindwillbelesslikelytotakethemselvestotaskandaccusethemofneglect;andtheyblametheirdefectsfarmorethantheydeserve,inorderthattheodiumwhichisnecessarilyincurredbythemmaybeincreased:butthegoodmandissembleshis

feelings,andconstrainshimself topraise them;and if theyhavewrongedhimandhe isangry,hepacifieshisangerandisreconciled,andcompelshimselftoloveandpraisehisownfleshandblood.AndSimonides,asisprobable,consideredthathehimselfhadoftenhadtopraiseandmagnifyatyrantorthelike,muchagainsthiswill,andhealsowishestoimplytoPittacusthathedoesnotcensurehimbecauseheiscensorious.

‘ForIamsatisfied’hesays,‘whenamanisneitherbadnorverystupid;andwhenheknowsjustice(whichisthehealthofstates),andisofsoundmind,Iwillfindnofaultwithhim,forIamnotgiventofindingfault,andthereareinnumerablefools’

(implyingthatifhedelightedincensurehemighthaveabundantopportunityoffindingfault).

‘Allthingsaregoodwithwhichevilisunmingled.’

Intheselatterwordshedoesnotmeantosaythatallthingsaregoodwhichhavenoevilin them, as youmight say ‘All things arewhitewhichhavenoblack in them,’ for thatwould be ridiculous; but he means to say that he accepts and finds no fault with themoderateorintermediatestate.

(‘Idonothope’hesays,‘tofindaperfectlyblamelessmanamongthosewhopartakeofthefruitsofthebroad-bosomedearth(ifIfindhim,Iwillsendyouword);inthissenseIpraisenoman.Buthewhoismoderatelygood,anddoesnoevil,isgoodenoughforme,wholoveandapproveeveryone’)

(and here observe that he uses a Lesbian word, epainemi (approve), because he isaddressingPittacus,

‘WholoveandAPPROVEeveryoneVOLUNTARILY,whodoesnoevil:”

and that the stop should be put after ‘voluntarily’); ‘but there are some whom Iinvoluntarilypraiseandlove.Andyou,Pittacus,Iwouldneverhaveblamed, ifyouhadspokenwhatwasmoderatelygoodand true;but Idoblameyoubecause,puttingon theappearanceoftruth,youarespeakingfalselyaboutthehighestmatters.’—Andthis,Isaid,ProdicusandProtagoras,ItaketobethemeaningofSimonidesinthispoem.

Hippias said: I think, Socrates, that you have given a very good explanation of thepoem;butIhavealsoanexcellentinterpretationofmyownwhichIwillpropoundtoyou,ifyouwillallowme.

Nay,Hippias, saidAlcibiades; not now, but at some other time.At presentwemustabidebythecompactwhichwasmadebetweenSocratesandProtagoras,totheeffectthataslongasProtagorasiswillingtoask,Socratesshouldanswer;orthatifhewouldratheranswer,thenthatSocratesshouldask.

I said: IwishProtagoraseither toaskor answerashe is inclined;but Iwould ratherhave donewith poems and odes, if he does not object, and come back to the questionaboutwhichIwasaskingyouatfirst,Protagoras,andbyyourhelpmakeanendofthat.Thetalkaboutthepoetsseemstomelikeacommonplaceentertainmenttowhichavulgarcompanyhaverecourse;who,becausetheyarenotabletoconverseoramuseoneanother,whiletheyaredrinking,withthesoundoftheirownvoicesandconversation,byreasonoftheirstupidity,raisethepriceofflute-girlsinthemarket,hiringforagreatsumthevoiceofaflute insteadof theirownbreath, tobe themediumof intercourseamongthem:butwherethecompanyarerealgentlemenandmenofeducation,youwillseenoflute-girls,nordancing-girls,norharp-girls;andtheyhavenononsenseorgames,butarecontentedwithone another’s conversation,ofwhich their ownvoices are themedium, andwhichtheycarryonbyturnsandinanorderlymanner,eventhoughtheyareveryliberalintheirpotations.And a company like this of ours, andmen such aswe profess to be, do notrequirethehelpofanother’svoice,orofthepoetswhomyoucannotinterrogateaboutthemeaningofwhattheyaresaying;peoplewhocitethemdeclaring,somethatthepoethasonemeaning,andothersthathehasanother,andthepointwhichisindisputecanneverbedecided.Thissortofentertainmenttheydecline,andprefertotalkwithoneanother,andputoneanothertotheproofinconversation.AndthesearethemodelswhichIdesirethatyouandIshouldimitate.Leavingthepoets,andkeepingtoourselves,letustrythemettleofoneanotherandmakeproofofthetruthinconversation.Ifyouhaveamindtoask,Iamready toanswer;or ifyouwouldrather,doyouanswer,andgiveme theopportunityofresumingandcompletingourunfinishedargument.

