The Greater Hippias — Plato
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ΙΠΠΙΑΣ ΜΕΓΑΣ
Translation/edition: Floyer Sydenham, ed. Thomas Taylor (1804)
Language: English
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## The Greater Hippias¹

[281a] Socrates: Hippias, the fine² and the wise! what a long time it is since last you touched³ at Athens! hip. [281b] It is because I have not had leisure⁴, Socrates. For the Eleans, you are to know, whenever they have any public affairs to negotiate with any of the neighbouring cities, constantly apply to me, and appoint me their ambassador for that purpose, in preference to all others: because they consider me as a person the ablest to form a right judgment of what is argued and alleged by every one of the cities, and to make a proper report of it to them. My embassies⁵, therefore, have been frequent to many of those powers; but oftenest, and upon points the most in number, as well as of the highest importance, have I gone to Sparta to treat with the Lacedæmonians. This is the reason, then, in answer to your question, why so seldom I visit these parts.
[281c] Socrates: This it is, Hippias, to be a man truly wise and perfectly accomplished. For, being thus qualified, you have, in your private⁶ capacity, great presents made you by the young men of the age; and are able to make them ample amends by the greater advantages which they derive from you: then, in your public character, you are able to do service to your country, as a man ought who would raise himself above contempt, and acquire reputation among the multitude. But, Hippias, what sort of reason can be given, why those in former days, who are so highly famed for wisdom, Pittacus, and Bias, and Thales the Milesian, with his disciples, successors, and followers, down to Anaxagoras, if not all, yet most of them, are found to have lived the lives of private men, declining to engage in public affairs?
[281d] Hippias: What other reason, Socrates, can you imagine beside this, that they had not a sufficient reach of prudence for the conduct of their own private affairs, and those of the public at the same time?
[281e] Socrates: Tell me then, in the name of Jupiter, whether, as all other arts are improved, and the workmen of former times are contemptible and mean in comparison with ours, shall we say that your art, that of the Sophists, hath in like manner received improvement; and that such of the antients as applied themselves to the study of wisdom were nothing, compared to you of the present age?
[282a] Hippias: Perfectly right: that is the very case.
[282a] Socrates: So that, were Bias to be restored to life again in our days, he would be liable to ridicule, appearing in competition with you Sophists: your case being parallel to that of our modern statuaries, who tell us that Dædalus, were he alive, and to execute such works as those to which he owed his great name, would but expose himself, and become ridiculous.
[282a] Hippias: The truth of the matter, Socrates, exactly is what you say. I myself, however, make it my custom to bestow my commendations rather upon the antients, and upon all such as flourished in times precedent to our own; giving them the preeminence and precedence⁷ above ourselves; in order to escape the envy of the living, and for fear of incurring the resentment of the dead⁸.
[282b] Socrates: In my opinion, Hippias, you see the matter in a just light, and consider it thoroughly well. I myself can witness the truth of what you say. It is indeed certain, that your art is in this respect really improved, in that you are able to manage the concerns of the public, and at the same time give attention to your own private interests. For Gorgias⁹, that great sophist of Leontium, came hither on a public embassy from his country, as the ablest man among the Leontines to negotiate their affairs of state: and here he acquired glory by his fine harangues in the assembly of the people; at the same time that by his exhibitions before private companies¹⁰, and his teaching our young men, he collected and raised very considerable sums of money from this city. Or, if you would have another instance, there is my own friend, the famous Prodicus¹¹; [282c] who has frequently been sent hither on several public embassies: but the last time, not long since, when he came as ambassador from Ceos, his speeches before the council gained him great honour; and his private exhibitions in the mean time, together with the tuition of our young men, procured him an immense heap of money. But not one of those antient sages ever thought proper to exact money by way of fee or reward for his teaching; or ever took it into his head to display his wisdom before a mixed multitude. So simple were they, and so much a secret was it to them, how valuable a thing was money. Whereas each of the others, whom I mentioned, has made more money of his wisdom, than any other artificer¹² could ever earn from any art whatever: and prior to these Protagoras did the same.
[282d] Hippias: You know nothing, Socrates, of what high advantages belong to our profession. If you knew but how great have been my own gains, you would be amazed. To give you only one instance: Going upon a certain time to Sicily, where Protagoras then resided, high in reputation and reverend in years; I, though at that time in age greatly his inferior, gained in a very short time more than a hundred and fifty minas¹³: nay, from one place only, and that a very little one, Inycum, I took above twenty¹⁴. This when I brought home with me, and presented to my father, it struck him and my other friends in the city with wonder and astonishment. To say the truth, I am inclined to think, that not any two of the sophists, name which you please, taken together, have acquired so much money as myself.
[282d] Socrates: A fair and [283a] a notable evidence have you produced, Hippias, proving not only your own wisdom, but how wise the world, too, is become now-a-days; and what difference there is between the modern wisdom and the antient in point of excellence. For of these predecessors of yours there is reported great folly, according to your account of things¹⁵. To Anaxagoras, for instance, it is said, happened the contrary of that lucky fate which befel you. For, when great wealth had been left him, he through negligence, they say, lost it all: so silly was he with his wisdom. And of other antient sages they relate stories of the same kind. A clear proof, I think, therefore, this which you exhibit, in what a wise age we live; and what disproportion the wisdom of it bears to that of former times. Many too, I know, are agreed in this opinion, that a wise man ought, in the first place, to be wise to himself. Now the standard of this kind of wisdom is, it seems, he who can get the most money. But so much for this. And now tell me, as to your own gains, from which of the cities whither you have travelled did you collect the largest sums? Undoubtedly it must have been from Sparta, whither you have gone the oftenest.
[283a] Hippias: Not from thence, Socrates, by Jupiter.
[283b] Socrates: How say you? What, the least sum from thence?
[283b] Hippias: Never any thing at all.
[283b] Socrates: It is a prodigy what you relate: [283c] and I am amazed at it, Hippias. But tell me, as to that wisdom of yours, has it not the power to improve in virtuous excellence all your followers who are conversant with it, and will learn?
[283d] Hippias: In the highest degree, Socrates.
[283d] Socrates: Were you able then to improve the sons of the Inycians, yet wanted such ability with regard to the sons of Sparta?
[283d] Hippias: Far from it.
[283d] Socrates: The Sicilians then, I warrant, have a desire of virtuous improvement; but the Spartans not so.
[283d] Hippias: Strongly so, Socrates, have the Spartans.
[283d] Socrates: Was their want of money then the reason why they followed you not?
[283d] Hippias: By no means; for of money they have plenty.
[283d] Socrates: What account then can be given in such a case as this, when they were desirous of improvement, and in no want of money to purchase it; and you able to furnish them with the highest degrees of it; why they did not send you away loaded with riches? What; certainly the reason of it cannot be this, that the Spartans can educate their sons in a better manner than you could educate them? Or shall we say they can? and do you admit this to be true?
[283e] Hippias: By no means in the world.
[283e] Socrates: Were you not able then to persuade the young men at Sparta that, by the help of your conversation, they might make greater advances in virtue than ever they could hope to do from the company and converse of their fathers? Or could you not persuade those fathers that they would do better to commit the instruction of their sons to your management, than to undertake that care themselves, if they had any affectionate regard for their offspring? For it could not be that they envied their children the attainment of the highest excellence in virtue.
[283e] Hippias: I have no suspicion of their envying them such an attainment.
[283e] Socrates: Well now; and Sparta is really governed by good laws.
[284a] Hippias: Who makes a doubt of it?
[284a] Socrates: Very well; and in cities governed by good laws the highest value is set on virtue.
[284a] Hippias: Certainly.
[284a] Socrates: And how to teach virtue to others you know best of all men.
[284a] Hippias: By much, Socrates.
[284a] Socrates: Now the man who knows best how to teach and impart to others the art of horsemanship, of all countries in Greece would not such a man meet with most honour, and acquire most wealth, in Thessaly¹⁶, and where-ever else this art was cultivated most?
[284a] Hippias: It is probable he would.
[284a] Socrates: And will not the man who is capable of delivering the most valuable instructions with regard to virtue, meet with most honour, and pick up most money too, if he be that way inclined, in Sparta, and every other Grecian city governed by good laws? But in Sicily¹⁷, my friend, rather do you suppose, or at Inycum? Ought we, Hippias, to give credit to this? for, if you say it, we must believe.
[284b] Hippias: The truth is, Socrates, that the Spartans hold it sacred¹⁸ to make no innovation in their laws; and to educate their youth in no other way than what is agreeable to their antient usages¹⁹.
[284c] Socrates: How say you? Do the Spartans hold it sacred not to do what is right, but to do the contrary?
[284c] Hippias: I would not say any such thing, not I, Socrates.
[284c] Socrates: Would not they do right then to educate their sons in the better way, and not in the worse?
[284c] Hippias: It is true they would: but the laws do not permit them to have their youth educated by foreigners, or after a foreign mode²⁰. For, be assured, if any foreigner ever acquired wealth at Sparta by teaching or instructing their youth, much more so should I; since they take great pleasure in hearing my dissertations, and give me high encomiums: but in the affair of education, the law, as I said, does not permit them the benefit of my instructions.
[284d] Socrates: The law, Hippias, do you suppose mischievous to the public, or beneficial?
[284d] Hippias: It is instituted, I presume, for the benefit of the public: but sometimes, where the frame of the law is bad, it proves a public mischief.
[284e] Socrates: Well; but do not legislators always frame the law with a view of procuring for the public the greatest good? and because without law it were impossible to live in a state of order and good government.
[284e] Hippias: Without doubt, they do.
[284e] Socrates: When those, therefore, who undertake the making laws fail of procuring good, they have missed their end, and erred from good government and law. Or how say you otherwise?
[284e] Hippias: Accurately speaking, Socrates, I must own the thing is so; but men are not used to affix such a meaning to the word law.
[284e] Socrates: Do you speak of men who know what law means, or of men who want that knowledge?
[284e] Hippias: I speak of the bulk of mankind, the multitude.
[284e] Socrates: Are these such as know the truth of things, this multitude?
[284e] Hippias: Certainly not.
[284e] Socrates: But those who have that knowledge, the wise, hold that which is more beneficial, to be in reality, and according to the truth of things, more a law to all men than what is less beneficial. Do not you agree with them in this?
[284e] Hippias: I agree that in reality so it is.
[284e] Socrates: Is not the nature and the condition of every thing such as those hold it to be who are really knowing in the thing?
[285a] Hippias: Undoubtedly.
[285a] Socrates: Now to the Spartans, you say, an education under you a foreigner, and after a foreign manner, would be more beneficial than to be educated after the manner of their own country.
[285a] Hippias: And I say what is true.
[285a] Socrates: And that which is more beneficial is more a law. This you say likewise, Hippias.
[285a] Hippias: I have admitted it so to be.
[285a] Socrates: According, therefore, to your account, to have the sons of the Spartans educated under Hippias, is more agreeable to law; and their education under their fathers is more repugnant to law; supposing that from you they would receive advantages really greater.
[285a] Hippias: And so indeed would they, Socrates.
[285a] Socrates: Now from hence it follows, that the Spartans violate the law in not making you presents of money, and committing their sons to your care.
[285b] Hippias: Be it so: for you seem to argue thus in my favour; and it is not my business to controvert your argument.
[285c] Socrates: Violators of the law then, my friend, we find these Spartans, and that in the most important article too; these, who are thought to be the greatest observers of it. But, in the name of the Gods, Hippias, of what kind are those dissertations for which they give you those high encomiums? and upon what topics do they take that great pleasure in hearing you harangue? No doubt, they must be the same in which you have so much excellent knowledge; those which relate to the stars and the phænomena of the sky.
[285c] Hippias: They by no means endure to hear a word upon these subjects²¹.
[285c] Socrates: But they take pleasure in hearing a lecture upon the subject of geometry.
[285c] Hippias: Not at all: for many of the Spartans know not even the common rules of arithmetic; nay, scarcely, I may say, how to reckon.
[285c] Socrates: They are far from enduring then to hear you discourse on the nature of numbers and accounts.
[285c] Hippias: Very far from that, by Jupiter.
[285c] Socrates: The subjects, then, I warrant you, are those upon which you are able to dissert, divide, and distinguish, with the greatest accuracy of all men; concerning the power of letters and syllables, of harmonies and rhythms²².
[285d] Hippias: What harmonies, or what letters, my good man, do they concern themselves about?
[285d] Socrates: Well; what are the subjects, then, upon which they attend to you with so much pleasure to themselves, and so much commendation of you? Tell me yourself, since I cannot find it out.
[285e] Hippias: Concerning the genealogies, O Socrates, of the heroes and of men; concerning the migration of tribes, and settling of colonies; the antiquity and first foundation of cities; in a word, concerning every thing in antient story, they hearken to me with the utmost pleasure. So that I have been obliged to study those things myself for their sakes, and to perfect myself in all that sort of knowledge.
[285e] Socrates: By Jupiter, Hippias, it was fortunate for you that the Spartans take no pleasure in hearing a man reckon up our archons from the time of Solon²³. For, if they did, the perfecting yourself in such a catalogue would put you to no little trouble.
[285e] Hippias: Why so, Socrates? Upon hearing fifty names repeated only once, I will undertake to remember them.
[286a] Socrates: It is true; but I did not consider that you had an excellent memory. So now I conceive the reason why, in all probability, the Spartans are delighted with you: it is because you know such a multitude of things, and are of the same use to them that old women are to children, to entertain them with the recital of pretty fables and old stories.
