PLATO,

CHAPTER XXI.

EUTHYDEMUS.

Dramatic and comic exuberance of the Euthydêmus. Judgments of various critics.

Dramatic vivacity, and comic force, holding up various persons to ridicule or contempt, are attributes which Plato manifests often and abundantly. But the dialogue in which these qualities reach their maximum, is, the Euthydêmus. Some portions of it approach to the Nubes of Aristophanes: so that Schleiermacher, Stallbaum, and other admiring critics have some difficulty in explaining, to their own satisfaction,1 how Plato, the sublime moralist and lawgiver, can here have admitted so much trifling and buffoonery. Ast even rejects the dialogue as spurious; declaring it to be unworthy of Plato and insisting on various peculiarities, defects, and even absurdities, which offend his critical taste. His conclusion in this case has found no favour: yet I think it is based on reasons quite as forcible as those upon which other dialogues have been condemned:2 upon reasons, which, even if admitted, might prove that the dialogue was an inferior performance, but would not prove that Plato was not the author.

Scenery and personages.

Sokrates recounts (to Kriton) a conversation in which he has just been engaged with two Sophists, Euthydêmus and Dionysodorus, in the undressing-room belonging to the gymnasium of the Lykeium. There were present, besides, Kleinias, a youth of remarkable beauty and intelligence, cousin of the great Alkibiades — Ktesippus, an adult man, yet still young, friend of Sokrates and devotedly attached to Kleinias — 196and a crowd of unnamed persons, partly friends of Kleinias, partly admirers and supporters of the two Sophists.

The two Sophists, Euthydemus and Dionysodorus: manner in which they are here presented.

This couple are described and treated throughout by Sokrates, with the utmost admiration and respect: that is, in terms designating such feelings, but intended as the extreme of irony or caricature. They are masters of the art of Contention, in its three varieties3 — 1. Arms, and the command of soldiers. 2. Judicial and political rhetoric, fighting an opponent before the assembled Dikasts or people. 3. Contentious Dialectic — they can reduce every respondent to a contradiction, if he will only continue to answer their questions — whether what he says be true or false.4 All or each of these accomplishments they are prepared to teach to any pupil who will pay the required fee: the standing sarcasm of Plato against the paid teacher, occurring here as in so many other places. Lastly, they are brothers, old and almost toothless — natives of Chios, colonists from thence to Thurii, and exiles from Thurii and resident at Athens, yet visiting other cities for the purpose of giving lessons.5 Their dialectic skill is described as a recent acquisition, — made during their old age, only in the preceding year, — and completing their excellence as professors of the tripartite Eristic. But they now devote themselves to it more than to the other two parts. Moreover they advertise themselves as teachers of virtue.

Conversation carried on with Kleinias, first by Sokrates, next by the two Sophists.

The two Sophists, having announced themselves as competent to teach virtue and stimulate pupils to a virtuous life, are entreated by Sokrates to exercise their beneficent influence upon the youth Kleinias, in whose improvement he as well as Ktesippus feels the warmest interest. Sokrates gives a specimen of what he wishes by putting a series of questions himself. Euthydêmus follows, and begins questioning Kleinias; who, after answering 197three or four successive questions, is forced to contradict himself. Dionysodorus then takes up the last answer of Kleinias, puts him through another series of interrogations, and makes him contradict himself again. In this manner the two Sophists toss the youthful respondent backwards and forwards to each other, each contriving to entangle him in some puzzle and contradiction. They even apply the same process to Sokrates, who cannot avoid being entangled in the net; and to Ktesippus, who becomes exasperated, and retorts upon them with contemptuous asperity. The alternate interference of the two Sophists is described with great smartness and animation; which is promoted by the use of the dual number, peculiar to the Greek language, employed by Plato in speaking of them.

Contrast between the two different modes of interrogation.

This mode of dialectic, conducted by the two Sophists, is interrupted on two several occasions by a counter-exhibition of dialectic on the part of Sokrates: who, under colour of again showing to the couple a specimen of that which he wishes them to do, puts two successive batches of questions to Kleinias in his own manner.6 The contrast between Sokrates and the two Sophists, in the same work, carried on respectively by him and by them, of interrogating Kleinias, is evidently meant as one of the special matters to arrest attention in the dialogue. The questions put by the couple are made to turn chiefly on verbal quibbles and ambiguities: they are purposely designed to make the respondent contradict himself, and are proclaimed to be certain of bringing about this result, provided the respondent will conform to the laws of dialectic — by confining his answer to the special point of the question, without adding any qualification of his own, or asking for farther explanation from the questioner, or reverting to any antecedent answer lying apart from the actual question of the moment.7 Sokrates, on the contrary, addresses interrogations, each of which has a clear and substantive meaning, and most of which Kleinias is able to answer without embarrassment: he professes no other design except that of encouraging Kleinias to 198virtue, and assisting him to determine in what virtue consists: he resorts to no known quibbles or words of equivocal import. The effect of the interrogations is represented as being, not to confound and silence the youth, but to quicken and stimulate his mind and to call forth an unexpected amount of latent knowledge: insomuch that he makes one or two answers very much beyond his years, exciting the greatest astonishment and admiration, in Sokrates as well as in Kriton.8 In this respect, the youth Kleinias serves the same illustrative purpose as the youthful slave in the Menon:9 each is supposed to be quickened by the interrogatory of Sokrates, into a manifestation of knowledge noway expected, nor traceable to any teaching. But in the Menon, this magical evocation of knowledge from an untaught youth is explained by the theory of reminiscence, pre-existence, and omniscience, of the soul: while in the Euthydêmus, no allusion is made to any such theory, nor to any other cause except the stimulus of the Sokratic cross-questioning.

Wherein this contrast does not consist.

In the dialogue Euthydêmus, then, one main purpose of Plato is to exhibit in contrast two distinct modes of questioning: one practised by Euthydemus and Dionysodorus; the other, by Sokrates. Of these two, it is the first which is shown up in the most copious and elaborate manner: the second is made subordinate, serving mainly as a standard of comparison with the first. We must take care however to understand in what the contrast between the two consists, and in what it does not consist.

The contrast does not consist in this — that Sokrates so contrives his string of questions as to bring out some established and positive conclusion, while Euthydemus and his brother leave everything in perplexity. Such is not the fact. Sokrates ends without any result, and with a confession of his inability to find any. Professing earnest anxiety to stimulate Kleinias in the path of virtue, he is at the same time unable to define what the 199capital condition of virtue is.10 On this point, then, there is no contrast between Sokrates and his competitors: if they land their pupil in embarrassment, so does he. Nor, again, does Sokrates stand distinguished from them by affirming (or rather implying in his questions) nothing but what is true and indisputable.11

Wherein it does consist.

