Philebus

Soc. Instead of saying that the soul forgets, when it is unaffected by the vibrations of the body, apply the term want of perception to that which you are now calling forgetfulness.

Pro. I understand.

Soc. And the union of soul and body in one common affection and one common motion you may properly call perception.

Pro. Very true.

Soc. Then do we now understand what we mean by perception?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. I think, then, that memory may rightly be defined as the preservation of perception.

Pro. Quite rightly.

Soc. But do we not say that memory differs from recollection?

Pro. Perhaps.

Soc. And is this the difference?

Pro. What?

Soc. When the soul alone by itself, apart from the body, recalls completely any experience it has had in company with the body, we say that it recollects do we not?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. And again when the soul has lost the memory of a perception or of something it has learned and then alone by itself regains this, we call everything of that kind recollection.

Pro. You are right.

Soc. Now my reason for saying all this is—

Pro. What?

Soc. That henceforth we may comprehend as completely and clearly as possible the pleasure of the soul, and likewise its desire, apart from the body; for both of these appear to be made plain by what has been said about memory and recollection.

Pro. Let us, then, Socrates, discuss the next point.

Soc. We must, it seems, consider many things in relation to the origin and general aspect of pleasure; but now I think our first task is to take up the nature and origin of desire.

Pro. Then let us examine that; for we shall not lose anything.

Soc. Oh yes, Protarchus, we shall lose a great deal! When we find what we are seeking we shall lose our perplexity about these very questions.

Pro. That is a fair counter; but let us try to take up the next point.

Soc. Did we not say just now that hunger, thirst, and the like were desires?

Pro. They are, decidedly.

Soc. What sort of identity have we in view when we call these, which are so different, by one name?

Pro. By Zeus, Socrates, that question may not be easy to answer, yet it must be answered.

Soc. Let us, then, begin again at that point with the same examples.

Pro. At what point?

Soc. We say of a thing on any particular occasion, it’s thirsty, do we not?

Pro. Of course.

Soc. And that means being empty?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. And is thirst, then, a desire?

Pro. Yes, of drink.

Soc. Of drink, or of being filled with drink?

Pro. Of being filled, I suppose.

Soc. The man, then, who is empty desires, as it appears, the opposite of what he feels for, being empty, he longs to be filled.

Pro. That is very plain.

Soc. Well then, is there any source from which a man who is empty at first can gain a comprehension, whether by perception or by memory, of fulness, a thing which he does not feel at the time and has never felt before?

Pro. It cannot be done.

Soc. And yet he who desires, desires something, we say.

Pro. Of course.

Soc. And he does not desire that which he feels; for he is thirsty, and that is emptiness, but he desires fulness.

Pro. Yes.

Soc. Then somehow some part of him who is thirsty can apprehend fulness.

Pro. Yes, obviously.

Soc. But it cannot be the body, for that is empty.

Pro. True.

Soc. The only remaining possibility is that the soul apprehends it, which it must do by means of memory; for what other means could it employ?

Pro. No other, I should say.

Soc. And do we understand the consequences of this argument?

Pro. What are the consequences?

Soc. This argument declares that we have no bodily desire.

Pro. How so?

Soc. Because it shows that the endeavor of every living being is always towards the opposite of the actual conditions of the body.

Pro. Yes, certainly.

Soc. And the impulse which leads towards the opposite of those conditions shows that there is a memory of the opposite of the conditions.

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. And the argument, by showing that memory is that which leads us towards the objects of desire, has proved that all the impulse, the desire, and the ruling principle in every living being are of the soul.

Pro. Quite right.

Soc. So the argument denies utterly that the body hungers or thirsts or has any such affection.

Pro. Very true.

Soc. Let us consider a further point in connection with those very affections. For I think the purpose of the argument is to point out to us a state of life existing in them.

Pro. Of what sort of life are you speaking, and in what affections does it exist?

