LESSER HIPPIAS
by Plato
(see Appendix I)
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
APPENDIX I.
It seems impossible to separate by any exact line the
genuine writings of Plato from the spurious. The only
external evidence to them which is of much value is that of
Aristotle; for the Alexandrian catalogues of a century
later include manifest forgeries. Even the value of the
Aristotelian authority is a good deal impaired by the
uncertainty concerning the date and authorship of the
writings which are ascribed to him. And several of the
citations of Aristotle omit the name of Plato, and some of
them omit the name of the dialogue from which they are
taken. Prior, however, to the enquiry about the writings of
a particular author, general considerations which equally
affect all evidence to the genuineness of ancient writings
are the following: Shorter works are more likely to have
been forged, or to have received an erroneous designation,
than longer ones; and some kinds of composition, such as
epistles or panegyrical orations, are more liable to
suspicion than others; those, again, which have a taste of
sophistry in them, or the ring of a later age, or the
slighter character of a rhetorical exercise, or in which a
motive or some affinity to spurious writings can be
detected, or which seem to have originated in a name or
statement really occurring in some classical author, are
also of doubtful credit; while there is no instance of any
ancient writing proved to be a forgery, which combines
excellence with length. A really great and original writer
would have no object in fathering his works on Plato; and
to the forger or imitator, the 'literary hack' of
Alexandria and Athens, the Gods did not grant originality
or genius. Further, in attempting to balance the evidence
for and against a Platonic dialogue, we must not forget
that the form of the Platonic writing was common to several
of his contemporaries. Aeschines, Euclid, Phaedo,
Antisthenes, and in the next generation Aristotle, are all
said to have composed dialogues; and mistakes of names are
very likely to have occurred. Greek literature in the third
century before Christ was almost as voluminous as our own,
and without the safeguards of regular publication, or
printing, or binding, or even of distinct titles. An
unknown writing was naturally attributed to a known writer
whose works bore the same character; and the name once
appended easily obtained authority. A tendency may also be
observed to blend the works and opinions of the master with
those of his scholars. To a later Platonist, the difference
between Plato and his imitators was not so perceptible as
to ourselves. The Memorabilia of Xenophon and the Dialogues
of Plato are but a part of a considerable Socratic
literature which has passed away. And we must consider how
we should regard the question of the genuineness of a
particular writing, if this lost literature had been
preserved to us.
These considerations lead us to adopt the following
criteria of genuineness: (1) That is most certainly Plato's
which Aristotle attributes to him by name, which (2) is of
considerable length, of (3) great excellence, and also (4)
in harmony with the general spirit of the Platonic
writings. But the testimony of Aristotle cannot always be
distinguished from that of a later age (see above); and has
various degrees of importance. Those writings which he
cites without mentioning Plato, under their own names, e.g.
the Hippias, the Funeral Oration, the Phaedo, etc., have an
inferior degree of evidence in their favour. They may have
been supposed by him to be the writings of another,
although in the case of really great works, e.g. the
Phaedo, this is not credible; those again which are quoted
but not named, are still more defective in their external
credentials. There may be also a possibility that Aristotle
was mistaken, or may have confused the master and his
scholars in the case of a short writing; but this is
inconceivable about a more important work, e.g. the Laws,
especially when we remember that he was living at Athens,
and a frequenter of the groves of the Academy, during the
last twenty years of Plato's life. Nor must we forget that
in all his numerous citations from the Platonic writings he
never attributes any passage found in the extant dialogues
to any one but Plato. And lastly, we may remark that one or
two great writings, such as the Parmenides and the
Politicus, which are wholly devoid of Aristotelian (1)
credentials may be fairly attributed to Plato, on the
ground of (2) length, (3) excellence, and (4) accordance
with the general spirit of his writings. Indeed the greater
part of the evidence for the genuineness of ancient Greek
authors may be summed up under two heads only: (1)
excellence; and (2) uniformity of tradition--a kind of
evidence, which though in many cases sufficient, is of
inferior value.
