Memorabilia

Then I propose to revise our classification, and to say: It is just to do such things to enemies, but it is unjust to do them to friends, towards whom one’s conduct should be scrupulously honest.By all means.

Now suppose that a general, seeing that his army is downhearted, tells a lie and says that reinforcements are approaching, and by means of this lie checks discouragement among the men, under which heading shall we put this deception?Under justice, I think.Suppose, again, that a man’s son refuses to take a dose of medicine when he needs it, and the father induces him to take it by pretending that it is food, and cures him by means of this lie, where shall we put this deception?That too goes on the same side, I think.And again, suppose one has a friend suffering from depression, and, for fear that he may make away with himself, one takes away his sword or something of the sort, under which heading shall we put that now?That too goes under justice, of course.

You mean, do you, that even with friends straightforward dealing is not invariably right?It isn’t, indeed! I retract what I said before, if you will let me.Why, I’m bound to let you; it’s far better than getting our lists wrong.

But now, consider deception practised on friends to their detriment: we mustn’t overlook that either. Which is the more unjust deception in that case, the intentional or unintentional?Nay, Socrates, I have lost all confidence in my answers; for all the opinions that I expressed before seem now to have taken an entirely different form. Still I venture to say that the intentional deception is more unjust than the unintentional.

Do you think there is a doctrine and science of the just, as there is of letters?Yes.Which, in your judgment, is the more literate, the man who intentionally blunders in writing and reading, or the man who blunders unintentionally?The one who blunders intentionally, I presume; for he can always be accurate when he chooses.May we not say, then, that the intentional blunderer is literate and the unintentional is illiterate?Indeed we must.And which knows what is just, the intentional liar and deceiver, or the unintentional?The intentional, clearly.You say, then, as I understand, that he who knows letters is more literate than he who is ignorant of them?YesAnd he who knows what is just is more just than he who does not know?Apparently; but here again I don’t feel sure of my own meaning.

Now come, what do you think of the man who wants to tell the truth, but never sticks to what he says; when he shows you the way, tells you first that the road runs east, then that it runs west; and when he casts up figures, makes the total now larger, now smaller?Why, I think he shows that he doesn’t know what he thought he knew.

Are you aware that some people are called slavish?Yes.To what do they owe the name, to knowledge or to ignorance?To ignorance, obviously.To ignorance of the smiths’ trade, shall we say?Certainly not.Ignorance of carpentry perhaps?No, not to that either.Of cobbling?No, to none of these: on the contrary, those who are skilled in such trades are for the most part slavish.Then is this name given to those who are ignorant of the beautiful and good and just?That is my opinion.

Then we must strain every nerve to escape being slaves.Upon my word, Socrates, I did feel confident that I was a student of a philosophy that would provide me with the best education in all things needful to one who would be a gentleman. But you can imagine my dismay when I realise that in spite of all my pains I am even incapable of answering a question about things that one is bound to know, and yet find no other way that will lead to my improvement.Hereupon Socrates exclaimed:

Tell me, Euthydemus, have you ever been to Delphi?Yes, certainly; twice.Then did you notice somewhere on the temple the inscription Know thyself?I did.And did you pay no heed to the inscription, or did you attend to it and try to consider who you were?Indeed I did not; because I felt sure that I knew that already; for I could hardly know anything else if I did not even know myself.

And what do you suppose a man must know to know himself, his own name merely? Or must he consider what sort of a creature he is for human use and get to know his own powers; just as those who buy horses don’t think that they know the beast they want to know until they have considered whether he is docile or stubborn, strong or weak, fast or slow, and generally how he stands in all that makes a useful or a useless horse?That leads me to think that he who does not know his own powers is ignorant of himself.

Is it not clear too that through self-knowledge men come to much good, and through self-deception to much harm? For those who know themselves, know what things are expedient for themselves and discern their own powers and limitations. And by doing what they understand, they get what they want and prosper: by refraining from attempting what they do not understand, they make no mistakes and avoid failure. And consequently through their power of testing other men too, and through their intercourse with others, they get what is good and shun what is bad.

Those who do not know and are deceived in their estimate of their own powers, are in the like condition with regard to other men and other human affairs. They know neither what they want, nor what they do, nor those with whom they have intercourse; but mistaken in all these respects, they miss the good and stumble into the bad.

Furthermore, those who know what they do win fame and honour by attaining their ends. Their equals are glad to have dealings with them; and those who miss their objects look to them for counsel, look to them for protection, rest on them their hopes of better things, and for all these reasons love them above all other men.

But those who know not what they do, choose amiss, fail in what they attempt and, besides incurring direct loss and punishment thereby, they earn contempt through their failures, make themselves ridiculous and live in dishonour and humiliation.And the same is true of communities. You find that whenever a state, in ignorance of its own power, goes to war with a stronger people, it is exterminated or loses its liberty.

Socrates, answered Euthydemus, you may rest assured that I fully appreciate the importance of knowing oneself. But where should the process of self-examination begin? I look to you for a statement, please.

Well, said Socrates, I may assume, I take it, that you know what things are good and what are evil?Of course, for if I don’t know so much as that, I must be worse than a slave.Come then, state them for my benefit.Well, that’s a simple matter. First health in itself is, I suppose, a good, sickness an evil. Next the various causes of these two conditions — meat, drink, habits — are good or evil according as they promote health or sickness.

Then health and sickness too must be good when their effect is good, and evil when it is evil.But when can health possibly be the cause of evil, or sickness of good?Why, in many cases; for instance, a disastrous campaign or a fatal voyage: the able-bodied who go are lost, the weaklings who stay behind are saved.True; but you see, in the successful adventures too the able-bodied take part, the weaklings are left behind.Then since these bodily conditions sometimes lead to profit, and sometimes to loss, are they any more good than evil?No, certainly not; at least so it appears from the argument.

But wisdom now, Socrates, — that at any rate is indisputably a good thing; for what is there that a wise man would not do better than a fool?Indeed! have you not heard how Daedalus was seized by Minos because of his wisdom, and was forced to be his slave, and was robbed of his country and his liberty, and essaying to escape with his son, lost the boy and could not save himself, but was carried off to the barbarians and again lived as a slave there?That is the story, of course.And have you not heard the story of Palamedes? Surely, for all the poets sing of him, how that he was envied for his wisdom and done to death by Odysseus.Another well-known tale!And how many others, do you suppose, have been kidnapped on account of their wisdom, and haled off to the great King’s court, and live in slavery there?