Soc. In the affections of fulness and emptiness and all which pertain to the preservation and destruction of living beings, and I am thinking that if we fall into one of these we feel pain, which is followed by joy when we change to the other.

Pro. That is true.

Soc. And what if a man is between the two?

Pro. How between them?

Soc. Because of his condition, he is suffering, but he remembers the pleasures the coming of which would bring him an end of his pain; as yet, however, he does not possess them. Well then, shall we say that he is between the affections, or not?

Pro. Let us say so.

Soc. Shall we say that he is wholly pained or wholly pleased?

Pro. No, by Zeus, but he is afflicted with a twofold pain; he suffers in body from his sensation, and in soul from expectation and longing.

Soc. How could you, Protarchus, speak of twofold pain? Is not an empty man sometimes possessed of a sure hope of being filled, and sometimes, on the contrary, quite hopeless?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. And do you not think that when he has a hope of being filled he takes pleasure in his memory, and yet at the same time, since he is at the moment empty, suffers pain?

Pro. It cannot be otherwise.

Soc. At such a time, then, a man, or any other animal, has both pain and pleasure at once.

Pro. Yes, I suppose so.

Soc. And when an empty man is without hope of being filled, what then? Is not that the time when the twofold feeling of pain would arise, which you just now observed and thought the pain simply was twofold?

Pro. Very true, Socrates.

Soc. Let us make use of our examination of those affections for a particular purpose.

Pro. For what purpose?

Soc. Shall we say that those pleasures and pains are true or false, or that some are true and others not so?

Pro. But, Socrates, how can there be false pleasures or pains?

Soc. But, Protarchus, how can there be true and false fears, or true and false expectations, or true and false opinions?

Pro. Opinions I would grant you, but not the rest.

Soc. What? I am afraid we are starting a very considerable discussion.

Pro. You are right.

Soc. And yet we must consider, thou son of that man, [*](Son of that man may mean son of Philebus, in so far as Protarchus is a pupil of Philebus, or (so Bury) son of Gorgias, the orator and teacher (cf. Plat. Phaedo 58b), or the father of Protarchus may be referred to by the pronoun, possibly because Socrates does not at the moment recall his name or because he wishes to imply that he was a man of mark.) whether the discussion is relevant to what has gone before.

Pro. Yes, no doubt.

Soc. We must dismiss everything else, tedious or otherwise, that is irrelevant.

Pro. Right.

Soc. Now tell me; for I am always utterly amazed by the same questions we were just proposing.

Pro. What do you mean?

Soc. Are not some pleasures false and others true?

Pro. How could that be?

Soc. Then, as you maintain, nobody, either sleeping or waking or insane or deranged, ever thinks he feels pleasure when he does not feel it, and never, on the other hand, thinks he suffers pain when he does not suffer it?

Pro. We have, Socrates, always believed that all this is as you suggest.

Soc. But is the belief correct? Shall we consider whether it is so or not?

Pro. I should say we ought to consider that.

Soc. Then let us analyze still more clearly what we were just now saying about pleasure and opinion. There is a faculty of having an opinion, is there not?

Pro. Yes.

Soc. And of feeling pleasure?

Pro. Yes.

Soc. And there is an object of opinion?

Pro. Of course.

Soc. And something by which that which feels pleasure is pleased?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. And that which has opinion, whether right or wrong, never loses its function of really having opinion?

Pro. Of course not.

Soc. And that which feels pleasure, whether rightly or wrongly, will clearly never lose its function of really feeling pleasure?

Pro. Yes, that is true, too.

Soc. Then we must consider how it is that opinion is both true and false and pleasure only true, though the holding of opinion and the feeling of pleasure are equally real.

Pro. Yes, so we must.

Soc. You mean that we must consider this question because falsehood and truth are added as attributes to opinion, and thereby it becomes not merely opinion, but opinion of a certain quality in each instance?

Pro. Yes.

Soc. And furthermore, we must reach an agreement on the question whether, even if some things have qualities, pleasure and pain are not merely what they are, without qualities or attributes.