Proceeding upon these principles we appear to arrive at the
conclusion that nineteen-twentieths of all the writings
which have ever been ascribed to Plato, are undoubtedly
genuine. There is another portion of them, including the
Epistles, the Epinomis, the dialogues rejected by the
ancients themselves, namely, the Axiochus, De justo, De
virtute, Demodocus, Sisyphus, Eryxias, which on grounds,
both of internal and external evidence, we are able with
equal certainty to reject. But there still remains a small
portion of which we are unable to affirm either that they
are genuine or spurious. They may have been written in
youth, or possibly like the works of some painters, may be
partly or wholly the compositions of pupils; or they may
have been the writings of some contemporary transferred by
accident to the more celebrated name of Plato, or of some
Platonist in the next generation who aspired to imitate his
master. Not that on grounds either of language or
philosophy we should lightly reject them. Some difference
of style, or inferiority of execution, or inconsistency of
thought, can hardly be considered decisive of their
spurious character. For who always does justice to himself,
or who writes with equal care at all times? Certainly not
Plato, who exhibits the greatest differences in dramatic
power, in the formation of sentences, and in the use of
words, if his earlier writings are compared with his later
ones, say the Protagoras or Phaedrus with the Laws. Or who
can be expected to think in the same manner during a period
of authorship extending over above fifty years, in an age
of great intellectual activity, as well as of political and
literary transition? Certainly not Plato, whose earlier
writings are separated from his later ones by as wide an
interval of philosophical speculation as that which
separates his later writings from Aristotle.
The dialogues which have been translated in the first
Appendix, and which appear to have the next claim to
genuineness among the Platonic writings, are the Lesser
Hippias, the Menexenus or Funeral Oration, the First
Alcibiades. Of these, the Lesser Hippias and the Funeral
Oration are cited by Aristotle; the first in the
Metaphysics, the latter in the Rhetoric. Neither of them
are expressly attributed to Plato, but in his citation of
both of them he seems to be referring to passages in the
extant dialogues. From the mention of 'Hippias' in the
singular by Aristotle, we may perhaps infer that he was
unacquainted with a second dialogue bearing the same name.
Moreover, the mere existence of a Greater and Lesser
Hippias, and of a First and Second Alcibiades, does to a
certain extent throw a doubt upon both of them. Though a
very clever and ingenious work, the Lesser Hippias does not
appear to contain anything beyond the power of an imitator,
who was also a careful student of the earlier Platonic
writings, to invent. The motive or leading thought of the
dialogue may be detected in Xen. Mem., and there is no
similar instance of a 'motive' which is taken from Xenophon
in an undoubted dialogue of Plato. On the other hand, the
upholders of the genuineness of the dialogue will find in
the Hippias a true Socratic spirit; they will compare the
Ion as being akin both in subject and treatment; they will
urge the authority of Aristotle; and they will detect in
the treatment of the Sophist, in the satirical reasoning
upon Homer, in the reductio ad absurdum of the doctrine
that vice is ignorance, traces of a Platonic authorship. In
reference to the last point we are doubtful, as in some of
the other dialogues, whether the author is asserting or
overthrowing the paradox of Socrates, or merely following
the argument 'whither the wind blows.' That no conclusion
is arrived at is also in accordance with the character of
the earlier dialogues. The resemblances or imitations of
the Gorgias, Protagoras, and Euthydemus, which have been
observed in the Hippias, cannot with certainty be adduced
on either side of the argument. On the whole, more may be
said in favour of the genuineness of the Hippias than
against it.
The Menexenus or Funeral Oration is cited by Aristotle, and
is interesting as supplying an example of the manner in
which the orators praised 'the Athenians among the
Athenians,' falsifying persons and dates, and casting a
veil over the gloomier events of Athenian history. It
exhibits an acquaintance with the funeral oration of
Thucydides, and was, perhaps, intended to rival that great
work. If genuine, the proper place of the Menexenus would
be at the end of the Phaedrus. The satirical opening and
the concluding words bear a great resemblance to the
earlier dialogues; the oration itself is professedly a
mimetic work, like the speeches in the Phaedrus, and cannot
therefore be tested by a comparison of the other writings
of Plato. The funeral oration of Pericles is expressly
mentioned in the Phaedrus, and this may have suggested the
subject, in the same manner that the Cleitophon appears to
be suggested by the slight mention of Cleitophon and his
attachment to Thrasymachus in the Republic; and the Theages
by the mention of Theages in the Apology and Republic; or
as the Second Alcibiades seems to be founded upon the text
of Xenophon, Mem. A similar taste for parody appears not
only in the Phaedrus, but in the Protagoras, in the
Symposium, and to a certain extent in the Parmenides.