Imade these and some similar observations; but Protagoraswould not distinctly saywhich hewould do. ThereuponAlcibiades turned to Callias, and said:—Do you think,Callias,thatProtagorasisfairinrefusingtosaywhetherhewillorwillnotanswer?forIcertainlythinkthatheisunfair;heoughteithertoproceedwiththeargument,ordistinctlyrefuse to proceed, that we may know his intention; and then Socrates will be able todiscoursewithsomeoneelse,and the restof thecompanywillbe free to talkwithoneanother.

I think that Protagoras was reallymade ashamed by these words of Alcibiades, andwhentheprayersofCalliasandthecompanyweresuperadded,hewasatlastinducedtoargue,andsaidthatImightaskandhewouldanswer.

SoIsaid:Donotimagine,Protagoras,thatIhaveanyotherinterestinaskingquestionsofyoubutthatofclearingupmyowndifficulties.ForIthinkthatHomerwasveryrightinsayingthat

‘Whentwogotogether,oneseesbeforetheother(Il.),’

forallmenwhohaveacompanionarereadierindeed,word,orthought;butifaman‘Seesathingwhenheisalone,’

hegoesaboutstraightwayseekinguntilhefindssomeonetowhomhemayshowhisdiscoveries,andwhomayconfirmhiminthem.AndIwouldratherholddiscoursewithyou thanwith anyone, because I think that nomanhas abetter understandingofmostthingswhichagoodmanmaybeexpectedtounderstand,andinparticularofvirtue.Forwhoisthere,butyou?—whonotonlyclaimtobeagoodmanandagentleman,formanyare this, andyethavenot thepowerofmakingothersgood—whereasyouarenotonlygoodyourself,butalsothecauseofgoodnessinothers.Moreoversuchconfidencehaveyouinyourself,thatalthoughotherSophistsconcealtheirprofession,youproclaiminthefaceofHellasthatyouareaSophistorteacherofvirtueandeducation,andarethefirstwho demanded pay in return. How then can I do otherwise than invite you to theexamination of these subjects, and ask questions and consultwith you? Imust, indeed.And I should likeoncemore tohavemymemory refreshedbyyouabout thequestionswhichIwasaskingyouatfirst,andalsotohaveyourhelpinconsideringthem.IfIamnotmistakenthequestionwasthis:Arewisdomandtemperanceandcourageandjusticeandholiness five names of the same thing? or has each of the names a separate underlyingessenceandcorrespondingthinghavingapeculiarfunction,nooneofthembeinglikeanyotherofthem?Andyourepliedthatthefivenameswerenotthenamesofthesamething,butthateachofthemhadaseparateobject,andthatalltheseobjectswerepartsofvirtue,notinthesamewaythatthepartsofgoldarelikeeachotherandthewholeofwhichtheyareparts,butasthepartsofthefaceareunlikethewholeofwhichtheyarepartsandoneanother,andhaveeachofthemadistinctfunction.Ishouldliketoknowwhetherthisisstillyouropinion;orifnot,Iwillaskyoutodefineyourmeaning,andIshallnottakeyoutotaskifyounowmakeadifferentstatement.ForIdaresaythatyoumayhavesaidwhatyoudidonlyinordertomaketrialofme.

Ianswer,Socrates,hesaid,thatallthesequalitiesarepartsofvirtue,andthatfouroutofthe fiveare to someextent similar, and that the fifthof them,which iscourage, isverydifferentfromtheotherfour,asIproveinthisway:Youmayobservethatmanymenareutterly unrighteous, unholy, intemperate, ignorant, who are nevertheless remarkable fortheircourage.

Stop, I said; I should like to thinkabout that.Whenyouspeakofbravemen,doyoumeantheconfident,oranothersortofnature?

Yes, he said; I mean the impetuous, ready to go at that which others are afraid toapproach.

Inthenextplace,youwouldaffirmvirtuetobeagoodthing,ofwhichgoodthingyou

assertyourselftobeateacher.

Yes,hesaid;Ishouldsaythebestofallthings,ifIaminmyrightmind.

Andisitpartlygoodandpartlybad,Isaid,orwhollygood?

Whollygood,andinthehighestdegree.

Tellmethen;whoaretheywhohaveconfidencewhendivingintoawell?

Ishouldsay,thedivers.

Andthereasonofthisisthattheyhaveknowledge?

Yes,thatisthereason.

Andwho have confidencewhen fighting on horseback—the skilled horseman or theunskilled?

Theskilled.

Andwhowhenfightingwithlightshields—thepeltastsorthenonpeltasts?

Thepeltasts.Andthatistrueofallotherthings,hesaid,ifthatisyourpoint:thosewhohaveknowledgearemoreconfidentthanthosewhohavenoknowledge,andtheyaremoreconfidentaftertheyhavelearnedthanbefore.

