The dialogues of Plato in five volumes, Vol. 2 · Plato
EUDICUS, SOCRATES, HIPPIAS.
_Eud._ I am sure that Hippias will be delighted to answer anything which you would like to ask; tell me, Hippias, if Socrates asks you a question, will you answer him? _Hippias._ Indeed, Eudicus, I should be strangely inconsistent if I refused to answer Socrates, when at each Olympic festival, as I went up from my house at Elis to the temple of Olympia, where all the Hellenes were assembled, I continually professed my willingness to perform any of the exhibitions which I had prepared, and to answer any questions which any one had to ask. [Sidenote: _Achilles and Odysseus._] _Soc._ Truly, Hippias, you are to be congratulated, if at 364 every Olympic festival you have such an encouraging opinion of your own wisdom when you go up to the temple. I doubt whether any muscular hero would be so fearless and confident in offering his body to the combat at Olympia, as you are in offering your mind. _Hip._ And with good reason, Socrates; for since the day when I first entered the lists at Olympia I have never found any man who was my superior in anything[53].
_Soc._ What an ornament, Hippias, will the reputation of your wisdom be to the city of Elis and to your parents! But to return: what say you of Odysseus and Achilles? Which is the better of the two? and in what particular does either surpass the other? For when you were exhibiting and there was company in the room, though I could not follow you, I did not like to ask what you meant, because a crowd of people were present, and I was afraid that the question might interrupt your exhibition. But now that there are not so many of us, and my friend Eudicus bids me ask, I wish you would tell me what you were saying about these two heroes, so that I may clearly understand; how did you distinguish them? [Sidenote: Achilles the bravest, Nestor the wisest, and Odysseus the wiliest of the Greeks at Troy.] _Hip._ I shall have much pleasure, Socrates, in explaining to you more clearly than I could in public my views about these and also about other heroes. I say that Homer intended Achilles to be the bravest of the men who went to Troy, Nestor the wisest, and Odysseus the wiliest. _Soc._ O rare Hippias, will you be so good as not to laugh, if I find a difficulty in following you, and repeat my questions several times over? Please to answer me kindly and gently.
_Hip._ I should be greatly ashamed of myself, Socrates, if I, who teach others and take money of them, could not, when I was asked by you, answer in a civil and agreeable manner. [Sidenote: _The courtesy of Hippias._] _Soc._ Thank you: the fact is, that I seemed to understand what you meant when you said that the poet intended Achilles to be the bravest of men, and also that he intended Nestor to be the wisest; but when you said that he meant Odysseus to be the wiliest, I must confess that I could not understand what you were saying. Will you tell me, and then I shall perhaps understand you better; has not Homer made Achilles wily? _Hip._ Certainly not, Socrates; he is the most straight-forward of mankind, and when Homer introduces them talking with one another in the passage called the Prayers, Achilles is supposed by the poet to say to Odysseus:— ‘Son of Laertes, sprung from heaven, crafty Odysseus, I will 365 speak out plainly the word which I intend to carry out in act, and which will, I believe, be accomplished. For I hate him like the gates of death who thinks one thing and says another. But I will speak that which shall be accomplished.’ Now, in these verses he clearly indicates the character of the two men; he shows Achilles to be true and simple, and Odysseus to be wily and false; for he supposes Achilles to be addressing Odysseus in these lines.
_Soc._ Then, according to you, they are both powerful and wily, are they not? _Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ And are they wily, and do they deceive by reason of their simplicity and folly, or by reason of their cunning and a certain sort of prudence? _Hip._ By reason of their cunning and prudence, most certainly. _Soc._ Then they are prudent, I suppose? _Hip._ So they are—very. _Soc._ And if they are prudent, do they know or do they not know what they do? _Hip._ Of course, they know very well; and that is why they do mischief to others. _Soc._ And having this knowledge, are they ignorant, or are they wise? _Hip._ Wise, certainly; at least, in so far as they can deceive. _Soc._ Stop, and let us recall to mind what you are saying; 366 are you not saying that the false are powerful and prudent and knowing and wise in those things about which they are false? _Hip._ To be sure. _Soc._ And the true differ from the false—the true and the false are the very opposite of each other? _Hip._ That is my view. _Soc._ Then, according to your view, it would seem that the false are to be ranked in the class of the powerful and wise? _Hip._ Assuredly. _Soc._ And when you say that the false are powerful and wise in so far as they are false, do you mean that they have or have not the power of uttering their falsehoods if they like?
