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Pol: What! and does all happiness consist in this?
Soc: Yes, indeed, Polus, that is my doctrine; the men and women who are gentle and good are also happy, as I maintain, and the unjust and evil are miserable.
Pol: Then, according to your doctrine, the said Archelaus is miserable?
Soc: Yes, my friend, if he is wicked.
Pol: That he is wicked I cannot deny; for he had no title at all to the throne which he now occupies, he being only the son of a woman who was the slave of Alcetas the brother of Perdiccas; he himself therefore in strict right was the slave of Alcetas; and if he had meant to do rightly he would have remained his slave, and then, according to your doctrine, he would have been happy. But now he is unspeakably miserable, for he has been guilty of the greatest crimes: in the first place he invited his uncle and master, Alcetas, to come to him, under the pretence that he would restore to him the throne which Perdiccas has usurped, and after entertaining him and his son Alexander, who was his own cousin, and nearly of an age with him, and making them drunk, he threw them into a waggon and carried them off by night, and slew them, and got both of them out of the way; and when he had done all this wickedness he never discovered that he was the most miserable of all men, was very far from repenting: shall I tell you how he showed his remorse? he had a younger brother, a child of seven years old, who was the legitimate son of Perdiccas, and to him of right the kingdom belonged; Archelaus, however, had no mind to bring him up as he ought and restore the kingdom to him; that was not his notion of happiness; but not long afterwards he threw him into a well and drowned him, and declared to his mother Cleopatra that he had fallen in while running after a goose, and had been killed. And now as he is the greatest criminal of all the Macedonians, he may be supposed to be the most miserable and not the happiest of them, and I dare say that there are many Athenians, and you would be at the head of them, who would rather be any other Macedonian than Archelaus!
Soc: I praised you at first, Polus, for being a rhetorician rather than a reasoner. And this, as I suppose, is the sort of argument with which you fancy that a child might refute me, and by which I stand refuted when I say that the unjust man is not happy. But, my good friend, where is the refutation? I cannot admit a word which you have been saying.
Pol: That is because you will not; for you surely must think as I do.
Soc: Not so, my simple friend, but because you will refute me after the manner which rhetoricians practise in courts of law. For there the one party think that they refute the other when they bring forward a number of witnesses of good repute in proof of their allegations, and their adversary has only a single one or none at all. But this kind of proof is of no value where truth is the aim; a man may often be sworn down by a multitude of false witnesses who have a great air of respectability. And in this argument nearly every one, Athenian and stranger alike, would be on your side, if you should bring witnesses in disproof of my statement—you may, if you will, summon Nicias the son of Niceratus, and let his brothers, who gave the row of tripods which stand in the precincts of Dionysus, come with him; or you may summon Aristocrates, the son of Scellius, who is the giver of that famous offering which is at Delphi; summon, if you will, the whole house of Pericles, or any other great Athenian family whom you choose—they will all agree with you: I only am left alone and cannot agree, for you do not convince me; although you produce many false witnesses against me, in the hope of depriving me of my inheritance, which is the truth. But I consider that nothing worth speaking of will have been effected by me unless I make you the one witness of my words; nor by you, unless you make me the one witness of yours; no matter about the rest of the world. For there are two ways of refutation, one which is yours and that of the world in general; but mine is of another sort—let us compare them, and see in what they differ. For, indeed, we are at issue about matters which to know is honourable and not to know disgraceful; to know or not to know happiness and misery—that is the chief of them. And what knowledge can be nobler? or what ignorance more disgraceful than this? And therefore I will begin by asking you whether you do not think that a man who is unjust and doing injustice can be happy, seeing that you think Archelaus unjust, and yet happy? May I assume this to be your opinion?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: But I say that this is an impossibility—here is one point about which we are at issue: —very good. And do you mean to say also that if he meets with retribution and punishment he will still be happy?
Pol: Certainly not; in that case he will be most miserable.