Pro. Evidently we must.

Soc. But it is easy enough to see that they have qualities. For we said a long time ago that both pains and pleasures are great and small and intense.

Pro. Yes, certainly.

Soc. And if badness becomes an attribute of any of these, Protarchus, shall we say that the opinion or the pleasure thereby becomes bad?

Pro. Why certainly, Socrates.

Soc. And what if rightness or its opposite becomes an attribute of one of them? Shall we not say that the opinion is right, if it has rightness, and the pleasure likewise?

Pro. Obviously.

Soc. And if that which is opined is mistaken, must we not agree that the opinion, since it is at the moment making a mistake, is not right or rightly opining?

Pro. Of course.

Soc. And what if we see a pain or a pleasure making a mistake in respect of that by which the pain or pleasure is caused? Shall we give it the attribute of right or good or any of the words which denote excellence?

Pro. That is impossible if the pleasure is mistaken.

Soc. And certainly pleasure often seems to come to us in connection with false, not true, opinion.

Pro. Of course it does; and in such a case, Socrates, we call the opinion false; but nobody would ever call the actual pleasure false.

Soc. You are an eager advocate of the case of pleasure just now, Protarchus.

Pro. Oh no, I merely say what I hear.

Soc. Is there no difference, my friend, between the pleasure which is connected with right opinion and knowledge and that which often comes to each of us with falsehood and ignorance?

Pro. There is likely to be a great difference.

Soc. Then let us proceed to the contemplation of the difference between them.

Pro. Lead on as you think best.

Soc. Then this is the way I lead.

Pro. What way?

Soc. Do we agree that there is such a thing as false opinion and also as true opinion?

Pro. There is.

Soc. And, as we were saying just now, pleasure and pain often follow them—I mean true and false opinion.

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. And do not opinion and the power of forming an opinion always come to us from memory and perception?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. Do we, then, believe that our relation to these faculties is somewhat as follows?

Pro. How?

Soc. Would you say that often when a man sees things at a distance and not very clearly, he wishes to distinguish between the things which he sees?

Pro. Yes, I should say so.

Soc. Next, then, would he not ask himself—

Pro. What?

Soc.What is that which is visible standing beside the rock under a tree? Do you not think a man might ask himself such a question if he saw such objects presented to his view?

Pro. To be sure.

Soc. And after that our gazer might reply to himself correctly It is a man?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. Or, again, perhaps he might be misled into the belief that it was a work of some shepherds, and then he would call the thing which he saw an image.

Pro. Yes, indeed.

Soc. And if some one is with him, he might repeat aloud to his companion what he had said to himself, and thus that which we called an opinion now becomes a statement?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. But if he is alone when he has this thought, he sometimes carries it about in his mind for a long time.

Pro. Undoubtedly.

Soc. Well, is your view about what takes place in such cases the same as mine?

Pro. What is yours?

Soc. I think the soul at such a time is like a book.

Pro. How is that?

Soc. Memory unites with the senses, and they and the feelings which are connected with them seem to me almost to write words in our souls; and when the feeling in question writes the truth, true opinions and true statements are produced in us; but when the writer within us writes falsehoods, the resulting opinions and statements are the opposite of true.

Pro. That is my view completely, and I accept it as stated.

Soc. Then accept also the presence of another workman in our souls at such a time.

Pro. What workman?

Soc. A painter, who paints in our souls pictures to illustrate the words which the writer has written.

Pro. But how do we say he does this, and when?

Soc. When a man receives from sight or some other sense the opinions and utterances of the moment and afterwards beholds in his own mind the images of those opinions and utterances. That happens to us often enough, does it not?

Pro. It certainly does.

Soc. And the images of the true opinions are true, and those of the false are false?

Pro. Assuredly.

Soc. Then if we are right about that, let us consider a further question.

Pro. What is it?

Soc. Whether this is an inevitable experience in relation to the present and the past, but not in relation to the future.

Pro. It is in the same relation to all kinds of time.

