LACHES
by PLATO
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
INTRODUCTION.
Lysimachus, the son of Aristides the Just, and Melesias,
the son of the elder Thucydides, two aged men who live
together, are desirous of educating their sons in the best
manner. Their own education, as often happens with the sons
of great men, has been neglected; and they are resolved
that their children shall have more care taken of them,
than they received themselves at the hands of their
fathers.
At their request, Nicias and Laches have accompanied them
to see a man named Stesilaus fighting in heavy armour. The
two fathers ask the two generals what they think of this
exhibition, and whether they would advise that their sons
should acquire the accomplishment. Nicias and Laches are
quite willing to give their opinion; but they suggest that
Socrates should be invited to take part in the
consultation. He is a stranger to Lysimachus, but is
afterwards recognised as the son of his old friend
Sophroniscus, with whom he never had a difference to the
hour of his death. Socrates is also known to Nicias, to
whom he had introduced the excellent Damon, musician and
sophist, as a tutor for his son, and to Laches, who had
witnessed his heroic behaviour at the battle of Delium
(compare Symp.).
Socrates, as he is younger than either Nicias or Laches,
prefers to wait until they have delivered their opinions,
which they give in a characteristic manner. Nicias, the
tactician, is very much in favour of the new art, which he
describes as the gymnastics of war—useful when the ranks
are formed, and still more useful when they are broken;
creating a general interest in military studies, and
greatly adding to the appearance of the soldier in the
field. Laches, the blunt warrior, is of opinion that such
an art is not knowledge, and cannot be of any value,
because the Lacedaemonians, those great masters of arms,
neglect it. His own experience in actual service has taught
him that these pretenders are useless and ridiculous. This
man Stesilaus has been seen by him on board ship making a
very sorry exhibition of himself. The possession of the art
will make the coward rash, and subject the courageous, if
he chance to make a slip, to invidious remarks. And now let
Socrates be taken into counsel. As they differ he must
decide.
Socrates would rather not decide the question by a
plurality of votes: in such a serious matter as the
education of a friend’s children, he would consult the one
skilled person who has had masters, and has works to show
as evidences of his skill. This is not himself; for he has
never been able to pay the sophists for instructing him,
and has never had the wit to do or discover anything. But
Nicias and Laches are older and richer than he is: they
have had teachers, and perhaps have made discoveries; and
he would have trusted them entirely, if they had not been
diametrically opposed. Lysimachus here proposes to resign
the argument into the hands of the younger part of the
company, as he is old, and has a bad memory. He earnestly
requests Socrates to remain;--in this showing, as Nicias
says, how little he knows the man, who will certainly not
go away until he has cross-examined the company about their
past lives. Nicias has often submitted to this process; and
Laches is quite willing to learn from Socrates, because his
actions, in the true Dorian mode, correspond to his words.
Socrates proceeds: We might ask who are our teachers? But a
better and more thorough way of examining the question will
be to ask, ‘What is Virtue?’—or rather, to restrict the
enquiry to that part of virtue which is concerned with the
use of weapons—‘What is Courage?’ Laches thinks that he
knows this: (1) ‘He is courageous who remains at his post.’
But some nations fight flying, after the manner of Aeneas
in Homer; or as the heavy-armed Spartans also did at the
battle of Plataea. (2) Socrates wants a more general
definition, not only of military courage, but of courage of
all sorts, tried both amid pleasures and pains. Laches
replies that this universal courage is endurance. But
courage is a good thing, and mere endurance may be hurtful
and injurious. Therefore (3) the element of intelligence
must be added. But then again unintelligent endurance may
often be more courageous than the intelligent, the bad than
the good. How is this contradiction to be solved? Socrates
and Laches are not set ‘to the Dorian mode’ of words and
actions; for their words are all confusion, although their
actions are courageous. Still they must ‘endure’ in an
argument about endurance. Laches is very willing, and is
quite sure that he knows what courage is, if he could only
tell.
Nicias is now appealed to; and in reply he offers a
definition which he has heard from Socrates himself, to the
effect that (1) ‘Courage is intelligence.’ Laches derides
this; and Socrates enquires, ‘What sort of intelligence?’
to which Nicias replies, ‘Intelligence of things terrible.’
‘But every man knows the things to be dreaded in his own
art.’ ‘No they do not. They may predict results, but cannot
tell whether they are really terrible; only the courageous
man can tell that.’ Laches draws the inference that the
courageous man is either a soothsayer or a god.
Again, (2) in Nicias’ way of speaking, the term
‘courageous’ must be denied to animals or children, because
they do not know the danger. Against this inversion of the
ordinary use of language Laches reclaims, but is in some
degree mollified by a compliment to his own courage. Still,
he does not like to see an Athenian statesman and general
descending to sophistries of this sort. Socrates resumes
the argument. Courage has been defined to be intelligence
or knowledge of the terrible; and courage is not all
virtue, but only one of the virtues. The terrible is in the
future, and therefore the knowledge of the terrible is a
knowledge of the future. But there can be no knowledge of
future good or evil separated from a knowledge of the good
and evil of the past or present; that is to say, of all
good and evil. Courage, therefore, is the knowledge of good
and evil generally. But he who has the knowledge of good
and evil generally, must not only have courage, but also
temperance, justice, and every other virtue. Thus, a single
virtue would be the same as all virtues (compare
Protagoras). And after all the two generals, and Socrates,
the hero of Delium, are still in ignorance of the nature of
courage. They must go to school again, boys, old men and
all.
Some points of resemblance, and some points of difference,
appear in the Laches when compared with the Charmides and
Lysis. There is less of poetical and simple beauty, and
more of dramatic interest and power. They are richer in the
externals of the scene; the Laches has more play and
development of character. In the Lysis and Charmides the
youths are the central figures, and frequent allusions are
made to the place of meeting, which is a palaestra. Here
the place of meeting, which is also a palaestra, is quite
forgotten, and the boys play a subordinate part. The seance
is of old and elder men, of whom Socrates is the youngest.
First is the aged Lysimachus, who may be compared with
Cephalus in the Republic, and, like him, withdraws from the
argument. Melesias, who is only his shadow, also subsides
into silence. Both of them, by their own confession, have
been ill-educated, as is further shown by the circumstance
that Lysimachus, the friend of Sophroniscus, has never
heard of the fame of Socrates, his son; they belong to
different circles. In the Meno their want of education in
all but the arts of riding and wrestling is adduced as a
proof that virtue cannot be taught. The recognition of
Socrates by Lysimachus is extremely graceful; and his
military exploits naturally connect him with the two
generals, of whom one has witnessed them. The characters of
Nicias and Laches are indicated by their opinions on the
exhibition of the man fighting in heavy armour. The more
enlightened Nicias is quite ready to accept the new art,
which Laches treats with ridicule, seeming to think that
this, or any other military question, may be settled by
asking, ‘What do the Lacedaemonians say?’ The one is the
thoughtful general, willing to avail himself of any
discovery in the art of war (Aristoph. Aves); the other is
the practical man, who relies on his own experience, and is
the enemy of innovation; he can act but cannot speak, and
is apt to lose his temper. It is to be noted that one of
them is supposed to be a hearer of Socrates; the other is
only acquainted with his actions. Laches is the admirer of
the Dorian mode; and into his mouth the remark is put that
there are some persons who, having never been taught, are
better than those who have. Like a novice in the art of
disputation, he is delighted with the hits of Socrates; and
is disposed to be angry with the refinements of Nicias.
