To join in a fight or a fray, as the saying is, Socrates, you have chosen your time well enough.

Do you mean, according to the proverb, we have come too late for a feast?

Yes, a most elegant feast; for Gorgias gave us a fine and varied display but a moment ago.

But indeed, Callicles, it is Chaerephon here who must take the blame for this; he forced us to spend our time in the market-place.

No matter, Socrates I will take the curing of it too for Gorgias is a friend of mine, so that he will give us a display now, if you think fit, or if you prefer, on another occasion.

What, Chaerephon? Has Socrates a desire to hear Gorgias?

Yes, it is for that very purpose we are here.

Then whenever you have a mind to pay me a call—Gorgias is staying with me, and he will give you a display.

Thank you, Callicles: but would he consent to discuss with us? For I want to find out from the man what is the function of his art, and what it is that he professes and teaches. As for the rest of his performance, he must give it us, as you suggest, on another occasion.

The best way is to ask our friend himself, Socrates: for indeed that was one of the features of his performance. Why, only this moment he was pressing for whatever questions anyone in the house might like to ask, and saying he would answer them all.

What a good idea! Ask him, Chaerephon.

What am I to ask?

What he is.

How do you mean?

He is, Chaerephon; indeed, I was just now making this very profession, and I may add that nobody has asked me anything new for many years now.

So I presume you will easily answer, Gorgias.

You are free to make trial of that, Chaerephon.

Yes, to be sure; and, if you like, Chaerephon, of me. For I think Gorgias must be quite tired out, after the long discourse he has just delivered.

Why, Polus, do you suppose you could answer more excellently than Gorgias?

What kind of speech, Gorgias? Do you mean that which shows sick people by what regimen they could get well?

No.

Then rhetoric is not concerned with all kinds of speech.

No, I say.

Yet it does make men able to speak.

Yes.

And to understand also the things about which they speak.

Of course.

Now, does the medical art, which we mentioned just now, make men able to understand and speak about the sick?

It must.

Hence the medical art also, it seems, is concerned with speech.

Yes.

That is, speech about diseases?

Certainly.

Now, is gymnastic also concerned with speech about the good and bad condition of our bodies?

Quite so.

And moreover it is the same, Gorgias, with all the other arts; each of them is concerned with that kind of speech which deals with the subject matter of that particular art.

Apparently.

Then why, pray, do you not give the name rhetorical to those other arts, when they are concerned with speech, if you call that rhetoric which has to do with speech?

Because, Socrates, the skill in those other arts is almost wholly concerned with manual work and similar activities, whereas in rhetoric there is no such manual working, but its whole activity and efficacy is by means of speech. For this reason I claim for the rhetorical art that it is concerned with speech, and it is a correct description, I maintain.

Now, do I understand what sort of art you choose to call it? Perhaps, however, I shall get to know this more clearly. But answer me this: we have arts, have we not?

Yes.

Then amongst the various arts some, I take it, consist mainly of work, and so require but brief speech; while others require none, for the art’s object may be achieved actually in silence, as with painting, sculpture, and many other arts. It is to such as these that I understand you to refer when you say rhetoric has no concern with them; is not that so?

Your supposition is quite correct, Socrates.

But there is another class of arts which achieve their whole purpose through speech and—to put it roughly—require either no action to aid them, or very little; for example, numeration, calculation, geometry, draught-playing, and many other arts: some of these have the speech in about equal proportion to the action, but most have it as the larger part, or absolutely the whole of their operation and effect is by means of speech. It is one of this class of arts that I think you refer to as rhetoric.

You are right.

But, mind you, I do not think it is any one of these that you mean to call rhetoric; though, so far as your expression went, you did say that the art which has its effect through speech is rhetoric, and one might retort, if one cared to strain at mere words: So, Gorgias, you call numeration rhetoric! But I do not believe it is either numeration or geometry that you call rhetoric.

Your belief is correct, Socrates, and your supposition just.

Come now, and do your part in finishing off the answer to my question. Since rhetoric is in fact one of these arts which depend mainly on speech, and there are likewise other arts of the same nature, try if you can tell me with what this rhetoric, which has its effect in speech, is concerned. For instance, suppose some one asked me about one or other of the arts which I was mentioning just now: Socrates, what is the art of numeration? I should tell him, as you did me a moment ago, that it is one of those which have their effect through speech. And suppose he went on to ask: With what is its speech concerned? I should say: With the odd and even numbers, and the question of how many units there are in each. And if he asked again: What art is it that you call calculation? I should say that this also is one of those which achieve their whole effect by speech. And if he proceeded to ask: With what is it concerned? I should say— in the manner of those who draft amendments in the Assembly—that in most respects calculation is in the same case as numeration, for both are concerned with the same thing, the odd and the even; but that they differ to this extent, that calculation considers the numerical values of odd and even numbers not merely in themselves but in relation to each other. And suppose, on my saying that astronomy also achieves its whole effect by speech, he were to ask me: And the speech of astronomy, with what is it concerned? I should say: With the courses of the stars and sun and moon, and their relative speeds.

