Persons of the Dialogue
CALLICLES
SOCRATES
CHAEREPHON
GORGIAS
POLUS
Scene
The house of Callicles
Callicles. The wise man,
as the proverb says, is late for a fray, but not for
a feast.
Socrates. And are we late for a feast?
Cal. Yes, and a delightful feast; for Gorgias
has just been exhibiting to us many fine things.
Soc. It is not my fault, Callicles; our
friend Chaerephon is to blame; for he would keep us
loitering in the Agora.
Chaerephon. Never mind, Socrates; the
misfortune of which I have been the cause I will
also repair; for Gorgias is a friend of mine, and I
will make him give the exhibition again either now,
or, if you prefer, at some other time.
Cal. What is the matter, Chaerephon-does
Socrates want to hear Gorgias?
Chaer. Yes, that was our intention in coming.
Cal. Come into my house, then; for Gorgias is
staying with me, and he shall exhibit to you.
Soc. Very good, Callicles; but will he answer
our questions? for I want to hear from him what is
the nature of his art, and what it is which he
professes and teaches; he may, as you [Chaerephon]
suggest, defer the exhibition to some other time.
Cal. There is nothing like asking him,
Socrates; and indeed to answer questions is a part
of his exhibition, for he was saying only just now,
that any one in my house might put any question to
him, and that he would answer.
Soc. How fortunate! will you ask him,
Chaerephon-?
Chaer. What shall I ask him?
Soc. Ask him who he is.
Chaer. What do you mean?
Soc. I mean such a question as would elicit
from him, if he had been a maker of shoes, the
answer that he is a cobbler. Do you understand?
Chaer. I understand, and will ask him: Tell
me, Gorgias, is our friend Callicles right in saying
that you undertake to answer any questions which you
are asked?
Gorgias. Quite right, Chaerephon: I was
saying as much only just now; and I may add, that
many years have elapsed since any one has asked me a
new one.
Chaer. Then you must be very ready, Gorgias.
Gor. Of that, Chaerephon, you can make trial.
Polus. Yes, indeed, and if you like,
Chaerephon, you may make trial of me too, for I
think that Gorgias, who has been talking a long
time, is tired.
Chaer. And do you, Polus, think that you can
answer better than Gorgias?
Pol. What does that matter if I answer well
enough for you?
Chaer. Not at all:-and you shall answer if
you like.
Pol. Ask:-
Chaer. My question is this: If Gorgias had
the skill of his brother Herodicus, what ought we to
call him? Ought he not to have the name which is
given to his brother?
Pol. Certainly.
Chaer. Then we should be right in calling him
a physician?
Pol. Yes.
Chaer. And if he had the skill of Aristophon
the son of Aglaophon, or of his brother Polygnotus,
what ought we to call him?
Pol. Clearly, a painter.
Chaer. But now what shall we call him-what is
the art in which he is skilled.
Pol. O Chaerephon, there are many arts among
mankind which are experimental, and have their
origin in experience, for experience makes the days
of men to proceed according to art, and inexperience
according to chance, and different persons in
different ways are proficient in different arts, and
the best persons in the best arts. And our friend
Gorgias is one of the best, and the art in which he
is a proficient is the noblest.
Soc. Polus has been taught how to make a
capital speech, Gorgias; but he is not fulfilling
the promise which he made to Chaerephon.
Gor. What do you mean, Socrates?
Soc. I mean that he has not exactly answered
the question which he was asked.
Gor. Then why not ask him yourself?
Soc. But I would much rather ask you, if you
are disposed to answer: for I see, from the few
words which Polus has uttered, that he has attended
more to the art which is called rhetoric than to
dialectic.
Pol. What makes you say so, Socrates?
Soc. Because, Polus, when Chaerephon asked
you what was the art which Gorgias knows, you
praised it as if you were answering some one who
found fault with it, but you never said what the art
was.
Pol. Why, did I not say that it was the
noblest of arts?
Soc. Yes, indeed, but that was no answer to
the question: nobody asked what was the quality, but
what was the nature, of the art, and by what name we
were to describe Gorgias. And I would still beg you
briefly and clearly, as you answered Chaerephon when
he asked you at first, to say what this art is, and
what we ought to call Gorgias: Or rather, Gorgias,
let me turn to you, and ask the same question what
are we to call you, and what is the art which you
profess?
Gor. Rhetoric, Socrates, is my art.
Soc. Then I am to call you a rhetorician?
Gor. Yes, Socrates, and a good one too, if
you would call me that which, in Homeric language,
"I boast myself to be."
Soc. I should wish to do so.
Gor. Then pray do.
Soc. And are we to say that you are able to
make other men rhetoricians?
Gor. Yes, that is exactly what I profess to
make them, not only at Athens, but in all places.
Soc. And will you continue to ask and answer
questions, Gorgias, as we are at present doing and
reserve for another occasion the longer mode of
speech which Polus was attempting? Will you keep
your promise, and answer shortly the questions which
are asked of you?
Gor. Some answers, Socrates, are of necessity
longer; but I will do my best to make them as short
as possible; for a part of my profession is that I
can be as short as any one.
Soc. That is what is wanted, Gorgias; exhibit
the shorter method now, and the longer one at some
other time.
Gor. Well, I will; and you will certainly
say, that you never heard a man use fewer words.
Soc. Very good then; as you profess to be a
rhetorician, and a maker of rhetoricians, let me ask
you, with what is rhetoric concerned: I might ask
with what is weaving concerned, and you would reply
(would you not?), with the making of garments?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. And music is concerned with the
composition of melodies?
Gor. It is.
Soc. By Here, Gorgias, I admire the
surpassing brevity of your answers.
Gor. Yes, Socrates, I do think myself good at
that.
Soc. I am glad to hear it; answer me in like
manner about rhetoric: with what is rhetoric
concerned?
Gor. With discourse.
Soc. What sort of discourse, Gorgias?-such
discourse as would teach the sick under what
treatment they might get well?
Gor. No.
Soc. Then rhetoric does not treat of all
kinds of discourse?
Gor. Certainly not.
Soc. And yet rhetoric makes men able to
speak?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. And to understand that about which they
speak?
Gor. Of course.
Soc. But does not the art of medicine, which
we were just now mentioning, also make men able to
understand and speak about the sick?
Gor. Certainly.
Soc. Then medicine also treats of discourse?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. Of discourse concerning diseases?
Gor. Just so.
Soc. And does not gymnastic also treat of
discourse concerning the good or evil condition of
the body?
Gor. Very true.
Soc. And the same, Gorgias, is true of the
other arts:-all of them treat of discourse
concerning the subjects with which they severally
have to do.
Gor. Clearly.
Soc. Then why, if you call rhetoric the art
which treats of discourse, and all the other arts
treat of discourse, do you not call them arts of
rhetoric?
Gor. Because, Socrates, the knowledge of the
other arts has only to do with some sort of external
action, as of the hand; but there is no such action
of the hand in rhetoric which works and takes effect
only through the medium of discourse. And therefore
I am justified in saying that rhetoric treats of
discourse.
