Classic Audiobook Collection - Euthydemus by Plato ~ Full Audiobook [philosophy]

Episode Date: June 6, 2024

Euthydemus by Plato audiobook. Genre: philosophy In Plato's Euthydemus, Socrates recounts to his friend Crito a memorable encounter at the Lyceum, where two celebrated brothers, Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, promise to teach virtue and wisdom. Their method, however, is less instruction than combat: rapid-fire questions, verbal traps, and dazzling contradictions designed to win applause. Caught between admiration and confusion is Cleinias, an earnest young nobleman whose education is at stake, along with a circle of onlookers eager for entertainment. Socrates steps into the fray with his usual patience and irony, testing what it really means to learn, to argue well, and to care for the soul. As the brothers' cleverness escalates, the dialogue becomes a lively examination of the difference between genuine philosophy and showy disputation, and of how a teacher should guide a student toward virtue rather than victory. By turns funny, pointed, and unsettling, Euthydemus challenges listeners to ask whether reasoning is a tool for truth or merely a weapon for winning. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:49:56) Chapter 02 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Euthetamos by Plato, translated by Benjamin Joet. Persons of the Dialogue Socrates, who is the narrator of the dialogue? Crichto, Claimius, Euthetimos, Dionysodros, Catecipos, Cene, the Lyceum. Crichto, who was the person Socrates, with whom you were talking yesterday at the Lyceum? There was such a crowd around you that I could not get within hearing, but I caught a sight of him over their heads, and I made out, as I thought, that he was a stranger with whom you were talking. Who was he? Socrates, there were two Crichto. Which of them do you mean?

Crito, the one who was seated second from you on the right-hand side. In the middle was Clinius, the young son of Axiocos, who has wonderfully grown. He's only about the age of my own, Quetobulus, but he is much forwarder and very good-looking. The other is thin, and looks younger than he is. Socrates, he, whom you mean Crichto, is Eucydemos, and on my left hand there was his brother, Dionysodros, who also took part in the conversation. Crito. Neither of them are known to me, Socrates. They are a new importation of sophists, as I should imagine. Of what country are they, and what is their line of wisdom. Socrates, as to their origin, I believe that they are natives of this part of the

world, and have migrated from chaos and thurii. They were driven out of thorei, and have been living for many years past in this region. As to their wisdom, about which you ask, Crito, they are wonderful, consummate. I never knew what the true pancreatist was before. They are simply made up of fighting, not like the two Akarnanian brothers who fight with their bodies only, but this pair are perfect in the use of their bodies, and have a universal mode of fighting, for they are capital at fighting in armor, and will teach the art to anyone who pays them,

and also they are masters of legal fence, and are ready to do battle in the courts. They will give lessons in speaking and pleading, and in writing speeches, and this was only the beginning of their wisdom, them, but they have at last carried out the pancreaticastic art to the very end, and have mastered the only mode of fighting which had been hitherto neglected by them. And now, no one dares look at them, such as their skill in the war of words, that they can refute any proposition,

whether true or false. Now, I am thinking, Quido, of putting myself in their hands, for they say that in a short time they can impart their skill to anyone. Quido. But Socrates, But Socrates, are you not too old? There may be reason to fear that. Socrates. Certainly not, Crito, as I will prove to you, for I have the consolation of knowing that they began this art of disputation which I covet, quite, as I may say in old age.

Last year, or the year before, they had none of their new wisdom. I am only apprehensive that I may bring the two strangers into disrepute, as I have done Conos, the son of Metrobios, the heart. harp player who is still my music master. For when the boys who also go to him see me going, they laugh at me and call him Grandpapa's master. Now, I should not like the strangers to experience this sort of treatment, and perhaps they may be afraid and not like to receive me because of this. And therefore, Crichto, I shall try and persuade some old men to go along with me to them, as I persuaded them to go to Conos, and I hope that you will make one, and

perhaps, we had better take your sons as a bait. They will want to have them, and will be willing to receive us as pupils for the sake of them. Crito. I see no objection, Socrates, if you like, but first I wish that you would give me a description of their wisdom, that I may know beforehand what we are going to learn. Socrates, I will tell you at once, for I cannot say that I did not attend. The fact was that I paid great attention to them, and I remember and will endeavor to tell you the whole story. I was providentially sitting alone in the dressing-room of the Lyceum in which you saw me, and was about to depart, when, as I was getting up, I recognized the familiar divine sign, so I sat down again, and in a little while the two brothers, Euthydemos, and Dianisodros, came in,

and several others with them, whom I believe to be their disciples, and they walked about in the covered space. They had not taken more than two or three turns when Clanius entered, who, as you truly say, is very much improved. He was followed by a host of lovers, one of whom was Catesipos the Pianian, a well-bred youth, but also having the wildness of youth. Clinius saw me from the entrance as I was sitting alone, and at once came and sat down on the right hand of me, as you describe, and Dianisodros and Eucidemos, when they saw him, at first stopped and talked with one another, now and then glancing at us, for I particularly watched them, and then Eucidemos came and sat down by the youth, and the other by me on the left hand, the rest, anywhere. I saluted the brothers, whom I had not seen for a long time, and then I said to Clanius, these two men, Euthetimos, and Dionysodros, Clanius, are not in a small, but in a large way of wisdom, for they know all about war, all that a good general ought to know about the array and command of an army,

and the whole art of fighting an armor, and they know about law too, and can teach a man how to use the weapons of the courts when he is injured. They heard me say this, and I was despised by them. They looked at one another, and both of them laughed, and then, Eithetimos said, Those Socrates are matters which we no longer pursue seriously. They are secondary occupations to us. Indeed, I said, if such occupations are regarded by you as secondary, what must the principal one be? Tell me, I beseech you, what that noble study is. The teaching of virtue Socrates, he replied, is our principal occupation, and we believe that we can impart it better and quicker than any man. My God, I said, and where did you learn that? I always thought, as I was saying just now, that your chief accomplishment was the art of fighting an armor, and this was what I used to say of you, for I remember that this was professed by you when you were here before.

But now, if you really have the other knowledge, oh, forgive me, I address you as I would superior beings, and ask you to pardon the impiety of my former expression. But are you quite sure about this, Dionysodorus, and Euthydemos? The promise is so vast that a feeling of incredulity will creep in. You may take our word, Socrates, for the fact. Then I think you happier in having such a treasure than the great king is in the possession of his kingdom, and, please to tell me whether you intend to exhibit this wisdom, or what you will do. That is why we are come hither, Socrates, and our purpose is not only to exhibit, but also to teach

anyone who likes to learn. But I can promise you, I said, that every unvirtuous person will want to learn. I shall be the first, and there is to use Clanius, and Catesipos, and here are several others, I said, pointing to the lovers of Clanius, who were beginning to gather around us. Now, Catesipos was sitting at some distance from Clanius, and, when Euthetamus leaned forward in talking with me, he was prevented from seeing Clanius who was between us, and so, partly because he wanted to look at his love, and also because he was interested,

he jumped up and stood opposite to us, and all the other admirers of Clanius, as well as the disciples of Yuthydemos and Dianisodros followed his example, and these were the persons whom I showed to Yathemas, telling him that they were all eager to learn, to which Catesipos, and all of them with one voice, vehemently assented, and bid him exhibit the power of his wisdom. Then I said, Oh, Euthidimos, and Dionysodros, I earnestly request you to do myself,

and the company the favor to exhibit. There may be some trouble in giving the whole exhibition, but tell me one thing, can you make a good man only of him who is convinced that he ought to learn of you, or of him also who is not convinced, either because he imagines that virtue is not a thing which can be taught at all, or that you two are not the teachers of it. Say whether your art is able to persuade such and one, nevertheless that virtue can be taught,

and that you are the man from whom he will be most likely to learn. This is the art, Socrates, said Dionysodros, and no other. And you, Dionysodros, I said, are the men who, among those who are now living, are the most likely to stimulate him to philosophy and the study of virtue? Yes, Socrates, I rather think that we are. Then, I wish that you would be so good as to defer the other part of the exhibition, and only try to persuade the use whom you see here that he ought to be a philosopher and study virtue. Exhibit that, and you will confer a great favor on me, and on everyone present, for the fact is that I,

and all of us are extremely anxious that he should be truly good. His name is Cleinius, and he is the son of Axiocos, and grandson of the old alcibiades, cousin of the alcibiades that now is. He is quite young, and we are naturally afraid that someone may get the start of us and turn his mind in a wrong direction, and he may be ruined. Your visit, therefore, is most happily timed, and I hope that you will make a trial of the young man, and converse with him in our presence, if you have no objection. These were pretty nearly the expressions which I used, and, Euthetemos, in a lofty, and at the same time cheerful tone replied, there can be no objection, Socrates, if the young man is only willing to answer questions. He is quite accustomed to that,