Soc. Was it not said a while ago that the pleasures and pains which belong to the soul alone might come before the pleasures and pains of the body, so that we have the pleasure and pain of anticipation, which relate to the future?

Pro. Very true.

Soc. Do the writings and pictures, then, which we imagined a little while ago to exist within us, relate to the past and present, but not to the future?

Pro. To the future especially.

Soc. Do you say to the future especially because they are all hopes relating to the future and we are always filled with hopes all our lives?

Pro. Precisely.

Soc. Well, here is a further question for you to answer.

Pro. What is it?

Soc. A just, pious, and good man is surely a friend of the gods, is he not?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. And an unjust and thoroughly bad man is the reverse?

Pro. Of course.

Soc. But, as we were just now saying, every man is full of many hopes?

Pro. Yes, to be sure.

Soc. And there are in all of us written words which we call hopes?

Pro. Yes.

Soc. And also the images painted there; and often a man sees an abundance of gold coming into his possession, and in its train many pleasures; and he even sees a picture of himself enjoying himself immensely.

Pro. Yes, certainly.

Soc. Shall we or shall we not say that of these pictures those are for the most part true which are presented to the good, because they are friends of the gods, whereas those presented to the bad are for the most part false?

Pro. Surely we must say that.

Soc. Then the bad also, no less than the good, have pleasures painted in their souls, but they are false pleasures.

Pro. Yes, surely.

Soc. Then the bad rejoice for the most part in the false, and the good in true pleasures.

Pro. That is inevitably true.

Soc. According to our present view, then, there are false pleasures in the souls of men, imitations or caricatures of the true pleasures; and pains likewise.

Pro. There are.

Soc. We saw, you remember, that he who had an opinion at all always really had an opinion, but it was sometimes not based upon realities, whether present, past, or future.

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. And this it was, I believe, which created false opinion and the holding of false opinions, was it not?

Pro. Yes.

Soc. Very well, must we not also grant that pleasure and pain stand in the same relation to realities?

Pro. What do you mean?

Soc. I mean that he who feels pleasure at all in any way or manner always really feels pleasure, but it is sometimes not based upon realities, whether present or past, and often, perhaps most frequently, upon things which will never even be realities in the future.

Pro. This also, Socrates, must inevitably be the case.

Soc. And the same may be said of fear and anger and all that sort of thing—that they are all sometimes false?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. Well, can we say that opinions become bad or good except as they become false?

Pro. No.

Soc. And we understand, I believe, that pleasures also are not bad except by being false.

Pro. 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.

Soc. 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.

Pro. Yes, of course; that is, if such pleasures exist.

Soc. But they do exist, Protarchus, in my opinion; however, until we have established the truth of this opinion, it cannot be unquestioned.

Pro. Good.

Soc. Then let us, like athletes, approach and grapple with this new argument.

Pro. Let us do so.

Soc. 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.

Pro. I remember; that was said.

Soc. 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?

Pro. Yes, that was the case.

Soc. Then draw the conclusion as to what takes place in these circumstances.

Pro. Go on.

Soc. 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.

Pro. Yes, that is clear.

Soc. And have we not also said and agreed and settled something further?

Pro. What?

Soc. That both pleasure and pain admit of the more and less and are of the class of the infinite.

Pro. Yes, we have said that, certainly.

Soc. Then what means is there of judging rightly of this?

Pro. How and in what way do you mean?

Soc. 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.

Pro. Certainly there are such differences, and that is the purpose of our judgement.

Soc. 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?

Pro. Yes, Socrates, even much more than in the case of sight.

Soc. Then our present conclusion is the opposite of what we said a little while ago.

Pro. To what do you refer?

Soc. A while ago these opinions, being false or true, imbued the pains and pleasures with their own condition of truth or falsehood.

Pro. Very true.

Soc. 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.

Pro. That is inevitable for the reasons you have given.

Soc. 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.

Pro. No, I cannot.

Soc. 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.