The real contrast between the competitors, consists, first in the pretensions — next in the method. The two Sophists are described as persons of exorbitant arrogance, professing to teach virtue,12 and claiming a fee as if they did teach it: Sokrates disdains the fee, doubts whether such teaching is possible, and professes only to encourage or help forward on the road a willing pupil. The pupil in this case is a given subject, Kleinias, a modest and intelligent youth: and the whole scene passes in public before an indiscriminate audience. To such a pupil, what is needed is, encouragement and guidance. Both of these are really administered by the questions of Sokrates, which are all suggestive and pertinent to the matter in hand, though failing to reach a satisfactory result: moreover, Sokrates attends only to Kleinias, and is indifferent to the effect on the audience around. The two Sophists, on the contrary, do not say a word pertinent to the object desired. Far from seeking (as they promised) to encourage Kleinias,13 they confuse and humiliate him from the beginning: all their implements for teaching consist only of logical puzzles; lastly, their main purpose is to elicit applause from the by-standers, by reducing both the modest Kleinias and every other respondent to contradiction and stand-still.

Abuse of fallacies by the Sophists — their bidding for the applause of the by-standers.

Such is the real contrast between Sokrates and the two Sophists, and such is the real scene which we read in the dialogue. The presence, as well as the loud manifestations of an indiscriminate crowd in the Lykeium, are essential features of the drama.14 The 200point of view which Plato is working out, is, the abusive employment, the excess, and the misplacement, of logical puzzles: which he brings before us as administered for the humiliation of a youth who requires opposite treatment, in the prosecution of an object which they do not really promote and before undiscerning auditors, for whose applause the two Sophists are bidding.15 The whole debate upon these fallacies is rendered ridiculous; and when conducted with Ktesippus, degenerates into wrangling and ribaldry.

Comparison of the Euthydêmus with the Parmenidês.

The bearing of the Euthydêmus, as I here state it, will be better understood if we contrast it with the Parmenidês. In this last-mentioned dialogue, the amount of negative dialectic and contradiction is greater and more serious than that which we read in the Euthydêmus. One single case of it is elaborately built up in the long Antinomies at the close of the Parmenidês (which occupy as much space, and contain nearly as much sophistry, as the speeches assigned to the two Sophists in Euthydêmus), while we are given to understand that many more remain behind.16 These perplexing Antinomies (addressed by the veteran Parmenides to Sokrates as his junior), after a variety of other objections against the Platonic theory of Ideas, which theory Sokrates has been introduced as affirming, — are drawn up for the avowed purpose of checking premature affirmation, and of illustrating the difficult exercises and problems which must be solved, before affirmation can become justifiable. This task, though long and laborious, cannot be evaded (we are here told) by aspirants in philosophy. But it is a task which ought only to be undertaken in conjunction with a few select companions. “Before any large audience, it would be unseemly and inadmissible: for the public are not aware that without such roundabout and devious journey in all directions, no man can hit upon truth or acquire intelligence.”17

201 Necessity of settling accounts with the negative, before we venture upon the affirmative, is common to both: in the one the process is solitary and serious; in the other, it is vulgarised and ludicrous.

This important proposition — That before a man can be entitled to lay down with confidence any affirmative theory, in the domain of philosophy or “reasoned truth,” he must have had before him the various knots tied by negative dialectic, and must find out the way of untying them — is a postulate which lies at the bottom of Plato’s Dialogues of Search, as I have remarked in the eighth chapter of this work. But there is much difference in the time, manner, and circumstances, under which such knots are brought before the student for solution. In the Parmenidês the process is presented as one both serious and indispensable, yet requiring some precautions: the public must be excluded, for they do not understand the purpose: and the student under examination must be one who is competent or more than competent to bear the heavy burthen put upon him, as Sokrates is represented to be in the Parmenidês.18 In the Euthydêmus, on the contrary, the process is intended to be made ridiculous; accordingly these precautions are disregarded. The crowd of indiscriminate auditors are not only present, but are the persons whose feelings the two Sophists address — and who either admire what is said as dexterous legerdemain, or laugh at the interchange of thrusts, as the duel becomes warmer: in fact, the debate ends with general mirth, in which the couple themselves are among the loudest.19 Lastly, Kleinias, the youth under interrogation, is a modest novice; not represented, like Lysis in the dialogue just reviewed, as in danger of corruption from the exorbitant flatteries of an Erastes, nor as requiring a lowering medicine to be administered by a judicious friend. When the Xenophontic (historical) Sokrates cross-examines and humiliates Euthydêmus (a youth, but nevertheless more advanced than Kleinias in the Platonic Euthydêmus is represented to be), we shall see that he not only lays a train for the process by antecedent suggestions, but takes especial care to attack Euthydêmus when alone.20 The cross-examination 202pursued by Sokrates inflicts upon this accomplished young man the severest distress and humiliation, and would have been utterly intolerable, if there had been by-standers clapping their hands (as we read in the Platonic Euthydêmus) whenever the respondent was driven into a corner. We see that it was hardly tolerable even when the respondent was alone with Sokrates; for though Euthydêmus bore up against the temporary suffering, cultivated the society of Sokrates, and was handled by him more gently afterwards; yet there were many other youths whom Sokrates cross-examined in the same way, and who suffered so much humiliation from the first solitary colloquy, that they never again came near him (so Xenophon expressly tells us)21 for a second. This is quite enough to show us how important is the injunction delivered in the Platonic Parmenidês — to carry on these testing colloquies apart from indiscriminate auditors, in the presence, at most, of a few select companions.

Opinion of Stallbaum and other critics about the Euthydêmus, that Euthydêmus and Dionysodorus represent the way in which Protagoras and Gorgias talked to their auditors.

Stallbaum, Steinhart, and other commentators denounce in severe terms the Eristics or controversial Sophists of Athens, as disciples of Protagoras and Gorgias, infected with the mania of questioning and disputing every thing, and thereby corrupting the minds of youth. They tell us that Sokrates was the constant enemy of this school, but that nevertheless he was unjustly confounded with them by the comic poets, and others; from which confusion alone his unpopularity with the Athenian people arose.22 In the Platonic dialogue of Euthydêmus the two Sophists (according to these commentators) represent the way in which Protagoras and Gorgias with their disciples reasoned: and the purpose of the dialogue is to contrast this with the way in which Sokrates reasoned.

That opinion is unfounded. Sokrates was much more Eristic than Protagoras, who generally manifested himself by continuous speech or lecture.

Now, in this opinion, I think that there is much of unfounded assumption, as well as a misconception of the real contrast intended in the Platonic Euthydêmus. Comparing203 Protagoras with Sokrates, I maintain that Sokrates was decidedly the more Eristic of the two, and left behind him a greater number of active disciples. In so far as we can trust the picture given by Plato in the dialogue called Protagoras, we learn that the Sophist of that name chiefly manifested himself in long continuous speeches or rhetoric; and though he also professed, if required, to enter into dialectic colloquy, in this art he was no match for Sokrates.23 Moreover, we know by the evidence of Sokrates himself, that he was an Eristic not only by taste, but on principle, and by a sense of duty. He tells us, in the Platonic Apology, that he felt himself under a divine mission to go about convicting men of ignorance, and that he had prosecuted this vocation throughout many years of a long life. Every one of these convictions must have been brought about by one or more disputes of his own seeking: every such dispute, with occasional exceptions, made him unpopular, in the outset at least, with the person convicted: the rather, as his ability in the process is known, upon the testimony of Xenophon24 as well as of Plato, to have been consummate. It is therefore a mistake to decry Protagoras and the Protagoreans (if there were any) as the special Eristics, and to represent Sokrates as a tutelary genius, the opponent of such habits. If the commentators are right (which I do not think they are) in declaring the Athenian mind to have been perverted by Eristic, Sokrates is much more chargeable with the mischief than Protagoras. And the comic poets, when they treated Sokrates as a specimen and teacher of Eristic, proceeded very naturally upon what they actually saw or heard of him.25

Sokrates in the Euthydêmus is drawn suitably to the purpose of that dialogue.

