Persons of the Dialogue
LYSIMACHUS, son of Aristides
MELESIAS, son of Thucydides
THEIR SONS
NICIAS
LACHES
SOCRATES
Lys. You have
seen the exhibition of the man fighting in
armour, Nicias and Laches, but we did not tell
you at the time the reason why my friend
Melesias and I asked you to go with us and see
him. I think that we may as well confess what
this was, for we certainly ought not to have any
reserve with you. The reason was, that we were
intending to ask your advice. Some laugh at the
very notion of advising others, and when they
are asked will not say what they think. They
guess at the wishes of the person who asks them,
and answer according to his, and not according
to their own, opinion. But as we know that you
are good judges, and will say exactly what you
think, we have taken you into our counsels. The
matter about which I am making all this preface
is as follows: Melesias and I have two sons;
that is his son, and he is named Thucydides,
after his grandfather; and this is mine, who is
also called after his grandfather, Aristides.
Now, we are resolved to take the greatest care
of the youths, and not to let them run about as
they like, which is too often the way with the
young, when they are no longer children, but to
begin at once and do the utmost that we can for
them. And knowing you to have sons of your own,
we thought that you were most likely to have
attended to their training and improvement, and,
if perchance you have not attended to them, we
may remind you that you ought to have done so,
and would invite you to assist us in the
fulfillment of a common duty. I will tell you,
Nicias and Laches, even at the risk of being
tedious, how we came to think of this. Melesias
and I live together, and our sons live with us;
and now, as I was saying at first, we are going
to confess to you. Both of us often talk to the
lads about the many noble deeds which our own
fathers did in war and peace-in the management
of the allies, and in the administration of the
city; but neither of us has any deeds of his own
which he can show. The truth is that we are
ashamed of this contrast being seen by them, and
we blame our fathers for letting us be spoiled
in the days of our youth, while they were
occupied with the concerns of others; and we
urge all this upon the lads, pointing out to
them that they will not grow up to honour if
they are rebellious and take no pains about
themselves; but that if they take pains they
may, perhaps, become worthy of the names which
they bear. They, on their part, promise to
comply with our wishes; and our care is to
discover what studies or pursuits are likely to
be most improving to them. Some one commended to
us the art of fighting in armour, which he
thought an excellent accomplishment for a young
man to learn; and he praised the man whose
exhibition you have seen, and told us to go and
see him. And we determined that we would go, and
get you to accompany us; and we were intending
at the same time, if you did not object, to take
counsel with you about the education of our
sons. That is the matter which we wanted to talk
over with you; and we hope that you will give us
your opinion about this art of fighting in
armour, and about any other studies or pursuits
which may or may not be desirable for a young
man to learn. Please to say whether you agree to
our proposal.
Nic. As far as I am concerned, Lysimachus
and Melesias, I applaud your purpose, and will
gladly assist you; and I believe that you,
Laches, will be equally glad.
La. Certainly, Nicias; and I quite
approve of the remark which Lysimachus made
about his own father and the father of Melesias,
and which is applicable, not only to them, but
to us, and to every one who is occupied with
public affairs. As he says, such persons are too
apt to be negligent and careless of their own
children and their private concerns. There is
much truth in that remark of yours, Lysimachus.
But why, instead of consulting us, do you not
consult our friend Socrates about the education
of the youths? He is of the same deme with you,
and is always passing his time in places where
the youth have any noble study or pursuit, such
as you are enquiring after.
Lys. Why, Laches, has Socrates ever
attended to matters of this sort?
La. Certainly, Lysimachus.
Nic. That I have the means of knowing as
well as Laches; for quite lately he supplied me
with a teacher of music for my sons,-Damon, the
disciple of Agathocles, who is a most
accomplished man in every way, as well as a
musician, and a companion of inestimable value
for young men at their age.
Lys. Those who have reached my time of
life, Socrates and Nicias and Laches, fall out
of acquaintance with the young, because they are
generally detained at home by old age; but you,
O son of Sophroniscus, should let your fellow
demesman have the benefits of any advice which
you are able to give. Moreover I have a claim
upon you as an old friend of your father; for I
and he were always companions and friends, and
to the hour of his death there never was a
difference between us; and now it comes back to
me, at the mention of your name, that I have
heard these lads talking to one another at home,
and often speaking of Socrates in terms of the
highest praise; but I have never thought to ask
them whether the son of Sophroniscus was the
person whom they meant. Tell me, my boys,
whether this is the Socrates of whom you have
often spoken?
Son. Certainly, father, this is he.
Lys. I am delighted to hear, Socrates,
that you maintain the name of your father, who
was a most excellent man; and I further rejoice
at the prospect of our family ties being
renewed.
La. Indeed, Lysimachus, you ought not to
give him up; for I can assure you that I have
seen him maintaining, not only his father's, but
also his country's name. He was my companion in
the retreat from Delium, and I can tell you that
if others had only been like him, the honour of
our country would have been upheld, and the
great defeat would never have occurred.
Lys. That is very high praise which is
accorded to you, Socrates, by faithful witnesses
and for actions like those which they praise.
Let me tell you the pleasure which I feel in
hearing of your fame; and I hope that you will
regard me as one of your warmest friends. You
ought to have visited us long ago, and made
yourself at home with us; but now, from this day
forward, as we have at last found one another
out, do as I say-come and make acquaintance with
me, and with these young men, that I may
continue your friend, as I was your father's. I
shall expect you to do so, and shall venture at
some future time to remind you of your duty. But
what say you of the matter of which we were
beginning to speak-the art of fighting in
armour? Is that a practice in which the lads may
be advantageously instructed?
