EUTHYDEMUS

by Plato

Translated by Benjamin Jowett

INTRODUCTION. 

The Euthydemus, though apt to be regarded by us only as an elaboratejest, has also a very serious purpose. It may fairly claim to bethe oldest treatise on logic; for that science originates in themisunderstandings which necessarily accompany the first efforts ofspeculation. Several of the fallacies which are satirized in it reappearin the Sophistici Elenchi of Aristotle and are retained at the end ofour manuals of logic. But if the order of history were followed, theyshould be placed not at the end but at the beginning of them; for theybelong to the age in which the human mind was first making the attemptto distinguish thought from sense, and to separate the universal fromthe particular or individual. How to put together words or ideas, howto escape ambiguities in the meaning of terms or in the structure ofpropositions, how to resist the fixed impression of an 'eternal being'or 'perpetual flux, ' how to distinguish between words and things--thesewere problems not easy of solution in the infancy of philosophy. Theypresented the same kind of difficulty to the half-educated man whichspelling or arithmetic do to the mind of a child. It was long beforethe new world of ideas which had been sought after with such passionateyearning was set in order and made ready for use. To us the fallacieswhich arise in the pre-Socratic philosophy are trivial and obsoletebecause we are no longer liable to fall into the errors which areexpressed by them. The intellectual world has become better assured tous, and we are less likely to be imposed upon by illusions of words. 

The logic of Aristotle is for the most part latent in the dialoguesof Plato. The nature of definition is explained not by rules but byexamples in the Charmides, Lysis, Laches, Protagoras, Meno, Euthyphro, Theaetetus, Gorgias, Republic; the nature of division is likewiseillustrated by examples in the Sophist and Statesman; a scheme ofcategories is found in the Philebus; the true doctrine of contradictionis taught, and the fallacy of arguing in a circle is exposed in theRepublic; the nature of synthesis and analysis is graphically describedin the Phaedrus; the nature of words is analysed in the Cratylus; theform of the syllogism is indicated in the genealogical trees of theSophist and Statesman; a true doctrine of predication and an analysis ofthe sentence are given in the Sophist; the different meanings of oneand being are worked out in the Parmenides. Here we have most of theimportant elements of logic, not yet systematized or reduced to an artor science, but scattered up and down as they would naturally occur inordinary discourse. They are of little or no use or significance tous; but because we have grown out of the need of them we should nottherefore despise them. They are still interesting and instructive forthe light which they shed on the history of the human mind. 

There are indeed many old fallacies which linger among us, and newones are constantly springing up. But they are not of the kind to whichancient logic can be usefully applied. The weapons of common sense, notthe analytics of Aristotle, are needed for their overthrow. Nor is theuse of the Aristotelian logic any longer natural to us. We no longer putarguments into the form of syllogisms like the schoolmen; the simple useof language has been, happily, restored to us. Neither do we discuss thenature of the proposition, nor extract hidden truths from the copula, nor dispute any longer about nominalism and realism. We do not confusethe form with the matter of knowledge, or invent laws of thought, orimagine that any single science furnishes a principle of reasoning toall the rest. Neither do we require categories or heads of argument tobe invented for our use. Those who have no knowledge of logic, like someof our great physical philosophers, seem to be quite as good reasonersas those who have. Most of the ancient puzzles have been settled on thebasis of usage and common sense; there is no need to reopen them. Noscience should raise problems or invent forms of thought which addnothing to knowledge and are of no use in assisting the acquisition ofit. This seems to be the natural limit of logic and metaphysics; if theygive us a more comprehensive or a more definite view of the differentspheres of knowledge they are to be studied; if not, not. The betterpart of ancient logic appears hardly in our own day to have a separateexistence; it is absorbed in two other sciences: (1) rhetoric, if indeedthis ancient art be not also fading away into literary criticism; (2)the science of language, under which all questions relating to words andpropositions and the combinations of them may properly be included. 

To continue dead or imaginary sciences, which make no signs of progressand have no definite sphere, tends to interfere with the prosecutionof living ones. The study of them is apt to blind the judgment andto render men incapable of seeing the value of evidence, and even ofappreciating the nature of truth. Nor should we allow the living scienceto become confused with the dead by an ambiguity of language. The termlogic has two different meanings, an ancient and a modern one, andwe vainly try to bridge the gulf between them. Many perplexities areavoided by keeping them apart. There might certainly be a new science oflogic; it would not however be built up out of the fragments of theold, but would be distinct from them--relative to the state of knowledgewhich exists at the present time, and based chiefly on the methods ofModern Inductive philosophy. Such a science might have two legitimatefields: first, the refutation and explanation of false philosophiesstill hovering in the air as they appear from the point of view of laterexperience or are comprehended in the history of the human mind, as ina larger horizon: secondly, it might furnish new forms of thought moreadequate to the expression of all the diversities and oppositionsof knowledge which have grown up in these latter days; it might alsosuggest new methods of enquiry derived from the comparison of thesciences. Few will deny that the introduction of the words 'subject' and'object' and the Hegelian reconciliation of opposites have been 'mostgracious aids' to psychology, or that the methods of Bacon and Mill haveshed a light far and wide on the realms of knowledge. These twogreat studies, the one destructive and corrective of error, the otherconservative and constructive of truth, might be a first and second partof logic. Ancient logic would be the propaedeutic or gate of approach tological science, --nothing more. But to pursue such speculations further, though not irrelevant, might lead us too far away from the argument ofthe dialogue. 

The Euthydemus is, of all the Dialogues of Plato, that in which heapproaches most nearly to the comic poet. The mirth is broader, the irony more sustained, the contrast between Socrates and the twoSophists, although veiled, penetrates deeper than in any other of hiswritings. Even Thrasymachus, in the Republic, is at last pacified, andbecomes a friendly and interested auditor of the great discourse. Butin the Euthydemus the mask is never dropped; the accustomed irony ofSocrates continues to the end. . . 

Socrates narrates to Crito a remarkable scene in which he has himselftaken part, and in which the two brothers, Dionysodorus and Euthydemus, are the chief performers. They are natives of Chios, who had settled atThurii, but were driven out, and in former days had been known at Athensas professors of rhetoric and of the art of fighting in armour. Tothis they have now added a new accomplishment--the art of Eristic, orfighting with words, which they are likewise willing to teach 'for aconsideration. ' But they can also teach virtue in a very short time andin the very best manner. Socrates, who is always on the look-out forteachers of virtue, is interested in the youth Cleinias, the grandson ofthe great Alcibiades, and is desirous that he should have the benefit oftheir instructions. He is ready to fall down and worship them; althoughthe greatness of their professions does arouse in his mind a temporaryincredulity. 

A circle gathers round them, in the midst of which are Socrates, the twobrothers, the youth Cleinias, who is watched by the eager eyes ofhis lover Ctesippus, and others. The performance begins; and such aperformance as might well seem to require an invocation of Memory andthe Muses. It is agreed that the brothers shall question Cleinias. 'Cleinias, ' says Euthydemus, 'who learn, the wise or the unwise?' 'Thewise, ' is the reply; given with blushing and hesitation. 'And yet whenyou learned you did not know and were not wise. ' Then Dionysodorus takesup the ball: 'Who are they who learn dictation of the grammar-master;the wise or the foolish boys?' 'The wise. ' 'Then, after all, the wiselearn. ' 'And do they learn, ' said Euthydemus, 'what they know or whatthey do not know?' 'The latter. ' 'And dictation is a dictation ofletters?' 'Yes. ' 'And you know letters?' 'Yes. ' 'Then you learn whatyou know. ' 'But, ' retorts Dionysodorus, 'is not learning acquiringknowledge?' 'Yes. ' 'And you acquire that which you have not gotalready?' 'Yes. ' 'Then you learn that which you do not know. '

Socrates is afraid that the youth Cleinias may be discouraged at theserepeated overthrows. He therefore explains to him the nature of theprocess to which he is being subjected. The two strangers arenot serious; there are jests at the mysteries which precede theenthronement, and he is being initiated into the mysteries of thesophistical ritual. This is all a sort of horse-play, which is nowended. The exhortation to virtue will follow, and Socrates himself (ifthe wise men will not laugh at him) is desirous of showing the way inwhich such an exhortation should be carried on, according to hisown poor notion. He proceeds to question Cleinias. The result of theinvestigation may be summed up as follows:--

All men desire good; and good means the possession of goods, such aswealth, health, beauty, birth, power, honour; not forgetting the virtuesand wisdom. And yet in this enumeration the greatest good of all isomitted. What is that? Good fortune. But what need is there of goodfortune when we have wisdom already:--in every art and business are notthe wise also the fortunate? This is admitted. And again, the possessionof goods is not enough; there must also be a right use of them whichcan only be given by knowledge: in themselves they are neither good norevil--knowledge and wisdom are the only good, and ignorance and follythe only evil. The conclusion is that we must get 'wisdom. ' But canwisdom be taught? 'Yes, ' says Cleinias. The ingenuousness of theyouth delights Socrates, who is at once relieved from the necessity ofdiscussing one of his great puzzles. 'Since wisdom is the only good, he must become a philosopher, or lover of wisdom. ' 'That I will, ' saysCleinias. 

After Socrates has given this specimen of his own mode of instruction, the two brothers recommence their exhortation to virtue, which is ofquite another sort. 

'You want Cleinias to be wise?' 'Yes. ' 'And he is not wise yet?' 'No. ''Then you want him to be what he is not, and not to be what he is?--notto be--that is, to perish. Pretty lovers and friends you must all be!'

Here Ctesippus, the lover of Cleinias, interposes in great excitement, thinking that he will teach the two Sophists a lesson of good manners. But he is quickly entangled in the meshes of their sophistry; and asa storm seems to be gathering Socrates pacifies him with a joke, andCtesippus then says that he is not reviling the two Sophists, he is onlycontradicting them. 'But, ' says Dionysodorus, 'there is no such thing ascontradiction. When you and I describe the same thing, or you describeone thing and I describe another, how can there be a contradiction?'Ctesippus is unable to reply. 

Socrates has already heard of the denial of contradiction, and wouldlike to be informed by the great master of the art, 'What is the meaningof this paradox? Is there no such thing as error, ignorance, falsehood?Then what are they professing to teach?' The two Sophists complainthat Socrates is ready to answer what they said a year ago, butis 'non-plussed' at what they are saying now. 'What does the word"non-plussed" mean?' Socrates is informed, in reply, that words arelifeless things, and lifeless things have no sense or meaning. Ctesippusagain breaks out, and again has to be pacified by Socrates, who renewsthe conversation with Cleinias. The two Sophists are like Proteus in thevariety of their transformations, and he, like Menelaus in the Odyssey, hopes to restore them to their natural form. 

He had arrived at the conclusion that Cleinias must become aphilosopher. And philosophy is the possession of knowledge; andknowledge must be of a kind which is profitable and may be used. Whatknowledge is there which has such a nature? Not the knowledge which isrequired in any particular art; nor again the art of the composer ofspeeches, who knows how to write them, but cannot speak them, althoughhe too must be admitted to be a kind of enchanter of wild animals. Neither is the knowledge which we are seeking the knowledge of thegeneral. For the general makes over his prey to the statesman, as thehuntsman does to the cook, or the taker of quails to the keeper ofquails; he has not the use of that which he acquires. The two enquirers, Cleinias and Socrates, are described as wandering about in a wilderness, vainly searching after the art of life and happiness. At last they fixupon the kingly art, as having the desired sort of knowledge. But thekingly art only gives men those goods which are neither good nor evil:and if we say further that it makes us wise, in what does it make uswise? Not in special arts, such as cobbling or carpentering, but onlyin itself: or say again that it makes us good, there is no answer tothe question, 'good in what?' At length in despair Cleinias and Socratesturn to the 'Dioscuri' and request their aid. 