Soc: On the other hand, if the unjust be not punished, then, according to you, he will be happy?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: But in my opinion, Polus, the unjust or doer of unjust actions is miserable in any case, —more miserable, however, if he be not punished and does not meet with retribution, and less miserable if he be punished and meets with retribution at the hands of gods and men.
Pol: You are maintaining a strange doctrine, Socrates.
Soc: I shall try to make you agree with me, O my friend, for as a friend I regard you. Then these are the points at issue between us—are they not? I was saying that to do is worse than to suffer injustice?
Pol: Exactly so.
Soc: And you said the opposite?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: I said also that the wicked are miserable, and you refuted me?
Pol: By Zeus, I did.
Soc: In your own opinion, Polus.
Pol: Yes, and I rather suspect that I was in the right.
Soc: You further said that the wrong—doer is happy if he be unpunished?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: And I affirm that he is most miserable, and that those who are punished are less miserable—are you going to refute this proposition also?
Pol: A proposition which is harder of refutation than the other, Socrates.
Soc: Say rather, Polus, impossible; for who can refute the truth?
Pol: What do you mean? If a man is detected in an unjust attempt to make himself a tyrant, and when detected is racked, mutilated, has his eyes burned out, and after having had all sorts of great injuries inflicted on him, and having seen his wife and children suffer the like, is at last impaled or tarred and burned alive, will he be happier than if he escape and become a tyrant, and continue all through life doing what he likes and holding the reins of government, the envy and admiration both of citizens and strangers? Is that the paradox which, as you say, cannot be refuted?
Soc: There again, noble Polus, you are raising hobgoblins instead of refuting me; just now you were calling witnesses against me. But please to refresh my memory a little; did you say— "in an unjust attempt to make himself a tyrant"?
Pol: Yes, I did.
Soc: Then I say that neither of them will be happier than the other—neither he who unjustly acquires a tyranny, nor he who suffers in the attempt, for of two miserables one cannot be the happier, but that he who escapes and becomes a tyrant is the more miserable of the two. Do you laugh, Polus? Well, this is a new kind of refutation—when any one says anything, instead of refuting him to laugh at him.
Pol: But do you not think, Socrates, that you have been sufficiently refuted, when you say that which no human being will allow? Ask the company.
Soc: O Polus, I am not a public man, and only last year, when my tribe were serving as Prytanes, and it became my duty as their president to take the votes, there was a laugh at me, because I was unable to take them. And as I failed then, you must not ask me to count the suffrages of the company now; but if, as I was saying, you have no better argument than numbers, let me have a turn, and do you make trial of the sort of proof which, as I think, is required; for I shall produce one witness only of the truth of my words, and he is the person with whom I am arguing; his suffrage I know how to take; but with the many I have nothing to do, and do not even address myself to them. May I ask then whether you will answer in turn and have your words put to the proof? For I certainly think that I and you and every man do really believe, that to do is a greater evil than to suffer injustice: and not to be punished than to be punished.
Pol: And I should say neither I, nor any man: would you yourself, for example, suffer rather than do injustice?
Soc: Yes, and you, too; I or any man would.
Pol: Quite the reverse; neither you, nor I, nor any man.
Soc: But will you answer?
Pol: To be sure, I will—for I am curious to hear what you can have to say.
Soc: Tell me, then, and you will know, and let us suppose that I am beginning at the beginning: which of the two, Polus, in your opinion, is the worst? —to do injustice or to suffer?
Pol: I should say that suffering was worst.
Soc: And which is the greater disgrace? —Answer.
Pol: To do.
Soc: And the greater disgrace is the greater evil?
Pol: Certainly not.
Soc: I understand you to say, if I am not mistaken, that the honourable is not the same as the good, or the disgraceful as the evil?
Pol: Certainly not.
Soc: Let me ask a question of you: When you speak of beautiful things, such as bodies, colours, figures, sounds, institutions, do you not call them beautiful in reference to some standard: bodies, for example, are beautiful in proportion as they are useful, or as the sight of them gives pleasure to the spectators; can you give any other account of personal beauty?