Soc. I will endeavour to advise you,
Lysimachus, as far as I can in this matter, and
also in every way will comply with your wishes;
but as I am younger and not so experienced, I
think that I ought certainly to hear first what
my elders have to say, and to learn of them, and
if I have anything to add, then I may venture to
give my opinion to them as well as to you.
Suppose, Nicias, that one or other of you begin.
Nic. I have no objection, Socrates; and
my opinion is that the acquirement of this art
is in many ways useful to young men. It is an
advantage to them that among the favourite
amusements of their leisure hours they should
have one which tends to improve and not to
injure their bodily health. No gymnastics could
be better or harder exercise; and this, and the
art of riding, are of all arts most befitting to
a freeman; for they only who are thus trained in
the use of arms are the athletes of our military
profession, trained in that on which the
conflict turns. Moreover in actual battle, when
you have to fight in a line with a number of
others, such an acquirement will be of some use,
and will be of the greatest whenever the ranks
are broken and you have to fight singly, either
in pursuit, when you are attacking some one who
is defending himself, or in flight, when you
have to defend yourself against an assailant.
Certainly he who possessed the art could not
meet with any harm at the hands of a single
person, or perhaps of several; and in any case
he would have a great advantage. Further, this
sort of skill inclines a man to the love of
other noble lessons; for every man who has
learned how to fight in armour will desire to
learn the proper arrangement of an army, which
is the sequel of the lesson: and when he has
learned this, and his ambition is once fired, he
will go on to learn the complete art of the
general. There is no difficulty in seeing that
the knowledge and practice of other military
arts will be honourable and valuable to a man;
and this lesson may be the beginning of them.
Let me add a further advantage, which is by no
means a slight one,-that this science will make
any man a great deal more valiant and
self-possessed in the field. And I will not
disdain to mention, what by some may he thought
to be a small matter;-he will make a better
appearance at the right time; that is to say, at
the time when his appearance will strike terror
into his enemies. My opinion then, Lysimachus,
is, as I say, that the youths should be
instructed in this art, and for the reasons
which I have given. But Laches may take a
different view; and I shall be very glad to hear
what he has to say.
La. I should not like to maintain,
Nicias, that any kind of knowledge is not to be
learned; for all knowledge appears to be a good:
and if, as Nicias and as the teachers of the art
affirm, this use of arms is really a species of
knowledge, then it ought to be learned; but if
not, and if those who profess to teach it are
deceivers only; or if it be knowledge, but not
of a valuable sort, then what is the use of
learning it? I say this, because I think that if
it had been really valuable, the Lacedaemonians,
whose whole life is passed in finding out and
practising the arts which give them an advantage
over other nations in war, would have discovered
this one. And even if they had not, still these
professors of the art would certainly not have
failed to discover that of all the Hellenes the
Lacedaemonians have the greatest interest in
such matters, and that a master of the art who
was honoured among them would be sure to make
his fortune among other nations, just as a
tragic poet would who is honoured among
ourselves; which is the reason why he who
fancies that he can write a tragedy does not go
about itinerating in the neighbouring states,
but rushes straight, and exhibits at Athens; and
this is natural. Whereas I perceive that these
fighters in armour regard Lacedaemon as a sacred
inviolable territory, which they do not touch
with the point of their foot; but they make a
circuit of the neighbouring states, and would
rather exhibit to any others than to the
Spartans; and particularly to those who would
themselves acknowledge that they are by no means
first-rate in the arts of war. Further,
Lysimachus, I have encountered a good many of
these gentlemen in actual service, and have
taken their measure, which I can give you at
once; for none of these masters of fence have
ever been distinguished in war,-there has been a
sort of fatality about them; while in all other
arts the men of note have been always those who
have practised the art, they appear to be a most
unfortunate exception. For example, this very
Stesilaus, whom you and I have just witnessed
exhibiting in all that crowd and making such
great professions of his powers, I have seen at
another time making, in sober truth, an
involuntary exhibition of himself, which was a
far better spectacle. He was a marine on board a
ship which struck a transport vessel, and was
armed with a weapon, half spear half scythe; the
singularity of this weapon was worthy of the
singularity of the man. To make a long story
short, I will only tell you what happened to
this notable invention of the scythe-spear. He
was fighting, and the scythe was caught in the
rigging of the other ship, and stuck fast; and
he tugged, but was unable to get his weapon
free. The two ships were passing one another. He
first ran along his own ship holding on to the
spear; but as the other ship passed by and drew
him after as he was holding on, he let the spear
slip through his hand until he retained only the
end of the handle. The people in the transport
clapped their hands, and laughed at his
ridiculous figure; and when some one threw a
stone, which fell on the deck at his feet, and
he quitted of the scythe-spear, the crew of his
own trireme also burst out laughing; they could
not refrain when they beheld the weapon waving
in the air, suspended from the transport. Now I
do not deny that there may be something in such
an art, as Nicias asserts, but I tell you my
experience; and, as I said at first, whether
this be an art of which the advantage is so
slight, or not an art at all, but only an
imposition, in either case such an acquirement
is not worth having. For my opinion is, that if
the professor of this art be a coward, he will
be likely to become rash, and his character will
be only more notorious; or if he be brave, and
fail ever so little, other men will be on the
watch, and he will be greatly traduced; for
there is a jealousy of such pretenders; and
unless a man be preeminent in valour, he cannot
help being ridiculous, if he says that he has
this sort of skill. Such is my judgment,
Lysimachus, of the desirableness of this art;
but, as I said at first, ask Socrates, and do
not let him go until he has given you his
opinion of the matter.
Lys. I am going to ask this favour of
you, Socrates; as is the more necessary because
the two councillors disagree, and some one is in
a manner still needed who will decide between
them. Had they agreed, no arbiter would have
been required. But as Laches has voted one way
and Nicias another, I should like to hear with
which of our two friends you agree.