[286b] Hippias: And by Jupiter, Socrates, upon a manly subject too, that of beauty in manners. For, discoursing there lately of a complete rule of manners becoming a young man, I gained much applause. And I take this opportunity to inform you, that I have a dissertation upon this subject extremely beautiful, finely framed in every respect, but particularly admirable for the choice of words²⁴. The occasion, or way of introducing my discourse, is this:—After the taking of Troy, Neoptolemus is supposed to ask advice of Nestor, and to inquire of him, what course of life a young man ought to follow in order to acquire renown and glory. Upon this Nestor speaks, and lays down a great many excellent precepts concerning the beauty of manners and a well-regulated life. This²⁵ dissertation I exhibited at Sparta; and three days hence am to exhibit the same here at Athens, in the school of Phidostratus, together with several other pieces of mine worth the hearing. I do it at the request of Eudicus, the son of Apemantes. You will not fail, I hope, being present at it yourself, and bringing others with you to be of the audience, such as are capable judges of performances of this kind.
[286c] Socrates: We shall do so, Hippias; if so it please God. But at present answer me a short question relating to your dissertation. For you have happily reminded me. You must know, my friend, that a certain person puzzled me lately in a conversation we had together²⁶—after I had been inveighing against some things for their baseness and deformity, and praising some other things for their excellence and beauty—by attacking me with these questions in a very insolent manner.—“Whence came you, Socrates, said he, to know what things are beautiful, and what are otherwise? [286d] For can you tell me, now, what the beautiful is?” I, through the meanness of my knowledge, found myself at a loss, and had nothing to answer him with any propriety. So, quitting his company, I grew angry with myself, reproached myself, and threatened that, as soon as ever I could meet with any one of you wise men, I would hear what he had to say upon the subject, and learn and study it thoroughly; and, that done, would return to my questioner, and battle the point with him over again. Now, therefore, as I said, you are come happily for me. Give me ample information then accordingly concerning the nature of the beautiful itself: and endeavour to be as accurate as possible in your answers to what I shall ask you; that I may not be confuted a second time, and deservedly again laughed at. For you understand the question, no doubt, perfectly well. To you such a piece of knowledge can be but a little one, amongst the multitude of those which you are master of.
[286e] Hippias: Little enough, by Jupiter, Socrates; and scarcely of any value at all.
[286e] Socrates: The more easily then shall I learn it; and not be confuted or puzzled any more upon that point by any man.
[287a] Hippias: Not by any man. For otherwise would my skill be mean, and nothing beyond vulgar attainment.
[287a] Socrates: It will be a brave thing, by Juno, Hippias, to get the better of the man, as you promise me we shall. But shall I be any obstacle to the victory if I imitate his manner, and, after you have answered some question of mine, make objections to your answer; for the sake only of more thorough information from you? for I have a tolerable share of experience in the practice of making objections. If it be no difference therefore to you, I should be glad to have the part of an objector allowed me, in order to be made a better master of the subject.
[287b] Hippias: Take the part of an objector, then: for, as I said just now, it is no very knotty point, that which you inquire about. I could teach you to answer questions much more difficult than this, in such a manner that none should ever be able to refute you.
[287b] Socrates: O rare! what good news you tell me! [287c] But come, since you bid me yourself, I will put myself in the place of my antagonist, try to be what he is, to the best of my power, and in his person begin to question you. Now, if he were of the audience, when you exhibited that dissertation which you talk of, concerning the beauty of manners, after he had heard it through, and you had done speaking, this point rather than any other would be uppermost in his mind to question you upon, this relating to the beautiful: for he has a certain habit of so doing; and thus would he introduce it.— “Elean stranger! I would ask you, whether it is not by having honesty that honest men are honest?” Answer now, Hippias, as if he proposed the question.
[287c] Hippias: I shall answer—It is by their having honesty.
[287d] Socrates: Is not this some certain thing then, this honesty?
[287d] Hippias: Clearly so.
[287d] Socrates: And is it not likewise by their having wisdom that wise men are wise? and by having good in them that all good things are good?
[287d] Hippias: Without dispute.
[287d] Socrates: And are not these some certain real things²⁷? for they are not surely non-entities, by whose intimate presence with other things those things are what they are.
[287d] Hippias: Undoubtedly, real things.
[287d] Socrates: I ask you then, whether all things which are beautiful are not in like manner beautiful by their having beauty?
[287d] Hippias: They are, by their having beauty.
[287e] Socrates: Some certain real thing, this beauty.
[287e] Hippias: A real thing. But what is to come of all this?
[287e] Socrates: Tell me now, friend stranger, will he say, what this thing is, this beauty, or the beautiful.
[287e] Hippias: Does not the proposer of this question desire to have it told him, what is beautiful?
[287e] Socrates: I think not, Hippias: but to have it told him what the beautiful is.
[287e] Hippias: How does this differ from that?
[287e] Socrates: Do you think there is no difference between them?
[287e] Hippias: There is not any.
[287e] Socrates: You certainly know better. Observe²⁸, my good friend, what the question is. For he asks you, not what is beautiful, but what is the beautiful.
[287e] Hippias: I apprehend you, honest friend. And to that question, What is the beautiful? I shall give an answer, such a one as can never be confuted. For be assured, Socrates, if the truth must be told, a beautiful maiden is the thing beautiful.
[288a] Socrates: An excellent answer, by the dog²⁹, Hippias; and such a one as cannot fail of being applauded. Shall I then, in answering thus, have answered the question asked me? and that so well as not to be refuted?
[288a] Hippias: How should you be refuted, Socrates, in avowing that which is the opinion of all the world; and the truth of which all who hear you will attest?
[288a] Socrates: Be it so then, by all means. But now, Hippias, let me alone to resume the question, with your answer to it, by myself. The man will interrogate me after this manner: “Answer me, Socrates, and tell me, if there be any such thing as the beautiful itself³⁰, to whose presence is owing the beauty of all those things which you call beautiful³¹?” Then shall I answer him thus: “A beautiful maiden is that beautiful, to whose presence those other things owe their beauty³².”
[288b] Hippias: Well. And do you imagine, after this, that he will ever think of refuting you? or attempt to prove your answer concerning the thing beautiful not a just answer? or, if he should attempt it, that he would not be ridiculous?
[288b] Socrates: That he will attempt it, friend, I am well assured: but whether in so doing he will be ridiculous, will appear in the attempt itself. However, I’ll tell you what he will say.
[288b] Hippias: Tell me then.
[288c] Socrates: “How pleasant you are, Socrates!” he will say. “Is not a beautiful mare then a thing beautiful? commended as such even by the divine oracle³³.” What shall we answer, Hippias? Shall we not acknowledge, that a mare is beautiful likewise? meaning a beautiful mare. For, indeed, how should we dare deny that a beautiful thing is beautiful?
[288c] Hippias: True, Socrates. And no doubt the God rightly gave that commendation: for with us, too, there are mares exceedingly beautiful³⁴.
[288d] Socrates: “Very well now,” will he say: “but what, is not a beautiful lyre too a thing beautiful?” Shall we allow it, Hippias?
[288d] Hippias: Certainly.
[288d] Socrates: After this he will say, (for with tolerable certainty I can guess he will, from my knowledge of his character,) “But what think you of a beautiful soup-pan, you simpleton you? is not that a thing beautiful then?”
[288d] Hippias: Who is this man, Socrates? I warrant, some unmannerly and ill-bred fellow, to dare to mention things so mean and contemptible, upon a subject so noble and so respectable.
[288e] Socrates: Such is the man, Hippias; not nice and delicate; but a mean shabby fellow, without consideration or regard for aught except this, in every inquiry,—What is true?—The man, however, must have an answer: and in order to it, I thus premise—If the pan be made by a good workman, smooth and round, and well-baked; like some of our handsome soup-pans with two handles, those which hold six coas³⁵, exceedingly beautiful in truth; if he mean such a pan as these are, the pan must must be confessed beautiful. For how, indeed, could we deny that to be beautiful which has real beauty?
[288e] Hippias: By no means, Socrates.
[288e] Socrates: “Is not a beautiful soup-pan, then,” he will say, “a thing beautiful? Answer.”
[288e] Hippias: Well then, Socrates, my opinion of the case is this: Even this vessel, if well and handsomely made, is a beautiful thing likewise. But nothing of this kind deserves to be mentioned as beautiful, when we are speaking of a mare, and a maiden, or any other thing thus admirable for its beauty.
[289a] Socrates: So; now I apprehend you, Hippias. When the man asks such a question as that, we are thus, it seems, to answer him:—“Honest man! are you ignorant how it was said well by Heraclitus, ‘that the most beautiful ape, in comparison with the human³⁶ kind, is a creature far from beautiful?’ Just so, the most beautiful soup-pan is a thing far from beautiful in comparison with the maiden kind; as it is said by Hippias the wise.” Is it not thus, Hippias, that we must answer?
[289a] Hippias: By all means, Socrates: your answer is perfectly right.
[289b] Socrates: Mind me now: for upon this, I am well assured, he will say to me thus:—“But suppose, Socrates, the maiden kind were to be set in comparison with the Goddess kind; would not the same accident befall the maidens in that case, which happened to the soup-pans compared with them? Would not the fairest maiden appear far from being beautiful? Does not Heraclitus further teach this very doctrine, which you yourself must needs infer to be true³⁷, that the wisest of men, compared with a God, will appear an ape in wisdom and beauty and every other excellence³⁸?” Shall we own, Hippias, the fairest maiden far from beautiful, in comparison with a Goddess?
[289b] Hippias: Who, Socrates, would presume to call this in question?
[289b] Socrates: No sooner then shall I have agreed with him in this, than he will laugh at me, and say, “Do you remember, Socrates, what question you was asked?”—“I do,” I shall tell him; “it was this: What kind of thing was the beautiful itself?”—“When the question then,” he will say, “concerned the beautiful itself, your answer was concerning that which happens to be far from beautiful, according to your own confession, as beautiful as it is.”— “So it seems,” shall I say? Or what other reply, my friend, do you advise me to make him?
[289c] Hippias: I think, for my part, you must reply in those very words. For³⁹, when he says that the human kind compared with the divine is far from beautiful, without doubt he will have the truth on his side.
[289d] Socrates: “But were I to have asked you at first this question,” will he say, ‘What is beautiful, and at the same time far from beautiful?’ and you were to have answered me in the manner you did; would not you in that case have answered rightly? And does the beautiful then itself, by which every other thing is ornamented, and looks beautiful, whenever this form of beauty supervenes and invests it, imparting thus the virtue of its presence,—does this still appear to you to be a maiden, or a mare, or a lyre?”
[289e] Hippias: Truly, Socrates, if this be the question which he asks, it is the easiest thing imaginable to answer it; and to tell him what that beautiful thing is, by which other things are ornamented; and which, by supervening and investing them, makes them look beautiful. So that he must be a very simple fellow, and entirely a stranger to things elegant and fine. For, if you only answer him thus, “that the beautiful, which he inquires after, is nothing else than gold,” he will have no more to say, nor attempt ever to refute such an answer. Because none of us can be insensible that, wherever gold be applied or superinduced, let the thing have looked ever so vile and sordid before, yet then it will look beautiful, when it is invested or ornamented with gold.
[290a] Socrates: You have no experience of the man, Hippias, how unyielding he is, and how hard in admitting any assertion.
[290a] Hippias: What signifies that, Socrates? He must of necessity admit what is rightly asserted; or, in not admitting it, expose himself to ridicule.
[290a] Socrates: And yet will he be so far from admitting this answer, my friend, that he will treat me with open derision, and say to me, “You that are so puffed up with the opinion of your own skill and knowledge, do you think Phidias was a bad workman?” And I believe I shall answer, that he was far from being so.
[290a] Hippias: You will answer rightly, Socrates.
[290b] Socrates: Rightly, without dispute. But he, when I have agreed with him that Phidias was a good workman, will say, “Do you imagine, then, that Phidias was ignorant of that which you call the beautiful?”—“To what purpose do you ask this?” I shall say.—“Because Minerva’s eyes,” will he reply, “Phidias made not of gold, nor yet the rest of her face; nor the feet, nor the hands neither: though she would have looked handsomest, it seems, had she been a golden Goddess: but he made these all of ivory⁴⁰. It is evident that he committed this error through ignorance; not knowing that gold it was which beautified all things, wherever it was applied.” When he talks after this manner, what answer shall we make him, Hippias?
[290b] Hippias: There is no difficulty at all in the matter. We shall answer, “Phidias was in the right; for things made of ivory are also, as I presume, beautiful.”
[290c] Socrates: “What was the reason, then,” will he say, “why Phidias made not the pupil of the eyes out of ivory, but out of stone rather? choosing for that purpose such stone as (in colour) most resembled ivory. Is a beautiful stone then a thing beautiful too?” Shall we admit it so to be, Hippias?
[290c] Hippias: We will; in a place where the stone is becoming.
[290c] Socrates: But, where it is unbecoming, shall I allow it to be unhandsome, or not?
[290c] Hippias: Allow it; where the stone becomes not the place.
[290c] Socrates: “Well now; and is it not the same with ivory and gold, you wise man you?” will he say. “Do not these, where they are becoming, make things appear handsome; but far otherwise where they are unbecoming?” Shall we deny this, or acknowledge the man to be in the right?
[290d] Hippias: We must acknowledge this, that whatever is becoming to any thing makes it appear handsome.
[290d] Socrates: Upon this, he will say thus: “When that fine soup-pan, then, which we have been speaking of, is set upon the stove full of excellent soup⁴¹, whether is a golden spoon the most becoming and proper for it, or a sycamore spoon?”
[290d] Hippias: Hercules! what a strange sort of man, Socrates, is he whom you are talking of! Will you not tell me who he is?
[290e] Socrates: Should I tell you his name, you would not know him.
[290e] Hippias: But I know already that he is some ignorant silly fellow.
[291a] Socrates: He is a very troublesome questioner indeed, Hippias. But, however, what shall we answer? Which of the two spoons shall we say is most becoming and proper for the soup and for the pan? Is it not clearly the sycamore⁴² spoon? For this gives a better scent and flavour to the soup; and at the same time, my friend, it would not break the pan, and spill the soup, and put out the fire, and, when the guests were come prepared for feasting, rob them of an excellent dish. But all these mischiefs would be done by that golden spoon. We must, I think, therefore, answer, that the sycamore spoon is more becoming and proper in this case than the golden spoon: unless you say otherwise.
[291a] Hippias: Well, Socrates; more becoming and proper be it then: but, for my part, I would not hold discourse with a fellow who asked such sort of questions.