The fact is, that the Platonic Sokrates when he talks with the two Sophists in the dialogue Euthydêmus, is a character drawn by Plato for the purpose of that dialogue, and is very different from the real historical Sokrates, 204whom the public of Athens saw and heard in the market-place or gymnasia. He is depicted as a gentle, soothing, encouraging talker, with his claws drawn in, and affecting inability even to hold his own against the two Sophists: such indeed as he sometimes may have been in conversing with particular persons (so Xenophon26 takes pains to remind his readers in the Memorabilia), but with entire elimination of that characteristic aggressive Elenchus for which he himself (in the Platonic Apology) takes credit, and which the auditors usually heard him exhibit.

The two Sophists in the Euthydêmus are not to be taken as real persons, or representatives of real persons.

This picture, accurate or not, suited the dramatic scheme of the Euthydêmus. Such, in my judgment, is the value and meaning of the Euthydêmus, as far as regards personal contrasts. One style of reasoning is represented by Sokrates, the other by the two Sophists: both are the creatures of Plato, having the same dramatic reality as Sokrates and Strepsiades, or the Δίκαιος Λόγος and Ἄδικος Λόγος, of Aristophanes, but no more. That they correspond to any actual persons at Athens, is neither proved nor probable. The comic poets introduce Sokrates as talking what was either nonsensical, or offensive to the feelings of the Athenians: and Sokrates (in the Platonic Apology) complains that the Dikasts judged him, not according to what he had really said or done, but according to the impression made on them by this dramatic picture. The Athenian Sophists would have equal right to complain of those critics, who not only speak of Euthydêmus and Dionysodorus with a degree of acrimony applicable only to historical persons, but also describe them as representative types of Protagoras, Gorgias, and their disciples.27

Colloquy of Sokrates with Kleinias — possession of good things is useless, unless we also have intelligence how to use them.

The conversation of Sokrates with the youth Kleinias is 205remarkable for its plainness and simplicity. His purpose is to implant or inflame in the youth the aspiration and effort towards wisdom or knowledge (φιλοσοφία, in its etymological sense). “You, like every one else, wish to do well or to be happy. The way to be happy is, to have many good things. Every one knows this: every one knows too, that among these good things, wealth is an indisputable item:28 likewise health, beauty, bodily activity, good birth, power over others, honour in our city, temperance, justice, courage, wisdom, &c. Good fortune does not count as a distinct item, because it resolves itself into wisdom.29 — But it is not enough to have all these good things: we must not only have them but use them: moreover, we must use them not wrongly, but rightly. If we use them wrongly, they will not produce their appropriate consequences. They will even make us more miserable than if we had them not, because the possession of them will prompt us to be active and meddlesome: whereas, if we have them not, we shall keep in the back-ground and do little.30 But to use these good things rightly, depends upon wisdom, knowledge, intelligence. It thus appears that the enumerated items are not really good, except on the assumption that they are under the guidance of intelligence: if they are under the guidance of ignorance, they are not good; nay, they even produce more harm than good, since they are active instruments in the service of a foolish master.31

But intelligence — of what? It must be such intelligence, or such an art, as will include both the making of what we want, and the right use of it when made.

“But what intelligence do we want for the purpose? Is it all intelligence? Or is there any one single variety of intelligence, by the possession of which we shall become good and happy?32 Obviously, it must be must be such as will be profitable to us.33 We have seen that 206there is no good in possessing wealth — that we should gain nothing by knowing how to acquire wealth or even to turn stones into gold, unless we at the same time knew how to use it rightly. Nor should we gain any thing by knowing how to make ourselves healthy, or even immortal, unless we knew how to employ rightly our health or immortality. We want knowledge or intelligence, of such a nature, as to include both acting, making, or construction and rightly using what we have done, made, or constructed.34 The makers of lyres and flutes may be men of skill, but they cannot play upon the instruments which they have made: the logographers compose fine discourses, but hand them over for others to deliver. Even masters in the most distinguished arts — such as military commanders, geometers, arithmeticians, astronomers, &c., do not come up to our requirement. They are all of them varieties under the general class hunters: they find and seize, but hand over what they have seized for others to use. The hunter, when he has caught or killed game, hands it over to the cook; the general, when he has taken a town, delivers it to the political leader or minister: the geometer makes over his theorems to be employed by the dialectician or comprehensive philosopher.35

Where is such an art to be found? The regal or political art looks like it; but what does this art do for us? No answer can be found. Ends in puzzle.

“Where then can we find such an art — such a variety of knowledge or intelligence — as we are seeking? The regal or political art looks like it: that art which regulates and enforces all the arrangements of the city. But what is the work which this art performs? What product does it yield, as the medical art supplies good health, and the farmer’s art, provision? What good does it effect? You may say that it makes the citizens wealthy, free, harmonious in their intercourse. But we have already seen that these acquisitions are not good, unless they be under the guidance of intelligence: that nothing is really good, except some variety of intelligence.36 Does the regal art then confer knowledge? If 207so, does it confer every variety of knowledge — that of the carpenter, currier, &c., as well as others? Not certainly any of these, for we have already settled that they are in themselves neither good nor bad. The regal art can thus impart no knowledge except itself; and what is itself? how are we to use it? If we say, that we shall render other men good — the question again recurs, Good — in what respect? useful — for what purpose?37

“Here then” (concludes Sokrates), “we come to a dead lock: we can find no issue.38 We cannot discover what the regal art does for us or gives us: yet this is the art which is to make us happy.” In this difficulty, Sokrates turns to the two Sophists, and implores their help. The contrast between him and them is thus brought out.

Review of the cross-examination just pursued by Sokrates. It is very suggestive — puts the mind upon what to look for.

The argument of Sokrates, which I have thus abridged from the Euthydêmus, arrives at no solution: but it is nevertheless eminently suggestive, and puts the question in a way to receive solution. What is the regal or political art which directs or regulates all others? A man has many different impulses, dispositions, qualities, aptitudes, advantages, possessions, &c., which we describe by saying that he is an artist, a general, a tradesman, clever, just, temperate, brave, strong, rich, powerful, &c. But in the course of life, each particular situation has its different exigencies, while the prospective future has its exigencies also. The whole man is one, with all these distinct and sometimes conflicting attributes: in following one impulse, he must resist others — in turning his aptitudes to one object, he must turn them away from others — he must, as Plato says, distinguish the right use of his force from the wrong, by virtue of knowledge, intelligence, reason. Such discriminating intelligence, which in this dialogue is called the Regal or political art, — what is the object of it? It is intelligence or knowledge, — But of what? Not certainly of the way how each particular act is to be performed — how each particular end is to be attained. 208Each of these separately is the object of some special knowledge. But the whole of a man’s life is passed in a series of such particular acts, each of which is the object of some special knowledge: what then remains as the object of Regal or political intelligence, upon which our happiness is said to depend? Or how can it have any object at all?