To these two doubtful writings of Plato I have added the
First Alcibiades, which, of all the disputed dialogues of
Plato, has the greatest merit, and is somewhat longer than
any of them, though not verified by the testimony of
Aristotle, and in many respects at variance with the
Symposium in the description of the relations of Socrates
and Alcibiades. Like the Lesser Hippias and the Menexenus,
it is to be compared to the earlier writings of Plato. The
motive of the piece may, perhaps, be found in that passage
of the Symposium in which Alcibiades describes himself as
self-convicted by the words of Socrates. For the
disparaging manner in which Schleiermacher has spoken of
this dialogue there seems to be no sufficient foundation.
At the same time, the lesson imparted is simple, and the
irony more transparent than in the undoubted dialogues of
Plato. We know, too, that Alcibiades was a favourite
thesis, and that at least five or six dialogues bearing
this name passed current in antiquity, and are attributed
to contemporaries of Socrates and Plato. (1) In the entire
absence of real external evidence (for the catalogues of
the Alexandrian librarians cannot be regarded as
trustworthy); and (2) in the absence of the highest marks
either of poetical or philosophical excellence; and (3)
considering that we have express testimony to the existence
of contemporary writings bearing the name of Alcibiades, we
are compelled to suspend our judgment on the genuineness of
the extant dialogue.
Neither at this point, nor at any other, do we propose to
draw an absolute line of demarcation between genuine and
spurious writings of Plato. They fade off imperceptibly
from one class to another. There may have been degrees of
genuineness in the dialogues themselves, as there are
certainly degrees of evidence by which they are supported.
The traditions of the oral discourses both of Socrates and
Plato may have formed the basis of semi-Platonic writings;
some of them may be of the same mixed character which is
apparent in Aristotle and Hippocrates, although the form of
them is different. But the writings of Plato, unlike the
writings of Aristotle, seem never to have been confused
with the writings of his disciples: this was probably due
to their definite form, and to their inimitable excellence.
The three dialogues which we have offered in the Appendix
to the criticism of the reader may be partly spurious and
partly genuine; they may be altogether spurious;--that is
an alternative which must be frankly admitted. Nor can we
maintain of some other dialogues, such as the Parmenides,
and the Sophist, and Politicus, that no considerable
objection can be urged against them, though greatly
overbalanced by the weight (chiefly) of internal evidence
in their favour. Nor, on the other hand, can we exclude a
bare possibility that some dialogues which are usually
rejected, such as the Greater Hippias and the Cleitophon,
may be genuine. The nature and object of these
semi-Platonic writings require more careful study and more
comparison of them with one another, and with forged
writings in general, than they have yet received, before we
can finally decide on their character. We do not consider
them all as genuine until they can be proved to be
spurious, as is often maintained and still more often
implied in this and similar discussions; but should say of
some of them, that their genuineness is neither proven nor
disproven until further evidence about them can be adduced.
And we are as confident that the Epistles are spurious, as
that the Republic, the Timaeus, and the Laws are genuine.
On the whole, not a twentieth part of the writings which
pass under the name of Plato, if we exclude the works
rejected by the ancients themselves and two or three other
plausible inventions, can be fairly doubted by those who
are willing to allow that a considerable change and growth
may have taken place in his philosophy (see above). That
twentieth debatable portion scarcely in any degree affects
our judgment of Plato, either as a thinker or a writer, and
though suggesting some interesting questions to the scholar
and critic, is of little importance to the general reader.
LESSER HIPPIAS
by
Plato (see Appendix I above)
Translated by Benjamin Jowett
INTRODUCTION. To skip Introduction,
Click here.
The Lesser Hippias may be compared with the earlier
dialogues of Plato, in which the contrast of Socrates and
the Sophists is most strongly exhibited. Hippias, like
Protagoras and Gorgias, though civil, is vain and boastful:
he knows all things; he can make anything, including his
own clothes; he is a manufacturer of poems and
declamations, and also of seal-rings, shoes, strigils; his
girdle, which he has woven himself, is of a finer than
Persian quality. He is a vainer, lighter nature than the
two great Sophists (compare Protag.), but of the same
character with them, and equally impatient of the short
cut-and-thrust method of Socrates, whom he endeavours to
draw into a long oration. At last, he gets tired of being
defeated at every point by Socrates, and is with difficulty
induced to proceed (compare Thrasymachus, Protagoras,
Callicles, and others, to whom the same reluctance is
ascribed).