[291b] Socrates: Right, my dear friend. For it would not be becoming or proper for you to be bespattered with such vile dirty words, so finely dressed⁴³ as you are from top to toe, and so illustrious for wisdom through all Greece. But for me—it is nothing to dirty⁴⁴ myself against the man. Give me my lesson, therefore, what I am to say; and answer in my name. For the man now will say thus: “If the sycamore spoon then be more becoming and proper than the golden one, must it not be handsomer?”
[291b] Hippias: Yes. Since the proper and becoming, Socrates, you have granted to be handsomer than the improper and unbecoming.
[291b] Socrates: What, Hippias; and shall we grant him too, that the sycamore spoon has more beauty in it than the golden spoon?
[291b] Hippias: Shall I tell you, Socrates, what you shall say the beautiful is, so as to prevent him from all further cavilling and disputing?
[291c] Socrates: By all means: but not before you tell me whether of the two spoons we have been talking of is the most beautiful, as well as the most proper and becoming.
[291c] Hippias: Well then; if it pleases you, answer him, “It is that made of the sycamore tree.”
[291c] Socrates: Now say what you was just going to say. For this answer, in which I pronounce gold to be the beautiful, will be refuted; and gold will be demonstrated, I find, not to be at all more beautiful than sycamore wood. But what, say you, is the beautiful now?
[291d] Hippias: I will tell you. For when you ask me, “What is the beautiful?” you would have me, I perceive, give you for answer something which shall never, in any place, or to any person, appear otherwise than beautiful.
[291d] Socrates: By all means, Hippias. And now you apprehend me perfectly well. But observe what I say: Be assured, that if any man shall be able to controvert our new answer, I shall vow never more to praise any thing for its beauty. Now in the name of the Gods proceed, and tell it me without delay.
[291d] Hippias: I say then, that always, and to every person, and in every place it will appear the most beautiful, lovely, and desirable thing in the world, to be rich, healthy, honoured by his country, to arrive at a good old age, to give his parents an honourable burial, and at length to have the last offices performed for himself honourably and magnificently by his own issue.
[291e] Socrates: O brave! O rare! How admirable, how great, and how worthy of yourself, Hippias, is the speech you have now spoken! By Juno, I receive with much pleasure that hearty willingness of yours to give me all the assistance in your power. But we reach not the point yet. For now will the man laugh at us more than ever, you may be assured.
[291e] Hippias: An ill-timed laugh, Socrates. For in laughing, when he has nothing to object, he will in reality laugh only at himself; and be the ridicule of all who happen to be present.
[292a] Socrates: Perhaps so. But perhaps, also, as soon as I have thus answered, I shall be in danger, if I prophesy aright, of something besides the being laught at.
[292a] Hippias: What besides?
[292a] Socrates: That, if he happens to have a cane in his hand, unless I run away and escape him, he will aim some very serious strokes at me.
[292b] Hippias: How say you? What, is the man some master of yours then? for, otherwise, would he not be punished for the injury done you? Or, is there no justice in your city? but the citizens are permitted to assault and beat one another injuriously.
[292b] Socrates: By no means are they permitted to do any such thing.
[292b] Hippias: Will he not, therefore, be condemned to punishment, as having beaten you injuriously?
[292b] Socrates: I should think he would not, Hippias; not having beaten me injuriously if I had made him such an answer; but very deservedly, as it seems to me.
[292b] Hippias: It seems so then to me, Socrates; if you are of that opinion yourself.
[292b] Socrates: Shall I tell you, why, in my own opinion, I should have deserved a beating, if I had so answered?—Will you condemn me too without trying the cause? or will you hear what I have to say?
[292c] Hippias: It would be a hard case indeed, Socrates, should I deny you a hearing. But what have you to say then?
[292d] Socrates: I will tell you; but in the same way as I talked with you just now, assuming his character, whilst you personate me. I shall do this, to avoid treating you in your own person with such language as he will use in reprimanding me, with harsh and out-of-the-way terms. For I assure you that he will say thus:—“Tell me, Socrates; think you not that you deserve a beating, for having sung that pompous strain, so foreign to the design of the music; spoiling thus the harmony, and wandering wide of the point proposed to you?”—“How so?” I shall ask him.—“How?” he will reply: “can you not remember that I asked you concerning the beautiful itself, that which makes every thing beautiful, wherever it comes and imparts the virtue of its presence; whether it communicates it to stone or wood, to man or God, to actions and manners, or to any part of science. Beauty itself, man, I ask you what it is: and I can no more beat into your head what I say, than if you were a stone lying by my side, nay a mill-stone too, without ears or brains.” Now, Hippias, would not you be angry with me, if I, frightened with this reprimand, should say to him thus:—“Why, Hippias said, this was the beautiful; and I asked him, just as you ask me, what was beautiful to all persons, and at all times.”—What say you? will you not be angry if I tell him thus?
[292e] Hippias: That which I described, Socrates, is beautiful, I am very positive, in the eyes of all men⁴⁵.
[292e] Socrates: “And always will it be so?” he will say: “for the beautiful itself must be always beautiful.”
[292e] Hippias: To be sure.
[292e] Socrates: “And always was it so in former times?” he will say.
[292e] Hippias: It always was so.
[292e] Socrates: “What? and to Achilles too,” he will say, “did the Elean stranger affirm it was a beautiful and desirable thing to survive his progenitors? and that it was the same to his grandfather Æacus, and the rest of those who were the progeny of the Gods? nay, that it was so even to the Gods themselves?”
[293a] Hippias: What a fellow is this! Away with him⁴⁶! Such questions as these are profane, and improper to be asked.
[293a] Socrates: But is it not much more profane for any man, when these questions are asked him, to answer in the affirmative, and to maintain such propositions?
[293a] Hippias: Perhaps it is.
[293a] Socrates: “Perhaps then you are this man,” will he say, “who affirm it to be a thing always, and to every person, beautiful and desirable, to be buried by his descendents, and to bury his parents. Was not Hercules one of these very persons? and those whom we just now mentioned, are not they also to be included in the number?”
[293b] Hippias: But I did not affirm it was so to the Gods.
[293b] Socrates: Nor to the heroes, I presume.
[293b] Hippias: Not to such as were children of the Gods.
[293b] Socrates: But to such only as were not so.
[293b] Hippias: Right.
[293b] Socrates: Amongst the number of heroes then, it seems, according to your account, to Tantalus, and Dardanus, and Zethus, it would have been a sad thing, a horrible profanation of deity, to suppose it, and a fatal blow to their own honour; but to Pelops, and others born of men like him, it was a glorious thing, beautiful and desirable.
[293c] Hippias: So I think it to be.
[293c] Socrates: “You think this then to be true, the contrary of which you maintained just now,” will he say, “that to survive their ancestors, and to be buried by their descendants, is, in some cases⁴⁷, and to some persons⁴⁸, a dishonourable and a horrible thing: nay more, it seems not possible that such a thing should be, or ever become, beautiful and desirable to all. So that this which you now hold to be the beautiful, happens to be in the same case with those your former favourites, the maiden and the gold; sometimes it is beautiful, and sometimes otherwise: but a circumstance still more ridiculous attends this; it is beautiful only to some persons, whilst to others it is quite the contrary. And not yet,” will he say, “not all this day long, are you able, Socrates, to answer the question which you were asked,—What the beautiful is.” In terms such as these will he reproach me justly, should I answer him as you directed me. Much after the manner, Hippias, which I have now represented to you, proceed the conversations usually held between the man and me. But now and then, as if in pity to my ignorance and want of learning, he proposes to me himself some particular matter of inquiry; and asks me whether I think such or such a thing to be the beautiful; or whatever else be the general subject of the question which he has been pleased to put to me, or upon which the conversation happens at that time to turn.
[293d] Hippias: How mean you, Socrates?
[293d] Socrates: I will explain [293e] my meaning to you by an instance in the present subject.—“Friend Socrates,” says he, “let us have done with disputing in this way: give me no more answers of this sort; for they are very silly, and easily confuted. But consider now, whether the beautiful be something of this kind; such as in our dispute just now we touched upon, when we said that gold, where it was proper and becoming, was beautiful; but otherwise, where it was improper and unbecoming: and that the beauty of all other things depended on the same principle; that is, they were beautiful only where they were becoming. Now this very thing, the proper and becoming, essential propriety and decorum itself, see whether this may not happen to be the beautiful.” Now, for my part, I am used to give my assent, in such matters, to every thing proposed to me. For I find in myself nothing to object. But what think you of it? are you of opinion that the becoming is the beautiful?
[293e] Hippias: Entirely am I, Socrates, of that opinion.
[293e] Socrates: Let us consider it, however; for fear we should be guilty of some mistake in this point.
[293e] Hippias: I agree we ought so to do.
[294a] Socrates: Observe then. That which we call the becoming, is it not either something whose presence, wherever it comes, gives all things a beautiful appearance; or something which gives them the reality of beauty; or something which bestows both⁴⁹, and causes them not only to appear beautiful, but really so to be?
[294a] Hippias: I think it must be one or other of these.
[294a] Socrates: Whether of these then is the becoming? Is it that which only gives a beautiful appearance? as a man whose body is of a deformed make, when he has put on clothes or shoes which fit him, looks handsomer than he really is. [294b] Now, if the becoming causes every thing to look handsomer than it really is, the becoming must then be a kind of fraud or imposition with regard to beauty, and cannot be that which we are in search of, Hippias. For we were inquiring what that was by which all beautiful things are beautiful. As⁵⁰, if we were asked what that was, by which all great things are great, we should answer, “it was by surpassing other things of the same kind⁵¹.” For thus it is, that all things are great: and though they may not all appear great to us, yet, in as much as they surpass others, great of necessity they must be. So is it, we say, with the beautiful; it must be something by which things are beautiful, whether they appear to be so or not. Now this cannot be the becoming: for the becoming causes things to appear more beautiful than they really are, according to your account of it; concealing the truth of things, and not suffering this ever to appear. But that which causes them to be really beautiful, as I just now said, whether they appear to be so or not, this it is our business to find out, and declare the nature of it: for this it is which is the subject of our search, if we are searching for the beautiful.
[294c] Hippias: But the becoming, Socrates, causes things both to be, and to appear beautiful, by virtue of its presence.
[294c] Socrates: If so, then it is impossible for things really beautiful to appear otherwise; inasmuch as there is present with them the cause of beautiful appearance.
[294c] Hippias: Admit it impossible.
[294d] Socrates: Shall we admit this then, Hippias, that all laws, and rules of action, manners, or behaviour, truly beautiful, are beautiful in common estimation, and appear so always to all men? Or shall we not rather say quite the reverse, that men are ignorant of their beauty, and that above all things these are the subjects of controversy and contention, not only private but public, not only between man and man, but between different communities and civil states⁵²?
[294d] Hippias: Thus indeed rather, Socrates, that in those points men are ignorant of the beautiful.
[294e] Socrates: But this would not be the case if those beautiful things had the appearance of beauty, added to the reality: and this appearance would they have, if the becoming were the beautiful, and caused things, as you say it does, both to be and to appear beautiful, bestowing on them real and apparent beauty at the same time. Hence it follows, that if the becoming should be that by which things are made truly beautiful, then the becoming must be the beautiful which we are in search of, not that by which things are only made beautiful in appearance. But if the becoming should be that by which things are made beautiful only in appearance, it cannot be the beautiful which we are in search of; for this bestows the reality of beauty. Nor is it in the power of the same thing to cause the appearance and the reality, both, not only in the case of beauty, but neither in any other instance whatever. Let us choose now, whether of these two we shall take for the becoming, that which causes the appearance of beauty, or that which causes the reality.
[294e] Hippias: The becoming, Socrates, I take it, must be that which causes the appearance.
[295a] Socrates: Fie upon it, Hippias! Our discovery of the beautiful is fled away, and hath escaped us. For the becoming has turned out to be a thing different from the beautiful.
[295a] Hippias: So it seems; and very unaccountably too.
[295a] Socrates: But however, my friend, we must not give it up for lost. I have still some hope left, that the nature of the beautiful may come forth into light, and show itself.
[295a] Hippias: With great clearness, Socrates, beyond doubt: for it is by no means difficult to find. I am positive that, if I were to go aside for a little while, and consider by myself, I should describe it to you with an accuracy beyond that of any thing ever so accurate.
[295b] Socrates: Ah! talk not, Hippias, in so high a tone. You see what trouble it has given us already; and I fear lest it should grow angry with us, and run away still further than before. But I talk idly: for you, I presume, will easily find it out, when you come to be alone. Yet, in the name of the Gods, I conjure you, make the discovery while I am with you: and, if it be agreeable to you, admit me, as you did before, your companion in the search. If we find it together, it will be best of all: and, if we miss it in this way of joint inquiry, I shall be contented, I hope, with my disappointment, and you will depart and find better success without any difficulty. Besides, if we now find it, I shall not, you know, be troublesome afterwards, teasing you to tell me what was the event of that inquiry by yourself, and what was the great discovery which you had made. Now therefore consider, if you think this to be the beautiful. I say then, that it is. But pray observe, and give me all your attention, for fear I should say any thing foolish, or foreign to the purpose. Let this then be in our account the beautiful, that which is useful. I was induced to think it might be so by these considerations. Beautiful, we say, are eyes; not those which look as if they had not the faculty of sight; but such as appear to have that faculty strong, and to be useful for the purpose of seeing. Do we not?
[295d] Hippias: We do.
[295d] Socrates: And the whole body also, do we not call it beautiful with a view to its utility; one for the race, another for wrestling? So further, through all the animal kind, as a beautiful horse, cock, and quail: in the same manner all sorts of domestic utensils, and all the conveniencies for carriage abroad, be they land vehicles, or ships and barges for the sea; instruments of music likewise, with the tools and instruments subservient to the other arts: to these you may please to add moral rules and laws. Every thing almost of any of these kinds we call beautiful upon the same account; respecting the end for which it was born, or framed, or instituted. In whatever way it be useful, to whatever purpose, and upon whatever occasion; agreeably to these circumstances we pronounce it beautiful. But that which is in every respect useless, we declare totally void of beauty. Are not you of this opinion, Hippias?