And have you not seen persons utterly ignorant, I said, of these things, and yetconfidentaboutthem?

Yes,hesaid,Ihaveseensuchpersonsfartooconfident.

Andarenottheseconfidentpersonsalsocourageous?

In thatcase,he replied,couragewouldbeabase thing, for themenofwhomwearespeakingaresurelymadmen.

Thenwhoarethecourageous?Aretheynottheconfident?

Yes,hesaid;tothatstatementIadhere.

Andthose,Isaid,whoarethusconfidentwithoutknowledgearereallynotcourageous,but mad; and in that case the wisest are also the most confident, and being the mostconfidentarealsothebravest,anduponthatviewagainwisdomwillbecourage.

Nay,Socrates,hereplied,youaremistakeninyourremembranceofwhatwassaidbyme.Whenyouaskedme,Icertainlydidsaythat thecourageousaretheconfident;butIwasneveraskedwhethertheconfidentarethecourageous;ifyouhadaskedme,Ishouldhaveanswered‘Notallofthem’:andwhatIdidansweryouhavenotprovedtobefalse,although you proceeded to show that thosewho have knowledge aremore courageousthantheywerebeforetheyhadknowledge,andmorecourageousthanotherswhohavenoknowledge,andwerethenledontothinkthatcourageisthesameaswisdom.Butinthiswayofarguingyoumightcometoimaginethatstrengthiswisdom.Youmightbeginbyaskingwhether thestrongareable,andIshouldsay‘Yes’;and thenwhether thosewhoknowhow towrestle arenotmore able towrestle than thosewhodonotknowhow towrestle,andmoreableafterthanbeforetheyhadlearned,andIshouldassent.AndwhenIhadadmittedthis,youmightusemyadmissionsinsuchawayastoprovethatuponmy

viewwisdomisstrength;whereasinthatcaseIshouldnothaveadmitted,anymorethanintheother,thattheablearestrong,althoughIhaveadmittedthatthestrongareable.Forthere is a difference between ability and strength; the former is givenby knowledge aswell as bymadness or rage, but strength comes from nature and a healthy state of thebody.AndinlikemannerIsayofconfidenceandcourage,thattheyarenotthesame;andI argue that the courageous are confident, but not all the confident courageous. Forconfidencemaybegiven tomenbyart,andalso, likeability,bymadnessandrage;butcouragecomestothemfromnatureandthehealthystateofthesoul.

Isaid:Youwouldadmit,Protagoras,thatsomemenlivewellandothersill?

Heassented.

Anddoyouthinkthatamanliveswellwholivesinpainandgrief?

Hedoesnot.

Butifhelivespleasantlytotheendofhislife,willhenotinthatcasehavelivedwell?

Hewill.

Thentolivepleasantlyisagood,andtoliveunpleasantlyanevil?

Yes,hesaid,ifthepleasurebegoodandhonourable.

Anddoyou,Protagoras, like the restof theworld,call somepleasant thingsevilandsomepainfulthingsgood?—forIamratherdisposedtosaythatthingsaregoodinasfarastheyarepleasant,iftheyhavenoconsequencesofanothersort,andinasfarastheyarepainfultheyarebad.

I do not know, Socrates, he said, whether I can venture to assert in that unqualifiedmannerthatthepleasantisthegoodandthepainfultheevil.Havingregardnotonlytomypresentanswer,butalsotothewholeofmylife,Ishallbesafer,ifIamnotmistaken,insaying that there are somepleasant thingswhich are not good, and that there are somepainful thingswhich are good, and somewhich are not good, and that there are somewhichareneithergoodnorevil.

Andyouwouldcallpleasant, Isaid, the thingswhichparticipate inpleasureorcreatepleasure?

Certainly,hesaid.

Thenmymeaningis,thatinasfarastheyarepleasanttheyaregood;andmyquestionwouldimplythatpleasureisagoodinitself.

According to your favouritemode of speech, Socrates, ‘Let us reflect about this,’ hesaid;andifthereflectionistothepoint,andtheresultprovesthatpleasureandgoodarereallythesame,thenwewillagree;butifnot,thenwewillargue.

Andwouldyouwishtobegintheenquiry?Isaid;orshallIbegin?

Yououghttotakethelead,hesaid;foryouaretheauthorofthediscussion.