Hippias like Protagoras has common sense on his side, when
he argues, citing passages of the Iliad in support of his
view, that Homer intended Achilles to be the bravest,
Odysseus the wisest of the Greeks. But he is easily
overthrown by the superior dialectics of Socrates, who
pretends to show that Achilles is not true to his word, and
that no similar inconsistency is to be found in Odysseus.
Hippias replies that Achilles unintentionally, but Odysseus
intentionally, speaks falsehood. But is it better to do
wrong intentionally or unintentionally? Socrates, relying
on the analogy of the arts, maintains the former, Hippias
the latter of the two alternatives...All this is quite
conceived in the spirit of Plato, who is very far from
making Socrates always argue on the side of truth. The
over-reasoning on Homer, which is of course satirical, is
also in the spirit of Plato. Poetry turned logic is even
more ridiculous than 'rhetoric turned logic,' and equally
fallacious. There were reasoners in ancient as well as in
modern times, who could never receive the natural
impression of Homer, or of any other book which they read.
The argument of Socrates, in which he picks out the
apparent inconsistencies and discrepancies in the speech
and actions of Achilles, and the final paradox, 'that he
who is true is also false,' remind us of the interpretation
by Socrates of Simonides in the Protagoras, and of similar
reasonings in the first book of the Republic. The
discrepancies which Socrates discovers in the words of
Achilles are perhaps as great as those discovered by some
of the modern separatists of the Homeric poems...
At last, Socrates having caught Hippias in the toils of the
voluntary and involuntary, is obliged to confess that he is
wandering about in the same labyrinth; he makes the
reflection on himself which others would make upon him
(compare Protagoras). He does not wonder that he should be
in a difficulty, but he wonders at Hippias, and he becomes
sensible of the gravity of the situation, when ordinary men
like himself can no longer go to the wise and be taught by
them.
It may be remarked as bearing on the genuineness of this
dialogue: (1) that the manners of the speakers are less
subtle and refined than in the other dialogues of Plato;
(2) that the sophistry of Socrates is more palpable and
unblushing, and also more unmeaning; (3) that many turns of
thought and style are found in it which appear also in the
other dialogues:--whether resemblances of this kind tell in
favour of or against the genuineness of an ancient writing,
is an important question which will have to be answered
differently in different cases. For that a writer may
repeat himself is as true as that a forger may imitate; and
Plato elsewhere, either of set purpose or from
forgetfulness, is full of repetitions. The parallelisms of
the Lesser Hippias, as already remarked, are not of the
kind which necessarily imply that the dialogue is the work
of a forger. The parallelisms of the Greater Hippias with
the other dialogues, and the allusion to the Lesser (where
Hippias sketches the programme of his next lecture, and
invites Socrates to attend and bring any friends with him
who may be competent judges), are more than suspicious:--
they are of a very poor sort, such as we cannot suppose to
have been due to Plato himself. The Greater Hippias more
resembles the Euthydemus than any other dialogue; but is
immeasurably inferior to it. The Lesser Hippias seems to
have more merit than the Greater, and to be more Platonic
in spirit. The character of Hippias is the same in both
dialogues, but his vanity and boasting are even more
exaggerated in the Greater Hippias. His art of memory is
specially mentioned in both. He is an inferior type of the
same species as Hippodamus of Miletus (Arist. Pol.). Some
passages in which the Lesser Hippias may be advantageously
compared with the undoubtedly genuine dialogues of Plato
are the following:--Less. Hipp.: compare Republic
(Socrates' cunning in argument): compare Laches (Socrates'
feeling about arguments): compare Republic (Socrates not
unthankful): compare Republic (Socrates dishonest in
argument).
The Lesser Hippias, though inferior to the other dialogues,
may be reasonably believed to have been written by Plato,
on the ground (1) of considerable excellence; (2) of
uniform tradition beginning with Aristotle and his school.