Euthydemus argues that Socrates knows something; and as he cannotknow and not know, he cannot know some things and not know others, andtherefore he knows all things: he and Dionysodorus and all other menknow all things. 'Do they know shoemaking, etc?' 'Yes. ' The scepticalCtesippus would like to have some evidence of this extraordinarystatement: he will believe if Euthydemus will tell him how many teethDionysodorus has, and if Dionysodorus will give him a like piece ofinformation about Euthydemus. Even Socrates is incredulous, and indulgesin a little raillery at the expense of the brothers. But he restrainshimself, remembering that if the men who are to be his teachers thinkhim stupid they will take no pains with him. Another fallacy isproduced which turns on the absoluteness of the verb 'to know. ' And hereDionysodorus is caught 'napping, ' and is induced by Socrates to confessthat 'he does not know the good to be unjust. ' Socrates appeals to hisbrother Euthydemus; at the same time he acknowledges that he cannot, like Heracles, fight against a Hydra, and even Heracles, on the approachof a second monster, called upon his nephew Iolaus to help. Dionysodorusrejoins that Iolaus was no more the nephew of Heracles than of Socrates. For a nephew is a nephew, and a brother is a brother, and a father isa father, not of one man only, but of all; nor of men only, but of dogsand sea-monsters. Ctesippus makes merry with the consequences whichfollow: 'Much good has your father got out of the wisdom of hispuppies. '

'But, ' says Euthydemus, unabashed, 'nobody wants much good. ' Medicine isa good, arms are a good, money is a good, and yet there may be too muchof them in wrong places. 'No, ' says Ctesippus, 'there cannot be too muchgold. ' And would you be happy if you had three talents of gold in yourbelly, a talent in your pate, and a stater in either eye?' Ctesippus, imitating the new wisdom, replies, 'And do not the Scythians reckonthose to be the happiest of men who have their skulls gilded and see theinside of them?' 'Do you see, ' retorts Euthydemus, 'what has the qualityof vision or what has not the quality of vision?' 'What has the qualityof vision. ' 'And you see our garments?' 'Yes. ' 'Then our garmentshave the quality of vision. ' A similar play of words follows, which issuccessfully retorted by Ctesippus, to the great delight of Cleinias, who is rebuked by Socrates for laughing at such solemn and beautifulthings. 

'But are there any beautiful things? And if there are such, are they thesame or not the same as absolute beauty?' Socrates replies that they arenot the same, but each of them has some beauty present with it. 'Andare you an ox because you have an ox present with you?' After a few moreamphiboliae, in which Socrates, like Ctesippus, in self-defence borrowsthe weapons of the brothers, they both confess that the two heroes areinvincible; and the scene concludes with a grand chorus of shouting andlaughing, and a panegyrical oration from Socrates:--

First, he praises the indifference of Dionysodorus and Euthydemusto public opinion; for most persons would rather be refuted by sucharguments than use them in the refutation of others. Secondly, heremarks upon their impartiality; for they stop their own mouths, aswell as those of other people. Thirdly, he notes their liberality, whichmakes them give away their secret to all the world: they should be morereserved, and let no one be present at this exhibition who does not paythem a handsome fee; or better still they might practise on one anotheronly. He concludes with a respectful request that they will receive himand Cleinias among their disciples. 

Crito tells Socrates that he has heard one of the audience criticiseseverely this wisdom, --not sparing Socrates himself for countenancingsuch an exhibition. Socrates asks what manner of man was this censoriouscritic. 'Not an orator, but a great composer of speeches. ' Socratesunderstands that he is an amphibious animal, half philosopher, halfpolitician; one of a class who have the highest opinion of themselvesand a spite against philosophers, whom they imagine to be their rivals. They are a class who are very likely to get mauled by Euthydemus and hisfriends, and have a great notion of their own wisdom; for they imaginethemselves to have all the advantages and none of the drawbacks bothof politics and of philosophy. They do not understand the principles ofcombination, and hence are ignorant that the union of two good thingswhich have different ends produces a compound inferior to either of themtaken separately. 

Crito is anxious about the education of his children, one of whom isgrowing up. The description of Dionysodorus and Euthydemus suggests tohim the reflection that the professors of education are strange beings. Socrates consoles him with the remark that the good in all professionsare few, and recommends that 'he and his house' should continue to servephilosophy, and not mind about its professors. 

. . . 

There is a stage in the history of philosophy in which the old is dyingout, and the new has not yet come into full life. Great philosophieslike the Eleatic or Heraclitean, which have enlarged the boundaries ofthe human mind, begin to pass away in words. They subsist only as formswhich have rooted themselves in language--as troublesome elementsof thought which cannot be either used or explained away. The sameabsoluteness which was once attributed to abstractions is now attachedto the words which are the signs of them. The philosophy which inthe first and second generation was a great and inspiring effort ofreflection, in the third becomes sophistical, verbal, eristic. 

It is this stage of philosophy which Plato satirises in the Euthydemus. The fallacies which are noted by him appear trifling to us now, but theywere not trifling in the age before logic, in the decline of the earlierGreek philosophies, at a time when language was first beginning toperplex human thought. Besides he is caricaturing them; they probablyreceived more subtle forms at the hands of those who seriouslymaintained them. They are patent to us in Plato, and we are inclined towonder how any one could ever have been deceived by them; but we mustremember also that there was a time when the human mind was only withgreat difficulty disentangled from such fallacies. 

To appreciate fully the drift of the Euthydemus, we should imagine amental state in which not individuals only, but whole schools duringmore than one generation, were animated by the desire to exclude theconception of rest, and therefore the very word 'this' (Theaet. ) fromlanguage; in which the ideas of space, time, matter, motion, were provedto be contradictory and imaginary; in which the nature of qualitativechange was a puzzle, and even differences of degree, when applied toabstract notions, were not understood; in which there was no analysis ofgrammar, and mere puns or plays of words received serious attention;in which contradiction itself was denied, and, on the one hand, everypredicate was affirmed to be true of every subject, and on the other, it was held that no predicate was true of any subject, and that nothingwas, or was known, or could be spoken. Let us imagine disputes carriedon with religious earnestness and more than scholastic subtlety, inwhich the catchwords of philosophy are completely detached from theircontext. (Compare Theaet. ) To such disputes the humour, whether of Platoin the ancient, or of Pope and Swift in the modern world, is the naturalenemy. Nor must we forget that in modern times also there is no fallacyso gross, no trick of language so transparent, no abstraction so barrenand unmeaning, no form of thought so contradictory to experience, whichhas not been found to satisfy the minds of philosophical enquirers at acertain stage, or when regarded from a certain point of view only. Thepeculiarity of the fallacies of our own age is that we live within them, and are therefore generally unconscious of them. 

Aristotle has analysed several of the same fallacies in his book 'DeSophisticis Elenchis, ' which Plato, with equal command of their truenature, has preferred to bring to the test of ridicule. At first weare only struck with the broad humour of this 'reductio ad absurdum:'gradually we perceive that some important questions begin to emerge. Here, as everywhere else, Plato is making war against the philosopherswho put words in the place of things, who tear arguments to tatters, whodeny predication, and thus make knowledge impossible, to whom ideasand objects of sense have no fixedness, but are in a state of perpetualoscillation and transition. Two great truths seem to be indirectlytaught through these fallacies: (1) The uncertainty of language, which allows the same words to be used in different meanings, or withdifferent degrees of meaning: (2) The necessary limitation or relativenature of all phenomena. Plato is aware that his own doctrine ofideas, as well as the Eleatic Being and Not-being, alike admit of beingregarded as verbal fallacies. The sophism advanced in the Meno, 'thatyou cannot enquire either into what you know or do not know, ' islightly touched upon at the commencement of the Dialogue; the thesis ofProtagoras, that everything is true to him to whom it seems to betrue, is satirized. In contrast with these fallacies is maintained theSocratic doctrine that happiness is gained by knowledge. The grammaticalpuzzles with which the Dialogue concludes probably contain allusionsto tricks of language which may have been practised by the disciplesof Prodicus or Antisthenes. They would have had more point, if we wereacquainted with the writings against which Plato's humour is directed. Most of the jests appear to have a serious meaning; but we have lost theclue to some of them, and cannot determine whether, as in the Cratylus, Plato has or has not mixed up purely unmeaning fun with his satire. 

The two discourses of Socrates may be contrasted in several respectswith the exhibition of the Sophists: (1) In their perfect relevancy tothe subject of discussion, whereas the Sophistical discourses are whollyirrelevant: (2) In their enquiring sympathetic tone, which encouragesthe youth, instead of 'knocking him down, ' after the manner of thetwo Sophists: (3) In the absence of any definite conclusion--for whileSocrates and the youth are agreed that philosophy is to be studied, theyare not able to arrive at any certain result about the art which is toteach it. This is a question which will hereafter be answered in theRepublic; as the conception of the kingly art is more fully developed inthe Politicus, and the caricature of rhetoric in the Gorgias. 

The characters of the Dialogue are easily intelligible. There isSocrates once more in the character of an old man; and his equal inyears, Crito, the father of Critobulus, like Lysimachus in the Laches, his fellow demesman (Apol. ), to whom the scene is narrated, and who onceor twice interrupts with a remark after the manner of the interlocutorin the Phaedo, and adds his commentary at the end; Socrates makesa playful allusion to his money-getting habits. There is the youthCleinias, the grandson of Alcibiades, who may be compared with Lysis, Charmides, Menexenus, and other ingenuous youths out of whose mouthsSocrates draws his own lessons, and to whom he always seems to stand ina kindly and sympathetic relation. Crito will not believe that Socrateshas not improved or perhaps invented the answers of Cleinias (comparePhaedrus). The name of the grandson of Alcibiades, who is described aslong dead, (Greek), and who died at the age of forty-four, in the year404 B. C. , suggests not only that the intended scene of the Euthydemuscould not have been earlier than 404, but that as a fact this Dialoguecould not have been composed before 390 at the soonest. Ctesippus, who is the lover of Cleinias, has been already introduced to us in theLysis, and seems there too to deserve the character which is here givenhim, of a somewhat uproarious young man. But the chief study of allis the picture of the two brothers, who are unapproachable in theireffrontery, equally careless of what they say to others and of what issaid to them, and never at a loss. They are 'Arcades ambo et cantarepares et respondere parati. ' Some superior degree of wit or subtlety isattributed to Euthydemus, who sees the trap in which Socrates catchesDionysodorus. 

The epilogue or conclusion of the Dialogue has been criticised asinconsistent with the general scheme. Such a criticism is like similarcriticisms on Shakespeare, and proceeds upon a narrow notion of thevariety which the Dialogue, like the drama, seems to admit. Plato in theabundance of his dramatic power has chosen to write a play upon a play, just as he often gives us an argument within an argument. At the sametime he takes the opportunity of assailing another class of personswho are as alien from the spirit of philosophy as Euthydemus andDionysodorus. The Eclectic, the Syncretist, the Doctrinaire, have beenapt to have a bad name both in ancient and modern times. The personswhom Plato ridicules in the epilogue to the Euthydemus are of thisclass. They occupy a border-ground between philosophy and politics; theykeep out of the dangers of politics, and at the same time use philosophyas a means of serving their own interests. Plato quaintly describes themas making two good things, philosophy and politics, a little worse byperverting the objects of both. Men like Antiphon or Lysias would betypes of the class. Out of a regard to the respectabilities of life, they are disposed to censure the interest which Socrates takes in theexhibition of the two brothers. They do not understand, any more thanCrito, that he is pursuing his vocation of detecting the follies ofmankind, which he finds 'not unpleasant. ' (Compare Apol. )

Education is the common subject of all Plato's earlier Dialogues. Theconcluding remark of Crito, that he has a difficulty in educating histwo sons, and the advice of Socrates to him that he should not giveup philosophy because he has no faith in philosophers, seems to be apreparation for the more peremptory declaration of the Meno that 'Virtuecannot be taught because there are no teachers. '

The reasons for placing the Euthydemus early in the series are: (1)the similarity in plan and style to the Protagoras, Charmides, andLysis;--the relation of Socrates to the Sophists is still that ofhumorous antagonism, not, as in the later Dialogues of Plato, ofembittered hatred; and the places and persons have a considerable familylikeness; (2) the Euthydemus belongs to the Socratic period in whichSocrates is represented as willing to learn, but unable to teach; andin the spirit of Xenophon's Memorabilia, philosophy is defined as 'theknowledge which will make us happy;' (3) we seem to have passed thestage arrived at in the Protagoras, for Socrates is no longer discussingwhether virtue can be taught--from this question he is relieved by theingenuous declaration of the youth Cleinias; and (4) not yet to havereached the point at which he asserts 'that there are no teachers. ' Suchgrounds are precarious, as arguments from style and plan are apt tobe (Greek). But no arguments equally strong can be urged in favour ofassigning to the Euthydemus any other position in the series. 

