No; you have said quite the reverse of the truth, Socrates; for no one would be at all likely to call pains and pleasures bad because they are false, but because they are involved in another great and manifold evil.
Then of the evil pleasures which are such because of evil we will speak a little later, if we still care to do so; but of the false pleasures we must prove in another way that they exist and come into existence in us often and in great numbers;
for this may help us to reach our decisions.
Yes, of course; that is, if such pleasures exist.
But they do exist, Protarchus, in my opinion; however, until we have established the truth of this opinion, it cannot be unquestioned.
Good.
Then let us, like athletes, approach and grapple with this new argument.
Let us do so.
We said, you may remember, a little while ago,
that when desires, as they are called, exist in us, the soul is apart from the body and separate from it in feelings.
I remember; that was said.
And was not the soul that which desired the opposites of the conditions of the body and the body that which caused pleasure or pain because of feeling?
Yes, that was the case.
Then draw the conclusion as to what takes place in these circumstances.
Go on.
What takes place is this: in these circumstances pleasures and pains exist at the same time and the sensations of opposite pleasures and pains are present side by side simultaneously, as was made clear just now.
Yes, that is clear.
And have we not also said and agreed and settled something further?
What?
That both pleasure and pain admit of the more and less and are of the class of the infinite.
Yes, we have said that, certainly.
Then what means is there of judging rightly of this?
How and in what way do you mean?
I mean to ask whether the purpose of our judgement of these matters in such circumstances is to recognize in each instance which of these elements is greater or smaller or more intense, comparing pain with pleasure, pain with pain, and pleasure with pleasure.
Certainly there are such differences, and that is the purpose of our judgement.
Well then, in the case of sight, seeing things from too near at hand or from too great a distance
obscures their real sizes and causes us to have false opinions; and does not this same thing happen in the case of pains and pleasures?
Yes, Socrates, even much more than in the case of sight.
Then our present conclusion is the opposite of what we said a little while ago.
To what do you refer?
A while ago these opinions, being false or true, imbued the pains and pleasures with their own condition of truth or falsehood.
Very true.
But now, because they are seen at various and changing distances and are compared with one another, the pleasures themselves appear greater and more intense by comparison with the pains, and the pains in turn, through comparison with the pleasures, vary inversely as they.
That is inevitable for the reasons you have given.
They both, then, appear greater and less than the reality. Now if you abstract from both of them this apparent, but unreal, excess or inferiority, you cannot say that its appearance is true,
nor again can you have the face to affirm that the part of pleasure or pain which corresponds to this is true or real.
No, I cannot.
Next, then, we will see whether we may not in another direction come upon pleasures and pains still more false than these appearing and existing in living beings.
What pleasures and what method do you mean?
It has been said many times that pains and woes and aches and everything that is called by names of that sort are caused when nature in any instance is corrupted through combinations and dissolutions,
fillings and emptyings, increases and diminutions.
Yes, that has been said many times.
And we agreed that when things are restored to their natural condition, that restoration is pleasure.
Right.
But when neither of these changes takes place in the body, what then?
When could that be the case, Socrates?
That question of yours is not to the point, Protarchus.
Why not?
Because you do not prevent my asking my own question again.
What question?
Why, Protarchus, I may say, granting that such a condition does not arise, what would be the necessary result if it did?
You mean if the body is not changed in either direction?
Yes.
It is clear, Socrates, that in that case there would never be either pleasure or pain.
Excellent. But you believe, I fancy, that some such change must always be taking place in us, as the philosophers Heracleitus and his followers. say; for all things are always flowing and shifting.
Yes, that is what they say, and I think their theory is important.
Of course it is, in view of their own importance. But I should like to avoid this argument which is rushing at us. I am going to run away; come along and escape with me.
What is your way of escape?
We grant you all this let us say to them.
But answer me this, Protarchus, are we and all other living beings always conscious of everything that happens to us of our growth and all that sort of thing—or is the truth quite the reverse of that?
Quite the reverse, surely; for we are almost entirely unconscious of everything of that sort.
Then we were not right in saying just now that the fluctuations and changes cause pains and pleasures.
No, certainly not.
A better and more unassailable statement would be this.
What?
That the great changes cause pains and pleasures in us, but the moderate and small ones cause no pains or pleasures at all.
That is more correct than the other statement, Socrates.
But if that is the case, the life of which we spoke just now would come back again.
What life?
The life which we said was painless and without joys.
Very true.
Let us, therefore, assume three lives,
one pleasant, one painful, and one neither of the two; or do you disagree?
No, I agree to this, that there are the three lives.
Then freedom from pain would not be identical with pleasure?
Certainly not.
When you hear anyone say that the pleasantest of all things is to live all one’s life without pain, what do you understand him to mean?
I think he means that freedom from pain is pleasure.
Now let us assume that we have three things; no matter what they are,
but let us use fine names and call one gold, another silver, and the third neither of the two.
Agreed.
Now can that which is neither become either gold or silver?
Certainly not.
Neither can that middle life of which we spoke ever be rightly considered in opinion or called in speech pleasant or painful, at any rate by those who reason correctly.