Soc. What, Lysimachus, are you going to
accept the opinion of the majority?
Lys. Why, yes, Socrates; what else am I
to do?
Soc. And would you do so too, Melesias?
If you were deliberating about the gymnastic
training of your son, would you follow the
advice of the majority of us, or the opinion of
the one who had been trained and exercised under
a skilful master?
Mel. The latter, Socrates; as would
surely be reasonable.
Soc. His one vote would be worth more
than the vote of all us four?
Mel. Certainly.
Soc. And for this reason, as I
imagine,-because a good decision is based on
knowledge and not on numbers?
Mel. To be sure.
Soc. Must we not then first of all ask,
whether there is any one of us who has knowledge
of that about which we are deliberating? If
there is, let us take his advice, though he be
one only, and not mind the rest; if there is
not, let us seek further counsel. Is this a
slight matter about which you and Lysimachus are
deliberating? Are you not risking the greatest
of your possessions? For children are your
riches; and upon their turning out well or ill
depends the whole order of their father's house.
Mel. That is true.
Soc. Great care, then, is required in
this matter?
Mel. Certainly.
Soc. Suppose, as I was just now saying,
that we were considering, or wanting to
consider, who was the best trainer. Should we
not select him who knew and had practised the
art, and had the best teachers?
Mel. I think that we should.
Soc. But would there not arise a prior
question about the nature of the art of which we
want to find the masters?
Mel. I do not understand.
Soc. Let me try to make my meaning
plainer then. I do not think that we have as yet
decided what that is about which we are
consulting, when we ask which of us is or is not
skilled in the art, and has or has not had a
teacher of the art.
Nic. Why, Socrates, is not the question
whether young men ought or ought not to learn
the art of fighting in armour?
Soc. Yes, Nicias; but there is also a
prior question, which I may illustrate in this
way: When a person considers about applying a
medicine to the eyes, would you say that he is
consulting about the medicine or about the eyes?
Nic. About the eyes.
Soc. And when he considers whether he
shall set a bridle on a horse and at what time,
he is thinking of the horse and not of the
bridle?
Nic. True.
Soc. And in a word, when he considers
anything for the sake of another thing, he
thinks of the end and not of the means?
Nic. Certainly.
Soc. And when you call in an adviser, you
should see whether he too is skilful in the
accomplishment of the end which you have in
view?
Nic. Most true.
Soc. And at present we have in view some
knowledge, of which the end is the soul of
youth?
Nic. Yes.
Soc. And we are enquiring, Which of us is
skilful or successful in the treatment of the
soul, and which of us has had good teachers?
La. Well but, Socrates; did you never
observe that some persons, who have had no
teachers, are more skilful than those who have,
in some things?
Soc. Yes, Laches, I have observed that;
but you would not be very willing to trust them
if they only professed to be masters of their
art, unless they could show some proof of their
skill or excellence in one or more works.
La. That is true.
Soc. And therefore, Laches and Nicias, as
Lysimachus and Melesias, in their anxiety to
improve the minds of their sons, have asked our
advice about them, we too should tell them who
our teachers were, if we say that we have had
any, and prove them to be in the first place men
of merit and experienced trainers of the minds
of youth and also to have been really our
teachers. Or if any of us says that he has no
teacher, but that he has works of his own to
show; then he should point out to them what
Athenians or strangers, bond or free, he is
generally acknowledged to have improved. But if
he can show neither teachers nor works, then he
should tell them to look out for others; and not
run the risk of spoiling the children of
friends, and thereby incurring the most
formidable accusation which can be brought
against any one by those nearest to him. As for
myself, Lysimachus and Melesias, I am the first
to confess that I have never had a teacher of
the art of virtue; although I have always from
my earliest youth desired to have one. But I am
too poor to give money to the Sophists, who are
the only professors of moral improvement; and to
this day I have never been able to discover the
art myself, though I should not be surprised if
Nicias or Laches may have discovered or learned
it; for they are far wealthier than I am, and
may therefore have learnt of others. And they
are older too; so that they have had more time
to make the discovery. And I really believe that
they are able to educate a man; for unless they
had been confident in their own knowledge, they
would never have spoken thus decidedly of the
pursuits which are advantageous or hurtful to a
young man. I repose confidence in both of them;
but I am surprised to find that they differ from
one another. And therefore, Lysimachus, as
Laches suggested that you should detain me, and
not let me go until I answered, I in turn
earnestly beseech and advise you to detain
Laches and Nicias, and question them. I would
have you say to them: Socrates avers that he has
no knowledge of the matter-he is unable to
decide which of you speaks truly; neither
discoverer nor student is he of anything of the
kind. But you, Laches and Nicias, should each of
you tell us who is the most skilful educator
whom you have ever known; and whether you
invented the art yourselves, or learned of
another; and if you learned, who were your
respective teachers, and who were their brothers
in the art; and then, if you are too much
occupied in politics to teach us yourselves, let
us go to them, and present them with gifts, or
make interest with them, or both, in the hope
that they may be induced to take charge of our
children and of yours; and then they will not
grow up inferior, and disgrace their ancestors.
But if you are yourselves original discoverers
in that field, give us some proof of your skill.
Who are they who, having been inferior persons,
have become under your care good and noble? For
if this is your first attempt at education,
there is a danger that you may be trying the
experiment, not on the "vile corpus" of a Carian
slave, but on your own sons, or the sons of your
friend, and, as the proverb says, "break the
large vessel in learning to make pots." Tell us
then, what qualities you claim or do not claim.
Make them tell you that, Lysimachus, and do not
let them off.