[295e] Hippias: I am.
[295e] Socrates: We are right, therefore, now in saying, that above all things the useful proves to be the beautiful.
[295e] Hippias: Most certainly right, Socrates.
[295e] Socrates: Now that which is able to operate or effect any thing, is it not useful so far as it has power, and is able? But that which is powerless and unable, is it not useless?
[295e] Hippias: Without doubt.
[295e] Socrates: Power then is beautiful, and want of power is the contrary.
[295e] Hippias: Quite right. And many things there are, Socrates, which evince the truth of this conclusion: but particularly it holds good in politics. For the having ability in public affairs, and power in the state of which we are members, is of all things the most beautiful: and want of such power, with a total defect of any such ability, has of all things the meanest aspect.
[296a] Socrates: You say well. In the name of the Gods then, Hippias, does it not follow from all this, that skill and knowledge are of all things the most beautiful, and want of them the contrary?
[296b] Hippias: Ay, what think you of this, Socrates⁵³?
[296b] Socrates: Softly, my dear friend: for I am under some fears about the rectitude of our present conclusions.
[296b] Hippias: What are you afraid of, Socrates? For the business of our inquiry is now in a fair way, and goes on as we could wish.
[296b] Socrates: I would it were so. But let you and I consider together upon this point. Could any man execute a work, of which he has neither knowledge nor any other kind of abilities for the performance?
[296b] Hippias: By no means. For how should a man do that, for the doing of which he has no abilities?
[296b] Socrates: Those people then who do wrong, and who err in the execution of any thing, without erroneous or wrong intention, would they ever have done or executed things wrong, had they not been able to do or execute them in that manner?
[296c] Hippias: Clearly they would not.
[296c] Socrates: But the able are able through their abilities: for it is not inability which any way enables them.
[296c] Hippias: Certainly not.
[296c] Socrates: And all who do any thing are able to do what they do.
[296c] Hippias: True.
[296c] Socrates: And all men do many more wrong things than right; and commit errors from their infancy, without intending to do wrong, or to err.
[296c] Hippias: The fact is so.
[296d] Socrates: Well then: those abilities, and those means or instruments, which help and are useful in the doing or executing any thing wrong, whether shall we say they are beautiful? or are they not rather far from being so?
[296d] Hippias: Far from it, in my opinion, Socrates.
[296d] Socrates: The able and useful, therefore, Hippias, in our opinion, it seems, no longer is the beautiful.
[296d] Hippias: Still it is so, Socrates, if it has power to do what is right, or is useful to a good purpose.
[296d] Socrates: That account is then rejected, that the able and useful simply and absolutely is the beautiful. But the thought, Hippias, which our mind laboured with, and wanted to express, was this, that the useful and able for the producing of any good, that is the beautiful.
[296e] Hippias: This indeed seems to be the case.
[296e] Socrates: But the thing thus described is the profitable. Is it not?
[296e] Hippias: It is.
[296e] Socrates: From hence then is derived the beauty of bodies, the beauty of moral precepts, of knowledge and wisdom, and of all those things just now enumerated; they are beautiful, because profitable.
[296e] Hippias: Evidently so.
[296e] Socrates: The profitable, therefore, Hippias, should seem to be our beautiful.
[296e] Hippias: Beyond all doubt, Socrates.
[296e] Socrates: But the profitable is that which effects or produces good.
[296e] Hippias: True.
[296e] Socrates: And the efficient is no other thing than the cause. Is it?
[296e] Hippias: Nothing else.
[297a] Socrates: The cause of good, therefore, is the beautiful.
[297a] Hippias: Right.
[297a] Socrates: Now the cause, Hippias, is a thing different from that which it causes. For the cause can by no means be the cause of itself. Consider it thus: Did not the cause appear to be the efficient?
[297a] Hippias: Clearly.
[297a] Socrates: And by the efficient no other thing is effected than that which is produced or generated; but this is not the efficient itself.
[297a] Hippias: You are in the right.
[297a] Socrates: Is not that then which is produced or generated one thing, and the efficient a thing different?
[297b] Hippias: It is.
[297b] Socrates: The cause, therefore, is not the cause of itself; but of that which is generated or produced by it.
[297b] Hippias: Without doubt.
[297b] Socrates: If the beautiful be then the cause of good, good itself must be produced or generated by the beautiful. And for this reason, it should seem, we cultivate and study prudence, and every other fair virtue, because their production and their issue are well worth our study and our care, as being good itself. Thus are we likely to find from our inquiries, that the beautiful, as it stands related to good, has the nature of a kind of father.
[297b] Hippias: The very case, Socrates. You are perfectly right in what you say.
[297c] Socrates: Am I not right also in this, that neither is the father the son, nor is the son the father?
[297c] Hippias: Right in that also.
[297c] Socrates: Nor is the cause the production, nor the production, on the other hand, the cause.
[297c] Hippias: Very right.
[297c] Socrates: By Jupiter then, my friend, neither is the beautiful good, nor is the good beautiful. Do you think it is possible it should be so? Is it consistent with what we have said, and are agreed in?
[297c] Hippias: By Jupiter, I think not.
[297c] Socrates: Would this opinion please us then, and should we choose to abide by it, that the beautiful is not good, nor the good beautiful?
[297c] Hippias: By Jupiter, no; it would not please me at all.
[297d] Socrates: Well said⁵⁴, by Jupiter, Hippias: and me it pleases the least of any of those descriptions or accounts which we have hitherto given of the beautiful.
[297d] Hippias: So I perceive.
[297d] Socrates: That definition of it, therefore, which we thought just now the most excellent of all, that the profitable, the useful and able to produce some good or other, was that beautiful, is in danger of losing all its credit with us; and of appearing, if possible, more ridiculous than our former accounts of it, where we reckoned the maiden to be the beautiful, or any other particular whose defect we have before discovered.
[297e] Hippias: It seems so, indeed.
[297e] Socrates: And for my own part, Hippias, I see no way where to turn myself any more, but am absolutely at a loss. Have you any thing to say?
[297e] Hippias: Not at present. But, as I said just now, after a little considering I am certain I shall find it out.
[298a] Socrates: But I fear, so extreme is my desire of knowing it, that I shall not be able to wait your time. Besides, I have just met with, as I imagine, a fair kind of opening to the discovery. For consider that which gives us delight and joy, (I speak not of all kinds of pleasure, but of that only which arises in us through the hearing and the sight,) whether we should not call this the beautiful. And how, indeed, could we dispute it⁵⁵? seeing that it is the beautiful of our own species, Hippias, with the sight of whom we are so delighted: that we take pleasure in viewing all beautiful works of the loom or needle; and whatever is well painted, carved, or moulded. It is the same with the hearing: for well-measured sounds and all musical harmony, the beauties of prosaic composition also, with pretty fables and well-framed stories, have the like effect upon us, to be agreeable, to be delightful, and to charm. Were we to give, therefore, that petulant and saucy fellow this answer—“Noble sir, the beautiful is that which gives us pleasure through the hearing, and through the sight,” do you think we should not restrain his insolence?
[298a] Hippias: For my part, Socrates, I think the nature of the beautiful now truly well explained.
[298b] Socrates: But what shall we say of the beauty of manners, and of laws, Hippias? Shall we say it gives us pleasure through the hearing, or through the sight? or is it to be ranked under some other kind?
[298b] Hippias: Perhaps the man may not think of this.
[298b] Socrates: By the Dog, Hippias, but that man would, of whom I stand in awe the most of all men; and before whom I should be most ashamed if I trifled, and pretended to utter something of great importance, when in reality I talked idly, and spoke nothing to the purpose.
[298c] Hippias: Who is he?
[298c] Socrates: Socrates, the son of Sophroniscus; who would no more suffer me to throw out such random speeches, or so readily decide on points which I had not thoroughly sifted, than he would allow me to talk of things which I am ignorant of, as if I knew them.
[298c] Hippias: Why, really, I must own, that to me myself, since you have started the observation, the beauty of laws seems referable to another kind.
[298c] Socrates: Softly, Hippias. For, though we have fallen into fresh difficulties, equal to our former ones, about the nature of the beautiful, we are in a fair way, I think, of extricating ourselves out of them.
[298c] Hippias: How so, Socrates?
[298d] Socrates: I will tell you how the matter appears to me: whether or no there be any thing material in what I say, you will consider. The beauty then of laws and of manners, I imagine, may possibly be found not altogether abstracted from that kind of sensation which arises in the soul through the senses of hearing and of sight. But let us abide awhile by this definition, that “what gives us pleasure through these senses is the beautiful,” without bringing the beauty of laws the least into question. Suppose then, that either the man of whom I am speaking, or any other, should interrogate us after this manner: “For what reason, Hippias and Socrates, have you separated from the pleasant in general that species of it in which you say consists the beautiful; denying the character of beautiful to those species of pleasure which belong to the other senses, to the pleasures of taste, the joys of Venus, and all others of the same class? Do you refuse them the character of pleasant also, and maintain that no pleasure neither is to be found in these sensations, or in any thing beside seeing and hearing?” Now, Hippias, what shall we say to this?
[298e] Hippias: By all means, Socrates, we must allow pleasure to be found also in these sensations; a pleasure very exquisite.
[299a] Socrates: “Since these sensations then afford pleasure,” will he say, “no less than those others, why do you deprive them of the name of beautiful, and rob them of their proper share of beauty⁵⁶?” “Because there is no one who would not laugh at us,” we shall answer, “were we to call eating a beautiful thing, instead of a pleasant; or the smelling sweet odours, were we to say, not that it was pleasant, but that it was beautiful. Above all, in amorous enjoyments, all the world would contend, there was the highest degree of the sweet and pleasant; but that whoever was engaged in them should take care not to be seen, the act of love being far from agreeable to the sight, or beautiful.” Now, Hippias, when we have thus answered, he may reply, perhaps, in this manner:—“I apprehend perfectly well the reason why you have always been ashamed to call these pleasures beautiful; it is because they seem not so to men. But the question which I asked you was not, What seemed beautiful to the multitude; but, What was so in reality.” Then shall we answer, I presume, only by repeating our last hypothesis, that “we ourselves give the name of beautiful to that part only of the pleasant which ariseth in us by means of our sight and hearing.” But have you any thing to say which may be of service to our argument? Shall we answer aught besides, Hippias?
[299b] Hippias: To what he has said, Socrates, it is unnecessary to make any further answer.
[299c] Socrates: “Very well now,” will he say. “If the pleasant then, arising through the sight and hearing, be the beautiful, whatever portion of the pleasant happen s not to be this, it is clear it cannot be the beautiful.” Shall we admit this?
[299c] Hippias: Certainly.
[299c] Socrates: “Is that portion of the pleasant [299d] then,” he will say, “which arises through the sight, the same with that which arises through the sight and hearing? Or is that which arises through the hearing, the same with that which arises through the hearing and the sight?” “That which ariseth in us through either of those senses alone, and not through the other,” we shall answer, “is by no means the same with that which arises through them both. For this seems to be the import of your question. But our meaning was, that each of these species of the pleasant was, by itself separately, the beautiful; and that they were also, both of them together, the same beautiful.” Should we not answer so?
[299d] Hippias: By all means.
[299d] Socrates: “Does any species of the pleasant then,” he will say, “differ from any other, whatever it be, so far as it is pleasant? Observe; I ask you not if one pleasure is greater or less than another, or whether it is more or less a pleasure: but whether there is any difference between the pleasures in this respect, that one of them is pleasure, the other not pleasure.” In our opinion there is no difference between them, of this kind. Is there any?
[299e] Hippias: I agree with you, there is not any.
[299e] Socrates: “For some other reason, therefore,” he will say it is, “than because they are pleasures, that you have selected these species of pleasure from the rest, and given them the preference. You have discerned that there is something or other in them by which they differ from the rest; with a view to which difference you distinguish them by the epithet of beautiful. Now the pleasure which ariseth in us through the sense of seeing, deriveth not its beauty from any thing peculiarly belonging to that sense⁵⁷. For, if this were the cause of its being beautiful, that other pleasure which arises through the hearing never would be beautiful, as not partaking of that which is peculiar to the sense of seeing.” “You are in the right,” shall we say?
[299e] Hippias: We will.
[299e] Socrates: “So neither, on the other hand, does the pleasure produced in us through the sense of hearing derive its beauty from any circumstance which peculiarly attends the hearing⁵⁸. For, in that case, the pleasure produced through seeing would not be beautiful, as not partaking of that which is peculiar to the sense of hearing⁵⁹.” Shall we allow, Hippias, that the man is in the right when he says this?
[300a] Hippias: Allow it.
[300a] Socrates: “But both these pleasures now are beautiful, you say.” For so we say: do we not?
[300a] Hippias: We do.
[300a] Socrates: “There is something in them, therefore, the same in both, to which they owe their beauty, a beauty common to them both. There is something, I say, which they have belonging to them both in common, and also in particular to each. For otherwise they would not, both and each of them, be beautiful.” Answer now, as if you were speaking to him.
[300b] Hippias: I answer then, that, in my opinion⁶⁰, you give a true account of the matter.
[300b] Socrates: Should there be any circumstance, therefore, attending on both these pleasures of the sight and hearing taken together; yet if the same circumstanc e attend not on each taken separately; or should any attend on each separately⁶¹, yet not on both together; they cannot derive their beauty from this circumstance.
[300b] Hippias: How is it possible, Socrates, that any circumstance whatever, which attends on neither of them, should ever attend on both?
[300b] Socrates: Do you think this impossible?
[300b] Hippias: I must be quite ignorant, I own, in things of this sort; as I am quite unused to such kind of disputes.
[300c] Socrates: You jest, Hippias. But I am in danger, perhaps, of fancying that I see something, so circumstanced, as you aver to be impossible.
[300c] Hippias: You are in no danger of any such fancy, Socrates; but are pleased to look asquint purposely: that is all.