And you would be right, Socrates.

I mean that, supposing the producers of those blessings which the maker of the catch commends—namely, the doctor, the trainer, and the money-getter—were to stand before you this moment, and the doctor first should say: Gorgias is deceiving you, Socrates for it is not his art, but mine, that deals with man’s greatest good. Then supposing I were to ask him: And who are you, to say so? He would probably reply: A doctor. Well, what do you mean? That the work of your art is the greatest good? What else, Socrates, I expect he would reply, is health? What greater good is there for men than health? And supposing the trainer came next and said: I also should be surprised indeed, Socrates, if Gorgias could show you a greater good in his art than I can in mine. Again I should say to him in his turn: And who are you, sir? What is your work? A trainer, he would reply, and my work is making men’s bodies beautiful and strong. After the trainer would come the money-getter, saying— with, I fancy, a fine contempt for every one: Pray consider, Socrates, if you can find a good that is greater than wealth, either in Gorgias’ view or in that of anyone else at all. Why then, we should say to him, are you a producer of that? Yes, he would say. And who are you? A money-getter. Well then, we shall say to him, do you judge wealth to be the greatest good for men? Of course, he will reply. But look here, we should say; our friend Gorgias contends that his own art is a cause of greater good than yours. Then doubtless his next question would be: And what is that good? Let Gorgias answer. Now come, Gorgias; imagine yourself being questioned by those persons and by me, and tell us what is this thing that you say is the greatest good for men, and that you claim to produce.

A thing, Socrates, which in truth is the greatest good, and a cause not merely of freedom to mankind at large, but also of dominion to single persons in their several cities.

Well, and what do you call it?

Then let us repeat our question with reference to the same arts that we spoke of just now: does not numeration, or the person skilled in numeration, teach us all that pertains to number?

Certainly.

And persuades also?

Yes.

So that numeration also is a producer of persuasion?

Apparently.

But yet those who have learnt have been persuaded, as well as those who have believed.

That is so.

Then would you have us assume two forms of persuasion—one providing belief without knowledge, and the other sure knowledge?

Certainly.

Now which kind of persuasion is it that rhetoric creates in law courts or any public meeting on matters of right and wrong? The kind from which we get belief without knowledge, or that from which we get knowledge?

Obviously, I presume, Socrates, that from which we get belief.

Thus rhetoric, it seems, is a producer of persuasion for belief, not for instruction in the matter of right and wrong.

Yes.

And so the rhetorician’s business is not to instruct a law court or a public meeting in matters of right and wrong, but only to make them believe; since, I take it, he could not in a short while instruct such a mass of people in matters so important.

No, to be sure.

Come then, let us see what actually is our account of rhetoric: for I confess I am not yet able to distinguish what my own account of it is. When the city holds a meeting to appoint doctors or shipbuilders or any other set of craftsmen, there is no question then, is there, of the rhetorician giving advice? And clearly this is because in each appointment we have to elect the most skilful person. Again, in a case of building walls or constructing harbors or arsenals, our only advisers are the master-builders; or in consulting on the appointment of generals, or on a manoeuvre against the enemy, or on a military occupation, it is the general staff who will then advise us, and not the rhetoricians. Or what do you say, Gorgias, to these instances? For as you claim to be an orator yourself and to make orators of others, it is proper to inquire of you concerning your own craft. And here you must regard me as furthering your own interest: for it is quite likely that some one within these walls has a wish to become your pupil—indeed I fancy I perceive more than one, yes, a number of them, who, perhaps, would be ashamed to press you with questions. So, when you are being pressed with mine, consider that you are being questioned by them as well: What shall we get, Gorgias, by coming to hear you? On what matters shall we be enabled to give advice to the state? Will it be only on right and wrong, or on those things besides which Socrates was mentioning just now? So try to give them an answer.

Well, I will try, Socrates, to reveal to you clearly the whole power of rhetoric: and in fact you have correctly shown the way to it yourself. You know, I suppose, that these great arsenals and walls of Athens, and the construction of your harbors, are due to the advice of Themistocles, and in part to that of Pericles, not to your craftsmen.

So we are told, Gorgias, of Themistocles; and as to Pericles, I heard him myself when he was advising us about the middle wall.Built about 440 B.C. between the two walls built in 456 B.C., one connecting the Piraeus, and the other Phalerum, with Athens. The middle wall ran parallel to the former, and secured from hostile attack a narrow strip of land between Athens and the Piraeus. Socrates was born in 469 B.C.

So whenever there is an election of such persons as you were referring to, Socrates, you see it is the orators who give the advice and get resolutions carried in these matters.

That is just what surprises me, Gorgias, and has made me ask you all this time what in the world the power of rhetoric can be. For, viewed in this light, its greatness comes over me as something supernatural.