In the discussion of the main thesis of the Dialogue—‘What
is Courage?’ the antagonism of the two characters is still
more clearly brought out; and in this, as in the
preliminary question, the truth is parted between them.
Gradually, and not without difficulty, Laches is made to
pass on from the more popular to the more philosophical; it
has never occurred to him that there was any other courage
than that of the soldier; and only by an effort of the mind
can he frame a general notion at all. No sooner has this
general notion been formed than it evanesces before the
dialectic of Socrates; and Nicias appears from the other
side with the Socratic doctrine, that courage is knowledge.
This is explained to mean knowledge of things terrible in
the future. But Socrates denies that the knowledge of the
future is separable from that of the past and present; in
other words, true knowledge is not that of the soothsayer
but of the philosopher. And all knowledge will thus be
equivalent to all virtue—a position which elsewhere
Socrates is not unwilling to admit, but which will not
assist us in distinguishing the nature of courage. In this
part of the Dialogue the contrast between the mode of
cross-examination which is practised by Laches and by
Socrates, and also the manner in which the definition of
Laches is made to approximate to that of Nicias, are worthy
of attention.
Thus, with some intimation of the connexion and unity of
virtue and knowledge, we arrive at no distinct result. The
two aspects of courage are never harmonized. The knowledge
which in the Protagoras is explained as the faculty of
estimating pleasures and pains is here lost in an unmeaning
and transcendental conception. Yet several true intimations
of the nature of courage are allowed to appear: (1) That
courage is moral as well as physical: (2) That true courage
is inseparable from knowledge, and yet (3) is based on a
natural instinct. Laches exhibits one aspect of courage;
Nicias the other. The perfect image and harmony of both is
only realized in Socrates himself. The Dialogue offers one
among many examples of the freedom with which Plato treats
facts. For the scene must be supposed to have occurred
between B.C. 424, the year of the battle of Delium, and
B.C. 418, the year of the battle of Mantinea, at which
Laches fell. But if Socrates was more than seventy years of
age at his trial in 399 (see Apology), he could not have
been a young man at any time after the battle of Delium.
LACHES,
OR COURAGE
by
Plato
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Lysimachus, son of Aristides.
Melesias, son of Thucydides.
Their sons.
Nicias, Laches, Socrates.
LYSIMACHUS: You have seen the exhibition of the man
fighting in armour, Nicias and Laches, but we did not tell
you at the time the reason why my friend Melesias and I
asked you to go with us and see him. I think that we may as
well confess what this was, for we certainly ought not to
have any reserve with you. The reason was, that we were
intending to ask your advice. Some laugh at the very notion
of advising others, and when they are asked will not say
what they think. They guess at the wishes of the person who
asks them, and answer according to his, and not according
to their own, opinion. But as we know that you are good
judges, and will say exactly what you think, we have taken
you into our counsels. The matter about which I am making
all this preface is as follows: Melesias and I have two
sons; that is his son, and he is named Thucydides, after
his grandfather; and this is mine, who is also called after
his grandfather, Aristides. Now, we are resolved to take
the greatest care of the youths, and not to let them run
about as they like, which is too often the way with the
young, when they are no longer children, but to begin at
once and do the utmost that we can for them. And knowing
you to have sons of your own, we thought that you were most
likely to have attended to their training and improvement,
and, if perchance you have not attended to them, we may
remind you that you ought to have done so, and would invite
you to assist us in the fulfilment of a common duty. I will
tell you, Nicias and Laches, even at the risk of being
tedious, how we came to think of this. Melesias and I live
together, and our sons live with us; and now, as I was
saying at first, we are going to confess to you. Both of us
often talk to the lads about the many noble deeds which our
own fathers did in war and peace—in the management of the
allies, and in the administration of the city; but neither
of us has any deeds of his own which he can show. The truth
is that we are ashamed of this contrast being seen by them,
and we blame our fathers for letting us be spoiled in the
days of our youth, while they were occupied with the
concerns of others; and we urge all this upon the lads,
pointing out to them that they will not grow up to honour
if they are rebellious and take no pains about themselves;
but that if they take pains they may, perhaps, become
worthy of the names which they bear. They, on their part,
promise to comply with our wishes; and our care is to
discover what studies or pursuits are likely to be most
improving to them. Some one commended to us the art of
fighting in armour, which he thought an excellent
accomplishment for a young man to learn; and he praised the
man whose exhibition you have seen, and told us to go and
see him. And we determined that we would go, and get you to
accompany us; and we were intending at the same time, if
you did not object, to take counsel with you about the
education of our sons. That is the matter which we wanted
to talk over with you; and we hope that you will give us
your opinion about this art of fighting in armour, and
about any other studies or pursuits which may or may not be
desirable for a young man to learn. Please to say whether
you agree to our proposal.
NICIAS: As far as I am concerned, Lysimachus and Melesias,
I applaud your purpose, and will gladly assist you; and I
believe that you, Laches, will be equally glad.
LACHES: Certainly, Nicias; and I quite approve of the
remark which Lysimachus made about his own father and the
father of Melesias, and which is applicable, not only to
them, but to us, and to every one who is occupied with
public affairs. As he says, such persons are too apt to be
negligent and careless of their own children and their
private concerns. There is much truth in that remark of
yours, Lysimachus. But why, instead of consulting us, do
you not consult our friend Socrates about the education of
the youths? He is of the same deme with you, and is always
passing his time in places where the youth have any noble
study or pursuit, such as you are enquiring after.
LYSIMACHUS: Why, Laches, has Socrates ever attended to
matters of this sort?
LACHES: Certainly, Lysimachus.
NICIAS: That I have the means of knowing as well as Laches;
for quite lately he supplied me with a teacher of music for
my sons,--Damon, the disciple of Agathocles, who is a most
accomplished man in every way, as well as a musician, and a
companion of inestimable value for young men at their age.
LYSIMACHUS: Those who have reached my time of life,
Socrates and Nicias and Laches, fall out of acquaintance
with the young, because they are generally detained at home
by old age; but you, O son of Sophroniscus, should let your
fellow demesman have the benefit of any advice which you
are able to give. Moreover I have a claim upon you as an
old friend of your father; for I and he were always
companions and friends, and to the hour of his death there
never was a difference between us; and now it comes back to
me, at the mention of your name, that I have heard these
lads talking to one another at home, and often speaking of
Socrates in terms of the highest praise; but I have never
thought to ask them whether the son of Sophroniscus was the
person whom they meant. Tell me, my boys, whether this is
the Socrates of whom you have often spoken? SON: Certainly,
father, this is he.