Pol: I cannot.
Soc: And you would say of figures or colours generally that they were beautiful, either by reason of the pleasure which they give, or of their use, or both?
Pol: Yes, I should.
Soc: And you would call sounds and music beautiful for the same reason?
Pol: I should.
Soc: Laws and institutions also have no beauty in them except in so far as they are useful or pleasant or both?
Pol: I think not.
Soc: And may not the same be said of the beauty of knowledge?
Pol: To be sure, Socrates; and I very much approve of your measuring beauty by the standard of pleasure and utility.
Soc: And deformity or disgrace may be equally measured by the opposite standard of pain and evil?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: Then when of two beautiful things one exceeds in beauty, the measure of the excess is to be taken in one or both of these; that is to say, in pleasure or utility or both?
Pol: Very true.
Soc: And of two deformed things, that which exceeds in deformity or disgrace, exceeds either in pain or evil—must it not be so?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: But then again, what was the observation which you just now made, about doing and suffering wrong? Did you not say, that suffering wrong was more evil, and doing wrong more disgraceful?
Pol: I did.
Soc: Then, if doing wrong is more disgraceful than suffering, the more disgraceful must be more painful and must exceed in pain or in evil or both: does not that also follow?
Pol: Of course.
Soc: First, then, let us consider whether the doing of injustice exceeds the suffering in the consequent pain: Do the injurers suffer more than the injured?
Pol: No, Socrates; certainly not.
Soc: Then they do not exceed in pain?
Pol: No.
Soc: But if not in pain, then not in both?
Pol: Certainly not.
Soc: Then they can only exceed in the other?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: That is to say, in evil?
Pol: True.
Soc: Then doing injustice will have an excess of evil, and will therefore be a greater evil than suffering injustice?
Pol: Clearly.
Soc: But have not you and the world already agreed that to do injustice is more disgraceful than to suffer?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: And that is now discovered to be more evil?
Pol: True.
Soc: And would you prefer a greater evil or a greater dishonour to a less one? Answer, Polus, and fear not; for you will come to no harm if you nobly resign yourself into the healing hand of the argument as to a physician without shrinking, and either say "Yes" or "No" to me.
Pol: I should say "No. "
Soc: Would any other man prefer a greater to a less evil?
Pol: No, not according to this way of putting the case, Socrates.
Soc: Then I said truly, Polus that neither you, nor I, nor any man, would rather, do than suffer injustice; for to do injustice is the greater evil of the two.
Pol: That is the conclusion.
Soc: You see, Polus, when you compare the two kinds of refutations, how unlike they are. All men, with the exception of myself, are of your way of thinking; but your single assent and witness are enough for me—I have no need of any other, I take your suffrage, and am regardless of the rest. Enough of this, and now let us proceed to the next question; which is, Whether the greatest of evils to a guilty man is to suffer punishment, as you supposed, or whether to escape punishment is not a greater evil, as I supposed. Consider: —You would say that to suffer punishment is another name for being justly corrected when you do wrong?
Pol: I should.
Soc: And would you not allow that all just things are honourable in so far as they are just? Please to reflect, and, tell me your opinion.
Pol: Yes, Socrates, I think that they are.
Soc: Consider again: —Where there is an agent, must there not also be a patient?
Pol: I should say so.
Soc: And will not the patient suffer that which the agent does, and will not the suffering have the quality of the action? I mean, for example, that if a man strikes, there must be something which is stricken?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: And if the striker strikes violently or quickly, that which is struck will he struck violently or quickly?
Pol: True.
Soc: And the suffering to him who is stricken is of the same nature as the act of him who strikes?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: And if a man burns, there is something which is burned?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: And if he burns in excess or so as to cause pain, the thing burned will be burned in the same way?
Pol: Truly.
Soc: And if he cuts, the same argument holds—there will be something cut?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: And if the cutting be great or deep or such as will cause pain, the cut will be of the same nature?