EUTHYDEMUS

PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Socrates, who is the narrator of the Dialogue. Crito, Cleinias, Euthydemus, Dionysodorus, Ctesippus. 

SCENE: The Lyceum. 

CRITO: Who was the person, Socrates, with whom you were talkingyesterday at the Lyceum? There was such a crowd around you that I couldnot get within hearing, but I caught a sight of him over their heads, and I made out, as I thought, that he was a stranger with whom you weretalking: who was he?

SOCRATES: There were two, Crito; which of them do you mean?

CRITO: The one whom I mean was seated second from you on the right-handside. In the middle was Cleinias the young son of Axiochus, who haswonderfully grown; he is only about the age of my own Critobulus, buthe is much forwarder and very good-looking: the other is thin and looksyounger than he is. 

SOCRATES: He whom you mean, Crito, is Euthydemus; and on my lefthand there was his brother Dionysodorus, who also took part in theconversation. 

CRITO: Neither of them are known to me, Socrates; they are a newimportation of Sophists, as I should imagine. Of what country are they, and what is their line of wisdom?

SOCRATES: As to their origin, I believe that they are natives of thispart of the world, and have migrated from Chios to Thurii; they weredriven out of Thurii, and have been living for many years past inthese regions. As to their wisdom, about which you ask, Crito, theyare wonderful--consummate! I never knew what the true pancratiast wasbefore; they are simply made up of fighting, not like the two Acarnanianbrothers who fight with their bodies only, but this pair of heroes, besides being perfect in the use of their bodies, are invincible inevery sort of warfare; for they are capital at fighting in armour, andwill teach the art to any one who pays them; and also they are mostskilful in legal warfare; they will plead themselves and teach others tospeak and to compose speeches which will have an effect upon the courts. And this was only the beginning of their wisdom, but they have at lastcarried out the pancratiastic art to the very end, and have mastered theonly mode of fighting which had been hitherto neglected by them; and nowno one dares even to stand up against them: such is their skill inthe war of words, that they can refute any proposition whether true orfalse. Now I am thinking, Crito, of placing myself in their hands; forthey say that in a short time they can impart their skill to any one. 

CRITO: But, Socrates, are you not too old? there may be reason to fearthat. 

SOCRATES: Certainly not, Crito; as I will prove to you, for I have theconsolation of knowing that they began this art of disputation which Icovet, quite, as I may say, in old age; last year, or the year before, they had none of their new wisdom. I am only apprehensive that I maybring the two strangers into disrepute, as I have done Connus the son ofMetrobius, the harp-player, who is still my music-master; for when theboys who go to him see me going with them, they laugh at me and call himgrandpapa's master. Now I should not like the strangers to experiencesimilar treatment; the fear of ridicule may make them unwilling toreceive me; and therefore, Crito, I shall try and persuade some old mento accompany me to them, as I persuaded them to go with me to Connus, and I hope that you will make one: and perhaps we had better take yoursons as a bait; they will want to have them as pupils, and for the sakeof them willing to receive us. 

CRITO: I see no objection, Socrates, if you like; but first I wishthat you would give me a description of their wisdom, that I may knowbeforehand what we are going to learn. 

SOCRATES: In less than no time you shall hear; for I cannot say that Idid not attend--I paid great attention to them, and I remember and willendeavour to repeat the whole story. Providentially I was sitting alonein the dressing-room of the Lyceum where you saw me, and was about todepart; when I was getting up I recognized the familiar divine sign: soI sat down again, and in a little while the two brothers Euthydemus andDionysodorus came in, and several others with them, whom I believe tobe their disciples, and they walked about in the covered court; they hadnot taken more than two or three turns when Cleinias entered, who, as you truly say, is very much improved: he was followed by a host oflovers, one of whom was Ctesippus the Paeanian, a well-bred youth, butalso having the wildness of youth. Cleinias saw me from the entrance asI was sitting alone, and at once came and sat down on the right hand ofme, as you describe; and Dionysodorus and Euthydemus, when they saw him, at first stopped and talked with one another, now and then glancing atus, for I particularly watched them; and then Euthydemus came andsat down by the youth, and the other by me on the left hand; the restanywhere. I saluted the brothers, whom I had not seen for a long time;and then I said to Cleinias: Here are two wise men, Euthydemus andDionysodorus, Cleinias, wise not in a small but in a large way ofwisdom, for they know all about war, --all that a good general oughtto know about the array and command of an army, and the whole art offighting in armour: and they know about law too, and can teach a man howto use the weapons of the courts when he is injured. 

They heard me say this, but only despised me. I observed that theylooked at one another, and both of them laughed; and then Euthydemussaid: Those, Socrates, are matters which we no longer pursue seriously;to us they are secondary occupations. 

Indeed, I said, if such occupations are regarded by you as secondary, what must the principal one be; tell me, I beseech you, what that noblestudy is?

The teaching of virtue, Socrates, he replied, is our principaloccupation; and we believe that we can impart it better and quicker thanany man. 

My God! I said, and where did you learn that? I always thought, as I wassaying just now, that your chief accomplishment was the art of fightingin armour; and I used to say as much of you, for I remember that youprofessed this when you were here before. But now if you really have theother knowledge, O forgive me: I address you as I would superior beings, and ask you to pardon the impiety of my former expressions. But are youquite sure about this, Dionysodorus and Euthydemus? the promise is sovast, that a feeling of incredulity steals over me. 

You may take our word, Socrates, for the fact. 

Then I think you happier in having such a treasure than the great kingis in the possession of his kingdom. And please to tell me whether youintend to exhibit your wisdom; or what will you do?

That is why we have come hither, Socrates; and our purpose is not onlyto exhibit, but also to teach any one who likes to learn. 

But I can promise you, I said, that every unvirtuous person will wantto learn. I shall be the first; and there is the youth Cleinias, andCtesippus: and here are several others, I said, pointing to the loversof Cleinias, who were beginning to gather round us. Now Ctesippus wassitting at some distance from Cleinias; and when Euthydemus leanedforward in talking with me, he was prevented from seeing Cleinias, whowas between us; and so, partly because he wanted to look at his love, and also because he was interested, he jumped up and stood opposite tous: and all the other admirers of Cleinias, as well as the disciples ofEuthydemus and Dionysodorus, followed his example. And these were thepersons whom I showed to Euthydemus, telling him that they were alleager to learn: to which Ctesippus and all of them with one voicevehemently assented, and bid him exhibit the power of his wisdom. ThenI said: O Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, I earnestly request you to domyself and the company the favour to exhibit. There may be some troublein giving the whole exhibition; but tell me one thing, --can you make agood man of him only who is already convinced that he ought to learnof you, or of him also who is not convinced, either because he imaginesthat virtue is a thing which cannot be taught at all, or that you arenot the teachers of it? Has your art power to persuade him, who is ofthe latter temper of mind, that virtue can be taught; and that you arethe men from whom he will best learn it?

Certainly, Socrates, said Dionysodorus; our art will do both. 

And you and your brother, Dionysodorus, I said, of all men who are nowliving are the most likely to stimulate him to philosophy and to thestudy of virtue?

Yes, Socrates, I rather think that we are. 

Then I wish that you would be so good as to defer the other part of theexhibition, and only try to persuade the youth whom you see here that heought to be a philosopher and study virtue. Exhibit that, and you willconfer a great favour on me and on every one present; for the fact isI and all of us are extremely anxious that he should become truly good. His name is Cleinias, and he is the son of Axiochus, and grandson of theold Alcibiades, cousin of the Alcibiades that now is. He is quite young, and we are naturally afraid that some one may get the start of us, andturn his mind in a wrong direction, and he may be ruined. Your visit, therefore, is most happily timed; and I hope that you will make a trialof the young man, and converse with him in our presence, if you have noobjection. 

These were pretty nearly the expressions which I used; and Euthydemus, in a manly and at the same time encouraging tone, replied: There canbe no objection, Socrates, if the young man is only willing to answerquestions. 

He is quite accustomed to do so, I replied; for his friends often comeand ask him questions and argue with him; and therefore he is quite athome in answering. 

What followed, Crito, how can I rightly narrate? For not slight is thetask of rehearsing infinite wisdom, and therefore, like the poets, I ought to commence my relation with an invocation to Memory and theMuses. Now Euthydemus, if I remember rightly, began nearly as follows: OCleinias, are those who learn the wise or the ignorant?

The youth, overpowered by the question blushed, and in his perplexitylooked at me for help; and I, knowing that he was disconcerted, said:Take courage, Cleinias, and answer like a man whichever you think;for my belief is that you will derive the greatest benefit from theirquestions. 

Whichever he answers, said Dionysodorus, leaning forward so as to catchmy ear, his face beaming with laughter, I prophesy that he will berefuted, Socrates. 

While he was speaking to me, Cleinias gave his answer: and therefore Ihad no time to warn him of the predicament in which he was placed, andhe answered that those who learned were the wise. 

Euthydemus proceeded: There are some whom you would call teachers, arethere not?

The boy assented. 

And they are the teachers of those who learn--the grammar-master and thelyre-master used to teach you and other boys; and you were the learners?

Yes. 

And when you were learners you did not as yet know the things which youwere learning?

No, he said. 

And were you wise then?

No, indeed, he said. 

But if you were not wise you were unlearned?

Certainly. 

You then, learning what you did not know, were unlearned when you werelearning?

The youth nodded assent. 

Then the unlearned learn, and not the wise, Cleinias, as you imagine. 

At these words the followers of Euthydemus, of whom I spoke, like achorus at the bidding of their director, laughed and cheered. Then, before the youth had time to recover his breath, Dionysodorus cleverlytook him in hand, and said: Yes, Cleinias; and when the grammar-masterdictated anything to you, were they the wise boys or the unlearned wholearned the dictation?

The wise, replied Cleinias. 

Then after all the wise are the learners and not the unlearned; and yourlast answer to Euthydemus was wrong. 

Then once more the admirers of the two heroes, in an ecstasy at theirwisdom, gave vent to another peal of laughter, while the rest of us weresilent and amazed. Euthydemus, observing this, determined to perseverewith the youth; and in order to heighten the effect went on askinganother similar question, which might be compared to the double turn ofan expert dancer. Do those, said he, who learn, learn what they know, orwhat they do not know?

Again Dionysodorus whispered to me: That, Socrates, is just another ofthe same sort. 

Good heavens, I said; and your last question was so good!

Like all our other questions, Socrates, he replied--inevitable. 

I see the reason, I said, why you are in such reputation among yourdisciples. 

Meanwhile Cleinias had answered Euthydemus that those who learned learnwhat they do not know; and he put him through a series of questions thesame as before. 

Do you not know letters?

He assented. 

All letters?

Yes. 

But when the teacher dictates to you, does he not dictate letters?

To this also he assented. 

Then if you know all letters, he dictates that which you know?

This again was admitted by him. 

Then, said the other, you do not learn that which he dictates; but heonly who does not know letters learns?

Nay, said Cleinias; but I do learn. 