LYSIMACHUS: I am delighted to hear, Socrates, that you
maintain the name of your father, who was a most excellent
man; and I further rejoice at the prospect of our family
ties being renewed.
LACHES: Indeed, Lysimachus, you ought not to give him up;
for I can assure you that I have seen him maintaining, not
only his father’s, but also his country’s name. He was my
companion in the retreat from Delium, and I can tell you
that if others had only been like him, the honour of our
country would have been upheld, and the great defeat would
never have occurred.
LYSIMACHUS: That is very high praise which is accorded to
you, Socrates, by faithful witnesses and for actions like
those which they praise. Let me tell you the pleasure which
I feel in hearing of your fame; and I hope that you will
regard me as one of your warmest friends. You ought to have
visited us long ago, and made yourself at home with us; but
now, from this day forward, as we have at last found one
another out, do as I say—come and make acquaintance with
me, and with these young men, that I may continue your
friend, as I was your father’s. I shall expect you to do
so, and shall venture at some future time to remind you of
your duty. But what say you of the matter of which we were
beginning to speak—the art of fighting in armour? Is that a
practice in which the lads may be advantageously
instructed?
SOCRATES: I will endeavour to advise you, Lysimachus, as
far as I can in this matter, and also in every way will
comply with your wishes; but as I am younger and not so
experienced, I think that I ought certainly to hear first
what my elders have to say, and to learn of them, and if I
have anything to add, then I may venture to give my opinion
to them as well as to you. Suppose, Nicias, that one or
other of you begin.
NICIAS: I have no objection, Socrates; and my opinion is
that the acquirement of this art is in many ways useful to
young men. It is an advantage to them that among the
favourite amusements of their leisure hours they should
have one which tends to improve and not to injure their
bodily health. No gymnastics could be better or harder
exercise; and this, and the art of riding, are of all arts
most befitting to a freeman; for they only who are thus
trained in the use of arms are the athletes of our military
profession, trained in that on which the conflict turns.
Moreover in actual battle, when you have to fight in a line
with a number of others, such an acquirement will be of
some use, and will be of the greatest whenever the ranks
are broken and you have to fight singly, either in pursuit,
when you are attacking some one who is defending himself,
or in flight, when you have to defend yourself against an
assailant. Certainly he who possessed the art could not
meet with any harm at the hands of a single person, or
perhaps of several; and in any case he would have a great
advantage. Further, this sort of skill inclines a man to
the love of other noble lessons; for every man who has
learned how to fight in armour will desire to learn the
proper arrangement of an army, which is the sequel of the
lesson: and when he has learned this, and his ambition is
once fired, he will go on to learn the complete art of the
general. There is no difficulty in seeing that the
knowledge and practice of other military arts will be
honourable and valuable to a man; and this lesson may be
the beginning of them. Let me add a further advantage,
which is by no means a slight one,--that this science will
make any man a great deal more valiant and self-possessed
in the field. And I will not disdain to mention, what by
some may be thought to be a small matter;--he will make a
better appearance at the right time; that is to say, at the
time when his appearance will strike terror into his
enemies. My opinion then, Lysimachus, is, as I say, that
the youths should be instructed in this art, and for the
reasons which I have given. But Laches may take a different
view; and I shall be very glad to hear what he has to say.
LACHES: I should not like to maintain, Nicias, that any
kind of knowledge is not to be learned; for all knowledge
appears to be a good: and if, as Nicias and as the teachers
of the art affirm, this use of arms is really a species of
knowledge, then it ought to be learned; but if not, and if
those who profess to teach it are deceivers only; or if it
be knowledge, but not of a valuable sort, then what is the
use of learning it? I say this, because I think that if it
had been really valuable, the Lacedaemonians, whose whole
life is passed in finding out and practising the arts which
give them an advantage over other nations in war, would
have discovered this one. And even if they had not, still
these professors of the art would certainly not have failed
to discover that of all the Hellenes the Lacedaemonians
have the greatest interest in such matters, and that a
master of the art who was honoured among them would be sure
to make his fortune among other nations, just as a tragic
poet would who is honoured among ourselves; which is the
reason why he who fancies that he can write a tragedy does
not go about itinerating in the neighbouring states, but
rushes hither straight, and exhibits at Athens; and this is
natural. Whereas I perceive that these fighters in armour
regard Lacedaemon as a sacred inviolable territory, which
they do not touch with the point of their foot; but they
make a circuit of the neighbouring states, and would rather
exhibit to any others than to the Spartans; and
particularly to those who would themselves acknowledge that
they are by no means firstrate in the arts of war. Further,
Lysimachus, I have encountered a good many of these
gentlemen in actual service, and have taken their measure,
which I can give you at once; for none of these masters of
fence have ever been distinguished in war,--there has been
a sort of fatality about them; while in all other arts the
men of note have been always those who have practised the
art, they appear to be a most unfortunate exception. For
example, this very Stesilaus, whom you and I have just
witnessed exhibiting in all that crowd and making such
great professions of his powers, I have seen at another
time making, in sober truth, an involuntary exhibition of
himself, which was a far better spectacle. He was a marine
on board a ship which struck a transport vessel, and was
armed with a weapon, half spear, half scythe; the
singularity of this weapon was worthy of the singularity of
the man. To make a long story short, I will only tell you
what happened to this notable invention of the scythe
spear. He was fighting, and the scythe was caught in the
rigging of the other ship, and stuck fast; and he tugged,
but was unable to get his weapon free. The two ships were
passing one another. He first ran along his own ship
holding on to the spear; but as the other ship passed by
and drew him after as he was holding on, he let the spear
slip through his hand until he retained only the end of the
handle. The people in the transport clapped their hands,
and laughed at his ridiculous figure; and when some one
threw a stone, which fell on the deck at his feet, and he
quitted his hold of the scythe-spear, the crew of his own
trireme also burst out laughing; they could not refrain
when they beheld the weapon waving in the air, suspended
from the transport. Now I do not deny that there may be
something in such an art, as Nicias asserts, but I tell you
my experience; and, as I said at first, whether this be an
art of which the advantage is so slight, or not an art at
all, but only an imposition, in either case such an
acquirement is not worth having. For my opinion is, that if
the professor of this art be a coward, he will be likely to
become rash, and his character will be only more notorious;
or if he be brave, and fail ever so little, other men will
be on the watch, and he will be greatly traduced; for there
is a jealousy of such pretenders; and unless a man be
pre-eminent in valour, he cannot help being ridiculous, if
he says that he has this sort of skill. Such is my
judgment, Lysimachus, of the desirableness of this art;
but, as I said at first, ask Socrates, and do not let him
go until he has given you his opinion of the matter.
LYSIMACHUS: I am going to ask this favour of you, Socrates;
as is the more necessary because the two councillors
disagree, and some one is in a manner still needed who will
decide between them. Had they agreed, no arbiter would have
been required. But as Laches has voted one way and Nicias
another, I should like to hear with which of our two
friends you agree.
SOCRATES: What, Lysimachus, are you going to accept the
opinion of the majority?