Pol: That is evident.
Soc: Then you would agree generally to the universal proposition which I was just now asserting: that the affection of the patient answers to the affection of the agent?
Pol: I agree.
Soc: Then, as this is admitted, let me ask whether being punished is suffering or acting?
Pol: Suffering, Socrates; there can be no doubt of that.
Soc: And suffering implies an agent?
Pol: Certainly, Socrates; and he is the punisher.
Soc: And he who punishes rightly, punishes justly?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: And therefore he acts justly?
Pol: Justly.
Soc: Then he who is punished and suffers retribution, suffers justly?
Pol: That is evident.
Soc: And that which is just has been admitted to be honourable?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: Then the punisher does what is honourable, and the punished suffers what is honourable?
Pol: True.
Soc: And if what is honourable, then what is good, for the honourable is either pleasant or useful?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: Then he who is punished suffers what is good?
Pol: That is true.
Soc: Then he is benefited?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: Do I understand you to mean what I mean by the term "benefited"? I mean, that if he be justly punished his soul is improved.
Pol: Surely.
Soc: Then he who is punished is delivered from the evil of his soul?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: And is he not then delivered from the greatest evil? Look at the matter in this way: —In respect of a man's estate, do you see any greater evil than poverty?
Pol: There is no greater evil.
Soc: Again, in a man's bodily frame, you would say that the evil is weakness and disease and deformity?
Pol: I should.
Soc: And do you not imagine that the soul likewise has some evil of her own?
Pol: Of course.
Soc: And this you would call injustice and ignorance and cowardice, and the like?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: So then, in mind, body, and estate, which are three, you have pointed out three corresponding evils—injustice, disease, poverty?
Pol: True.
Soc: And which of the evils is the most disgraceful? —Is not the most disgraceful of them injustice, and in general the evil of the soul?
Pol: By far the most.
Soc: And if the most disgraceful, then also the worst?
Pol: What do you mean, Socrates?
Soc: I mean to say, that is most disgraceful has been already admitted to be most painful or hurtful, or both.
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: And now injustice and all evil in the soul has been admitted by to be most disgraceful?
Pol: It has been admitted.
Soc: And most disgraceful either because most painful and causing excessive pain, or most hurtful, or both?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: And therefore to be unjust and intemperate, and cowardly and ignorant, is more painful than to be poor and sick?
Pol: Nay, Socrates; the painfulness does not appear to me to follow from your premises.
Soc: Then, if, as you would argue, not more painful, the evil of the soul is of all evils the most disgraceful; and the excess of disgrace must be caused by some preternatural greatness, or extraordinary hurtfulness of the evil.
Pol: Clearly.
Soc: And that which exceeds most in hurtfulness will be the greatest of evils?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: Then injustice and intemperance, and in general the depravity of the soul, are the greatest of evils!
Pol: That is evident.
Soc: Now, what art is there which delivers us from poverty? Does not the art of making money?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: And what art frees us from disease? Does not the art of medicine?
Pol: Very true.
Soc: And what from vice and injustice? If you are not able to answer at once, ask yourself whither we go with the sick, and to whom we take them.
Pol: To the physicians, Socrates.
Soc: And to whom do we go with the unjust and intemperate?
Pol: To the judges, you mean.
Soc: —Who are to punish them?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: And do not those who rightly punish others, punish them in accordance with a certain rule of justice?
Pol: Clearly.
Soc: Then the art of money—making frees a man from poverty; medicine from disease; and justice from intemperance and injustice?
Pol: That is evident.
Soc: Which, then, is the best of these three?
Pol: Will you enumerate them?
Soc: Money—making, medicine, and justice.
Pol: Justice, Socrates, far excels the two others.
Soc: And justice, if the best, gives the greatest pleasure or advantage or both?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: But is the being healed a pleasant thing, and are those who are being healed pleased?
Pol: I think not.