I replied, for his friends often come and ask him questions and argue with him, so that he is at home in answering. What followed, Croydo, how can I rightly narrate? For, not slight is the task of rehearsing infinite wisdom, and therefore, like the poets, I ought to commence my relation with an invocation to memory and the muses. Now, Euthetimos, if I remember rightly, began nearly as follows. Oh, Clinius, are those who learn, though, wise or the ignorant. The youth, overpowered by the question, blushed, and in his perplexity,

looked at me for help, and I, knowing that he was disconcerted, said, don't be afraid, Clinius, but answer, like a man, whichever you think, for my belief is that he will derive the greatest good from their questions. Whichever he answers, said Dianisodros, leaning forward in my ear and laughing, I prophesy that he will be refuted, Socrates. While he was speaking to me, Clanias gave his answer. The consequence was that I had no time to warn him of the predicament in which he was placed, and he answered that those who learned were the wise. Uthetamos proceeded. There are those whom you call teachers, are there not? The boy assented, and they are the teachers of those who learn, the grammar master and the

liar master used to teach you, and other boys, and you. were the learners? Yes. And when you were learners, you did not as yet know the things which you were learning? No, he said. And were you wise, then? No, indeed, he said. But if you were not wise, you were unlearned? Certainly. You then, learning what you did not know, were unlearned when you were learning? The youth nodded assent. Then, the unlearned learn, and not the wise, cleaniest as you mention. At these words, the followers of Yithidimos, of whom I spoke, like a chorus at the bidding of their director, laughed and cheered. Then, before the youth had well time to recover, Giannisodros took him in hand and said, Yes, Clinius, and, when the grammar master

dictated to you, were they the wise boys, or the unlearned, who learned the dictation? The wise, replied Clinius. Then, after all, the wise are the learners, and not the unlearned, and your last answer to Euthetemos was wrong. Then followed another peal of laughter and shouting, which came from the admirers of the two heroes who were ravished with their wisdom, while the rest of us were silent and amazed. This Euthetemos, perceiving, determined to persevere with the youth, and in order to heighten the effect went on asking another similar question,

which might be compared to the double turn of an expert dancer. Do those, said he, who learn, learn what they know, or what they do not know? Dionysodros said to me in a whisper, that Socrates is just another of the same sort. Good heavens, I said, and your last question was so good. Like all our other questions, Socrates, he replied, inevitable. I see the reason I said, why you are in such reputation among your disciples. Meanwhile, Clinius had answered Euthidimos that those who learned learned what they do not know, and he put him through a series of questions as before.

Don't you know letters? He assented. All letters? Yes. But when the teacher dictates to you, does he not dictate letters? He admitted that. Then, if you know all letters, he dictates that which you know. He admitted that also.

Then, said the other. you do not learn that which he dictates, but he only, who does not know letters, learns. Nay, said Clinius, but I do learn. Then, said he, you learn what you know, if you know all the letters. He admitted that. Then he said, you were wrong in your answer. The word was hardly out of his mouth when Deonisodros took up the argument, like a ball which he caught, and had another throw at the use.

Clinius, he said, Yethidemos is deceiving. you, for, tell me now, is not learning acquiring knowledge of that which one learns? Cleinius assented, and knowing is having knowledge at the time? He agreed, and not knowing is not having knowledge at the time, he admitted that, and are those who acquire, those who have or have not a thing, those who have not, and have you not admitted that those who do not know are of the number of those who have not? He nodded assent. Then, those who learn are of the class of those who acquire, and not of those who have? He agreed. Then, Claimius, he said, those who do not know, learn, and not those who know. Eustidemos was proceeding to give the youth a third fall,

but I knew that he was in deep water, and therefore, as I wanted to give him a rest, and also in order, that he might not get out of heart, I said to him, consolingly, you must not be surprised, Clinius, at the singularity of their mode of speech. This, I say, because you may not understand what they are doing with you. They are only initiating you after the manner of the Corbanties in the mysteries, and this answers to the enthronement, which, if you have ever been initiated, is, as you will know, accompanied by dancing in sport, and now they are just prancing and dancing about you.

you, and will next proceed to initiate you, and at this stage you must imagine yourself to have gone through the first part of the Sophistical Ritual, which, as Partico says, begins with initiation into the correct use of terms. The two strange gentlemen wanted to explain to you, as you do not know, that the word to learn has two meanings, and is used, first, in the sense of acquiring knowledge of some matter of which you previously have no knowledge, and also, when you have the knowledge, in the sense of reviewing the same matter done or spoken by the light of this knowledge. This last is generally called knowing, rather than learning, but the word learning is also used,

and you did not see that the word is used of two opposite sorts of men, of those who know, and of those who do not know, as they explained. There was a similar trick in the second question when they asked you whether men learn what they know or what they do not know. These parts of learning are not serious, and therefore I say that these gentlemen are not serious, but only in fun with you. And if a man had all that sort of knowledge that ever was, he would not be at all the wiser. He would only be able to play with men, tripping them up, and oversetting them with distinctions of words. He would be like a person who pulls away a stool from someone when he is about to sit down, and then laughs and claps his hands at the sight of his friend sprawling on the ground.

And you must regard all that has passed hitherto as merely play. But now I am certain that they will proceed to business and keep their promise. I will show them how, for they promised to give me a sample of the hortatory philosophy, but I suppose that they wanted to have a game of play with you first. And now, Eucidimos and Giannisodorus, I said, I think that we have had enough of this. Will you, let me see you exhibiting to the young man, and showing him how he is to apply himself to the study of virtue and wisdom? And I will first show you what I conceive to be the nature of the task, and what I desire to hear.

And if I do this in a very inartistic and ridiculous manner, do not laugh at me, for I only venture to improvise before you because I am eager to hear your wisdom, and I must therefore ask you to keep your countenances, and your disciples also. And now, O son of Axiocos, let me put a question to you, Do not all men desire happiness? And yet, perhaps, this is one of those ridiculous questions which I am afraid to ask, and which ought not to be asked by a sensible man, for what human being is there who does not desire happiness?

there is no one said clinius who does not well then i said since we all of us desire happiness how can we be happy that is the next question shall we not be happy if we have many good things and this perhaps is even a more simple question than the first for there can be no doubt of the answer He assented, and what things do we esteem good? No solemn sage is required to tell us this, which may be easily answered, for everyone will say that wealth is a good. Certainly, he said, and are not health and beauty goods, and other personal gifts? He agreed. Now, can there be any doubt that good birth and power and honors in one's own land are goods? He assented, and what other goods are there, I said.

What do you say of justice, temperance, courage? Do you not verily, and indeed think, Clanius, that we shall be more right in ranking them as goods than in not ranking them as goods? For a dispute might possibly arise about this. What then do you say? They are good, said Clanius. Very well, I said, and in what company shall we find a place for wisdom, among the goods or not?

Among the goods. And now I said, think, whether we have left out any conditions. considerable goods. I do not think that we have, said Clanius. Upon recollection, I said, indeed, I am afraid, that we have left out the greatest of them all. What is that, he asked? Fortune Clanius, I replied, which all, even the most foolish, admit to be the greatest of goods. True, he said.

On second thoughts, I added, how narrowly, O son of Axiocose, have you and I escaped making a laughing-stock of ourselves to the strangers? Why do you say that? Why, because we have already spoken of fortune, and are but repeating ourselves. What do you mean? I mean that there is something ridiculous in putting fortune again forward and saying the same thing twice over. He asked, what was the meaning of this? And I replied, surely, wisdom is good fortune.

Even a child may know that. The simple-minded youth was amazed, and, observing this, I said to him, Do you not know, Clinius, that flute players are most fortunate and successful in performing on the flute? Yesented. And are not the scribes most fortunate in writing and reading letters? Certainly. Amid the dangers of the sea, again, are any more fortunate on the whole than wise pilots? None, certainly.