[300c] Socrates: Many things, I assure you, of that kind appear to me very evident. But I give no credit to them; because they are not evident to you, who have raised a larger fortune than any man living, by the profession of philosophy; and because they appear only to me, who have never in that way earned a farthing. I have some suspicion, however, that possibly you are not in earnest with me, but design to impose upon me: so many things of that kind do I perceive so plainly.
[300d] Hippias: No one will know better than yourself, Socrates, whether I am in earnest with you or not, if you will but begin and tell me, what those things are which you perceive so plainly. You will soon see that you talk idly. For you will never find a circumstance attending us both together, which attends separately neither you nor me.
[300d] Socrates: How say you, Hippias? But perhaps you have reason on your side, and I may not apprehend it. Let me, therefore, explain to you my meaning more distinctly. To me then it appears, that some circumstance of being, which attends not my individual person, nor yours, something which belongs neither to me, nor to you, may yet possibly belong to both of us, and attend both our persons taken together: and, on the other hand⁶², that certain circumstances of being, not attending us both taken together, may attend each of our separate and single persons.
[300e] Hippias: You tell me [301a] of prodigies still greater, I think, now⁶³, Socrates, than those which you told me of just before. For consider: if both of us are honest, man, must not each of us be honest? or, supposing each of us dishonest, must we not both be so? If both are sound and well, is not each also? Or, should each of us now be tired of any thing⁶⁴, or come off ill in some combat between us, or be amazed and confounded, or be affected any other way, would not both of us be in the same plight? To go further: in case that we had, both of us, images of ourselves made of gold, or silver, or ivory; or that both of us, if you will give me leave to say it, were generous, or wise, or honourable; did both of us happen to be old or young; or to be possessed of any other human quality; or to be in any condition whatever incident to human life; [301b] must not each of us be, of absolute necessity, that very same kind of man, and in those very same circumstances?
[301c] Socrates: Beyond all doubt.
[301c] Hippias: But you, Socrates, with your companions and fellow disputants, consider not things universally, or in the whole. Thus you take the beautifu l and chop it into pieces: and every thing in nature, which happens to be the subject of your discourse, you serve in the same manner, splitting and dividing it⁶⁵. Hence you are unacquainted with the greatness of things⁶⁶, with bodies of infinite magnitude, through the natural continuity of be- ing. And now so much are you a stranger to the vastness of this view of the universe, as to imagine that any thing, whether being or circumstance of being, can possibly belong to both those pleasures which we are speaking of, taken together, yet not belong to each of them; or, on the other hand, may belong to each, without belonging to both. So void of thought and consideration, so simple, and so narrow-minded are you and your com- panions.
[301c] Socrates: Such is the lot of our condition, Hippias. It is not what a man will, says the common proverb, but what he can. However, you are always kind in assisting us with your instructions. For but just now, before you had taught me better, how simple my mind was, and how narrow my way of thinking, I shall give you still a plainer proof, by telling you what were my thoughts upon the present subject:—if you will give me leave.
[301d] Hippias: You will tell them to one who knows them already, Socrates. For I am well acquainted with the different ways of thinking, and know the minds of all who philosophize. Notwithstanding, if it will give pleasure to yourself, you may tell me.
[301e] Socrates: To me, I confess, it will. You must know then, my friend, that I was so foolish, till I had received from you better information, as to imagine of myself and you, that each of us was one person; and that this, which each of us was, both of us were not, as not being one, but two persons.—Such a simpleton was I!—But from you have I now learnt, that if both of us are two persons, each of us also by necessity is two; and that, if each of us be but one, it follows by the same necessity, that both of us are no more. For, by reason of the continuity of being, according to Hippias, it is impossible it should be otherwise; each of us being of necessity whatever both of us are, and both whatever each⁶⁷. And now, persuaded by you to believe these things, here I sit me down and rest contented. But first inform me, Hippias, whether we are one person, you and I together; or whether you are two persons, and I two persons.
[301e] Hippias: What mean you, Socrates?
[301e] Socrates: The very thing which I say. For I am afraid of entering with you into a further discussion of the subject, because you fall into a passion with me, whenever you say any thing which you take to be important. To venture for once, however; tell me—Is not each of us one? and is not the being one a circumstance attendant upon our being?
[302a] Hippias: Without doubt.
[302a] Socrates: If each of us then be one, each of us must be also odd. Or think you that one is not an odd number?
[302a] Hippias: I think it is.
[302a] Socrates: Are we odd both together then, notwithstanding that we are two?
[302a] Hippias: That is absurd, Socrates.
[302a] Socrates: But both together, we are even. Is it not so?
[302a] Hippias: Certainly.
[302a] Socrates: Now, because both of us together we are even, does it follow from thence that each of us singly too is even?
[302b] Hippias: Certainly not.
[302b] Socrates: There is not, therefore, such an absolute necessity, as you said just now there was, that, whatever both of us were, each should be the same; and that, whatever each of us was, the same must we be both.
[302b] Hippias: Not in such cases as these, I acknowledge; but still it holds true in such as I enumerated before.
[302c] Socrates: That suffices, Hippias. I am contented with this acknowledgment, that it appears to be so in some cases, but in others otherwise. For, if you remember from whence the present dispute arose, I said, that the pleasures of sight and hearing could not derive their beauty from any circumstance which attended on each, yet not on both; neither from any which attended on both, yet not on each: but that the beauty of them was derived from something which they had belonging to both of them in common, and in particular to each. And this I said, because you had admitted the beauty of them both together, and of each separately. [302d] From which I drew this consequence, that they were indebted for their beauty to some being, whose presence still followed and attended on them both; and not to such as fell short of either. And I continue still in the same mind. But answer me, as if we were now beginning this last inquiry afresh. Pleasure through the sight and pleasure through the hearing, then, being supposed beautiful, both of them and each; tell me, does not the cause of their beauty follow and attend on both of them taken together, and upon each also considered separate?
[302e] Hippias: Without doubt.
[302e] Socrates: Is it then because they are pleasures, both and each of them, that they are beautiful? Or, if this were the cause, would not the pleasures of the other senses be beautiful, as well as these? For it appeared that they were pleasures as well as these:—if you remember.
[302e] Hippias: I remember it well.
[302e] Socrates: But because these pleasures arise in us through sight and hearing, this we assigned for the cause of their being beautiful.
[302e] Hippias: It was so determined.
[302e] Socrates: Observe now, whether I am right or not: for, as well as I can remember, we agreed that the pleasant was the beautiful; not the pleasant in general, but those species of it only which are produced through sight and hearing.
[302e] Hippias: It is true.
[302e] Socrates: Does not this circumstance then attend on both these pleasures taken together? and is it not wanting to each of them alone? For by no means is either of them alone, as was said before, produced through both those senses. Both of them are indeed through both, but not so is each. Is this true?
[302e] Hippias: It is.
[302e] Socrates: They are not beautiful, therefore, either of them, from any circumstance which attends on either by itself. For we cannot argue from either to both; nor, from what each is separately, infer what they both are jointly. So that we may assert the joint beauty of both these pleasures, according to our present hypothesis of the beautiful: but this hypothesis will not support us in asserting any beauty separate in either. Or how say we? Is it not of necessity so?
[303a] Hippias: So it appears.
[303a] Socrates: Say we then that both are beautiful, but deny that each is so?
[303a] Hippias: What reason is there to the contrary?
[303a] Socrates: This reason, my friend, as it seems to me; because we had supposed certain circumstances attendant upon things with this condition, that, if they appertained to any two things, both together, they appertained at the same time to each; and, if they appertained to each, that they appertained also to both. Of this kind are all such circumstances and attendants of things as were enumerated by you. Are they not?
[303a] Hippias: They are.
[303a] Socrates: But such circumstances or appendages of being, as those related by me, are otherwise: and of this kind are the being each, and the being both. Have not I stated the case rightly?
[303b] Hippias: You have.
[303b] Socrates: Under which kind then, Hippias, do you rank the beautiful? Do you rank it among those mentioned by yourself? as when you inferred that if I was well and hearty, and you well and hearty, then both of us were well and hearty: or, if I was honest and you honest, then both of us were honest: or, if we both were so, it followed that so was each of us. Does the same kind of inference hold true in this case? If I am beautiful, and you are beautiful, then both of us are beautiful; and if both of us, then each. Or is there no reason why it should not here be as it is in numbers⁶⁸? two of which, taken together, may be even; though each separately is perhaps odd, perhaps even: or, as it is in magnitudes⁶⁹; where two of them, though each is incommensurable with some third, yet both together may perhaps be commensurable with it, perhaps incommensurable. A thousand such other things there are, which I perceived, as I said, with great clearness. Now, to whether of these two orders of being do you refer the beautiful? Does the proper rank of it appear as evident to you as it does to me? For to me it appears highly absurd, to suppose both of us beautiful, yet each of us not so; or each of us beautiful, yet not so both; no less absurd, than it is to suppose the same kind of difference between the natures of both and each in any of the cases put by you. Do you agree with me then in ranking the beautiful among these, or do you refer it to the opposite class of things?
[303c] Hippias: I entirely agree with you, Socrates.
[303d] Socrates: You do well, Hippias: because we shall thus be freed from any further inquiry upon this article. For, if the beautiful be in that class of things where we agree to place it, the pleasant then, which arises in us through sight and hearing, can no longer be supposed the beautiful. Because that which comes through both those senses jointly, may make the pleasures which arise from thence beautiful indeed both taken together; but cannot make either of them so, considered as separate from the other. But that the beautiful should have such an effect, or communicate itself in this manner, is absurd to suppose; as you and I have agreed, Hippias.
[303d] Hippias: We agreed it was so, I own.
[303d] Socrates: It is impossible, therefore, that the pleasant, arising in us through sight and hearing, should be the beautiful; because from this hypothesis an absurdity would follow.
[303e] Hippias: You have reason on your side.
[303e] Socrates: “Begin again then, and tell me,” will he say, “for you have missed it now, what is that beautiful, the associate of both these pleasures, for the sake of which you give them the preference to all others, by honouring them with the name of beautiful?” It appears to me, Hippias, necessary for us to answer thus; that “these are of all pleasures the most innocent and good, as well both of them taken together, as each taken singly⁷⁰.” Or can you tell me of any circumstance beside, in which they differ from other pleasures?
[303e] Hippias: I know of none beside: for they are indeed the best of all.
[303e] Socrates: “This then,” he will say, “do you now maintain to be the beautiful, pleasure profitable?”—“It is so in my opinion,” I shall answer.—What answer would you make?
[304a] Hippias: The same.
[304a] Socrates: “Well then,” will he say: “the profitable, you know, is that which is the efficient of good. And the efficient, as we agreed lately, is a thing different from the effect. Our reasoning, therefore, has brought us round to the same point again: for thus neither would the good be beautiful, nor would the beautiful be good; each of these being, upon this hypothesis, different from the other.” “Most evidently so;” is the answer we must make, Hippias, if we are of sound mind. For the sacredness of truth will never suffer us to oppose the man who has truth with him on his side.
[304b] Hippias: But now, Socrates, what think you all these matters are which we have been disputing about? They are the shreds and tatters of an argument, cut and torn, as I said before, into a thousand pieces. But the thing which is beautiful, as well as highly valuable, is this: to be able to exhibit a fine speech, in a becoming and handsome manner, before the council, or court of justice, or any other assembly or person in authority, to whom the speech is addressed; such a speech as hath the power of persuasion; and having ended to depart, not with mean and insignificant trophies of victory, but with a prize the noblest, the preservation of ourselves, our fortunes, and our friends. This you ought to be ambitious of, and bid adieu to such petty and paltry disputes; or you will appear as if you had quite lost your senses, playing with straws and trifles, as you have been now doing.
[304c] Socrates: O friend Hippias! you are happy that you know what course of life it is best for a man to follow, and have followed it, according to your own account, so successfully yourself. But I seem fated to be under the power of a dæmoniacal nature, who keeps me wandering continually in search of truth, and still at a loss where to find it. And whenever I lay my difficulties and perplexities before you wise men, I meet with no other answer from you than contumely and reproach. For you all tell me the same thing which you tell me now, “That I busy myself about silly, minute, and insignificant matters.” On the other hand, when, upon giving credit to what you all tell me, I say, as you do, “That to be able to exhibit a fine speech in a court of justice, or any other assembly, and to go through it in a proper and handsome manner, is the finest thing in the world; and that no employment is so beautiful, or so well becomes a man; I then meet with censure and obloquy from some who are here present⁷¹, but especially from that man who is always reproving me. For he is my nearest of kin, and lives with me in the same house. So, whenever I return home, and am entered in, as soon as he hears me talking in this strain, he asks me if I am not ashamed to pronounce, with so much confidence, what professions and employments are fine, or beautiful, or becoming; when I have plainly shown myself so ignorant with regard to things beautiful, as not to know wherein the nature of beauty consists.—“And how can you judge,” says he, “who has spoken a beautiful or fine speech, or done any thing else in a handsome manner, and who not, ignorant as you are what the beautiful and handsome is? Such then being the disposition of your mind, is it possible that you can think life more eligible to you than death?” Thus have I had the ill fortune, as I told you, to suffer obloquy and reproach from you, to suffer obloquy also and reproach from him. But, perhaps, it is necessary to endure all this. If I have received benefit or improvement from it, there is no harm done. And I seem to myself, Hippias, improved and benefited by the conversation of you both. For the meaning of the proverb, “Things of beauty are things of difficulty,” if I am not mistaken in myself, I know.