MayIemployanillustration?Isaid.Supposesomeonewhoisenquiringintothehealthorsomeotherbodilyqualityofanother:—helooksathisfaceandatthetipsofhisfingers,andthenhesays,UncoveryourchestandbacktomethatImayhaveabetterview:—that

is thesortof thingwhichIdesire in thisspeculation.Havingseenwhatyouropinion isabout good and pleasure, I am minded to say to you: Uncover your mind to me,Protagoras,andrevealyouropinionaboutknowledge,thatImayknowwhetheryouagreewiththerestof theworld.Nowtherestof theworldareofopinionthatknowledgeisaprinciplenotofstrength,orofrule,orofcommand:theirnotionisthatamanmayhaveknowledge,andyetthattheknowledgewhichisinhimmaybeovermasteredbyanger,orpleasure, or pain, or love, or perhaps by fear,—just as if knowledgewere a slave, andmightbedraggedaboutanyhow.Nowisthatyourview?ordoyouthinkthatknowledgeisanobleandcommandingthing,whichcannotbeovercome,andwillnotallowaman,ifheonly knows the difference of good and evil, to do anything which is contrary toknowledge,butthatwisdomwillhavestrengthtohelphim?

Iagreewithyou,Socrates,saidProtagoras;andnotonlyso,butI,aboveallothermen,amboundtosaythatwisdomandknowledgearethehighestofhumanthings.

Good,Isaid,andtrue.Butareyouawarethatthemajorityoftheworldareofanothermind;andthatmenarecommonlysupposedtoknowthethingswhicharebest,andnottodothemwhentheymight?AndmostpersonswhomIhaveaskedthereasonofthishavesaidthatwhenmenactcontrarytoknowledgetheyareovercomebypain,orpleasure,orsomeofthoseaffectionswhichIwasjustnowmentioning.

Yes, Socrates, he replied; and that is not the only point aboutwhichmankind are inerror.

Suppose,then,thatyouandIendeavourtoinstructandinformthemwhatisthenatureofthisaffectionwhichtheycall‘beingovercomebypleasure,’andwhichtheyaffirmtobethereasonwhytheydonotalwaysdowhatisbest.Whenwesaytothem:Friends,youaremistaken, and are saying what is not true, they would probably reply: Socrates andProtagoras, if thisaffectionofthesoulisnottobecalled‘beingovercomebypleasure,’pray,whatisit,andbywhatnamewouldyoudescribeit?

Butwhy,Socrates,shouldwetroubleourselvesabouttheopinionofthemany,whojustsayanythingthathappenstooccurtothem?

Ibelieve,Isaid,thattheymaybeofuseinhelpingustodiscoverhowcourageisrelatedto theotherpartsofvirtue.Ifyouaredisposedtoabidebyouragreement, thatIshouldshowthewayinwhich,asIthink,ourrecentdifficultyismostlikelytobeclearedup,doyoufollow;butifnot,nevermind.

Youarequiteright,hesaid;andIwouldhaveyouproceedasyouhavebegun.

Wellthen,Isaid,letmesupposethattheyrepeattheirquestion,Whataccountdoyougive of that which, in our way of speaking, is termed being overcome by pleasure? Ishouldanswerthus:Listen,andProtagorasandIwillendeavourtoshowyou.Whenmenare overcome by eating and drinking and other sensual desireswhich are pleasant, andthey,knowingthemtobeevil,neverthelessindulgeinthem,wouldyounotsaythattheywereovercomebypleasure?Theywillnotdenythis.AndsupposethatyouandIweretogoonandaskthemagain:‘Inwhatwaydoyousaythat theyareevil,—inthat theyarepleasantandgivepleasureatthemoment,orbecausetheycausediseaseandpovertyandother like evils in the future? Would they still be evil, if they had no attendant evilconsequences, simply because they give the consciousness of pleasure of whatever

nature?’—Wouldtheynotanswerthattheyarenotevilonaccountofthepleasurewhichisimmediatelygivenby them,butonaccountof theafterconsequences—diseasesand thelike?

Ibelieve,saidProtagoras,thattheworldingeneralwouldanswerasyoudo.

And in causing diseases do they not cause pain? and in causing poverty do they notcausepain;—theywouldagreetothatalso,ifIamnotmistaken?

Protagorasassented.

ThenIshouldsaytothem,inmynameandyours:Doyouthinkthemevilforanyotherreason,exceptbecausetheyendinpainandrobusofotherpleasures:—thereagaintheywouldagree?

Webothofusthoughtthattheywould.

AndthenIshouldtakethequestionfromtheoppositepointofview,andsay:‘Friends,when you speak of goods being painful, do you not mean remedial goods, such asgymnastic exercises, and military service, and the physician’s use of burning, cutting,drugging, and starving?Are these the thingswhicharegoodbutpainful?’—theywouldassenttome?

Heagreed.

‘Anddoyoucallthemgoodbecausetheyoccasionthegreatestimmediatesufferingandpain;orbecause,afterwards, theybringhealthand improvementof thebodilyconditionandthesalvationofstatesandpoweroverothersandwealth?’—theywouldagreetothelatteralternative,ifIamnotmistaken?