And if you were engaged in war, in whose company would you rather take the risk? in company with a wise general or with a foolish one, with a wise one. And if you were ill, whom would you rather have as a companion in a dangerous illness, a wise physician, or an ignorant one? A wise one. You think I said that to act with a wise man is more fortunate than to act with an ignorant one? He assented. Then wisdom always makes men fortunate, for by wisdom no man could ever err

and therefore he must act rightly and succeed, or his wisdom would be wisdom no longer. At last we somehow contrived to agree in a general conclusion that he, who had wisdom, had no longer need a fortune. I then recalled to his mind the previous state of the question. You remember I said, are making the admission, that we should be happy and fortunate if many good things were present with us? He assented. And should we be happy by reason to be happy by reason?

of the presence of good things if they profited us not, or if they profited us, if they profited us, he said. And would they profit us if we only had them and did not use them? For example, if we had a great deal of food and did not eat, or a great deal of drink and did not drink, should we be profited? Certainly not, he said. Or would an artisan, who had all the implements necessary for his work, and did not use them, be any the better for the possession of all that he ought to possess? For example, would a carpenter be any the better for having all his tools and plenty of wood if he never worked? Certainly not, he said. And if a person had wealth and all the goods of which we were just now speaking, and did not use them, would he be happy because he possessed them? No indeed, Socrates. Then I said, a man who would be happy

must not only have the good things, but he must also use them. There is no advantage in merely having them. True. Well, Cleeneas, but if you have the use as well as the possession of good things, is that sufficient to confer happiness? Yes, in my opinion. And may a person use them either rightly or wrongly. He must use them rightly.

That is quite true, I said, and the wrong use of a thing is far worse than the non-use, for the one is an evil, and the other is neither a good nor an evil. You admit that. He assented. Now, in the working and use of wood is not that which gives the right use simply the knowledge of the carpenter? Nothing else, he said. And surely, in the manufacture of vessels, knowledge is that which gives the right way of making them?

He agreed. And in the use of the goods, of which we spoke at first, wealth and health and beauty, is not knowledge, that, which directs us to the right use of them, and guides our practice about them? Knowledge, he replied. Then, in every possession and every use of a thing, knowledge is that which gives a man not only good fortune but success. He assented. And, tell me, I said, oh, tell me, what do possessions profit a man if he have neither sense nor wisdom? Would a man be better off, having, and doing many things without wisdom?

or a few things with wisdom. Look at the matter thus. If he did fewer things, would he not make fewer mistakes? If he made fewer mistakes, would he not have fewer misfortunes? And if he had fewer misfortunes, would he not be less miserable? Certainly he said. And, who would do least, a poor man or a rich man? A poor man?

A weak man or a strong man. A weak man. A noble man or a mean man. A mean man. And a coward would do less than a courageous and temperate man? Yes. And an indolent man less than an active man? He assented. And a slow man, less than a quick, and one who had dull perceptions of seeing and hearing, less than one who had keen eyes? All this was mutually allowed by us. Then I said, Clinius, the sum of the matter appears to be that the goods of which we spoke before are not to be regarded as goods in themselves, but the degree of good and evil in them depends

on whether they are or are not under the guidance of knowledge. Under the guidance of ignorance, they are greater evils than their opposites, inasmuch, as they are more able to minister to the evil principle which rules them, and, when under the guidance of wisdom and virtue, they are greater goods, but in themselves they are nothing. That he said, appears to be certain. What then I said, is the result of all this? Is not this the result? That other things are indifferent, and that wisdom is the only good and ignorance the only evil? He assented. Let us consider this further point, I said, seeing that all men desire happiness, and happiness, as has been shown, is gained by a use and a right use of the things of life, and the right

use of them, and good fortune in the use of them is given by knowledge. The inference is that every man ought, by all means, to try and make himself as wise as he can. Yes, he said, and the desire to obtain this treasure, which is far more precious than money, from a father or a guardian, or a friend, or a suitor, whether citizen or stranger, the eager desire and prayer to them that they would impart wisdom to you is not at all dishonorable, Clanius. Nor is anyone to be blamed for doing any honorable service or administration to any man, whether a lover or not, if his aim is wisdom. Do you agree to that, I said? Yes, he said, I quite agree, and think that you are right. Yes, I said, Clanius, if only wisdom can be taught,

and does not come to man spontaneously, for that is a point which has still to be considered, and is not yet agreed upon by you and me. But I think Socrates that wisdom can be taught, he said. Best of men, I said, I am delighted to hear you say that, and I am also grateful to you for having saved me from a long and tiresome speculation as to whether wisdom can be taught or not. But now, as you think that wisdom can be taught, and that wisdom only can make a man happy and fortunate,

will you not acknowledge that all of us ought to love wisdom, and that you in particular should be of this mind and try to love her? Certainly, Socrates, he said, and I will do my best. I was pleased at hearing this, and I turned to Dianisodros and Eucydemos, and said, That is an example, clumsy and tedious, I admit, of the sort of exhortations which I desire you to offer, and I hope that one of you will set forth what I have been saying in a more artistic style. At any rate, take up the inquiry where I left off, and next show the youth whether he should have all knowledge, or whether there is one sort of knowledge only which will make him good and happy, and what that is.

For, as I was saying at first, the improvement of this young man in virtue and wisdom is a matter which we have very much at heart. Thus I spoke, Crito, and was all attention to what was coming. I wanted to see how they would approach the question, and where they would start in their exhortation to the young man that he should practice wisdom and virtue. Dionisodorus, the elder, spoke first. everybody's eyes were directed towards him, perceiving that something wonderful might shortly be expected,

and certainly they were not far wrong, for the man, Crito, began a remarkable discourse well worth hearing, and wonderfully persuasive as an exhortation to virtue. Tell me, he said, Socrates, and the rest of you, who say that you want this young man to become wise, are you in jest, or in real earnest? I was led by this to imagine that they fancied us to have been jesting, when we asked them to converse with the use, and that this made them just in play, and, being under this impression, it was the more decided in saying that we were in profound earnest. Dionysodoro said,

Reflect Socrates, you may have to deny your words. I have reflected, I said, and I shall never deny my words. Well, said he, and so you say that you wish Clanias to become wise? Undoubtedly, and he is not wise as yet? At least his modesty will not allow him to say that he is. You wish him, he said, to become wise and not to be ignorant? That we do. You wish him to be what he is not, and no longer to be what he is?

I was thrown into consternation at this. Taking advantage of my consternation, he added, You wish him no longer to be what he is, which can only mean that you wish him to perish. Pretty lovers and friends they must be, who want their favorite not to be or to perish. When Catesipos heard this, he got very angry, as a lover might, and said, Strangers of three, if politeness would allow me I should say, you be,

What can make you tell such a lie about me, and the others, which I hardly like to repeat, as that I wish Cleanius to perish? Eurystis said. Euryst replied, and do you think Cotacepos that it is possible to tell a lie? Yes, said Catesipose, I should be mad to deny. that. And in telling a lie, do you tell the thing of which you speak or not? You tell the thing of which you speak. And he who tells tells that thing which he tells and no other? Yes, said Catesupos. And that is a distinct thing apart from other things? Certainly. And he who says

that thing says that which is? Yes. And he who says that which is, says the truth. And therefore Dianisodorus, if he says that which is, says the truth of you and no lie. Yes, Euthetimos, said Catesipos, but in saying this he says what is not. Eithetamos answered, and that which is not is not? True. And that which is not is nowhere? Nowhere. And can anyone do anything about that which has no existence, or, due to Clanius, that which is not

and is nowhere? I think not, said Catesipos, well, but do rhetoricians when they speak in the assembly do nothing? Nay, he said, they do something. And doing is making? Yes, and speaking is doing and making? He agreed. Then, no one says that which is not,

for in saying that he would be doing nothing, and you have already acknowledged that no one can do what is not, and therefore upon your own showing, no one says what is false. But if Dionysodros says anything, he says what is true and what is? Yes, Yithyrmos, said Cateipos, but he speaks of things in a certain way and manner, and not as they really are. Why, Catesipos, said Dianisodros, do you mean to say that anyone speaks of things as they are? Yes, he said, all gentlemen and truth-speaking persons, and are not good things good and evil things evil?