Lys. I very much approve of the words of
Socrates, my friends; but you, Nicias and
Laches, must determine whether you will be
questioned, and give an explanation about
matters of this sort. Assuredly, I and Melesias
would be greatly pleased to hear you answer the
questions which Socrates asks, if you will: for
I began by saying that we took you into our
counsels because we thought that you would have
attended to the subject, especially as you have
children who, like our own, are nearly of an age
to be educated. Well, then, if you have no
objection, suppose that you take Socrates into
partnership; and do you and he ask and answer
one another's questions: for, as he has well
said, we are deliberating about the most
important of our concerns. I hope that you will
see fit to comply with our request.
Nic. I see very clearly, Lysimachus, that
you have only known Socrates' father, and have
no acquaintance with Socrates himself: at least,
you can only have known him when he was a child,
and may have met him among his fellow wardsmen,
in company with his father, at a sacrifice, or
at some other gathering. You clearly show that
you have never known him since he arrived at
manhood.
Lys. Why do you say that, Nicias?
Nic. Because you seem not to be aware
that any one who has an intellectual affinity to
Socrates and enters into conversation with him
is liable to be drawn into an argument; and
whatever subject he may start, he will be
continually carried round and round by him,
until at last he finds that he has to give an
account both of his present and past life; and
when he is once entangled, Socrates will not let
him go until he has completely and thoroughly
sifted him. Now I am used to his ways; and I
know that he will certainly do as I say, and
also that I myself shall be the sufferer; for I
am fond of his conversation, Lysimachus. And I
think that there is no harm in being reminded of
any wrong thing which we are, or have been,
doing: he who does not fly from reproof will be
sure to take more heed of his after-life; as
Solon says, he will wish and desire to be
learning so long as he lives, and will not think
that old age of itself brings wisdom. To me, to
be cross examined by Socrates is neither unusual
nor unpleasant; indeed, I knew all along that
where Socrates was, the argument would soon pass
from our sons to ourselves; and therefore, I say
that for my part, I am quite willing to
discourse with Socrates in his own manner; but
you had better ask our friend Laches what his
feeling may be.
La. I have but one feeling, Nicias, or
(shall I say?) two feelings, about discussions.
Some would think that I am a lover, and to
others I may seem to be a hater of discourse;
for when I hear a man discoursing of virtue, or
of any sort of wisdom, who is a true man and
worthy of his theme, I am delighted beyond
measure: and I compare the man and his words,
and note the harmony and correspondence of them.
And such an one I deem to be the true musician,
attuned to a fairer harmony than that of the
lyre, or any pleasant instrument of music; for
truly he has in his own life a harmony of words
and deeds arranged, not in the Ionian, or in the
Phrygian mode, nor yet in the Lydian, but in the
true Hellenic mode, which is the Dorian, and no
other. Such an one makes me merry with the sound
of his voice; and when I hear him I am thought
to be a lover of discourse; so eager am I in
drinking in his words. But a man whose actions
do not agree with his words is an annoyance to
me; and the better he speaks the more I hate
him, and then I seem to be a hater of discourse.
As to Socrates, I have no knowledge of his
words, but of old, as would seem, I have had
experience of his deeds; and his deeds show that
free and noble sentiments are natural to him.
And if his words accord, then I am of one mind
with him, and shall be delighted to be
interrogated by a man such as he is, and shall
not be annoyed at having to learn of him: for I
too agree with Solon, "that I would fain grow
old, learning many things." But I must be
allowed to add "of the good only." Socrates must
be willing to allow that he is a good teacher,
or I shall be a dull and uncongenial pupil: but
that the teacher is younger, or not as yet in
repute-anything of that sort is of no account
with me. And therefore, Socrates, I give you
notice that you may teach and confute me as much
as ever you like, and also learn of me anything
which I know. So high is the opinion which I
have entertained of you ever since the day on
which you were my companion in danger, and gave
a proof of your valour such as only the man of
merit can give. Therefore, say whatever you
like, and do not mind about the difference of
our ages.
Soc. I cannot say that either of you show
any reluctance to take counsel and advise with
me.
Lys. But this is our proper business; and
yours as well as ours, for I reckon you as one
of us. Please then to take my place, and find
out from Nicias and Laches what we want to know,
for the sake of the youths, and talk and consult
with them: for I am old, and my memory is bad;
and I do not remember the questions which I am
going to ask, or the answers to them; and if
there is any interruption I am quite lost. I
will therefore beg of you to carry on the
proposed discussion by yourselves; and I will
listen, and Melesias and I will act upon your
conclusions.
Soc. Let us, Nicias and Laches, comply
with the request of Lysimachus and Melesias.
There will be no harm in asking ourselves the
question which was first proposed to us: "Who
have been our own instructors in this sort of
training, and whom have we made better?" But the
other mode of carrying on the enquiry will bring
us equally to the same point, and will be more
like proceeding from first principles. For if we
knew that the addition of something would
improve some other thing, and were able to make
the addition, then, clearly, we must know how
that about which we are advising may be best and
most easily attained. Perhaps you do not
understand what I mean. Then let me make my
meaning plainer in this way. Suppose we knew
that the addition of sight makes better the eyes
which possess this gift, and also were able to
impart sight to the eyes, then, clearly, we
should know the nature of sight, and should be
able to advise how this gift of sight may be
best and most easily attained; but if we knew
neither what sight is, nor what hearing is, we
should not be very good medical advisers about
the eyes or the ears, or about the best mode of
giving sight and hearing to them.
La. That is true, Socrates.
Soc. And are not our two friends, Laches,
at this very moment inviting us to consider in
what way the gift of virtue may be imparted to
their sons for the improvement of their minds?
La. Very true.
Soc. Then must we not first know the
nature of virtue? For how can we advise any one
about the best mode of attaining something of
which we are wholly ignorant?
La. I do not think that we can, Socrates.