Pro. What pleasures and what method do you mean?

Soc. 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.

Pro. Yes, that has been said many times.

Soc. And we agreed that when things are restored to their natural condition, that restoration is pleasure.

Pro. Right.

Soc. But when neither of these changes takes place in the body, what then?

Pro. When could that be the case, Socrates?

Soc. That question of yours is not to the point, Protarchus.

Pro. Why not?

Soc. Because you do not prevent my asking my own question again.

Pro. What question?

Soc. Why, Protarchus, I may say, granting that such a condition does not arise, what would be the necessary result if it did?

Pro. You mean if the body is not changed in either direction?

Soc. Yes.

Pro. It is clear, Socrates, that in that case there would never be either pleasure or pain.

Soc. 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.

Pro. Yes, that is what they say, and I think their theory is important.

Soc. 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.

Pro. What is your way of escape?

Soc.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?

Pro. Quite the reverse, surely; for we are almost entirely unconscious of everything of that sort.

Soc. Then we were not right in saying just now that the fluctuations and changes cause pains and pleasures.

Pro. No, certainly not.

Soc. A better and more unassailable statement would be this.

Pro. What?

Soc. That the great changes cause pains and pleasures in us, but the moderate and small ones cause no pains or pleasures at all.

Pro. That is more correct than the other statement, Socrates.

Soc. But if that is the case, the life of which we spoke just now would come back again.

Pro. What life?

Soc. The life which we said was painless and without joys.

Pro. Very true.

Soc. Let us, therefore, assume three lives, one pleasant, one painful, and one neither of the two; or do you disagree?

Pro. No, I agree to this, that there are the three lives.

Soc. Then freedom from pain would not be identical with pleasure?

Pro. Certainly not.

Soc. 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?

Pro. I think he means that freedom from pain is pleasure.

Soc. 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.

Pro. Agreed.

Soc. Now can that which is neither become either gold or silver?

Pro. Certainly not.

Soc. 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.

Pro. No, certainly not.

Soc. But surely, my friend, we are aware of persons who call it and consider it so.

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. Do they, then, think they feel pleasure whenever they are not in pain?

Pro. That is what they say.

Soc. Then they do think they feel pleasure at such times; for otherwise they would not say so.

Pro. Most likely.

Soc. Certainly, then, they have a false opinion about pleasure, if there is an essential difference between feeling pleasure and not feeling pain.

Pro. And we certainly found that difference.

Soc. Then shall we adopt the view that there are, as we said just now, three states, or that there are only two—pain, which is an evil to mankind, and freedom from pain, which is of itself a good and is called pleasure?

Pro. Why do we ask ourselves that question now, Socrates? I do not understand.

Soc. No, Protarchus, for you certainly do not understand about the enemies of our friend Philebus.

Pro. Whom do you mean?

Soc. Certain men who are said to be master thinkers about nature, and who deny the existence of pleasures altogether.

Pro. Is it possible?

Soc. They say that what Philebus and his school call pleasures are all merely refuges from pain.

Pro. Do you recommend that we adopt their view, Socrates?

Soc. No, but that we make use of them as seers who divine the truth, not by acquired skill, but by some innate and not ignoble repugnance which makes them hate the power of pleasure and think it so utterly unsound that its very attractiveness is mere trickery, not pleasure. You may make use of them in this way, considering also their other expressions of dislike; and after that you shall learn of the pleasures which seem to me to be true, in order that we may consider the power of pleasure from both points of view and form our judgement by comparing them.

Pro. You are right.

Soc. Let us, then, consider these men as allies and follow them in the track of their dislike. I fancy their method would be to begin somewhere further back and ask whether, if we wished to discover the nature of any class—take the hard, for instance—we should be more likely to learn it by looking at the hardest things or at the least hard. Now you, Protarchus, must reply to them as you have been replying to me.

Pro. By all means, and I say to them that we should look at the greatest things.

Soc. Then if we wished to discover what the nature of pleasure is, we should look, not at the smallest pleasures, but at those which are considered most extreme and intense.