Yes, he assented. And you say that gentlemen speak of things as they are? Yes. Then the good speak evil of evil things, if they speak of them as they are? Yes, indeed, he said, and they speak evil of evil men. And, if I may give you a piece of advice, you had better take care that they don't speak evil of you, since I can tell you that the good speak evil of the evil.

And do they speak great things of the great, rejoined Esedomos, and warm things of the warm? Yes indeed, said Catesipos, and they speak coldly of the insipid and cold dialectician. You are abusive, Cotisipos, you are abusive. Indeed, I am not Dianisodros, he replied, for I love you and am giving you friendly advice, and if I could, would persuade you not to make so uncivil a speech to me as that I desire my beloved, whom I value above all men, to perish. I saw that they were getting exasperated with one another, so I made a joke with him and said,

Oh, Catesipos, I think, that we must allow the strangers to use language in their own way, and not quarrel with them about words, but be thankful for what they give us. If they know how to destroy men in such a way as to make good and sensible men out of bad and foolish ones, whether this is a discovery of their own, or whether they have learned from someone else, this new sort of death and destruction, which enables them to get rid of a bad man and put a good one in his place. If they know this, and they do know this, at any rate they said just now that this was the secret of their newly discovered art, let them, in their phraseology, destroy the youth, and make him wise, and all of us with him. But if you young men do not like to trust yourselves with them, then,

Fiat Experimentum In Copore Sensis, I will be the carrion on whom they shall operate, and here I offer my old person to Dionysodros. You may put me into the pot, like Medea, the Culcian, kill me, pickle me, eat me, if you will only make me good. Ketesipo said, and I, Socrates, am ready to commit myself to the strangers. They may skin me alive, if they please, and I am pretty well skinned by them already. If only my skin is made at last, not like that of Marseus, into a leathern bottle, but into a piece of virtue. And here is Dionysodros fancying that I am angry with him, when I am really not angry at all. I do but contradict him when he seems to me to be in the wrong,

and you must not confound abuse and contradiction, O illustrious Dionysodros, for there are quite different things. Contradiction, said Dionysodros, why there never was such a bit. a thing. Certainly there is, he replied, there can be no question of that. Do you, Dianisodorus, maintain that there is not? You will never prove to me, he said, that you have heard anyone contradicting anyone else. Indeed, he said, then now you may hear Catesipos contradicting Dianisodros. Are you prepared to make that good?

Certainly, he said, well then, are not words expressive of things? Yes. Of their existence, or of their non-existence. of their existence, for, as you may remember Catesipos, we just now proved that no man could affirm a negative, for no one could affirm that which is not. And what does that signify, said Catesopos, you and I may contradict all the same for that. But can we contradict one another, said Giannisodros, when both of us are describing the same thing? Then we must surely be speaking the same thing. He admitted that, or when neither of us is speaking of the same thing, for then neither of us

says a word about the thing at all. He granted that also. But when I describe something and you describe another thing, or I say something and you say nothing, is there any contradiction? How can he who speaks contradict him who speaks not? Here, Catesipos was silent, and I, in my astonishment said, what do you mean, Dianisadros? I have often heard and have been amazed to hear this thesis of yours, which is maintained and employed by the disciples of Protagoras, and others before them, and which to me appears to be quite wonderful and suicidal, as well as destructive, and I think that I am most likely to hear the truth of this from you. The dictum is that there is no such thing as falsehood, a man must either say what is true or say nothing. It's not that your position.

He assented. But if he cannot speak falsely, may he not think falsely? No, he cannot, he said. Then there is no such thing as false opinion? No, he said. Then there is no such thing as ignorance or men who are ignorant, for it's not ignorance if there be such a thing a mistake of facts? Certainly he said. And that is impossible? impossible, he replied. Are you saying this as a paradox, Dianisadros, or do you seriously maintain that no man is ignorant? Do you refute me, he said? But how can I refute you, if, as you say, falsehood is impossible? Very true, said Euthetimos. Neither did I tell you just now to refute me, said Dianisadros, for how can I tell you to do that which is not? Oh, Euthetimos, I said,

I have but a dull conception of these subtleties and excellent devices of wisdom. I am afraid that I hardly understand them, and you must forgive me, therefore, if I ask a very stupid question. If there be no falsehood, or false opinion, or ignorance, there can be no such thing as erroneous action, for a man cannot fail of acting as he is acting. That is what you mean? Yes, he replied, and now I said, I will ask my stupid question. If there is no such thing as a error indeed, word or thought, then what, in the name of goodness, do you come hither to teach? And were you not just now saying that you could teach virtue best of all men to anyone who could learn? And are you such an old fool, Socrates, rejoined Dianysodros, that you bring up now

what I said at first. And if I had said anything last year, I suppose that you would bring that up. But are non-plussed at the words I have just uttered. Why, I said, they are not easy to answer, for they are the words of wise men, and indeed I have a great difficulty in knowing what you mean in that last expression of yours, that I am non-plussed at them. What do you mean by that, Dionysodros? You must mean that I have no refutation of them. Tell me if the words have any other sense. No, he said, the sense or meaning of them is that there is a difficulty in answering them, and I wish that you would answer. What, before you, Dianisoderos, I said?

Answer, said he. And is that fair? Yes, quite fair, he said. Upon what principle I said, I can only suppose that you are a very wise man who comes to us in the character of a great logician, and who knows when to answer and when not to answer, and now you won't open your mouth at all,

because you know that you ought not. You prate, he said, instead of answering, but if my good sir you admit that I am wise, answer as I tell you. I suppose that I must obey, for you are master, put the question. Are the things which have sense alive or lifeless? They are alive. And do you know of any word which is alive? I cannot say that I do.

Then, why did you ask me what sense my words had? Why, because I was stupid and made a mistake, and yet perhaps I was right after all in the same. saying that words have a sense. What do you say, wise man? If I was not an error, and you do not refute me, all your wisdom will be nonplussed. But if I did fall into error, then again, you are wrong in saying that there is no error, and this remark was made by you not quite a year ago. I am inclined to think, however, Dionysodros and Euthydemos, that this argument is not very likely to advance. Even your skill in the subtleties of logic, which is really amazing, has not found

out the way of throwing another and not falling yourself. Catesipos said, men of chaos, Suri, or, however, and whatever you call yourselves, I wonder at you, for you seem to have no objection to talking nonsense. Fearing that there would be high words, I endeavored to soothe Catesipos, and said to him, to you Catesipos, I must repeat what I said before to Clineas, that you don't understand the peculiarity of these philosophers. They are not serious, but, like the Egyptian wizard, Proteus, they take different forms and deceive us by their enchantments, and, let us, like Menelaus, refuse to let them go,

until they show us their real form and character. When they are in earnest, their full beauty will appear. Let us then beg, and entreat and beseech them to shine forth, and I think that I had better show them once more the form in which I pray to behold them. I will go on, where I left off before, as well as I can, in the hope that I may touch their hurts, and move them to pity, and that when they see me deeply serious, they may also be serious.

You, Clinius, I said, shall remind me at what point we left off. Did we not agree that philosophy should be studied? And, was not that our conclusion? Yes, he replied. And philosophy is the acquisition of knowledge? Yes, he said. and what knowledge ought we to acquire is not the simple answer to that a knowledge that will do us good certainly he said and should we be any the better if we went about having a knowledge of the places where most gold was hidden in the earth perhaps we should he said but have we not already proved i said that we should be none the better off even if without trouble and digging all the gold that there is in the earth were ours and if we knew how to convert stones into gold

gold, the knowledge would be of no value to us unless we also knew how to use the gold. Do you not remember I said? I quite remember, he said. Nor would any other knowledge, whether of money-making or of medicine, or of any other art which knows only how to make a thing, and, not to use that which is made, be of any use to us, is not that true? He agreed. And if there were a knowledge which was able to make men immortal without giving them the knowledge of the way to use the mortality, neither would there be any use in that, if we may argue from the analogy of the previous instances.