Soc. Then, Laches, we may presume that we
know the nature of virtue?
La. Yes.
Soc. And that which we know we must
surely be able to tell?
La. Certainly.
Soc. I would not have us begin, my
friend, with enquiring about the whole of
virtue; for that may be more than we can
accomplish; let us first consider whether we
have a sufficient knowledge of a part; the
enquiry will thus probably be made easier to us.
La. Let us do as you say, Socrates.
Soc. Then which of the parts of virtue
shall we select? Must we not select that to
which the art of fighting in armour is supposed
to conduce? And is not that generally thought to
be courage?
La. Yes, certainly.
Soc. Then, Laches, suppose that we first
set about determining the nature of courage, and
in the second place proceed to enquire how the
young men may attain this quality by the help of
studies and pursuits. Tell me, if you can, what
is courage.
La. Indeed, Socrates, I see no difficulty
in answering; he is a man of courage who does
not run away, but remains at his post and fights
against the enemy; there can be no mistake about
that.
Soc. Very good, Laches; and yet I fear
that I did not express myself clearly; and
therefore you have answered not the question
which I intended to ask, but another.
La. What do you mean, Socrates?
Soc. I will endeavour to explain; you
would call a man courageous who remains at his
post, and fights with the enemy?
La. Certainly I should.
Soc. And so should I; but what would you
say of another man, who fights flying, instead
of remaining?
La. How flying?
Soc. Why, as the Scythians are said to
fight, flying as well as pursuing; and as Homer
says in praise of the horses of Aeneas, that
they knew "how to pursue, and fly quickly hither
and thither"; and he passes an encomium on
Aeneas himself, as having a knowledge of fear or
flight, and calls him "an author of fear or
flight."
La. Yes, Socrates, and there Homer is
right: for he was speaking of chariots, as you
were speaking of the Scythian cavalry, who have
that way of fighting; but the heavy-armed Greek
fights, as I say, remaining in his rank.
Soc. And yet, Laches, you must except the
Lacedaemonians at Plataea, who, when they came
upon the light shields of the Persians, are said
not to have been willing to stand and fight, and
to have fled; but when the ranks of the Persians
were broken, they turned upon them like cavalry,
and won the battle of Plataea.
La. That is true.
Soc. That was my meaning when I said that
I was to blame in having put my question badly,
and that this was the reason of your answering
badly. For I meant to ask you not only about the
courage of heavy-armed soldiers, but about the
courage of cavalry and every other style of
soldier; and not only who are courageous in war,
but who are courageous in perils by sea, and who
in disease, or in poverty, or again in politics,
are courageous; and not only who are courageous
against pain or fear, but mighty to contend
against desires and pleasures, either fixed in
their rank or turning upon their enemy. There is
this sort of courage-is there not, Laches?
La. Certainly, Socrates.
Soc. And all these are courageous, but
some have courage in pleasures, and some in
pains: some in desires, and some in fears, and
some are cowards under the same conditions, as I
should imagine.
La. Very true.
Soc. Now I was asking about courage and
cowardice in general. And I will begin with
courage, and once more ask, What is that common
quality, which is the same in all these cases,
and which is called courage? Do you now
understand what I mean?
La. Not over well.
Soc. I mean this: As I might ask what is
that quality which is called quickness, and
which is found in running, in playing the lyre,
in speaking, in learning, and in many other
similar actions, or rather which we possess in
nearly every action that is worth mentioning of
arms, legs, mouth, voice, mind;-would you not
apply the term quickness to all of them?
La. Quite true.
Soc. And suppose I were to be asked by
some one: What is that common quality, Socrates,
which, in all these uses of the word, you call
quickness? I should say the quality which
accomplishes much in a little time-whether in
running, speaking, or in any other sort of
action.
La. You would be quite correct.
Soc. And now, Laches, do you try and tell
me in like manner, What is that common quality
which is called courage, and which includes all
the various uses of the term when applied both
to pleasure and pain, and in all the cases to
which I was just now referring?
La. I should say that courage is a sort
of endurance of the soul, if I am to speak of
the universal nature which pervades them all.
Soc. But that is what we must do if we
are to answer the question. And yet I cannot say
that every kind of endurance is, in my opinion,
to be deemed courage. Hear my reason: I am sure,
Laches, that you would consider courage to be a
very noble quality.
La. Most noble, certainly.
Soc. And you would say that a wise
endurance is also good and noble?
La. Very noble.
Soc. But what would you say of a foolish
endurance? Is not that, on the other hand, to be
regarded as evil and hurtful?
La. True.
Soc. And is anything noble which is evil
and hurtful?
La. I ought not to say that, Socrates.
Soc. Then you would not admit that sort
of endurance to be courage-for it is not noble,
but courage is noble?
La. You are right.
Soc. Then, according to you, only the
wise endurance is courage?
La. True.
Soc. But as to the epithet "wise,"-wise
in what? In all things small as well as great?
For example, if a man shows the quality of
endurance in spending his money wisely, knowing
that by spending he will acquire more in the
end, do you call him courageous?
La. Assuredly not.
Soc. Or, for example, if a man is a
physician, and his son, or some patient of his,
has inflammation of the lungs, and begs that he
may be allowed to eat or drink something, and
the other is firm and refuses; is that courage?
La. No; that is not courage at all, any
more than the last.
Soc. Again, take the case of one who
endures in war, and is willing to fight, and
wisely calculates and knows that others will
help him, and that there will be fewer and
inferior men against him than there are with
him; and suppose that he has also advantages of
position; would you say of such a one who
endures with all this wisdom and preparation,
that he, or some man in the opposing army who is
in the opposite circumstances to these and yet
endures and remains at his post, is the braver?
La. I should say that the latter,
Socrates, was the braver.