Comparison with other dialogues — Republic, Philêbus, Protagoras. The only distinct answer is found in the Protagoras.

The question here raised is present to Plato’s mind in other dialogues, and occurs under other words, as for example, What is good? Good is the object of the Regal or political intelligence; but what is Good? In the Republic he raises this question, but declines to answer it, confessing that he could not make it intelligible to his hearers:39 in the Gorgias, he takes pains to tell us what it is not: in the Philêbus, he does indeed tell us what it is, but in terms which need explanation quite as much as the term which they are brought to explain. There is only one dialogue in which the question is answered affirmatively, in clear and unmistakable language, and with considerable development — and that is, the Protagoras: where Sokrates asserts and proves at length, that Good is at the bottom identical with pleasure, and Evil with pain: that the measuring or calculating intelligence is the truly regal art of life, upon which the attainment of Good depends: and that the object of that intelligence — the items which we are to measure, calculate, and compare — is pleasures and pains, so as to secure to ourselves as much as possible of the former, and escape as much as possible of the latter.

In my remarks on the Protagoras, I shall state the view which I take of the doctrine laid down in that dialogue by Sokrates. Persons may think the answer insufficient: most of the Platonic critics declare it to be absolutely wrong. But at any rate it is the only distinct answer which Plato ever gives, to the question raised by Sokrates in the Euthydêmus and elsewhere.

The talk of the two Sophists, though ironically admired while it is going on, is shown at the end to produce no real admiration, but the contrary.

From the abstract just given of the argument of Sokrates in the Euthydêmus, it will be seen to be serious and pertinent, though ending with a confession of failure. The observations placed in contrast with it and 209ascribed to the two Sophists, are distinguished by being neither serious nor pertinent; but parodies of debate for the most part, put together for the express purpose of appearing obviously silly to the reader. Plato keeps up the dramatic or ironical appearance, that they are admired and welcomed not only by the hearers, but even by Sokrates himself. Nevertheless, it is made clear at the end that all this is nothing but irony, and that the talk which Plato ascribes to Euthydêmus and Dionysodorus produced, according to his own showing, no sentiment of esteem for their abilities among the by-standers, but quite the reverse. Whether there were individual Sophists at Athens who talked in that style, we can neither affirm nor deny: but that there were an established class of persons who did so, and made both money and reputation by it, we can securely deny. It is the more surprising that the Platonic commentators should desire us to regard Euthydêmus and Dionysodorus as representative samples of a special class named Sophists, since one of the most eminent of those commentators (Stallbaum),40 both admits that Sokrates himself was generally numbered in the class and called by the name and affirms also (incorrectly, in my opinion) that the interrogations of Sokrates, which in this dialogue stand contrasted with those of the two Sophists, do not enunciate the opinions either of Sokrates or of Plato himself, but the opinions of these very Sophists, which Plato adopts and utters for the occasion.41

210 Mistaken representations about the Sophists — Aristotle’s definition — no distinguishable line can be drawn between the Sophist and the Dialectician.

The received supposition that there were at Athens a class of men called Sophists who made money and reputation by obvious fallacies employed to bring about contradictions in dialogue — appears to me to pervert the representations given of ancient philosophy. Aristotle defines a Sophist to be “one who seeks to make money by apparent wisdom which is not real wisdom“:— the Sophist (he says) is an Eristic who, besides money-making, seeks for nothing but victory in debate and humiliation of his opponent:— Distinguishing the Dialectician from the Sophist (he says), the Dialectician impugns or defends, by probable arguments, probable tenets — that is, tenets which are believed by a numerous public or by a few wise and eminent individuals:— while the Sophist deals with tenets which are probable only in appearance and not in reality — that is to say, tenets which almost every one by the slightest attention recognises as false.42 This definition is founded, partly on the personal character and purpose ascribed to the Sophist: partly upon the distinction between apparent and real wisdom, assumed to be known and permanent. Now such pseudo-wisdom was declared by Sokrates to be the natural state of all mankind, even the most eminent, which it was his mission to expose: moreover, the determination, what is to be comprised in this description, must depend upon the 211judges to whom it is submitted, since much of the works of Aristotle and Plato would come under the category, in the judgment of modern readers both vulgar and instructed. But apart from this relative and variable character of the definition, when applied to philosophy generally — we may confidently assert, that there never was any real class of intellectual men, in a given time or place, to whom it could possibly apply. Of individuals, the varieties are innumerable: but no professional body of men ever acquired gain or celebrity by maintaining theses, and employing arguments, which every one could easily detect as false. Every man employs sophisms more or less; every man does so inadvertently, some do it by design also; moreover, almost every reasoner does it largely, in the estimation of his opponents. No distinct line can be drawn between the Sophist and the Dialectician: the definition given by Aristotle applies to an ideal in his own mind, but to no reality without: Protagoras and Prodikus no more correspond to it than Sokrates and Plato. Aristotle observes, with great truth, that all men are dialecticians and testers of reasoning, up to a certain point: he might have added that they are all Sophists also, up to a certain point.43 Moreover, when he attempts to found a scientific classification of intellectual processes upon a difference in the purposes of different practitioners — whether they employ the same process for money or display, or beneficence, or mental satisfaction to themselves — this is altogether unphilosophical. The medical art is the same, whether employed to advise gratis, or in exchange for a fee.44

Philosophical purpose of the Euthydêmus — exposure of fallacies, in Plato’s dramatic manner, by multiplication of particular examples.

Though I maintain that no class of professional Sophists (in the meaning given to that term by the Platonic critics after Plato and Aristotle) ever existed — and though the distinction between the paid and the gratuitous discourser is altogether unworthy to enter into the history of philosophy — yet I am not the less persuaded that the Platonic dialogue Euthydêmus, and the treatise of Aristotle De Sophisticis Elenchis, are very striking and useful compositions. This last-mentioned212 treatise was composed by Aristotle very much under the stimulus of the Platonic dialogue Euthydêmus, to which it refers several times — and for the purpose of distributing the variety of possible fallacies under a limited number of general heads, each described by its appropriate characteristic, and represented by its illustrative type. Such attempt at arrangement — one of the many valuable contributions of Aristotle to the theory of reasoning — is expressly claimed by him as his own. He takes a just pride in having been the first to introduce system where none had introduced it before.45 No such system was known to Plato, who (in the Euthydêmus) enumerates a string of fallacies one after another without any project of classifying them, and who presents them as it were in concrete, as applied by certain disputants in an imaginary dialogue. The purpose is, to make these fallacies appear conspicuously in their character of fallacies: a purpose which is assisted by presenting the propounders of them as ridiculous and contemptible. The lively fancy of Plato attaches suitable accessories to Euthydêmus and Dionysodorus. They are old men, who have been all their lives engaged in teaching rhetoric and tactics, but have recently taken to dialectic, and acquired perfect mastery thereof without any trouble — who make extravagant promises — and who as talkers play into each other’s hands, making a shuttlecock of the respondent, a modest novice every way unsuitable for such treatment.