To all this he agreed, Then, my dear boy, I said, The knowledge which we want is one that uses as well as makes. True, he said, And our desire is not to be skillful liar-makers, or artists of that sort, far otherwise, for with them the art which makes is one, and the art which uses is a number.

another, having to do with the same they are divided, for the art which makes, and the art which plays on the lyre differ widely from one another. Am I not right? He agreed. And clearly, we do not want the art of the flute-maker, for that is another of the same sort? He assented. But suppose I said that we were to learn the art of making speeches. Would that be the art which would make us happy? I think not rejoined Clanius. And, what proof have you of that, I asked. I see he replied that there are some composers of speeches who do not know how to use the speeches which they make, just as the makers of liars do not know how to use the liars. And also, some, who are of themselves unable to compose speeches, but are able to use the

speeches which the others make for them. And this proves that the art of making speeches is not the same as the art of using them. Yes, I said, and that I think is a sufficient proof that the art of making speeches is not one which will make a man happy. And yet, I did think that the art which we are seeking might be discovered in that direction. For the composers of speeches, whenever I meet them, always appear to me to be very extraordinary men, Clanius, and their art is lofty and divine. And no wonder, for their art is a part of the great art of enchantment, and hardly, if at all, inferior to it. And whereas the art of the enchanter is a mode of charming snakes and spiders and scorpions, and other monsters and pests, this art acts upon

diecasts and ecclesiasts and bodies of men, for the charming and consoling of them. Do you agree with me? Yes, he said, I think, that you are quite right. Whither then shall we go, I said, and to what art shall we have recourse? I do not see my way, he said, but I think that I do, I replied. And what is your notion? asked Clanius. I think that the art of the general is the one, the possession of which is most likely to make a man happy. I do not think that, he said.

Why not, I said. The art of the general is surely an art of hunting mankind. What of that I said? Why, he said, no art of hunting extends beyond hunting and capturing, and when the prey is taken they cannot use it, but the huntsman or fisherman hands it over to the cook, and the geometricians and astronomers and calculators, who all belong to the hunting class, for they do not make their diagrams,

but only find out that which was previously contained in them, they, I say, not being able to use, but only to catch their prey, hand over their inventions to the dialecticians to be applied by them, if they have any sense in them. Good, I said, fairest and wisest Clanius, and is this true? Certainly he said, just as a general, when he takes a city or a camp, hands over his new acquisition. to the statesman, for he does not know how to use them himself, or, as the quail-taker transfers the quails to the keeper of them. If we are looking for that art which is to make us blessed, and which is able to use that which it makes or takes, the art of the general is not the one,

and some other must be found. Crito, and do you mean to say Socrates that the youngster said that? Socrates, are you incredulous, Crichto? Crito? Indeed I am, for if he said that, I am of opinion that he needs neither Euthetamus nor anyone else to be his instructor. Socrates, perhaps I may have forgotten, and Catecipos was the real answerer. Crito, Cotacepos, nonsense. Socrates, all I know is that I heard these words, and that they were not spoken either by Euthetimos or Dianisodros. I dare say, my good Criot, that they may have been spoken by some sort of. superior person, that I heard them, I am certain. Quito, yes indeed, Socrates, by someone a good deal superior, as I should be disposed to think.

But did you carry the search any further, and did you find the art which you were seeking? And of Part 1 of Uthetemos, recording in memory of Mitchell Edwards. Part 2 of Eucetimos by Plato, Crito. But did you carry the search any further, and did you find the art which you were seeking? Socrates. Find, my dear sir, no indeed, and we cut a poor figure. We were like children after larks, always on the point of catching the art, which was always getting away from us. But why should I repeat the whole story?

At last we came to the kingly art, and inquired whether that gave, and caused happiness, and then we got into a labyrinth, and, when we thought we were at the end, came out again at the beginning, having still to seek as much as ever. Crito. How did that happen, Socrates? Socrates. I will tell you, the kingly art was identified by us with the political. Crito.

Well, and what came of that? Socrates, to this royal or political art, all the arts, including that of the general, seemed to render up the supremacy, as to the only one which knew how to use that which they created. This seemed to be the very art which we were seeking, the art, which is the source of good government, and which may be described, in the language of Eschalus, as alone sitting at the helm of the vessel of state, piloting and governing all things and utilizing them. Crito. And were you not right, Socrates? Socrates. shall judge, Criot, if you are willing to hear what followed, for we resumed the inquiry,

and a question of this sort was asked. Does this kingly art, having this supreme authority, do anything for us? To be sure, was the answer. And would not you, Criot, say the same? Criot, yes, I should, Socrates, and what would you say that the kingly art does? If medicine were supposed to have supreme authority over the subordinate arts, and I were to ask you a similar question about that, you would say that it produces health? Crito. I should, Socrates. And what of your own art of husbandry, supposing that to have supreme authority over the subject arts? What does that do?

Does it not supply us with the fruits of the earth? Crito. Yes. Socrates. And what does the kingly art do when invested with supreme power? Perhaps you may not be ready with an answer. Crichto. Indeed, I am not Socrates.

Socrates. No more were we, Criott. But at any rate, you know that if this is the art which we were seeking, it ought to be useful? Crito. Certainly. Socrates. And surely, it ought to do us some good. Crito.

Certainly, Socrates. Socrates, and Clanius and I had arrived at the conclusion that knowledge is the only good? Crichto. Yes, that was what you were saying, Socrates. All the other results of politics, and they are many, as for example, wealth, freedom, tranquility, were neither good nor evil in themselves. But the political science ought to make us wise and impart wisdom to us, if that is the science which is likely to do us good.

and make us happy. Crichto. Yes, that was the conclusion at which you had arrived, according to your report of the conversation. Socrates. And does the kingly art make men wise and good? Crito. Why not Socrates? Socrates. What, all men, and in every respect? And teach them all the arts, carpentering and cobbling, and the rest of them? Crito. I do not think that, Socrates. But then what is this knowledge, and what are we to do with it? For it is not the source of any works which are neither good nor evil, nor of any knowledge, but the knowledge of itself. What then can it be, and what are we to do with it? Shall we say, Crichto, that it is the knowledge by which we are to make other men good? Crichto. By all means. Socrates, and in what way will they be good

and useful. Shall we repeat that they will make others good, and that these others will make others again, without ever determining in what they are to be good, for we put aside the results of politics as they are called? Why, here is iteration, as I said, we are just as far, if not farther than ever, from the knowledge of the art or science of happiness. Crichto. Indeed, Socrates, you do appear to have got into a great perplexity. Thereupon, Criot, seeing that I was on the point of shipwreck, I lifted up my voice, and earnestly entreated, and called upon the strangers to save me and the youth from the whirlpool of the argument.

They were our castor and Pollux, I said, and they should be serious, and show us in sober earnest what that knowledge was, which would enable us to pass the rest of our lives in happiness. Crito, and did Euthetemos show you this knowledge? Socrates. Yes, indeed, he proceeded in a lofty strain to the following effect. Would you rather, Socrates, said he, that I show you this knowledge about which you are doubting, or shall I prove that you already have it? What, I said, are you blessed with such a power as this? Indeed I am. Then I would much rather that you should prove me to have such a knowledge.

At my time of life, that will be more agreeable than having to learn. Then tell me he said, do you know anything? Yes, I said, I know many things, but not anything of much importance. That will do, he said, and would you admit that anything is what it is, and at the same time is not what it is? Certainly not. And did you not say that you knew something? I did.