_Hip._ I mean to say that they have the power. _Soc._ In a word, then, the false are they who are wise and have the power to speak falsely? _Hip._ Yes. [Sidenote: _True and False._] _Soc._ Then a man who has not the power of speaking falsely and is ignorant cannot be false? _Hip._ You are right. _Soc._ And every man has power who does that which he wishes at the time when he wishes. I am not speaking of any special case in which he is prevented by disease or something of that sort, but I am speaking generally, as I might say of you, that you are able to write my name when you like. Would you not call a man able who could do that? _Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ And tell me, Hippias, are you not a skilful calculator and arithmetician? _Hip._ Yes, Socrates, assuredly I am. _Soc._ And if some one were to ask you what is the sum of 3 multiplied by 700, you would tell him the true answer in a moment, if you pleased? _Hip._ Certainly I should. _Soc._ Is not that because you are the wisest and ablest of men in these matters? _Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ And being as you are the wisest and ablest of men in these matters of calculation, are you not also the best?
_Hip._ To be sure, Socrates, I am the best. _Soc._ And therefore you would be the most able to tell the truth about these matters, would you not? _Hip._ Yes, I should. [Sidenote: They must truly know that about which they falsely speak or they will fall into the error of speaking the truth by mistake.] _Soc._ And could you speak falsehoods about them equally well? I must beg, Hippias, that you will answer me with the same frankness and magnanimity which has hitherto characterized you. If a person were to ask you what is the sum of 3 multiplied by 700, would not you be the best and most consistent teller of a falsehood, having always the power of speaking falsely as you have of speaking truly, about these same matters, if you wanted to tell a falsehood, and not to answer truly? Would the ignorant man be 367 better able to tell a falsehood in matters of calculation than you would be, if you chose? Might he not sometimes stumble upon the truth, when he wanted to tell a lie, because he did not know, whereas you who are the wise man, if you wanted to tell a lie would always and consistently lie? [Sidenote: _True is false and false is true._] _Hip._ Yes; there you are quite right.
_Soc._ Does the false man tell lies about other things, but not about number, or when he is making a calculation? _Hip._ To be sure; he would tell as many lies about number as about other things. _Soc._ Then may we further assume, Hippias, that there are men who are false about calculation and number? _Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ Who can they be? For you have already admitted that he who is false must have the ability to be false: you said, as you will remember, that he who is unable to be false will not be false? _Hip._ Yes, I remember; it was so said. _Soc._ And were you not yourself just now shown to be best able to speak falsely about calculation? _Hip._ Yes; that was another thing which was said. _Soc._ And are you not likewise said to speak truly about calculation? _Hip._ Certainly. _Soc._ Then the same person is able to speak both falsely and truly about calculation? And that person is he who is good at calculation—the arithmetician? _Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ Who, then, Hippias, is discovered to be false at calculation? Is he not the good man? For the good man is the able man, and he is the true man. _Hip._ That is evident. [Sidenote: Therefore the same man must be true if he is to be truly false, in astronomy, in geometry, and in all the sciences.]