Then, said he, you learn what you know, if you know all the letters?

He admitted that. 

Then, he said, you were wrong in your answer. 

The word was hardly out of his mouth when Dionysodorus took up theargument, like a ball which he caught, and had another throw at theyouth. Cleinias, he said, Euthydemus is deceiving you. For tell me now, is not learning acquiring knowledge of that which one learns?

Cleinias assented. 

And knowing is having knowledge at the time?

He agreed. 

And not knowing is not having knowledge at the time?

He admitted that. 

And are those who acquire those who have or have not a thing?

Those who have not. 

And have you not admitted that those who do not know are of the numberof those who have not?

He nodded assent. 

Then those who learn are of the class of those who acquire, and not ofthose who have?

He agreed. 

Then, Cleinias, he said, those who do not know learn, and not those whoknow. 

Euthydemus was proceeding to give the youth a third fall; but I knewthat he was in deep water, and therefore, as I wanted to give him arespite lest he should be disheartened, I said to him consolingly: Youmust not be surprised, Cleinias, at the singularity of their mode ofspeech: this I say because you may not understand what the two strangersare doing with you; they are only initiating you after the manner ofthe Corybantes in the mysteries; and this answers to the enthronement, which, if you have ever been initiated, is, as you will know, accompanied by dancing and sport; and now they are just prancing anddancing about you, and will next proceed to initiate you; imagine thenthat you have gone through the first part of the sophistical ritual, which, as Prodicus says, begins with initiation into the correct useof terms. The two foreign gentlemen, perceiving that you did not know, wanted to explain to you that the word 'to learn' has two meanings, andis used, first, in the sense of acquiring knowledge of some matter ofwhich you previously have no knowledge, and also, when you have theknowledge, in the sense of reviewing this matter, whether something doneor spoken by the light of this newly-acquired knowledge; the latteris generally called 'knowing' rather than 'learning, ' but the word'learning' is also used; and you did not see, as they explained to you, that the term is employed of two opposite sorts of men, of those whoknow, and of those who do not know. There was a similar trick in thesecond question, when they asked you whether men learn what they knowor what they do not know. These parts of learning are not serious, andtherefore I say that the gentlemen are not serious, but are only playingwith you. For if a man had all that sort of knowledge that ever was, hewould not be at all the wiser; he would only be able to play with men, tripping them up and oversetting them with distinctions of words. Hewould be like a person who pulls away a stool from some one when he isabout to sit down, and then laughs and makes merry at the sight of hisfriend overturned and laid on his back. And you must regard all that hashitherto passed between you and them as merely play. But in what is tofollow I am certain that they will exhibit to you their serious purpose, and keep their promise (I will show them how); for they promised to giveme a sample of the hortatory philosophy, but I suppose that they wantedto have a game with you first. And now, Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, I think that we have had enough of this. Will you let me see youexplaining to the young man how he is to apply himself to the study ofvirtue and wisdom? And I will first show you what I conceive to be thenature of the task, and what sort of a discourse I desire to hear; andif I do this in a very inartistic and ridiculous manner, do not laughat me, for I only venture to improvise before you because I am eagerto hear your wisdom: and I must therefore ask you and your disciples torefrain from laughing. And now, O son of Axiochus, let me put a questionto you: Do not all men desire happiness? And yet, perhaps, this is oneof those ridiculous questions which I am afraid to ask, and which oughtnot to be asked by a sensible man: for what human being is there whodoes not desire happiness?

There is no one, said Cleinias, who does not. 

Well, then, I said, since we all of us desire happiness, how can we behappy?--that is the next question. Shall we not be happy if we have manygood things? And this, perhaps, is even a more simple question than thefirst, for there can be no doubt of the answer. 

He assented. 

And what things do we esteem good? No solemn sage is required to tell usthis, which may be easily answered; for every one will say that wealthis a good. 

Certainly, he said. 

And are not health and beauty goods, and other personal gifts?

He agreed. 

Can there be any doubt that good birth, and power, and honours in one'sown land, are goods?

He assented. 

And what other goods are there? I said. What do you say of temperance, justice, courage: do you not verily and indeed think, Cleinias, that weshall be more right in ranking them as goods than in not ranking them asgoods? For a dispute might possibly arise about this. What then do yousay?

They are goods, said Cleinias. 

Very well, I said; and where in the company shall we find a place forwisdom--among the goods or not?

Among the goods. 

And now, I said, think whether we have left out any considerable goods. 

I do not think that we have, said Cleinias. 

Upon recollection, I said, indeed I am afraid that we have left out thegreatest of them all. 

What is that? he asked. 

Fortune, Cleinias, I replied; which all, even the most foolish, admit tobe the greatest of goods. 

True, he said. 

On second thoughts, I added, how narrowly, O son of Axiochus, have youand I escaped making a laughing-stock of ourselves to the strangers. 

Why do you say so?

Why, because we have already spoken of good-fortune, and are butrepeating ourselves. 

What do you mean?

I mean that there is something ridiculous in again putting forwardgood-fortune, which has a place in the list already, and saying the samething twice over. 

He asked what was the meaning of this, and I replied: Surely wisdom isgood-fortune; even a child may know that. 

The simple-minded youth was amazed; and, observing his surprise, I saidto him: Do you not know, Cleinias, that flute-players are most fortunateand successful in performing on the flute?

He assented. 

And are not the scribes most fortunate in writing and reading letters?

Certainly. 

Amid the dangers of the sea, again, are any more fortunate on the wholethan wise pilots?

None, certainly. 

And if you were engaged in war, in whose company would you rather takethe risk--in company with a wise general, or with a foolish one?

With a wise one. 

And if you were ill, whom would you rather have as a companion in adangerous illness--a wise physician, or an ignorant one?

A wise one. 

You think, I said, that to act with a wise man is more fortunate than toact with an ignorant one?

He assented. 

Then wisdom always makes men fortunate: for by wisdom no man would evererr, and therefore he must act rightly and succeed, or his wisdom wouldbe wisdom no longer. 

We contrived at last, somehow or other, to agree in a generalconclusion, that he who had wisdom had no need of fortune. I thenrecalled to his mind the previous state of the question. You remember, Isaid, our making the admission that we should be happy and fortunate ifmany good things were present with us?

He assented. 

And should we be happy by reason of the presence of good things, if theyprofited us not, or if they profited us?

If they profited us, he said. 

And would they profit us, if we only had them and did not use them? Forexample, if we had a great deal of food and did not eat, or a great dealof drink and did not drink, should we be profited?

Certainly not, he said. 

Or would an artisan, who had all the implements necessary for his work, and did not use them, be any the better for the possession of them? Forexample, would a carpenter be any the better for having all his toolsand plenty of wood, if he never worked?

Certainly not, he said. 

And if a person had wealth and all the goods of which we were just nowspeaking, and did not use them, would he be happy because he possessedthem?

No indeed, Socrates. 

Then, I said, a man who would be happy must not only have the goodthings, but he must also use them; there is no advantage in merelyhaving them?

True. 

Well, Cleinias, but if you have the use as well as the possession ofgood things, is that sufficient to confer happiness?

Yes, in my opinion. 

And may a person use them either rightly or wrongly?

He must use them rightly. 

That is quite true, I said. And the wrong use of a thing is far worsethan the non-use; for the one is an evil, and the other is neither agood nor an evil. You admit that?

He assented. 

Now in the working and use of wood, is not that which gives the rightuse simply the knowledge of the carpenter?

Nothing else, he said. 

And surely, in the manufacture of vessels, knowledge is that which givesthe right way of making them?

He agreed. 

And in the use of the goods of which we spoke at first--wealth andhealth and beauty, is not knowledge that which directs us to the rightuse of them, and regulates our practice about them?

He assented. 

Then in every possession and every use of a thing, knowledge is thatwhich gives a man not only good-fortune but success?

He again assented. 

And tell me, I said, O tell me, what do possessions profit a man, if hehave neither good sense nor wisdom? Would a man be better off, havingand doing many things without wisdom, or a few things with wisdom?Look at the matter thus: If he did fewer things would he not make fewermistakes? if he made fewer mistakes would he not have fewer misfortunes?and if he had fewer misfortunes would he not be less miserable?

Certainly, he said. 

And who would do least--a poor man or a rich man?

A poor man. 

A weak man or a strong man?

A weak man. 

A noble man or a mean man?

A mean man. 

And a coward would do less than a courageous and temperate man?

Yes. 

And an indolent man less than an active man?

He assented. 

And a slow man less than a quick; and one who had dull perceptions ofseeing and hearing less than one who had keen ones?

All this was mutually allowed by us. 

Then, I said, Cleinias, the sum of the matter appears to be that thegoods of which we spoke before are not to be regarded as goods inthemselves, but the degree of good and evil in them depends on whetherthey are or are not under the guidance of knowledge: under the guidanceof ignorance, they are greater evils than their opposites, inasmuch asthey are more able to minister to the evil principle which rules them;and when under the guidance of wisdom and prudence, they are greatergoods: but in themselves they are nothing?

That, he replied, is obvious. 

What then is the result of what has been said? Is not this theresult--that other things are indifferent, and that wisdom is the onlygood, and ignorance the only evil?

He assented. 

Let us consider a further point, I said: Seeing that all men desirehappiness, and happiness, as has been shown, is gained by a use, anda right use, of the things of life, and the right use of them, andgood-fortune in the use of them, is given by knowledge, --the inferenceis that everybody ought by all means to try and make himself as wise ashe can?

Yes, he said. 

And when a man thinks that he ought to obtain this treasure, far morethan money, from a father or a guardian or a friend or a suitor, whethercitizen or stranger--the eager desire and prayer to them that they wouldimpart wisdom to you, is not at all dishonourable, Cleinias; nor is anyone to be blamed for doing any honourable service or ministration to anyman, whether a lover or not, if his aim is to get wisdom. Do you agree?I said. 

Yes, he said, I quite agree, and think that you are right. 

Yes, I said, Cleinias, if only wisdom can be taught, and does notcome to man spontaneously; for this is a point which has still to beconsidered, and is not yet agreed upon by you and me--

But I think, Socrates, that wisdom can be taught, he said. 

Best of men, I said, I am delighted to hear you say so; and I amalso grateful to you for having saved me from a long and tiresomeinvestigation as to whether wisdom can be taught or not. But now, asyou think that wisdom can be taught, and that wisdom only can make a manhappy and fortunate, will you not acknowledge that all of us ought tolove wisdom, and you individually will try to love her?

Certainly, Socrates, he said; I will do my best. 

I was pleased at hearing this; and I turned to Dionysodorus andEuthydemus and said: That is an example, clumsy and tedious I admit, ofthe sort of exhortations which I would have you give; and I hope thatone of you will set forth what I have been saying in a more artisticstyle: or at least take up the enquiry where I left off, and proceed toshow the youth whether he should have all knowledge; or whether there isone sort of knowledge only which will make him good and happy, and whatthat is. For, as I was saying at first, the improvement of this youngman in virtue and wisdom is a matter which we have very much at heart. 

Thus I spoke, Crito, and was all attention to what was coming. I wantedto see how they would approach the question, and where they would startin their exhortation to the young man that he should practise wisdom andvirtue. Dionysodorus, who was the elder, spoke first. Everybody's eyeswere directed towards him, perceiving that something wonderful mightshortly be expected. And certainly they were not far wrong; for the man, Crito, began a remarkable discourse well worth hearing, and wonderfullypersuasive regarded as an exhortation to virtue. 

Tell me, he said, Socrates and the rest of you who say that you wantthis young man to become wise, are you in jest or in real earnest?

I was led by this to imagine that they fancied us to have been jestingwhen we asked them to converse with the youth, and that this made themjest and play, and being under this impression, I was the more decidedin saying that we were in profound earnest. Dionysodorus said:

Reflect, Socrates; you may have to deny your words. 

I have reflected, I said; and I shall never deny my words. 