Aristotle (Soph. Elench.) attempts a classification of fallacies: Plato enumerates them without classification.

Thus different is the Platonic manner, from the Aristotelian manner, of exposing fallacies. But those exhibited in the former appear as members of one or more among the classes framed by the latter. The fallacies which we read in the Euthydêmus are chiefly verbal: but some are verbal, and something beyond.

Fallacies of equivocation propounded by the two Sophists in the Euthydêmus.

Thus, for example, if we take the first sophism introduced by the two exhibitors, upon which they bring the youth Kleinias, by suitable questions, to declare successively both sides of the alternative — “Which of the two is it that learns, the wise or the 213ignorant?” — Sokrates himself elucidates it by pointing out that the terms used are equivocal:46 You might answer it by using the language ascribed to Dionysodorus in another part of this dialogue — “Neither and Both”.47 The like may be said about the fallacy in page 284 D — “Are there persons who speak of things as they are? Good men speak of things as they are: they speak of good men well, of bad men badly: therefore, of course, they speak of stout men stoutly, and of hot men hotly. Ay! rejoins the respondent Ktesippus, angrily — they speak of cold men coldly, and say that they talk coldly.”48 These are fallacies of double meaning of words — or double construction of phrases: as we read also in page 287 D, where the same Greek verb (νοεῖν) may be construed either to think or to mean: so that when Sokrates talks about what a predication means — the Sophists ask him — “Does anything think, except things having a soul? Did you ever know any predication that had a soul?”

Fallacies — à dicto secundum quid, ad dictum simpliciter — in the Euthydêmus.

Again, the two Sophists undertake to prove that Sokrates, as well as the youth Kleinias and indeed every one else, knows everything. “Can any existing thing be that which it is, and at the same time not be that which it is? — No. — You know some things? — Yes. — Then if you know, you are knowing? — Certainly. I am knowing of those particular things. — That makes no difference: if you are knowing, you necessarily know everything. — Oh! no: for there are many things which I do not know. — Then if there be anything which you do not know, you are not knowing? — Yes, doubtless — of that particular thing. — Still you are not knowing: and just now you said that you were knowing: and thus, at one and the same time, you are what you are, and you are not what you are.49

“But you also” (retorts Sokrates upon the couple), “do not 214you also know some things, not know others? — By no means. — What! do you know nothing? — Far from it. — Then you know all things? — Certainly we do, — and you too: if you know one thing, you know all things. — What! do you know the art of the carpenter, the currier, the cobbler — the number of stars in the heaven, and of grains of sand in the desert, &c.? — Yes: we know all these things.”

Obstinacy shown by the two Sophists in their replies — determination not to contradict themselves.

The two Sophists maintain their consistency by making reply in the affirmative to each of these successive questions: though Ktesippus pushes them hard by enquiries as to a string of mean and diverse specialties.50 This is one of the purposes of the dialogue: to represent the two Sophists as willing to answer any thing, however obviously wrong and false, for the purpose of avoiding defeat in the dispute — as using their best efforts to preserve themselves in the position of questioners, and to evade the position of respondents — and as exacting a categorical answer — Yes or No — to every question which they put without any qualifying words, and without any assurance that the meaning of the question was understood.51

The base of these fallacious inferences is, That respecting the same subject, you cannot both affirm and deny the same predicate: you cannot say, A is knowing — A is not knowing (ἐπιστήμων). This is a fallacy more than verbal: it is recognised by Aristotle (and by all subsequent logicians) under the name — à dicto secundum quid, ad dictum simpliciter.

It is very certain that this fallacy is often inadvertently committed by very competent reasoners, including both Plato and Aristotle.

Farther verbal equivocations.

Again — Sophroniskus was my father — Chæredemus was the father of Patrokles. — Then Sophroniskus was different from a father: therefore he was not a father. You are different from a stone, therefore you are not a stone: you are different from gold, therefore you are not gold. By parity of reasoning, Sophroniskus is different from a father — therefore he is not a father. Accordingly, you, Sokrates, have no father.52

215But (retorts Ktesippus upon the couple) your father is different from my father. — Not at all. — How can that be? — What! is your father, then, the father of all men and of all animals? — Certainly he is. A man cannot be at the same time a father, and not a father. He cannot be at the same time a man, and not a man — gold, and not gold.53

You have got a dog (Euthydêmus says to Ktesippus). — Yes. — The dog is the father of puppies? — Yes. — The dog, being a father, is yours? — Certainly. — Then your father is a dog, and you are brother of the puppies.

You beat your dog sometimes? Then you beat your father.54

Those animals, and those alone are yours (sheep, oxen, &c.), which you can give away, or sell, or sacrifice at pleasure. But Zeus, Apollo, and Athênê are your Gods. The Gods have a soul and are animals. Therefore your Gods are your animals. Now you told us that those alone were your animals, which you could give away, or sell, or sacrifice at pleasure. Therefore you can give away, or sell, or sacrifice at pleasure, Zeus, Apollo, and Athênê.55

This fallacy depends upon the double and equivocal meaning of yours — one of its different explanations being treated as if it were the only one.

Fallacies involving deeper logical principles — contradiction is impossible. — To speak falsely is impossible.

Other puzzles cited in this dialogue go deeper:— Contradiction is impossible — To speak falsely is impossible.56 These paradoxes were maintained by Antisthenes and others, and appear to have been matters of dialectic debate throughout the fourth and third centuries. I shall say more of them when I speak about the Megarics and Antisthenes. Here I only note, that in this dialogue, Ktesippus is represented as put to silence by them, and Sokrates as making an answer which is no answer at all.57 We see how much trouble these paradoxes gave 216to Plato, when we read the Sophistês, in which he handles the last of the two in a manner elaborate, but (to my judgment) unsatisfactory.

Plato’s Euthydêmus is the earliest known attempt to set out and expose fallacies — the only way of exposing fallacies is to exemplify the fallacy by particular cases, in which the conclusion proved is known aliunde to be false and absurd.