That the dialogue falls below the standard of Plato's other
works, or that he has attributed to Socrates an unmeaning
paradox (perhaps with the view of showing that he could
beat the Sophists at their own weapons; or that he could
'make the worse appear the better cause'; or merely as a
dialectical experiment)--are not sufficient reasons for
doubting the genuineness of the work.
LESSER
HIPPIAS
by
Plato (see Appendix I above)
Translated by Benjamin Jowett.
PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Eudicus, Socrates, Hippias.
EUDICUS: Why are you silent, Socrates, after the
magnificent display which Hippias has been making? Why do
you not either refute his words, if he seems to you to have
been wrong in any point, or join with us in commending him?
There is the more reason why you should speak, because we
are now alone, and the audience is confined to those who
may fairly claim to take part in a philosophical
discussion.
SOCRATES: I should greatly like, Eudicus, to ask Hippias
the meaning of what he was saying just now about Homer. I
have heard your father, Apemantus, declare that the Iliad
of Homer is a finer poem than the Odyssey in the same
degree that Achilles was a better man than Odysseus;
Odysseus, he would say, is the central figure of the one
poem and Achilles of the other. Now, I should like to know,
if Hippias has no objection to tell me, what he thinks
about these two heroes, and which of them he maintains to
be the better; he has already told us in the course of his
exhibition many things of various kinds about Homer and
divers other poets.
EUDICUS: 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.
SOCRATES: Truly, Hippias, you are to be congratulated, if
at 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.
HIPPIAS: 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. (Compare
Gorgias.)
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: 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.
SOCRATES: 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.
HIPPIAS: 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.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: 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 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.
SOCRATES: Now, Hippias, I think that I understand your
meaning; when you say that Odysseus is wily, you clearly
mean that he is false?
HIPPIAS: Exactly so, Socrates; it is the character of
Odysseus, as he is represented by Homer in many passages
both of the Iliad and Odyssey.
SOCRATES: And Homer must be presumed to have meant that the
true man is not the same as the false?
HIPPIAS: Of course, Socrates.
SOCRATES: And is that your own opinion, Hippias?
HIPPIAS: Certainly; how can I have any other?
SOCRATES: Well, then, as there is no possibility of asking
Homer what he meant in these verses of his, let us leave
him; but as you show a willingness to take up his cause,
and your opinion agrees with what you declare to be his,
will you answer on behalf of yourself and him?
HIPPIAS: I will; ask shortly anything which you like.
SOCRATES: Do you say that the false, like the sick, have no
power to do things, or that they have the power to do
things?
HIPPIAS: I should say that they have power to do many
things, and in particular to deceive mankind.
SOCRATES: Then, according to you, they are both powerful
and wily, are they not?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: By reason of their cunning and prudence, most
certainly.
SOCRATES: Then they are prudent, I suppose?
HIPPIAS: So they are--very.
SOCRATES: And if they are prudent, do they know or do they
not know what they do?
HIPPIAS: Of course, they know very well; and that is why
they do mischief to others.
SOCRATES: And having this knowledge, are they ignorant, or
are they wise?
HIPPIAS: Wise, certainly; at least, in so far as they can
deceive.
SOCRATES: Stop, and let us recall to mind what you are
saying; are you not saying that the false are powerful and
prudent and knowing and wise in those things about which
they are false?
HIPPIAS: To be sure.
SOCRATES: And the true differ from the false--the true and
the false are the very opposite of each other?
HIPPIAS: That is my view.
SOCRATES: Then, according to your view, it would seem that
the false are to be ranked in the class of the powerful and
wise?
HIPPIAS: Assuredly.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: I mean to say that they have the power.
SOCRATES: In a word, then, the false are they who are wise
and have the power to speak falsely?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then a man who has not the power of speaking
falsely and is ignorant cannot be false?
HIPPIAS: You are right.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And tell me, Hippias, are you not a skilful
calculator and arithmetician?
HIPPIAS: Yes, Socrates, assuredly I am.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: certainly I should.
SOCRATES: Is not that because you are the wisest and ablest
of men in these matters?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And being as you are the wisest and ablest of men
in these matters of calculation, are you not also the best?
HIPPIAS: To be sure, Socrates, I am the best.
SOCRATES: And therefore you would be the most able to tell
the truth about these matters, would you not?