Well, said he, and so you say that you wish Cleinias to become wise?

Undoubtedly. 

And he is not wise as yet?

At least his modesty will not allow him to say that he is. 

You wish him, he said, to become wise and not, to be ignorant?

That we do. 

You wish him to be what he is not, and no longer to be what he is?

I was thrown into consternation at this. 

Taking advantage of my consternation he added: You wish him no longer tobe what he is, which can only mean that you wish him to perish. Prettylovers and friends they must be who want their favourite not to be, orto perish!

When Ctesippus heard this he got very angry (as a lover well might) andsaid: Stranger of Thurii--if politeness would allow me I should say, A plague upon you! What can make you tell such a lie about me andthe others, which I hardly like to repeat, as that I wish Cleinias toperish?

Euthydemus replied: And do you think, Ctesippus, that it is possible totell a lie?

Yes, said Ctesippus; I should be mad to say anything else. 

And in telling a lie, do you tell the thing of which you speak or not?

You tell the thing of which you speak. 

And he who tells, tells that thing which he tells, and no other?

Yes, said Ctesippus. 

And that is a distinct thing apart from other things?

Certainly. 

And he who says that thing says that which is?

Yes. 

And he who says that which is, says the truth. And thereforeDionysodorus, if he says that which is, says the truth of you and nolie. 

Yes, Euthydemus, said Ctesippus; but in saying this, he says what isnot. 

Euthydemus answered: And that which is not is not?

True. 

And that which is not is nowhere?

Nowhere. 

And can any one do anything about that which has no existence, or do toCleinias that which is not and is nowhere?

I think not, said Ctesippus. 

Well, but do rhetoricians, when they speak in the assembly, do nothing?

Nay, he said, they do something. 

And doing is making?

Yes. 

And speaking is doing and making?

He agreed. 

Then no one says that which is not, for in saying what is not he wouldbe doing something; and you have already acknowledged that no one can dowhat is not. And therefore, upon your own showing, no one says what isfalse; but if Dionysodorus says anything, he says what is true and whatis. 

Yes, Euthydemus, said Ctesippus; but he speaks of things in a certainway and manner, and not as they really are. 

Why, Ctesippus, said Dionysodorus, do you mean to say that any onespeaks of things as they are?

Yes, he said--all gentlemen and truth-speaking persons. 

And are not good things good, and evil things evil?

He assented. 

And you say that gentlemen speak of things as they are?

Yes. 

Then the good speak evil of evil things, if they speak of them as theyare?

Yes, indeed, he said; and they speak evil of evil men. And if I may giveyou a piece of advice, you had better take care that they do not speakevil of you, since I can tell you that the good speak evil of the evil. 

And do they speak great things of the great, rejoined Euthydemus, andwarm things of the warm?

To be sure they do, said Ctesippus; and they speak coldly of the insipidand cold dialectician. 

You are abusive, Ctesippus, said Dionysodorus, you are abusive!

Indeed, I am not, Dionysodorus, he replied; for I love you and am givingyou friendly advice, and, if I could, would persuade you not like a boorto say in my presence that I desire my beloved, whom I value above allmen, to perish. 

I saw that they were getting exasperated with one another, so I madea joke with him and said: O Ctesippus, I think that we must allow thestrangers to use language in their own way, and not quarrel with themabout words, but be thankful for what they give us. If they know how todestroy men in such a way as to make good and sensible men out of badand foolish ones--whether this is a discovery of their own, or whetherthey have learned from some one else this new sort of death anddestruction which enables them to get rid of a bad man and turn him intoa good one--if they know this (and they do know this--at any ratethey said just now that this was the secret of their newly-discoveredart)--let them, in their phraseology, destroy the youth and make himwise, and all of us with him. But if you young men do not like to trustyourselves with them, then fiat experimentum in corpore senis; I will bethe Carian on whom they shall operate. And here I offer my old person toDionysodorus; he may put me into the pot, like Medea the Colchian, killme, boil me, if he will only make me good. 

Ctesippus said: And I, Socrates, am ready to commit myself to thestrangers; they may skin me alive, if they please (and I am pretty wellskinned by them already), if only my skin is made at last, not like thatof Marsyas, into a leathern bottle, but into a piece of virtue. And hereis Dionysodorus fancying that I am angry with him, when really I am notangry at all; I do but contradict him when I think that he is speakingimproperly to me: and you must not confound abuse and contradiction, Oillustrious Dionysodorus; for they are quite different things. 

Contradiction! said Dionysodorus; why, there never was such a thing. 

Certainly there is, he replied; there can be no question of that. Doyou, Dionysodorus, maintain that there is not?

You will never prove to me, he said, that you have heard any onecontradicting any one else. 

Indeed, said Ctesippus; then now you may hear me contradictingDionysodorus. 

Are you prepared to make that good?

Certainly, he said. 

Well, have not all things words expressive of them?

Yes. 

Of their existence or of their non-existence?

Of their existence. 

Yes, Ctesippus, and we just now proved, as you may remember, that no mancould affirm a negative; for no one could affirm that which is not. 

And what does that signify? said Ctesippus; you and I may contradict allthe same for that. 

But can we contradict one another, said Dionysodorus, when both of usare describing the same thing? Then we must surely be speaking the samething?

He assented. 

Or when neither of us is speaking of the same thing? For then neither ofus says a word about the thing at all?

He granted that proposition also. 

But when I describe something and you describe another thing, or I saysomething and you say nothing--is there any contradiction? How can hewho speaks contradict him who speaks not?

Here Ctesippus was silent; and I in my astonishment said: What do youmean, Dionysodorus? I have often heard, and have been amazed to hear, this thesis of yours, which is maintained and employed by the disciplesof Protagoras, and others before them, and which to me appears to bequite wonderful, and suicidal as well as destructive, and I think thatI am most likely to hear the truth about it from you. The dictum is thatthere is no such thing as falsehood; a man must either say what is trueor say nothing. Is not that your position?

He assented. 

But if he cannot speak falsely, may he not think falsely?

No, he cannot, he said. 

Then there is no such thing as false opinion?

No, he said. 

Then there is no such thing as ignorance, or men who are ignorant; foris not ignorance, if there be such a thing, a mistake of fact?

Certainly, he said. 

And that is impossible?

Impossible, he replied. 

Are you saying this as a paradox, Dionysodorus; or do you seriouslymaintain no man to be ignorant?

Refute me, he said. 

But how can I refute you, if, as you say, to tell a falsehood isimpossible?

Very true, said Euthydemus. 

Neither did I tell you just now to refute me, said Dionysodorus; for howcan I tell you to do that which is not?

O Euthydemus, I said, I have but a dull conception of these subtletiesand excellent devices of wisdom; I am afraid that I hardly understandthem, and you must forgive me therefore if I ask a very stupid question:if there be no falsehood or false opinion or ignorance, there can be nosuch thing as erroneous action, for a man cannot fail of acting as he isacting--that is what you mean?

Yes, he replied. 

And now, I said, I will ask my stupid question: If there is no suchthing as error in deed, word, or thought, then what, in the name ofgoodness, do you come hither to teach? And were you not just now sayingthat you could teach virtue best of all men, to any one who was willingto learn?

And are you such an old fool, Socrates, rejoined Dionysodorus, that youbring up now what I said at first--and if I had said anything last year, I suppose that you would bring that up too--but are non-plussed at thewords which I have just uttered?

Why, I said, they are not easy to answer; for they are the words of wisemen: and indeed I know not what to make of this word 'nonplussed, ' whichyou used last: what do you mean by it, Dionysodorus? You must meanthat I cannot refute your argument. Tell me if the words have any othersense. 

No, he replied, they mean what you say. And now answer. 

What, before you, Dionysodorus? I said. 

Answer, said he. 

And is that fair?

Yes, quite fair, he said. 

Upon what principle? I said. I can only suppose that you are a very wiseman who comes to us in the character of a great logician, and who knowswhen to answer and when not to answer--and now you will not open yourmouth at all, because you know that you ought not. 

You prate, he said, instead of answering. But if, my good sir, you admitthat I am wise, answer as I tell you. 

I suppose that I must obey, for you are master. Put the question. 

Are the things which have sense alive or lifeless?

They are alive. 

And do you know of any word which is alive?

I cannot say that I do. 

Then why did you ask me what sense my words had?

Why, because I was stupid and made a mistake. And yet, perhaps, I wasright after all in saying that words have a sense;--what do you say, wise man? If I was not in error, even you will not refute me, and allyour wisdom will be non-plussed; but if I did fall into error, thenagain you are wrong in saying that there is no error, --and this remarkwas made by you not quite a year ago. I am inclined to think, however, Dionysodorus and Euthydemus, that this argument lies where it was and isnot very likely to advance: even your skill in the subtleties of logic, which is really amazing, has not found out the way of throwing anotherand not falling yourself, now any more than of old. 

Ctesippus said: Men of Chios, Thurii, or however and whatever youcall yourselves, I wonder at you, for you seem to have no objection totalking nonsense. 

Fearing that there would be high words, I again endeavoured to sootheCtesippus, and said to him: To you, Ctesippus, I must repeat what Isaid before to Cleinias--that you do not understand the ways of thesephilosophers from abroad. They are not serious, but, like the Egyptianwizard, Proteus, they take different forms and deceive us by theirenchantments: and let us, like Menelaus, refuse to let them go untilthey show themselves to us in earnest. When they begin to be in earnesttheir full beauty will appear: let us then beg and entreat and beseechthem to shine forth. And I think that I had better once more exhibit theform in which I pray to behold them; it might be a guide to them. I willgo on therefore where I left off, as well as I can, in the hope that Imay touch their hearts and move them to pity, and that when they see medeeply serious and interested, they also may be serious. You, Cleinias, I said, shall remind me at what point we left off. Did we not agree thatphilosophy should be studied? and was not that our conclusion?

Yes, he replied. 

And philosophy is the acquisition of knowledge?

Yes, he said. 

And what knowledge ought we to acquire? May we not answer with absolutetruth--A knowledge which will do us good?

Certainly, he said. 

And should we be any the better if we went about having a knowledge ofthe places where most gold was hidden in the earth?

Perhaps we should, he said. 

But have we not already proved, I said, that we should be none thebetter off, even if without trouble and digging all the gold which thereis in the earth were ours? And if we knew how to convert stones intogold, the knowledge would be of no value to us, unless we also knew howto use the gold? Do you not remember? I said. 

I quite remember, he said. 

Nor would any other knowledge, whether of money-making, or of medicine, or of any other art which knows only how to make a thing, and not to useit when made, be of any good to us. Am I not right?

He agreed. 

And if there were a knowledge which was able to make men immortal, without giving them the knowledge of the way to use the immortality, neither would there be any use in that, if we may argue from the analogyof the previous instances?

To all this he agreed. 

Then, my dear boy, I said, the knowledge which we want is one that usesas well as makes?

True, he said. 

And our desire is not to be skilful lyre-makers, or artists of thatsort--far otherwise; for with them the art which makes is one, and theart which uses is another. Although they have to do with the same, theyare divided: for the art which makes and the art which plays on the lyrediffer widely from one another. Am I not right?

He agreed. 

And clearly we do not want the art of the flute-maker; this is onlyanother of the same sort?

He assented. 

But suppose, I said, that we were to learn the art of makingspeeches--would that be the art which would make us happy?

I should say, no, rejoined Cleinias. 

And why should you say so? I asked. 

I see, he replied, that there are some composers of speeches who donot know how to use the speeches which they make, just as the makersof lyres do not know how to use the lyres; and also some who are ofthemselves unable to compose speeches, but are able to use the speecheswhich the others make for them; and this proves that the art of makingspeeches is not the same as the art of using them. 