## Notes

[1] The scene of this dialogue is clearly the Lycæum, a structure of astonishing grandeur and beauty, at a small distance from the city, by the side of the Ilyssus; the largest and most magnificent of those three built at the public cost for the purpose of bathing and the gymnic exercises. The other two were within the city, lying convenient for the use of the ordinary citizens and men of business. But this was the most frequented by men of larger fortune and more leisure; with many of whom Socrates was intimately acquainted. Hither, as we learn from Plato’s Symposium, it was his usual custom to resort, accompanied by his friends, and to spend here the greatest part of the day. That the Sophists, whenever they came to Athens, frequented the same place, appears from Isocrates in Orat. Panathen.; as indeed it is natural to suppose; the nobler part of the youth being daily there assembled: for these were extremely inquisitive after knowledge, and great admirers of philosophy; and the Sophists professed the teaching it, and the making, for a certain stipulated sum of money, any man a philosopher. To carry on this business of their profession, they were continually travelling about, like the Rhapsodists, from city to city, (ταχεως πανταχου γιγνομενοι, says Isocrates,) wherever philosophy and knowledge were in esteem; but visited Athens the oftenest, where above all places those ornaments of the mind were highly valued.—S.
[2] Hippias was remarkable for the finery of his apparel, as we shall see further on. This striking the eyes of Socrates immediately on meeting him occasioned his addressing him first with this epithet.—S.
[3] Socrates in this sentence humorously makes use of a sea term to represent the life led by the Sophists, as resembling that of mariners; who are roving incessantly from port to port, and never continue long in one place. But possibly there is a further meaning; it may be intended to prepare us for observing that instability of Hippias himself, his notions and opinions, which is afterwards to appear throughout the dialogue; an instability arising from his want of the fixed princiciples of science, the only sure foundation of settled opinions. At the same time; there is a propriety in this expression from the mouth of an Athenian, to whom it must have been habitual; Athens being seated near the sea, the Athenians the principal merchants, and their state the greatest maritime power then in the world.—S.
[4] Plato acquaints us always as soon as possible with the character of his speakers. In this first speech of Hippias, the vain and ostentatious sophist, the solemn and formal orator, both appear in a strong light, and prepare us at once for all which is to follow, agreeably to those characters.—S.
[5] See Philostrat. p. 495. ed. Olear.—S.
[6] Hippias is here represented as being both a sophist and an orator. For the better apprehending this double character of his, and the more fully understanding those many passages of Plato where these professions are mentioned, it may be useful to give a summary account of their rise and nature. The Grecian wisdom then, or philosophy, in the most antient times of which any records are left us, included physics, ethics, and politics, until the time of Thales the Ionian; who giving himself up wholly to the study of Nature, of her principles and elements, with the causes of the several phænomena, became famous above all the antient sages for natural knowledge; and led the way to a succession of philosophers, from their founder and first master called Ionic. Addicted thus to the contemplation of things remote from the affairs of men, these all lived abstracted as much as possible from human society; revealing the secrets of nature only to a few select disciples, who sought them out in their retreat, and had a genius for the same abstruse inquiries, together with a taste for the same retired kind of life. As the fame of their wisdom spread, the curiosity of that whole inquisitive nation, the Grecians, was at length excited. This gave occasion to the rise of a new profession, or sect, very different from that of those speculative sages. A set of men, smitten, not with the love of wisdom, but of fame and glory, men of great natural abilities, notable industry and boldness, appeared in Greece; and assuming the name of Sophists, a name hitherto highly honourable, and given only to those by whom mankind in general were supposed to be made wiser, to their antient poets, legislators, and the Gods themselves, undertook to teach, by a few lessons, and in a short time, all the parts of philosophy to any person, of whatever kind was his disposition or turn of mind, and of whatever degree the capacity of it, so that he was but able to pay largely for his teaching. In the same age with Thales lived Solon the Athenian; who took the other part of philosophy to cultivate, and, applying himself chiefly to moral and political science, became so great a proficient in those studies, that he gave a new system of excellent laws to his country. Hence arose in Athens a race of politicians, studious of the laws, and of the art of government. During this succession, through force of natural genius, good polity, commerce and riches among the Athenians, great improvements were made in all the liberal arts: but that of oratory flourished above the rest, for this reason; because the Athenians lived under a popular government, where the art of ruling is only by persuasion. Eloquence then being one of the principal means of persuasion, and persuasion the only way to acquire and maintain power, all who were ambitious of any magistracy or office in the government studied to become eloquent orators: and the arts of rhetoric and polity were thus united in the same persons. Accordingly, we learn from the Attic writers of those days, that the most popular orators at Athens were appointed to embassies, to magistracies, to the command of armies, and the supreme administration of all civil affairs. See particularly Isocrates in Orat. de Pace, & Panathen. In this dialogue we find that the same spirit prevailed at Elis. Now in men of great abilities the predominant passion is ambition more frequently than avarice. Those of the Sophists, therefore, who excelled in quickness of understanding, compass of knowledge, and ingenuity, such as Hippias was, added to their other attainments the arts of popular oratory, and by those means got into the management of the state. Thus much for the present: the sequel and the supplement of this short history, so far as they are necessary to our purpose, will appear on fit occasions.—S.
[7] Adliterations, adnominations, and repetitions of the same word, were some of those prettinesses of style, or graces, where they are employed with judgment, which are said to have been invented by the rhetorical Sophists. Plato, therefore, frequently in his dialogues, with great propriety, puts them into the mouths of such speakers. On what occasions, and how differently from the use made of them by those sophistical orators, he introduces them into his own style at other times, will be observed elsewhere.—S.
[8] There was a law at Athens, the author of which was Solon, ordaining μη λεγειν κακως τον τεθνηκοτα, not to revile the dead: a law made, says Plutarch, partly from a political consideration, to hinder the perpetuating of enmities; partly from a motive of justice, which forbids the attacking those who are not in a capacity of defending themselves; and partly from a principle of religion, agreeably to which the departed are to be looked on as sacred: και ὁσιον τους μεθεστωτας ἱερους νομιζειν. Plut. in Vit. Solon. p. 89. E. That this sentiment was of much earlier antiquity than the age of Solon, appears from the following passage of Archilochus, cited by Clemens Alex. Strom. l. vi. p. 619. ed. Sylburg.

Ου γαρ (inf. f. ταδ’) εσθλα, κατθανουσι κερτομειν
Επ’ ανδρασι.——
For this is evil, with heart-biting taunt
To persecute men dead.—

And from this of Homer still earlier,

Ουκ ὁσιον φθιμενοισιν επ’ ανδρασιν ευχεταασθαι.
Odyss. l. xxii. ver. 412.
With boastful speech to glory o’er the dead
Is impious.—

This piece of antient religion arose partly from an opinion, that souls freed from their earthly bodies were in a state of being superior to that of mortals, and ought, therefore, to be honoured by them; and partly was owing to a belief that the shadowy ghosts, or spirits, (which they distinguished from the intellectual souls,) of dead persons had it in their power to hurt the living, by haunting and disturbing them at least, if no other way. It is on the foundation of this belief that Virgil represents Dido thus threatening Æneas,

Omnibus umbra locis adero: dabis, improbe, pœnas.
Æneid. l. iv. ver. 386.
Be where thou wilt, my shade shall still be there:
Yes; thou shalt suffer for thy cruelty,
Base man!—

And hence likewise came to be instituted the religious rite of offering θελκτηρια; pacificatory sacrifices, to the ghosts of those whom they were afraid of having offended. See Eurip. Iphigen. in Taur. ver. 166.—S.
[9] The character of Gorgias is painted by Plato at full length in a dialogue inscribed with his name. It will be sufficient for our present purpose to observe, that Gorgias was by profession, like Hippias, an orator as well as sophist; and set up for teaching both philosophy and the art of rhetoric: and that the price of his teaching was 100 μναι, which is of our money 322l. 18s. 4d. from each of his scholars.—S.
[10] The profession or business of a sophist consisted of three branches: one of which was to perfect and accomplish the fine gentleman, according to the idea which the Grecians had of such a character in that age of sophism: not to form him from the first rudiments throughout, or in any part, (for this task they thought beneath them,) but, after a course of liberal education had been gone through, and the studies and exercises of youth were ended, to give him then the finishing touches; qualifying him to speak plausibly upon all subjects, to support with specious arguments either side of any question or debate, and by false oratory and fallacious reasoning, afterwards from them called sophistical, to corrupt the hearers, silence the opposers, and govern all in all things. To attain these admired accomplishments, the young gentleman was constantly to attend, and follow them every where, as long as he thought fit himself; observing in what manner they disputed de quolibet ente, on any point which offered; and learning by degrees to imitate them. Hence, that which we translate tuition, or teaching, is every where in Plato termed συνειναι τοις νεοις, the being accompanied by the young men. Another part of the sophist’s occupation, quite distinct from the former, though carried on at the same time, was to read lectures at a certain price to each auditor, before as many as they could procure beforehand to become subscribers to them. These lectures, the subjects of which were chosen indifferently, were in the way of declamations, dissertations, or what we commonly call essays, ready composed and written down. They were not contrived, however, for the purpose of teaching or instruction: nor could they indeed effectually serve that end; for long speeches and lectures are easily forgotten: but they were calculated merely for entertainment and ostentation; and properly enough, therefore, entitled by the Sophists themselves επιδειξεις, exhibitions. The third branch of their trade, the only one cultivated gratuitously, for the sake of fame, though probably with a view, besides, of gaining customers in those other the lucrative branches, was to answer all questions proposed to them; like the antient oracle at Delphi, or the authors of the Athenian oracle in the last age; allusions to which practice of theirs we shall meet with frequently in Plato. But in this passage he had occasion only to mention their other two employments, from which immediately accrued their gain.—S.
[11] In Prodicus also were united the two characters of orator and sophist: as Philostratus (in Vit. Sophist.) confirms. That Socrates condescended to attend his lectures, and contracted an intimacy with him, we learn from several of Plato’s dialogues. The price paid by each of his auditors at those last exhibitions of his, here mentioned, was 50 δραχμαι, or 1l. 12s. 3½d. See Plat. in Cratyl. p. 384. and Aristot. Rhet. l. iii. c. 14.—S.
[12] Αλλος δημιουργος. The reason why Plato uses this word, rather than τεχνικος, his usual term for artist, will appear in his dialogue named The Sophist; where he debases that profession below the rank of the meanest artificer in any useful or honest way.—S.
[13] Equal to 484l. 7s. 6d. English money.—S.
[14] Equal to 64l. 11s. 8d. In all our calculations we have followed the usual way of computing; in which an ounce of the silver coin of Athens is valued but at 5s. 2d. and the Attic δραχμη is supposed equal to the Roman denarius; though, as Dr. Arbuthnot judiciously observes, there is reason to think it was of greater value.—S.
[15] Των γαρ προτερων πέρι Αναξαγορου. In our translation we have omitted this last word; apprehending it to have been at first one of those, so frequently of old written on the margin of books by way of explication or illustration, and so frequently, when those books came to be copied afterward, assumed into the text. For, if permitted to remain, it confounds or much disturbs the construction; and so greatly puzzled the old translators, that they have severally given this passage four different meanings, all of them, compared with what follows, evidently spoiling the sense. We should choose, therefore, to read των γαρ προτερων πιρι, λεγεται κ. τ. λ.—S.
[16] See the beginning of Plato’s Meno.—S.
[17] The Sicilians were as infamous for luxury as the Spartans were illustrious for virtue. Whence the Greek proverb, Σικελικη τραπεζα; and the Latin, Siculæ dapes.—S.
[18] This sacred authority, which the Spartans attributed to the laws of their country, was owing partly to the sanction given to those laws by the Delphian oracle; as appears from Xenophon’s short observations upon the Lacedæmonian polity; and partly to the sanction of an oath taken by their ancestors, through a stratagem of Lycurgus, to maintain his laws inviolable: for which see Plutarch’s life of that legislator, towards the end.—S.
[19] The manner of the Spartan education may be seen at large in Cragius de Repub. Lacedæm. lib. iii.—S.
[20] The Spartans, above all people being attached to the antient constitution of their government and laws, were extremely jealous of having a taste introduced among them for foreign manners and fashions; because they were well aware, that by these means an essential change in their constitution would gradually follow and take place. This jealousy of theirs they carried to such a height, that they suffered no foreigner, or person of foreign education, to take up his constant residence in Sparta; nor any of their own people to reside for any considerable length of time in foreign countries.—S.
[21] The polity of the Spartans was contrived with a view of making them a military people. For this reason, the mechanical and necessary arts were left to servants and slaves; and such part only of the liberal kind was admitted amongst them as contributed to military skill, or fitted them for the toils and the stratagems of war. But philosophy and the sciences are said to have been wholly excluded. Many passages from the antients in proof of this are collected by the annotators on Ælian. Var. Hist. l. xii. c. 50. and by Nic. Craig, in his treatise before cited, l. iii. Perhaps, however, it was only so in appearance. It may be worth while to examine and consider well what Plato says on this subject in his Protagoras.—S.
[22] The Spartans were not more remarkable for a contempt of grammar and mathematics, than was Hippias for his skill in those sciences, as appears from the shorter dialogue called by his name. This part of the Introduction, the third and last, receives much grace from both these circumstances. For the mention of the sciences here in this manner, with a mixture of compliment and humour, seems to arise naturally from the character of the person with whom Socrates is conversing, and from that of the people who are the present subject of this part of their conversation. Plato uses such exquisite art in the œconomy of his dialogues, that whatever is brought upon the carpet appears to fall in naturally: at the same time that all the circumstances of it harmonize together; and every particular contributes to carry on his designs, either the principal or subordinate; being indeed purposely introduced for the sake of these.—S.
[23] This was the æra of the Athenian greatness. For the lenity of Solon’s laws, the limitation which they gave to the formidable power of a perpetual senate, and the popular liberty which they established, produced in the people such a spirit—the consequence always of lenity in the government, legal liberty, and a share of power—that Athens soon grew able to rival Sparta, and to be her competitor for the chief sway and leading in the general affairs of Greece. Plato here, therefore, intends a fine compliment to his country. That he could have no contrary view is evident; because the archons, or chief magistrates of Athens, had been elected annually, nine in number, eighty years before the archonship of Solon, when his laws were instituted. Plato would not have bounded his list of archons with the time of Solon, had his intention been to satirize the Athenian constitution; as it may seem to some, who imagine him in all things to be in jest, and always satirical.—S.
[24] The Sophists were remarkably curious upon this head. The words which they affected to use were the smooth, the soft, and the delicate; the pompous, and the highlycompound; the splendid, the florid, the figurative and poetical; the quaint, and the uncommon; the antique, and obsclete; with many new ones of their own invention; all, in short, which any way served to please the sense, or amuse the fancy, without informing the understanding. Instances of all which are recorded in the antient critics, and may be seen collected, many of them by Cresollius in Theat. Rhet. l. iii. c. 23. As to the diction of Hippias in particular, it is represented by Maximus Tyrius, c. 23. to have been empty and unmeaning, and his eloquence void of solidity.
[25] This boasted dissertation of Hippias was intitled Τρωϊκος, as we learn from Philostratus, in whose time it appears to have been extant. The plan of manners which it laid down, if we may conjecture from the title, was taken from the characters of the heroes in Homer’s Iliad, chiefly from that of Achilles, Hippias’s favourite. See the shorter dialogue called by his name.—S.
[26] This certain person was no other than the dianoëtic part or power of the soul of Socrates: for it is this part which investigates truth, deriving its principles from intellect.—T.
[27] This is levelled against those who maintained that mind and the objects of mind have no real being; attributing reality to nothing but that which they are able απριξ ταιν χειροιν λαβεσθαι, says Plato, (Theætet. p. 155.) “to take fast hold of with their hands;” or, at least, which is the object of one or other of their senses.—S.
[28] The Greek, as it is printed, is ὁμως—αθρει. But the sense, as we apprehend, not admitting an adversative adverb, the true reading probably is ὁμοσε or ὁμου—αθρει, that is, “Look close, or near:” for the Attic writers used the word ὁμου to signify the same with εγγυς. See Harpocrat. p. 130, 131. ed. Gronov.—S.
[29] Plato has in his dialogues drawn the picture of his hero with an exactness so minute, that he seems not to have omitted the least peculiarity in the ordinary conversation of that great man. Of this we have here an instance very remarkable. Socrates, it seems, in common discourse used frequently to swear by brute animals. The different reasons which have been assigned for his so doing, and the various censures passed on him, may be seen collected by Menage in Not. ad Laërt. p. 92, 93.; M. Massieu in the first tome of Les Mem. de l’Acad. des Inscript. & Belles Lett. p. 205.; and by M. du Soul in Not. ad Lucian. vol. i. p. 556. ed. Hemsterhus. Thus much is evident, that the Cretans had a law or custom, introduced amongst them by Rhadamanthus, to use that very kind of oaths; on purpose to avoid naming on every trivial occasion the Gods in whom they believed. See the authors cited by Olearius in Not. ad Philostrat. p. 257. n. 22. That the great Athenian philosopher followed in this the example of the old Cretan judge and lawgiver, is the opinion of Porphyry, in l. iii. de Abstinent. § 16. and indeed is in the highest degree probable; because we find Socrates swearing by the very same species of animals adjured commonly by the Cretans. The dog is named the most frequently in the oaths of both; probably because domestic, and the most frequently in sight when they were talking. See the Scholiast on Aristoph. Av. ver. 521. and Suidas in voce Ῥαδαμανθυος ὁρκος.—S.
[30] The Greek is, ει τι εστιν αυτο το καλον. Among the Attic writers ει has often the force of an adverb of interrogation, signifying “whether;” like the English particle “if.” This is one of the many idioms of our language, corresponding with those of the antient Attic Greek. But this idiom seems not to have been well known, or at least not here observed, by any of the translators: for they all interpret this part of the sentence in a conditional sense, making ει a conditional conjunction. Nor does it indeed appear to have been better known to those old transcribers of the original, from whose copies are printed the editions we have of Plato. For their ignorance in this point seems to have occasioned those corruptions of the text taken notice of in the two following notes.—S.
[31] The whole sentence in the present editions stands thus: Ιθι μοι, ὦ Σωκρατες, αποκριναι· ταυτα παντα ἁ φῃς καλα ειναι, ει τι εστιν αυτο το καλον, ταυτ’ αν ειη καλα; In the latter part of this sentence there is undoubtedly an omission; which we ought to supply thus; ΔΙ Ὁ ταυτ’ αν ειη καλα, as we read in the sentence following, where Socrates repeats the terms of the question: or rather, Ω κ. τ. λ. the dative case having been used by Socrates just before, when he stated the question first.—S.
[32] The Greek is printed thus: Εγω δε δη ερω, ὁτι ει παρθενος καλη, καλον εστι δι’ ὁ ταυτ’ αν ειη καλα. But the sense evidently requires us to expunge the word ει before παρθενος, and to read ὁτι παρθενος καλη καλον εστι, κ. τ. λ. The author of this interpolation, no doubt, intended to make this sentence answer to the former; and thus completed the series of blunders, which arose gradually from that ignorance of the Attic idiom, used in the former sentence, of which we accused the transcribers in note 2, p. 393. This last blunder has been the source of another, a most ridiculous one, made by Augustinus Niphus in a Latin treatise De Pulchro. His intention, in the former part of that work, is to illustrate the Greater Hippias of Plato. In pursuance of which he thinks it incumbent on him, in the first place, to prove the excellence of some particular beauty; such as may best show, we presume he means, the perfection of the ideal pattern. For this purpose, he politely and gallantly urges the following argument, manifestly borrowed from the error complained of in this note: “If the princess Joan of Arragon be beautiful without a fault, then there must be something absolutely beautiful in the nature of things: But none can deny the faultless beauty of the princess Joan: Therefore, &c.” And in proof of this last position, he gives us a long detail of the charms of that princess; such as, besides the beauties of her mind and sweetness of her manners, her golden locks, blue eyes, dimpled chin, &c. &c. &c. from head to foot.—S.
[33] The oracle here meant is recorded at large by Jo. Tzetzes, chil. ix. cap. 291. of which only the following verse relates to the present subject—