_Soc._ Do you not see, then, that the same man is false and also true about the same matters? And the true man is not a whit better than the false; for indeed he is the same with him and not the very opposite, as you were just now imagining. _Hip._ Not in that instance, clearly. _Soc._ Shall we examine other instances? _Hip._ Certainly, if you are disposed. _Soc._ Are you not also skilled in geometry? _Hip._ I am. _Soc._ Well, and does not the same hold in that science also? Is not the same person best able to speak falsely or to sneak truly about diagrams; and he is—the geometrician? [Sidenote: _The admirable versatility of Hippias._] _Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ He and no one else is good at it? _Hip._ Yes, he and no one else. _Soc._ Then the good and wise geometer has this double power in the highest degree; and if there be a man who is false about diagrams the good man will be he, for he is able to be false; whereas the bad is unable, and for this reason is not false, as has been admitted. _Hip._ True. _Soc._ Once more—let us examine a third case; that of the astronomer, in whose art, again, you, Hippias, profess to be a still greater proficient than in the preceding—do you not?
_Hip._ Yes, I am. 368 _Soc._ And does not the same hold of astronomy? _Hip._ True, Socrates. _Soc._ And in astronomy, too, if any man be able to speak falsely he will be the good astronomer, but he who is not able will not speak falsely, for he has no knowledge. _Hip._ Clearly not. _Soc._ Then in astronomy also, the same man will be true and false? _Hip._ It would seem so. [Sidenote: _Socrates is always weaving the meshes of an argument._] [Sidenote: Socrates compliments Hippias on his skill in engraving gems, in making clothes and shoes and the finest fabrics, in writing poetry and prose of the most varied kind, and on the art of memory which he has invented.] _Soc._ And now, Hippias, consider the question at large about all the sciences, and see whether the same principle does not always hold. I know that in most arts you are the wisest of men, as I have heard you boasting in the agora at the tables of the money-changers, when you were setting forth the great and enviable stores of your wisdom; and you said that upon one occasion, when you went to the Olympic games, all that you had on your person was made by yourself.
You began with your ring, which was of your own workmanship, and you said that you could engrave rings; and you had another seal which was also of your own workmanship, and a strigil and an oil flask, which you had made yourself; you said also that you had made the shoes which you had on your feet, and the cloak and the short tunic; but what appeared to us all most extraordinary and a proof of singular art, was the girdle of your tunic, which, you said, was as fine as the most costly Persian fabric, and of your own weaving; moreover, you told us that you had brought with you poems, epic, tragic, and dithyrambic, as well as prose writings of the most various kinds; and you said that your skill was also pre-eminent in the arts which I was just now mentioning, and in the true principles of rhythm and harmony and of orthography; and if I remember rightly, there were a great many other accomplishments in which you excelled. I have forgotten to mention your art of memory, which you regard as your special glory, and I dare say that I have forgotten many other things; but, as I was saying, only look to your own arts—and there are plenty of them—and to those of others; and tell me, having regard to the admissions which you and I have made, whether you discover any department of art or any description of wisdom or cunning, whichever name you use, in which the true and false are different and not the same: tell me, if you can, of any. But 369 you cannot.
_Hip._ Not without consideration, Socrates. _Soc._ Nor will consideration help you, Hippias, as I believe; but then if I am right, remember what the consequence will be. [Sidenote: Yet he who knows and remembers all things can call to mind no instance in which the false is not also true, although he was saying just now that Achilles is true and Odysseus false.] _Hip._ I do not know what you mean, Socrates. _Soc._ I suppose that you are not using your art of memory, doubtless because you think that such an accomplishment is not needed on the present occasion. I will therefore remind you of what you were saying: were you not saying that Achilles was a true man, and Odysseus false and wily? _Hip._ I was. _Soc._ And now do you perceive that the same person has turned out to be false as well as true? If Odysseus is false he is also true, and if Achilles is true he is also false, and so the two men are not opposed to one another, but they are alike. [Sidenote: _The perverted ingenuity of Socrates._] _Hip._ O Socrates, you are always weaving the meshes of an argument, selecting the most difficult point, and fastening upon details instead of grappling with the matter in hand as a whole. Come now, and I will demonstrate to you, if you will allow me, by many satisfactory proofs, that Homer has made Achilles a better man than Odysseus, and a truthful man too; and that he has made the other crafty, and a teller of many untruths, and inferior to Achilles. And then, if you please, you shall make a speech on the other side, in order to prove that Odysseus is the better man; and this may be compared to mine, and then the company will know which of us is the better speaker.