Yes, I said; and I take your words to be a sufficient proof that the artof making speeches is not one which will make a man happy. And yet Idid think that the art which we have so long been seeking might bediscovered in that direction; for the composers of speeches, whenever Imeet them, always appear to me to be very extraordinary men, Cleinias, and their art is lofty and divine, and no wonder. For their art is apart of the great art of enchantment, and hardly, if at all, inferiorto it: and whereas the art of the enchanter is a mode of charming snakesand spiders and scorpions, and other monsters and pests, this art oftheir's acts upon dicasts and ecclesiasts and bodies of men, for thecharming and pacifying of them. Do you agree with me?

Yes, he said, I think that you are quite right. 

Whither then shall we go, I said, and to what art shall we haverecourse?

I do not see my way, he said. 

But I think that I do, I replied. 

And what is your notion? asked Cleinias. 

I think that the art of the general is above all others the one of whichthe possession is most likely to make a man happy. 

I do not think so, he said. 

Why not? I said. 

The art of the general is surely an art of hunting mankind. 

What of that? I said. 

Why, he said, no art of hunting extends beyond hunting and capturing;and when the prey is taken the huntsman or fisherman cannot use it; butthey hand it over to the cook, and the geometricians and astronomers andcalculators (who all belong to the hunting class, for they do not maketheir diagrams, but only find out that which was previously contained inthem)--they, I say, not being able to use but only to catch their prey, hand over their inventions to the dialectician to be applied by him, ifthey have any sense in them. 

Good, I said, fairest and wisest Cleinias. And is this true?

Certainly, he said; just as a general when he takes a city or a camphands over his new acquisition to the statesman, for he does not knowhow to use them himself; or as the quail-taker transfers the quails tothe keeper of them. If we are looking for the art which is to make usblessed, and which is able to use that which it makes or takes, the artof the general is not the one, and some other must be found. 

CRITO: And do you mean, Socrates, that the youngster said all this?

SOCRATES: Are you incredulous, Crito?

CRITO: Indeed, I am; for if he did say so, then in my opinion he needsneither Euthydemus nor any one else to be his instructor. 

SOCRATES: Perhaps I may have forgotten, and Ctesippus was the realanswerer. 

CRITO: Ctesippus! nonsense. 

SOCRATES: All I know is that I heard these words, and that they were notspoken either by Euthydemus or Dionysodorus. I dare say, my good Crito, that they may have been spoken by some superior person: that I heardthem I am certain. 

CRITO: Yes, indeed, Socrates, by some one a good deal superior, as Ishould be disposed to think. But did you carry the search any further, and did you find the art which you were seeking?

SOCRATES: Find! my dear sir, no indeed. And we cut a poor figure; wewere like children after larks, always on the point of catching the art, which was always getting away from us. But why should I repeat the wholestory? At last we came to the kingly art, and enquired whether thatgave and caused happiness, and then we got into a labyrinth, and whenwe thought we were at the end, came out again at the beginning, havingstill to seek as much as ever. 

CRITO: How did that happen, Socrates?

SOCRATES: I will tell you; the kingly art was identified by us with thepolitical. 

CRITO: Well, and what came of that?

SOCRATES: To this royal or political art all the arts, including the artof the general, seemed to render up the supremacy, that being the onlyone which knew how to use what they produce. Here obviously was thevery art which we were seeking--the art which is the source of goodgovernment, and which may be described, in the language of Aeschylus, asalone sitting at the helm of the vessel of state, piloting and governingall things, and utilizing them. 

CRITO: And were you not right, Socrates?

SOCRATES: You shall judge, Crito, if you are willing to hear whatfollowed; for we resumed the enquiry, and a question of this sort wasasked: Does the kingly art, having this supreme authority, do anythingfor us? To be sure, was the answer. And would not you, Crito, say thesame?

CRITO: Yes, I should. 

SOCRATES: And what would you say that the kingly art does? If medicinewere supposed to have supreme authority over the subordinate arts, andI were to ask you a similar question about that, you would say--itproduces health?

CRITO: I should. 

SOCRATES: And what of your own art of husbandry, supposing that to havesupreme authority over the subject arts--what does that do? Does it notsupply us with the fruits of the earth?

CRITO: Yes. 

SOCRATES: And what does the kingly art do when invested with supremepower? Perhaps you may not be ready with an answer?

CRITO: Indeed I am not, Socrates. 

SOCRATES: No more were we, Crito. But at any rate you know that if thisis the art which we were seeking, it ought to be useful. 

CRITO: Certainly. 

SOCRATES: And surely it ought to do us some good?

CRITO: Certainly, Socrates. 

SOCRATES: And Cleinias and I had arrived at the conclusion thatknowledge of some kind is the only good. 

CRITO: Yes, that was what you were saying. 

SOCRATES: All the other results of politics, and they are many, as forexample, wealth, freedom, tranquillity, were neither good nor evil inthemselves; but the political science ought to make us wise, and impartknowledge to us, if that is the science which is likely to do us good, and make us happy. 

CRITO: Yes; that was the conclusion at which you had arrived, accordingto your report of the conversation. 

SOCRATES: And does the kingly art make men wise and good?

CRITO: Why not, Socrates?

SOCRATES: What, all men, and in every respect? and teach them all thearts, --carpentering, and cobbling, and the rest of them?

CRITO: I think not, Socrates. 

SOCRATES: But then what is this knowledge, and what are we to do withit? For it is not the source of any works which are neither good norevil, and gives no knowledge, but the knowledge of itself; what then canit be, and what are we to do with it? Shall we say, Crito, that it isthe knowledge by which we are to make other men good?

CRITO: By all means. 

SOCRATES: And in what will they be good and useful? Shall we repeatthat they will make others good, and that these others will make othersagain, without ever determining in what they are to be good; for we haveput aside the results of politics, as they are called. This is the old, old song over again; and we are just as far as ever, if not farther, from the knowledge of the art or science of happiness. 

CRITO: Indeed, Socrates, you do appear to have got into a greatperplexity. 

SOCRATES: Thereupon, Crito, seeing that I was on the point of shipwreck, I lifted up my voice, and earnestly entreated and called upon thestrangers to save me and the youth from the whirlpool of the argument;they were our Castor and Pollux, I said, and they should be serious, andshow us in sober earnest what that knowledge was which would enable usto pass the rest of our lives in happiness. 

CRITO: And did Euthydemus show you this knowledge?

SOCRATES: Yes, indeed; he proceeded in a lofty strain to the followingeffect: Would you rather, Socrates, said he, that I should show you thisknowledge about which you have been doubting, or shall I prove that youalready have it?

What, I said, are you blessed with such a power as this?

Indeed I am. 

Then I would much rather that you should prove me to have such aknowledge; at my time of life that will be more agreeable than having tolearn. 

Then tell me, he said, do you know anything?

Yes, I said, I know many things, but not anything of much importance. 

That will do, he said: And would you admit that anything is what it is, and at the same time is not what it is?

Certainly not. 

And did you not say that you knew something?

I did. 

If you know, you are knowing. 

Certainly, of the knowledge which I have. 

That makes no difference;--and must you not, if you are knowing, knowall things?

Certainly not, I said, for there are many other things which I do notknow. 

And if you do not know, you are not knowing. 

Yes, friend, of that which I do not know. 

Still you are not knowing, and you said just now that you were knowing;and therefore you are and are not at the same time, and in reference tothe same things. 

A pretty clatter, as men say, Euthydemus, this of yours! and will youexplain how I possess that knowledge for which we were seeking? Doyou mean to say that the same thing cannot be and also not be; andtherefore, since I know one thing, that I know all, for I cannot beknowing and not knowing at the same time, and if I know all things, thenI must have the knowledge for which we are seeking--May I assume this tobe your ingenious notion?

Out of your own mouth, Socrates, you are convicted, he said. 

Well, but, Euthydemus, I said, has that never happened to you? for if Iam only in the same case with you and our beloved Dionysodorus, I cannotcomplain. Tell me, then, you two, do you not know some things, and notknow others?

Certainly not, Socrates, said Dionysodorus. 

What do you mean, I said; do you know nothing?

Nay, he replied, we do know something. 

Then, I said, you know all things, if you know anything?

Yes, all things, he said; and that is as true of you as of us. 

O, indeed, I said, what a wonderful thing, and what a great blessing!And do all other men know all things or nothing?

Certainly, he replied; they cannot know some things, and not knowothers, and be at the same time knowing and not knowing. 

Then what is the inference? I said. 

They all know all things, he replied, if they know one thing. 

O heavens, Dionysodorus, I said, I see now that you are in earnest;hardly have I got you to that point. And do you really and truly knowall things, including carpentering and leather-cutting?

Certainly, he said. 

And do you know stitching?

Yes, by the gods, we do, and cobbling, too. 

And do you know things such as the numbers of the stars and of the sand?

Certainly; did you think we should say No to that?

By Zeus, said Ctesippus, interrupting, I only wish that you would giveme some proof which would enable me to know whether you speak truly. 

What proof shall I give you? he said. 

Will you tell me how many teeth Euthydemus has? and Euthydemus shalltell how many teeth you have. 

Will you not take our word that we know all things?

Certainly not, said Ctesippus: you must further tell us this one thing, and then we shall know that you are speak the truth; if you tell usthe number, and we count them, and you are found to be right, we willbelieve the rest. They fancied that Ctesippus was making game of them, and they refused, and they would only say in answer to each of hisquestions, that they knew all things. For at last Ctesippus began tothrow off all restraint; no question in fact was too bad for him; hewould ask them if they knew the foulest things, and they, like wildboars, came rushing on his blows, and fearlessly replied that they did. At last, Crito, I too was carried away by my incredulity, and askedEuthydemus whether Dionysodorus could dance. 

Certainly, he replied. 

And can he vault among swords, and turn upon a wheel, at his age? has hegot to such a height of skill as that?

He can do anything, he said. 

And did you always know this?

Always, he said. 

When you were children, and at your birth?

They both said that they did. 

This we could not believe. And Euthydemus said: You are incredulous, Socrates. 

Yes, I said, and I might well be incredulous, if I did not know you tobe wise men. 

But if you will answer, he said, I will make you confess to similarmarvels. 

Well, I said, there is nothing that I should like better than to beself-convicted of this, for if I am really a wise man, which I neverknew before, and you will prove to me that I know and have always knownall things, nothing in life would be a greater gain to me. 

Answer then, he said. 

Ask, I said, and I will answer. 

Do you know something, Socrates, or nothing?

Something, I said. 

And do you know with what you know, or with something else?

With what I know; and I suppose that you mean with my soul?

Are you not ashamed, Socrates, of asking a question when you are askedone?

Well, I said; but then what am I to do? for I will do whatever youbid; when I do not know what you are asking, you tell me to answernevertheless, and not to ask again. 

Why, you surely have some notion of my meaning, he said. 

Yes, I replied. 

Well, then, answer according to your notion of my meaning. 

Yes, I said; but if the question which you ask in one sense isunderstood and answered by me in another, will that please you--if Ianswer what is not to the point?

That will please me very well; but will not please you equally well, asI imagine. 

I certainly will not answer unless I understand you, I said. 

You will not answer, he said, according to your view of the meaning, because you will be prating, and are an ancient. 

Now I saw that he was getting angry with me for drawing distinctions, when he wanted to catch me in his springes of words. And I rememberedthat Connus was always angry with me when I opposed him, and thenhe neglected me, because he thought that I was stupid; and as I wasintending to go to Euthydemus as a pupil, I reflected that I had betterlet him have his way, as he might think me a blockhead, and refuseto take me. So I said: You are a far better dialectician than myself, Euthydemus, for I have never made a profession of the art, and thereforedo as you say; ask your questions once more, and I will answer. 

Answer then, he said, again, whether you know what you know withsomething, or with nothing. 

Yes, I said; I know with my soul. 

The man will answer more than the question; for I did not ask you, hesaid, with what you know, but whether you know with something. 

Again I replied, Through ignorance I have answered too much, but I hopethat you will forgive me. And now I will answer simply that I alwaysknow what I know with something. 