Soc. I am not sure whether I entirely
understand you, but I dare say I shall soon know
better; please to answer me a question:-you would
allow that there are arts?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. As to the arts generally, they are for
the most part concerned with doing, and require
little or no speaking; in painting, and statuary,
and many other arts, the work may proceed in
silence; and of such arts I suppose you would say
that they do not come within the province of
rhetoric.
Gor. You perfectly conceive my meaning,
Socrates.
Soc. But there are other arts which work
wholly through the medium of language, and require
either no action or very little, as, for example,
the arts of arithmetic, of calculation, of geometry,
and of playing draughts; in some of these speech is
pretty nearly co-extensive with action, but in most
of them the verbal element is greater-they depend
wholly on words for their efficacy and power: and I
take your meaning to be that rhetoric is an art of
this latter sort?
Gor. Exactly.
Soc. And yet I do not believe that you really
mean to call any of these arts rhetoric; although
the precise expression which you used was, that
rhetoric is an art which works and takes effect only
through the medium of discourse; and an adversary
who wished to be captious might say, "And so,
Gorgias, you call arithmetic rhetoric." But I do not
think that you really call arithmetic rhetoric any
more than geometry would be so called by you.
Gor. You are quite right, Socrates, in your
apprehension of my meaning.
Soc. Well, then, let me now have the rest of
my answer:-seeing that rhetoric is one of those arts
which works mainly by the use of words, and there
are other arts which also use words, tell me what is
that quality in words with which rhetoric is
concerned:-Suppose that a person asks me about some
of the arts which I was mentioning just now; he
might say, "Socrates, what is arithmetic?" and I
should reply to him, as you replied to me, that
arithmetic is one of those arts which take effect
through words. And then he would proceed to ask:
"Words about what?" and I should reply, Words about
and even numbers, and how many there are of each.
And if he asked again: "What is the art of
calculation?" I should say, That also is one of the
arts which is concerned wholly with words. And if he
further said, "Concerned with what?" I should say,
like the clerks in the assembly, "as aforesaid" of
arithmetic, but with a difference, the difference
being that the art of calculation considers not only
the quantities of odd and even numbers, but also
their numerical relations to themselves and to one
another. And suppose, again, I were to say that
astronomy is only word-he would ask, "Words about
what, Socrates?" and I should answer, that astronomy
tells us about the motions of the stars and sun and
moon, and their relative swiftness.
Gor. You would be quite right, Socrates.
Soc. And now let us have from you, Gorgias,
the truth about rhetoric: which you would admit
(would you not?) to be one of those arts which act
always and fulfil all their ends through the medium
of words?
Gor. True.
Soc. Words which do what? I should ask. To
what class of things do the words which rhetoric
uses relate?
Gor. To the greatest, Socrates, and the best
of human things.
Soc. That again, Gorgias is ambiguous; I am
still in the dark: for which are the greatest and
best of human things? I dare say that you have heard
men singing at feasts the old drinking song, in
which the singers enumerate the goods of life, first
health, beauty next, thirdly, as the writer of the
song says, wealth honesty obtained.
Gor. Yes, I know the song; but what is your
drift?
Soc. I mean to say, that the producers of
those things which the author of the song praises,
that is to say, the physician, the trainer, the
money-maker, will at once come to you, and first the
physician will say: "O Socrates, Gorgias is
deceiving you, for my art is concerned with the
greatest good of men and not his." And when I ask,
Who are you? he will reply, "I am a physician." What
do you mean? I shall say. Do you mean that your art
produces the greatest good? "Certainly," he will
answer, "for is not health the greatest good? What
greater good can men have, Socrates?" And after him
the trainer will come and say, "I too, Socrates,
shall be greatly surprised if Gorgias can show more
good of his art than I can show of mine." To him
again I shall say, Who are you, honest friend, and
what is your business? "I am a trainer," he will
reply, "and my business is to make men beautiful and
strong in body." When I have done with the trainer,
there arrives the money-maker, and he, as I expect,
utterly despise them all. "Consider Socrates," he
will say, "whether Gorgias or any one-else can
produce any greater good than wealth." Well, you and
I say to him, and are you a creator of wealth?
"Yes," he replies. And who are you? "A money-maker."
And do you consider wealth to be the greatest good
of man? "Of course," will be his reply. And we shall
rejoin: Yes; but our friend Gorgias contends that
his art produces a greater good than yours. And then
he will be sure to go on and ask, "What good? Let
Gorgias answer." Now I want you, Gorgias, to imagine
that this question is asked of you by them and by
me; What is that which, as you say, is the greatest
good of man, and of which you are the creator?
Answer us.
Gor. That good, Socrates, which is truly the
greatest, being that which gives to men freedom in
their own persons, and to individuals the power of
ruling over others in their several states.
Soc. And what would you consider this to be?
Gor. What is there greater than the word
which persuades the judges in the courts, or the
senators in the council, or the citizens in the
assembly, or at any other political meeting?-if you
have the power of uttering this word, you will have
the physician your slave, and the trainer your
slave, and the money-maker of whom you talk will be
found to gather treasures, not for himself, but for
you who are able to speak and to persuade the
multitude.
Soc. Now I think, Gorgias, that you have very
accurately explained what you conceive to be the art
of rhetoric; and you mean to say, if I am not
mistaken, that rhetoric is the artificer of
persuasion, having this and no other business, and
that this is her crown and end. Do you know any
other effect of rhetoric over and above that of
producing persuasion?
Gor. No: the definition seems to me very
fair, Socrates; for persuasion is the chief end of
rhetoric.
Soc. Then hear me, Gorgias, for I am quite
sure that if there ever was a man who-entered on the
discussion of a matter from a pure love of knowing
the truth, I am such a one, and I should say the
same of you.
Gor. What is coming, Socrates?
Soc. I will tell you: I am very well aware
that do not know what, according to you, is the
exact nature, or what are the topics of that
persuasion of which you speak, and which is given by
rhetoric; although I have a suspicion about both the
one and the other. And I am going to ask-what is
this power of persuasion which is given by rhetoric,
and about what? But why, if I have a suspicion, do I
ask instead of telling you? Not for your sake, but
in order that the argument may proceed in such a
manner as is most likely to set forth the truth. And
I would have you observe, that I am right in asking
this further question: If I asked, "What sort of a
painter is Zeuxis?" and you said, "The painter of
figures," should I not be right in asking, What kind
of figures, and where do you find them?"
Gor. Certainly.
Soc. And the reason for asking this second
question would be, that there are other painters
besides, who paint many other figures?
Gor. True.
Soc. But if there had been no one but Zeuxis
who painted them, then you would have answered very
well?
Gor. Quite so.
Soc. Now I was it to know about rhetoric in
the same way;-is rhetoric the only art which brings
persuasion, or do other arts have the same effect? I
mean to say-Does he who teaches anything persuade
men of that which he teaches or not?
Gor. He persuades, Socrates,-there can be no
mistake about that.
Soc. Again, if we take the arts of which we
were just now speaking:-do not arithmetic and the
arithmeticians teach us the properties of number?
Gor. Certainly.
Soc. And therefore persuade us of them?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. Then arithmetic as well as rhetoric is
an artificer of persuasion?
Gor. Clearly.