‘He is hateful to me even as the gates of death who thinks one thing and says another:’— And then he says, a little while afterwards, he will not be persuaded by Odysseus and Agamemnon, neither will he remain at Troy; but, says he,— ‘To-morrow, when I have offered sacrifices to Zeus and all the Gods, having loaded my ships well, I will drag them down into the deep; and then you shall see, if you have a mind, and if such things are a care to you, early in the morning my ships sailing over the fishy Hellespont, and my men eagerly plying the oar; and, if the illustrious shaker of the earth gives me a good voyage, on the third day I shall reach the fertile Phthia.’ And before that, when he was reviling Agamemnon, he said,— ‘And now to Phthia I will go, since to return home in the beaked ships is far better, nor am I inclined to stay here in dishonour and amass wealth and riches for you.’ But although on that occasion, in the presence of the whole army, he spoke after this fashion, and on the other occasion to his companions, he appears never to have made any preparation or attempt to draw down the ships, as if he had the least intention of sailing home; so nobly regardless was he of the truth. Now I, Hippias, originally asked you the question, because I was in doubt as to which of the two heroes was intended by the poet to be the best, and because I thought that both of them were the best, and that it would be difficult to decide which was the better of them, not only in respect of truth and falsehood, but of virtue generally, for even in this matter of speaking the truth they are much upon a par.
Now, do you really think, Hippias, that the son of Thetis, who had been the pupil of the sage Cheiron, had such a bad memory, or would have carried the art of lying to such an extent (when he had been assailing liars in the most violent terms only the instant before) as to say to Odysseus that he would sail away, and to Ajax that he would remain, and that he was not rather practising upon the simplicity of Odysseus, whom he regarded as an ancient, and thinking that he would get the better of him by his own cunning and falsehood? [Sidenote: _to err voluntarily._] _Hip._ No, I do not agree with you, Socrates; but I believe that Achilles is induced to say one thing to Ajax, and another to Odysseus in the innocence of his heart, whereas Odysseus, whether he speaks falsely or truly, speaks always with a purpose. [Sidenote: That proves Odysseus to be better than Achilles.] _Soc._ Then Odysseus would appear after all to be better than Achilles? _Hip._ Certainly not, Socrates. _Soc._ Why, were not the voluntary liars only just now shown to be better than the involuntary? _Hip._ And how, Socrates, can those who intentionally err, and voluntarily and designedly commit iniquities, be better than those who err and do wrong involuntarily? Surely 372 there is a great excuse to be made for a man telling a falsehood, or doing an injury or any sort of harm to another in ignorance. And the laws are obviously far more severe on those who lie or do evil, voluntarily, than on those who do evil involuntarily.
Well, I know that this is my own fault, and is a defect in my character, but I will not pretend to be more than I am; and my opinion, Hippias, is the very contrary of what you are saying. For I maintain that those who hurt or injure mankind, and speak falsely and deceive, and err voluntarily, are better far than those who do wrong involuntarily. Sometimes, however, I am of the opposite opinion; for I am all abroad in my ideas about this matter, a condition obviously occasioned by ignorance. And just now I happen to be in a crisis of my disorder at which those who err voluntarily appear to me better than those who err involuntarily. My present state of mind is due to our previous argument, which inclines me to believe that in general those who do wrong involuntarily are worse than those who do wrong voluntarily, and therefore I hope that you will be good to me, and not refuse to heal me; for you will do me a much greater benefit if you cure my soul of ignorance, than you would if you were to cure my body of disease. I must, however, tell you beforehand, that if you 373 make a long oration to me you will not cure me, for I shall not be able to follow you; but if you will answer me, as you did just now, you will do me a great deal of good, and I do not think that you will be any the worse yourself. And I have some claim upon you also, O son of Apemantus, for you incited me to converse with Hippias; and now, if Hippias will not answer me, you must entreat him on my behalf.