Pro. Every one would agree to that now.

Soc. And the commonest and greatest pleasures are, as we have often said, those connected with the body, are they not?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. Are they greater, then, and do they become greater in those who are ill or in those who are in health? Let us take care not to answer hastily and fall into error. Perhaps we might say they are greater in those who are in health.

Pro. That is reasonable.

Soc. Yes, but are not those pleasures the greatest which gratify the greatest desires?

Pro. That is true.

Soc. But do not people who are in a fever, or in similar diseases, feel more intensely thirst and cold and other bodily sufferings which they usually have; and do they not feel greater want, followed by greater pleasure when their want is satisfied? Is this true, or not?

Pro. Now that you have said it, it certainly appears to be true.

Soc. Then should we appear to be right in saying that if we wished to discover the greatest pleasures we should have to look, not at health, but at disease? Now do not imagine that I mean to ask you whether those who are very ill have more pleasures than those who are well, but assume that I am asking about the greatness of pleasure, and where the greatest intensity of such feeling normally occurs. For we say that it is our task to discover the nature of pleasure and what those who deny its existence altogether say that it is. [*](This paradox means what those say it is who deny that it is really pleasure.)

Pro. I think I understand you.

Soc. Presently, Protarchus, you will show that more clearly, for I want you to answer a question. Do you see greater pleasures—I do not mean greater in number, but greater in intensity and degree—in riotous living or in a life of self-restraint? Be careful about your reply.

Pro. I understand you, and I see that there is a great difference. For the self-restrained are always held in check by the advice of the proverbial expression nothing too much, which guides their actions; but intense pleasure holds sway over the foolish and dissolute even to the point of madness and makes them notorious.

Soc. Good; and if that is true, it is clear that the greatest pleasures and the greatest pains originate in some depravity of soul and body, not in virtue.

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. Then we must select some of these pleasures and see what there is about them which made us say that they are the greatest.

Pro. Yes, we must.

Soc. Now see what there is about the pleasures which are related to certain diseases.

Pro. What diseases?

Soc. Repulsive diseases which the philosophers of dislike whom we mentioned utterly abominate.

Pro. What are the pleasures?

Soc. For instance, the relief of the itch and the like by scratching, no other treatment being required. For in Heaven’s name what shall we say the feeling is which we have in this case? Is it pleasure or pain?

Pro. I think, Socrates, it is a mixed evil.

Soc. I did not introduce this question on Philebus’ account; but unless we consider these pleasures and those that follow in their train, Protarchus, we can probably never settle the point at issue.

Pro. Then we must attack this family of pleasures.

Soc. You mean those which are mixed?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. Some mixtures are concerned with the body and are in the body only, and some belong only to the soul and are in the soul; and we shall also find some mingled pains and pleasures belonging both to the soul and to the body, and these are sometimes called pleasures, sometimes pains.

Pro. How so?

Soc. Whenever, in the process of restoration or destruction, anyone has two opposite feelings, as we sometimes are cold, but are growing warm, or are hot, but are growing cold, the desire of having the one and being free from the other, the mixture of bitter and sweet, as they say, joined with the difficulty in getting rid of the bitter, produces impatience and, later, wild excitement.

Pro. What you say is perfectly true.

Soc. And such mixtures sometimes consist of equal pains and pleasures and sometimes contain more of one or the other, do they not?

Pro. Of course.

Soc. In the case of the mixtures in which the pains are more than the pleasures—say the itch, which we mentioned just now, or tickling—when the burning inflammation is within and is not reached by the rubbing and scratching, which separate only such mixtures as are on the surface, sometimes by bringing the affected parts to the fire or to something cold we change from wretchedness to inexpressible pleasures, and sometimes the opposition between the internal and the external produces a mixture of pains and pleasures, whichever happens to preponderate; this is the result of the forcible separation of combined elements, or the combination of those that were separate, and the concomitant juxtaposition of pains and pleasures.