LYSIMACHUS: Why, yes, Socrates; what else am I to do?
SOCRATES: And would you do so too, Melesias? If you were
deliberating about the gymnastic training of your son,
would you follow the advice of the majority of us, or the
opinion of the one who had been trained and exercised under
a skilful master? MELESIAS: The latter, Socrates; as would
surely be reasonable.
SOCRATES: His one vote would be worth more than the vote of
all us four? MELESIAS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And for this reason, as I imagine,--because a
good decision is based on knowledge and not on numbers?
MELESIAS: To be sure.
SOCRATES: Must we not then first of all ask, whether there
is any one of us who has knowledge of that about which we
are deliberating? If there is, let us take his advice,
though he be one only, and not mind the rest; if there is
not, let us seek further counsel. Is this a slight matter
about which you and Lysimachus are deliberating? Are you
not risking the greatest of your possessions? For children
are your riches; and upon their turning out well or ill
depends the whole order of their father’s house. MELESIAS:
That is true.
SOCRATES: Great care, then, is required in this matter?
MELESIAS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Suppose, as I was just now saying, that we were
considering, or wanting to consider, who was the best
trainer. Should we not select him who knew and had
practised the art, and had the best teachers? MELESIAS: I
think that we should.
SOCRATES: But would there not arise a prior question about
the nature of the art of which we want to find the masters?
MELESIAS: I do not understand.
SOCRATES: Let me try to make my meaning plainer then. I do
not think that we have as yet decided what that is about
which we are consulting, when we ask which of us is or is
not skilled in the art, and has or has not had a teacher of
the art.
NICIAS: Why, Socrates, is not the question whether young
men ought or ought not to learn the art of fighting in
armour?
SOCRATES: Yes, Nicias; but there is also a prior question,
which I may illustrate in this way: When a person considers
about applying a medicine to the eyes, would you say that
he is consulting about the medicine or about the eyes?
NICIAS: About the eyes.
SOCRATES: And when he considers whether he shall set a
bridle on a horse and at what time, he is thinking of the
horse and not of the bridle?
NICIAS: True.
SOCRATES: And in a word, when he considers anything for the
sake of another thing, he thinks of the end and not of the
means?
NICIAS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And when you call in an adviser, you should see
whether he too is skilful in the accomplishment of the end
which you have in view?
NICIAS: Most true.
SOCRATES: And at present we have in view some knowledge, of
which the end is the soul of youth?
NICIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And we are enquiring, Which of us is skilful or
successful in the treatment of the soul, and which of us
has had good teachers?
LACHES: Well but, Socrates; did you never observe that some
persons, who have had no teachers, are more skilful than
those who have, in some things?
SOCRATES: Yes, Laches, I have observed that; but you would
not be very willing to trust them if they only professed to
be masters of their art, unless they could show some proof
of their skill or excellence in one or more works.
LACHES: That is true.
SOCRATES: And therefore, Laches and Nicias, as Lysimachus
and Melesias, in their anxiety to improve the minds of
their sons, have asked our advice about them, we too should
tell them who our teachers were, if we say that we have had
any, and prove them to be in the first place men of merit
and experienced trainers of the minds of youth and also to
have been really our teachers. Or if any of us says that he
has no teacher, but that he has works of his own to show;
then he should point out to them what Athenians or
strangers, bond or free, he is generally acknowledged to
have improved. But if he can show neither teachers nor
works, then he should tell them to look out for others; and
not run the risk of spoiling the children of friends, and
thereby incurring the most formidable accusation which can
be brought against any one by those nearest to him. As for
myself, Lysimachus and Melesias, I am the first to confess
that I have never had a teacher of the art of virtue;
although I have always from my earliest youth desired to
have one. But I am too poor to give money to the Sophists,
who are the only professors of moral improvement; and to
this day I have never been able to discover the art myself,
though I should not be surprised if Nicias or Laches may
have discovered or learned it; for they are far wealthier
than I am, and may therefore have learnt of others. And
they are older too; so that they have had more time to make
the discovery. And I really believe that they are able to
educate a man; for unless they had been confident in their
own knowledge, they would never have spoken thus decidedly
of the pursuits which are advantageous or hurtful to a
young man. I repose confidence in both of them; but I am
surprised to find that they differ from one another. And
therefore, Lysimachus, as Laches suggested that you should
detain me, and not let me go until I answered, I in turn
earnestly beseech and advise you to detain Laches and
Nicias, and question them. I would have you say to them:
Socrates avers that he has no knowledge of the matter—he is
unable to decide which of you speaks truly; neither
discoverer nor student is he of anything of the kind. But
you, Laches and Nicias, should each of you tell us who is
the most skilful educator whom you have ever known; and
whether you invented the art yourselves, or learned of
another; and if you learned, who were your respective
teachers, and who were their brothers in the art; and then,
if you are too much occupied in politics to teach us
yourselves, let us go to them, and present them with gifts,
or make interest with them, or both, in the hope that they
may be induced to take charge of our children and of yours;
and then they will not grow up inferior, and disgrace their
ancestors. But if you are yourselves original discoverers
in that field, give us some proof of your skill. Who are
they who, having been inferior persons, have become under
your care good and noble? For if this is your first attempt
at education, there is a danger that you may be trying the
experiment, not on the ‘vile corpus’ of a Carian slave, but
on your own sons, or the sons of your friend, and, as the
proverb says, ‘break the large vessel in learning to make
pots.’ Tell us then, what qualities you claim or do not
claim. Make them tell you that, Lysimachus, and do not let
them off.
LYSIMACHUS: I very much approve of the words of Socrates,
my friends; but you, Nicias and Laches, must determine
whether you will be questioned, and give an explanation
about matters of this sort. Assuredly, I and Melesias would
be greatly pleased to hear you answer the questions which
Socrates asks, if you will: for I began by saying that we
took you into our counsels because we thought that you
would have attended to the subject, especially as you have
children who, like our own, are nearly of an age to be
educated. Well, then, if you have no objection, suppose
that you take Socrates into partnership; and do you and he
ask and answer one another’s questions: for, as he has well
said, we are deliberating about the most important of our
concerns. I hope that you will see fit to comply with our
request.
NICIAS: I see very clearly, Lysimachus, that you have only
known Socrates’ father, and have no acquaintance with
Socrates himself: at least, you can only have known him
when he was a child, and may have met him among his
fellow-wardsmen, in company with his father, at a
sacrifice, or at some other gathering. You clearly show
that you have never known him since he arrived at manhood.
LYSIMACHUS: Why do you say that, Nicias?