Heassented.

‘Arethesethingsgoodforanyotherreasonexceptthattheyendinpleasure,andgetridofandavertpain?Areyoulookingtoanyotherstandardbutpleasureandpainwhenyoucallthemgood?’—theywouldacknowledgethattheywerenot?

Ithinkso,saidProtagoras.

‘Anddoyounotpursueafterpleasureasagood,andavoidpainasanevil?’

Heassented.

‘Thenyouthinkthatpainisanevilandpleasureisagood:andevenpleasureyoudeemanevil,whenitrobsyouofgreaterpleasuresthanitgives,orcausespainsgreaterthanthepleasure.If,however,youcallpleasureanevilinrelationtosomeotherendorstandard,youwillbeabletoshowusthatstandard.Butyouhavenonetoshow.’

Idonotthinkthattheyhave,saidProtagoras.

‘Andhaveyounotasimilarwayofspeakingaboutpain?Youcallpainagoodwhenittakesawaygreaterpainsthanthosewhichithas,orgivespleasuresgreaterthanthepains:thenifyouhavesomestandardotherthanpleasureandpaintowhichyoureferwhenyoucallactualpainagood,youcanshowwhatthatis.Butyoucannot.’

True,saidProtagoras.

Supposeagain,Isaid,thattheworldsaystome:‘Whydoyouspendmanywordsandspeakinmanywaysonthissubject?’Excuseme,friends,Ishouldreply;butinthefirstplace there is a difficulty in explaining the meaning of the expression ‘overcome bypleasure’;andthewholeargumentturnsuponthis.Andevennow,ifyouseeanypossiblewayinwhichevilcanbeexplainedasotherthanpain,orgoodasotherthanpleasure,youmaystillretract.Areyousatisfied,then,athavingalifeofpleasurewhichiswithoutpain?Ifyouare,andifyouareunabletoshowanygoodorevilwhichdoesnotendinpleasureandpain, hear the consequences:—Ifwhat you say is true, then the argument is absurdwhichaffirmsthatamanoftendoesevilknowingly,whenhemightabstain,becauseheisseduced and overpowered by pleasure; or again, when you say that a man knowinglyrefusestodowhatisgoodbecauseheisovercomeatthemomentbypleasure.Andthatthis is ridiculouswill be evident if onlywe give up the use of various names, such aspleasantandpainful,andgoodandevil.Astherearetwothings,letuscallthembytwonames—first,goodandevil,andthenpleasantandpainful.Assumingthis,letusgoontosaythatamandoesevilknowingthathedoesevil.Butsomeonewillask,Why?Becauseheisovercome,isthefirstanswer.Andbywhatisheovercome?theenquirerwillproceedtoask.Andweshallnotbeabletoreply‘Bypleasure,’forthenameofpleasurehasbeenexchangedfor thatofgood. Inouranswer, then,weshallonlysay thathe isovercome.‘Bywhat?’hewillreiterate.Bythegood,weshallhavetoreply;indeedweshall.Nay,butourquestionerwillrejoinwitha laugh, ifhebeoneof theswaggeringsort, ‘That is tooridiculous,thatamanshoulddowhatheknowstobeevilwhenheoughtnot,becauseheisovercomebygood.Isthat,hewillask,becausethegoodwasworthyornotworthyofconquering the evil’?And in answer to thatwe shall clearly reply, Because it was notworthy; for if it had beenworthy, then hewho, aswe say,was overcome by pleasure,wouldnothavebeenwrong.‘Buthow,’hewill reply,‘canthegoodbeunworthyof theevil,ortheevilofthegood’?Isnottherealexplanationthattheyareoutofproportiontooneanother,eitherasgreaterandsmaller,ormoreandfewer?Thiswecannotdeny.Andwhen you speak of being overcome—‘what do you mean,’ he will say, ‘but that youchoosethegreaterevilinexchangeforthelessergood?’Admitted.Andnowsubstitutethenamesofpleasureandpainforgoodandevil,andsay,notasbefore,thatamandoeswhatisevilknowingly,butthathedoeswhatispainfulknowingly,andbecauseheisovercomeby pleasure,which is unworthy to overcome.Whatmeasure is there of the relations ofpleasuretopainotherthanexcessanddefect,whichmeansthattheybecomegreaterandsmaller,andmoreandfewer,anddifferindegree?Forifanyonesays:‘Yes,Socrates,butimmediatepleasuredifferswidelyfromfuturepleasureandpain’—TothatIshouldreply:Anddotheydifferinanythingbutinpleasureandpain?Therecanbenoothermeasureofthem.Anddoyou,likeaskilfulweigher,putintothebalancethepleasuresandthepains,andtheirnearnessanddistance,andweighthem,andthensaywhichoutweighstheother.Ifyouweighpleasuresagainstpleasures,youofcourse take themoreandgreater;or ifyouweigh pains against pains, you take the fewer and the less; or if pleasures againstpains, then you choose that course of action in which the painful is exceeded by thepleasant,whether the distant by the near or the near by the distant; and you avoid thatcourseofactioninwhichthepleasant isexceededbythepainful.Wouldyounotadmit,myfriends,thatthisistrue?Iamconfidentthattheycannotdenythis.