HIPPIAS: Yes, I should.
SOCRATES: 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 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?
HIPPIAS: Yes, there you are quite right.
SOCRATES: Does the false man tell lies about other things,
but not about number, or when he is making a calculation?
HIPPIAS: To be sure; he would tell as many lies about
number as about other things.
SOCRATES: Then may we further assume, Hippias, that there
are men who are false about calculation and number?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: Yes, I remember; it was so said.
SOCRATES: And were you not yourself just now shown to be
best able to speak falsely about calculation?
HIPPIAS: Yes; that was another thing which was said.
SOCRATES: And are you not likewise said to speak truly
about calculation?
HIPPIAS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: 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.
HIPPIAS: That is evident.
SOCRATES: 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.
HIPPIAS: Not in that instance, clearly.
SOCRATES: Shall we examine other instances?
HIPPIAS: Certainly, if you are disposed.
SOCRATES: Are you not also skilled in geometry?
HIPPIAS: I am.
SOCRATES: Well, and does not the same hold in that science
also? Is not the same person best able to speak falsely or
to speak truly about diagrams; and he is--the geometrician?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: He and no one else is good at it?
HIPPIAS: Yes, he and no one else.
SOCRATES: 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.
HIPPIAS: True.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: Yes, I am.
SOCRATES: And does not the same hold of astronomy?
HIPPIAS: True, Socrates.
SOCRATES: 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.
HIPPIAS: Clearly not.
SOCRATES: Then in astronomy also, the same man will be true
and false?
HIPPIAS: It would seem so.
SOCRATES: 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 you cannot.
HIPPIAS: Not without consideration, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Nor will consideration help you, Hippias, as I
believe; but then if I am right, remember what the
consequence will be.
HIPPIAS: I do not know what you mean, Socrates.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: I was.
SOCRATES: 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.
HIPPIAS: 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.
SOCRATES: O Hippias, I do not doubt that you are wiser than
I am. But I have a way, when anybody else says anything, of
giving close attention to him, especially if the speaker
appears to me to be a wise man. Having a desire to
understand, I question him, and I examine and analyse and
put together what he says, in order that I may understand;
but if the speaker appears to me to be a poor hand, I do
not interrogate him, or trouble myself about him, and you
may know by this who they are whom I deem to be wise men,
for you will see that when I am talking with a wise man, I
am very attentive to what he says; and I ask questions of
him, in order that I may learn, and be improved by him. And
I could not help remarking while you were speaking, that
when you recited the verses in which Achilles, as you
argued, attacks Odysseus as a deceiver, that you must be
strangely mistaken, because Odysseus, the man of wiles, is
never found to tell a lie; but Achilles is found to be wily
on your own showing. At any rate he speaks falsely; for
first he utters these words, which you just now repeated,--
'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 Ody
sseus 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.
HIPPIAS: There you are wrong, Socrates; for in so far as
Achilles speaks falsely, the falsehood is obviously
unintentional. He is compelled against his will to remain
and rescue the army in their misfortune. But when Odysseus
speaks falsely he is voluntarily and intentionally false.
SOCRATES: You, sweet Hippias, like Odysseus, are a deceiver
yourself.
HIPPIAS: Certainly not, Socrates; what makes you say so?
SOCRATES: Because you say that Achilles does not speak
falsely from design, when he is not only a deceiver, but
besides being a braggart, in Homer's description of him is
so cunning, and so far superior to Odysseus in lying and
pretending, that he dares to contradict himself, and
Odysseus does not find him out; at any rate he does not
appear to say anything to him which would imply that he
perceived his falsehood.
HIPPIAS: What do you mean, Socrates?
SOCRATES: Did you not observe that afterwards, when he is
speaking to Odysseus, he says that he will sail away with
the early dawn; but to Ajax he tells quite a different
story?
HIPPIAS: Where is that?
SOCRATES: Where he says,--
'I will not think about bloody war until the son of warlike
Priam, illustrious Hector, comes to the tents and ships of
the Myrmidons, slaughtering the Argives, and burning the
ships with fire; and about my tent and dark ship, I suspect
that Hector, although eager for the battle, will
nevertheless stay his hand.'
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?
HIPPIAS: 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.