NICIAS: Because you seem not to be aware that any one who
has an intellectual affinity to Socrates and enters into
conversation with him is liable to be drawn into an
argument; and whatever subject he may start, he will be
continually carried round and round by him, until at last
he finds that he has to give an account both of his present
and past life; and when he is once entangled, Socrates will
not let him go until he has completely and thoroughly
sifted him. Now I am used to his ways; and I know that he
will certainly do as I say, and also that I myself shall be
the sufferer; for I am fond of his conversation,
Lysimachus. And I think that there is no harm in being
reminded of any wrong thing which we are, or have been,
doing: he who does not fly from reproof will be sure to
take more heed of his after-life; as Solon says, he will
wish and desire to be learning so long as he lives, and
will not think that old age of itself brings wisdom. To me,
to be cross-examined by Socrates is neither unusual nor
unpleasant; indeed, I knew all along that where Socrates
was, the argument would soon pass from our sons to
ourselves; and therefore, I say that for my part, I am
quite willing to discourse with Socrates in his own manner;
but you had better ask our friend Laches what his feeling
may be.
LACHES: I have but one feeling, Nicias, or (shall I say?)
two feelings, about discussions. Some would think that I am
a lover, and to others I may seem to be a hater of
discourse; for when I hear a man discoursing of virtue, or
of any sort of wisdom, who is a true man and worthy of his
theme, I am delighted beyond measure: and I compare the man
and his words, and note the harmony and correspondence of
them. And such an one I deem to be the true musician,
attuned to a fairer harmony than that of the lyre, or any
pleasant instrument of music; for truly he has in his own
life a harmony of words and deeds arranged, not in the
Ionian, or in the Phrygian mode, nor yet in the Lydian, but
in the true Hellenic mode, which is the Dorian, and no
other. Such an one makes me merry with the sound of his
voice; and when I hear him I am thought to be a lover of
discourse; so eager am I in drinking in his words. But a
man whose actions do not agree with his words is an
annoyance to me; and the better he speaks the more I hate
him, and then I seem to be a hater of discourse. As to
Socrates, I have no knowledge of his words, but of old, as
would seem, I have had experience of his deeds; and his
deeds show that free and noble sentiments are natural to
him. And if his words accord, then I am of one mind with
him, and shall be delighted to be interrogated by a man
such as he is, and shall not be annoyed at having to learn
of him: for I too agree with Solon, ‘that I would fain grow
old, learning many things.’ But I must be allowed to add
‘of the good only.’ Socrates must be willing to allow that
he is a good teacher, or I shall be a dull and uncongenial
pupil: but that the teacher is younger, or not as yet in
repute—anything of that sort is of no account with me. And
therefore, Socrates, I give you notice that you may teach
and confute me as much as ever you like, and also learn of
me anything which I know. So high is the opinion which I
have entertained of you ever since the day on which you
were my companion in danger, and gave a proof of your
valour such as only the man of merit can give. Therefore,
say whatever you like, and do not mind about the difference
of our ages.
SOCRATES: I cannot say that either of you show any
reluctance to take counsel and advise with me.
LYSIMACHUS: But this is our proper business; and yours as
well as ours, for I reckon you as one of us. Please then to
take my place, and find out from Nicias and Laches what we
want to know, for the sake of the youths, and talk and
consult with them: for I am old, and my memory is bad; and
I do not remember the questions which I am going to ask, or
the answers to them; and if there is any interruption I am
quite lost. I will therefore beg of you to carry on the
proposed discussion by your selves; and I will listen, and
Melesias and I will act upon your conclusions.
SOCRATES: Let us, Nicias and Laches, comply with the
request of Lysimachus and Melesias. There will be no harm
in asking ourselves the question which was first proposed
to us: ‘Who have been our own instructors in this sort of
training, and whom have we made better?’ But the other mode
of carrying on the enquiry will bring us equally to the
same point, and will be more like proceeding from first
principles. For if we knew that the addition of something
would improve some other thing, and were able to make the
addition, then, clearly, we must know how that about which
we are advising may be best and most easily attained.
Perhaps you do not understand what I mean. Then let me make
my meaning plainer in this way. Suppose we knew that the
addition of sight makes better the eyes which possess this
gift, and also were able to impart sight to the eyes, then,
clearly, we should know the nature of sight, and should be
able to advise how this gift of sight may be best and most
easily attained; but if we knew neither what sight is, nor
what hearing is, we should not be very good medical
advisers about the eyes or the ears, or about the best mode
of giving sight and hearing to them.
LACHES: That is true, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And are not our two friends, Laches, at this very
moment inviting us to consider in what way the gift of
virtue may be imparted to their sons for the improvement of
their minds?
LACHES: Very true.
SOCRATES: Then must we not first know the nature of virtue?
For how can we advise any one about the best mode of
attaining something of which we are wholly ignorant?
LACHES: I do not think that we can, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Then, Laches, we may presume that we know the
nature of virtue?
LACHES: Yes.
SOCRATES: And that which we know we must surely be able to
tell?
LACHES: Certainly.
SOCRATES: I would not have us begin, my friend, with
enquiring about the whole of virtue; for that may be more
than we can accomplish; let us first consider whether we
have a sufficient knowledge of a part; the enquiry will
thus probably be made easier to us.
LACHES: Let us do as you say, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Then which of the parts of virtue shall we
select? Must we not select that to which the art of
fighting in armour is supposed to conduce? And is not that
generally thought to be courage?
LACHES: Yes, certainly.
SOCRATES: Then, Laches, suppose that we first set about
determining the nature of courage, and in the second place
proceed to enquire how the young men may attain this
quality by the help of studies and pursuits. Tell me, if
you can, what is courage.
LACHES: Indeed, Socrates, I see no difficulty in answering;
he is a man of courage who does not run away, but remains
at his post and fights against the enemy; there can be no
mistake about that.
SOCRATES: Very good, Laches; and yet I fear that I did not
express myself clearly; and therefore you have answered not
the question which I intended to ask, but another.
LACHES: What do you mean, Socrates?
SOCRATES: I will endeavour to explain; you would call a man
courageous who remains at his post, and fights with the
enemy?
LACHES: Certainly I should.
SOCRATES: And so should I; but what would you say of
another man, who fights flying, instead of remaining?
LACHES: How flying?
SOCRATES: Why, as the Scythians are said to fight, flying
as well as pursuing; and as Homer says in praise of the
horses of Aeneas, that they knew ‘how to pursue, and fly
quickly hither and thither’; and he passes an encomium on
Aeneas himself, as having a knowledge of fear or flight,
and calls him ‘an author of fear or flight.’
LACHES: Yes, Socrates, and there Homer is right: for he was
speaking of chariots, as you were speaking of the Scythian
cavalry, who have that way of fighting; but the heavy-armed
Greek fights, as I say, remaining in his rank.
SOCRATES: And yet, Laches, you must except the
Lacedaemonians at Plataea, who, when they came upon the
light shields of the Persians, are said not to have been
willing to stand and fight, and to have fled; but when the
ranks of the Persians were broken, they turned upon them
like cavalry, and won the battle of Plataea.
LACHES: That is true.
SOCRATES: That was my meaning when I said that I was to
blame in having put my question badly, and that this was
the reason of your answering badly. For I meant to ask you
not only about the courage of heavy-armed soldiers, but
about the courage of cavalry and every other style of
soldier; and not only who are courageous in war, but who
are courageous in perils by sea, and who in disease, or in
poverty, or again in politics, are courageous; and not only
who are courageous against pain or fear, but mighty to
contend against desires and pleasures, either fixed in
their rank or turning upon their enemy. There is this sort
of courage—is there not, Laches?