Heagreedwithme.

Wellthen,Ishallsay,ifyouagreesofar,besogoodastoanswermeaquestion:Donotthe same magnitudes appear larger to your sight when near, and smaller when at adistance?Theywillacknowledgethat.Andthesameholdsofthicknessandnumber;alsosounds, which are in themselves equal, are greater when near, and lesser when at adistance.Theywillgrantthatalso.Nowsupposehappinesstoconsistindoingorchoosingthegreater,andinnotdoingorinavoidingtheless,whatwouldbethesavingprincipleofhumanlife?Wouldnottheartofmeasuringbethesavingprinciple;orwouldthepowerofappearance?Isnotthelatterthatdeceivingartwhichmakesuswanderupanddownandtakethethingsatonetimeofwhichwerepentatanother,bothinouractionsandinourchoice of things great and small?But the art ofmeasurementwould do awaywith theeffectofappearances,and,showingthetruth,wouldfainteachthesoulatlasttofindrestinthetruth,andwouldthussaveourlife.Wouldnotmankindgenerallyacknowledgethattheartwhichaccomplishesthisresultistheartofmeasurement?

Yes,hesaid,theartofmeasurement.

Suppose,again, thesalvationofhumanlife todependonthechoiceofoddandeven,and on the knowledge of when a man ought to choose the greater or less, either inreferencetothemselvesortoeachother,andwhethernearoratadistance;whatwouldbethe saving principle of our lives?Would not knowledge?—a knowledge of measuring,when the question is one of excess and defect, and a knowledge of number, when thequestionisofoddandeven?Theworldwillassent,willtheynot?

Protagorashimselfthoughtthattheywould.

Well then,myfriends,Isayto them;seeingthat thesalvationofhumanlifehasbeenfoundtoconsistintherightchoiceofpleasuresandpains,—inthechoiceofthemoreandthefewer,andthegreaterandtheless,andthenearerandremoter,mustnotthismeasuringbeaconsiderationoftheirexcessanddefectandequalityinrelationtoeachother?

Thisisundeniablytrue.

Andthis,aspossessingmeasure,mustundeniablyalsobeanartandscience?

Theywillagree,hesaid.

The nature of that art or science will be a matter of future consideration; but theexistenceofsuchascience furnishesademonstrativeanswer to thequestionwhichyouaskedofmeandProtagoras.Atthetimewhenyouaskedthequestion,ifyouremember,both of us were agreeing that there was nothing mightier than knowledge, and thatknowledge, in whatever existing, must have the advantage over pleasure and all otherthings;andthenyousaidthatpleasureoftengottheadvantageevenoveramanwhohasknowledge; andwe refused to allow this, andyou rejoined:OProtagoras andSocrates,whatisthemeaningofbeingovercomebypleasureifnotthis?—telluswhatyoucallsucha state:—ifwehad immediately and at the time answered ‘Ignorance,’ youwouldhavelaughedatus.Butnow,inlaughingatus,youwillbelaughingatyourselves:foryoualsoadmittedthatmenerrintheirchoiceofpleasuresandpains;thatis,intheirchoiceofgoodandevil,fromdefectofknowledge;andyouadmittedfurther,thattheyerr,notonlyfromdefect of knowledge in general, but of that particular knowledge which is calledmeasuring.Andyouarealsoawarethattheerringactwhichisdonewithoutknowledgeisdone in ignorance. This, therefore, is the meaning of being overcome by pleasure;—

ignorance, and that the greatest. And our friends Protagoras and Prodicus and Hippiasdeclare that they are the physicians of ignorance; but you,who are under themistakenimpressionthatignoranceisnotthecause,andthattheartofwhichIamspeakingcannotbe taught, neither go yourselves, nor send your children, to the Sophists, who are theteachersofthesethings—youtakecareofyourmoneyandgivethemnone;andtheresultis,thatyouaretheworseoffbothinpublicandprivatelife:—Letussupposethistobeouranswer to the world in general: And now I should like to ask you, Hippias, and you,Prodicus,aswellasProtagoras(fortheargumentistobeyoursaswellasours),whetheryouthinkthatIamspeakingthetruthornot?

TheyallthoughtthatwhatIsaidwasentirelytrue.