Soc. And if any one asks us what sort of
persuasion, and about what,-we shall answer,
persuasion which teaches the quantity of odd and
even; and we shall be able to show that all the
other arts of which we were just now speaking are
artificers of persuasion, and of what sort, and
about what.
Gor. Very true.
Soc. Then rhetoric is not the only artificer
of persuasion?
Gor. True.
Soc. Seeing, then, that not only rhetoric
works by persuasion, but that other arts do the
same, as in the case of the painter, a question has
arisen which is a very fair one: Of what persuasion
is rhetoric the artificer, and about what?-is not
that a fair way of putting the question?
Gor. I think so.
Soc. Then, if you approve the question,
Gorgias, what is the answer?
Gor. I answer, Socrates, that rhetoric is the
art of persuasion in courts of law and other
assemblies, as I was just now saying, and about the
just and unjust.
Soc. And that, Gorgias, was what I was
suspecting to be your notion; yet I would not have
you wonder if by-and-by I am found repeating a
seemingly plain question; for I ask not in order to
confute you, but as I was saying that the argument
may proceed consecutively, and that we may not get
the habit of anticipating and suspecting the meaning
of one another's words; I would have you develop
your own views in your own way, whatever may be your
hypothesis.
Gor. I think that you are quite right,
Socrates.
Soc. Then let me raise another question;
there is such a thing as "having learned"?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. And there is also "having believed"?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. And is the "having learned" the same
"having believed," and are learning and belief the
same things?
Gor. In my judgment, Socrates, they are not
the same.
Soc. And your judgment is right, as you may
ascertain in this way:-If a person were to say to
you, "Is there, Gorgias, a false belief as well as a
true?" -you would reply, if I am not mistaken, that
there is.
Gor. Yes.
Soc. Well, but is there a false knowledge as
well as a true?
Gor. No.
Soc. No, indeed; and this again proves that
knowledge and belief differ.
Gor. Very true.
Soc. And yet those who have learned as well
as those who have believed are persuaded?
Gor. Just so.
Soc. Shall we then assume two sorts of
persuasion,-one which is the source of belief
without knowledge, as the other is of knowledge?
Gor. By all means.
Soc. And which sort of persuasion does
rhetoric create in courts of law and other
assemblies about the just and unjust, the sort of
persuasion which gives belief without knowledge, or
that which gives knowledge?
Gor. Clearly, Socrates, that which only gives
belief.
Soc. Then rhetoric, as would appear, is the
artificer of a persuasion which creates belief about
the just and unjust, but gives no instruction about
them?
Gor. True.
Soc. And the rhetorician does not instruct
the courts of law or other assemblies about things
just and unjust, but he creates belief about them;
for no one can be supposed to instruct such a vast
multitude about such high matters in a short time?
Gor. Certainly not.
Soc. Come, then, and let us see what we
really mean about rhetoric; for I do not know what
my own meaning is as yet. When the assembly meets to
elect a physician or a shipwright or any other
craftsman, will the rhetorician be taken into
counsel? Surely not. For at every election he ought
to be chosen who is most skilled; and, again, when
walls have to be built or harbours or docks to be
constructed, not the rhetorician but the master
workman will advise; or when generals have to be
chosen and an order of battle arranged, or a
proposition taken, then the military will advise and
not the rhetoricians: what do you say, Gorgias?
Since you profess to be a rhetorician and a maker of
rhetoricians, I cannot do better than learn the
nature of your art from you. And here let me assure
you that I have your interest in view as well as my
own. For likely enough some one or other of the
young men present might desire to become your pupil,
and in fact I see some, and a good many too, who
have this wish, but they would be too modest to
question you. And therefore when you are
interrogated by me, I would have you imagine that
you are interrogated by them. "What is the use of
coming to you, Gorgias? they will say about what
will you teach us to advise the state?-about the
just and unjust only, or about those other things
also which Socrates has just mentioned? How will you
answer them?
Gor. I like your way of leading us on,
Socrates, and I will endeavour to reveal to you the
whole nature of rhetoric. You must have heard, I
think, that the docks and the walls of the Athenians
and the plan of the harbour were devised in
accordance with the counsels, partly of
Themistocles, and partly of Pericles, and not at the
suggestion of the builders.
Soc. Such is the tradition, Gorgias, about
Themistocles; and I myself heard the speech of
Pericles when he advised us about the middle wall.
Gor. And you will observe, Socrates, that
when a decision has to be given in such matters the
rhetoricians are the advisers; they are the men who
win their point.
Soc. I had that in my admiring mind, Gorgias,
when I asked what is the nature of rhetoric, which
always appears to me, when I look at the matter in
this way, to be a marvel of greatness.
Gor. A marvel, indeed, Socrates, if you only
knew how rhetoric comprehends and holds under her
sway all the inferior arts. Let me offer you a
striking example of this. On several occasions I
have been with my brother Herodicus or some other
physician to see one of his patients, who would not
allow the physician to give him medicine, or apply a
knife or hot iron to him; and I have persuaded him
to do for me what he would not do for the physician
just by the use of rhetoric. And I say that if a
rhetorician and a physician were to go to any city,
and had there to argue in the Ecclesia or any other
assembly as to which of them should be elected
state-physician, the physician would have no chance;
but he who could speak would be chosen if he wished;
and in a contest with a man of any other profession
the rhetorician more than any one would have the
power of getting himself chosen, for he can speak
more persuasively to the multitude than any of them,
and on any subject. Such is the nature and power of
the art of rhetoric And yet, Socrates, rhetoric
should be used like any other competitive art, not
against everybody-the rhetorician ought not to abuse
his strength any more than a pugilist or pancratiast
or other master of fence; because he has powers
which are more than a match either for friend or
enemy, he ought not therefore to strike, stab, or
slay his friends. Suppose a man to have been trained
in the palestra and to be a skilful boxer-he in the
fulness of his strength goes and strikes his father
or mother or one of his familiars or friends; but
that is no reason why the trainers or
fencing-masters should be held in detestation or
banished from the city-surely not. For they taught
their art for a good purpose, to be used against
enemies and evil-doers, in self-defence not in
aggression, and others have perverted their
instructions, and turned to a bad use their own
strength and skill. But not on this account are the
teachers bad, neither is the art in fault, or bad in
itself; I should rather say that those who make a
bad use of the art are to blame. And the same
argument holds good of rhetoric; for the rhetorician
can speak against all men and upon any subject-in
short, he can persuade the multitude better than any
other man of anything which he pleases, but he
should not therefore seek to defraud the physician
or any other artist of his reputation merely because
he has the power; he ought to use rhetoric fairly,
as he would also use his athletic powers. And if
after having become a rhetorician he makes a bad use
of his strength and skill, his instructor surely
ought not on that account to be held in detestation
or banished. For he was intended by his teacher to
make a good use of his instructions, but he abuses
them. And therefore he is the person who ought to be
held in detestation, banished, and put to death, and
not his instructor.
Soc. You, Gorgias, like myself, have had
great experience of disputations, and you must have
observed, I think, that they do not always terminate
in mutual edification, or in the definition by
either party of the subjects which they are
discussing; but disagreements are apt to
arise-somebody says that another has not spoken
truly or clearly; and then they get into a passion
and begin to quarrel, both parties conceiving that
their opponents are arguing from personal feeling
only and jealousy of themselves, not from any
interest in the question at issue. And sometimes
they will go on abusing one another until the
company at last are quite vexed at themselves for
ever listening to such fellows. Why do I say this?