If you know, you are knowing? Certainly, of the knowledge which I have. That makes no difference. And must you not, if you are knowing, know all things? Certainly not, I said, for there are many other things which I do not know. And if you do not know, you are not knowing? Yes, my friend, I said, I am not knowing of that which I do not know. Still, you are not knowing, and you said just now that you were knowing,

and therefore you are and are not at the same time, and in reference to the same things. That sounds well, Eucetimos, and yet I must ask you to explain how I have that knowledge which we were seeking, since a thing cannot be and not be, and if I know one thing, I know all, for I cannot be knowing and not knowing at the same time, and if I know all things, I must have that knowledge as well. May I not assume that to be your ingenious notion? Out of your own most Socrates, you are convicted, he said. well but euthydemos i said has that never happened to you for if i am only in the same case as you and our beloved dianisodros i cannot greatly mind that tell me then you two do you not know some things and not know others certainly not socrates said dianisodros what do you mean i said do you know nothing nay he replied we do know something then i said you know all things if you know anything

yes all things he said and that is as true of you as of us oh indeed i said what a wonderful thing and what a great blessing and do all other men know all things or nothing certainly he replied they cannot know some things and not know others and be at the same time knowing and not knowing then what is the inference i said they all know all things he replied if they know one thing oh heaven's Giannis Sadros, I said, I see now that you are in earnest. Hardly have I got you to that point. And do you really know all things, including carpentering and leather cutting? Certainly, he said. And do you know stitching? Yes, indeed we do, and cobbling too. Yes. And do you know things, such as the numbers of the stars and of the sand? Certainly, did you think that we should say no to that? By Zeus, said Catesipos, interrupting. I only wish that you would give me some proof

which would enable me to know whether you say truly. What proof shall I give you, he said? Will you tell me how many teeth Euthetimos has, and Eithetimos shall tell how many teeth you have? Will you not take our word that we know all things? Certainly not, said Cetisipos. You must further tell us this one thing, and then we shall know that you are speaking the truth.

If you tell us the number, and we count them, them, and you are found to be right, we will believe the rest. They fancied that Catezipose was making game of them, and they refused, and contented themselves with saying, in answer to each of his questions, that they knew all things. Cotacepose, at last, began to throw off all restraint. No question was too bad for him. He would ask them if they knew the foulest things, and they, like wild boars, came rushing on his blows, and fearlessly replied that they did. Quito, I too, was carried away by my incredulity, and asked Yusetimos whether Dianisoderos could dance. Certainly, he replied, and, can he vault upon swords, and turn upon a wheel at his age?

Has he got to such a height of skill as that? He can do anything, he said. And did you always know this? Always, he said, when you were children, and at your birth? They both said that they did. this we could not believe, and Eucidemos said, You are incredulous, Socrates. Yes, I said, and I might well be incredulous, if I did not know that you are wise men.

But if you will answer, he said, I will make you confess to similar marvels. Well, I said, there is nothing that I should like better than to be self-convicted of this, for if I am really a wise man, which I never knew before, and you will prove to me that I know, and have always always, known all things, there is nothing in life that would be a greater gain to me than that. Answer, then, he said. Ask, I said, and I will answer. Do you know something, Socrates, or nothing? Something I said. And do you know with what you know, or with something else? With what I know, and I suppose that you mean with my soul? Are you not ashamed, Socrates, of asking a question when you are

asked. Well, I said, but then what am I to do? For I will do what you bid. When I do not know what you are asking, you tell me to answer, nevertheless, and not to ask again. Why, you surely have some notion of my meaning, he said. Yes, I replied. Well, then, answer according to your notion of my meaning. Yes, I said, but if the question which you ask in one sense is understood and answered by me in another, will that please you? If I answer what is not to the point? That will please me very well, but will not please you equally well, as I imagine. I certainly will not answer unless I understand you, I said. You won't answer, he said, according to your view of the meaning, because you are an old fool and pedant. Now, I saw that he was getting angry with me for drawing distinctions when he

wanted to catch me in his spranges of words, and I remembered that Conos was always angry with me when I opposed him, and then he neglected me because he thought that I was stupid, and, as I was intending to go to Yethydemos as a pupil, I thought that I had better let him have his way, as he might think me a blockhead, and refuse to take me. So I said, you are a far better dialectician than myself, Eithetimos, for I have never made a profession of the art, and therefore do as you say, ask your questions once more, and I will answer. Answer, then he said, once more, whether you know what you know with something or with nothing. Yes, I said, I know with my soul. The man will go on adding to the question, for, said he, I did not ask you with what you know,

but whether you know with something. My ignorance, I said, led me to answer more than you asked, and I hope that you will forgive that, and now I will answer simply that I always know what I know with something. And is that something he rejoined, always the same, or sometimes one thing, and sometimes another thing? Always I replied, when I know, I know with this. Will you not cease adding to your answers? My fear is that this word always may get us into trouble. You perhaps, but certainly not us, and now answer, do you always know with this? Always, since I am required to withdraw the words, when I know. You always know with this, or always knowing, do you know some things with this and some

things with something else, or do you know all things with this? All that I know, I replied, I know with this. There again, Socrates, he said, the addition is superfluous. Well, then I said, I will take away the words that I know. Nay, take nothing away. I desire no favors of you, but let me ask, would you be able to know all things if you did not know all things? Quite impossible. And now he said, you may add on whatever you like, for you confess that you know all things. I suppose that is true, I said, if my qualification implied in the words, that I know, is not allowed to stand, and so I do know all things. And have you not admitted that you always know all things with that which you know, whether you make

the addition of when you know them or not? For you have acknowledged that you have always, and at once known all things, that is to say, when you were a child, and at your birth, and when you were growing up, and before you were born, and, but, but, you have always, and, before the heaven and earth existed. You knew all things if you always know them, and I swear, that you shall always continue to know them if I am of the mind to make you. But I hope that you will be of that mind, Reverend Euthetimos, I said, if you are really speaking the truth, and yet I a little doubt your power to accomplish this unless you have the help of your brother Dianisoderos. Then you may do it. Tell me now, for although in the main I cannot doubt

that I really do know all things, when I am told so by men of your prodigious wisdom, how can I say that I know such things as this, Yethydemos, that the good are unjust? Come, do I know that or not? Certainly you know that. What do I know? That the good are not unjust. Quite true, I said, and I have always known that, but the question is, where did I learn that the good are unjust? Nowhere, said Dianisodorus. Then said I, I do not know this? You are ruining the argument, said Yusitamos, to Dianisadros. He will be proved not to know, and then, after all, he will be knowing and not knowing at the same time.

Dianisadros blushed. I turned to the other and said, What do you think, Euthetimos? Does not your omniscient brother appear to you to have made a mistake? What? replied Dianisodero. in an instant, am I the brother of Yuthydemos? Thereupon, I said, Please not to interrupt my good friend,

or prevent Euthydemos from proving to me that I know the unjust to be the good. Such a lesson you might at least allow me to learn. You are running away Socrates, said Dianisodros, and refusing to answer. No wonder I said, for I am not a match for one of you, and, ah, for Tiori, I must run away from two. I am no Heracles, and even Heracles could not fight against the Hydra, who was a she sophist,

and had the wit to shoot up many new heads when one of them was cut off, especially when he saw a second monster of a sea crab, who was also a sophist, and appeared to have newly arrived from a sea voyage, bearing down upon him from the left, opening his mouth and biting. Then he called Iolaus his nephew to his help, and he ably succoured him, but if my eolaus, who is Patroclus, the statuary were to come, he would make a bad business worse. And now that you have delivered yourself of this strain, said Dianisodros, will you inform me whether Eilouse was the nephew of Heracles any more than he is yours? I suppose that I had best answer you, Dianisodros, I said, for you will insist on asking,

that I pretty well know, out of envy, in order to prevent me from learning the wisdom of Ysidemos. Then answer me, he said. Well, then I said, I have only to say an answer that Iolaus was not my nephew at all, but the nephew of Heracles, and his father was not my brother, Patroclus, but Iphicles, who has a name rather like his, and was the brother of Heracles. And is Petroclos, he said, your brother? Yes, I said, he is my half-brother, the son of my mother, but not of my father. Then he is, and is not your brother? Not by the same father, my good man, I said, for, Cairodemos was his father, and mine was

Saffroniscos. And was Sopronis-Sos and Cairodeimos a father? Yes, I said, the former was mine, and the latter his father. Then he said, Cairodemos is not a father. He is not my father, I said. But can a father be other than a father, or are you the same as a stone? I certainly do not think that I am a stone, I said, though I am afraid that you may prove me one. Are you not other than a stone? I am.

And being other than a stone, you are not a stone. And being other than gold, you are not gold? Very true. And so, Cairodemos, he said, being other than a father is not a father. I suppose that he is not a father, I replied. for if, said Euthetimos, taking up the argument, Kairdemos is a father, then Sophroniscos, being other than a father, is not a father, and you, Socrates, are without a father.