Thenyouagree, I said, that thepleasant is thegood,and thepainfulevil.Andhere Iwould begmy friend Prodicus not to introduce his distinction of names,whether he isdisposedtosaypleasurable,delightful,joyful.However,bywhatevernamehepreferstocallthem,Iwillaskyou,mostexcellentProdicus,toanswerinmysenseofthewords.

Prodicuslaughedandassented,asdidtheothers.

Then,myfriends,whatdoyousaytothis?Arenotallactionshonourableanduseful,ofwhich the tendency is tomake life painless and pleasant?The honourablework is alsousefulandgood?

Thiswasadmitted.

Then, I said, if the pleasant is the good, nobody does anything under the idea orconvictionthatsomeotherthingwouldbebetterandisalsoattainable,whenhemightdothebetter.Andthisinferiorityofamantohimselfismerelyignorance,asthesuperiorityofamantohimselfiswisdom.

Theyallassented.

And is not ignorance the having a false opinion and being deceived about importantmatters?

Tothisalsotheyunanimouslyassented.

Then, I said, noman voluntarily pursues evil, or thatwhich he thinks to be evil. Toprefereviltogoodisnotinhumannature;andwhenamaniscompelledtochooseoneoftwoevils,noonewillchoosethegreaterwhenhemayhavetheless.

Allofusagreedtoeverywordofthis.

Well, I said, there isacertain thingcalled fearor terror;andhere,Prodicus, I shouldparticularlyliketoknowwhetheryouwouldagreewithmeindefiningthisfearorterrorasexpectationofevil.

ProtagorasandHippiasagreed,butProdicussaidthatthiswasfearandnotterror.

Nevermind,Prodicus,Isaid;butletmeaskwhether,ifourformerassertionsaretrue,amanwillpursuethatwhichhefearswhenheisnotcompelled?Wouldnotthisbeinflatcontradiction to the admission which has been alreadymade, that he thinks the thingswhichhefearstobeevil;andnoonewillpursueorvoluntarilyacceptthatwhichhethinkstobeevil?

Thatalsowasuniversallyadmitted.

Then, I said, these, Hippias and Prodicus, are our premisses; and I would begProtagorastoexplaintoushowhecanberightinwhathesaidatfirst.Idonotmeaninwhathesaidquiteatfirst,forhisfirststatement,asyoumayremember,wasthatwhereastherewerefivepartsofvirtuenoneofthemwaslikeanyotherofthem;eachofthemhadaseparate function. To this, however, I am not referring, but to the assertion which heafterwardsmadethatofthefivevirtuesfourwerenearlyakintoeachother,butthat thefifth,whichwas courage, differed greatly from the others.And of this he gaveme thefollowing proof. He said: Youwill find, Socrates, that some of themost impious, andunrighteous,andintemperate,andignorantofmenareamongthemostcourageous;whichprovesthatcourageisverydifferentfromtheotherpartsofvirtue.Iwassurprisedathissayingthisatthetime,andIamstillmoresurprisednowthatIhavediscussedthematterwithyou.SoIaskedhimwhetherby thebravehemeant theconfident.Yes,hereplied,andtheimpetuousorgoers.(Youmayremember,Protagoras,thatthiswasyouranswer.)

Heassented.

Wellthen,Isaid,tellusagainstwhatarethecourageousreadytogo—againstthesamedangersasthecowards?

No,heanswered.

Thenagainstsomethingdifferent?

Yes,hesaid.

Thendocowardsgowherethereissafety,andthecourageouswherethereisdanger?

Yes,Socrates,somensay.

Verytrue,Isaid.ButIwanttoknowagainstwhatdoyousaythatthecourageousarereadytogo—againstdangers,believingthemtobedangers,ornotagainstdangers?

No, saidhe; the former casehasbeenprovedbyyou in theprevious argument tobeimpossible.

That,again,Ireplied,isquitetrue.Andifthishasbeenrightlyproven,thennoonegoestomeetwhathe thinks tobedangers, since thewantof self-control,whichmakesmenrushintodangers,hasbeenshowntobeignorance.

Heassented.

Andyetthecourageousmanandthecowardalikegotomeetthataboutwhichtheyareconfident;sothat,inthispointofview,thecowardlyandthecourageousgotomeetthesamethings.

Andyet,Socrates,saidProtagoras,thattowhichthecowardgoesistheoppositeofthattowhichthecourageousgoes;theone,forexample,isreadytogotobattle,andtheotherisnotready.

Andisgoingtobattlehonourableordisgraceful?Isaid.

Honourable,hereplied.

Andifhonourable, thenalreadyadmittedbyustobegood;forallhonourableactions

wehaveadmittedtobegood.

Thatistrue;andtothatopinionIshallalwaysadhere.

True,Isaid.Butwhichofthetwoaretheywho,asyousay,areunwillingtogotowar,whichisagoodandhonourablething?

Thecowards,hereplied.