SOCRATES: Then Odysseus would appear after all to be better
than Achilles?
HIPPIAS: Certainly not, Socrates.
SOCRATES: Why, were not the voluntary liars only just now
shown to be better than the involuntary?
HIPPIAS: 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 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.
SOCRATES: You see, Hippias, as I have already told you, how
pertinacious I am in asking questions of wise men. And I
think that this is the only good point about me, for I am
full of defects, and always getting wrong in some way or
other. My deficiency is proved to me by the fact that when
I meet one of you who are famous for wisdom, and to whose
wisdom all the Hellenes are witnesses, I am found out to
know nothing. For speaking generally, I hardly ever have
the same opinion about anything which you have, and what
proof of ignorance can be greater than to differ from wise
men? But I have one singular good quality, which is my
salvation; I am not ashamed to learn, and I ask and
enquire, and am very grateful to those who answer me, and
never fail to give them my grateful thanks; and when I
learn a thing I never deny my teacher, or pretend that the
lesson is a discovery of my own; but I praise his wisdom,
and proclaim what I have learned from him. And now I cannot
agree in what you are saying, but I strongly disagree.
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
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.
EUDICUS: 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?
HIPPIAS: Yes, I did; but then, Eudicus, Socrates is always
troublesome in an argument, and appears to be dishonest.
(Compare Gorgias; Republic.)
SOCRATES: 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.
EUDICUS: Yes, Hippias, do as he says; and for our sake, and
also that you may not belie your profession, answer
whatever Socrates asks you.
HIPPIAS: I will answer, as you request me; and do you ask
whatever you like.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And there are bad runners?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And he who runs well is a good runner, and he who
runs ill is a bad runner?
HIPPIAS: Very true.
SOCRATES: And he who runs slowly runs ill, and he who runs
quickly runs well?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then in a race, and in running, swiftness is a
good, and slowness is an evil quality?
HIPPIAS: To be sure.
SOCRATES: Which of the two then is a better runner? He who
runs slowly voluntarily, or he who runs slowly
involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: He who runs slowly voluntarily.
SOCRATES: And is not running a species of doing?
HIPPIAS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And if a species of doing, a species of action?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then he who runs badly does a bad and
dishonourable action in a race?
HIPPIAS: Yes; a bad action, certainly.
SOCRATES: And he who runs slowly runs badly?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then the good runner does this bad and
disgraceful action voluntarily, and the bad involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: That is to be inferred.
SOCRATES: Then he who involuntarily does evil actions, is
worse in a race than he who does them voluntarily?
HIPPIAS: Yes, in a race.
SOCRATES: Well, but at a wrestling match--which is the
better wrestler, he who falls voluntarily or involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: He who falls voluntarily, doubtless.
SOCRATES: And is it worse or more dishonourable at a
wrestling match, to fall, or to throw another?
HIPPIAS: To fall.
SOCRATES: Then, at a wrestling match, he who voluntarily
does base and dishonourable actions is a better wrestler
than he who does them involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: That appears to be the truth.
SOCRATES: 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.
HIPPIAS: Yes, that appears to be true about strength.
SOCRATES: 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?
HIPPIAS: True.
SOCRATES: Then voluntary ungracefulness comes from
excellence of the bodily frame, and involuntary from the
defect of the bodily frame?
HIPPIAS: True.
SOCRATES: And what would you say of an unmusical voice;
would you prefer the voice which is voluntarily or
involuntarily out of tune?
HIPPIAS: That which is voluntarily out of tune.
SOCRATES: The involuntary is the worse of the two?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And would you choose to possess goods or evils?
HIPPIAS: Goods.
SOCRATES: And would you rather have feet which are
voluntarily or involuntarily lame?
HIPPIAS: Feet which are voluntarily lame.
SOCRATES: But is not lameness a defect or deformity?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And is not blinking a defect in the eyes?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And would you rather always have eyes with which
you might voluntarily blink and not see, or with which you
might involuntarily blink?
HIPPIAS: I would rather have eyes which voluntarily blink.
SOCRATES: Then in your own case you deem that which
voluntarily acts ill, better than that which involuntarily
acts ill?
HIPPIAS: Yes, certainly, in cases such as you mention.