Ketisipos retorted, and is not your father in the same case, for he is other than my father? Assuredly not, said Euthetimos, then he is the same? He is the same. I cannot say that I like the connection, but is he only my father, Euthetimos. or is he the father of all other men? Of all other men he replied, Do you suppose that he is a father and not a father? Certainly, I did imagine that, said Catesipos. And do you suppose that gold is not gold, or that a man is not a man? They are not in party, materia, Yithetimos, said Cateipos,

and you had better take care, for it is monstrous to suppose that your father is the father of all. But he is, he said. What, of men only said Catezipos, or of horses and all of their animals? Of all, he said. And your mother, too, is the mother of all? Yes, our mother too. Yes, and your mother has a progeny of sea urchins, then? Yes, and yours, he said.

And gudgeons, and puppies and pigs are your brothers? And yours, too. And your papa is a dog? And so is yours, he said. If you will answer my questions, said Dionysodros, I will soon extract the same admissions from you, Catesipos. You say that you have a dog? Yes, a villain of a one, said Cotacepos.

And he has puppies? Yes, and they are very like himself. And the dog is the father of them? Yes, he said, I certainly saw him and the mother of the puppies come together. And is he not yours? To be sure he is. Then he is a father, and he is yours. Ergo, he is your father, and the puppies are your.

brothers? Let me ask you, one little question more, said Dianisodros, quickly interposing, in order that Catesipos might not get in his word. You beat this dog? Catesipose said, laughing, indeed I do, and I only wish that I could beat you instead of him. Then you beat your father, he said. I should have had far more reason to beat yours, said Catesipose. What could he have been thinking of when he begat such wise sons? Much good has this father of you and other, other curs got out of your wisdom. But neither he nor you, Catecipose, have any need of much good. And have you no need, Eithetamos, he said. Neither I, nor any other man. For, tell me now, Catesipose, if you think it good or evil for a man who is sick to drink medicine when he wants

it, or to go to war armed rather than unarmed. Good, I say, and yet I know that I am going to be caught in one of your charming puzzles. That he replied, you will discover if you answer, for seeing that you admitted medicine to be good for a man to drink when wanted, must it not be good for him to drink as much as possible? A cartload of Hellebore will not be too much for him. Catesipo said, certainly not Euthetimos, if he who drinks be as big as the statue of Delphi. And if he said, in war, it would be good to have arms, he ought to have as many spears and shields as possible? Very true, said Catesipos. And, do you think that he ought to have one shield only, Euthetimos, and one spear? I do. And would you arm Juryon and Briareas in that way?

Considering the skill which you and your companion have in fighting an armor, I thought that you would have known better. Here, Eucidimos held his peace, and Dianisodros returned to the previous answer. Don't you think the possession of gold is good? Yes, said. catesipos, and the more the better. And to have money everywhere and always is a good? Certainly, a great good, he said. And you admit that gold is a good? I have admitted that, he replied. And ought not a man then to have gold everywhere and always, and as much as possible in himself, and may he not be deemed the happiest of men who has three talents of gold in his belly, and a talent in his head, and a stator of gold in either eye? Yes, you see, you see,

Eurystimos, said Catesipos, and the Scythians count them the happiest, and bravest of men, who have gold in their own skulls. That is only another instance of your manner of speaking about the dog and father. And what is still more extraordinary, they drink out of their own skulls, guilt, and see the inside of them, and hold their own heads in their hands. And do the Scythians and others see that which has the quality of vision, or that which has not, said Eucetimos? that which has the quality of vision clearly and you also see that which has the quality of vision he said yes i do then do you see our garments yes then our garments have the quality of vision they can see to any extent said catesipos what can they see nothing but you my sweet man may perhaps imagine that they do not see and certainly euthemos you do seem to me to have been caught inappi when you were not asleep, and that if it be possible to say and say nothing, that is what you are doing. And may not a person speak and be silent, said Giannisadros. Impossible, said Catezippos, or be silent and speak. That is still more impossibly said. But when you speak of stones, wood, iron bars, do you not speak of them silent?

Not when I pass a smithy, for then the iron bars make a tremendous noise and outcry if they are touched, so that here your wisdom is strangely mistaken. Please, however, to tell me how you can be silent when speaking. I thought that Catesipos was put upon his medal because Clanius was present. When you are silent, said Euthetemos, are you not silent about all things? Yes, he said. Then the speaking are silent, if speaking things are included in all things? What, said Catesipos, are not all things silent?

"'Certainly not,' said Euthetimos. "'Then, my good friend, did they all speak?' "'Yes, those which speak.' "'Nay,' said Catesipos, "'but the question which I ask is whether all things are silent or speak.' "'Neither and both,' said Dianisodros, quickly interposing. "'I am sure that he will be nonplussed at that answer.' "'Here, Catesipos, as his manner was, burst into a roar of laughter,

"'he said, "'That brother of yours, Eucetimos, has got into a dilemma, all is over with him. This delighted Clinius, whose laughter made Catesipos ten times as uproarious, but I cannot help thinking that the rogue must have picked up this answer from them, for there has been no wisdom like theirs in our time. Why do you laugh, Clinius, I said, at such solemn and beautiful things. Why, Socrates, said Dianysodros, did you ever see a beautiful thing? Yes, Dianisodros, I replied. I have seen many. Were they other than the beautiful, or the same as the beautiful?

Now, I was in a great quandary at having to answer this question, and I thought that I was rightly served for having opened my mouth at all. I said, however, they are not the same as absolute beauty, but they have beauty present with each of them. And are you an ox because an ox is present with you, or are you Dianisodorus because Dianisodorus is present with you? I don't like to hear you say that, I replied. But how, he said, by reason of one thing being present with another, will one thing be another?

Is that your difficulty, I said? For I was beginning to imitate their skill, on which my heart was sent. Yes, he answered, and I, and all the world are in a difficulty about the non-existent. What do you mean, Dione Sadoros, I said, is not the honorable, honorable, and the base base? That, he said, is as I please. And do you please? Yes, he said. Also, you will admit that the same is the same and the other, other, for surely the other

is not the same. I should imagine that even a child will hardly have any difficulty about this. But I think, Dianisadros, that you must have intentionally missed the last question, for in general you seem to me to be a good workman, and to do the dialectician's business excellently well. What, said he, is the business of a good workman? Tell me, in the first place, whose business is hammering? The smiths.

And who's the making of pots? The potters. And who has to kill and skin and mince and boil and cook? The cook I said. And if a man does his business he does rightly? Certainly. And the business of the cook is to cut up and skin. You have admitted that?

Yes, I have admitted that, but you must not be too severe upon me. Then if someone were to kill. mill, mince, boil, roast the cook, he would do his business, and if you were to hammer the smith and potter, he would do their business? Poseidon, I said, this is the crown of wisdom, can I ever hope to have such wisdom of my own? And would you be able, Socrates, to recognize this wisdom when it has become your own? Certainly, I said, if you will allow me, what he said, do you think that you know what is your own? Yes, I do, subject to your correction, for you are the bottom, and Euthetimos is the top of all my wisdom.

Is not that which you would deem your own, he said, that which you have in your own power, and which you are able to use as you would desire, for example, an ox or a sheep, would you not think that your own which you could sell and give and sacrifice to any God whom you pleased, and that which you could not give or sell or sacrifice, you would think, think not to be in your own power? Yes, I said, for I was certain that something good would come of the questions which I was impatient to hear. Yes, such things only are mine. Yes, he said, and you would mean by animals living beings? Yes, I said. You admit then that those animals only are yours, with which you have the power to do all these things which I was just naming? I admit that.

Then, after an ironical pause in which he seemed to be thinking of something great, he said, Tell me, Socrates, have you an ancestral Zeus? Here, anticipating the final move which was to enclose me in the net, In the attempt to get away, I gave a desperate twist and said, No, Dianisodros, I have not. What a miserable man you must be then, he said. You are not an Athenian if you have no ancestral gods or temples, or any other good. nay, Dianisadros, I said, do not be rough, good words, if you please.