Why, because I cannot help feeling that you are now
saying what is not quite consistent or accordant
with what you were saying at first about rhetoric.
And I am afraid to point this out to you, lest you
should think that I have some animosity against you,
and that I speak, not for the sake of discovering
the truth, but from jealousy of you. Now if you are
one of my sort, I should like to cross-examine you,
but if not I will let you alone. And what is my
sort? you will ask. I am one of those who are very
willing to be refuted if I say anything which is not
true, and very willing to refute any one else who
says what is not true, and quite as ready to be
refuted as to refute-I for I hold that this is the
greater gain of the two, just as the gain is greater
of being cured of a very great evil than of curing
another. For I imagine that there is no evil which a
man can endure so great as an erroneous opinion
about the matters of which we are speaking and if
you claim to be one of my sort, let us have the
discussion out, but if you would rather have done,
no matter-let us make an end of it.
Gor. I should say, Socrates, that I am quite
the man whom you indicate; but, perhaps, we ought to
consider the audience, for, before you came, I had
already given a long exhibition, and if we proceed
the argument may run on to a great length. And
therefore I think that we should consider whether
we, may not be detaining some part of the company
when they are wanting to do something else.
Chaer. You hear the audience cheering,
Gorgias and Socrates, which shows their desire to
listen to you; and for myself, Heaven forbid that I
should have any business on hand which would take me
Away from a discussion so interesting and so ably
maintained.
Cal. By the gods, Chaerephon, although I have
been present at many discussions, I doubt whether I
was ever so much delighted before, and therefore if
you go on discoursing all day I shall be the better
pleased.
Soc. I may truly say, Callicles, that I am
willing, if Gorgias is.
Gor. After all this, Socrates, I should be
disgraced if I refused, especially as I have
promised to answer all comers; in accordance with
the wishes of the company, them, do you begin. and
ask of me any question which you like.
Soc. Let me tell you then, Gorgias, what
surprises me in your words; though I dare say that
you may be right, and I may have understood your
meaning. You say that you can make any man, who will
learn of you, a rhetorician?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. Do you mean that you will teach him to
gain the ears of the multitude on any subject, and
this not by instruction but by persuasion?
Gor. Quite so.
Soc. You were saying, in fact, that the
rhetorician will have, greater powers of persuasion
than the physician even in a matter of health?
Gor. Yes, with the multitude-that is.
Soc. You mean to say, with the ignorant; for
with those who know he cannot be supposed to have
greater powers of persuasion.
Gor. Very true.
Soc. But if he is to have more power of
persuasion than the physician, he will have greater
power than he who knows?
Gor. Certainly.
Soc. Although he is not a physician:-is he?
Gor. No.
Soc. And he who is not a physician must,
obviously, be ignorant of what the physician knows.
Gor. Clearly.
Soc. Then, when the rhetorician is more
persuasive than the physician, the ignorant is more
persuasive with the ignorant than he who has
knowledge?-is not that the inference?
Gor. In the case supposed:-Yes.
Soc. And the same holds of the relation of
rhetoric to all the other arts; the rhetorician need
not know the truth about things; he has only to
discover some way of persuading the ignorant that he
has more knowledge than those who know?
Gor. Yes, Socrates, and is not this a great
comfort?-not to have learned the other arts, but the
art of rhetoric only, and yet to be in no way
inferior to the professors of them?
Soc. Whether the rhetorician is or not
inferior on this account is a question which we will
hereafter examine if the enquiry is likely to be of
any service to us; but I would rather begin by
asking, whether he is as ignorant of the just and
unjust, base and honourable, good and evil, as he is
of medicine and the other arts; I mean to say, does
he really know anything of what is good and evil,
base or honourable, just or unjust in them; or has
he only a way with the ignorant of persuading them
that he not knowing is to be esteemed to know more
about these things than some. one else who knows? Or
must the pupil know these things and come to you
knowing them before he can acquire the art of
rhetoric? If he is ignorant, you who are the teacher
of rhetoric will not teach him-it is not your
business; but you will make him seem to the
multitude to know them, when he does not know them;
and seem to be a good man, when he is not. Or will
you be unable to teach him rhetoric at all, unless
he knows the truth of these things first? What is to
be said about all this? By heavens, Gorgias, I wish
that you would reveal to me the power of rhetoric,
as you were saying that you would.
Gor. Well, Socrates, I suppose that if the
pupil does chance not to know them, he will have to
learn of me these things as well.
Soc. Say no more, for there you are right;
and so he whom you make a rhetorician must either
know the nature of the just and unjust already, or
he must be taught by you.
Gor. Certainly.
Soc. Well, and is not he who has learned
carpentering a carpenter?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. And he who has learned music a musician?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. And he who has learned medicine is a
physician, in like manner? He who has learned
anything whatever is that which his knowledge makes
him.
Gor. Certainly.
Soc. And in the same way, he who has learned
what is just is just?
Gor. To be sure.
Soc. And he who is just may be supposed to do
what is just?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. And must not the just man always desire
to do what is just?
Gor. That is clearly the inference.
Soc. Surely, then, the just man will never
consent to do injustice?
Gor. Certainly not.
Soc. And according to the argument the
rhetorician must be a just man?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. And will therefore never be willing to
do injustice?
Gor. Clearly not.
Soc. But do you remember saying just now that
the trainer is not to be accused or banished if the
pugilist makes a wrong use of his pugilistic art;
and in like manner, if the rhetorician makes a bad
and unjust use of rhetoric, that is not to be laid
to the charge of his teacher, who is not to be
banished, but the wrong-doer himself who made a bad
use of his rhetoric-he is to be banished-was not
that said?
Gor. Yes, it was.
Soc. But now we are affirming that the
aforesaid rhetorician will never have done injustice
at all?
Gor. True.
Soc. And at the very outset, Gorgias, it was
said that rhetoric treated of discourse, not [like
arithmetic] about odd and even, but about just and
unjust? Was not this said?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. I was thinking at the time, when I heard
you saying so, that rhetoric, which is always
discoursing about justice, could not possibly be an
unjust thing. But when you added, shortly
afterwards, that the rhetorician might make a bad
use of rhetoric I noted with surprise the
inconsistency into which you had fallen; and I said,
that if you thought, as I did, that there was a gain
in being refuted, there would be an advantage in
going on with the question, but if not, I would
leave off. And in the course of our investigations,
as you will see yourself, the rhetorician has been
acknowledged to be incapable of making an unjust use
of rhetoric, or of willingness to do injustice. By
the dog, Gorgias, there will be a great deal of
discussion, before we get at the truth of all this.
Polus. And do even you, Socrates, seriously
believe what you are now saying about rhetoric?
What! because Gorgias was ashamed to deny that the
rhetorician knew the just and the honourable and the
good, and admitted that to any one who came to him
ignorant of them he could teach them, and then out
of this admission there arose a contradiction-the
thing which you dearly love, and to which not he,
but you, brought the argument by your captious
questions-[do you seriously believe that there is
any truth in all this?] For will any one ever
acknowledge that he does not know, or cannot teach,
the nature of justice? The truth is, that there is
great want of manners in bringing the argument to
such a pass.