Pro. Very true.

Soc. And when the pleasure is the predominant element in the mixture, the slight tincture of pain tickles a man and makes him mildly impatient, or again an excessive proportion of pleasure excites him and sometimes even makes him leap for joy; it produces in him all sorts of colors, attitudes, and paintings, and even causes great amazement and foolish shouting, does it not?

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. And it makes him say of himself, and others say of him, that he is pleased to death with these delights, and the more unrestrained and foolish he is, the more he always gives himself up to the pursuit of these pleasures; he calls them the greatest of all things and counts that man the happiest who lives most entirely in the enjoyment of them.

Pro. Socrates, you have described admirably what happens in the case of most people.

Soc. That may be, Protarchus, so far as concerns purely bodily pleasures in which internal and external sensations unite; but concerning the pleasures in which the soul and the body contribute opposite elements, each adding pain or pleasure to the other’s pleasure or pain, so that both unite in a single mixture—concerning these I said before that when a man is empty he desires to be filled, and rejoices in his expectation, but is pained by his emptiness, and now I add, what I did not say at that time, that in all these cases, which are innumerable, of opposition between soul and body, there is one single mixture of pain and pleasure.

Pro. I believe you are quite right.

Soc. One further mixture of pain and pleasure is left.

Pro. What is it?

Soc. That mixture of its own feelings which we said the soul often experiences.

Pro. And what do we call this?

Soc. Do you not regard anger, fear, yearning, mourning, love, jealousy, envy, and the like as pains of the soul and the soul only?

Pro. I do.

Soc. And shall we not find them full of ineffable pleasures? Or must I remind you of the anger?

1. Which stirs a man, though very wise, to wrath,
2. And sweeter is than honey from the comb,

Pro. No, you need not remind me; those things occur just as you suggest.

Soc. And you remember, too, how people enjoy weeping at tragedies?

Pro. Yes, certainly.

Soc. And are you aware of the condition of the soul at comedies, how there also we have a mixture of pain and pleasure?

Pro. I do not quite understand.

Soc. Indeed it is by no means easy, Protarchus, to understand such a condition under those circumstances.

Pro. No at least I do not find it so.

Soc. Well, then, let us take this under consideration, all the more because of its obscurity; then we can more readily understand the mixture of pain and pleasure in other cases.

Pro. Please go on.

Soc. Would you say that envy, which was mentioned just now, was a pain of the soul, or not?

Pro. I say it is.

Soc. But certainly we see the envious man rejoicing in the misfortunes of his neighbors.

Pro. Yes, very much so.

Soc. Surely ignorance is an evil, as is also what we call stupidity.

Pro. Surely.

Soc. Next, then, consider the nature of the ridiculous.

Pro. Please proceed.

Soc. The ridiculous is in its main aspect a kind of vice which gives its name to a condition; and it is that part of vice in general which involves the opposite of the condition mentioned in the inscription at Delphi.

Pro. You mean Know thyself, Socrates?

Soc. Yes; and the opposite of that, in the language of the inscription, would evidently be not to know oneself at all.

Pro. Of course.

Soc. Protarchus, try to divide this into three.

Pro. How do you mean? I am afraid I can never do it.

Soc. Then you say that I must now make the division?

Pro. Yes, I say so, and I beg you to do so, besides.

Soc. Must not all those who do not know themselves be affected by their condition in one of three ways?

Pro. How is that?

Soc. First in regard to wealth; such a man thinks he is richer than he is.

Pro. Certainly a good many are affected in that way.

Soc. And there are still more who think they are taller and handsomer than they are and that they possess better physical qualities in general than is the case.

Pro. Certainly.

Soc. But by far the greatest number, I fancy, err in the third way, about the qualities of, the soul, thinking that they excel in virtue when they do not.

Pro. Yes, most decidedly.

Soc. And of all the virtues, is not wisdom the one to which people in general lay claim, thereby filling themselves with strife and false conceit of wisdom?