In the way of religion, I have altars and temples, domestic and ancestral, and all that other Athenians have. And have not other Athenians, he said, an ancestral Zeus? That name I said is not to be found among the Ionians, whether colonists or citizens of Athens, An ancestral Apollo there is, who is the father of Ion, and a family Zeus, and a Zeus guardian of the freight tree, and an Athene guardian of the freight tree. But the name of ancestral Zeus is unknown to us. No matter, said Giannisadros, for you admit that you have Apollo, Zeus, and Athenny? Certainly, I said. And they are your gods, he said? Yes, I said, my lords and ancestors.

any rate, they are yours, he said. Did you not admit that? I did, I said. What is going to happen to me? And are not these gods animals? For you admit that all things which have life are animals, and have not these gods' life? They have life, I said. And are they not animals? They are animals, I said. And you admitted that of animals, those are yours which you could give away or sell or offer in sacrifices you pleased. I did admit that, Eurystidemos, and I have no way of escape. Well, then, said he, if you admit that Zeus and the other gods are yours, can you sell them, or give them away, or do what you will with them, as you would with other animals? At this, I was quite struck dumb, Crichto, and lay prostrate.

Catesipos came to the rescue. Bravo, Heracles, brave words, said he. Bravo Heracles, or is Heracles a Bravo? said Dionysodros. Poseidon, said Catesipos, what awful distinctions, I will have no more of them. The pair are invincible. Then, my dear Crito, there was universal applause of the speakers in their words, and what with laughing and clapping of hands and rejoicings, the two men were quite overpowered, for hitherto only their partisans had cheered at each successive of hint. But now the whole company shouted with delight until the columns of the Lyceum

returned the sound, seeming almost to sympathize in their joy. To such a pitch was I affected myself that I made a speech in which I acknowledged that I had never seen the like of their wisdom. I was their devoted servant and fell to praising and admiring of them. What marvelous dexterity of what I said and enabled you to acquire this great perfection in such a short time. There is much indeed to admire in your words, Eucidimos, and Giannis Sodros, but there is nothing that I admire more than your magnanimous disregard of any opinion, whether of the many, or of the grave and reverend seniors, which is not the opinion of those who are like-minded with you. And I do verily believe that there are few who are like you, and would approve of your arguments.

The majority of mankind are so ignorant of their value that they would be more ashamed of employing them in the refutation of others, than of being refuted by them. I must further express my approval of your kind and public-spirited denial of all differences, whether of good and evil, white or black, or any other, the result of which is that, as you say, every mouth is stopped, not accepting your own, which graciously follows the example of others, and thus all ground of offense is taken away. But what appears to me to be more than all is that this art and in of yours is so admirably contrived that in a very short time it can be imparted to anyone i observe that katasi posts learn to imitate you in no time now this quickness of attainment is an excellent thing but at the same time i would advise you not to have any more public entertainments there is a danger that men may undervalue an art which they have so easy an opportunity of learning the exhibition would be best of all if the discussion were confined to your two selves but

But if there must be an audience, let him only be present who is willing to pay a handsome fee. You should be careful of this, and if you are wise, you will also bid your disciples' discourse with no man but you and themselves. For only what is rare is valuable, and water, which as Pinder says is the best of all things, is also the cheapest. And now I have only to request that you will receive Clanius and me among your pupils. Such was the discussion, Criedo, and after her, few more words had passed between us we went away. I hope that you will come to them with me,

since they say that they are able to teach anyone who will give them money, however old or stupid. And one thing which they said, I must repeat for your especial benefit, that not even the business of making money need hinder any man from taking in their wisdom with ease. Quito, truly Socrates, though I am curious and ready to learn, yet I fear that I am not like-minded with Euthetimos, but one of the other sort, who, as you were saying, would rather be refuted by such arguments than use them in refutation of others. And, though I may appear ridiculous in venturing to advise you, I think that you may as well hear what was said to me by a man of very considerable pretensions. He was a professor of legal oratory, who came away from you

while I was walking up and down. Crito, said he to me, are you attending to these wise men? No, indeed, I said to him. I could not get within hearing of them. There was such a crowd. You would have heard something worth hearing if you had. What was that, I said? You would have heard the greatest masters of the art of rhetoric discoursing. And what did you think of them, I said. What did I think of them, he said? What anyone would think of them who heard them talking nonsense and making much ado about nothing. That was the expression which he used. surely I said philosophy is a charming thing. Charming, he said, what simplicity, philosophy is not,

and I think that if you had been present, you would have been ashamed of your friend. His conduct was so very strange in placing himself at the mercy of men who care not what they say, and fasten upon every word, and these, as I was telling you, are supposed to be the most eminent professors of their time. But the truth is, Crichto, that the study, and the men themselves are both equally mean and ridiculous. Now, his censure of the pursuit Socrates, whether coming from him or from others, appears to me to be undeserved, but as to the impropriety of holding a public discussion with such men,

I confess that I thought he was in the right about that. Socrates, Oh, Crito, they are marvelous men. But what was I going to say? What manner of man was he who came up to you and censured philosophy? Was he an orator who himself practices in the courts, or an instructor of orators, who makes the speeches with which they do battle? Crichto. He was certainly not an orator, and I doubt whether he had ever been into court, but they say

that he knows the business, and is a clever man, and composes wonderful speeches. Socrates. Now I understand Crichto. He is one of an amphibious class, whom I was on the point of mentioning. one of those whom prodigose describes as on the border ground between philosophers and statesmen. They think that they are the wisest of all men, and that they are generally esteemed the wisest. Nothing but the rivalry of the philosophers stands in their way, and they are of the opinion that if they can prove the philosophers to be good for nothing,

no one will dispute their title to the palm of wisdom. For that, they are really the wisest, although they are apt to be mauled by Euthetamus and his friend, when they get hold of them in conversation. This opinion which they entertain of their own wisdom is very natural, for they have a certain amount of philosophy and a certain amount of political wisdom. There is reason in what they say, for they argue that they have just enough of both, while they keep out of the way of all risks and conflicts, and reap the fruits of their wisdom.

Cretto, what do you say of them, Socrates? There is certainly something specious in that notion of theirs. Socrates, yes, Cretto, there is more speciousness than truth. They cannot be made to understand the nature of intermediates, for all persons or things which are intermediate between two other things, and participant of them, if one of these two things is good and the other evil, are better than the one and worse than the other,

but if they are in a mean between two good things, which do not tend to the same end, they fall short of either of their component elements in the attainment of their ends. Only in the case when the two component elements, which do not tend to the same end are evil, is the participant better than either. Now, if philosophy and political action are both good, but tend to different ends, and they participate in both, and are in a mean between them, then they are talking nonsense, for they are worse than either,

or, if the one be good and the other evil, they are better than the one and worse than the other. Only on the supposition that they are both evil could there be any truth in what they say. I do not think that they will admit that their two pursuits are either wholly or partly evil, but the truth is that these philosopher politicians, who aim at both, fall short of both in the attainment of their respective ends, and are really third, although they would like to stand first. There is no need, however, to be angry at this ambition of theirs. They may be forgiven that, for every man ought to be loved who says,

and manfully pursues, and works out anything, which is at all like wisdom. At the same time, we shall do well to see them as they really are. Quido, I have often told you Socrates that I am in a constant difficulty about my two sons. What am I to do with them? There is no hurry about the younger one, who is only a child, but the other, Quitobulus, is getting on and needs someone who will improve him. I cannot help thinking, when I hear you talk, that there is a sort of madness in many of our anxieties about our children. In the first place, about marrying a wife of good family to be the mother of them,

and then about heaping up money for them, and yet taking no care about their education. But then again, when I contemplate any of those who pretend to educate others, I am amazed. they all seem to me to be such outrageous beings, if I am to confess the truth, so that I do not know how I can advise the youth to study philosophy. Socrates, Dear Crichto, do you not know that in every profession the inferior sort are numerous and good for nothing, and the good are few and beyond all praise? For example, are not gymnastic and rhetoric and money-making and the art of the general noble arts?

Cretto, certainly they are, in my judgment. Socrates, well, and do you not see that in each of these arts the many are ridiculous performers? Cretto, yes indeed, that is very true, Socrates, and will you, on this account, shun all these pursuits yourself and refuse to allow them to your son? Crito, that would not be reasonable, Socrates. Socrates, do you then be reasonable, Cretto, and do not mind what, the teachers of philosophy are good or bad, but think only of philosophy herself. Try and examine her well and truly, and if she be evil, seek to turn away all men from her, and not your sons only, but if she be what I believe that she is, then follow her and serve her,

you and your house, as the saying is, and be of good cheer. And of Euthetemos by Plato, translated by Benjamin Joet.