Ah yes, if you knew all, Socrates,—how it comprises in itself practically all powers at once! And I will tell you a striking proof of this: many and many a time have I gone with my brother or other doctors to visit one of their patients, and found him unwilling either to take medicine or submit to the surgeon’s knife or cautery; and when the doctor failed to persuade him I succeeded, by no other art than that of rhetoric. And I further declare that, if a rhetorician and a doctor were to enter any city you please, and there had to contend in speech before the Assembly or some other meeting as to which of the two should be appointed physician, you would find the physician was nowhere, while the master of speech would be appointed if he wished. And if he had to contend with a member of any other profession whatsoever, the rhetorician would persuade the meeting to appoint him before anyone else in the place: for there is no subject on which the rhetorician could not speak more persuasively than a member of any other profession whatsoever, before a multitude. So great, so strange, is the power of this art. At the same time, Socrates, our use of rhetoric should be like our use of any other sort of exercise. For other exercises are not to be used against all and sundry, just because one has learnt boxing or wrestling or fighting in armour so well as to vanquish friend and foe alike: this gives one no right to strike one’s friends, or stab them to death. Nor, in all conscience, if a man took lessons at a wrestling-school, and having got himself into good condition and learnt boxing he proceeded to strike his father and mother, or some other of his relations or friends, should that be a reason for hating athletic trainers and teachers of fighting in armour, and expelling them from our cities. For they imparted their skill with a view to its rightful use against enemies and wrongdoers, in self-defence, not provocation; whereas the others have perverted their strength and art to an improper use.

I therefore, if you are a person of the same sort as myself, should be glad to continue questioning you: if not, I can let it drop. Of what sort am I? One of those who would be glad to be refuted if I say anything untrue, and glad to refute anyone else who might speak untruly; but just as glad, mind you, to be refuted as to refute, since I regard the former as the greater benefit, in proportion as it is a greater benefit for oneself to be delivered from the greatest evil than to deliver some one else. For I consider that a man cannot suffer any evil so great as a false opinion on the subjects of our actual argument. Now if you say that you too are of that sort, let us go on with the conversation; but if you think we had better drop it, let us have done with it at once and make an end of the discussion.

Nay, I too, Socrates, claim to be of the sort you indicate; though perhaps we should have taken thought also for the wishes of our company. For, let me tell you, some time before you and your friend arrived, I gave the company a performance of some length; and if we now have this conversation I expect we shall seriously protract our sitting. We ought, therefore, to consider their wishes as well, in case we are detaining any of them who may want to do something else.

You hear for yourselves, Gorgias and Socrates, the applause by which these gentlemen show their desire to hear anything you may say; for my own part, however, Heaven forbid that I should ever be so busy as to give up a discussion so interesting and so conducted, because I found it more important to attend to something else.

Certainly I do.

You were saying just now, you know, that even in the matter of health the orator will be more convincing than the doctor.

Yes, indeed, I was—meaning, to the crowd.

And to the crowd means to the ignorant? For surely, to those who know, he will not be more convincing than the doctor.

You are right.

And if he is to be more convincing than the doctor, he thus becomes more convincing than he who knows?

Certainly.

Though not himself a doctor, you agree?

Now the just man must wish to do what is just?

Apparently.

Hence the just man will never wish to act unjustly?

That must needs be so.

But it follows from our statementsi.e. that he must know what is just, and that he who knows this must be just (see ¤¤ A and B above). that the rhetorician must be just.

Yes.

Hence the rhetorician will never wish to do wrong.

Apparently not.

Then do you remember saying a little while ago that we ought not to complain against the trainers or expel them from our cities, if a boxer makes not merely use, but an unfair use, of his boxing? So in just the same way, if an orator uses his rhetoric unfairly, we should not complain against his teacher or banish him from our city, but the man who does the wrong and misuses his rhetoric. Was that said or not?

It was.

A thing which you say—in the treatise which I read of late—made art.

What thing do you mean?

I mean a certain habitude.

Then do you take rhetoric to be a habitude?

I do, if you have no other suggestion.

Habitude of what?

Of producing a kind of gratification and pleasure.

Then you take rhetoric to be something fine—an ability to gratify people?

How now, Polus? Have you as yet heard me tell you what I say it is, that you ask what should follow that—whether I do not take it to be fine?

Why, did I not hear you call it a certain habitude?

Then please—since you value gratification—be so good as gratify me in a small matter.

I will.

Ask me now what art I take cookery to be.

Then I ask you, what art is cookery ?

None at all, Polus.

Well, what is it ? Tell me.

Of course.

And each of these again you believe to have a good condition?

I do.

And again, a good condition that may seem so, but is not? As an example, let me give the following: many people seem to be in good bodily condition when it would not be easy for anyone but a doctor, or one of the athletic trainers, to perceive that they are not so.

You are right.

Something of this sort I say there is in body and in soul, which makes the body or the soul seem to be in good condition, though it is none the more so in fact.

What? Are they not like the despots, in putting to death anyone they please, and depriving anyone of his property and expelling him from their cities as they may think fit?

By the Dog, I fear I am still in two minds, Polus, at everything you say, as to whether this is a statement on your own part, and a declaration of your own opinion, or a question you are putting to me.

Why, I am asking you.

Very well, my friend then are you asking me two things at once?

How two?