Pro. Yes, to be sure.

Soc. And we should surely be right in calling all that an evil condition.

Pro. Very much so.

Soc. Then this must further be divided into two parts, if we are to gain insight into childish envy with its absurd mixture of pleasure and pain. How shall we divide it, do you say? All who have this false and foolish conceit of themselves fall, like the rest of mankind, into two classes: some necessarily have strength and power, others, as I believe, the reverse.

Pro. Yes, necessarily.

Soc. Make the division, then, on that principle; those of them who have this false conceit and are weak and unable to revenge themselves when they are laughed at you may truly call ridiculous, but those who are strong and able to revenge themselves you will define most correctly to yourself by calling them powerful, terrible, and hateful, for ignorance in the powerful is hateful and infamous—since whether real or feigned it injures their neighbors—but ignorance in the weak appears to us as naturally ridiculous.

Pro. Quite right. But the mixture of pleasure and pain in all this is not yet clear to me.

Soc. First, then, take up the nature of envy.

Pro. Go on.

Soc. Is envy a kind of unrighteous pain and also a pleasure?

Pro. Undoubtedly.

Soc. But it is neither wrong nor envious to rejoice in the misfortunes of our enemies, is it?

Pro. No, of course not.

Soc. But when people sometimes see the misfortunes of their friends and rejoice instead of grieving, is not that wrong?

Pro. Of course it is.

Soc. And we said that ignorance was an evil to every one, did we not?

Pro. True.

Soc. Then the false conceits of our friends concerning their wisdom, their beauty, and their other qualities which we mentioned just now, saying that they belong to three classes, are ridiculous when they are weak, but hateful when they are powerful. Shall we, or shall we not, affirm that, as I said just now, this state of mind when possessed in its harmless form by any of our friends, is ridiculous in the eyes of others?

Pro. Certainly it is ridiculous.

Soc. And do we not agree that ignorance is in itself a misfortune?

Pro. Yes, a great one.

Soc. And do we feel pleasure or pain when we laugh at it?

Pro. Pleasure, evidently.

Soc. Did we not say that pleasure in the misfortunes of friends was caused by envy?

Pro. There can be no other cause.

Soc. Then our argument declares that when we laugh at the ridiculous qualities of our friends, we mix pleasure with pain, since we mix it with envy; for we have agreed all along that envy is a pain of the soul, and that laughter is a pleasure, yet these two are present at the same time on such occasions.

Pro. True.

Soc. So now our argument shows that in mournings and tragedies and comedies, not merely on the stage, but in all the tragedy and comedy of life, and in countless other ways, pain is mixed with pleasure.

Pro. It is impossible not to agree with that, Socrates, even though one be most eager to maintain the opposite opinion.

Soc. Again we mentioned anger, yearning, mourning, love, jealousy, envy, and the like, as conditions in which we should find a mixture of the two elements we have now often named, did we not?

Pro. Yes.

Soc. And we understand that all the details I have been describing just now are concerned only with sorrow and envy and anger?

Pro. Of course we understand that.

Soc. Then there are still many others of those conditions left for us to discuss.

Pro. Yes, very many.

Soc. Now why do you particularly suppose I pointed out to you the mixture of pain and pleasure in comedy? Was it not for the sake of convincing you, because it is easy to show the mixture in love and fear and the rest, and because I thought that when you had made this example your own, you would relieve me from the necessity of discussing those other conditions in detail, and would simply accept the fact that in the affections of the body apart from the soul, of the soul apart from the body, and of the two in common, there are plentiful mixtures of pain and pleasure? So tell me; will you let me off, or will you keep on till midnight? But I think I need say only a few words to induce you to let me off. I will agree to give you an account of all these matters tomorrow, but now I wish to steer my bark towards the remaining points that are needful for the judgement which Philebus demands.

Pro. Good, Socrates; just finish what remains in any way you please.

Soc. Then after the mixed pleasures we should naturally and almost of necessity proceed in turn to the unmixed.