Soc: A useful thing, then?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: Yes, because the patient is delivered from a great evil; and this is the advantage of enduring the pain—that you get well?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: And would he be the happier man in his bodily condition, who is healed, or who never was out of health?
Pol: Clearly he who was never out of health.
Soc: Yes; for happiness surely does not consist in being delivered from evils, but in never having had them.
Pol: True.
Soc: And suppose the case of two persons who have some evil in their bodies, and that one of them is healed and delivered from evil, and another is not healed, but retains the evil—which of them is the most miserable?
Pol: Clearly he who is not healed.
Soc: And was not punishment said by us to be a deliverance from the greatest of evils, which is vice?
Pol: True.
Soc: And justice punishes us, and makes us more just, and is the medicine of our vice?
Pol: True.
Soc: He, then, has the first place in the scale of happiness who has never had vice in his soul; for this has been shown to be the greatest of evils.
Pol: Clearly.
Soc: And he has the second place, who is delivered from vice?
Pol: True.
Soc: That is to say, he who receives admonition and rebuke and punishment?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: Then he lives worst, who, having been unjust, has no deliverance from injustice?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: That is, he lives worst who commits the greatest crimes, and who, being the most unjust of men, succeeds in escaping rebuke or correction or punishment; and this, as you say, has been accomplished by Archelaus and other tyrants and rhetoricians and potentates?
Pol: True.
Soc: May not their way of proceeding, my friend, be compared to the conduct of a person who is afflicted with the worst of diseases and yet contrives not to pay the penalty to the physician for his sins against his constitution, and will not be cured, because, like a child, he is afraid of the pain of being burned or cut: —Is not that a parallel case?
Pol: Yes, truly.
Soc: He would seem as if he did not know the nature of health and bodily vigour; and if we are right, Polus, in our previous conclusions, they are in a like case who strive to evade justice, which they see to be painful, but are blind to the advantage which ensues from it, not knowing how far more miserable a companion a diseased soul is than a diseased body; a soul, I say, which is corrupt and unrighteous and unholy. And hence they do all that they can to avoid punishment and to avoid being released from the greatest of evils; they provide themselves with money and friends, and cultivate to the utmost their powers of persuasion. But if we, Polus, are right, do you see what follows, or shall we draw out the consequences in form?
Pol: If you please.
Soc: Is it not a fact that injustice, and the doing of injustice, is the greatest of evils?
Pol: That is quite clear.
Soc: And further, that to suffer punishment is the way to be released from this evil?
Pol: True.
Soc: And not to suffer, is to perpetuate the evil?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: To do wrong, then, is second only in the scale of evils; but to do wrong and not to be punished, is first and greatest of all?
Pol: That is true.
Soc: Well, and was not this the point in dispute, my friend? You deemed Archelaus happy, because he was a very great criminal and unpunished: I, on the other hand, maintained that he or any other who like him has done wrong and has not been punished, is, and ought to be, the most miserable of all men; and that the doer of injustice is more miserable than the sufferer; and he who escapes punishment, more miserable than he who suffers. —Was not that what I said?
Pol: Yes.
Soc: And it has been proved to be true?
Pol: Certainly.
Soc: Well, Polus, but if this is true, where is the great use of rhetoric? If we admit what has been just now said, every man ought in every way to guard himself against doing wrong, for he will thereby suffer great evil?
Pol: True.
Soc: And if he, or any one about whom he cares, does wrong, he ought of his own accord to go where he will be immediately punished; he will run to the judge, as he would to the physician, in order that the disease of injustice may not be rendered chronic and become the incurable cancer of the soul; must we not allow this consequence, Polus, if our former admissions are to stand: —is any other inference consistent with them?
Pol: To that, Socrates, there can be but one answer.