Andwhatisgoodandhonourable,Isaid,isalsopleasant?

Ithascertainlybeenacknowledgedtobeso,hereplied.

Anddothecowardsknowinglyrefusetogotothenobler,andpleasanter,andbetter?

Theadmissionofthat,hereplied,wouldbelieourformeradmissions.

Butdoesnotthecourageousmanalsogotomeetthebetter,andpleasanter,andnobler?

Thatmustbeadmitted.

Andthecourageousmanhasnobasefearorbaseconfidence?

True,hereplied.

Andifnotbase,thenhonourable?

Headmittedthis.

Andifhonourable,thengood?

Yes.

Butthefearandconfidenceofthecowardorfoolhardyormadman,onthecontrary,arebase?

Heassented.

Andthesebasefearsandconfidencesoriginateinignoranceanduninstructedness?

True,hesaid.

Thenastothemotivefromwhichthecowardsact,doyoucallitcowardiceorcourage?

Ishouldsaycowardice,hereplied.

Andhavetheynotbeenshowntobecowardsthroughtheirignoranceofdangers?

Assuredly,hesaid.

Andbecauseofthatignorancetheyarecowards?

Heassented.

Andthereasonwhytheyarecowardsisadmittedbyyoutobecowardice?

Heagainassented.

Thentheignoranceofwhatisandisnotdangerousiscowardice?

Henoddedassent.

Butsurelycourage,Isaid,isopposedtocowardice?

Yes.

Then the wisdom which knows what are and are not dangers is opposed to theignoranceofthem?

Tothatagainhenoddedassent.

Andtheignoranceofthemiscowardice?

Tothatheveryreluctantlynoddedassent.

Andtheknowledgeofthatwhichisandisnotdangerousiscourage,andisopposedtotheignoranceofthesethings?

Atthispointhewouldnolongernodassent,butwassilent.

Andwhy,Isaid,doyouneitherassentnordissent,Protagoras?

Finishtheargumentbyyourself,hesaid.

Ionlywanttoaskonemorequestion,Isaid.Iwanttoknowwhetheryoustillthinkthattherearemenwhoaremostignorantandyetmostcourageous?

Youseemtohaveagreatambition tomakemeanswer,Socrates,and thereforeIwillgratify you, and say, that this appears to me to be impossible consistently with theargument.

Myonlyobject,Isaid,incontinuingthediscussion,hasbeenthedesiretoascertainthenature and relations of virtue; for if this were clear, I am very sure that the othercontroversywhichhasbeencarriedonatgreatlengthbybothofus—youaffirmingandIdenyingthatvirtuecanbetaught—wouldalsobecomeclear.Theresultofourdiscussionappearstometobesingular.Foriftheargumenthadahumanvoice,thatvoicewouldbeheard laughingatusandsaying:‘ProtagorasandSocrates,youarestrangebeings; thereare you, Socrates,whowere saying that virtue cannot be taught, contradicting yourselfnow by your attempt to prove that all things are knowledge, including justice, andtemperance,andcourage,—whichtendstoshowthatvirtuecancertainlybetaught;forifvirtuewereother thanknowledge, asProtagoras attempted to prove, then clearly virtuecannotbe taught;but ifvirtue isentirelyknowledge,asyouareseeking toshow, thenIcannotbutsupposethatvirtue iscapableofbeingtaught.Protagoras,ontheotherhand,whostartedbysayingthatitmightbetaught,isnoweagertoproveittobeanythingratherthan knowledge; and if this is true, itmust be quite incapable of being taught.’Now I,Protagoras, perceiving this terrible confusionof our ideas, have a great desire that theyshouldbeclearedup.AndIshouldliketocarryonthediscussionuntilweascertainwhatvirtueis,whethercapableofbeingtaughtornot,lesthaplyEpimetheusshouldtripusupanddeceiveusintheargument,asheforgotusinthestory;IpreferyourPrometheustoyourEpimetheus, forofhim Imakeuse,whenever I ambusyabout thesequestions, inPrometheancareofmyownlife.Andifyouhavenoobjection,asIsaidatfirst,Ishouldliketohaveyourhelpintheenquiry.

Protagoras replied:Socrates, I amnot of a base nature, and I am the lastman in theworldtobeenvious.Icannotbutapplaudyourenergyandyourconductofanargument.AsIhaveoftensaid,IadmireyouaboveallmenwhomIknow,andfaraboveallmenofyour age; and I believe that youwill becomevery eminent in philosophy.Let us come

backtothesubjectatsomefuturetime;atpresentwehadbetterturntosomethingelse.

Byallmeans, I said, if that isyourwish; for I tooought long since tohavekept theengagement of which I spoke before, and only tarried because I could not refuse therequestofthenobleCallias.Sotheconversationended,andwewentourway.