Soc. But, surely, this is a foolish
endurance in comparison with the other?
La. That is true.
Soc. Then you would say that he who in an
engagement of cavalry endures, having the
knowledge of horsemanship, is not so courageous
as he who endures, having no such knowledge?
La. So I should say.
Soc. And he who endures, having a
knowledge of the use of the sling, or the bow,
or of any other art, is not so courageous as he
who endures, not having such a knowledge?
La. True.
Soc. And he who descends into a well, and
dives, and holds out in this or any similar
action, having no knowledge of diving, or the
like, is, as you would say, more courageous than
those who have this knowledge?
La. Why, Socrates, what else can a man
say?
Soc. Nothing, if that be what he thinks.
La. But that is what I do think.
Soc. And yet men who thus run risks and
endure are foolish, Laches, in comparison of
those who do the same things, having the skill
to do them.
La. That is true.
Soc. But foolish boldness and endurance
appeared before to be base and hurtful to us.
La. Quite true.
Soc. Whereas courage was acknowledged to
be a noble quality.
La. True.
Soc. And now on the contrary we are
saying that the foolish endurance, which was
before held in dishonour, is courage.
La. Very true.
Soc. And are we right in saying so?
La. Indeed, Socrates, I am sure that we
are not right.
Soc. Then according to your statement,
you and I, Laches, are not attuned to the Dorian
mode, which is a harmony of words and deeds; for
our deeds are not in accordance with our words.
Any one would say that we had courage who saw us
in action, but not, I imagine, he who heard us
talking about courage just now.
La. That is most true.
Soc. And is this condition of ours
satisfactory?
La. Quite the reverse.
Soc. Suppose, however, that we admit the
principle of which we are speaking to a certain
extent.
La. To what extent and what principle do
you mean?
Soc. The principle of endurance. We too
must endure and persevere in the enquiry, and
then courage will not laugh at our
faintheartedness in searching for courage; which
after all may, very likely, be endurance.
La. I am ready to go on, Socrates; and
yet I am unused to investigations of this sort.
But the spirit of controversy has been aroused
in me by what has been said; and I am really
grieved at being thus unable to-express my
meaning. For I fancy that I do know the nature
of courage; but, somehow or other, she has
slipped away from me, and I cannot get hold of
her and tell her nature.
Soc. But, my dear friend, should not the
good sportsman follow the track, and not be
lazy?
La. Certainly, he should.
Soc. And shall we invite Nicias to join
us? he may be better at the sport than we are.
What do you say?
La. I should like that.
Soc. Come then, Nicias, and do what you
can to help your friends, who are tossing on the
waves of argument, and at the last gasp: you see
our extremity, and may save us and also settle
your own opinion, if you will tell us what you
think about courage.
Nic. I have been thinking, Socrates, that
you and Laches are not defining courage in the
right way; for you have forgotten an excellent
saying which I have heard from your own lips.
Soc. What is it, Nicias?
Nic. I have often heard you say that
"Every man is good in that in which he is wise,
and bad in that in which he is unwise."
Soc. That is certainly true, Nicias.
Nic. And therefore if the brave man is
good, he is also wise.
Soc. Do you hear him, Laches?
La. Yes, I hear him, but I do not very
well understand him.
Soc. I think that I understand him; and
he appears to me to mean that courage is a sort
of wisdom.
La. What can he possibly mean, Socrates?
Soc. That is a question which you must
ask of himself.
La. Yes.
Soc. Tell him then, Nicias, what you mean
by this wisdom; for you surely do not mean the
wisdom which plays the flute?
Nic. Certainly not.
Soc. Nor the wisdom which plays the lyre?
Nic. No.
Soc. But what is this knowledge then, and
of what?
La. I think that you put the question to
him very well, Socrates; and I would like him to
say what is the nature of this knowledge or
wisdom.
Nic. I mean to say, Laches, that courage
is the knowledge of that which inspires fear or
confidence in war, or in anything.
La. How strangely he is talking,
Socrates.
Soc. Why do you say so, Laches?
La. Why, surely courage is one thing, and
wisdom another.
Soc. That is just what Nicias denies.
La. Yes, that is what he denies; but he
is so.
Soc. Suppose that we instruct instead of
abusing him?
Nic. Laches does not want to instruct me,
Socrates; but having been proved to be talking
nonsense himself, he wants to prove that I have
been doing the same.
La. Very true, Nicias; and you are
talking nonsense, as I shall endeavour to show.
Let me ask you a question: Do not physicians
know the dangers of disease? or do the
courageous know them? or are the physicians the
same as the courageous?
Nic. Not at all.
La. No more than the husbandmen who know
the dangers of husbandry, or than other
craftsmen, who have a knowledge of that which
inspires them with fear or confidence in their
own arts, and yet they are not courageous a whit
the more for that.
Soc. What is Laches saying, Nicias? He
appears to be saying something of importance.
Nic. Yes, he is saying something, but it
is not true.
Soc. How so?
Nic. Why, because he does not see that
the physician's knowledge only extends to the
nature of health and disease: he can tell the
sick man no more than this. Do you imagine,
Laches, that the physician knows whether health
or disease is the more terrible to a man? Had
not many a man better never get up from a sick
bed? I should like to know whether you think
that life is always better than death. May not
death often be the better of the two?
La. Yes certainly so in my opinion.
Nic. And do you think that the same
things are terrible to those who had better die,
and to those who had better live?
La. Certainly not.
Nic. And do you suppose that the
physician or any other artist knows this, or any
one indeed, except he who is skilled in the
grounds of fear and hope? And him I call the
courageous.
Soc. Do you understand his meaning,
Laches?