Ἱπποι Θρηϊκιαι, Λακεδαιμονιαι τε γυναικες.
The dames of Sparta and the mares of Thrace
Excel amongst the females of their kind.

Out of this the Grecians, with a little alteration, made a proverb, current amongst them,

Ἱππον Θεσσαλικην, Λακεδαιμονιην τε γυναικα.
A Spartan dame, and a Thessalian mare.

See Barthius on Claudian, de 4to Cons. Hon. ad ver. 543. pag. 697. Hence it arose in time, that the words of the oracle itself suffered a change; and instead of Θρηϊκιαι was substituted Θεσσαλικαι: with which alteration we find the oracle cited again by the same Tzetzes, chil. x. c. 330. That the former word is the true reading, and the latter a corruption, rather than the reverse of this, is probable from the authority of a writer, the most antient of those who cite this oracle, Eusebius, in Præp. Ev. l. v. c. xxvii. pag. 132. ed. R. Steph.—S.
[34] We learn from Plutarch, vol. ii. p. 303. that the people of Elis carried their mares into other countries to be covered. It is probable, therefore, that they encouraged only the female breed of that animal at home: especially if it be true, what Pliny and Servius write, that mares are better for a long race. See the annotators on Virgil, Georg. i. ver. 59. The Eleans were undoubtedly thus curious about the breed, on account of the chariotraces in the Olympic games; which were celebrated in their country, and from which they derived the advantage of being suffered to enjoy a constant peace, with liberty and honour—

Et quas Elis opes ante parârat equis.

PROPERT. l. i. el. 8. ver. 36.

And by her mares, so fleet in race to run,
The wealth which Elis antiently had won.—S.
[35] According to the accurate Dr. Arbuthnot’s computation, the Attic χους, or χοα, was a measure containing three quarts. So that the fine tureens here mentioned held 4½ gallons.—S.
[36] In the Greek we read αλλῳ γενει. But, that we ought to read ανθρωπινῳ γενει, there is no occasion, we presume, for any arguments to prove. It will sufficiently appear from what is quoted presently after from the same Heraclitus. For, however dark or myste- rious his writings might have been, as we are told they were, yet there is no reason to think he wrote absurdly. But the absurdity was easily committed by the transcribers of Plato; who probably sometimes did not well understand his meaning, certainly were not always very attentive to it. For we learn from those who are much conversant with antient manuscripts, that ανθρωπῳ often, and ανθρωπινῳ sometimes, is written in this concise manner, ἀν̅ῳ̅. And no error is more common in the editions of Greek authors, than such as are occasioned by this very abbreviation.—S.
[37] The Greek is thus printed, ὁν συ επαγῃ; and by all the translators interpreted after this manner: “That Heraclitus, whose testimony you cite;” as if the word μαρτυρα was tacitly understood after επαγῃ. Whether this interpretation be agreeable to the words of Plato, or not; we see it plainly repugnant to the matter of fact: for it was not Hippias, but Socrates himself, who had just before cited Heraclitus. Supposing, however, that the writings of this philosopher were cited frequently by Hippias; and that possibly, therefore, the meaning might be this: “He whose testimony you are used to cite;” yet the alteration of the word ὁν into Ὁ ΑΝ will, we presume, to every attentive and judicious reader, appear to make better sense and reasoning. For the saying of Heraclitus, which follows, as this philosopher inferred the truth of it, by analogy, from his comparison between apes and men, is no less a proper inference, in the same way of reasoning, from what Hippias had just before admitted to be his own meaning, and the amount of what he had said concerning the soup-pan compared with a beautiful maiden. Our learned readers will also observe the construction to be much easier, and more natural, when the sentence is read thus: Η ου και Ἡρακλειτος ταυτον τουτο λεγει, ὁ αν συ επαγῃ.—S.
[38] In this quotation from Heraclitus every one will discern the original of that thought in Mr. Pope’s Essay on Man—