And is that something, he rejoined, always the same, or sometimes onething, and sometimes another thing?

Always, I replied, when I know, I know with this. 

Will you not cease adding to your answers?

My fear is that this word 'always' may get us into trouble. 

You, perhaps, but certainly not us. And now answer: Do you always knowwith this?

Always; since I am required to withdraw the words 'when I know. '

You always know with this, or, always knowing, do you know some thingswith this, and some things with something else, or do you know allthings with this?

All that I know, I replied, I know with this. 

There again, Socrates, he said, the addition is superfluous. 

Well, then, I said, I will take away the words 'that I know. '

Nay, take nothing away; I desire no favours of you; but let me ask:Would you be able to know all things, if you did not know all things?

Quite impossible. 

And now, he said, you may add on whatever you like, for you confess thatyou know all things. 

I suppose that is true, I said, if my qualification implied in the words'that I know' is not allowed to stand; and so I do know all things. 

And have you not admitted that you always know all things with thatwhich you know, whether you make the addition of 'when you know them'or not? for you have acknowledged that you have always and at once knownall things, that is to say, when you were a child, and at your birth, and when you were growing up, and before you were born, and before theheaven and earth existed, you knew all things, if you always know them;and I swear that you shall always continue to know all things, if I amof the mind to make you. 

But I hope that you will be of that mind, reverend Euthydemus, I said, if you are really speaking the truth, and yet I a little doubt yourpower to make good your words unless you have the help of your brotherDionysodorus; then you may do it. Tell me now, both of you, for althoughin the main I cannot doubt that I really do know all things, when I amtold so by men of your prodigious wisdom--how can I say that I know suchthings, Euthydemus, as that the good are unjust; come, do I know that ornot?

Certainly, you know that. 

What do I know?

That the good are not unjust. 

Quite true, I said; and that I have always known; but the question is, where did I learn that the good are unjust?

Nowhere, said Dionysodorus. 

Then, I said, I do not know this. 

You are ruining the argument, said Euthydemus to Dionysodorus; he willbe proved not to know, and then after all he will be knowing and notknowing at the same time. 

Dionysodorus blushed. 

I turned to the other, and said, What do you think, Euthydemus? Does notyour omniscient brother appear to you to have made a mistake?

What, replied Dionysodorus in a moment; am I the brother of Euthydemus?

Thereupon I said, Please not to interrupt, my good friend, or preventEuthydemus from proving to me that I know the good to be unjust; such alesson you might at least allow me to learn. 

You are running away, Socrates, said Dionysodorus, and refusing toanswer. 

No wonder, I said, for I am not a match for one of you, and a fortioriI must run away from two. I am no Heracles; and even Heracles could notfight against the Hydra, who was a she-Sophist, and had the wit to shootup many new heads when one of them was cut off; especially when he sawa second monster of a sea-crab, who was also a Sophist, and appearedto have newly arrived from a sea-voyage, bearing down upon him fromthe left, opening his mouth and biting. When the monster was growingtroublesome he called Iolaus, his nephew, to his help, who ablysuccoured him; but if my Iolaus, who is my brother Patrocles (thestatuary), were to come, he would only make a bad business worse. 

And now that you have delivered yourself of this strain, saidDionysodorus, will you inform me whether Iolaus was the nephew ofHeracles any more than he is yours?

I suppose that I had best answer you, Dionysodorus, I said, for youwill insist on asking--that I pretty well know--out of envy, in order toprevent me from learning the wisdom of Euthydemus. 

Then answer me, he said. 

Well then, I said, I can only reply that Iolaus was not my nephew atall, but the nephew of Heracles; and his father was not my brotherPatrocles, but Iphicles, who has a name rather like his, and was thebrother of Heracles. 

And is Patrocles, he said, your brother?

Yes, I said, he is my half-brother, the son of my mother, but not of myfather. 

Then he is and is not your brother. 

Not by the same father, my good man, I said, for Chaeredemus was hisfather, and mine was Sophroniscus. 

And was Sophroniscus a father, and Chaeredemus also?

Yes, I said; the former was my father, and the latter his. 

Then, he said, Chaeredemus is not a father. 

He is not my father, I said. 

But can a father be other than a father? or are you the same as a stone?

I certainly do not think that I am a stone, I said, though I am afraidthat you may prove me to be one. 

Are you not other than a stone?

I am. 

And being other than a stone, you are not a stone; and being other thangold, you are not gold?

Very true. 

And so Chaeredemus, he said, being other than a father, is not a father?

I suppose that he is not a father, I replied. 

For if, said Euthydemus, taking up the argument, Chaeredemus is afather, then Sophroniscus, being other than a father, is not a father;and you, Socrates, are without a father. 

Ctesippus, here taking up the argument, said: And is not your father inthe same case, for he is other than my father?

Assuredly not, said Euthydemus. 

Then he is the same?

He is the same. 

I cannot say that I like the connection; but is he only my father, Euthydemus, or is he the father of all other men?

Of all other men, he replied. Do you suppose the same person to be afather and not a father?

Certainly, I did so imagine, said Ctesippus. 

And do you suppose that gold is not gold, or that a man is not a man?

They are not 'in pari materia, ' Euthydemus, said Ctesippus, and you hadbetter take care, for it is monstrous to suppose that your father is thefather of all. 

But he is, he replied. 

What, of men only, said Ctesippus, or of horses and of all otheranimals?

Of all, he said. 

And your mother, too, is the mother of all?

Yes, our mother too. 

Yes; and your mother has a progeny of sea-urchins then?

Yes; and yours, he said. 

And gudgeons and puppies and pigs are your brothers?

And yours too. 

And your papa is a dog?

And so is yours, he said. 

If you will answer my questions, said Dionysodorus, I will soon extractthe same admissions from you, Ctesippus. You say that you have a dog. 

Yes, a villain of a one, said Ctesippus. 

And he has puppies?

Yes, and they are very like himself. 

And the dog is the father of them?

Yes, he said, I certainly saw him and the mother of the puppies cometogether. 

And is he not yours?

To be sure he is. 

Then he is a father, and he is yours; ergo, he is your father, and thepuppies are your brothers. 

Let me ask you one little question more, said Dionysodorus, quicklyinterposing, in order that Ctesippus might not get in his word: You beatthis dog?

Ctesippus said, laughing, Indeed I do; and I only wish that I could beatyou instead of him. 

Then you beat your father, he said. 

I should have far more reason to beat yours, said Ctesippus; what couldhe have been thinking of when he begat such wise sons? much good hasthis father of you and your brethren the puppies got out of this wisdomof yours. 

But neither he nor you, Ctesippus, have any need of much good. 

And have you no need, Euthydemus? he said. 

Neither I nor any other man; for tell me now, Ctesippus, if you think itgood or evil for a man who is sick to drink medicine when he wants it;or to go to war armed rather than unarmed. 

Good, I say. And yet I know that I am going to be caught in one of yourcharming puzzles. 

That, he replied, you will discover, if you answer; since you admitmedicine to be good for a man to drink, when wanted, must it not begood for him to drink as much as possible; when he takes his medicine, acartload of hellebore will not be too much for him?

Ctesippus said: Quite so, Euthydemus, that is to say, if he who drinksis as big as the statue of Delphi. 

And seeing that in war to have arms is a good thing, he ought to have asmany spears and shields as possible?

Very true, said Ctesippus; and do you think, Euthydemus, that he oughtto have one shield only, and one spear?

I do. 

And would you arm Geryon and Briareus in that way? Considering that youand your companion fight in armour, I thought that you would have knownbetter. . . Here Euthydemus held his peace, but Dionysodorus returned tothe previous answer of Ctesippus and said:--

Do you not think that the possession of gold is a good thing?

Yes, said Ctesippus, and the more the better. 

And to have money everywhere and always is a good?

Certainly, a great good, he said. 

And you admit gold to be a good?

Certainly, he replied. 

And ought not a man then to have gold everywhere and always, and as muchas possible in himself, and may he not be deemed the happiest of men whohas three talents of gold in his belly, and a talent in his pate, and astater of gold in either eye?

Yes, Euthydemus, said Ctesippus; and the Scythians reckon those who havegold in their own skulls to be the happiest and bravest of men (thatis only another instance of your manner of speaking about the dog andfather), and what is still more extraordinary, they drink out of theirown skulls gilt, and see the inside of them, and hold their own head intheir hands. 

And do the Scythians and others see that which has the quality ofvision, or that which has not? said Euthydemus. 

That which has the quality of vision clearly. 

And you also see that which has the quality of vision? he said. [Note:the ambiguity of (Greek), 'things visible and able to see, ' (Greek), 'the speaking of the silent, ' the silent denoting either the speakeror the subject of the speech, cannot be perfectly rendered in English. ]Compare Aristot. Soph. Elenchi (Poste's translation):--

'Of ambiguous propositions the following are instances:--

'I hope that you the enemy may slay. 

'Whom one knows, he knows. Either the person knowing or the person knownis here affirmed to know. 

'What one sees, that one sees: one sees a pillar: ergo, that one pillarsees. 

'What you ARE holding, that you are: you are holding a stone: ergo, astone you are. 

'Is a speaking of the silent possible? "The silent" denotes either thespeaker are the subject of speech. 

'There are three kinds of ambiguity of term or proposition. The first iswhen there is an equal linguistic propriety in several interpretations;the second when one is improper but customary; the third when theambiguity arises in the combination of elements that are in themselvesunambiguous, as in "knowing letters. " "Knowing" and "letters" areperhaps separately unambiguous, but in combination may imply either thatthe letters are known, or that they themselves have knowledge. Such arethe modes in which propositions and terms may be ambiguous. '

Yes, I do. 

Then do you see our garments?

Yes. 

Then our garments have the quality of vision. 

They can see to any extent, said Ctesippus. 

What can they see?

Nothing; but you, my sweet man, may perhaps imagine that they do notsee; and certainly, Euthydemus, you do seem to me to have been caughtnapping when you were not asleep, and that if it be possible to speakand say nothing--you are doing so. 

And may there not be a silence of the speaker? said Dionysodorus. 

Impossible, said Ctesippus. 

Or a speaking of the silent?

That is still more impossible, he said. 

But when you speak of stones, wood, iron bars, do you not speak of thesilent?

Not when I pass a smithy; for then the iron bars make a tremendous noiseand outcry if they are touched: so that here your wisdom is strangelymistaken; please, however, to tell me how you can be silent whenspeaking (I thought that Ctesippus was put upon his mettle becauseCleinias was present). 

When you are silent, said Euthydemus, is there not a silence of allthings?

Yes, he said. 

But if speaking things are included in all things, then the speaking aresilent. 

What, said Ctesippus; then all things are not silent?

Certainly not, said Euthydemus. 

Then, my good friend, do they all speak?

Yes; those which speak. 

Nay, said Ctesippus, but the question which I ask is whether all thingsare silent or speak?

Neither and both, said Dionysodorus, quickly interposing; I am sure thatyou will be 'non-plussed' at that answer. 

Here Ctesippus, as his manner was, burst into a roar of laughter; hesaid, That brother of yours, Euthydemus, has got into a dilemma; all isover with him. This delighted Cleinias, whose laughter made Ctesippusten times as uproarious; but I cannot help thinking that the rogue musthave picked up this answer from them; for there has been no wisdom liketheirs in our time. Why do you laugh, Cleinias, I said, at such solemnand beautiful things?

Why, Socrates, said Dionysodorus, did you ever see a beautiful thing?

Yes, Dionysodorus, I replied, I have seen many. 

Were they other than the beautiful, or the same as the beautiful?

Now I was in a great quandary at having to answer this question, and Ithought that I was rightly served for having opened my mouth at all: Isaid however, They are not the same as absolute beauty, but they havebeauty present with each of them. 

And are you an ox because an ox is present with you, or are youDionysodorus, because Dionysodorus is present with you?

God forbid, I replied. 