Soc: Then rhetoric is of no use to us, Polus, in helping a man to excuse his own injustice, that of his parents or friends, or children or country; but may be of use to any one who holds that instead of excusing he ought to accuse—himself above all, and in the next degree his family or any of his friends who may be doing wrong; he should bring to light the iniquity and not conceal it, that so the wrong—doer may suffer and be made whole; and he should even force himself and others not to shrink, but with closed eyes like brave men to let the physician operate with knife or searing iron, not regarding the pain, in the hope of attaining the good and the honourable; let him who has done things worthy of stripes, allow himself to be scourged, if of bonds, to be bound, if of a fine, to be fined, if of exile, to be exiled, if of death, to die, himself being the first to accuse himself and his relations, and using rhetoric to this end, that his and their unjust actions may be made manifest, and that they themselves may be delivered from injustice, which is the greatest evil. Then, Polus, rhetoric would indeed be useful. Do you say "Yes" or "No" to that?
Pol: To me, Socrates, what you are saying appears very strange, though probably in agreement with your premises.
Soc: Is not this the conclusion, if the premises are not disproven?
Pol: Yes; it certainly is.
Soc: And from the opposite point of view, if indeed it be our duty to harm another, whether an enemy or not—I except the case of self—defence—then I have to be upon my guard—but if my enemy injures a third person, then in every sort of way, by word as well as deed, I should try to prevent his being punished, or appearing before the judge; and if he appears, I should contrive that he should escape, and not suffer punishment: if he has stolen a sum of money, let him keep what he has stolen and spend it on him and his, regardless of religion and justice; and if he has done things worthy of death, let him not die, but rather be immortal in his wickedness; or, if this is not possible, let him at any rate be allowed to live as long as he can. For such purposes, Polus, rhetoric may be useful, but is of small if of any use to him who is not intending to commit injustice; at least, there was no such use discovered by us in the previous discussion.
Cal: Tell me, Chaerephon, is Socrates in earnest, or is he joking?
Chaer: I should say, Callicles, that he is in most profound earnest; but you may well ask him.
Cal: By the gods, and I will. Tell me, Socrates, are you in earnest, or only in jest? For if you are in earnest, and what you say is true, is not the whole of human life turned upside down; and are we not doing, as would appear, in everything the opposite of what we ought to be doing?
Soc: O Callicles, if there were not some community of feelings among mankind, however varying in different persons—I mean to say, if every man's feelings were peculiar to himself and were not shared by the rest of his species—I do not see how we could ever communicate our impressions to one another. I make this remark because I perceive that you and I have a common feeling. For we are lovers both, and both of us have two loves apiece: —I am the lover of Alcibiades, the son of Cleinias—I and of philosophy; and you of the Athenian Demus, and of Demus the son of Pyrilampes. Now, I observe that you, with all your cleverness, do not venture to contradict your favourite in any word or opinion of his; but as he changes you change, backwards and forwards. When the Athenian Demus denies anything that you are saying in the assembly, you go over to his opinion; and you do the same with Demus, the fair young son of Pyrilampes. For you have not the power to resist the words and ideas of your loves; and if a person were to express surprise at the strangeness of what you say from time to time when under their influence, you would probably reply to him, if you were honest, that you cannot help saying what your loves say unless they are prevented; and that you can only be silent when they are. Now you must understand that my words are an echo too, and therefore you need not wonder at me; but if you want to silence me, silence philosophy, who is my love, for she is always telling me what I am telling you, my friend; neither is she capricious like my other love, for the son of Cleinias says one thing to—day and another thing to—morrow, but philosophy is always true. She is the teacher at whose words you are. now wondering, and you have heard her yourself. Her you must refute, and either show, as I was saying, that to do injustice and to escape punishment is not the worst of all evils; or, if you leave her word unrefuted, by the dog the god of Egypt, I declare, O Callicles, that Callicles will never be at one with himself, but that his whole life, will be a discord. And yet, my friend, I would rather that my lyre should be inharmonious, and that there should be no music in the chorus which I provided; aye, or that the whole world should be at odds with me, and oppose me, rather than that I myself should be at odds with myself, and contradict myself.