LACHES: Certainly, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And all these are courageous, but some have
courage in pleasures, and some in pains: some in desires,
and some in fears, and some are cowards under the same
conditions, as I should imagine.
LACHES: Very true.
SOCRATES: Now I was asking about courage and cowardice in
general. And I will begin with courage, and once more ask,
What is that common quality, which is the same in all these
cases, and which is called courage? Do you now understand
what I mean?
LACHES: Not over well.
SOCRATES: I mean this: As I might ask what is that quality
which is called quickness, and which is found in running,
in playing the lyre, in speaking, in learning, and in many
other similar actions, or rather which we possess in nearly
every action that is worth mentioning of arms, legs, mouth,
voice, mind;--would you not apply the term quickness to all
of them?
LACHES: Quite true.
SOCRATES: And suppose I were to be asked by some one: What
is that common quality, Socrates, which, in all these uses
of the word, you call quickness? I should say the quality
which accomplishes much in a little time—whether in
running, speaking, or in any other sort of action.
LACHES: You would be quite correct.
SOCRATES: And now, Laches, do you try and tell me in like
manner, What is that common quality which is called
courage, and which includes all the various uses of the
term when applied both to pleasure and pain, and in all the
cases to which I was just now referring?
LACHES: I should say that courage is a sort of endurance of
the soul, if I am to speak of the universal nature which
pervades them all.
SOCRATES: But that is what we must do if we are to answer
the question. And yet I cannot say that every kind of
endurance is, in my opinion, to be deemed courage. Hear my
reason: I am sure, Laches, that you would consider courage
to be a very noble quality.
LACHES: Most noble, certainly.
SOCRATES: And you would say that a wise endurance is also
good and noble?
LACHES: Very noble.
SOCRATES: But what would you say of a foolish endurance? Is
not that, on the other hand, to be regarded as evil and
hurtful?
LACHES: True.
SOCRATES: And is anything noble which is evil and hurtful?
LACHES: I ought not to say that, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Then you would not admit that sort of endurance
to be courage— for it is not noble, but courage is noble?
LACHES: You are right.
SOCRATES: Then, according to you, only the wise endurance
is courage?
LACHES: True.
SOCRATES: But as to the epithet ‘wise,’—wise in what? In
all things small as well as great? For example, if a man
shows the quality of endurance in spending his money
wisely, knowing that by spending he will acquire more in
the end, do you call him courageous?
LACHES: Assuredly not.
SOCRATES: Or, for example, if a man is a physician, and his
son, or some patient of his, has inflammation of the lungs,
and begs that he may be allowed to eat or drink something,
and the other is firm and refuses; is that courage?
LACHES: No; that is not courage at all, any more than the
last.
SOCRATES: Again, take the case of one who endures in war,
and is willing to fight, and wisely calculates and knows
that others will help him, and that there will be fewer and
inferior men against him than there are with him; and
suppose that he has also advantages of position; would you
say of such a one who endures with all this wisdom and
preparation, that he, or some man in the opposing army who
is in the opposite circumstances to these and yet endures
and remains at his post, is the braver?
LACHES: I should say that the latter, Socrates, was the
braver.
SOCRATES: But, surely, this is a foolish endurance in
comparison with the other?
LACHES: That is true.
SOCRATES: Then you would say that he who in an engagement
of cavalry endures, having the knowledge of horsemanship,
is not so courageous as he who endures, having no such
knowledge?
LACHES: So I should say.
SOCRATES: And he who endures, having a knowledge of the use
of the sling, or the bow, or of any other art, is not so
courageous as he who endures, not having such a knowledge?
LACHES: True.
SOCRATES: And he who descends into a well, and dives, and
holds out in this or any similar action, having no
knowledge of diving, or the like, is, as you would say,
more courageous than those who have this knowledge?
LACHES: Why, Socrates, what else can a man say?
SOCRATES: Nothing, if that be what he thinks.
LACHES: But that is what I do think.
SOCRATES: And yet men who thus run risks and endure are
foolish, Laches, in comparison of those who do the same
things, having the skill to do them.
LACHES: That is true.
SOCRATES: But foolish boldness and endurance appeared
before to be base and hurtful to us.
LACHES: Quite true.
SOCRATES: Whereas courage was acknowledged to be a noble
quality.
LACHES: True.
SOCRATES: And now on the contrary we are saying that the
foolish endurance, which was before held in dishonour, is
courage.
LACHES: Very true.
SOCRATES: And are we right in saying so?
LACHES: Indeed, Socrates, I am sure that we are not right.
SOCRATES: Then according to your statement, you and I,
Laches, are not attuned to the Dorian mode, which is a
harmony of words and deeds; for our deeds are not in
accordance with our words. Any one would say that we had
courage who saw us in action, but not, I imagine, he who
heard us talking about courage just now.
LACHES: That is most true.
SOCRATES: And is this condition of ours satisfactory?
LACHES: Quite the reverse.
SOCRATES: Suppose, however, that we admit the principle of
which we are speaking to a certain extent.
LACHES: To what extent and what principle do you mean?
SOCRATES: The principle of endurance. We too must endure
and persevere in the enquiry, and then courage will not
laugh at our faint-heartedness in searching for courage;
which after all may, very likely, be endurance.
LACHES: I am ready to go on, Socrates; and yet I am unused
to investigations of this sort. But the spirit of
controversy has been aroused in me by what has been said;
and I am really grieved at being thus unable to express my
meaning. For I fancy that I do know the nature of courage;
but, somehow or other, she has slipped away from me, and I
cannot get hold of her and tell her nature.
SOCRATES: But, my dear friend, should not the good
sportsman follow the track, and not be lazy?
LACHES: Certainly, he should.
SOCRATES: And shall we invite Nicias to join us? he may be
better at the sport than we are. What do you say?
LACHES: I should like that.
SOCRATES: Come then, Nicias, and do what you can to help
your friends, who are tossing on the waves of argument, and
at the last gasp: you see our extremity, and may save us
and also settle your own opinion, if you will tell us what
you think about courage.
NICIAS: I have been thinking, Socrates, that you and Laches
are not defining courage in the right way; for you have
forgotten an excellent saying which I have heard from your
own lips.
SOCRATES: What is it, Nicias?
NICIAS: I have often heard you say that ‘Every man is good
in that in which he is wise, and bad in that in which he is
unwise.’
SOCRATES: That is certainly true, Nicias.
NICIAS: And therefore if the brave man is good, he is also
wise.
SOCRATES: Do you hear him, Laches?
LACHES: Yes, I hear him, but I do not very well understand
him.
SOCRATES: I think that I understand him; and he appears to
me to mean that courage is a sort of wisdom.
LACHES: What can he possibly mean, Socrates?
SOCRATES: That is a question which you must ask of himself.
LACHES: Yes.
SOCRATES: Tell him then, Nicias, what you mean by this
wisdom; for you surely do not mean the wisdom which plays
the flute?