Soc. Illustrious Polus, the reason why we
provide ourselves with friends and children is, that
when we get old and stumble, a younger generation
may be at hand to set us on our legs again in our
words and in our actions: and now, if I and Gorgias
are stumbling, here are you who should raise us up;
and I for my part engage to retract any error into
which you may think that I have fallen-upon one
condition:
Pol. What condition?
Soc. That you contract, Polus, the prolixity
of speech in which you indulged at first.
Pol. What! do you mean that I may not use as
many words as I please?
Soc. Only to think, my friend, that having
come on a visit to Athens, which is the most
free-spoken state in Hellas, you when you got there,
and you alone, should be deprived of the power of
speech-that would be hard indeed. But then consider
my case:-shall not I be very hardly used, if, when
you are making a long oration, and refusing to
answer what you are asked, I am compelled to stay
and listen to you, and may not go away? I say
rather, if you have a real interest in the argument,
or, to repeat my former expression, have any desire
to set it on its legs, take back any statement which
you please; and in your turn ask and answer, like
myself and Gorgias-refute and be refuted: for I
suppose that you would claim to know what Gorgias
knows-would you not?
Pol. Yes.
Soc. And you, like him, invite any one to ask
you about anything which he pleases, and you will
know how to answer him?
Pol. To be sure.
Soc. And now, which will you do, ask or
answer?
Pol. I will ask; and do you answer me,
Socrates, the same question which Gorgias, as you
suppose, is unable to answer: What is rhetoric?
Soc. Do you mean what sort of an art?
Pol. Yes.
Soc. To say the truth, Polus, it is not an
art at all, in my opinion.
Pol. Then what, in your opinion, is rhetoric?
Soc. A thing which, as I was lately reading
in a book of yours, you say that you have made an
art.
Pol. What thing?
Soc. I should say a sort of experience.
Pol. Does rhetoric seem to you to be an
experience?
Soc. That is my view, but you may be of
another mind.
Pol. An experience in what?
Soc. An experience in producing a sort of
delight and gratification.
Pol. And if able to gratify others, must not
rhetoric be a fine thing?
Soc. What are you saying, Polus? Why do you
ask me whether rhetoric is a fine thing or not, when
I have not as yet told you what rhetoric is?
Pol. Did I not hear you say that rhetoric was
a sort of experience?
Soc. Will you, who are so desirous to gratify
others, afford a slight gratification to me?
Pol. I will.
Soc. Will you ask me, what sort of an art is
cookery?
Pol. What sort of an art is cookery?
Soc. Not an art at all, Polus.
Pol. What then?
Soc. I should say an experience.
Pol. In what? I wish that you would explain
to me.
Soc. An experience in producing a sort of
delight and gratification, Polus.
Pol. Then are cookery and rhetoric the same?
Soc. No, they are only different parts of the
same profession.
Pol. Of what profession?
Soc. I am afraid that the truth may seem
discourteous; and I hesitate to answer, lest Gorgias
should imagine that I am making fun of his own
profession. For whether or no this is that art of
rhetoric which Gorgias practises I really cannot
tell:-from what he was just now saying, nothing
appeared of what he thought of his art, but the
rhetoric which I mean is a part of a not very
creditable whole.
Gor. A part of what, Socrates? Say what you
mean, and never mind me.
Soc. In my opinion then, Gorgias, the whole
of which rhetoric is a part is not an art at all,
but the habit of a bold and ready wit, which knows
how to manage mankind: this habit I sum up under the
word "flattery"; and it appears to me to have many
other parts, one of which is cookery, which may seem
to be an art, but, as I maintain, is only an
experience or routine and not an art:-another part
is rhetoric, and the art of attiring and sophistry
are two others: thus there are four branches, and
four different things answering to them. And Polus
may ask, if he likes, for he has not as yet been
informed, what part of flattery is rhetoric: he did
not see that I had not yet answered him when he
proceeded to ask a further question: Whether I do
not think rhetoric a fine thing? But I shall not
tell him whether rhetoric is a fine thing or not,
until I have first answered, "What is rhetoric?" For
that would not be right, Polus; but I shall be happy
to answer, if you will ask me, What part of flattery
is rhetoric?
Pol. I will ask and do you answer? What part
of flattery is rhetoric?
Soc. Will you understand my answer? Rhetoric,
according to my view, is the ghost or counterfeit of
a part of politics.
Pol. And noble or ignoble?
Soc. Ignoble, I should say, if I am compelled
to answer, for I call what is bad ignoble: though I
doubt whether you understand what I was saying
before.
Gor. Indeed, Socrates, I cannot say that I
understand myself.
Soc. I do not wonder, Gorgias; for I have not
as yet explained myself, and our friend Polus, colt
by name and colt by nature, is apt to run away.
Gor. Never mind him, but explain to me what
you mean by saying that rhetoric is the counterfeit
of a part of politics.
Soc. I will try, then, to explain my notion
of rhetoric, and if I am mistaken, my friend Polus
shall refute me. We may assume the existence of
bodies and of souls?
Gor. Of course.
Soc. You would further admit that there is a
good condition of either of them?
Gor. Yes.
Soc. Which condition may not be really good,
but good only in appearance? I mean to say, that
there are many persons who appear to be in good
health, and whom only a physician or trainer will
discern at first sight not to be in good health.
Gor. True.
Soc. And this applies not only to the body,
but also to the soul: in either there may be that
which gives the appearance of health and not the
reality?
Gor. Yes, certainly.
Soc. And now I will endeavour to explain to
you more clearly what I mean: The soul and body
being two, have two arts corresponding to them:
there is the art of politics attending on the soul;
and another art attending on the body, of which I
know no single name, but which may be described as
having two divisions, one of them gymnastic, and the
other medicine. And in politics there is a
legislative part, which answers to gymnastic, as
justice does to medicine; and the two parts run into
one another, justice having to do with the same
subject as legislation, and medicine with the same
subject as gymnastic, but with a difference. Now,
seeing that there are these four arts, two attending
on the body and two on the soul for their highest
good; flattery knowing, or rather guessing their
natures, has distributed herself into four shams or
simulations of them; she puts on the likeness of
some one or other of them, and pretends to be that
which she simulates, and having no regard for men's
highest interests, is ever making pleasure the bait
of the unwary, and deceiving them into the belief
that she is of the highest value to them. Cookery
simulates the disguise of medicine, and pretends to
know what food is the best for the body; and if the
physician and the cook had to enter into a
competition in which children were the judges, or
men who had no more sense than children, as to which
of them best understands the goodness or badness of
food, the physician would be starved to death. A
flattery I deem this to be and of an ignoble sort,
Polus, for to you I am now addressing myself,
because it aims at pleasure without any thought of
the best. An art I do not call it, but only an
experience, because it is unable to explain or to
give a reason of the nature of its own applications.
And I do not call any irrational thing an art; but
if you dispute my words, I am prepared to argue in
defence of them.