_Eud._ But I do not think, Socrates, that Hippias will require any entreaty of mine; for he has already said that he will refuse to answer no man.—Did you not say so, Hippias? _Hip._ Yes, I did; but then, Eudicus, Socrates is always troublesome in an argument, and appears to be dishonest[54]. _Soc._ Excellent Hippias, I do not do so intentionally (if I did, it would show me to be a wise man and a master of wiles, as you would argue), but unintentionally, and therefore you must pardon me; for, as you say, he who is unintentionally dishonest should be pardoned. [Sidenote: _The analogy of bodily exercises._] _Eud._ Yes, Hippias, do as he says; and for our sake, and also that you may not belie your profession, answer whatever Socrates asks you. _Hip._ I will answer, as you request me; and do you ask whatever you like. [Sidenote: Socrates by citation of instances not ‘in pari materia’ proves that it is better to do evil intentionally: e. g. in running, in wrestling, in the action of the body, in singing, in the use of the feet, eyes, ears, of instruments.] _Soc._ I am very desirous, Hippias, of examining this question, as to which are the better—those who err voluntarily or involuntarily? And if you will answer me, I think that I can put you in the way of approaching the subject: You would admit, would you not, that there are good runners?
_Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ And there are bad runners? _Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ And he who runs well is a good runner, and he who runs ill is a bad runner? _Hip._ Very true. _Soc._ And he who runs slowly runs ill, and he who runs quickly runs well? _Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ Then in a race, and in running, swiftness is a good, and slowness is an evil quality? _Hip._ To be sure. _Soc._ Which of the two then is a better runner? He who runs slowly voluntarily, or he who runs slowly involuntarily? _Hip._ He who runs slowly voluntarily. _Soc._ And is not running a species of doing? _Hip._ Certainly. _Soc._ And if a species of doing, a species of action? _Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ Then he who runs badly does a bad and dishonourable action in a race? _Hip._ Yes; a bad action, certainly. _Soc._ And he who runs slowly runs badly? _Hip._ Yes. _Soc._ Then the good runner does this bad and disgraceful action voluntarily, and the bad involuntarily? _Hip._ That is to be inferred. _Soc._ Then he who involuntarily does evil actions, is worse in a race than he who does them voluntarily? _Hip._ Yes, in a race. [Sidenote: _The analogy of the human faculties,_] _Soc._ Well; but at a wrestling match—which is the better 374 wrestler, he who falls voluntarily or involuntarily?
_Hip._ He who falls voluntarily, doubtless. _Soc._ And is it worse or more dishonourable at a wrestling match, to fall, or to throw another? _Hip._ To fall. _Soc._ Then, at a wrestling match, he who voluntarily does base and dishonourable actions is a better wrestler than he who does them involuntarily? _Hip._ That appears to be the truth. _Soc._ And what would you say of any other bodily exercise—is not he who is better made able to do both that which is strong and that which is weak—that which is fair and that which is foul?—so that when he does bad actions with the body, he who is better made does them voluntarily, and he who is worse made does them involuntarily. _Hip._ Yes, that appears to be true about strength. _Soc._ And what do you say about grace, Hippias? Is not he who is better made able to assume evil and disgraceful figures and postures voluntarily, as he who is worse made assumes them involuntarily? _Hip._ True. _Soc._ Then voluntary ungracefulness comes from excellence of the bodily frame, and involuntary from the defect of the bodily frame? _Hip._ True. _Soc._ And what would you say of an unmusical voice; would you prefer the voice which is voluntarily or involuntarily out of tune? _Hip._ That which is voluntarily out of tune.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.