La. Yes; I suppose that, in his way of
speaking, the soothsayers are courageous. For
who but one of them can know to whom to die or
to live is better? And yet Nicias, would you
allow that you are yourself a soothsayer, or are
you neither a soothsayer nor courageous?
Nic. What! do you mean to say that the
soothsayer ought to know the grounds of hope or
fear?
La. Indeed I do: who but he?
Nic. Much rather I should say he of whom
I speak; for the soothsayer ought to know only
the signs of things that are about to come to
pass, whether death or disease, or loss of
property, or victory, or defeat in war, or in
any sort of contest; but to whom the suffering
or not suffering of these things will be for the
best, can no more be decided by the soothsayer
than by one who is no soothsayer.
La. I cannot understand what Nicias would
be at, Socrates; for he represents the
courageous man as neither a soothsayer, nor a
physician, nor in any other character, unless he
means to say that he is a god. My opinion is
that he does not like honestly to confess that
he is talking nonsense, but that he shuffles up
and down in order to conceal the difficulty into
which he has got himself. You and I, Socrates,
might have practised a similar shuffle just now,
if we had only wanted to avoid the appearance of
inconsistency. And if we had been arguing in a
court of law there might have been reason in so
doing; but why should a man deck himself out
with vain words at a meeting of friends such as
this?
Soc. I quite agree with you, Laches, that
he should not. But perhaps Nicias is serious,
and not merely talking for the sake of talking.
Let us ask him just to explain what he means,
and if he has reason on his side we will agree
with him; if not, we will instruct him.
La. Do you, Socrates, if you like, ask
him: I think that I have asked enough.
Soc. I do not see why I should not; and
my question will do for both of us.
La. Very good.
Soc. Then tell me, Nicias, or rather tell
us, for Laches and I are partners in the
argument: Do you mean to affirm that courage is
the knowledge of the grounds of hope and fear?
Nic. I do.
Soc. And not every man has this
knowledge; the physician and the soothsayer have
it not; and they will not be courageous unless
they acquire it-that is what you were saying?
Nic. I was.
Soc. Then this is certainly not a thing
which every pig would know, as the proverb says,
and therefore he could not be courageous.
Nic. I think not.
Soc. Clearly not, Nicias; not even such a
big pig as the Crommyonian sow would be called
by you courageous. And this I say not as a joke,
but because I think that he who assents to your
doctrine, that courage is the knowledge of the
grounds of fear and hope, cannot allow that any
wild beast is courageous, unless he admits that
a lion, or a leopard, or perhaps a boar, or any
other animal, has such a degree of wisdom that
he knows things which but a few human beings
ever know by reason of their difficulty. He who
takes your view of courage must affirm that a
lion, and a stag, and a bull, and a monkey, have
equally little pretensions to courage.
La. Capital, Socrates; by the gods, that
is truly good. And I hope, Nicias, that you will
tell us whether these animals, which we all
admit to be courageous, are really wiser than
mankind; or whether you will have the boldness,
in the face of universal opinion, to deny their
courage.
Nic. Why, Laches, I do not call animals
or any other things which have no fear of
dangers, because they are ignorant of them,
courageous, but only fearless and senseless. Do
you imagine that I should call little children
courageous, which fear no dangers because they
know none? There is a difference, to my way of
thinking, between fearlessness and courage. I am
of opinion that thoughtful courage is a quality
possessed by very few, but that rashness and
boldness, and fearlessness, which has no
forethought, are very common qualities possessed
by many men, many women, many children, many
animals. And you, and men in general, call by
the term "courageous" actions which I call
rash;-my courageous actions are wise actions.
La. Behold, Socrates, how admirably, as
he thinks, he dresses himself out in words,
while seeking to deprive of the honour of
courage those whom all the world acknowledges to
be courageous.
Nic. Not so, Laches, but do not be
alarmed; for I am quite willing to say of you
and also of Lamachus, and of many other
Athenians, that you are courageous and therefore
wise.
La. I could answer that; but I would not
have you cast in my teeth that I am a haughty
Aexonian.
Soc. Do not answer him, Laches; I rather
fancy that you are not aware of the source from
which his wisdom is derived. He has got all this
from my friend Damon, and Damon is always with
Prodicus, who, of all the Sophists, is
considered to be the best puller to pieces of
words of this sort.
La. Yes, Socrates; and the examination of
such niceties is a much more suitable employment
for a Sophist than for a great statesman whom
the city chooses to preside over her.
Soc. Yes, my sweet friend, but a great
statesman is likely to have a great
intelligence. And I think that the view which is
implied in Nicias' definition of courage is
worthy of examination.
La. Then examine for yourself, Socrates.
Soc. That is what I am going to do, my
dear friend. Do not, however, suppose I shall
let you out of the partnership; for I shall
expect you to apply your mind, and join with me
in the consideration of the question.
La. I will if you think that I ought.
Soc. Yes, I do; but I must beg of you,
Nicias, to begin again. You remember that we
originally considered courage to be a part of
virtue.
Nic. Very true.
Soc. And you yourself said that it was a
part; and there were many other parts, all of
which taken together are called virtue.
Nic. Certainly.
Soc. Do you agree with me about the
parts? For I say that justice, temperance, and
the like, are all of them parts of virtue as
well as courage. Would you not say the same?
Nic. Certainly.
Soc. Well then, so far we are agreed. And
now let us proceed a step, and try to arrive at
a similar agreement about the fearful and the
hopeful: I do not want you to be thinking one
thing and myself another. Let me then tell you
my own opinion, and if I am wrong you shall set
me in my opinion the terrible and the are the
things which do or do not create fear, and fear
is not of the present, nor of the past, but is
of future and expected evil. Do you not agree to
that, Laches?
La. Yes, Socrates, entirely.