Cookery, then, I maintain to be a flattery which
takes the form of medicine; and tiring, in like
manner, is a flattery which takes the form of
gymnastic, and is knavish, false, ignoble,
illiberal, working deceitfully by the help of lines,
and colours, and enamels, and garments, and making
men affect a spurious beauty to the neglect of the
true beauty which is given by gymnastic.
I would rather not be tedious, and therefore I will
only say, after the manner of the geometricians (for
I think that by this time you will be able to
follow)
astiring : gymnastic :: cookery : medicine; or
rather,
astiring : gymnastic :: sophistry : legislation; and
as cookery : medicine :: rhetoric : justice. And
this, I say, is the natural difference between the
rhetorician and the sophist, but by reason of their
near connection, they are apt to be jumbled up
together; neither do they know what to make of
themselves, nor do other men know what to make of
them. For if the body presided over itself, and were
not under the guidance of the soul, and the soul did
not discern and discriminate between cookery and
medicine, but the body was made the judge of them,
and the rule of judgment was the bodily delight
which was given by them, then the word of
Anaxagoras, that word with which you, friend Polus,
are so well acquainted, would prevail far and wide:
"Chaos" would come again, and cookery, health, and
medicine would mingle in an indiscriminate mass. And
now I have told you my notion of rhetoric, which is,
in relation to the soul, what cookery is to the
body. I may have been inconsistent in making a long
speech, when I would not allow you to discourse at
length. But I think that I may be excused, because
you did not understand me, and could make no use of
my answer when I spoke shortly, and therefore I had
to enter into explanation. And if I show an equal
inability to make use of yours, I hope that you will
speak at equal length; but if I am able to
understand you, let me have the benefit of your
brevity, as is only fair: And now you may do what
you please with my answer.
Pol. What do you mean? do you think that
rhetoric is flattery?
Soc. Nay, I said a part of flattery-if at
your age, Polus, you cannot remember, what will you
do by-and-by, when you get older?
Pol. And are the good rhetoricians meanly
regarded in states, under the idea that they are
flatterers?
Soc. Is that a question or the beginning of a
speech?
Pol. I am asking a question.
Soc. Then my answer is, that they are not
regarded at all.
Pol. How not regarded? Have they not very
great power in states?
Soc. Not if you mean to say that power is a
good to the possessor.
Pol. And that is what I do mean to say.
Soc. Then, if so, I think that they have the
least power of all the citizens.
Pol. What! Are they not like tyrants? They
kill and despoil and exile any one whom they please.
Soc. By the dog, Polus, I cannot make out at
each deliverance of yours, whether you are giving an
opinion of your own, or asking a question of me.
Pol. I am asking a question of you.
Soc. Yes, my friend, but you ask two
questions at once.
Pol. How two questions?
Soc. Why, did you not say just now that the
rhetoricians are like tyrants, and that they kill
and despoil or exile any one whom they please?
Pol. I did.
Soc. Well then, I say to you that here are
two questions in one, and I will answer both of
them. And I tell you, Polus, that rhetoricians and
tyrants have the least possible power in states, as
I was just now saying; for they do literally nothing
which they will, but only what they think best.
Pol. And is not that a great power?
Soc. Polus has already said the reverse.
Soc. No, by the great-what do you call
him?-not you, for you say that power is a good to
him who has the power.
Pol. I do.
Soc. And would you maintain that if a fool
does what he think best, this is a good, and would
you call this great power?
Pol. I should not.
Soc. Then you must prove that the rhetorician
is not a fool, and that rhetoric is an art and not a
flattery-and so you will have refuted me; but if you
leave me unrefuted, why, the rhetoricians who do
what they think best in states, and the tyrants,
will have nothing upon which to congratulate
themselves, if as you say, power be indeed a good,
admitting at the same time that what is done without
sense is an evil.
Pol. Yes; I admit that.
Soc. How then can the rhetoricians or the
tyrants have great power in states, unless Polus can
refute Socrates, and prove to him that they do as
they will?
Pol. This fellow-
Soc. I say that they do not do as they
will-now refute me.
Pol. Why, have you not already said that they
do as they think best?
Soc. And I say so still.
Pol. Then surely they do as they will?
Soc. I deny it.
Pol. But they do what they think best?
Soc. Aye.
Pol. That, Socrates, is monstrous and absurd.
Soc. Good words, good Polus, as I may say in
your own peculiar style; but if you have any
questions to ask of me, either prove that I am in
error or give the answer yourself.
Pol. Very well, I am willing to answer that I
may know what you mean.
Soc. Do men appear to you to will that which
they do, or to will that further end for the sake of
which they do a thing? when they take medicine, for
example, at the bidding of a physician, do they will
the drinking of the medicine which is painful, or
the health for the sake of which they drink?
Pol. Clearly, the health.
Soc. And when men go on a voyage or engage in
business, they do not will that which they are doing
at the time; for who would desire to take the risk
of a voyage or the trouble of business?-But they
will, to have the wealth for the sake of which they
go on a voyage.
Pol. Certainly.
Soc. And is not this universally true? If a
man does something for the sake of something else,
he wills not that which he does, but that for the
sake of which he does it.
Pol. Yes.
Soc. And are not all things either good or
evil, or intermediate and indifferent?
Pol. To be sure, Socrates.
Soc. Wisdom and health and wealth and the
like you would call goods, and their opposites
evils?
Pol. I should.
Soc. And the things which are neither good
nor evil, and which partake sometimes of the nature
of good and at other times of evil, or of neither,
are such as sitting, walking, running, sailing; or,
again, wood, stones, and the like:-these are the
things which you call neither good nor evil?
Pol. Exactly so.
Soc. Are these indifferent things done for
the sake of the good, or the good for the sake of
the indifferent?
Pol. Clearly, the indifferent for the sake of
the good.
Soc. When we walk we walk for the sake of the
good, and under the idea that it is better to walk,
and when we stand we stand equally for the sake of
the good?
Pol. Yes.
Soc. And when we kill a man we kill him or
exile him or despoil him of his goods, because, as
we think, it will conduce to our good?
Pol. Certainly.
Soc. Men who do any of these things do them
for the sake of the good?
Pol. Yes.
Soc. And did we not admit that in doing
something for the sake of something else, we do not
will those things which we do, but that other thing
for the sake of which we do them?
Pol. Most true.
Soc. Then we do not will simply to kill a man
or to exile him or to despoil him of his goods, but
we will to do that which conduces to our good, and
if the act is not conducive to our good we do not
will it; for we will, as you say, that which is our
good, but that which is neither good nor evil, or
simply evil, we do not will. Why are you silent,
Polus? Am I not right?
Pol. You are right.
Soc. Hence we may infer, that if any one,
whether he be a tyrant or a rhetorician, kills
another or exiles another or deprives him of his
property, under the idea that the act is for his own
interests when really not for his own interests, he
may be said to do what seems best to him?
Pol. Yes.
Soc. But does he do what he wills if he does
what is evil? Why do you not answer?
Pol. Well, I suppose not.
Soc. Then if great power is a good as you
allow, will such a one have great power in a state?
Pol. He will not.
Soc. Then I was right in saying that a man
may do what seems good to him in a state, and not
have great power, and not do what he wills?
Pol. As though you, Socrates, would not like
to have the power of doing what seemed good to you
in the state, rather than not; you would not be
jealous when you saw any one killing or despoiling
or imprisoning whom he pleased, Oh, no!