But how, he said, by reason of one thing being present with another, will one thing be another?

Is that your difficulty? I said. For I was beginning to imitate theirskill, on which my heart was set. 

Of course, he replied, I and all the world are in a difficulty about thenon-existent. 

What do you mean, Dionysodorus? I said. Is not the honourable honourableand the base base?

That, he said, is as I please. 

And do you please?

Yes, he said. 

And you will admit that the same is the same, and the other other; forsurely the other is not the same; I should imagine that even a childwill hardly deny the other to be other. But I think, Dionysodorus, thatyou must have intentionally missed the last question; for in general youand your brother seem to me to be good workmen in your own department, and to do the dialectician's business excellently well. 

What, said he, is the business of a good workman? tell me, in the firstplace, whose business is hammering?

The smith's. 

And whose the making of pots?

The potter's. 

And who has to kill and skin and mince and boil and roast?

The cook, I said. 

And if a man does his business he does rightly?

Certainly. 

And the business of the cook is to cut up and skin; you have admittedthat?

Yes, I have admitted that, but you must not be too hard upon me. 

Then if some one were to kill, mince, boil, roast the cook, he would dohis business, and if he were to hammer the smith, and make a pot of thepotter, he would do their business. 

Poseidon, I said, this is the crown of wisdom; can I ever hope to havesuch wisdom of my own?

And would you be able, Socrates, to recognize this wisdom when it hasbecome your own?

Certainly, I said, if you will allow me. 

What, he said, do you think that you know what is your own?

Yes, I do, subject to your correction; for you are the bottom, andEuthydemus is the top, of all my wisdom. 

Is not that which you would deem your own, he said, that which you havein your own power, and which you are able to use as you would desire, for example, an ox or a sheep--would you not think that which you couldsell and give and sacrifice to any god whom you pleased, to be your own, and that which you could not give or sell or sacrifice you would thinknot to be in your own power?

Yes, I said (for I was certain that something good would come out of thequestions, which I was impatient to hear); yes, such things, and suchthings only are mine. 

Yes, he said, and you would mean by animals living beings?

Yes, I said. 

You agree then, that those animals only are yours with which you havethe power to do all these things which I was just naming?

I agree. 

Then, after a pause, in which he seemed to be lost in the contemplationof something great, he said: Tell me, Socrates, have you an ancestralZeus? Here, anticipating the final move, like a person caught in anet, who gives a desperate twist that he may get away, I said: No, Dionysodorus, I have not. 

What a miserable man you must be then, he said; you are not an Athenianat all if you have no ancestral gods or temples, or any other mark ofgentility. 

Nay, Dionysodorus, I said, do not be rough; good words, if youplease; in the way of religion I have altars and temples, domestic andancestral, and all that other Athenians have. 

And have not other Athenians, he said, an ancestral Zeus?

That name, I said, is not to be found among the Ionians, whethercolonists or citizens of Athens; an ancestral Apollo there is, whois the father of Ion, and a family Zeus, and a Zeus guardian ofthe phratry, and an Athene guardian of the phratry. But the name ofancestral Zeus is unknown to us. 

No matter, said Dionysodorus, for you admit that you have Apollo, Zeus, and Athene. 

Certainly, I said. 

And they are your gods, he said. 

Yes, I said, my lords and ancestors. 

At any rate they are yours, he said, did you not admit that?

I did, I said; what is going to happen to me?

And are not these gods animals? for you admit that all things which havelife are animals; and have not these gods life?

They have life, I said. 

Then are they not animals?

They are animals, I said. 

And you admitted that of animals those are yours which you could giveaway or sell or offer in sacrifice, as you pleased?

I did admit that, Euthydemus, and I have no way of escape. 

Well then, said he, if you admit that Zeus and the other gods are yours, can you sell them or give them away or do what you will with them, asyou would with other animals?

At this I was quite struck dumb, Crito, and lay prostrate. Ctesippuscame to the rescue. 

Bravo, Heracles, brave words, said he. 

Bravo Heracles, or is Heracles a Bravo? said Dionysodorus. 

Poseidon, said Ctesippus, what awful distinctions. I will have no moreof them; the pair are invincible. 

Then, my dear Crito, there was universal applause of the speakers andtheir words, and what with laughing and clapping of hands and rejoicingsthe two men were quite overpowered; for hitherto their partisans onlyhad cheered at each successive hit, but now the whole company shoutedwith delight until the columns of the Lyceum returned the sound, seemingto sympathize in their joy. To such a pitch was I affected myself, thatI made a speech, in which I acknowledged that I had never seen the likeof their wisdom; I was their devoted servant, and fell to praising andadmiring of them. What marvellous dexterity of wit, I said, enabled youto acquire this great perfection in such a short time? There is much, indeed, to admire in your words, Euthydemus and Dionysodorus, but thereis nothing that I admire more than your magnanimous disregard ofany opinion--whether of the many, or of the grave and reverendseigniors--you regard only those who are like yourselves. And I doverily believe that there are few who are like you, and who wouldapprove of such arguments; the majority of mankind are so ignorant oftheir value, that they would be more ashamed of employing them in therefutation of others than of being refuted by them. I must furtherexpress my approval of your kind and public-spirited denial of alldifferences, whether of good and evil, white or black, or any other;the result of which is that, as you say, every mouth is sewn up, notexcepting your own, which graciously follows the example of others; andthus all ground of offence is taken away. But what appears to me tobe more than all is, that this art and invention of yours has been soadmirably contrived by you, that in a very short time it can be impartedto any one. I observed that Ctesippus learned to imitate you in no time. Now this quickness of attainment is an excellent thing; but at the sametime I would advise you not to have any more public entertainments;there is a danger that men may undervalue an art which they have so easyan opportunity of acquiring; the exhibition would be best of all, ifthe discussion were confined to your two selves; but if there must bean audience, let him only be present who is willing to pay a handsomefee;--you should be careful of this;--and if you are wise, you will alsobid your disciples discourse with no man but you and themselves. Foronly what is rare is valuable; and 'water, ' which, as Pindar says, isthe 'best of all things, ' is also the cheapest. And now I have only torequest that you will receive Cleinias and me among your pupils. 

Such was the discussion, Crito; and after a few more words had passedbetween us we went away. I hope that you will come to them with me, since they say that they are able to teach any one who will give themmoney; no age or want of capacity is an impediment. And I must repeatone thing which they said, for your especial benefit, --that the learningof their art did not at all interfere with the business of money-making. 

CRITO: Truly, Socrates, though I am curious and ready to learn, yet Ifear that I am not like-minded with Euthydemus, but one of the othersort, who, as you were saying, would rather be refuted by sucharguments than use them in refutation of others. And though I may appearridiculous in venturing to advise you, I think that you may as well hearwhat was said to me by a man of very considerable pretensions--he was aprofessor of legal oratory--who came away from you while I was walkingup and down. 'Crito, ' said he to me, 'are you giving no attention tothese wise men?' 'No, indeed, ' I said to him; 'I could not get withinhearing of them--there was such a crowd. ' 'You would have heardsomething worth hearing if you had. ' 'What was that?' I said. 'You wouldhave heard the greatest masters of the art of rhetoric discoursing. ''And what did you think of them?' I said. 'What did I think of them?' hesaid:--'theirs was the sort of discourse which anybody might hear frommen who were playing the fool, and making much ado about nothing. ' Thatwas the expression which he used. 'Surely, ' I said, 'philosophy is acharming thing. ' 'Charming!' he said; 'what simplicity! philosophy isnought; and I think that if you had been present you would have beenashamed of your friend--his conduct was so very strange in placinghimself at the mercy of men who care not what they say, and fasten uponevery word. And these, as I was telling you, are supposed to be themost eminent professors of their time. But the truth is, Crito, that thestudy itself and the men themselves are utterly mean and ridiculous. 'Now censure of the pursuit, Socrates, whether coming from him or fromothers, appears to me to be undeserved; but as to the impropriety ofholding a public discussion with such men, there, I confess that, in myopinion, he was in the right. 

SOCRATES: O Crito, they are marvellous men; but what was I going to say?First of all let me know;--What manner of man was he who came up to youand censured philosophy; was he an orator who himself practises in thecourts, or an instructor of orators, who makes the speeches with whichthey do battle?

CRITO: He was certainly not an orator, and I doubt whether he had everbeen into court; but they say that he knows the business, and is aclever man, and composes wonderful speeches. 

SOCRATES: Now I understand, Crito; he is one of an amphibious class, whom I was on the point of mentioning--one of those whom Prodicusdescribes as on the border-ground between philosophers andstatesmen--they think that they are the wisest of all men, and thatthey are generally esteemed the wisest; nothing but the rivalry of thephilosophers stands in their way; and they are of the opinion that ifthey can prove the philosophers to be good for nothing, no one willdispute their title to the palm of wisdom, for that they are themselvesreally the wisest, although they are apt to be mauled by Euthydemus andhis friends, when they get hold of them in conversation. This opinionwhich they entertain of their own wisdom is very natural; for theyhave a certain amount of philosophy, and a certain amount of politicalwisdom; there is reason in what they say, for they argue that they havejust enough of both, and so they keep out of the way of all risks andconflicts and reap the fruits of their wisdom. 

CRITO: What do you say of them, Socrates? There is certainly somethingspecious in that notion of theirs. 

SOCRATES: Yes, Crito, there is more speciousness than truth; they cannotbe made to understand the nature of intermediates. For all persons orthings, which are intermediate between two other things, and participatein both of them--if one of these two things is good and the other evil, are better than the one and worse than the other; but if they are ina mean between two good things which do not tend to the same end, theyfall short of either of their component elements in the attainment oftheir ends. Only in the case when the two component elements which donot tend to the same end are evil is the participant better than either. Now, if philosophy and political action are both good, but tend todifferent ends, and they participate in both, and are in a mean betweenthem, then they are talking nonsense, for they are worse than either;or, if the one be good and the other evil, they are better than the oneand worse than the other; only on the supposition that they are bothevil could there be any truth in what they say. I do not think that theywill admit that their two pursuits are either wholly or partly evil; butthe truth is, that these philosopher-politicians who aim at both fallshort of both in the attainment of their respective ends, and arereally third, although they would like to stand first. There is no need, however, to be angry at this ambition of theirs--which may be forgiven;for every man ought to be loved who says and manfully pursues and worksout anything which is at all like wisdom: at the same time we shall dowell to see them as they really are. 

CRITO: I have often told you, Socrates, that I am in a constantdifficulty about my two sons. What am I to do with them? There isno hurry about the younger one, who is only a child; but the other, Critobulus, is getting on, and needs some one who will improve him. I cannot help thinking, when I hear you talk, that there is a sortof madness in many of our anxieties about our children:--in the firstplace, about marrying a wife of good family to be the mother of them, and then about heaping up money for them--and yet taking no care abouttheir education. But then again, when I contemplate any of those whopretend to educate others, I am amazed. To me, if I am to confess thetruth, they all seem to be such outrageous beings: so that I do not knowhow I can advise the youth to study philosophy. 

SOCRATES: Dear Crito, do you not know that in every profession theinferior sort are numerous and good for nothing, and the good are fewand beyond all price: for example, are not gymnastic and rhetoric andmoney-making and the art of the general, noble arts?

CRITO: Certainly they are, in my judgment. 

SOCRATES: Well, and do you not see that in each of these arts the manyare ridiculous performers?

CRITO: Yes, indeed, that is very true. 

SOCRATES: And will you on this account shun all these pursuits yourselfand refuse to allow them to your son?

CRITO: That would not be reasonable, Socrates. 

SOCRATES: Do you then be reasonable, Crito, and do not mind whether theteachers of philosophy are good or bad, but think only of philosophyherself. Try and examine her well and truly, and if she be evil seek toturn away all men from her, and not your sons only; but if she be what Ibelieve that she is, then follow her and serve her, you and your house, as the saying is, and be of good cheer.