The Euthydêmus of Plato is memorable in the history of philosophy as the earliest known attempt to set out, and exhibit to attention, a string of fallacious modes of reasoning. Plato makes them all absurd and ridiculous. He gives a caricature of a dialectic debate, not unworthy of his namesake Plato Comicus — or of Aristophanes, Swift, or Voltaire. The sophisms appear for the most part so silly, as he puts them, that the reader asks himself how any one could have been ever imposed upon by such a palpable delusion? Yet such confidence is by no means justified. A sophism, perfectly analogous in character to those which Plato here exposes to ridicule, may, in another case, easily escape detection from the hearer, and even from the reasoner himself. People are constantly misled by fallacies arising from the same word bearing two senses, from double construction of the same phrase, from unconscious application of a dictum secundum quid, as if it were a dictum simpliciter; from Petitio Principii, &c., Ignoratio Elenchi, &c. Neither Plato himself, nor Aristotle, can boast of escaping them.58 If these fallacies appear, in the examples chosen by Plato for the Euthydêmus, so obviously inconclusive that they can deceive no one — the reason lies not in the premisses themselves, but in the particular conclusions to which they lead: which conclusions are known on other grounds to be false, and never to be seriously maintainable by any person. Such conclusions as — “Sokrates had no father: Sophroniskus, if father of Sokrates, was father of all men and all animals: In beating your dog, you beat your father: If you know one thing, you know everything,” &c., being known aliunde to be false, prove that there has been some fallacy in the premisses whereby they have been established. Such cases serve as a reductio ad absurdum of the antecedent process.217 They make us aware of one mode of liability to error, and put us on our guard against it in analogous cases. This is a valuable service, and all the more valuable, because the liability to error is real and widespread, even from fallacies perfectly analogous to those which seem so silly under the particular exemplifications which Plato selects and exposes. Many of the illustrations of the Platonic Euthydêmus are reproduced by Aristotle in the Treatise de Sophisticis Elenchis, together with other fallacies, discriminated with a certain method and system.59

Mistake of supposing fallacies to have been invented and propagated by Athenian Sophists — they are inherent inadvertencies and liabilities to error, in the ordinary process of thinking. Formal debate affords the best means of correcting them.

The true character of these fallacies is very generally overlooked by the Platonic critics, in their appreciation of the Euthydêmus; when they point our attention to the supposed tricks and frauds of the persons whom they called Sophists, as well as to mischievous corruptions alleged to arise from Eristic or formal contentious debate. These critics speak as if they thought that such fallacies were the special inventions of Athenian Sophists for the purposes of Athenian Eristic: as if such causes of error were inoperative on persons of ordinary honesty or intelligence, who never consulted or heard the Sophists. It has been the practice of writers on logic, from Aristotle down to Whately, to represent logical fallacies as frauds devised and maintained by dishonest practitioners, whose art Whately assimilates to that of jugglers.

This view of the case appears to me incomplete and misleading. It substitutes the rare and accidental in place of the constant and essential. The various sophisms, of which Plato in the Euthydêmus gives the reductio ad absurdum, are not the inventions of Sophists. They are erroneous tendencies of the reasoning process, frequently incident to human thought and speech: specimens of those ever-renewed “inadvertencies of ordinary thinking” (to recur to a phrase cited in my preface), which it is the peculiar mission of philosophy or “reasoned truth” to rectify. Moreover the practice of formal debate, which is usually denounced with so much asperity — if it affords on some occasions opportunity to produce such fallacies, presents not merely equal opportunity, but the only effective means, for exposing and confuting218 them. Whately in his Logic,60 like Plato in the Euthydêmus, when bringing these fallacies into open daylight in order that every one may detect them, may enliven the theme by presenting them as the deliberate tricks of a Sophist. Doubtless they are so by accident: yet their essential character is that of infirmities incident to the intellectus sibi permissus: operative at Athens before Athenian Sophists existed, and in other regions also, where these persons never penetrated.

Wide-spread prevalence of erroneous belief, misguided by one or other of these fallacies, attested by Sokrates, Plato, Bacon, &c., — complete enumeration of heads of fallacies by Mill.

The wide diffusion and constant prevalence of such infirmities is attested not less by Sokrates in his last speech, wherein he declares real want of knowledge and false persuasion of knowledge, to be universal, the mission of his life being to expose them, though he could not correct them — than by Bacon in his reformatory projects, where he enumerates the various Idola worshipped by the human intellect, and the false tendencies acquired “in primâ digestione mentis“. The psychological analysis of the sentiment of belief with its different sources, given in Mr. Alexander Bain’s work on the Emotions and the Will, shows how this takes place; and exhibits true or sound belief, in so far as it ever is acquired, as an acquisition only attained after expulsion of earlier antecedent error.61 Of such error, and 219of the different ways in which apparent evidence is mistaken for real evidence, a comprehensive philosophical exposition is farther given by Mr. John Stuart Mill, in the fifth book of his System of Logic, devoted to the subject of Fallacies. Every variety of erroneous procedure is referable to some one or more of the general heads of Fallacy there enumerated. It is the Fallacies of Ratiocination, of which the two Sophists, in the Platonic Euthydêmus, are made to exhibit specimens: and when we regard such Fallacies, as one branch among several in a complete logical scheme, we shall see at once that they are not inventions of the Athenian Sophists — still less inventions for the purpose of Eristic or formal debate. For every one of these Fallacies is of a nature to ensnare men, and even to ensnare them more easily, in the common, informal, conversation of life — or in their separate thoughts. Besides mistakes on matters of fact, the two main 220causes which promote the success and encourage the multiplication of Fallacies generally, are first, the emotional bias towards particular conclusions, which disposes persons to accept any apparent evidence, favourable to such conclusion, as if it, were real evidence: next, the careless and elliptical character of common speech, in which some parts of the evidence are merely insinuated, and other parts altogether left out. It is this last circumstance which gives occasion to the very extensive class of Fallacies called by Mr. Mill Fallacies of Confusion: a class so large, that the greater number of Fallacies might plausibly be brought under it.62

221 Value of formal debate as a means for testing and confuting fallacies.

We thus see not only that the fallacious agencies are self-operative, generating their own weeds in the common soil of human thought and speech, without being planted by Athenian Sophists or watered by Eristic — but that this very Eristic affords the best means of restraining their diffusion. It is only in formal debate that the disputant can be forced to make clear to himself and declare explicitly to others, without reserve or omission, all the premisses upon which his conclusion rests — that every part of these premisses becomes liable to immediate challenge by an opponent — that the question comes distinctly under consideration, what is or is not sufficient evidence — that the premisses of one argument can be compared with the premisses of another, so that if in the former you are tempted to acquiesce in them as sufficient because you have a bias favourable to the conclusion, in the latter you may be made to feel that they are insufficient, because the conclusion which they prove is one which you know to be untrue (reductio ad absurdum). The habit of formal debate (called by those who do not like it, Eristic63) is thus an indispensable condition both for the exposure and confutation of fallacies, which exist quite independent of that habit — owing their rise and prevalence to deep-seated psychological causes.

Without the habit of formal debate, Plato could not have composed his Euthydêmus, nor Aristotle the treatise De Sophisticis Elenchis.

Without the experience acquired by this habit of dialectic debate at Athens, Plato could not have composed his Euthydêmus, exhibiting a reductio ad absurdum of several verbal fallacies — nor could we have had the 222logical theories of Aristotle, embodied in the Analytica and Topica with its annexed treatise De Sophisticis Elenchis, in which various fallacies are discriminated and classified. These theories, and the corollaries connected with them, do infinite honour to the comprehensive intellect of Aristotle: but he could not have conceived them without previous study of the ratiocinative process. He, as the first theorizer, must have had before him abundant arguments explicitly laid out, and contested, or open to be contested, at every step by an opponent.64 Towards such habit of formal argumentation, a strong repugnance was felt by many of the Athenian public, as there is among modern readers generally: but those who felt thus, had probably little interest in the speculations either of Plato or of Aristotle. That the Platonic critics should themselves feel this same repugnance, seems to me not consistent with their admiration for the great dialectician and logician of antiquity: nor can I at all subscribe to their view, when they present to us the inherent infirmities of the human intellect as factitious distempers generated by the habit of formal debate, and by the rapacity of Protagoras, Prodikus, and others.