Soc. That is my view, Nicias; the
terrible things, as I should say, are the evils
which are future; and the hopeful are the good
or not evil things which are future. Do you or
do you not agree with me?
Nic. I agree.
Soc. And the knowledge of these things
you call courage?
Nic. Precisely.
Soc. And now let me see whether you agree
with Laches and myself as to a third point.
Nic. What is that?
Soc. I will tell you. He and I have a
notion that there is not one knowledge or
science of the past, another of the present, a
third of what is likely to be best and what will
be best in the future; but that of all three
there is one science only: for example, there is
one science of medicine which is concerned with
the inspection of health equally in all times,
present, past, and future; and one science of
husbandry in like manner, which is concerned
with the productions of the earth in all times.
As to the art of the general, you yourselves
will be my witnesses that he has an excellent
foreknowledge of the future, and that he claims
to be the master and not the servant of the
soothsayer, because he knows better what is
happening or is likely to happen in war: and
accordingly the law places the soothsayer under
the general, and not the general under the
soothsayer. Am I not correct in saying so,
Laches?
La. Quite correct.
Soc. And do you, Nicias, also acknowledge
that the same science has understanding of the
same things, whether future, present, or past?
Nic. Yes, indeed Socrates; that is my
opinion.
Soc. And courage, my friend, is, as you
say, a knowledge of the fearful and of the
hopeful?
Nic. Yes.
Soc. And the fearful, and the hopeful,
are admitted to be future goods and future
evils?
Nic. True.
Soc. And the same science has to do with
the same things in the future or at any time?
Nic. That is true.
Soc. Then courage is not the science
which is concerned with the fearful and hopeful,
for they are future only; courage, like the
other sciences, is concerned not only with good
and evil of the future, but of the present and
past, and of any time?
Nic. That, as I suppose, is true.
Soc. Then the answer which you have
given, Nicias, includes only a third part of
courage; but our question extended to the whole
nature of courage: and according to your view,
that is, according to your present view, courage
is not only the knowledge of the hopeful and the
fearful, but seems to include nearly every good
and evil without reference to time. What do you
say to that alteration in your statement?
Nic. I agree, Socrates.
Soc. But then, my dear friend, if a man
knew all good and evil, and how. they are, and
have been, and will be produced, would he not be
perfect, and wanting in no virtue, whether
justice, or temperance, or holiness? He would
possess them all, and he would know which were
dangers' and which were not, and guard against
them whether they were supernatural or natural;
and he would provide the good, as he would know
how to deal both with gods or men.
Nic. I think, Socrates, that there is a
great deal of truth in what you say.
Soc. But then, Nicias, courage, according
to this new definition of yours, instead of
being a part of virtue only, will be all virtue?
Nic. It would seem so.
Soc. But we were saying that courage is
one of the parts of virtue?
Nic. Yes, that was what we were saying.
Soc. And that is in contradiction with
our present view?
Nic. That appears to be the case.
Soc. Then, Nicias, we have not discovered
what courage is.
Nic. We have not.
La. And yet, friend Nicias,l imagined
that you would have made the discovery, when you
were so contemptuous of the answers which I made
to Socrates. I had very great hopes that you
would have been enlightened by the wisdom of
Damon.
Nic. I perceive, Laches, that you think
nothing of having displayed your ignorance of
the nature of courage, but you look only to see
whether I have not made a similar display; and
if we are both equally ignorant of the things
which a man who is good for anything should
know, that, I suppose, will be of no
consequence. You certainly appear to me very
like the rest of the world, looking at your
neighbour and not at yourself. I am of opinion
that enough has been said on the subject which
we have been discussing; and if anything has
been imperfectly said, that may be hereafter
corrected by the help of Damon, whom you think
to laugh down, although you have never seen him,
and with the help of others. And when I am
satisfied myself, I will freely impart my
satisfaction to you, for I think that you are
very much in want of knowledge.
La. You are a philosopher, Nicias; of
that I am aware: nevertheless I would recommend
Lysimachus and Melesias not to take you and me
as advisers about the education of their
children; but, as I said at first, they should
ask Socrates and not let him off; if my own sons
were old enough, I would have asked him myself.
Nic. To that I quite agree, if Socrates
is willing to take them under his charge. I
should not wish for any one else to be the tutor
of Niceratus. But I observe that when I mention
the matter to him he recommends to me some other
tutor and refuses himself. Perhaps he may be
more ready to listen to you, Lysimachus.
Lys. He ought, Nicias: for certainly I
would do things for him which I would not do for
many others. What do you say, Socrates-will you
comply? And are you ready to give assistance in
the improvement of the youths?
Soc. Indeed, Lysimachus, I should be very
wrong in refusing to aid in the improvement of
anybody. And if I had shown in this conversation
that I had a knowledge which Nicias and Laches
have not, then I admit that you would be right
in inviting me to perform this duty; but as we
are all in the same perplexity, why should one
of us be preferred to another? I certainly think
that no one should; and under these
circumstances, let me offer you a piece of
advice (and this need not go further than
ourselves). I maintain, my friends, that every
one of us should seek out the best teacher whom
he can find, first for ourselves, who are
greatly in need of one, and then for the youth,
regardless of expense or anything. But I cannot
advise that we remain as we are. And if any one
laughs at us for going to school at our age, I
would quote to them the authority of Homer, who
says, that
Modesty is not good for a needy man. Let us,
then, regardless of what may be said of us, make
the education of the youths our own education.
Lys. I like your proposal, Socrates; and
as I am the oldest, I am also the most eager to
go to school with the boys. Let me beg a favour
of you: Come to my house to-morrow at dawn, and
we will advise about these matters. For the
present, let us make an end of the conversation.
Soc. I will come to you to-morrow,
Lysimachus, as you propose, God willing.