Soc. Justly or unjustly, do you mean?
Pol. In either case is he not equally to be
envied?
Soc. Forbear, Polus!
Pol. Why "forbear"?
Soc. Because you ought not to envy wretches
who are not to be envied, but only to pity them.
Pol. And are those of whom spoke wretches?
Soc. Yes, certainly they are.
Pol. And so you think that he who slays any
one whom he pleases, and justly slays him, is
pitiable and wretched?
Soc. No, I do not say that of him: but
neither do I think that he is to be envied.
Pol. Were you not saying just now that he is
wretched?
Soc. Yes, my friend, if he killed another
unjustly, in which case he is also to be pitied; and
he is not to be envied if he killed him justly.
Pol. At any rate you will allow that he who
is unjustly put to death is wretched, and to be
pitied?
Soc. Not so much, Polus, as he who kills him,
and not so much as he who is justly killed.
Pol. How can that be, Socrates?
Soc. That may very well be, inasmuch as doing
injustice is the greatest of evils.
Pol. But is it the greatest? Is not suffering
injustice a greater evil?
Soc. Certainly not.
Pol. Then would you rather suffer than do
injustice?
Soc. I should not like either, but if I must
choose between them, I would rather suffer than do.
Pol. Then you would not wish to be a tyrant?
Soc. Not if you mean by tyranny what I mean.
Pol. I mean, as I said before, the power of
doing whatever seems good to you in a state,
killing, banishing, doing in all things as you like.
Soc. Well then, illustrious friend, when I
have said my say, do you reply to me. Suppose that I
go into a crowded Agora, and take a dagger under my
arm. Polus, I say to you, I have just acquired rare
power, and become a tyrant; for if I think that any
of these men whom you see ought to be put to death,
the man whom I have a mind to kill is as good as
dead; and if I am disposed to break his head or tear
his garment, he will have his head broken or his
garment torn in an instant. Such is my great power
in this city. And if you do not believe me, and I
show you the dagger, you would probably reply:
Socrates, in that sort of way any one may have great
power-he may burn any house which he pleases, and
the docks and triremes of the Athenians, and all
their other vessels, whether public or private-but
can you believe that this mere doing as you think
best is great power?
Pol. Certainly not such doing as this.
Soc. But can you tell me why you disapprove
of such a power?
Pol. I can.
Soc. Why then?
Pol. Why, because he who did as you say would
be certain to be punished.
Soc. And punishment is an evil?
Pol. Certainly.
Soc. And you would admit once more, my good
sir, that great power is a benefit to a man if his
actions turn out to his advantage, and that this is
the meaning of great power; and if not, then his
power is an evil and is no power. But let us look at
the matter in another way do we not acknowledge that
the things of which we were speaking, the infliction
of death, and exile, and the deprivation of property
are sometimes a good and sometimes not a good?
Pol. Certainly.
Soc. About that you and I may be supposed to
agree?
Pol. Yes.
Soc. Tell me, then, when do you say that they
are good and when that they are evil-what principle
do you lay down?
Pol. I would rather, Socrates, that you
should answer as well as ask that question.
Soc. Well, Polus, since you would rather have
the answer from me, I say that they are good when
they are just, and evil when they are unjust.
Pol. You are hard of refutation, Socrates,
but might not a child refute that statement?
Soc. Then I shall be very grateful to the
child, and equally grateful to you if you will
refute me and deliver me from my foolishness. And I
hope that refute me you will, and not weary of doing
good to a friend.
Pol. Yes, Socrates, and I need not go far or
appeal to antiquity; events which happened only a
few days ago are enough to refute you, and to prove
that many men who do wrong are happy.
Soc. What events?
Pol. You see, I presume, that Archelaus the
son of Perdiccas is now the ruler of Macedonia?
Soc. At any rate I hear that he is.
Pol. And do you think that he is happy or
miserable?
Soc. I cannot say, Polus, for I have never
had any acquaintance with him.
Pol. And cannot you tell at once, and without
having an acquaintance with him, whether a man is
happy?
Soc. Most certainly not.
Pol. Then clearly, Socrates, you would say
that you did not even know whether the great king
was a happy man?
Soc. And I should speak the truth; for I do
not know how he stands in the matter of education
and justice.
Pol. What! and does all happiness consist in
this?
Soc. Yes, indeed, Polus, that is my doctrine;
the men and women who are gentle and good are also
happy, as I maintain, and the unjust and evil are
miserable.
Pol. Then, according to your doctrine, the
said Archelaus is miserable?
Soc. Yes, my friend, if he is wicked.
Pol. That he is wicked I cannot deny; for he
had no title at all to the throne which he now
occupies, he being only the son of a woman who was
the slave of Alcetas the brother of Perdiccas; he
himself therefore in strict right was the slave of
Alcetas; and if he had meant to do rightly he would
have remained his slave, and then, according to your
doctrine, he would have been happy. But now he is
unspeakably miserable, for he has been guilty of the
greatest crimes: in the first place he invited his
uncle and master, Alcetas, to come to him, under the
pretence that he would restore to him the throne
which Perdiccas has usurped, and after entertaining
him and his son Alexander, who was his own cousin,
and nearly of an age with him, and making them
drunk, he threw them into a waggon and carried them
off by night, and slew them, and got both of them
out of the way; and when he had done all this
wickedness he never discovered that he was the most
miserable of all men, was very far from repenting:
shall I tell you how he showed his remorse? he had a
younger brother, a child of seven years old, who was
the legitimate son of Perdiccas, and to him of right
the kingdom belonged; Archelaus, however, had no
mind to bring him up as he ought and restore the
kingdom to him; that was not his notion of
happiness; but not long afterwards he threw him into
a well and drowned him, and declared to his mother
Cleopatra that he had fallen in while running after
a goose, and had been killed. And now as he is the
greatest criminal of all the Macedonians, he may be
supposed to be the most miserable and not the
happiest of them, and I dare say that there are many
Athenians, and you would be at the head of them, who
would rather be any other Macedonian than Archelaus!
Soc. I praised you at first, Polus, for being
a rhetorician rather than a reasoner. And this, as I
suppose, is the sort of argument with which you
fancy that a child might refute me, and by which I
stand refuted when I say that the unjust man is not
happy. But, my good friend, where is the refutation?
I cannot admit a word which you have been saying.
Pol. That is because you will not; for you
surely must think as I do.