Probable popularity of the Euthydêmus at Athens — welcomed by all the enemies of Dialectic.

I think it probable that the dialogue of Euthydêmus, as far as the point to which I have brought it (i.e., where Sokrates finishes his recital to Kriton of the conversation which he had had with the two Sophists), was among the most popular of all the Platonic dialogues: not merely because of its dramatic vivacity and charm of expression, but because it would be heartily welcomed by the numerous enemies of Dialectic at Athens. We must remember that in the estimation of most persons at Athens, Dialectic included Sokrates and all the viri Sokratici (Plato among them), just as much as the persons called Sophists. The discreditable picture here given of Euthydêmus and Dionysodorus, would be considered as telling against Dialectic and the Sokratic Elenchus generally: while the rhetors, and others who dealt in long continuous discourse, would treat it as a blow 223inflicted upon the rival art of dialogue, by the professor of the dialogue himself. In Plato’s view, the dialogue was the special and appropriate manifestation of philosophy.

Epilogue of Plato to the Dialogue, trying to obviate this inference by opponents — Conversation between Sokrates and Kriton.

That the natural effect of the picture here drawn by Plato, was, to justify the antipathy of those who hated philosophy — we may see by the epilogue which Plato has thought fit to annex: an epilogue so little in harmony with what has preceded, that we might almost imagine it to be an afterthought — yet obviously intended to protect philosophy against imputations. Sokrates having concluded the recital, in his ironical way, by saying that he intended to become a pupil under the two Sophists, and by inviting Kriton to be a pupil along with him — Kriton replies by saying that he is anxious to obtain instruction from any one who can give it, but that he has no sympathy with Euthydêmus, and would rather be refuted by him, than learn from him to refute in such a manner. Kriton proceeds to report to Sokrates the remarks of a by-stander (an able writer of discourses for the Dikastery) who had heard all that passed; and who expressed his surprise that Sokrates could have remained so long listening to such nonsense, and manifesting so much deference for a couple of foolish men. Nevertheless (continued the by-stander) this couple are among the most powerful talkers of the day upon philosophy. This shows you how worthless a thing philosophy is: prodigious fuss, with contemptible result — men careless what they say, and carping at every word that they hear.65

Now, Sokrates (concludes Kriton), this man is wrong for depreciating philosophy, and all others who depreciate it are wrong also. But he was right in blaming you, for disputing with such a couple before a large crowd.

Sokr. — What kind of person is this censor of philosophy? Is he a powerful speaker himself in the Dikastery? Or is he only a composer of discourses to be spoken by others? Krit. — The latter. I do not think that he has ever spoken in court: but every one says that he knows judicial practice well, and that he composes admirable speeches.66

224 Altered tone in speaking of Euthydêmus — Disparagement of persons half-philosophers, half-politicians.

Sokr. — I understand the man. He belongs to that class whom Prodikus describes as the border-men between philosophy and politics. Persons of this class account themselves the wisest of mankind, and think farther that besides being such in reality, they are also admired as such by many: insomuch that the admiration for them would be universal, if it were not for the professors of philosophy. Accordingly they fancy, that if they could once discredit these philosophers, the prize of glory would be awarded to themselves, without controversy, by every one: they being in truth the wisest men in society, though liable, if ever they are caught in dialectic debate, to be overpowered and humbled by men like Euthydêmus.67 They have very plausible grounds for believing in their own wisdom, since they pursue both philosophy and politics to a moderate extent, as far as propriety enjoins; and thus pluck the fruit of wisdom without encountering either dangers or contests. Krit. — What do you say to their reasoning, Sokrates? It seems to me specious. Sokr. — Yes, it is specious, but not well founded. You cannot easily persuade them, though nevertheless it is true, that men who take a line mid-way between two pursuits, are better than either, if both pursuits be bad — worse than either, if both pursuits be good, but tending to different ends — better than one and worse than the other, if one of the pursuits be bad and the other good — better than both, if both be bad, but tending to different ends. Such being the case, if the pursuit of philosophy and that of active politics be both of them good, but tending to different objects, these men are inferior to the pursuers of one as well as of the other: if one be good, the other bad, they are worse than the pursuers of the former, better than the pursuers of the latter: if both be bad, they are better than either. Now I am sure that these men themselves account both philosophy and politics to be good. Accordingly, they are inferior both to philosophers and politicians:68 they occupy only the third rank, though they pretend to be in the first. While 225we pardon such a pretension, and refrain from judging these men severely, we must nevertheless recognise them for such as they really are. We must be content with every one, who announces any scheme of life, whatever it be, coming within the limits of intelligence, and who pursues his work with persevering resolution.69

Kriton asks Sokrates for advice about the education of his sons — Sokrates cannot recommend a teacher — tells him to search for himself.

Krit. I am always telling you, Sokrates, that I too am embarrassed where to seek instructors for my sons. Conversation with you has satisfied me, that it is madness to bestow so much care upon the fortune and position of sons, and so little upon their instruction. Yet when I turn my eyes to the men who make profession of instructing, I am really astonished. To tell you the truth, every one of them appears to me extravagantly absurd,70 so that I know not how to help forward my son towards philosophy. Sokr. — Don’t you know, Kriton, that in every different pursuit, most of the professors are foolish and worthless, and that a few only are excellent and above price? Is not this the case with gymnastic, commercial business, rhetoric, military command? Are not most of those who undertake these pursuits ridiculously silly?71 Krit. — Unquestionably: nothing can be more true. Sokr. — Do you think that a sufficient reason for avoiding all these pursuits yourself, and keeping your son out of them also? Krit. No: it would be wrong to do so. Sokr. — Well then, don’t do so. Take no heed about the professors of philosophy, whether they are good or bad; but test philosophy itself, well and carefully. If it shall appear to you worthless, dissuade not merely your sons, but every one else also, from following it.72 But if it shall appear to you as valuable as I consider it to be, then take courage to pursue and practise it, you and your children both, according to the proverb. —

226 Euthydêmus is here cited as representative of Dialectic and philosophy.

The first part of this epilogue, which I have here given in abridgment, has a bearing very different from the rest of the dialogue, and different also from most of the other Platonic dialogues. In the epilogue, Euthydêmus is cited as the representative of true dialectic and philosophy: the opponents of philosophy are represented as afraid of being put down by Euthydêmus: whereas, previously, he had been depicted as contemptible, — as a man whose manner of refuting opponents was more discreditable to himself than to the opponent refuted; and who had no chance of success except among hearers like himself. We are not here told that Euthydêmus was a bad specimen of philosophers, and that there were others better, by the standard of whom philosophy ought to be judged. On the contrary, we find him here announced by Sokrates as among those dreaded by men adverse to philosophy, — and as not undeserving of that epithet which the semi-philosopher cited by Kriton applies to “one of the most powerful champions of the day”.