SOCRATES: And does not the same hold of ears, nostrils,
mouth, and of all the senses--those which involuntarily act
ill are not to be desired, as being defective; and those
which voluntarily act ill are to be desired as being good?
HIPPIAS: I agree.
SOCRATES: And what would you say of instruments;--which are
the better sort of instruments to have to do with?--those
with which a man acts ill voluntarily or involuntarily? For
example, had a man better have a rudder with which he will
steer ill, voluntarily or involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: He had better have a rudder with which he will
steer ill voluntarily.
SOCRATES: And does not the same hold of the bow and the
lyre, the flute and all other things?
HIPPIAS: Very true.
SOCRATES: And would you rather have a horse of such a
temper that you may ride him ill voluntarily or
involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: I would rather have a horse which I could ride ill
voluntarily.
SOCRATES: That would be the better horse?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then with a horse of better temper, vicious
actions would be produced voluntarily; and with a horse of
bad temper involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: And that would be true of a dog, or of any other
animal?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And is it better to possess the mind of an archer
who voluntarily or involuntarily misses the mark?
HIPPIAS: Of him who voluntarily misses.
SOCRATES: This would be the better mind for the purposes of
archery?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then the mind which involuntarily errs is worse
than the mind which errs voluntarily?
HIPPIAS: Yes, certainly, in the use of the bow.
SOCRATES: And what would you say of the art of
medicine;--has not the mind which voluntarily works harm to
the body, more of the healing art?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then in the art of medicine the voluntary is
better than the involuntary?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Well, and in lute-playing and in flute-playing,
and in all arts and sciences, is not that mind the better
which voluntarily does what is evil and dishonourable, and
goes wrong, and is not the worse that which does so
involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: That is evident.
SOCRATES: And what would you say of the characters of
slaves? Should we not prefer to have those who voluntarily
do wrong and make mistakes, and are they not better in
their mistakes than those who commit them involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And should we not desire to have our own minds in
the best state possible?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And will our minds be better if they do wrong and
make mistakes voluntarily or involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: O, Socrates, it would be a monstrous thing to say
that those who do wrong voluntarily are better than those
who do wrong involuntarily!
SOCRATES: And yet that appears to be the only inference.
HIPPIAS: I do not think so.
SOCRATES: But I imagined, Hippias, that you did. Please to
answer once more: Is not justice a power, or knowledge, or
both? Must not justice, at all events, be one of these?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: But if justice is a power of the soul, then the
soul which has the greater power is also the more just; for
that which has the greater power, my good friend, has been
proved by us to be the better.
HIPPIAS: Yes, that has been proved.
SOCRATES: And if justice is knowledge, then the wiser will
be the juster soul, and the more ignorant the more unjust?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: But if justice be power as well as
knowledge--then will not the soul which has both knowledge
and power be the more just, and that which is the more
ignorant be the more unjust? Must it not be so?
HIPPIAS: Clearly.
SOCRATES: And is not the soul which has the greater power
and wisdom also better, and better able to do both good and
evil in every action?
HIPPIAS: Certainly.
SOCRATES: The soul, then, which acts ill, acts voluntarily
by power and art--and these either one or both of them are
elements of justice?
HIPPIAS: That seems to be true.
SOCRATES: And to do injustice is to do ill, and not to do
injustice is to do well?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: And will not the better and abler soul when it
does wrong, do wrong voluntarily, and the bad soul
involuntarily?
HIPPIAS: Clearly.
SOCRATES: And the good man is he who has the good soul, and
the bad man is he who has the bad?
HIPPIAS: Yes.
SOCRATES: Then the good man will voluntarily do wrong, and
the bad man involuntarily, if the good man is he who has
the good soul?
HIPPIAS: Which he certainly has.
SOCRATES: Then, Hippias, he who voluntarily does wrong and
disgraceful things, if there be such a man, will be the
good man?
HIPPIAS: There I cannot agree with you.
SOCRATES: Nor can I agree with myself, Hippias; and yet
that seems to be the conclusion which, as far as we can see
at present, must follow from our argument. As I was saying
before, I am all abroad, and being in perplexity am always
changing my opinion. Now, that I or any ordinary man should
wander in perplexity is not surprising; but if you wise men
also wander, and we cannot come to you and rest from our
wandering, the matter begins to be serious both to us and
to you.