Soc. Not so, my simple friend, but because
you will refute me after the manner which
rhetoricians practise in courts of law. For there
the one party think that they refute the other when
they bring forward a number of witnesses of good
repute in proof of their allegations, and their
adversary has only a single one or none at all. But
this kind of proof is of no value where truth is the
aim; a man may often be sworn down by a multitude of
false witnesses who have a great air of
respectability. And in this argument nearly every
one, Athenian and stranger alike, would be on your
side, if you should bring witnesses in disproof of
my statement-you may, if you will, summon Nicias the
son of Niceratus, and let his brothers, who gave the
row of tripods which stand in the precincts of
Dionysus, come with him; or you may summon
Aristocrates, the son of Scellius, who is the giver
of that famous offering which is at Delphi; summon,
if you will, the whole house of Pericles, or any
other great Athenian family whom you choose-they
will all agree with you: I only am left alone and
cannot agree, for you do not convince me; although
you produce many false witnesses against me, in the
hope of depriving me of my inheritance, which is the
truth. But I consider that nothing worth speaking of
will have been effected by me unless I make you the
one witness of my words; nor by you, unless you make
me the one witness of yours; no matter about the
rest of the world. For there are two ways of
refutation, one which is yours and that of the world
in general; but mine is of another sort-let us
compare them, and see in what they differ. For,
indeed, we are at issue about matters which to know
is honourable and not to know disgraceful; to know
or not to know happiness and misery-that is the
chief of them. And what knowledge can be nobler? or
what ignorance more disgraceful than this? And
therefore I will begin by asking you whether you do
not think that a man who is unjust and doing
injustice can be happy, seeing that you think
Archelaus unjust, and yet happy? May I assume this
to be your opinion?
Pol. Certainly.
Soc. But I say that this is an
impossibility-here is one point about which we are
at issue:-very good. And do you mean to say also
that if he meets with retribution and punishment he
will still be happy?
Pol. Certainly not; in that case he will be
most miserable.
Soc. On the other hand, if the unjust be not
punished, then, according to you, he will be happy?
Pol. Yes.
Soc. But in my opinion, Polus, the unjust or
doer of unjust actions is miserable in any
case,-more miserable, however, if he be not punished
and does not meet with retribution, and less
miserable if he be punished and meets with
retribution at the hands of gods and men.
Pol. You are maintaining a strange doctrine,
Socrates.
Soc. I shall try to make you agree with me, O
my friend, for as a friend I regard you. Then these
are the points at issue between us-are they not? I
was saying that to do is worse than to suffer
injustice?
Pol. Exactly so.
Soc. And you said the opposite?
Pol. Yes.
Soc. I said also that the wicked are
miserable, and you refuted me?
Pol. By Zeus, I did.
Soc. In your own opinion, Polus.
Pol. Yes, and I rather suspect that I was in
the right.
Soc. You further said that the wrong-doer is
happy if he be unpunished?
Pol. Certainly.
Soc. And I affirm that he is most miserable,
and that those who are punished are less
miserable-are you going to refute this proposition
also?
Pol. A proposition which is harder of
refutation than the other, Socrates.
Soc. Say rather, Polus, impossible; for who
can refute the truth?
Pol. What do you mean? If a man is detected
in an unjust attempt to make himself a tyrant, and
when detected is racked, mutilated, has his eyes
burned out, and after having had all sorts of great
injuries inflicted on him, and having seen his wife
and children suffer the like, is at last impaled or
tarred and burned alive, will he be happier than if
he escape and become a tyrant, and continue all
through life doing what he likes and holding the
reins of government, the envy and admiration both of
citizens and strangers? Is that the paradox which,
as you say, cannot be refuted?
Soc. There again, noble Polus, you are
raising hobgoblins instead of refuting me; just now
you were calling witnesses against me. But please to
refresh my memory a little; did you say-"in an
unjust attempt to make himself a tyrant"?
Pol. Yes, I did.
Soc. Then I say that neither of them will be
happier than the other-neither he who unjustly
acquires a tyranny, nor he who suffers in the
attempt, for of two miserables one cannot be the
happier, but that he who escapes and becomes a
tyrant is the more miserable of the two. Do you
laugh, Polus? Well, this is a new kind of
refutation-when any one says anything, instead of
refuting him to laugh at him.
Pol. But do you not think, Socrates, that you
have been sufficiently refuted, when you say that
which no human being will allow? Ask the company.
Soc. O Polus, I am not a public man, and only
last year, when my tribe were serving as Prytanes,
and it became my duty as their president to take the
votes, there was a laugh at me, because I was unable
to take them. And as I failed then, you must not ask
me to count the suffrages of the company now; but
if, as I was saying, you have no better argument
than numbers, let me have a turn, and do you make
trial of the sort of proof which, as I think, is
required; for I shall produce one witness only of
the truth of my words, and he is the person with
whom I am arguing; his suffrage I know how to take;
but with the many I have nothing to do, and do not
even address myself to them. May I ask then whether
you will answer in turn and have your words put to
the proof? For I certainly think that I and you and
every man do really believe, that to do is a greater
evil than to suffer injustice: and not to be
punished than to be punished.
Pol. And I should say neither I, nor any man:
would you yourself, for example, suffer rather than
do injustice?
Soc. Yes, and you, too; I or any man would.
Pol. Quite the reverse; neither you, nor I,
nor any man.
Soc. But will you answer?
Pol. To be sure, I will-for I am curious to
hear what you can have to say.
Soc. Tell me, then, and you will know, and
let us suppose that I am beginning at the beginning:
which of the two, Polus, in your opinion, is the
worst?-to do injustice or to suffer?
Pol. I should say that suffering was worst.
Soc. And which is the greater
disgrace?-Answer.
Pol. To do.
Soc. And the greater disgrace is the greater
evil?
Pol. Certainly not.
Soc. I understand you to say, if I am not
mistaken, that the honourable is not the same as the
good, or the disgraceful as the evil?
Pol. Certainly not.
Soc. Let me ask a question of you: When you
speak of beautiful things, such as bodies, colours,
figures, sounds, institutions, do you not call them
beautiful in reference to some standard: bodies, for
example, are beautiful in proportion as they are
useful, or as the sight of them gives pleasure to
the spectators; can you give any other account of
personal beauty?
Pol. I cannot.
Soc. And you would say of figures or colours
generally that they were beautiful, either by reason
of the pleasure which they give, or of their use, or
both?
Pol. Yes, I should.
Soc. And you would call sounds and music
beautiful for the same reason?
Pol. I should.
Soc. Laws and institutions also have no
beauty in them except in so far as they are useful
or pleasant or both?
Pol. I think not.
Soc. And may not the same be said of the
beauty of knowledge?
Pol. To be sure, Socrates; and I very much
approve of your measuring beauty by the standard of
pleasure and utility.
Soc. And deformity or disgrace may be equally
measured by the opposite standard of pain and evil?
Pol. Certainly.
Soc. Then when of two beautiful things one
exceeds in beauty, the measure of the excess is to
be taken in one or both of these; that is to say, in
pleasure or utility or both?
Pol. Very true.
Soc. And of two deformed things, that which
exceeds in deformity or disgrace, exceeds either in
pain or evil-must it not be so?
Pol. Yes.
Soc. But then again, what was the observation
which you just now made, about doing and suffering
wrong? Did you not say, that suffering wrong was
more evil, and doing wrong more disgraceful?
Pol. I did.
Soc. Then, if doing wrong is more disgraceful
than suffering, the more disgraceful must be more
painful and must exceed in pain or in evil or both:
does not that also follow?
Pol. Of course.
Soc. First, then, let us consider whether the
doing of injustice exceeds the suffering in the
consequent pain: Do the injurers suffer more than
the injured?
Pol. No, Socrates; certainly not.
Soc. Then they do not exceed in pain?
Pol. No.
Soc. But if not in pain, then not in both?
Pol. Certainly not.
Soc. Then they can only exceed in the ot |