Plato, therefore, after having applied his great dramatic talent to make dialectic debate ridiculous, and thus said much to gratify its enemies — changes his battery, and says something against these enemies, without reflecting whether it is consistent or no with what had preceded. Before the close, however, he comes again into consistency with the tone of the earlier part, in the observation which he assigns to Kriton, that most of the professors of philosophy are worthless; to which Sokrates rejoins that this is not less true of all other professions. The concluding inference is, that philosophy is to be judged, not by its professors but by itself; and that Kriton must examine it for himself, and either pursue it or leave it alone, according as his own convictions dictated.

This is a valuable admonition, and worthy of Sokrates, laying full stress as it does upon the conscientious conviction which the person examining may form for himself. But it is no answer to the question of Kriton; who says that he had already heard from Sokrates, and was himself convinced, that philosophy was of first-rate importance — and that he only desired to learn where he could find teachers to forward the progress of his son in it. As in so many other dialogues, Plato leaves the problem started, but 227unsolved. The impulse towards philosophy being assured, those who feel it ask Plato in what direction they are to move towards it. He gives no answer. He can neither perform the service himself, nor recommend any one else, as competent. We shall find such silence made matter of pointed animadversion, in the fragment called Kleitophon.

Who is the person here intended by Plato, half-philosopher, half-politician? Is it Isokrates?

The person, whom Kriton here brings forward as the censor of Sokrates and the enemy of philosophy, is peculiarly marked. In general, the persons whom Plato ranks as enemies of philosophy are the rhetors and politicians: but the example here chosen is not comprised in either of these classes: it is a semi-philosopher, yet a writer of discourses for others. Schleiermacher, Heindorf, and Spengel, suppose that Isokrates is the person intended: Winckelmann thinks it is Thrasymachus: others refer it to Lysias, or Theodorus of Byzantium:73 Socher and Stallbaum doubt whether any special person is intended, or any thing beyond some supposed representative of a class described by attributes. I rather agree with those who refer the passage to Isokrates. He might naturally be described as one steering a middle course between philosophy and rhetoric: which in fact he himself proclaims in the Oration De Permutatione, and which agrees with the language of Plato in the dialogue Phædrus, where Isokrates is mentioned by name along with Lysias. In the Phædrus, moreover, Plato speaks of Isokrates with unusual esteem, especially as a favourable contrast with Lysias, and as a person who, though not yet a philosopher, may be expected to improve, so as in no long time to deserve that appellation.74 We 228must remember that Plato in the Phædrus attacks by name, and with considerable asperity, first Lysias, next Theodorus and Thrasymachus the rhetors — all three persons living and of note. Being sure to offend all these, Plato might well feel disposed to avoid making an enemy of Isokrates at the same time, and to except him honourably by name from the vulgar professors of rhetoric. In the Euthydêmus (where the satire is directed not against the rhetors, but against their competitors the dialecticians or pseudo-dialecticians) he had no similar motive to address compliments to Isokrates: respecting whom he speaks in a manner probably more conformable to his real sentiments, as the unnamed representative of a certain type of character — a semi-philosopher, fancying himself among the first men in Athens, and assuming unwarrantable superiority over the genuine philosopher; but entitled to nothing more than a decent measure of esteem, such as belonged to sincere mediocrity of intelligence.

Variable feeling at different times, between Plato and Isokrates.

That there prevailed at different times different sentiments, more or less of reciprocal esteem or reciprocal jealousy, between Plato and Isokrates, ought not to be matter of surprise. Both of them were celebrated teachers of Athens, each in his own manner, during the last forty years of Plato’s life: both of them enjoyed the favour of foreign princes, and received pupils from outlying, sometimes distant, cities — from Bosphorus and Cyprus in the East, and from Sicily in the West. We know moreover that during the years immediately preceding Plato’s death (347 B.C.), his pupil Aristotle, then rising into importance as a teacher of rhetoric, was engaged in acrimonious literary warfare, seemingly 229of his own seeking, with Isokrates (then advanced in years) and some of the Isokratean pupils. The little which we learn concerning the literary and philosophical world of Athens, represents it as much distracted by feuds and jealousies. Isokrates on his part has in his compositions various passages which appear to allude (no name being mentioned) to Plato among others, in a tone of depreciation.75

Isokrates seems, as far as we can make out, to have been in early life, like Lysias, a composer of speeches to be spoken by clients in the Dikastery. This lucrative profession was tempting, since his family had been nearly ruined during the misfortunes of Athens at the close of the Peloponnesian war. Having gained reputation by such means, Isokrates became in his mature age a teacher of Rhetoric, and a composer of discourses, not for private use by clients, but for the general reader, on political or educational topics. In this character, he corresponded to the description given by Plato in the Euthydêmus: being partly a public adviser, partly a philosopher. But the general principle under which Plato here attacks him, though conforming to the doctrine of the Platonic Republic, is contrary to that of Plato in other dialogues, “You must devote yourself either wholly to philosophy, or wholly to politics: a mixture of the two is worse than either“ — this agrees with the Republic, wherein Plato enjoins upon each man one special and exclusive pursuit, as well as with the doctrine maintained against Kalliklês in the Gorgias — but it differs from the Phædrus, where he ascribes the excellence of Perikles as a statesmen and rhetor, to the fact of his having acquired a large tincture of philosophy.76 Cicero quotes this last passage as applicable to his own distinguished career, a combination of philosophy with politics.77 He dissented altogether from the doctrine here laid down by Plato in the Euthydêmus, and many other eminent men would have dissented from it also.

As a doctrine of universal application, in fact, it cannot be 230defended. The opposite scheme of life (which is maintained by Isokrates in De Permutatione and by Kalliklês in the Platonic Gorgias)78 — that philosophy is to be attentively studied in the earlier years of life as an intellectual training, to arm the mind with knowledge and capacities which may afterwards be applied to the active duties of life — is at least equally defensible, and suits better for other minds of a very high order. Not only Xenophon and other distinguished Greeks, but also most of the best Roman citizens, held the opinion which Plato in the Gorgias ascribes to Kalliklês and reprobates through the organ of Sokrates — That philosophical study, if prolonged beyond what was necessary for this purpose of adequate intellectual training, and if made the permanent occupation of life, was more hurtful than beneficial.79 Certainly, a man may often fail in the attempt to combine philosophy with active politics. No one failed in such a career more lamentably than Dion, the friend of Plato — and Plato himself, when he visited Sicily to second Dion. Moreover Alkibiadês and Kritias were cited by Anytus and the other accusers of Sokrates as examples of the like mischievous conjunction. But on the other hand, Archytas at Tarentum (another friend of Plato and philosopher) administered his native city with success, as long (seemingly) as Periklês administered Athens. Such men as these two are nowise inferior either to the special 231philosopher or to the special politician. Plato has laid down an untenable generality, in this passage of the Euthydêmus, in order to suit a particular point which he wished to make against Isokrates, or against the semi-philosopher indicated, whoever else he may have been.

[END OF CHAPTER XXI]

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