NICIAS: Certainly not.
SOCRATES: Nor the wisdom which plays the lyre?
NICIAS: No.
SOCRATES: But what is this knowledge then, and of what?
LACHES: I think that you put the question to him very well,
Socrates; and I would like him to say what is the nature of
this knowledge or wisdom.
NICIAS: I mean to say, Laches, that courage is the
knowledge of that which inspires fear or confidence in war,
or in anything.
LACHES: How strangely he is talking, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Why do you say so, Laches?
LACHES: Why, surely courage is one thing, and wisdom
another.
SOCRATES: That is just what Nicias denies.
LACHES: Yes, that is what he denies; but he is so silly.
SOCRATES: Suppose that we instruct instead of abusing him?
NICIAS: Laches does not want to instruct me, Socrates; but
having been proved to be talking nonsense himself, he wants
to prove that I have been doing the same.
LACHES: Very true, Nicias; and you are talking nonsense, as
I shall endeavour to show. Let me ask you a question: Do
not physicians know the dangers of disease? or do the
courageous know them? or are the physicians the same as the
courageous?
NICIAS: Not at all.
LACHES: No more than the husbandmen who know the dangers of
husbandry, or than other craftsmen, who have a knowledge of
that which inspires them with fear or confidence in their
own arts, and yet they are not courageous a whit the more
for that.
SOCRATES: What is Laches saying, Nicias? He appears to be
saying something of importance.
NICIAS: Yes, he is saying something, but it is not true.
SOCRATES: How so?
NICIAS: Why, because he does not see that the physician’s
knowledge only extends to the nature of health and disease:
he can tell the sick man no more than this. Do you imagine,
Laches, that the physician knows whether health or disease
is the more terrible to a man? Had not many a man better
never get up from a sick bed? I should like to know whether
you think that life is always better than death. May not
death often be the better of the two?
LACHES: Yes certainly so in my opinion.
NICIAS: And do you think that the same things are terrible
to those who had better die, and to those who had better
live?
LACHES: Certainly not.
NICIAS: And do you suppose that the physician or any other
artist knows this, or any one indeed, except he who is
skilled in the grounds of fear and hope? And him I call the
courageous.
SOCRATES: Do you understand his meaning, Laches?
LACHES: Yes; I suppose that, in his way of speaking, the
soothsayers are courageous. For who but one of them can
know to whom to die or to live is better? And yet Nicias,
would you allow that you are yourself a soothsayer, or are
you neither a soothsayer nor courageous?
NICIAS: What! do you mean to say that the soothsayer ought
to know the grounds of hope or fear?
LACHES: Indeed I do: who but he?
NICIAS: Much rather I should say he of whom I speak; for
the soothsayer ought to know only the signs of things that
are about to come to pass, whether death or disease, or
loss of property, or victory, or defeat in war, or in any
sort of contest; but to whom the suffering or not suffering
of these things will be for the best, can no more be
decided by the soothsayer than by one who is no soothsayer.
LACHES: I cannot understand what Nicias would be at,
Socrates; for he represents the courageous man as neither a
soothsayer, nor a physician, nor in any other character,
unless he means to say that he is a god. My opinion is that
he does not like honestly to confess that he is talking
nonsense, but that he shuffles up and down in order to
conceal the difficulty into which he has got himself. You
and I, Socrates, might have practised a similar shuffle
just now, if we had only wanted to avoid the appearance of
inconsistency. And if we had been arguing in a court of law
there might have been reason in so doing; but why should a
man deck himself out with vain words at a meeting of
friends such as this?
SOCRATES: I quite agree with you, Laches, that he should
not. But perhaps Nicias is serious, and not merely talking
for the sake of talking. Let us ask him just to explain
what he means, and if he has reason on his side we will
agree with him; if not, we will instruct him.
LACHES: Do you, Socrates, if you like, ask him: I think
that I have asked enough.
SOCRATES: I do not see why I should not; and my question
will do for both of us.
LACHES: Very good.
SOCRATES: Then tell me, Nicias, or rather tell us, for
Laches and I are partners in the argument: Do you mean to
affirm that courage is the knowledge of the grounds of hope
and fear?
NICIAS: I do.
SOCRATES: And not every man has this knowledge; the
physician and the soothsayer have it not; and they will not
be courageous unless they acquire it—that is what you were
saying?
NICIAS: I was.
SOCRATES: Then this is certainly not a thing which every
pig would know, as the proverb says, and therefore he could
not be courageous.
NICIAS: I think not.
SOCRATES: Clearly not, Nicias; not even such a big pig as
the Crommyonian sow would be called by you courageous. And
this I say not as a joke, but because I think that he who
assents to your doctrine, that courage is the knowledge of
the grounds of fear and hope, cannot allow that any wild
beast is courageous, unless he admits that a lion, or a
leopard, or perhaps a boar, or any other animal, has such a
degree of wisdom that he knows things which but a few human
beings ever know by reason of their difficulty. He who
takes your view of courage must affirm that a lion, and a
stag, and a bull, and a monkey, have equally little
pretensions to courage.
LACHES: Capital, Socrates; by the gods, that is truly good.
And I hope, Nicias, that you will tell us whether these
animals, which we all admit to be courageous, are really
wiser than mankind; or whether you will have the boldness,
in the face of universal opinion, to deny their courage.
NICIAS: Why, Laches, I do not call animals or any other
things which have no fear of dangers, because they are
ignorant of them, courageous, but only fearless and
senseless. Do you imagine that I should call little
children courageous, which fear no dangers because they
know none? There is a difference, to my way of thinking,
between fearlessness and courage. I am of opinion that
thoughtful courage is a quality possessed by very few, but
that rashness and boldness, and fearlessness, which has no
forethought, are very common qualities possessed by many
men, many women, many children, many animals. And you, and
men in general, call by the term ‘courageous’ actions which
I call rash;--my courageous actions are wise actions.
LACHES: Behold, Socrates, how admirably, as he thinks, he
dresses himself out in words, while seeking to deprive of
the honour of courage those whom all the world acknowledges
to be courageous.
NICIAS: Not so, Laches, but do not be alarmed; for I am
quite willing to say of you and also of Lamachus, and of
many other Athenians, that you are courageous and therefore
wise.
LACHES: I could answer that; but I would not have you cast
in my teeth that I am a haughty Aexonian.
SOCRATES: Do not answer him, Laches; I rather fancy that
you are not aware of the source from which his wisdom is
derived. He has got all this from my friend Damon, and
Damon is always with Prodicus, who, of all the Sophists, is
considered to be the best puller to pieces of words of this
sort.
LACHES: Yes, Socrates; and the examination of such niceties
is a much more suitable employment for a Sophist than for a
great statesman whom the city chooses to preside over her.
SOCRATES: Yes, my sweet friend, but a great statesman is
likely to have a great intelligence. And I think that the
view which is implied in Nicias’ definition of courage is
worthy of examination.
LACHES: Then examine for yourself, Socrates.