Superior beings, when of late they saw
A mortal man unfold all nature’s law,
Admired such wisdom in an earthly shape,
And showed a Newton, as we show an ape.—S.
[39] We entirely agree with Mons. Maucroy, in assigning the following sentence to Hippias; though all the other translations, with the printed editions of the Greek, attribute it to Socrates. The error seems to have arisen from want of observing, that the particle και in Plato has frequently the force of γαρ; and that και δη, though oftener και μεν δη, answers to the Latin enimvero.—S.
[40] All the other parts, not here mentioned, were of massive gold: as we collect from Pliny’s Natural History, l. xxxvi. c. 6. compared with this place. For the Athenian Minerva was always painted or carved with martial habiliments. It became a Goddess to have these made of gold. And with equal propriety, no doubt, did Phidias make of ivory the parts supposed to be left naked. The Olympian Jupiter, and this admirable statue, the size of which far exceeded the human, were esteemed the capital works of that great master. See Plin. Hist. Nat. l. xxxiv. c. 8. The Minerva stood in the Παρθενων, or temple of that Goddess, at Athens.—S.
[41] The fine compound soups of the Athenians, to prevent spoiling the contexture of some of the ingredients, and confounding the order of others, were, many of them, served up to table in the very stewing-pans in which they were made. See Aristoph. Eq. act. iv. sec. 1.; Athenæus, l. ix. p. 406.; and Casaubon. in Athen. p. 693. For this reason, that elegant people was very curious about the beauty of these pans or dishes. The matter of them seems to have been a kind of porcelain, and the form not unlike our tureens. If the curiosity of any of our readers should lead them to inquire into the composition of these soups, they may satisfy it in some measure by looking into Athenæus and Apicius Cælius, l. v. c. 3.—S.
[42] In the Greek συκινη. But that we ought to read συκαμινη, there is great reason to suspect. For the wood of the fig-tree was found so unfit a material in the making any domestic utensils, &c. that the Grecians in common speech metaphorically called whatever was useless, συκινον, a fig- tree thing, this or that. Upon which account Horace gives that wood the epithet of “inutile,” l. i. sat. 8. Whereas the wood of the sycamore-tree, συκαμινος, is by Theophrastus said to be ξυλον προς πολλα χρησιμον, Hist. Plant. l. iv. c. 2. Not to insist on the extreme bitterness of fig-tree wood to the taste; and the offensiveness of its smoke, when burning, beyond that of any other tree: (see Plutarch, vol. ii. p. 684.) qualities which seem to indicate the scent and flavour of it not to be very agreeable. The alteration of this word is easily accounted for. The συκαμινος, or συκομορος, being the same with the συκη Αιγυπτια, it is probable that the Alexandrian Platonists, to illustrate the word συκαμινη, wrote in the margin of their books συκινη: which afterwards the more easily took place of the other, because the fig-tree was well known to be the most common of any tree in Attica.—S.
[43] The fine dress in which Hippias appeared at the Olympic games, is related by Plato in the lesser dialogue of his name; and more at large by Apuleius, Florid. l. ii. Ælian also tells us, that the ordinary attire of that sophist, whenever he appeared abroad, was of a scarlet colour, such as in those days peculiarly belonged to persons of high dignity. Var. Hist. l. xii. c. 32.—S.
[44] Meaning, that he was accustomed to submit his fancies and passions to the severe discipline and rough treatment of his higher principle.—S.
[45] At the end of this sentence, in the Greek, are added the words και δοξει. These we have omitted to translate; on a presumption that they were at first but a marginal various reading of the words which follow, και εσται, spoken by Socrates. For the difference between real and apparent beauty falls not under consideration in this part of the argument.—S.
[46] The Greek is, βαλλ’ ες μακαριαν. Various explications of this proverb are given us by Timæus, (in Lexic. Platonic.) Hesychius, Suidas, and others. But to us none of them are satisfactory. Erasmus, with his usual acuteness and sagacity, was the first, so far as we know, who iscovered the most probable origin of it: though with his usual Socratic modesty he only says, It seems to be so; and after the accounts usually given of it, offers his own, which is this: that the particular spot of ground, where a great part of the Persian forces perished in the battle of Marathon, a deep marsh in which they sunk and were overwhelmed, being, as he observes from Pausanias, called Μακαρια, the Grecians used this proverbial speech by way of detestation, when they cursed any man, “Throw him into Macaria!” the place where our detested enemies lie perished. See Erasm. Adag. chil. ii. cent. 1. n. 98. Schottus gives the same interpretation, in the very words of Erasmus; but, like many other learned commentators, without acknowledging his author, Schol. in Zenobium, p. 42.—S.
[47] Meaning the case of Achilles.—S.
[48] That is, to the heroes.—S.
[49] A most egregious and gross blunder has corrupted the Greek text in this place; where we read ουδετερα: instead of which we ought to read αμφοτερα: as will appear clearly in the course of the argument. Yet, gross as the blunder is, all the translators have given into it.—S.
[50] In the Greek we read ὡσπερ ᾡ παντα τα μεγαλα εστι μεγαλα, τῳ ὑπερεχοντι. Stephens in his Annotations says, he had rather the word ᾡ was omitted. Parallel places might be found in Plato, to justify in some measure the expression as it stands. But were it necessary to make any alteration, we should make no doubt of supposing the error lay in the last words; nor scruple to read them thus, το ὑπερεχον TI. For, in the sentence presently after, where this similitude (as to the manner of defining) is applied, Plato uses the same way of expressing himself, thus: ὁυτω δη φαμεν και το καλον, ᾡ καλα παντα εστι,—TI αν ἐιη.—S.
[51] Magnitude itself, as we have shown in the Notes on the Parmenides, is, according to Plato, he cause of transcendency to all things.—T.
[52] For a full explication of this passage we refer our readers to Plato’s First Alcibiades, Vol. I. But more particularly we recommend to their perusal, upon this occasion, a conversation between Socrates and Hippias, related by Xenophon in his Memoirs of Socrates: because it confirms the truth of many circumstances in this dialogue; and, in particular, not only proves that Plato drew the character of Hippias such as it really was, but that he attributed to Socrates those sentiments which were truly his. Xenophon introduces it thus, with his usual simplicity: “I remember Socrates upon a certain time holding discourse with Hippias of Elis concerning the rule or standard of right. The occasion of it was this: Hippias, on his arrival at Athens, where he had not been for a long time before, happened to meet Socrates, at a time when he was in conference with some other persons,” &c. The whole conversation is too long to be here inserted. But the following passage in it agrees with and illustrates this of Plato now before us. It follows a boast made by Hippias, that concerning the rule, by which to judge of right and wrong, he had some new things to deliver, which it was impossible for Socrates or any other person ever to controvert. Νη την Ἡραν, εφη, μεγα λεγεις αγαθον εὑρηκεναι, ει παυσονται μεν οἱ δικασται διχα ψηφιζομενοι, παυσονται δ’ οἱ πολιται περι των δικαιων αντιλεγοντες τε και αντιδικουντες και στασιαζοντες, παυσονται δ’ αἱ πολεις διαφερομεναι περι των δικαιων και πολεμουσαι. “By Juno (said Socrates), the discovery which you talk of having made, will be of great service to the world, if it will put an end to all diversity of opinions amongst the judges concerning what is agreeable to justice: if there shall be no more controversies, nor suits at law, nor factions among the citizens concerning what is right and what is wrong; nor any more differences or wars between the cities, occasioned by those very questions.” Ξενοφ. Απομνημ. βιβ. δ.—S.
[53] Hippias is much flattered, and highly elevated, by this whole description of the beautiful now drawn; presuming himself interested deeply in it, on account of his supposed political abilities, his various knowledge, and that skill in arts, as well the mechanic as the polite, for which he is celebrated in the Lesser Hippias.—S.
[54] As the subject of this dialogue is, as we have observed in the Introduction to it, the beauty which subsists in soul, and as such beauty is consubsistent with the good which also subsists in the soul, hence it follows, that every thing which is beautiful in the soul is good, and every thing there which is good is beautiful. This reciprocation, however, does not take place between the good, the ineffable principle of things, and the beautiful itself, the source of every kind of beauty: for the former is superessential, but the latter is an intelligible idea. See the sixth book of the Republic, and p. 516 of the Additional Notes on the First Alcibiades. The assertion of Mr. Sydenham, therefore, in his note on this part, is very erroneous, “that, according to Socrates and Plato, the sovereign beauty is the source of all good.”—T.
[55] In the Greek we read thus, Πως τι αρ’ αν αγωνιζοιμεθα; But, since we know of no precedent in Plato for the use of two interrogatives in this manner, that is, without the conjunction η (or) between them; we suppose it ought to be read either Πως ΓΑΡ αν αγωνιζοιμεθα; or ΠΡΟΣ τι ΓΑΡ κ. τ. λ. “To what purpose should we contend about it?”—S.
[56] This sentence is ill pointed by H. Stephens in two places: in the first of which, at least, we think it was done with design; so as to give us this construction:—“What? Do you deprive,” &c. That learned editor was fond of doing the same in many other sentences; and particularly in one, a little before this, he has in the margin proposed the like alteration.—S.
[57] That is, not from colour, or from figure; but from the due degree and proper disposition of the colours; or from the just size, fit arrangement and proportion of the parts; in a word, from measure, harmony, and order.—S.
[58] That is, not from sound, but from its just degree and proper tone; from the concord of sounds and their orderly succession; from those numbers and proportions by which sound is measured.—S.
[59] The Greek of this passage is thus printed, ουκουν ετι γε δι’ ακοης ἡδονη. So, in the speech of Socrates, immediately preceding, where the reasoning is the same, only the terms inverted, we read ουκουν ετι γε δι’ οψεως ἡδονη. In both passages the sense is thus very lame. Stephens proposes this reading, ουκουν εστι γε κ. τ. λ. which is found, he says, in some old manuscript. But the sense is very little amended by this alteration. Cornarius, whether from that manuscript in the Hassenstein library which he was favoured with the use of, or from his own sagacity, has recovered a part, at least, of the true reading; thus, ουκ ουσα ετι γε κ. τ. λ. For, that we ought to read ουκ ουσα, there can be no doubt; the argumentation shows it sufficiently: but this amendment may, we imagine, be improved by reading ουκ ουσα ἡγε δι’ ακοης (and in the former passage δι’ οψεως) ἡδονη.—S.
[60] In the edition of Plato by Stephens we read the Greek of this passage thus, εμοι δοκει εχειν, ὡς λεγει; and by a marginal note we find, that it was so printed by design. But the editions of Aldus and of Walder give us the last word, λεγεις, which is certainly right: for, in reading λεγει, Hippias is made to speak of the man, not to him, contrary to the intention of Plato expressed in the preceding sentence.—S.
[61] In the Greek text, after this first part of the sentence, Ει άρα τι αὕται αἱ ἡδοναι αμφοτεραι πεπονθασιν, ἑκατερα δε μη, there is a manifest omission of the following words, ἢ ἑκατέρα μεν, αμφοτεραι δε μη, as will appear afterwards, where Socrates refers to this very sentence.—S.
[62] The Greek of this passage is thus printed: ἑτερα δ’ αυ, ἁ αμφοτεροι πεπονθαμεν ειναι, ταυτα ουδετερον ειναι ἡμων. By which the sense of this part of the sentence is made exactly the same with that of the former part. But the words ἑτερα δ’ αυ plainly indicate, that something different is intended. And what this precisely is, will appear in the beginning of page 421; where this sentence of Socrates is repeated in other words, and ridiculed by Hippias. In conformity with which undoubted meaning of this passage, we are obliged to make an alteration here in the Greek text, and to read it thus, ἑτερα δ’ αυ, ἁ ΜΗ αμφοτεροι πεπονθαμεν ειναι, ταυτα ἙΚΑΤΕΡΟΝ ειναι ἡμων.—S.
[63] Instead of αυ, we presume that we ought here to read νυν, as opposed to ολιγον προτερον at the end of the sentence.—S.
[64] Whoever has any taste for humour cannot fail of observing the drollery with which Hippias is here made to confess in what condition he finds himself; tired of the conversation upon a subject, the tendency of which he is ignorant of, confuted over and over, and at length quite puzzled with a seeming paradox. His sly insinuation also here, that Socrates was in the same condition with himself; and his other, just before, that Socrates reasoned unfairly, like himself and his brother sophists; these strokes of humour will be obvious to all who are acquainted with Plato’s artful and humorous way of writing. But those who have a delicacy of taste to discern the several kinds of humour, will have an additional pleasure in distinguishing the coarse sarcasms and buffoon manner of Hippias, both in this speech and before in page 402, from the genteel and fine raillery always used by Socrates.—S.
[65] It was the manner of Socrates in conversation, whatever was the subject of it, to ascend to the consideration of the thing in general; to divide it into its several species; and to distinguish each species from the rest by some peculiar character, in order to come at the definite and precise nature of the very thing in question.—S.
[66] All things in nature, distinguished into their several kinds, general and specific, are, according to the Platonic doctrine, the unfolding of universal form and beauty. That this principle, which every where bounds every part of nature, may appear in a brighter light; that opposite principle, infinitude or the infinite, is here exhibited to view: and amongst the various representations given of it by the antient physiologists, that of Anaxagoras is singled out from the rest; probably for this reason, because it affords the strongest contrast: the infinite, according to his doctrine, being, if the expression may be allowed us, infinite the most of all; or, as Simplicius styles it, απειρακις απειρον, infinitely infinite. A summary account of which may be necessary to a full comprehension of the passage before us.—Down to the time of Anaxagoras, all the philosophers agreed in the doctrine of one infinite, material, principle of things. This was held by Pythagoras and his followers to be nothing else than a common subject-matter of the four elements, or primary forms of nature: from the various combinations of which four, in various proportions, are made all other natural bodies. By the disciples of Anaximander it was supposed to have form, though indistinct and indeterminate; out of which all contrarieties arose through separation. Others imagined the infinite to have some determinate and distinct form: and these again were divided. For some, at the head of whom was Thales, thought it a watery fluid, or moisture, replete with the seeds of all things; every thing being produced from some seminal principle by evolution and dilatation, through the action of the moist fluid. In the opinion of others, of Anaximenes and his school, it was a kind of air; from the rarefaction and condensation of which were produced other great and uniform kinds of body throughout the universe, by mixture making the lesser the composite. Such were the most antient accounts of the material cause of things, and their origin out of the one infinite. But Anaxagoras struck out a new road to the knowledge of nature. For, denying the origin of things from any infinite one, whether determinate or indeterminate, formed or unformed; denying the existence of any primary or elementary bodies; denying all essential change in nature, even any alteration in any thing, except such as arose from local motion, or the shifting of parts from one body to another; he taught, that the corpuscula, or component parts of things, were always what they are at present: for that the forms of nature, innumerable in their kinds, were composed of similar and homogeneous parts. Further he taught that each of these minute bodies, though homogeneous with that whole of which it was a part, was itself composed of parts dissimilar and heterogeneous, infinite in number; there being no bounds in nature to minuteness: that these heterogeneous bodies, infinitely minute, were of all kinds; so that all things, in some measure, were together every where; and each of those corpuscula, apparently so uniform, contained all the various principles of things; that the predominance of some one of these principles, that is, the quantity of it exceeding that of the rest, constituted the nature of each minute body; fitting it also for union with bodies homogeneous to it, that is, with other bodies, where the same principle was predominant: that, all things being in perpetual motion, which first began, and is continued on by active mind, disposing all things; the predominance of each principle was continually fluctuating and changing; the destruction of the present predominance was the dissolution of each temporary boing; and a new predominance, that of some other principle, was the generation of what we call a new being. For instance; whereas every drop of water contains aërial particles within it; as soon as these begin to predominate in any watery drop, it rises in air; and, receiving there an increase of the aërial principle, by degrees becomes united to the air. So, air refines into fire, and thickens into water, through the overpowering of the one or the other of these neighbour principles, with which it ever had maintained a secret correspondence. So the earthy particles, accumulated in the water, produce mud, by degrees hardening into earth; thence into various mineral bodies, stones, and metals, according to the kind of earth predominant in each place through motion. These again crumble into common earth: from which all the various vegetable beings arise in like manner, nourished and increased by the accumulation of particles homogeneous; and into which they fall, and are dissolved again, through the decay and diminution of those particles, whose superior number and strength to resist others of a different kind had before constituted the being. In the same manner all the parts of animals, whether muscular, membranous, bony, or any other, receive nourishment, or admit decay, by addition or subtraction of homogeneous particles. It will be easy for a thinking mind to pursue nature acting in this method, according to Anaxagoras, through all things. The principles of things are thus made infinite, not only in number and minuteness; but there being also a continuity of ὁμοιομερειαι, or homogeneous particles, ἁφῃ συνεχιζομεναι, through the universe, every ὁμοιομερια, that is, every kind of things, is a natural body, infinite in magnitude, and infinitely divisible into such parts as are wholly agreeing in their kind. Simplicius, in his commentary on the Physics of Aristotle, to which inestimable magazine of antient physiology we are indebted for the chief part of this note, draws the same conclusion: his words are these: εκ των ειρημενων προχειρον συννοειν, ὁτι εἰ παν ἐκ παντος εκκρινεται, και παντα εν πασιν εστιν, ου μονον το παν αλλα και ἑκαστον, ου τῳ πληθει μονον αλλα και τῳ μεγεθει, απειρακις απειρον εσται. “From the account now given it is easy to conceive, that if every thing is made out of every thing by separation, and all things are in all, not only the universe, but every kind of things therein, is infinitely infinite, not only in the number of its parts, but also in magnitude.” See Aristot. Physic. l. i. c. 4. and l. iii. c. 4. Simplic. Com. fol. 6. and 105. b. 106. a.—S.
[67] The words of Anaxagoras, as cited by Simplicius, pag. 106. b. really favour such a conclusion. For he expressly says, that his system of the continuity of being included τα παθη και τας ἑξε ς, every thing which any being had, or suffered: that is, in scholastic language, all the properties and accidents of being; or, in common speech, the condition and circumstances of things; which, as he tells us, inseparably follow and attend their several natures.—S.
[68] For instance; the two odd numbers, seven and three, together make the even number, ten: and the two even numbers, six and four, make the very same number.—S.
[69] For instance; let there be supposed a line ten inches in length, measured by whole inches: a line of three inches ¾, and another line of two inches ¼, are each of them incommensurable with the first given line; because neither of them can be measured completely by any line so long as a whole inch: yet both together making six inches, they are commensurable with the line of ten inches, by the inch-measure.—It is the same with the powers of two lines. The power of either may be incommensurable with that of the other, and also with some given magnitude: yet the power arising from both may be commensurable with that third magmitude. See Euclid. Elem. lib. x. prop. 35.—To the present purpose also is applicable the following theorem. The diameter of a square is demonstrated by Euclid (Elem. x. 97.) to be incommensurable with its side: and consequently so is a line twice as long as the diameter. Yet the rectangular space comprehended by that diameter and by a line of twice its length, is equal to a square, whose side is commensurable with the side of the given square.—S.
[70] See the latter part of the Philebus.
[71] Meaning his philosophic friends.