SOCRATES: That is what I am going to do, my dear friend. Do
not, however, suppose I shall let you out of the
partnership; for I shall expect you to apply your mind, and
join with me in the consideration of the question.
LACHES: I will if you think that I ought.
SOCRATES: Yes, I do; but I must beg of you, Nicias, to
begin again. You remember that we originally considered
courage to be a part of virtue.
NICIAS: Very true.
SOCRATES: And you yourself said that it was a part; and
there were many other parts, all of which taken together
are called virtue.
NICIAS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Do you agree with me about the parts? For I say
that justice, temperance, and the like, are all of them
parts of virtue as well as courage. Would you not say the
same?
NICIAS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: Well then, so far we are agreed. And now let us
proceed a step, and try to arrive at a similar agreement
about the fearful and the hopeful: I do not want you to be
thinking one thing and myself another. Let me then tell you
my own opinion, and if I am wrong you shall set me right:
in my opinion the terrible and the hopeful are the things
which do or do not create fear, and fear is not of the
present, nor of the past, but is of future and expected
evil. Do you not agree to that, Laches?
LACHES: Yes, Socrates, entirely.
SOCRATES: That is my view, Nicias; the terrible things, as
I should say, are the evils which are future; and the
hopeful are the good or not evil things which are future.
Do you or do you not agree with me?
NICIAS: I agree.
SOCRATES: And the knowledge of these things you call
courage?
NICIAS: Precisely.
SOCRATES: And now let me see whether you agree with Laches
and myself as to a third point.
NICIAS: What is that?
SOCRATES: I will tell you. He and I have a notion that
there is not one knowledge or science of the past, another
of the present, a third of what is likely to be best and
what will be best in the future; but that of all three
there is one science only: for example, there is one
science of medicine which is concerned with the inspection
of health equally in all times, present, past, and future;
and one science of husbandry in like manner, which is
concerned with the productions of the earth in all times.
As to the art of the general, you yourselves will be my
witnesses that he has an excellent foreknowledge of the
future, and that he claims to be the master and not the
servant of the soothsayer, because he knows better what is
happening or is likely to happen in war: and accordingly
the law places the soothsayer under the general, and not
the general under the soothsayer. Am I not correct in
saying so, Laches?
LACHES: Quite correct.
SOCRATES: And do you, Nicias, also acknowledge that the
same science has understanding of the same things, whether
future, present, or past?
NICIAS: Yes, indeed Socrates; that is my opinion.
SOCRATES: And courage, my friend, is, as you say, a
knowledge of the fearful and of the hopeful?
NICIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And the fearful, and the hopeful, are admitted to
be future goods and future evils?
NICIAS: True.
SOCRATES: And the same science has to do with the same
things in the future or at any time?
NICIAS: That is true.
SOCRATES: Then courage is not the science which is
concerned with the fearful and hopeful, for they are future
only; courage, like the other sciences, is concerned not
only with good and evil of the future, but of the present
and past, and of any time?
NICIAS: That, as I suppose, is true.
SOCRATES: Then the answer which you have given, Nicias,
includes only a third part of courage; but our question
extended to the whole nature of courage: and according to
your view, that is, according to your present view, courage
is not only the knowledge of the hopeful and the fearful,
but seems to include nearly every good and evil without
reference to time. What do you say to that alteration in
your statement?
NICIAS: I agree, Socrates.
SOCRATES: But then, my dear friend, if a man knew all good
and evil, and how they are, and have been, and will be
produced, would he not be perfect, and wanting in no
virtue, whether justice, or temperance, or holiness? He
would possess them all, and he would know which were
dangers and which were not, and guard against them whether
they were supernatural or natural; and he would provide the
good, as he would know how to deal both with gods or men.
NICIAS: I think, Socrates, that there is a great deal of
truth in what you say.
SOCRATES: But then, Nicias, courage, according to this new
definition of yours, instead of being a part of virtue
only, will be all virtue?
NICIAS: It would seem so.
SOCRATES: But we were saying that courage is one of the
parts of virtue?
NICIAS: Yes, that was what we were saying.
SOCRATES: And that is in contradiction with our present
view?
NICIAS: That appears to be the case.
SOCRATES: Then, Nicias, we have not discovered what courage
is.
NICIAS: We have not.
LACHES: And yet, friend Nicias, I imagined that you would
have made the discovery, when you were so contemptuous of
the answers which I made to Socrates. I had very great
hopes that you would have been enlightened by the wisdom of
Damon.
NICIAS: I perceive, Laches, that you think nothing of
having displayed your ignorance of the nature of courage,
but you look only to see whether I have not made a similar
display; and if we are both equally ignorant of the things
which a man who is good for anything should know, that, I
suppose, will be of no consequence. You certainly appear to
me very like the rest of the world, looking at your
neighbour and not at yourself. I am of opinion that enough
has been said on the subject which we have been discussing;
and if anything has been imperfectly said, that may be
hereafter corrected by the help of Damon, whom you think to
laugh down, although you have never seen him, and with the
help of others. And when I am satisfied myself, I will
freely impart my satisfaction to you, for I think that you
are very much in want of knowledge.
LACHES: You are a philosopher, Nicias; of that I am aware:
nevertheless I would recommend Lysimachus and Melesias not
to take you and me as advisers about the education of their
children; but, as I said at first, they should ask Socrates
and not let him off; if my own sons were old enough, I
would have asked him myself.
NICIAS: To that I quite agree, if Socrates is willing to
take them under his charge. I should not wish for any one
else to be the tutor of Niceratus. But I observe that when
I mention the matter to him he recommends to me some other
tutor and refuses himself. Perhaps he may be more ready to
listen to you, Lysimachus. LYSIMACHUS: He ought, Nicias:
for certainly I would do things for him which I would not
do for many others. What do you say, Socrates—will you
comply? And are you ready to give assistance in the
improvement of the youths?
SOCRATES: Indeed, Lysimachus, I should be very wrong in
refusing to aid in the improvement of anybody. And if I had
shown in this conversation that I had a knowledge which
Nicias and Laches have not, then I admit that you would be
right in inviting me to perform this duty; but as we are
all in the same perplexity, why should one of us be
preferred to another? I certainly think that no one should;
and under these circumstances, let me offer you a piece of
advice (and this need not go further than ourselves). I
maintain, my friends, that every one of us should seek out
the best teacher whom he can find, first for ourselves, who
are greatly in need of one, and then for the youth,
regardless of expense or anything. But I cannot advise that
we remain as we are. And if any one laughs at us for going
to school at our age, I would quote to them the authority
of Homer, who says, that ‘Modesty is not good for a needy
man.’ Let us then, regardless of what may be said of us,
make the education of the youths our own education.
LYSIMACHUS: I like your proposal, Socrates; and as I am the
oldest, I am also the most eager to go to school with the
boys. Let me beg a favour of you: Come to my house
to-morrow at dawn, and we will advise about these matters.
For the present, let us make an end of the conversation.
SOCRATES: I will come to you to-morrow, Lysimachus, as you
propose, God willing.